Thursday, November 27, 2014
Another F'd up Thanksgiving
God, if you think this is funny, you are so fucked up. I don't know or care about the cosmic state of blahh blahh whatever. I can't pull out of my funk cuzz I have zero positivity. I spent the last day not enjoying fucking anything at all about this holiday. I remember the time 4 or 5 years ago when my wife came out to the kitchen for the last time under her own power. She heard me cooking and making turkey. There was Christian music playing. She screamed at me because she hates that crap. Can't blame her, but I was upset by her ranting. I don't know it may have been a different time, but we argued about giblets and she said she would never get out of bed again because of my making it unpleasant for her. I still think that is probably true. I would try my conjuring of light and love, but I have such negative thought processes going on that I am only capable of making negative statements. See? I could sure use some help. See, in the last couple of years my wife has come back from some crazy bitch land to being a very calm and understanding person. Much unlike what could be said for myself. I seem to do the opposite, and I rely on her to calm me down or give me insight into why I am so fucked up. But, then I always ignore all her advice and say "I can't, I'm too far gone.." I feel like I am out of options, I can't be around her, I bring her down. I can't not be around her, I need her spark (when I am not completely quenching it). She is completely bedridden and relies on me for everything. Almost. She can still put food in her mouth most days. I make her feel miserable and seeing her miserable makes me more miserable. I can't relate this to anyone, no one can stomach all my bitter pain. I am a coward and a rotten person. I don't think the cats are even very fond of me any more. They have seen too much of my rage. My uncle killed himself around this time 2 years ago. I said I would never do that, because I have people that count on me. Cats, dog, and my lovely wife. But they can't really stand me, so I'm not on such sure footing anymore. NSA are you listening? I guess I'm not important enough to spy on, really. So, another fucked up Thanksgiving, ruined by me. All my wife does is try to come up with positive things to keep me going. Like getting the house paid off or buying me little trinkets to put in a collectable case. I really ought to go thank her for that. But she wants me to leave her alone for at least an hour. I will say it one more time for old time's sake. Light and love, Boopie.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
conjuring required
light and love light and love light and love light and love
i love our happy life i love our happy life i love our happy life i love our happy life
Boopie and Eddie enjoying a moment.
i love our happy life i love our happy life i love our happy life i love our happy life
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Journal entry for February 27, 2014 (broad spectrum hate)
Sometimes
Most of the time
I am just not happy
But sometimes I am, I think,
Capable of hating everything
No boundary
No holding back
Other times I focus my hate on
Just one thing or person
And try to maintain the
Illusion that I'm
Well, not really happy,
But just not hating everything
Right now I'm
Hating most things
Most of the time
I am just not happy
But sometimes I am, I think,
Capable of hating everything
No boundary
No holding back
Other times I focus my hate on
Just one thing or person
And try to maintain the
Illusion that I'm
Well, not really happy,
But just not hating everything
Right now I'm
Hating most things
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Friday, January 10, 2014
RIP my dear friend
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
how do i stop the cycle?
i hate the endless cycle of being a jerk or a coward and then feeling regret and sadness. i live in my miserable head and am in constant fear or agitation. if i am passably un-jerkish for a day or part of a day, give me a few minutes and it will come back around. i hate my life. i am such a fuck. i thought it was my wife's fault, or her illness, but it only revealed what is in there by testing my limits. my limits are shit. i am shit. i have no heart or soul and am mostly negative. i don't even try to be positive. i just do what i can to function in life, but not very well. i have no friends. i alienate my sick wife daily. she tries to make me more positive and i just get mad and then we fight. i feel possessed. i feel reptilian. where's my humanity? what the fuck am i and how did i get this fucked up. i'm asking the universe to give me some answers. i fear i will go to my death a hollow, empty shell ready to be taken over by complete evil. i don't even know what i believe. it's all one? it's all good? yah, right. fuck that nonsense. i am hitler, i am antichrist. how fucked is that to feel? is that what you want, o, god? a little walk on the dark side? god, i hate this shit. give me light and love or snuff out my pathetic hateful soul. the void. endless darkness. nothing. come on, universe. respond.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
light and love--right now, people 4 ever
light and love. light and love. light and love. period for ever.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Friday, October 4, 2013
u know who u r
light and love
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Thursday, September 5, 2013
u know what
light and love, that's what
eat up
eat up
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Saturday, July 20, 2013
barely human
light and love
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Monday, June 3, 2013
last hope
light and love light and love light and love light and love light and love light and love light and love light and love
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
x100000000000000000000
Light and love
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
please help
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
it's only stupid if it doesn't work
light and love. peace. light and love. peace. light and love. peace. light and love. peace.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Is this thing on?
