insomnia and writer's block strike again

Hello everyone. As the title of this entry indicates, it looks like I'm in for another scrap with insomnia unless I really get lucky sleep-wise over the next while. What really twigged me to this was yesterday in church. I started to notice that my voice sounded deeper, less cheerful and more listless than it usually does to my own ears. It only hit home towards the end of my time there. Suddenly, I thought back to how often I had gotten up either much later or earlier than usual over the past week. Particularly when there's no real routine in life, insomnia has an incidious way of sneaking up on you. So many days since this whole chapter in life after Janene left me have been the same. Too damned similar and too damned solitary. I've put so much effort into changing that over the Summer but have gotten absolutely nowhere other than coming away with a few more people to email or talk to at a distance. I even tried interjecting myself into a conversation in Symposium I overheard as I prepared to head home. Big mistake. Janene seemed to do it so effortlessly but I figure there must be visual cues I'm missing there. I felt intrusive and likely just made an ass of myself. I'll still absolutely enjoy meals I have there despite the lack of company. I'm also getting to know the staff a bit better. However, I think it's safe to say that Symposium is a good place to bring people who you've somehow met elsewhere to. The next time I luck out and a woman near enough takes an interest in me, I'll have somewhere to meet her at which isn't my parent's house. That, of course, presupposes that I'll actually be noticed by someone near enough to visit and interested in at least friendship. You just really feel the irony when you meet people on the way to and from there who have all sorts of time to help you but none to get to know you. To have so many interests, be as open and outgoing as I am, and still have nobody to really share that with in person is damned frustrating and painful in a fundamental way. If there were a group of people around my age I could join even once per week for socialisation or some shared interest, it would help a great deal. There doesn't seem to be anything like that though. Everyone else on the planet seems to be too busy, already taken, or too damned far away.

This round of insomnia is definitely going to make the next while drag painfully. However, after what I went through when Janene broke up with me, the real danger is that I might underestimate it and let it get the upper hand. Nothing seems anywhere near as bad in comparison. Of course, I could get extremely lucky, have a few nights of good sleep and avoid it entirely. I'd have an easier time hoping for that were there more substance in my life. when there's nobody special who might want to go out somewhere, no job other than the massive project I've set for myself, and no real reason even to shave other than the dread of how damned bothersome it'll be after a few days of not doing so, it's too easy to slip into bored oblivion. As much as possible, I know I have to keep my spirits up and try to be ready for any unexpected experiences, people, or opportunities which God might send my way. Until I've fully recovered from this, I won't touch a drop of alcohol. Having it become the master of me is just not on. As always, I'll face my rough patches with a sober head. I doubt that having my usual maximum of one drink in an ordinary day would actually do any real damage. However, it isn't something I'm willing to chance. Fortunately, I'm very well stocked with podcasts, a couple of books, and whatever digital cable TV might have to offer over the next while. As long as I don't sink to that utterly torturous point where I can't focus my mind on anything, I ought to be able to get through this. If I'm very lucky, I might come away with ideas which rid me of the writer's block which has once again gotten me in its clutches. One can only hope and pray. I'm hopeful that I might be able to write down a concise version of my story for a person on a listserve I belong to where everyone is on ODSP. A collection of a thousand such stories is being collected in order to be sent to parliament in hopes that they might make a difference. That list is a kind of perverse comfort as most people who are on it have far bigger issues to deal with than I do. A lot of them have gotten into deep financial trouble, have obvious mental illness, and have become estranged from their families. There's a whole lot of utter misery out there which I know I've fortunately managed to avoid. My circumstances certainly constrain me and prevent me from engaging more fully with life. It's extremely frustrating but at least I know that my basic needs are covered. Some of these people might actually go off the rails and truly flip out. In fact, reading some of the stories which have been posted, a number of them actually have done so. I hope that my somewhat less dire story does somebody some good.

Rather than saving the various new rpg books I purchased in anticipation of a long, dull and lonely winter, I fear I'll have to start in on them earlier once this bout with insomnia is behind me. There's some hope that Atlantice Found and Subterainian, the two fictional books which seem interesting enough to help me through the next few days, may offer enough ideas which I can adapt for Enchantment's Twilight so I won't have to dig into books like the GURPS basic manual and other such sources until winter time.

