A cheeseburger before dinner can help keep your appetite at bay.

My friend Gine gave me another Buddhist-themed necklace.  She said: Either wear this or throw it out. 
I guess that is her version of nonattachment.  She is fleeting softness.  She is also 81 yrs old & recently(I believe partly to show up me & her husband ;o)turned cartwheels the length of her hall.  This lasting ability may be partly due to her dance background, But Still.

I stopped to talk to one of the local homeless men I'd befriended years ago.  He'd been invisible of late & seeing him, at first, was bittersweet.  I'd not run into him for so long that I'd hoped he'd agreed to housing & was living(I guess what I'd deem) a better life.

Whenever Gine gives me some cast off from her husband for him it looks suspiciously new & expensive..but his things get very worn quickly by a life mostly out-of-doors.  

Judging by the container nearby he was on the tail end of a large McDonald's burger.  But wait.  He was looking awful spiffy.  I complemented him on his attire & sniff sniff his cologne too. 

I've long known that he likes to function with absolute minimal intervention so I was surprised when he said he took a man up on the offer of a shower, haircut, & outfit.  His benefactor did not spare any effort.  He looked the best I've ever seen him. 

His features were crinkled up into a smile but once he started talking to me there was worry in his eyes.  He was going to dinner at his brother's home.  In the distant past I've met the brother several times; each time I talk to his brother I grow inestimably tired.  Their relationship is somewhat tortured.  There are untapped reservoirs of major history that always look ready to blow.  I'll admit to siding with my homeless friend over his(it appeared to me) rigid brother years back, but over time I've reverted to listening hard or soft, depending on what I feel he needs at the moment(like I'll ever really know).  I try not to sell too much air & sunbeams. 

He said he was very surprised  last week to have his brother stop the car & look so happy to see him.  He accepted a dinner invitation because he misses his nephew.  He said he didn't like his fancy outfit(I'm not so sure; I felt I detected a little pride) or the cologne, & he wasn't very hungry for the burger, but he didn't want to look hungry when he got to his brother's house this evening.  He wanted to look good & he wanted them to know he was taking care of himself.  He did not need anything from them except for company & a visit with his nephew.  He wanted his nephew to think he was doing well. 

I was a touch stung by the truth of it, but his eyes did look a little less worried once he got it all out. He jokingly said: Group hug(he knows I find them an assault, usually). Very uncharacteristically, I hugged & kissed him.  

I bought some flowers for him to take to his sister-in-law.  I bought myself flowers too(Rod, you mentioned giving yourself a break. I also gave myself some flowers. Point taken.). 

Suddenly, I was in a very good mood.  Usually I have to pull each word up out of this guy, & even then they are a tangle in his throat. ..but now I couldn't get him to shut up.  He made my day. 

I'm impressed(& grateful) that my friends & loved ones can look upon my being ridiculous with kindness.

Favorite thing I've heard in Manhattan lately: He says I am arrogant, privileged, & bored, but truthfully, I'm not bored except when I'm around him.


Sometimes I do not allow myself to feel past my trigger words to the gentle meaning of the speaker(or writer).

I asked the friends I have IRL who have been commenting on my blog to email their comments to me instead. I very much appreciate their support, but I'll feel just as supported if they contact me privately.  I'd actually considered asking this before, but hesitated because I didn't want to appear fragile or precious to(some of) the people who pulled me into their orbit when I needed it most.

Maybe once or twice I have interpreted a friend  or a loved one's advice or opposition as an assault on my self-government, & then picked up my shield, but I do get over it & apologise. I can get a little defensive~ & I hate discussing defensiveness, lest I seem too well informed~ when I assume that someone who cares for me is thinking of how I was at my worst & worrying that they should step in before whatever horrible thing could happen. I have also a few times wrongly assumed that my judgments were devalued by my friends because of my diagnosis. They are looking at me with affection & concern & I, with chin thrust up, say something (exactly) like: I am quite capable of making decisions independent of your oversight. And they are thinking: Bitch please, you were intermittently psychotic for years, gave away a 300 thousand dollar house & 97% of your belongings.... With this background, I knew at least 2 of them would think I was hurt or offended by something they wrote in a comment on my blog. 

And so

Two of them said the exact same thing: Was it something I wrote? I know it was something I wrote... Damn, I thought schizophrenics were paranoid ;O. I do enjoy a lively exchange of opinions or I wouldn't read so many liberal blogs. I once slogged through what was essentially an ode to Allen Ginsberg. *Cough* I promise to never make any of you sit through a post about my admiration for Henry Kissinger. And howl if you will, I like the guy.

