Memories and emotions can be intense. That's why I like to keep some space between me and other people. I need to be careful with memories. Very careful. A mind can play tricks on you, like a bad dream. 

    I had a lot of memories come up today. It's better that I don't discuss certain memories. Some things... it's better for everyone that certain things are not discussed. Sometimes the past can stir up resentments, fear, or sorrow. There are some days that sleep is my only real escape. Sometimes, there is no solution. 

Research - Honor

    Honor was very important in the old South. I want this story to give a realistic picture of South Carolina in the 1860s. That's why I'm spending this time on research. It's not about proving anything. People I know have already made up their minds about me. I've tried many times in my life to impress people. I've had some spectacular failures. I'm not trying to prove anything about me. That's a fool's errand. There's people I know that think they have me all figured out. The hospital, for starters. Sometimes I still try to prove the hospital wrong, but a lot of people I gave up. I can't hold onto the past. I can't relitigate and play out the same old narratives, the same old arguments, the same old appearances. I could do that from now until the end of time, it would make no difference but make me miserable. I try to keep my distance. I don't have the energy for that kind of thing. 

    It took me a while to realize that I can't change people's minds. They have to want to change their beliefs, and most people don't want to do that. It's that famous saying about arguing... no one changes their mind in the end. I don't want to litigate my life story. I'll lose every time. It's not going to help anyone to relitigate my story. There is something I can do, however. I can try to do justice to a story about Greenville. I don't think it will be so hard to do that, because it's not about me, thank God. I may have been born here, but my family isn't from here. So, hopefully I can be impartial, because I really want to give a true sense of what Greenville was like back then. 

    There were a lot of sons that went to war, and I'm writing this story about sons. Young men have something to prove, if not to their fathers, then to society. There were a lot of young men that went off to war back then. Hopefully I can illustrate what it was like to live through that. 

    For example, there was a family that was very important to Greenville that I have mentioned, the Earle family. There were many Earle's fighting not just for the South, there were some fighting for the North, though I don't know if the Northern ones were related in any way. The Southern ones included some brothers and cousins. Joseph Earle became a Senator. Alexander Campbell Earle moved to Alabama to farm. George Washington Earle moved back to Anderson. Lieutenant Claudius Eugene Earle commanded Company B of the 4th Volunteers at Stone Bridge, Battle of Bull Run, and shortly thereafter jumped from the sixth floor of the Ballard House Hotel in Richmond. It's not clear why he committed suicide. He left a letter with instructions on distributing his property and referring to slanders made against him regarding a young woman. 

    Sometimes honor can drive men to do strange things. If I can learn enough and work out the plot and the dialog, then perhaps I can illustrate what honor led the men of Greenville to do. Or perhaps not. But I intend to try. That is what I hope to accomplish. With everyone so concerned about what I do and so confused as to the reasons, I've lost the desire to explain myself. It's exhausting. But I think I can explain Greenville. Anyways, I'm confident that explaining Greenville will be a lot easier then playing the appearances game. 

    Meanwhile, I have to finish getting all the paperwork in order for Accountec to start doing deliveries. 

Civil War Era Greenville

    I've been fascinated by this research into Civil War Greenville and it's inspiring me to consider writing multiple historical fictions. I find history so interesting. 

    From what I've discovered so far there were no major bridges across the Reedy in 1861, as the main street bridge wasn't built until the 1870s. The railroad connection to Columbia had only recently been finished. Greenville County tends to name most roads based on where they lead, though it turns out Parkins mill road wasn't the original Parkins Mill road. Originally, the road leading from Augusta Road was not called Mauldin Road. Before Mauldin existed, before even Butler Crossing existed, Mauldin road was Parkins Mill road. It led from Augusta road (The main trading road) to Parkins' old Mill, currently the site of the sewage treatment plant, which was built after the city of Conestee (Just down the Reedy River past Lake Conestee) sued Greenville for dumping raw sewage and industrial waste into the Reedy in a case that went to the state supreme court twice. 