Not a lot has happened over the past while. Dad's off golfing for the week and hopefully enjoying his yearly trip. Mom certainly has plenty to keep her occupied babysitting the grandkids, visiting friends, and doing her painting. I can only hope I'm that lucky when I'm her age. At times like this, it's all to easy to imagine the next thirty years going by without anything getting better for me. Short of resourting to the utterly absurd or downright criminal, there just doesn't seem to be any way to change life. I'm really not cut out for either the absurd or the criminal. You'd think I'd have sufficient cause for that kind of anger or disenchantment with society at large. However, there's that small issue of empathy. I want to be remembered for the good things I've managed to do, for being a good friend, and hopefully, for being there when I'm needed. That's just how i was made. I just have to keep ready, keep knocking on doors and wait for things to finally change. I know they will eventually. Over the shorter term, there's more social occasions at church and our upcoming trip to Winnipeg. That'll make for a nice change of pace. Also, after I'm back from that trip, I'm going to check out Mississauga Community Living as well as the local police to see if there might be any way I could be of use to those organisations. My brother thought that it might be a good idea for me to get in touch with the police since they'd certainly have the vehicles to get me to wherever they might be able to make use of me. I hadn't thought of that idea before. It's certainly worth pursuing once we're back. Having such things in the future helps a lot. I know I won't sink too far down. It's still damned annoying to have days like this where I feel this lethargic.

I caught the first episode of Flash Forward last week. It's good enough to give the next couple episodes a try. Robert J. Sawyer seems very happy with how it turned out. While I'm certainly happy for him, it just didn't hook me in all that profoundly. The book was ever so much better. I spent most of a day and a part of another rereading the book. I also listened to Crazy Dog Audio Theatre's The Stuff of Myth. It's a kind of musical commedy which I found mildly amusing. I've picked up a few new audio dramas from ZBS Audio in order to help pass some time. That raises the whole problem of my fear of becoming too much of a consumer. I'm spending money on things in order to pass time that I'd much rather spend in the company of others. There's just nothing else to do though. It's either that or sit there bored out of my skull with nothing at all new to occupy me in solitude. Podcasts, games, online discussions, documentaries and the like are the square pegs I'm sticking into round holes. Helpful but never entirely satisfactory. I need some way to connect with the wider community around me rather than all these people I'm never going to meet. You have that sense of actually making a difference when you're in a relationship. You also find it if you're lucky enough to have a meaningful career. As a single man limited in his ability to get places, the only time I find that satisfaction is occasionally through friends or when I complete one of my projects and hear from the people who it has made a difference for. Enchantment's Twilight will certainly have a good impact when it's at last ready but its such a large undertaking that I need to find something else in the interim.

There's a hellish kind of gloom hanging over me. I know intelectually that things must eventually get better. Affordable housing will finally come through and I'll actually have a place of my own if nothing else. This dark tunnel will at last end or change radically in character. It just seems like such a damned long walk through a thick fog which cancels out one's efforts. I've literally done everything possible to change things and have gotten nowhere. It's truly in God's hands now. I'm as ready and able to serve as I can be.

a good day winding down

Hello everyone. I've just had a most enjoyable Thursday morning. The weather is about as good as it gets. a beautiful morning to head down to Symposium for a relaxed brunch. As always, the food and drink didn't disappoint. I tried their deluxe omelet which was absolutely splendid with home fries and toast. It came with coffee. The thought of coffee on a hot day has never struck me as all that brilliant. I've heard that stuff about how it actually helps keep your body cooler drinking something hot but that line of logic just doesn't quite ring true. Nonetheless, it's still quite counter-intuitively enjoyable provided a colder drink is at hand. I filled that requirement with a delicious pineapple strawberry fruit freezy. The atmosphere was quite enjoyable. There will probably always be a sense that someone ought to be there with me to talk to across the table. Being able to listen around a place hearing bits and pieces of other peoples' lives does take some of the edge off the sense of isolation I've dealt with since the break-up. I take my netbook along in case I happen to hear something which sparks a good idea. No luck yet on that score but I'd hate to not be ready again when that happens. There have been one too many such agonizing times in my nearly thirty-five years of life. Whipping out my digital recorder and saying the idea just doesn't work as well for me. It's good for getting peoples' phone numbers or instructions but the act of typing something down seems to help me clarify them at least a little. There's more of a chance of the idea eventually coming in handy if I'm able to edit and clarify it. For obvious reasons, a pencil and notepad just doesn't cut the mustard for me. A netbook turned on and left in standby mode with Jarte loaded, on the other hand, is about as close to perfect a tool for a travelling writer as humanly possible. If I ever want to read anything I produce publicly, I would need a Braille display. However, at present, one of those is well beyond my means to acquire. Netbooks are just the right size. Not too small to work with like one of those pocket-sized cell phones that are the modern equivalent of the Swiss army knife. Not so large that you feel like you're carrying enough equipment to set up shop for the day. You actually are, but unlike a full-sized laptop, one doesn't get that impression.

