I've started to journal on here because typing flows better than writing and I feel secure that this site will not crash and erase my journal. I am also too lazy to go out and buy an external hard drive to back everything up on. I don't consider this hanging out my dirty laundry. There is still a bit of anonymity though I really haven't kept much private since the world watched my maelstrom level my life as well as others'.
I started this without any preamble. My name is Jonathan. I am diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder as well as having acute PTSD. I have psychotic tendencies if I've gone unmedicated. This was all determined in the twenty-eighth year of my life, this last year. Unfortunately, the life that I had built up had to be completely annihilated in order for me to live life as it ought to be live. It was hard to have everything
that I knew as my world be taken from me. My world was burned down quicker than General Sherman and a fleet could've singed it. When what you know as real isn't real you have to learn to be aware of it and it can be truly terrorizing. This journal isn't solely based upon my illness, my sexuality, my past, or even present. It's a therapeutic record and a safe place where I can be totally honest. My treatment team has quick access too. They check it at their discretion. Being that this is on the net it's not really all that discreet.My days are not filled with pills and sedation. I'm quite functional and agile enough to navigate my life now with a little bit of intense help from my treatment team for the time being. I will not limit out the possibilities of a less vehemently chaperoned life. But this...the fables of my reconstruction, shows that it's a continuing effort, as is anything. This blog will be full of random editorials. I tend to have a knack for them. My vocabulary is extensive and may seem grandiloquent or even pompous and bombastic. I apologize. I was raised with certain principles. For instance, my momma had me sit on my hands if I began to gesticulate when I talked. She said it went back to simpletons only able to count on their fingers. She required us to paint with words and to be more verbose. Emily Post was very popular in our rearing. I speak French as well. Please don't think that I consult a thesaurus on everything.
In this entry I would like to pass on four pertinacious ideals that perfect adherence to may be impossible but I claim progress not perfection. They are my perso
nal mantras that I recite in repitition to myself all day.1. You do NOT have to fix anyone. Let them take care of their own crazy...it's a big relief this way
2. You only react to people and situations due to the power you give them.
3. Acceptance is VERY different from approval. This means that if you scald your crotch with coffee or the cuntface infront of you in the checkout at Whole Foods (AKA WHOLE PAYCHECK) pays for everything with an EBT card and 5 bastard screaming children in tow.......You have a blistered dick and some people find a GREAT way to scam the government for free food and the universe works itself out...don't fret it all to the point of going postal.
4. In the dawning of my age of grace I am witnessing a civil rights battle that parallels no other. Racial and religious minorities have shed nothing more than throwing us shade when it comes to unorthodox marriages. When we do cross the threshold we have one MAJOR promise outside of keeping our capacity to be totally honest....this promise I speak of is "FORSAKING ALL OTHERS". If you are not ready to stand by your mate through any form of illness or injury you probably do not have the capacity to be in a marriage. What you have the capacity for, I don't know. That's none of my business. This sort of sanctified, consecrated dependability I refer to equates with personal integrity. To eradicate that vow is more than just some sort of sin of omission. It's a broken promise and that makes you just another statistic. You can add yourself to the lexicon of unreliable, self-absorbed men throughout history. You have not navigated or circumvented the proverbial obstacles a man faces to claim that he is a gentleman. You are in no way authentic or aberrant of atypical smarmy behavior. If you are a victim of arrested development, as am I, you need to fix your shit...bluntness saves more time. I digress. You are nothing more than the common homo-lothario. Don Juans, Casanovas, Romeos, and Lotharios are fiction. Life needs to be lived in the raw. So, in closing, forsaking others is not some cumbersome albatross hanging around your neck. It's a joy to flow with because love is unconditional. There is no shame in admitting you are inadequate of fulfilling that promise beforehand. Honesty makes you loyal to yourself. A promise broken makes the promiser a liar. It's simple and should not cause a man to become addle-brained. None of us have time for regrets, self-recrimination, and kicking ourselves in the pants. If you're husband becomes incredibly disfigured, lies in a hospital bed in a coma, or, heaven forbid, is stricken down with a genetic or mental illness that he may or may not have been bequethed with from ancestrally predisposition...you must stick to the oath. Stay the course or at least be forthright on your wedding day and bring along counsel equipped with documents that are riddled with more cosmetic riders than Mariah Carey's contract templates. If you are on the receiving end, the promisee, forgive and forget. And be big enough to forget what it was that you forgave.
I've attached some art by artists that are schizophrenic. They've truly piqued the art world's interest as they have mine. The last is a photo shot of my neck. We'll broach that injury when I feel I've reached the point where I can process the event that detonated a blitz on two worlds.
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