    The Reedy became the most polluted river in the state and it is still advised not to swim in the water because it is supposedly too contaminated with E. Coli bacteria from human and animal waste. Some sources also advise that you don't fish in the River. At one point the Reedy had a nickname. It was called the Rainbow Reedy, because dyes from the textile mills changed it different colors. 

    Furman University was still located in Greenville during the city war and in fact it is said that James Clement Furman was instrumental in convincing Greenville to vote for succession, as it was traditionally a unionist stronghold. The University was located off of University Ridge Road where the old County square offices await demolition in preparation for a new commercial development that I believe will feature a rooftop cinema. Before it was county offices and after Furman left it had been an indoor mall. 

    Furman was closed during the civil war, as young men were expected to serve and many did, though Greenville was relatively untouched by the civil war and became a refuge for deserters and draft dodgers, especially in the North. The Baptist Female College (Furman's women's college) remained open at the corner of Academy and College streets. 

    Many of the families that the roads are named after (Earle, Caper, Elford, Perry, Jones) were involved in this time period of Greenville history and fought in the Civil War. I'm still tracking down family histories and I need to visit the library. 

    The city is coming alive to me in new ways as I learn more and map out the development. I'll have to compile some of what I find. I've yet to find one online source of Greenville Civil War history. It wasn't particularly eventful so many sources gloss over it. There was, however, an ambulance factory (the former Carriage factory whose building still stands by the Reedy downtown) and an ammunition factory.

    I want to have something to leave behind. After the dust has settled and the talk has died, I want there to be something left... something real. I want people to be able to read and feel connected to the story. I want them to feel like they are part of it. I want to connect with people through the words the way great writers do. Hopefully I can do that. 

    I don't like leaving the house. I worry about social pressures. I worry about intentions. I used to blend in somehow. That's become harder. 

    I want people to really know me. If I use the right words, then they can. I have to find the right words. I don't want to force my words or presence on anyone. But I want people to really know me. Words are elusive. And if I don't find the words, the narratives will be built anyways, and I'll be shut out. I took for granted that I would find the words. That people would know me. But if I don't find the words, what will they say about me? Judging from experience, nothing good.

    I have to find the words. Before it's too late. I really don't know if I'll find them all. I want to be able to give the world something meaningful. Something of true value. 

    What worries me is that I may fail to bring the characters to life. Social interaction hasn't been so easy in recent years. Not that I was ever a social butterfly. Will I be able to write lifelike people if I don't grasp all the social complexities? I need to be cautious. I don't have the energy to keep running into walls.

    I've gotten a touch distracted. I need to take great care. My desire is to finish some fiction. Something that people can enjoy. I'm still building up a well of projects. I'm generating ideas. I cannot afford to let myself neglect this. 

Research on Civil War Society

     I'm continuing to research the events and culture of the civil war era, the politics and the people. It's very interesting. I'll have to make some field trips. I'm trying to define the scope of the book. It was a large war, and I don't intend for it to be comprehensive on the war itself. I'd like to cover a number of key events, however. I definitely plan to mention Bull Run, the aftermath of Gettysburg, and the burnings of Columbia and Chambersburg. 

I've moved from researching the bloody fourth to refreshing my general civil war knowledge and finally to knowledge specific to Greenville circa 1861. This morning I did a rough outline of the first few chapters and begin writing chapter one, in which the protagonist has arrived in Greenville to find and assist his father, who had traveled with the rest of the family down to sell some goods, leaving his son behind to manage the estate.

The Palmetto Riflemen

    I've definitively identified 3 of 4 Earles that were supposedly part of the Palmetto Rifleman (B Company) of the 4th Volunteers: Captain Alexander Campbell Earle of Greenville, Lieutenant Charles Eugene Earle of Greenville, and George Washington Earle of Anderson. The First two were brothers and the third was a first cousin. A.C. went on to lead the Earle Cavalry after the 4th dissolved and moved to Alabama after the war. Charles Eugene committed suicide the day after commanding company B in the unexpected absence of its captain during the first battle of Bull Run. G.W. survived the war and returned to Anderson. 