Going there and back went without any problems whatsoever this time. I met a security guard who came over to see if I needed any help getting there. It was wonderful to be able to say that I actually didn't. Hopefully, over time, people will see me as someone who would be interesting to get to know rather than just someone who might need help. What i really need help doing is connecting with such people who are geographically close enough to change the tambour of my life. I had a wonderful chat earlier in the morning on:
www.vipconduit.com
There's a fairly consistent group of folks who cybernetically congregate in "the coffee shop", one of several chat rooms open to registered members. They're mainly scattered all over the US. They're pleasant and interesting folks, most of whom are somewhat older than I am. It makes for a pleasant enough start to a day. Not as good as enjoying brunch with a group of regular attendees would be, but for the present, it's what I'm going to have to make the best of. Slowly, I'm adjusting to that reality. Acceptance, grudging though it might be, is lifting away the cloud which has hung over me all Summer. I don't dread the Autumn or even the Winter. Hopefully, I might even have two or three months to enjoy the fruits of my labour and further solidify my first true victory in the area of mobility which directly benefits my own interests before snow and blustery winds make the walk too dangerous.

Yesterday, I had my second-last mobility lesson for now. The next one will be a mere formality to have him watch me do the route there and back and impart any last tips or other thoughts Ray might have. He's been a superb instructor. Very patient and always up-beet. Nevertheless, I'm pretty much burnt out for now in terms of learning how to go places. For me, learning that route was about equivalent in terms of time and effort to passing a third-year course in university. Not something to be undertaken lightly. Think about it. If you had to put in that much to learn how to get somewhere even relatively close, how many places would you get to on your own? I've essentially done two of those back to back. For the first one, I was just approaching mastery of that route to see Janene when she up and left me. It was a complete waste of my time as well as two interns and one of the CNIB's best instructors. I didn't even get the satisfaction of using what I had learned once before it was brutally rendered irrelevant. I'll never put myself through that again unless and until I've moved out of here and into a permanent place of residence. It has to count for more than just smoke on the wind from now on. Learning one route doesn't make learning the next one any easier for me. I won't feel at all guilty asking people for rides. Once I'm settled somewhere more permanent, thanks largely to the quirky but helpful Trekker Breeze, It'll actually be a worth-while investment to learn to get places within walking range on my own. A potential bonus from this victory might be the community centre. Presuming I can find a way to the entrance rather than merely what I presume is the rear wall, perhaps, there'll be something there that I can contribute my time and talent to or otherwise participate in. Something to investigate on an upcoming jaunt. It may be the same place where The Dam operates. I got the impression that this work happened inside the town centre mall itself on an upper level but that might have been mistaken. Wouldn't that suck if the one place I could get to and potentially volunteer at was the very same organization which has already barred me for not knowing for absolute certain that I'll be here at least two years? At least this time, it won't be my inability to get there on my own which will block me from volunteering or participating. Dare I even entertain the hope that for once, something else won't bar me from inclusion?

