I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity.
The trouble with fighting for human freedom is that one spends most of one's time defending scoundrels. For it is against scoundrels that oppressive laws are first aimed, and oppression must be stopped at the beginning if it is to be stopped at all.
Many people would sooner die than think; In fact, they do so
What I have been telling you, from alpha to omega, what is the one great thing the sigil taught me — that everything in life is miraculous. For the sigil taught me that it rests within the power of each of us to awaken at will from a dragging nightmare of life made up of unimportant tasks and tedious useless little habits, to see life as it really is, and to rejoice in its exquisite wonderfulness. If the sigil were proved to be the top of a tomato-can, it would not alter that big fact, nor my fixed faith. No Harrowby, the common names we call things by do not matter — except to show how very dull we are ...
May 07, 2012 - 8:39 p.m.
My third day in a row writing! Are you sick of me yet?
I actually did something today. I had lunch with Lauren and Mike. That's noteworthy because they live in Atlanta. They are in town visiting for Lauren's birthday. We didn't have anything exciting. We ate a one of the restaurants on 9th Avenue in the theatre district. I ordered bangers and mash. I was looking forward to it. So what happened? They were out of bangers! That's what I call tragedy. I had a burger instead. A burger is not exciting. Bangers and Mash is.
What did we talk about? I know we talked about geek stuff; physics, math, latin plurals. I pretty much always talk about those things.
After that I went up to Trader Joe's. Everything I bought had chocolate or peanut butter in it. Yes I have a healthy diet.
After that I went to school. I don't have class but I wanted to work on the test I'm giving. I got most of it done, but not all. Because I'm not teaching I didn't dress in my teaching clothes. I'm wearing a We're About 9 t-shirt and cargo pants. When I went into food service the security guy gave me a glare and asked, "What are you doing here? Are you a student?" I said, "No I'm a teacher." I know most of the security people so this was not something I expected. On the bright side he thought I was a student! I look like a teen! OK, I just looked too disreputable to be faculty.
I wanted to kill my colleague today when he bothered me while I was working. I was writing on the computer, had my text out, and earbuds on. Most people would pick up that I'm busy. He never picks up on that. I've been spending a lot of time in the office being actively anti-social and he doesn't notice at all. I overheard him tell someone how friendly I am. I guess that's better than saying "he's a meanie."
Now on to the rabbit hole: today was momentous. I started therapy! Huzzah! OK not huzzah. But a step. One small step for man. One giant leap for the rabbit. How'd it go? I'll tell you I don't know. I hope I'm an exception to the rule that the first session is the one that helps you the most. If not I'll end up switching therapists. I'll give her a chance but that doesn't mean it's a lifetime commitment. I'm there to get help. If I don't I'll find someone that can help. I got that advice from a psychologist that I met socially and have always kept it in the back of my mind.
Did I say I was starting therapy before this? I know I was leading up to it. I'm not sure how much I'll write about it here, I certainly won't give details. I just want to be open about it. I want to make clear that it is nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. I always write about seeing doctors and such so why not therapy? There is no reason. If someone has a problem with it, that's their problem, not mine.
I started my day returning a friend's phone call. He told me something that ended up taking half my therapy session. There's a downside to being the guy that other people go to when they need to talk. I usually don't mind it at all. It usually makes me feel good. But now I need to take care of myself. Things are conspiring against me.
Everyone I've talked to says I'll be all right at the end. Of course they don't know. I hope they are right. They should be. I'm the third child. In fairy tales the third son after many travails ends up marrying the princess. That's true right? And I am smart. As Jurgen would say, I'm a monstrous clever fellow ... but cleverness never was the main thing. But then again it is usually helpful and never goes out of style.
What are my assets? Inigo's sword, Fezzik's strength, and my brains. That's not enough. If I only had a wheelbarrow. During lunch Lauren told a story about her wheelbarrow. I told her I might have to borrow it. With a Inigo's sword, Fezzik's strength, my brains, and a wheelbarrow I can save the princess.
So here's the thing. I was thinking about writing that last paragraph here this morning before Lauren told the wheelbarrow story. Sometimes things just work out.
I signed the Pro-Truth Pledge:
please hold me accountable.
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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 License.
Horvendile May 07, 2012
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