Journal #5 - The Quiet

Life has been difficult as of late. Not just the past few months, but the past week specifically. And it sucks, cause, I can't really talk about it much. Even now I'm finding it difficult to find words to clear my head.

I've spent a lot of time with friends and family lately. I've remained open about disliking living alone and they've all done well in keeping me company, or at least talking to me when hanging out isn't possible. And it's comforting. Like most, I feel bad about needing the attention. I'm used to having dogs and a girlfriend at home, with just noise all around. Even if I'm woken up by barking, its a reminder the pups are around... Like I said, I feel bad about it, but they don't seem to mind. And another thing has kinda come about this I did not expect...

The more I'm open about life kinda sucking, the more other people are opening up. I don't know what it is, maybe its because I'm more vulnerable, they feel they can too; I don't know. But I have had more serious heart to hearts with several of my guy friends than I have in years. Maybe its just life sucks right now, for everyone. That's a depressing thought, ain't it?

But many people have opened up who have been relatively closed off before. We've been able to talk more and just unapologetically agree that "this part of my life sucks right now" and sit there and cheers over a beer.

Now, some of this stuff I know I just need to get through - I need to find a routine at the gym and stop just going here and there. Something I can stick to and prioritize. I am going to start regular over night stays at my mothers to keep her company and see my dogs. I need to start going to bed earlier, not rushing my mornings and being only half mentally available at work. I need to start writing regularly. My books and stories keep me sane and happy, or insane and happy... But either way, I'll be mentally clear-er.

I have a bit more I can't say to the public, but I sent it to someone via Google Hangouts, and accidentally vented that way. It helped my frustration a bit.

Cheers you goons. I appreciate your patience and support while I go through whatever these few months are.

2018 Journal #4- Walking barefoot

This evening my mind started to tick, tick, tick. I didn't like it, I couldn't concentrate properly. Typically when it ticks, I try to find distraction. I open up a browser and go to YouTube, Facebook, Imgur all in a row and then close it out unsure of what I want to do but clearly wanting to do something. It means something is bothering me. Or, more simply put, I want to write.
Instead, I elected to go for a walk. It's cleared my mind in the past and help me sort through my thoughts, and funnily enough the moment I stepped outside I knew I wanted to write a blog post. But, since I don't get many opportunities to walk barefoot outside I chose to walk first. I figured that it would help the tick, help the itch that my brain was doing.
Honestly, I didn't make it very far. Right now I'm just talking to my phone and allowing it to write the words while I walk toward the wash in front of my dad's neighborhood to feel the soft, wet grass underneath my feet.
Everyone from Arizona should understand that walking barefoot isn't commonplace here. The ground is always far too hot. Tonight it rained and I saw the opportunity. So why not take it?
The grass felt nice by the way.
I've been in a learning type mood for the past day or so. Daniel turned me on to it, we went to the mall and he bought a book related to accounting and stocks. I purchased a book for the third time called Think and Get Rich by Napoleon Hill. First time I'm reading it though, I attempted to consume it two other times: the first time the book was long and thin, graphic novel like, and I really couldn't take it seriously because of that fact alone. The second time I got it on Audible and listening to someone on the subject matter seems contradictory in a weird sort of way.
This time however it is book shaped and I am enjoying it. I left it at work though, which of course means I want to read it.

Changing subject matters entirely, I went to the gym twice last week, prevented drinking soda four of those days. Not a complete success, but keeping track is more important right now I think.
The weekend was fun and full of cheat days. But that's how I see them and I fully intend to be more healthy this week.
I continue to write regularly. I finished a third short story in a series I call "A Deal is a Deal." The other thing I've been writing is a Harry Potter fanfic. Truly it's a lot of fun doing the research. I'mm writing it with purpose and for someone specific.
I feel better. I'm going to read the fun book I've been reading now, and may call it a night early.
Thank you for reading.

2018 Journal #3

I've been feeling rather good this past week or two. I almost didn't write this blog because of it. I figured, though, that one of the reasons I was feeling better was because of this blog. So here I am. I can also attribute my good feels to several friends who are keeping in touch, keeping me accountable.

Speaking of which, I went to the gym twice this week. I also helped a pair of friends move, which was a workout. Their couches were fucking heavy. 

Back to accountability, I am using a calendar markerboard I have in order to keep myself aware of my successes. If you can't see it properly, I am making an "X" every time I go the gym, and a SQUARE when I'm not drinking soda.

Saturday has been updated with an "X" as well. I definitely had soda at my friends house (they provided pizza and soda as payment for helping them move.)

The other thing I've been doing is getting back into the kitchen. I love cooking. It is a frustrating endeavor at my dads house (utensils are rather random here), but the reward is fantastic. Living with my dad and seeing him and his lady's surprise is always amusing as they look and go, "You're cooking again! What are you making?" 