Prior experience certainly cautions me not to hold my breath in anticipation of success. And yet, to a profoundly surprising extent, I can't help it. Where on Earth does this endless inexhaustible hope for a better future where my abilities are actually put to more optimal use come from? "Sorry, Mike. Your good character, willingness to work and university degree don't count for shit. We'd sooner hire a secondary school dropout." "Sorry, Mike. You bent over backwards trying to make the marriage work but I'm eight years older than you and my depression-clouded judgements about life and people count for more than your more positive level-headed ones. See you." "Sorry, Mike. You've spent two years building a loving relationship and being there when I needed someone who would let me vent and not judge me by my looks. I know I accepted your engagement ring and said at the time that you were foolish to entertain any worry that I'd say no. However, you're ultimately not worth marrying. Have a nice life willing to do your part but trapped on the cusp of adulthood anyhow." "Sorry, Mike. I know you paid a hundred bucks to give Eharmony a chance like the rest of us but you're not even worth the mindless effort it takes to return your introductory volley of multiple guess questions let alone actually go out to dinner with." Now *there* was a case where I would have done better buying up a hundred bucks worth of lottery tickets. As astronomical as they are, my odds of success would probably have been greater. You'd think I would have learned by now. God knows why I haven't given up the ghost of hope yet.

Hey! Come to think of it, he *does* know. It's *his* fault entirely! He made me this way and then stuck the good friends and supportive family in place to make certain I felt compelled to cheerfully jump down each and every well which might possibly hold the refreshing water of life experience despite having the intellect to expect the stony bottom of rejection. Said people now include two adorable neaces who I'll be spending tomorrow with on a trip to Canada's Wonderland followed by a swim and visit back here at my parents' home. I at least have the title of Uncle Mike firmly under my belt. Regardless of what fate has in store for me, I'll do my best to be the wise, ever resourceful, creative, fun and loving uncle they both deserve. He also produced whoever came up with the game which has helped me get through the profoundly long and lonely Summer.

Yes, folks. Who would have thought that I, a man who detests games of pure random luck, would grudgingly admit that I'm grateful for a game nearly as mindless as Bingo or a slot machine? I'm talking about:
www.dragontavern.com
for those foolish or profoundly bored enough to follow in my digital footsteps. Basically, you create a character and use your daily allotment of action points to send him or her on completely random adventures where you have absolutely no control over the outcome. The only things you decide are the level of risk, how best to invest resources and skill points as well as when to use an action point to return to the tavern in order to sell loot and heal up. Essentially, taking away the fantasy trappings, you're left with a glorified game of Chicken. Whenever my creative engine stalls for lack of live experience upon which to draw, I've turned to this pastime. My main character Eldrex is a warrior slowly approaching level 40 who I sadly sent into danger once too often earlier today and died as a result. Fortunately for him and me, that merely accrues a fairly hefty debt of experience to be painfully paid off over the next couple of days worth of mindless fun. All the investments of equipment, skill points, and dearly bought advantages are safe and secure. Thorebar, my "hard core" character, has gone and snuffed it countless times since his original creation. I keep thinking he's ready for one too many risks and get him killed off yet again. He has to start from scratch every time. It's a pure ego thing but I keep starting him over for the pure random heck of it. He gets fifty action points per day. Combined with my main character's twenty-five action points, this forms a healthy daily dose of nearly brainless chance-driven chaos. I hereby swear by the two hapless six-sided dice which have resided in my desk drawer for well over a decade, that I'll make a grand thing of these two digital beings. They will stand shoulder to shoulder as testament to society's unswerving ability to waste the time, love, and talents of a man who still remains eager for more of what life has to offer. Let those numbers, hidden away in an obscure, inanely simple but nonetheless addictive game, be the extent of my virtual vengeance for reducing me to such a stupendous low point over these five months. I suppose I may as well go and attempt to reincarnate poor dead Thorebar and begin his journey to hard core glory once more. I have nothing better to do.

Fortunately, this Sunday after church is looking less dull than usual. I'll be going with Joseph to Tucker's Marketplace for a lunch. I believe other people are going as well but am not certain of that. After that, it looks like the church is having its first games night from mid afternoon to early evening. Perhaps, I can attend that also. Weekends have been quite good lately. I just need to fill up the weeks. A trip or two to Symposium will help a little, but you'd really think there would be more scope for at least social action or volunteering if not actual employment for someone like me. A lot of folks are praying and rooting for me online. I literally find myself hoping to God that it does some real-world good. I've done absolutely everything I can think of now. If more inspirations come my way, I'll certainly entertain them. However, my future truly rests in his hands. There's a certain relief in that but also a tremendous frustration.