Light and love
Light and love
Light and love
Light and love
Light and love
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
She said I'm evil
But I won't give the archons the last word. Light and love. For Sharon. Light and love. Light and love. Light and love.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Light and Love for Sharon
the new year is off to a great start. i wish my wife, sharon, light and love. nothing but light and love. over and over and over.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Light and Love
LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE
LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE
LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE
LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE
LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE
LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE
LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE
LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE
LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE LIGHT AND LOVE
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Make it Work
Love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light love and light.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Saturday, December 1, 2012
To Blog or not to Blog
Love and light. Love and light. Love and light.
To My Wife,
Though I hurt you and can be a jerk at times, I wish you nothing but love and light. I can't respond in my normal way, as that is negative. I am raising my nature to a higher one, not dominated by fear or selfishness:
I will embrace all good things.
Everything is good, everything is perfect.
I cannot change what I don't first accept and acknowledge.
I will not tell my story. It is just drama.
I will awaken out of this illusion to the reality of love and oneness.
I will not be cynical or hateful or fearful.
I embrace all things.
I am master of my own destiny.
No fear shall rule me.
No hatred shall devour my energy.
I am free. I am love. I am light.
I wish my wife nothing but love and light. Love and light, joy and peace.
Wait a minute. Didn't I wish her joy the other day?. No, I said I AM peace and joy. And the next day, I said I would repay all acts with kindness.And she told me that in the middle of watching a TV show, for just a minute, she experienced a moment of pure joy. She told me this on Thursday night. Wow. That's great. I wish her that again times one thousand.
Come on!
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Results
Yesterday's positive affirmation seemed to work a little. I went home and put my intention on being nice and positive. It was recognized. Sure she had been having a crappy day, but it didn't linger into the night. I will say stuff like that every day if I can get those kind of results in my life. Here goes.
I am light and love. The light protects me, the light surrounds me. I fear no evil. I recognize only good. I am light and love. I bring light and love to others. I am a being of pure, unconditional love. I will remain positive and repay all acts towards me with kindness.
I am light and love. The light protects me, the light surrounds me. I fear no evil. I recognize only good. I am light and love. I bring light and love to others. I am a being of pure, unconditional love. I will remain positive and repay all acts towards me with kindness.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
My Wife's Blog
All I am going to post in response to my wife's recent blog activity is this.
Nothing but love. Pure unconditional love. Nothing but light and love. Pure light and love. I am not a puppet or a robot. I have free will. I am love and light. I am peace and joy. No doubts no negativity. Just love and light and peace and joy. Take that Archons!
Nothing but love. Pure unconditional love. Nothing but light and love. Pure light and love. I am not a puppet or a robot. I have free will. I am love and light. I am peace and joy. No doubts no negativity. Just love and light and peace and joy. Take that Archons!
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
The situation with Boopie
Don't know where to start. Only to say sorry in advance if this seems unpremeditated, and if I ramble, again, I apologize. So much bad has happened in the time since I last posted. I had many hopes and misconceptions at the time I wrote most of the stuff. Lots of emotions (mostly anger and hate) but also confusion and not a little bit of ego.
The situation with Boopie and her MS has only gotten worse since the last entry, and all the problems have magnified. Her physical disability (completely bedridden) is overshadowed even at times by the emotional instability. Hers and mine. I won't own all of it, but I will admit my own failings as a caregiver and a human being.