    The fourth Earle, Joe, is a bit mysterious. There is a Joseph Earle, cousin of A.C. and Charles Eugene and also from Greenville, but he joined the Charles Artillery Battery, not the 4th Volunteers. He survived the war and died as a sitting U.S. Senator. I've decided to write a fictional character to take his place. I'm going to place him as the son of an abolitionist who is caught in the South at the beginning of the war and poses as Joseph Earle when joining the 4th. This will give me a chance to write a bit of an outsider's perspective of the Palmetto Rifleman and A.C. Earle's Cavalry. 

I've compiled the major events of the 4th volunteers and Alexander C. Earle's Cavalry and I'm beginning to put down some prose for the beginning of the story. I'm also working on filling out a works in progress page to track my completion of the different stories I'm writing.

So far, it's...

Tales of the Attick

All the Colors of the Rainbow

The Watcher

Induced Psychosis

The Messenger

Greater America

The Bloody Fourth

     I've decided to write the story of the Bloody Fourth, also known as the 4th South Carolina Volunteers, a regiment of upstate soldiers who held the line at the 1st Battle of Bull Run, a.k.a. the 1st Battle of Manassas. I found a book of letters that's giving me some background. The unit was formed in Anderson, SC with men from Anderson, Greenville, Oconeee, and Pickens. The unit saw heavy fighting at Bull Run and did not survive the war, but was broken up into other units, one of which, Earle's Company of cavalry, eventually was disbanded in Greenville, though not before being charged with desertion.

Research

    I've decided to engage in some research to enhance my writing projects. I've been bringing some new ideas down the pipeline. I still am working on some more Tales of the Attick, All the Colors of the Rainbow, and The Watcher, but I have a new idea for a political satire, a coming of age piece, and an alternative history piece. I'm going to review some civil war history, early 20th century, and a few classics such as Romeo and Juliet, Gone with the Wind, 1984, Cyrano De Bergerac.

    I'm working on adjusting Accountec to focus on managing my 1099 delivery income and hopefully my writing income. I don't see it being possible to do taxes and bookkeeping as a business given my particular disabilities, but I think doing deliveries is more manageable. As soon as I get my new glasses I'll be able to start delivering. The medicine the doctor gave me helps with my focus and driving anxiety.

    I'm working on some new writing projects. I hope of my various ideas to have something new to post soon. I'm trying to minimize distractions.

Metamorphosis

    I think this is my opportunity. I've been somewhere between The Metamorphosis and The Invisible Man. Maybe I can come out new. Maybe this is my chance to reinvent myself and wipe the slate clean. Everyone thinking they got me figured out, maybe I can disrupt the game. I've been changing the players. But I need to change the story too. It's not enough to clear away the Bipolar and all the rules that it came with. I need to reinvent. I really do need to start over, but without moving. Maybe I can find a way to do that. I'm tired of maintaining this persona. It makes no sense. Full of contradictions. The world is moving. If I can't catch up, maybe I can change the rules. Maybe there's a better way to write this story. I do have a name. I have to decide what that name stands for. My words and actions will make the difference.

Opportunity knocks

    In a way this dystonia thing provides me with an expected opportunity: To put to rest the bipolar BS. I had no choice but to stop aripiprazole. The involuntary muscle movements were painful, and were waking me up from sleep. So I had to stop the medication. This means I am on no Bipolar medication: No mood stabilizers, no antipsychotics, plenty of antidepressants, and a stimulant. So I should definitely become manic if I am truly bipolar. So far I see no signs. Keep in mind the original diagnosis was made after a reaction to a medication and a lot of indoctrination. Either I'll go stark raving mad or I'll finally be free. It will be a relief to know the truth regardless of how it turns out. 