I still did slip and go to Taco Bell on Friday, I didn't prep a lunch for work, so when lunch came around I went through the drive thru.

This next week my little brother Chase is staying with us. Kristi suggested He and I go to the gym when he's here. He thought it was a good idea too, so we're going to go to the gym throughout the week, and we are going to juice some fruit and cook some more food. I'm trying to be a good influence while I live here. He's fourteen and plays a lot of video games, but has so far enjoyed everything we've been doing when he's staying with our pop.

I'm going to go write some more, but on a story.
Yes, I've been doing quite a bit of that too. It's EXCITING.

I'll post some more of that later.
Toodles.

2018 Journal #2 - I had a clever title for this

This week I am not at work. Instead, my job has paid for me to go to a training program to learn the program SolidWorks. A 3d CAD program tool. The initial idea was to send me to learn about their Enterprise Product Data Management (EDPM), so I can assist our engineers when they lose connectivity to the thing. However, the person we e-mailed suggested I take the Essentials course first. My department agreed, so here I am, learning about a program I'll never use.

I'm not saying it isn't interesting, a lot of it is – but it just isn't essential to my job. The next course (which is all about EDPM) is some time in August.

The few things I have gathered while sitting at a desk is a few connections. People who know how to upgrade the software and the backend (Server, licenses, etc), and the need to write.

Boy, the need to write has bubbled up during this class. Several story ideas along with several “itches” for current stories are around. I've made a few notes on my phone throughout the class, but not many. I dare not open my laptop, cause there is a lot of material and I am taking the learning seriously.

I haven't been eating properly recently. My schedule had changed to an hour later due to the training. So I would sleep in, get up too late for breakfast, and race to training. Training provides lunch, and then I'd head home. Well, I haven't been grocery shopping lately, so the food available at the house is minimal. So I'd look in the fridge and pantry multiple times until it's too late to eat, then head to bed. Rinse, repeat for the past three days.

Truth be told I didn't think this was a big deal until I said it aloud to my friend and brother. They kinda shook their head and told me I should be eating.

Don't worry, I am going grocery shopping tonight with the intention of dirty-ing up the kitchen with juicer, blender, and pans.

I've decided to head to the gym every day after work (after training) until it becomes habit. Even if it means only saying hi to the receptionist.

Cause it is a habit I need to form.

--Shepsus

2018 Journal #1

So, without going into too much detail, 2018 has been an odd sort of hell on my mental health. My mind kind of splintered in the first three months and I was lost. I started drinking a bit too much, I stopped exercising, and I stopped (for the most part) writing. 
I felt as if I was two people: An "old" version of me who was jealous, selfish, manipulative, and materialistic... And the "current" version of me who I have been for several years: confident, caring, and kind. Those two Brandon's argued constantly in my brain. It was loud and distracting and I couldn't really pay attention to the world around me. I grew frustrated at small situations, didn't want to interact in public, and also hated being at home. My therapeutic hobbies became too much effort and I backed away from everything in order to try and shield my fractured brain.

Fortunately, I am fixing myself. I'm in control over my drinking habits, started at a new gym, and, thanks to Kristi, started writing again.

There is still a lot to work on, though. Still a lot of these little "Will Power" things that cause me stress. Though my boss doesn't care, it really bothers me that I am walking into work at 7:07 a.m. instead of clocking in at 7. It's only a 10 minute difference, but why am I consistently 5-10 minutes late? It's ridiculous. 
I am not heading to the gym as consistently as I need to. I can't blame it on sleep, or being hungry, or not having gym clothes... because those are all things under my control. I am just being lazy about it. I've been twice in two weeks, and that will not form a habit. And I need it to be a habit.
I need to edit my gaming videos. My friends and I have made a few fun videos in relating to Gaming. It took me a little more than two years to actually be brave enough to schedule them and get them in the chairs, it was SO much fun. They enjoyed it too, and as they left, Daniel asked, "So, same time next week?" Anyway, the issue is I now have about 200Gigs worth of video to put together and edit, and I haven't yet. Minecraft and DOOM and other video games have gotten in the way. If I could start the editing, I would enjoy it. But I need to fucking edit it for them to see the product.

I used to follow this philosophic idea "Do something today that will make tomorrow you proud." It helped me a lot, cause I could picture tomorrow me as a separate person, as a friend, and make them proud. "Sore muscles will make you happier tomorrow Brandon, Go to the gym today" type of thing. I dropped that philosophy even before the start of 2018, because I had someone else to rely on, someone else to make proud, now I don't.
I'm going to start trying to treat my "tomorrow me" as a friend again and treat him the way he needs to be treated. He needs healthier foods, needs exercise, and he needs writing for his mental health. Starting with these journals.