She cannot get out of bed even to use the commode by the bed. She is too weak. So she has to use diapers and bedpads, the details of which I won't go into, but it is a horrible situation for anyone to be in. What makes it unbearable, seemingly, for me, is the fact that she loses her temper with me for any imperfection in my behavior. I don't mean just saying mean things, but screaming and throwing things. There is no in between. She will want something done a certain way at a certain time, and it has to be that way, or she will throw (literally) a tantrum. If you've ever had a tantrum thrown at you, you know it isn't pleasant.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Near the end of my rope
Don't think it is going to benefit me to even start to try to explain what has been going on with me. Nothing good. Here's a list of things:
Anger management-fail
Caregiving with a good attitude-fail
Anything with a good attitude-fail
Being happy for even five minutes-fail
Work-fail
Spiritual improvement-fail
I have such a piss-poor attitude and am angry all the time. Except when I am about to go to bed after a drink or two. I only get along with my wife during the few moments when we are distracted by watching tv. I have such hostility when doing everything, I have to distract myself by listening to recordings of radio shows. I sometimes feel almost human when I am engrossed in such. But give me a minute or two with my thoughts and I am either angry or crying.. My mom and wife are now not talking due to arguments over posting personal crap on Facebook. I don't have much hope for anything anymore except the end of the world. That will likely disappoint, too. Ah, fuck it all. Now I see why I never come here....
Anger management-fail
Caregiving with a good attitude-fail
Anything with a good attitude-fail
Being happy for even five minutes-fail
Work-fail
Spiritual improvement-fail
I have such a piss-poor attitude and am angry all the time. Except when I am about to go to bed after a drink or two. I only get along with my wife during the few moments when we are distracted by watching tv. I have such hostility when doing everything, I have to distract myself by listening to recordings of radio shows. I sometimes feel almost human when I am engrossed in such. But give me a minute or two with my thoughts and I am either angry or crying.. My mom and wife are now not talking due to arguments over posting personal crap on Facebook. I don't have much hope for anything anymore except the end of the world. That will likely disappoint, too. Ah, fuck it all. Now I see why I never come here....
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Journal entry for September 1, 2012 (or thereabouts--My one decent argument)
I have only one thing to say in my defense: "You are always right."
(slam dunk)
(slam dunk)
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Journal entry for August 24, 2012 (the hotwire sensor and the snake)
The other day the hotwire light came on, indicating a problem with the fence grounding out. I headed out to check out the usual places where deer hit it and cause it to wrap around the barbwire at the top of the fence.
After going 3/4 of the way around the property and not finding any problems, I found myself on the west side by Jeff's garage. For an unknown reason, probably avoiding poison oak, I looked down and saw a black and yellow snake (long stripes, not bands).
I stopped and instinctively put my hand out to steady myself. Unfortunately, I put it out and grabbed the barbwire. When I pulled my hand back, I saw the hotwire was wrapped around it. I didn't doubt that I had just caused that to wrap around, since my hand was on both wires.
I continued to look for more problems after unhooking the wire, but found none. I plugged the box back in and the light stayed off. Yeah.
My wife says "there are no coincidences." What she really means is all there is are coincidences. Random, unconnected events occurring simultaneously. There is no divine plan is what she means. There is no conspiracy, no fate.
What really happened was that the sensor had an intermittent fault and the light was flashing/not flashing irrespective of the condition of the fence. When I put my hand down on the fence because of the snake, I caused the wire to be wrapped, creating a problem and fixing it. That the light stayed off was a coincidence.
After going 3/4 of the way around the property and not finding any problems, I found myself on the west side by Jeff's garage. For an unknown reason, probably avoiding poison oak, I looked down and saw a black and yellow snake (long stripes, not bands).
I stopped and instinctively put my hand out to steady myself. Unfortunately, I put it out and grabbed the barbwire. When I pulled my hand back, I saw the hotwire was wrapped around it. I didn't doubt that I had just caused that to wrap around, since my hand was on both wires.
I continued to look for more problems after unhooking the wire, but found none. I plugged the box back in and the light stayed off. Yeah.
My wife says "there are no coincidences." What she really means is all there is are coincidences. Random, unconnected events occurring simultaneously. There is no divine plan is what she means. There is no conspiracy, no fate.
What really happened was that the sensor had an intermittent fault and the light was flashing/not flashing irrespective of the condition of the fence. When I put my hand down on the fence because of the snake, I caused the wire to be wrapped, creating a problem and fixing it. That the light stayed off was a coincidence.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Journal entry for June 9, 2012 (more Magic 8 Ball questions)
Me: M8B, will to day be a good day?
M8: Cannot predict now.
Me: How about now?
M8: It is certain.
Me: That it will be a good day?
M8: It is certain.
Me: Will I be happy?
M8: YES, definitely.
Me: Will Boopie and I fight?
M8: YES, definitely.
Me: Are you fulla shit?
M8: Signs point to yes.
M8: Cannot predict now.
Me: How about now?