I'm spending some time in meditation today, continuing to strive for that inner peace. I'm also filling my well of writing ideas and continuing to experiment with different writing projects. 

 

Arachnids marching 3 by 3 huzzah! Huzzah!

Finding Peace in the Chaos

    I can understand why some people are frustrated. We see the present through the lens of our understanding of the past. For a lot of the Bipolar education and treatment, it was only me and a doctor. They don't know the extent to which I was misled and miseducated. All they know is their experience: It's been chaotic, with a lot of meds and theory. It would be much easier if it was all just made up, rather than a misinterpretation. It takes a lot of energy and time to entertain misconceptions. I don't have that energy and time. It's a waste of energy and time. That's why I focus on basic symptoms that everyone can agree on: things like dystonia. I'm focusing on my strengths: written words. I'm focusing on basics: proper nutrition and managing my finances. We have limited time on this earth; I hope to create something with my words. Something people can enjoy... stories and poems. 

    I have to have some truth in my life, even if everyone else is in love with a myth. The healthcare situation got out of hand. There's more to me then labels and medications. There's more to me then how dust free my home is. I can be funny. I can be fun to be around. But I don't have the energy to debate my psychology. I don't see why some people so fixated on certain aspects of my personality. Then they wonder why I need space. Instead of answering the same questions, arguing about the same details until I'm blue in the face. There's more to life. I need to find it. Alone, if necessary. But hopefully not.

    Hopefully my life will have people in it that I don't need to argue with or talk in circles or treat conversations like interrogations. I don't know. There are some people I have spoken to in a long time, and I don't know BS the next conversation might bring. But somehow, I need to find a way to communicate better with people. To get them to understand that there are some things that I don't have the energy for. I'm exhausted of playing games with people. I'm tired of implied accusations, guilting, shaming, and all the rest. I'm tired of being manipulated. Tired of being treated as less than, whether intentionally or unintentionally. Tired of loaded questions and statements. Tired of the whole judge and jury bit. There's got to be something real beyond all of the BS. I need something real. And that's what counseling is about for me: finding what is real and truth after so much time arguing and playing along. I'm way too old to be living my life that way. I'm not actually 10-25 years old. 

    Maybe, just maybe, if people want to be in my life they might eventually catch on. Because I'm running out of ways to explain what I feel should be obvious by now. I can't play along anymore. I need something real. I regurgitate old arguments, accusations, judgments and resentments anymore. I've wasted way too much time. Life is too short. I don't have the energy. This person is permanently closed for unsolicited advice. This is me. Take it or leave it. Whichever you choose, but there is no third option. I don't enjoy the frustration or chaos any more than anyone else. So, for God's sake, don't come into my life to fix me. You won't succeed. 

Reasons Why I Don't Fit FDIA

    Ok, so I had some clarification explained to me. Even though I'm confident I don't have Bipolar, I do have something else... several somethings... autism, ADHD, and cPTSD/DID. Which means I don't have FDIA, I was just a little miseducated on what I do have. It was still harmful to be misdiagnosed and miseducated on my health. I do think that having more control over my healthcare and more education on my actual problems has been helpful. Maybe my life will seem a little less like a game of "Clue" now that I've cleared up some of that. 

    I haven't been fighting just for the sake of being disagreeable, I've been fighting for clarity. This time I have taken to be alone and to seek counseling has helped me find that clarity. But these crusades by certain people in my life to push narratives on Bipolar and drugs have been distracting, to say the least. I hope I have seen the end of the crusades. I'm tired of fighting. It's a relief just to breathe and enjoy proper healthcare.

 

Gary, hold still this will only take a minute.

 

Fly me here! Fly me there!

    One of the weirder things about the hospital was the way some people kept implying that I had some sort of secret master plan. It was very bizarre. I think people want to believe that everything happens for a reason so badly that they cannot see the randomness as it happens. They want to believe there is some bigger plan, that everything is moving with purpose. They cannot see the chaos and the randomness of life. It's too disturbing. They want to believe there are secret plans and secret going ons, when more often it's just a lot of people doing their own individual and often short-term things. 