Thank you for reading.
Shepsus

Twirl on the dance floor

It's weird to post when you expect no one to read it. And weirder still when someone does. It's sweet, in a way, because the universe was listening. Because of that, the acquaintance became a good friend. Can't be mad about that.

It's also weird to freak out about my own posts to the point of deleting them. I've never had that before.

So here is a post, a regular post, now that I'm not so... Emotional.

Tonight I had dinner with the family. Afterwards, I followed my dad, Trish, my sister Tiff, and John out to a bar. I was a tad behind them, wanting to chill with my brothers and Katie. When I arrived, I was met with a beer and a Jager bomb. So I did the Jager bomb and sipped the beer. I didn't need anything else. So I talked when the room was quiet enough and otherwise listened to the country music and watched the people move on the dance floor.

I get great enjoyment watching people dance. The crowd slowly spinning itself in a circle like a whirlpool; couples dancing, spinning independently within the whirlpool itself, laughing and loving each other and the music.

Mostly I love seeing the mistakes. Not for any rude reason, but the mistakes make the couple laugh, one seems embarrassed and the other is trying to comfort, all while sticking to the tempo and keeping their place in the whirlpool. It makes the whole metaphor of the beautiful whrilpool and perfect spinning fall apart, really. Cause at that moment they are people, they are flawed, but that doesn't mean they aren't having a grand ol time.

I dunno, it makes dancing less scary. That mistakes can happen and still be enjoyed. That learning is easy, cause secretly everyone in the bar is probably learning. It just reminds me that perception is still mostly in your head. Getting passed embarrassed is really getting passed yourself.

And that I can handle.

Also, I ran my best mile today than I have in three years. I'm feeling pumped.

Chapter 2: The staff is everything.

Hodger awoke the next morning, eyes squinting at the sunlight coming through the window. He rolled over and then screamed, scrambling to put many pillows between him and the nearby chair.

“Good morning,” The chicken said, sitting in the chair, turning the page of the morning paper.

“What are you doing here?” Hodger said, “You got your night of sleep! Now go get roasted like decent poultry.”

The chicken folded the paper closed and set it aside, “That’s exactly why I am here. I know you’re not a Gnome, but you seem to have the uncanny ability to convince people otherwise. I, on the other hand, am an intelligent bird that can’t seem to get anyone to see me more than food, and I need some body’s help.”

“You need my help?” Hodger asked.

“Just to find someone here in Squaddlewog. Then I’ll leave you alone.”

“What’s in it for me?”

The chicken’s eyes turned back to the paper, “I said, I’ll leave you be. Otherwise I will find someone here to kill the evil Gnome lurking within the city.”

Hodger grabbed his candlewax staff and lit it with a lighter up his sleeve and pointed it toward the chicken, “What if I just roast you now and save you from speaking more about Gnomes.

The chicken looked at Hodger, and then at the staff. The chicken then blew out the candle. He turned back to his paper.

Hodger leaned back onto the bed defeated, “What is your name? It isn’t just ‘Chicken’, is it?”

“I am a studious chicken, that’s all you need to know.”

“Then I’ll just call you Stu.”

“Stu!” The chicken exclaimed, “What a preposterous name!”

Just then the door opened, and the smell of coffee and fried eggs came through the door. A young boy followed shortly after, pulling in a tray. He turned to the two guests and put his arms at his sides. He had dirty blonde hair in a bowl cut. His hair hung a little lower in the front, partially covering his blue eyes. His height and stature he looked no more than sixteen. The boy put his arms on his sides and smiled, missing a front tooth in his grin.

Though Hodger’s stomach grumbled and his nose sniffed, Hodger’s eyes could only focus on the gold bangle that hung loosely on the young waiters left wrist. If Hodger got anything from his unknown father, it was the love of gold. Hodger never had the desire to horde it, like most dwarfs, but to use it to buy things like food and more food.

“—And how many sausages, sir?” the boy said, interrupting Hodger’s trance.

“H-how many you got?” Hodger asked.

“Thirty-seven, but that’s meant for all—“

“That’ll do.” Hodger said.

When a slight frown, the boy picked up the pot and set it on a nearby table.

“Anything else?” the boy asked.

Stu requested a small plate of bacon and potatoes, refraining from the eggs altogether. Hodger stood and grabbed the pot of sausages and started scooping them into his personal bag, and then requested more if more should be cooked.  The Gnome then helped himself to eggs, bacon, and chilled milk.

As the boy turned from them to start putting things back together, Hodger’s eyes went back to the golden bracelet. He reached for it, and as he grabbed it, a shock went through him and sent him into the bedframe.

The boy didn’t notice, but smelled burning Gnome in the air, and turned. He yelped and rushed to the Gnomes aid, pulling him free from the bedframe.