I'm not seeking to verify my existing beliefs since I work a little tuck or nip into those beliefs daily.  Actually, because of the insight I have into my illness now I am more likely to take the advice of those who care about me(except when I'm not), since their reality is at times more concrete than mine.  I appreciate good counsel. I also greatly appreciate being loved by my IRL friends for the person I am now. They nearly always offer a firm but gentle hand when I am on a narrow, shaky ledge.  The only person still (sometimes)trying to get the Before Mary back is me.  I am accepted & loved, just as I am, & I could not be more grateful to them. Except for when I don't act grateful at all, & I am sorry about that. I'm going for somber & contrite here. How am I doing?

As Amelia(Chicklet/Amy from my AOL blog), with the clarity of voice of a sage,says:  I only tell you these things for your own good.

She is almost 22.  Can you stand it? ;o  I love her.

Now for something that definitely falls into the category of: traits that I find attractive in myself yet unappealing in others.  I love when someone I care about promptly responds to a How are you? call I place because I am concerned about them..if I don't get a prompt response & I have even the slightest(perhaps unfounded)concern, I will quickly contact again..like I just did with my dad's god-daughter Helen.  She is an international airline attendant & is probably seeing a few sights in Europe between flights~Wine with American expatriates in Paris or perhaps some alone-time with her Italian boyfriend?~ but I got concerned & tried to chase her down. 

Damn, do I hate it when anyone does that to me. I'm all: Your Concerns Are So Misplaced....can you give me a few days to return the call without dogging me? This recently happened & I wish I could take it back.  Luckily, my friends are forgiving people. 

But,hmmm... isn't that what I just did to Helen? No, see, it is so different when I do it.  No, it isn't.




Do you share your blog with your friends & loved ones? If not, why not?

You are (not so) cordially invited to attend your own Life.

I'm paraphrasing but basically Lev thinks I have some probationary period during which I will assess his perceptions & competency to determine whether or not I want to go forward with this experimental 2 person support group/friendship.   I waved that assumption off as nonsense.  But, of course, he is right (like he isn't doing any of that).  I mentioned some unacknowledged sexual tension on his part.  He looked incredulous.  But, of course, I am right(as if sexual tension is totally foreign to me). 

So much for the unedited honesty we had promised each other. Habits of mind. We are imposing too many difficulties on the process, but we are learning interesting things too.  Working on lives fully lived with less. Not otherwise abled or any of those hokey, bs, feel-good misnomers.  Manfred's Dad, Heinz(a retired psychiatrist) says we are making challenging & important mistakes.  Don't get caught up in  overthinking it.  Oh, yeah, that.  I'm trying not to. Lev is much better at that part than I am.  Without a doubt it is easier to rise above certain indignities with someone who has experienced(many times) almost exactly the same principle of separate realities. 

Judging by Lev's nightwear, they still show Saturday Night Fever a lot in his country. He took me to Brighton Beach. So that's where all the gold lame went.  I can't say that I've missed it.  He came with me to Red Bank & he loved the Good Karma Cafe. We talked about fear & crown moldings.  We are working on this.




My dad passed away April 26, 2008.  I miss him terribly, but he left me with so many inexpressibly beautiful views of life... & his ears, I got the ears. I wanted the blond hair & blue eyes, but no, the ears.  Thanks Dad.  For so very much. ~Mary

Because not everyone wants to know if my heart is pulsing in my fingers(& I don't blame them)....

Some people who blog simply read off of their own comments. After you comment on their blog they visit you & comment on yours.  I was never fond of that method but for a few different reasons I believe I will begin to do basically the same(except for blogs I am very attached to).  The primary reason in my case is because many bloggers  are not looking to read about a full-on schizophrenic experience, they are reading & writing for fun(& profit in some cases).  I don't want anyone who may be uncomfortable with my content to feel like they have to read or comment because I've been visiting their blog. 

Next ;o...

As I mentioned in my last post the carpenter is very easy on the eyes, but I have a rather complicated relationship with my ex-bf, so I was noticing that Lev was hot, but not looking for a date. Can you imagine two paranoid schizophrenics in love? Honey, did you hear that noise? I think its aliens landing on the roof. No, babe.  It's the Bolsheviks. Hey, maybe its aliens & the Bolsheviks landing on the roof?!! 

No thanks.

Lev & I have tentatively started an experimental 2 person schizophrenic support group.  We discuss creative strategies for adapting & we reassure each other in low moments.  He doesn't have any friends in the US(except for Nursing Home Barbie who is his landlord), admittedly because he deliberately isolates himself most of the time...we'll see how it goes. He has enjoyed coming down to the shore. 