Dystonia Strikes Again

Side effects can be frustrating. Now I had to stop a medication because of dystonia. I couldn't sleep because of muscle spasms. The hospital people said just go to the ER if you need to. I think I'll be ok. But I'll keep that in mind.

Tired

    Doc changed things a little the other day. I think the change is helping. 

    It's hard to keep faith in today's world. There's a lot of hatred out there. I try to stay focused on being kind. That's not always easy to do. Agendas run around, there's always someone recruiting for some kind of crusade. I want to write some stories to entertain and hopefully make people laugh. I think the world could use some clean, healthy laughter. It's a beautiful thing. It helps bring people together, helps them relax. Life gets confusing which people running in different directions, looking for someone to pull along for the ride. I hope to write some more funny stories. I love to make people laugh with some clean humor. 

    I worry about the agendas. Always someone trying to sign me up for something. If they're not signing me up for something they're pigeonholing me and telling me what I believe in a kind of, if you're not with us, you're against us thing. As if we're all on teams fighting against each other. That's how I got into the whole 'sides' thing. Then they were calling me paranoid. Maybe I just don't want to sign up for the latest crusade. I don't understand the running around. All this activity, so frenzied, as if a PTA drive is life or death. 

    Give me a reason to fight and I'll fight, but mostly I see a lot of chaos of different people with their pet causes going on the warpath. Ready to run me over because I don't agree that XYZ cause is the end all and be all. So much division, and people just chomping at the bit for more and more of it. 

    That's why I'm saying, count me out. I'm not going to fight people just to make a point. I'm not going to run around just to make a show. So eager to sign me up for a half dozen different things just to keep me running around, consequences be whatever, so long as there's action, never mind the end result.

    I don't know if I'm the only one who finds the chaos of modern life disorienting. I yearn for the clarity of a pure cause. One that is not tainted by special interests or pet projects. I don't know if I would call it corruption, but there's always undercurrents, unspoken goals, vague nuance, read-between-the-lines activity. 

    Growing up, everything seemed so much simpler, purer, cleaner. Now life is one big ugly mess in motion, dressed up to look like something else. I'm always looking for hidden motives, not because I'm paranoid, but because people literally don't mean what they say and I'm not quite as naïve as I used to be. It's impossible to have a conversation without getting hooked into something. Where are all the clean, respectable role models? Where are the good people? All I'm seeing are the every-man-for-himself types and the hypocrites, the jackals and the con artists. I wish I could say different, I really do. It makes me sad inside. 

    I need to keep my peace. The next crusade is just around the corner. I don't want to get swept up this time. I don't want to be played. I don't want to be a pawn in some man's game. I want to mind my own business. Everyone else is out getting theirs. I need to have something for myself. I never wanted to see it that way. I wanted to believe. That ain't worked out so well. I need to keep my peace. This world can run people over in a heartbeat. Best not attract attention. I hate to say it. I really do. But I don't know how to please people these days. I feel tired inside. I feel weary in my soul. 

    It took me a while to see. I was delusional. But I see now. And it makes me sad inside. This world can run you over. You might never see it coming. I'm broke. I'm tired. And I'm getting old. I'm pretty sure most everyone has already decided whose fault that is. And I can't change their minds. 

    It's always, what the hell is wrong? Why can't you? And I'm just tired of arguing. Can't teach the blind to see what they don't want to see. They're too busy signing me up for the next crusade. They've got me all figured, I'm just tired of playing along. 

    There have been a few people that have truly seen me. Not just pretending to, not seeing what they want to see, but seeing the real me. I think in recent months I could count those on one hand: 2 friends, 1 counselor, 1 nurse, and one lady I ran into at an appointment. Five people. In a metro area of over a million. 