M8: It is certain.
Me: That it will be a good day?
M8: It is certain.
Me: Will I be happy?
M8: YES, definitely.
Me: Will Boopie and I fight?
M8: YES, definitely.
Me: Are you fulla shit?
M8: Signs point to yes.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Journal entry for June 8, 2012 (Magic Ball?)
Me: Magic 8 Ball, is tomorrow going to be fucked?
M8: Most likely..
Me: Are you for real?
M8: YES.
Me: I thought about something and asked "is it true?"
M8: As I see it, YES.
M8: Most likely..
Me: Are you for real?
M8: YES.
Me: I thought about something and asked "is it true?"
M8: As I see it, YES.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Journal entry for May 27, 2012 (Magic 8 Ball forecast)
Me: Is today going to be a good day?
8B: Outlook not so good.
Me: Magic 8 Ball, was I right and you were wrong? Today was a good day.
8B: It is decidedly so.
Me: Magic 8 Ball, am I going to die today?
8B: It is decidedly so.
Me: Am I really going to die? Can I trust you at all?
8B: My answer is NO.
8B: Outlook not so good.
Me: Magic 8 Ball, was I right and you were wrong? Today was a good day.
8B: It is decidedly so.
Me: Magic 8 Ball, am I going to die today?
8B: It is decidedly so.
Me: Am I really going to die? Can I trust you at all?
8B: My answer is NO.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Journal entry for May 26, 2012 (Magic 8 Ball sessions, continued)
Magic 8 Ball continued
Me: Magic 8 Ball, what's up?
8B: It is certain.
Me: Magic 8 Ball, are you for real, man?
8B: It is decidedly so.
Me: Magic 8 Ball, are you fulla shit?
8B: As I see it, yes.
Me: Is it because you are Maya?
8B: It is certain.
Me: Did I get that last one right?
8B: Outlook good.
Me: Are you feeding me a line?
8B: Reply hazy, try again.
Me: Are you feeding me a line?
8B: My reply is NO.
Me: Ok.
8B: Better not tell you now.
Me: Magic 8 Ball, what's up?
8B: It is certain.
Me: Magic 8 Ball, are you for real, man?
8B: It is decidedly so.
Me: Magic 8 Ball, are you fulla shit?
8B: As I see it, yes.
Me: Is it because you are Maya?
8B: It is certain.
Me: Did I get that last one right?
8B: Outlook good.
Me: Are you feeding me a line?
8B: Reply hazy, try again.
Me: Are you feeding me a line?
8B: My reply is NO.
Me: Ok.
8B: Better not tell you now.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Sunday, December 11, 2011
The Joke
Ha Ha Ha
God, you little devil
With all Your (our) Infinite Wisdom
You (we) decided to play
The ultimate trick
You fooled yourself into thinking
You (we) weren't God
Signed,
Andrew
Yeah, that's cool...
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Journal entry for October 30, 2011 (or thereabouts--towards a non-dual definition of good)
Is it all good? Really? No. But only because it is all good.
If all of this is an illusion and God is all that is "real" and God is love, then God, or Love, apparently has some pretty fucked up shit in His/Her/It's mind.
All I can say is it better be pretty peachy rainbow ice cream orgasm when we finish with this world and on to the next. Like when God's done playing with His toys, he better not leave them all disheveled and broken or we are going to need a new definition of good. Like "whatever the fuck God wants at any given time" is good.
Hence all this crap, which is obviously what He wants, because it "is."
Yeah.
If all of this is an illusion and God is all that is "real" and God is love, then God, or Love, apparently has some pretty fucked up shit in His/Her/It's mind.
All I can say is it better be pretty peachy rainbow ice cream orgasm when we finish with this world and on to the next. Like when God's done playing with His toys, he better not leave them all disheveled and broken or we are going to need a new definition of good. Like "whatever the fuck God wants at any given time" is good.
Hence all this crap, which is obviously what He wants, because it "is."
Yeah.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Journal entry for October 26, 2011 (spiritual teachers and a light bulb)
How many "spiritual teachers" does it take to screw in a light bulb?
Duh, there's only the One.
There is no light bulb--it's just an illusion.
No, really...How many?
NONE
Duh, there's only the One.
There is no light bulb--it's just an illusion.
No, really...How many?