He is a nice man with maybe a few more problems that I have, but to my abject delight he likes to play the slow-witted moose immigrant with people who are condescendingly pleasant & LOUD with him.  My father, also an immigrant, made an art form of this when I was little.  The memories of it are nothing short of hilarious. 

Lev's told me he hopes to one day love & take care of someone who will love & take care of him in return, without feeling he is a burden who needs too much care because of his illness.  Ok, now there's a goal.  A goal I happen to share in relation to my ex-bf. 

We've both been asked(he says he has been asked this many times) if we feel schizophrenia has taught us patience & humility.  Let me answer for me: No.  While hard work & helping people less fortunate than myself have often planted seeds of humility & patience within me, schizophrenia has only left me feeling worthless, evil, monstrously insane & exhausted(thankfully those feelings mostly have abated now). 

 Patience & humility, unless you are Mother Teresa or Bruce Jenner, are real sporadic friends. 

In the 90s while meditating at a Buddhist retreat I heard 2 men, both diminutive(even that is charitable), self-proclaimed prodigies(why are those type of prodigies always underemployed? hmmmm), get into a one-upmanship over which of them meditated more appropriately.  I quietly decided that the one who shut up first would be the winner.  They didn't appear to feel that way; they were more of the never concede defeat school. The next day they were all Namaste & Namaste, complete with slight bow, in the morning. Cue Sitar music...

The only person I've ever met who is consistently humble & patient is my friend Maryann.  She is a social worker whose clients are exclusively the children of abuse & their family members.  To me she has the worst job of anyone I know, but to her she has the best job in the world.

Streaming live from the schizophrenic den camera is about as appealing to me as plier dentistry

I've been doing extraordinarily well, mostly.  Except when I think about Don & Manfred at the helm of recapturing my house or when Nursing Home Barbie mentioned introducing me to a "high functioning" schizophrenic. Mentally running & screaming in circles.  Unexpected nauseous humiliation.  Incensed adrenaline. Nit-comb sharp sensation of proximity. Then fake indifference.

Me: Oh, uhm, sure. Why not?

I'm ashamed to admit I'd thought he was one of Boss's starving artists.  No, he's the carpenter, & according to Barbie Boss loves his carpenter only mitely less than his Dobermans. I am to be nice to the carpenter. 

He has stern features but softening eyes.Tight smiles(on both of us).  Impressive stab at a Darwinian discussion considering the mispronunciations & broken English.  Azure eyes & great ass.  We spend some time with what I hear as herb bin mitts until, light bulb, urban myths. 

We are, at first, trying to slip through each others mental detectors without incident. Do you hear the wind shrieking your sins? Do rats..? Should we compare involuntary psych hospital stays? Do your unsolicited voices disseminate secret words of symbolism & danger? The burden of the answers keep us from the obvious questions. I'm almost never like this anymore.  Give me a bipolar person, a crying drug addict, a guy with a Madonna/whore complex or some dude who still wears his mother's clothes & I am jack fine with going in deep for the real.  But another schizophrenic throws all my switches.

Smile but it refuses to go all the way up to my eyes. Don't invite anything further.

I will not speak of fear or loss or desire with this person because even in his broken English(or because of it, a bit?), I can tell he is capable of resplendent non-clinical truths, & while I love that, have grown to need that, I do not, decidedly, fearfully, do not want to go into authentic late-onset(me)schizophrenic meets life-long(him)schizophrenic anaphylactic shock. 

2 of Lev's 3 fluent languages are Italian & French but he doesn't know I can speak either of those(not perfectly but I get by).  Guarded & weary(I can tell he is too), I'll not inform him.  

I don't want to find out if all his inner TVs simultaneously display the very worst(or best, it blends for a while)of disreality in the ways that mine do. Even more so I do not want to discover how they stream differently, since my goal is to cut down on my repertory insanity routines, not add to.

So we continue to speak of myths, the Electric Room, Asselina & why I won't eat the lamb burger there.  Lev is a smart man but he brushes vegan away with an amused, indulgent smile. 

The not-talking-about-it dance gets exhausting so I tell him(giving in to Italian, much to his surprise)that since I am a late-onset schizophrenic~really not even truly schizophrenic, pause for my royal sniff here but with symptoms like it brought about from brain atrophy(big difference? NO.)we don't really have much in common. 

He looks very antsy, then starts to twist a button & blushes.

