Week 3

Oh for the love of Pete this sad cloud of mania can buzz off anytime now. I’m absolutely all in, done, beat to a pulp, so over it. Woke up this morning sat on the bed looking out the window sore, someone rolled my hyde out with a rolling pin, I can’t even comb my hair it feels loose in the roots yet pulling it a bit seems to help my skull from burning. I sat there in that familiar morning gaze, first feeling out of the gate, tears. Why? Just because I’m sad, no reason else just sad. Up up up. The kids get moving and I’m behind them though tenderized. Cold water to my face, peas on my eyes, up up up. Every single instinct in me wants to go lay down, pull the covers over my head and ostridge this episode away. That’s why so many of us who walk between the rows “take to the bed” this sure ain’t pleasant, it’s flat out gross at time, great big invading bully, yawn!!

My father came to visit last week. I never see my dad due to distance and that he works every single day on his logging truck. Taking a day off sets him back yet when we let others know I was struggling, I never activate the mental health phone tree but when we do it’s a bad go. I really needed family and he without thought just packed up and came up to just sit with me at times. Really meant a lot we’ve never talked about my disorders, he’s of a very old way of thinking. I know how uncomfortable he is around me. This is the first time he actually seen my face sick. He’s scared. I’m thankful he came, had a feed together for thanksgiving I can cook it’s a family trait, put together a good spread, even shot with a tranquilizer dart in my ass. I’m glad in a very odd way that my dad took sick a few years ago. Not nice to say but it’s the truth.

A few years ago dad developed a enpiema in his lung, it’s a egg like capsule filled with spores. It’s a fungal thing and when it broke in his lung from coughing with the flu it nearly killed him. They took half his lung out to stop the thing and remained in icy for a month. I was up here in Toronto working and came home immediately. I stayed in the hospital with him sleeping in chairs and on the floor at times watching him. At that very scary time I saw my father, now looking grey and older laying there tubes everywhere, dying. I said fuck it all I’ll take any relationship. I know If that had not happened I’d not know my dad as a adult. He’s trying, I’m trying and hopefully we grow closer. I can say that his visit meant the world to me.

Well shit biscuits.





Pop… true story the percussion of my body are singing the go lay down blues.

Lacing up my gloves,


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