    Honestly, I don't even get the feeling that the doc understands. He gets close to understanding, close enough to do the job. He tries. He gets close. I know he wants to understand. But I feel like we're different. He understands all those medical people that I don't get. He's able to fit into the frenzy. I'm the part that keeps bumping up against all the other parts until the whole process jams. I'm the voice that never quite knows what to say in the moment, and then the moment passes by. I'm the one that comes to in the middle of a conversation realizing that I haven't the slightest clue what people are talking about or worse, I simply do not care. 

    I came into this trying to resolve issues and I'm coming out with a fist of pills and no answers, just detours and revisions. They gave me the option to whittle down my list of labels. But honestly, I could only eliminate two: drug addict and bipolar. I'd like to eliminate more but that seems factually inaccurate to attempt. 

    I even tried to donate blood. It was going to be two birds with one stone: 1. I would help people 2. I would make a little money. Nope. They wouldn't take me. Spent all that time. A couple hours. Told them from the very get go I had a VNS implant. They wasted all my time only to turn me around and say, we don't take people with VNS implants. Well, why the hell did you waste all my time? I told you from the get-go. Felt like such an idiot walking out of there. I told them the minute I walked in. Makes no sense. 

    I'm tired of talking to people with closed ears. Now, it's like message in a bottle. Not going to waste my voice. VNS already gives me a sore throat; I'm not going to waste my voice. It's just pointless. 

    I do enjoy some things. I enjoy my peace. It's nice at home, no one to please or entertain or deter. Just me and the cat. This world is so weird. It can't all be me. 

    I really like the Walmart+, but not what you think. It's not the saving a trip to the store. The store is just 5 minutes away. That doesn't bother me. No, I love being able to pick exactly what I need and the software saves what I pick so instead of going around all the distractions and trying to make sure I get everything I need and just what I need and almost always getting something I don't need or forgetting something, I always get exactly what I need. Yeah, they goofed up a couple times. Couple times they left things out. Then sometimes I have to substitute so I get a different brand. A couple times they gave me stuff I didn't order for free. But I've gotten it down to a system and I always get what I need. That is priceless. Not having to worry about traffic is an added bonus. I can't afford an accident. 

    I need an editor to help me with some quality control and what not but unfortunately, I've been too far past the point of caring. It's true what they say though: it can always get worse. I just hope it gets better. Tired of the medical and people trying to fix me. I'm honestly not sure exactly how the VNS helps me but I don't need any more setbacks. I'm leaving the thing alone. 

Recovery

    I'm still working on reducing expenses and finding a job. I'm going to have to write off the business startup expenses as a loss. Managing my health takes too much of my time to run a real business. I'm going to try some food delivery if I can manage my driving anxiety. Ever since the doctor quit and I had that accident, I don't like driving so much. If it's a familiar area and traffic isn't bad I'm ok. Plus I need new glasses before I drive a lot. Unless I use the contacts, but I can't use those much. Hopefully soon, I'll have a new job. 

    Between the anxiety and the lack of income, it's not been great. Of course, the THC products were great for anxiety, but the hospital doesn't see it that way. So they prescribed something. As soon as I can fill it... should be easier. I guess they feel better when they have total control. It's been hard to get the meds filled on time though. The insurance puts up road blocks or I run out of refills or the pharmacy is out. I just hope I get a job soon. I need some income and I don't feel great about driving a lot. I can't afford an accident and I'm not as sharp as I used to be. 

    I'm told some things are permanent. I've felt rather helpless in recent years. It's frightening when you can't keep up. Used to be I was a little behind the pack. Now it's not even close. I'm in my forties and in the same career/financial position as someone in their 20s. It's really sad. You can only pretend so much until the truth becomes obvious. Down right depressing. I've pushed the limits of the medication so hard that the doctors threaten to quit. It's just ridiculous. 

    So now I'm focusing on minimizing my expenses. I'm trying to cut them to the absolute bone. I still have some progress to make on that. It's the only way to make sure that I don't become homeless. I just didn't realize it was this bad. I thought I could still catch up. They're telling me that's not realistic.