Lev:  Oh, oh, yes.  You are Italian, no?(& he seems damn glad to be speaking it) I had a different concern.  That we would be so alike that it would be frightening, no?

Me: Well.Yes.There.Is.That.Lev.

Lev:(big laughsparkly eyes) Do not worry,I will keep the worst things for later.  (Barbie) tells me you think with your heart & that you have cats(interesting combo reveal).  My cats do this also(pause)think with their hearts.  Do your cats talk to you as mine do to me?

I've already grown fond of Lev.

Oh yeah, the ex-bf reads this, so to be clear. I've already grown platonically fond of Lev.

Adapting for Suze

Suze gives writing "assignments" on her blog & though I love reading them I never participate. This Friday everyone at her place is doing a haiku on adaptability, but writing haiku makes my molars ache, so she gets this instead :).  And, yeah, I know it is not Friday.  I'm Italian.  I consider rules to be merely suggestions.


After the storm tide
You rebuild the sandcastle
differently

smaller Gothic towers
larger moat
hidden corners
Until the next tide

The happiness that turned
to sorrow
ends in understanding

It isn't the firmly-packed
Sandcastles of
Life
but the love, fragility & creativity
that are 
Inseparable
from Freedom
as the sand
melts
and disappears
into the 
(moment) sea.





Once you square with that
you can move on
to acknowledging

the Humanity

of the people
You like the very least


And then 
you can own 
your place
    
               in the world(temporarily).

Rather than socially inept seclusion, I've opted for socially inept inclusion & armless farm boys

Kar, the transgender young man I met who was displaced by Hurricane Sandy, is now working part-time for Boss.  A couple of people thought I'd help Kar for a while & then some deep dark thing would surface. Uhm, no.  His family won't take him in because they find 1000 things shameful & wrong about a(their words>) gay boy in a dress, not because he's done something horrific.  Anyway...

I mentioned some over identifying I was doing in the last post.  My kind of over identifying is child's play compared to the way Boss & PA are with Kar.  He is the little brother they never had, except both of them have little brothers.  Everything he talks about, that happened to them too when they were young. He asks a question & Boss says: Abuse our knowledge; we will help you. They have great patience & willingness to listen to him, followed by: Did you eat? Are you hungry? Do you have enough money? (being written into their wills cannot be far off)

Has anyone reading this ever had a boss ask them if they had enough money?  Not I.

Then the Armless Farm Boy went missing.


The talented Russ~ for everyone who used to read his Inner&Outer Demons blog,he is healthy & his career is going very well~is a friend I met through blogging who is much more than a blog friend to me.  Which is why I felt perfectly comfortable stealing some of his artwork to use as props in my exhibit. I mean I told him about it.  After the fact.

Wait, that looks kinda bad when I read it over(so I won't).

Where was I? Oh, yeah.

In a building with tons of security cameras someone took Russ's  Armless Farm Boy.

So I say I want to view the tapes. PA takes me aside: Listen, I stole the armless farm boy.  It spoke to me.  I don't want to explain further.  I'll pay for it.

I don't really like PA(I've been trying to..) & I didn't know what to say immediately to that, so I didn't say anything. I stood around ruminating.  10 minutes later Boss calls me into his office:  Please don't say anything to anyone but I took the armless farm boy.

Me: Oh, come on. Were you ever even a farm boy?(I have sort of figured out what happened)

Boss: No, but I was a girlie, hundred pound gay kid with a military dad, growing up in flyover country .   I'm very in touch with the point. The armless farm boy concept is genius. 

Me: I'll be right back.(I go get PA & bring him into Boss's office)Kar was really impressed with the sketch at the trial exhibit.  He took the armless farm boy, didn't he?

Now they are both frenetic, verbally stumbling over each other, telling me he didn't.

What actually happened it that Kar identified with the sketch, saw it as the ultimate in Not Fitting In & Boss told him he could take it~that no one would notice(uhm?).  Boss was going to tell me, didn't think it was a big deal, until, he says, "You freaked out."

Russ has always been very gentle with me when I've needed gentleness most. I think the sketch belongs with Kar.  We all have our moments of Armless Farm Boy in this life.  Kar more than most.



And last night: The joys of a dating life full of can-do alpha males.

There are many reasons I stopped the pursuit of the return of my home recently.  Yesterday I discovered that Don & Manfred have retained a lawyer to recover my home with or without my cooperation. 

Don:  You rarely do what we say(as if).  It is very frustrating. 
Manfred:  We love you.  We know you are angry but we have to do this.

I am not angry; I love them too.