“I told Lucille not to make those eggs, they were spotted funny!” He said as he pulled the Gnome free. Hodger fell onto the bed.

Stu rolled his eyes at Hodger, then turned to the boy, eyeing the bracelet, “What is your name young man?”

“Ralph, or Ralphie Junior as my friends call me.” The boy said, dabbing the smoking Gnome with a wet rag from his belt.

“Ralph Jr., are you the son of the great Rudolph?” Stu asked, hopping from his chair to the bed.

“The Hero of NorthPost is my pops,” Ralphie said smiling, “Though he is retired.”

“What is the son of a hero doing here?” Stu asked. Hodger rolled over and silently paid attention to his food, begrudgingly avoiding his eggs to thwart suspicion.

“My dad said a powerful wizards come through inns,” He shrugged, “I figure I might as well make some money while I wait.”

“You seek a wizard? Whatever for?” The chicken walked over the bed to Hodger’s bag and picked up a sausage and started to nibble. Hodger audibly growled.

Ralphie didn’t seem to notice, “My sword is stuck in a chest. My father said that only someone with magical powers can get it out for me.”

Stu turned to the Gnome, and raised one of his chicken eyebrows, “Well, it just so happens we are powerful wizards.”

The Gnome went cold and attempted to protest, but choked on his food.

“He is?!” Ralphie said looking at Hodger, “Oh Mr. Wizard, I’d love for you to help!”

“We are.” Stu corrected, “And we’d be happy to help.”

Ralphie jumped up excitedly, “Yes! Thank you! Don’t-Don’t leave, I’ll be back in a half hour. I feel so silly now, I should have noticed his staff!”

--

“Why did you have to bring all of those sausages?” Stu asked as he and Hodger moved downstairs.

“Sausages don’t spoil. They are good for the road.” Hodger answered.

“You are a dolt. They do spoil.”

“Nonsense, they just turn into jerky. Everyone knows that.”

Stu was going to argue further, but decided seeing a sick Gnome would bring him far more amusement.

As they reached the base of the steps, both Ralphie and Lucille stood waiting. Ralphie smiled from ear to ear as the chicken hopped down the last step. Lucille also smiled, her teeth gleaming in the sunlight. She now wore goggles, the bright yellow eyes now contained. Even so, Hodger avoided looking at her altogether, as his wits told him to always fear demons. Instead, he looked at Ralphie, who now wore a wooden sword at his hip, his golden bangle hanging loosely on the wrist and rested on the pommel of the weapon. Hodger’s ears twitched upon the sight of the bangle, his left shrank and tilted forward while his right ear stretched and pointed outward. The Gnome shook his head and pulled on his ear.

“It looks like everybody’s here!” Lucille said. She picked up Stu and petted him. Stu was not amused.

Hodger nodded and walked in a wide circle around the new strangers paying him too much attention. He got to his exit, “Good day to you all,” he turned and quickly left.

He walked into the late morning air. Ralphie and Lucille followed him out.

“Where are you going?” Lucille said.

“Left.” Hodger said

“Straight to my house!” Ralphie said. “He’s definitely magical.”

“I, uh, meant right.”

“You said you’d help him.” Lucille said, petting Stu.

“I did not say I’d help him, Stu said he’d help him.”

“Who is Stu?” She asked.

Hodger pointed, “Stu’s the chicken.”

“That’s a silly name for a chicken.” Stu said.

“Actually, it works pretty well.” Lucille said, nodding.

Hodger turned toward Ralphie, whose face was full of utter defeat.

The Gnome looked down at his shoes and scratched his left foot with his right, “I-I-I am not the one you seek. I am a Gnome who seeks fortune, not adventure.”

Ralphie wiped his eyes, “If it is fortune you seek, my father has acquired a great wealth in his travels.

Lucille nodded, “No one is as rich as Rudolph the Great, only second to the king of Squaddlewog.”

Both ears perked up.

“D-d-does he have any of those bangles?”

Ralphie looked at his wrist, “Yeah, a lot of’em. This doesn’t do nothin’ though.”

Hodger twitched, “I sense great magic within it. It-it protects you.”

Ralphie raised an eyebrow, “Oh? I never noticed.”

Hodger twitched again, “I have. Th-that’s why I’m a great Gnome.”

Stu rolled his eyes. He then panicked as Lucille grabbed both of his legs tightly and lifted him into the air, turning him like a weather vane.

“Left?” Lucille said, pointing Stu in the proper direction.

Hodger nodded. Ralphie and Lucille took off in a run, Lucille refusing to lower Stu despite his demand otherwise. He flapped his wings in frustration. The Gnome took a match from his pouch and lit his candlewax staff and then walked forward after them.