Better living through better living

Past Selves, I’m feeling a little better.

Visited a Nutritionist today, was told I’m eating much healthier, but to lose weight I need to exercise. In other news water is still wet.

I’m getting a little more inspired in my writing. The plot is starting to come together, I’m researching military actions and space technology, so I’ll have a “plausible” story about a probably completely impossible situation.

I was reminded yet again, how amazingly lucky I am to have a supportive family. They are my rock. I’d be on the street or dead without their constant help. It’s not what I wanted growing up, but it keeps me alive. And I’m happy to help them all, any way I can.


Just read back my last post

Wow, Past Selves. I was in a mood, huh?

It’s the wee hours of the morning now. I’m not good but I’m probably better off emotionally than I was when I wrote that.

This is why I need my writing. This is why I need this blog, and social media. It’s an outlet. It lets me vent. Cheaper than therapy, too.

Whew. OK, update. I’m still in science fiction mode, though on a different story than the one I had mentioned in earlier posts.

Seems like all my stories are about a nebbish main character who is somehow transformed and given powers, with which to struggle against great cosmic forces. It’s the running theme of all my works, and going back to when I played pretend as a child. I was always a wizard, a superhero, a powerful alien, a robot, anything but an ordinary guy in my fantasies. Wish fulfilment. I wanted, and want, to be something beyond, to change in ways that would give me agency and a decisive role in events. Exactly what I don’t have now, a middle aged, way out of shape man, totally dependent on others to survive, on government agencies, on a medical infrastructure and industries, on even my own family and friends.

I grew up on Heinlein Juveniles and pervasive 70s/early 80s mentality of “can do” spirit, of total independence and self reliance. But those things are literally not physically possible for me. If they ever were they certainly are not going to happen now. I am disabled. Mentally and physically, I am crippled. My shortcomings make me a lifelong dependent on an unstable and unreliable set of circumstances. Civilization teeters, and my life hangs with it.

I am so desperately afraid.

(So much for being in a better mood.)

Moredom boredom

Hiya Past Selves.

Just sitting here wallowing in my own depressive stew. Working intermittently on bits of stories, mixing & matching, altering to fit like patchwork quilts. I call 99% of my day “story research” but honestly it’s sitting on my butt web surfing. (do they even call it that anymore?) More out of shape than ever, less motivated than ever, just kind of existing. I have to force myself to do anything. Bleah.

There’s got to be more than this.

Shifting gears

Hello again, Past Selves. How’ve you been?

I’m back-burnering my fantasy story for a while to let it ferment. Right now I’m doing some work on science fiction, a sort of cross between Han Solo meets Firefly meets Cowboy Bebop.

I need to do that sometimes, set aside one project for another to give my hindbrain time to work on it. I’m using bits and pieces from old story notes to add to this one. Still in the early stages, I haven’t even gotten started on the first draft yet.

Still trying to convince my family that this writing things is really work. Still coping with the same problems. The new dose seems to help a bit. Next time I talk to the Psychiatrist I’ll recommend max dosage.

A stressful time now, for me, my family, and friends. Wish us luck.

25 or 6 to 4

It’s currently around 4 AM here, Past Selves, and I’m wide awake without even coffee.

Chronic insomnia, had 5 sleep studies in my life and each one found a different sleep disorder. And all the older ones were confirmed.

Recently I had my dose of Abilify bumped up in hopes that it’ll help my depression. I start that today. Also, it’s been 3 months since my last seizure and I’m clear to drive again. Even though I hate driving, being without wheels undercut my independence. I needed to be driven everywhere by someone else. Sucks if no one’s home. Cuts into other people’s time. Burdens Mom physically, she gets back pains driving too long.

I don’t recommend it.

Slowed down my writing, not by choice but by distractions. There are just too many things going on right now. I want to tune out but then stuff catches me by surprise if I miss a day of online news, social media, and TV. I don’t want to get overwhelmed but I hate being uninformed too.

Talked to a family friend today about some of our family’s problems and it actually made me feel better just to get it off my chest. I guess I needed a sounding board. Don’t have to be in therapy for that to be therapeutic. Advice: find someone to unburden yourself to. Family, Friends, trustworthy co worker. Whatever. It helps, it really does. Humans are social animals and we have an inbuilt need to communicate and commiserate. Lacking that outlet is bad for us psychologically and emotionally. We often don’t even realize what’s missing.

Thanks, Past Selves. You’ve given me someone to talk to this Weird O’clock in the AM. For being my sounding board(s).

I’m off to make coffee.

Creating Gods And Monsters

Hi Past Selves, me again. Still working on developing a story idea.

It’s basically about a world where godlike alien beings have come to Earth from a cold dark void, overdosed on our planet’s abundant energy and food, and gone crazy fighting each other. In the process, they kill off most of humanity, either directly in their battles or indirectly by generating “mana” energy (the name was given by humans) that adversely affects the central nervous system. They learn about how to communicate with us (the few that bother to) by absorbing the memories of individuals. The individuals do not generally survive the process, and the ones who do… are not who they were anymore.

The setting is one or two ice ages after the Godwar.

The “gods” still occasionally battle each other, but most are now worn down and injured by the millennia of fighting. Being immortal, they cannot die, but they can do everything short of that, including go mad from pain, or lose their intellects and most of their power. Only a handful have avoided becoming wounded in one way or another.

Humans are still around, but mostly as small groups of stone age hunter-gatherers barely surviving on the fringes, fearful of the uncaring greater beings they now share the world with. A few populations of humans have been taken as sort of pets by Gods, being allowed the opportunity to reinvent things like agriculture, irrigation, cities, metal, and writing. (Real people have, historically, invented these things independently whenever the population is large and settled enough. So I’m assuming this will hold true in the future.) These “civilized” concepts are slowly spreading to the surrounding “barbarian” tribes as well.

This is not a pleasant time. It is much like our ancient past, violent and unjust. Many suffer, many toil, many hunger. Life is cheap, cruelty is common.

A man wakes from a dream, only to find he is in the body of a God.

Story begins.

Back in the swing of things …?

Well, hello again, Past Selves. I’ve been away a while.

A lot of stuff has gone down. I’m not going to go into detail, but my depression is getting worse and I need to take steps to combat this problem.

I decided among other things, to start writing again.

I’m tired of having stories running through my head and not going anywhere else. I want to be able to use my talent for making and living in imaginary worlds instead of squandering it and wallowing in my own distractions.

I have a couple of story ideas on tap, with notes for each, a science fiction and a fantasy. Right now I’ll concentrate on the fantasy concept: A world where Gods stride the Earth, the remaining humans live in fear of them, and civilization is long forgotten.

A less depressing world than the real one, unfortunately. At least in the fictional realm, I have some control over who prospers and who suffers.