NONE
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Journal entry for October 25, 2011 (I gave up on enlightenment)
I gave up seeking to go back to sleep, but I'm conscious of my unconsciousness. Since discovering that all is one and all that jazz I've kind of felt like "What's the point?"
Buddha says your already enlightened, you just don't realize it.
The Course in Miracles says it never even happened.
Hinduism says its all "Maya" (illusion) and "Lila," God's divine play.
Since we're all just acting out roles, it's not in the best interest of the play to pull back the curtain and reveal the mystery.
Let it play out.
However it will.
And for God's sake, enjoy yourself if at all possible.
Buddha says your already enlightened, you just don't realize it.
The Course in Miracles says it never even happened.
Hinduism says its all "Maya" (illusion) and "Lila," God's divine play.
Since we're all just acting out roles, it's not in the best interest of the play to pull back the curtain and reveal the mystery.
Let it play out.
However it will.
And for God's sake, enjoy yourself if at all possible.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Journal entry for September 4, 2011 (or thereabouts--meditating with a hungry cat)
I like to eat yogurt, peanut butter, almonds and grapes. In a little bowl at about 11:30 or 12 at night. After I go to sleep and then wake up to pee. It is "my quiet time" to meditate. I will finish my snack and then pet the cat, if she shows up. I try different chants, like "ohm" and such to quiet my mind.
I won't lie. Sometimes I get mad at the cat for fidgeting when I'm eating my yogurt. Sometimes she tries to knock the bowl out of my hand. Only occasionally will I get to eat in peace and then do my meditating. The cat will go from fidgeting to purring and all is ok. I never get very far into any sort of "state" other than I could fall back asleep.
Tonight she pissed me off, though, and I couldn't eat without throwing her off. She got pissed, too, and wouldn't come back. So even though I have lit candles and supposedly am getting over my anger problem by meditating, guess what? I'm a big spoiled "meditating" angry brat!
I hate this! Is this funny if God cannot meditate on God because he is angry with a little cat for wanting to fidget and steal his yogurt? Yes, actually...
I won't lie. Sometimes I get mad at the cat for fidgeting when I'm eating my yogurt. Sometimes she tries to knock the bowl out of my hand. Only occasionally will I get to eat in peace and then do my meditating. The cat will go from fidgeting to purring and all is ok. I never get very far into any sort of "state" other than I could fall back asleep.
Tonight she pissed me off, though, and I couldn't eat without throwing her off. She got pissed, too, and wouldn't come back. So even though I have lit candles and supposedly am getting over my anger problem by meditating, guess what? I'm a big spoiled "meditating" angry brat!
I hate this! Is this funny if God cannot meditate on God because he is angry with a little cat for wanting to fidget and steal his yogurt? Yes, actually...
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Monday, August 15, 2011
Journal entry for August 15, 2011 (Sharon's birthday, excuses and a late family therapist)
Yesterday was Sharon's birthday. I got her a pizza and a birthday cake with candles, and did the silly singing. While that was nice, she still did not get her birthday wish, which was to get out of her bed and go into the kitchen, even if only for a 10 minutes.
The fact is that we can't get her into her wheelchair without a Hoyer lift or we risk injury and falling. The lift barely fits in the room and is difficult to maneuver on the carpet. We have never tried this procedure and it must be executed perfectly or the pain of having her feet down too long will make it not worthwhile.
"Blah, blah, blah--excuses!" I can hear her thinking. She has not been out of that room (except to go to the ER) since Feb 14. Before that it was Christmas.
So, how do I feel right now, as I sit in front of my family counselor's office, waiting 20 minutes after our appointment time, to see if she will even show up or call? Um, really, not too bad. Other people can screw up too. And other people have waited longer than me for something that didn't happen.
My wife is at home, hopefully sleeping away this afternoon's grumpiness with me. I will now drive to Oroville and pick up the food she wanted, from the restaurant she likes, and this evening will hopefully be less stressful.
Sure, I have my ups and downs. Mostly, the downs are how I perceive it. It could be worse.
The fact is that we can't get her into her wheelchair without a Hoyer lift or we risk injury and falling. The lift barely fits in the room and is difficult to maneuver on the carpet. We have never tried this procedure and it must be executed perfectly or the pain of having her feet down too long will make it not worthwhile.
"Blah, blah, blah--excuses!" I can hear her thinking. She has not been out of that room (except to go to the ER) since Feb 14. Before that it was Christmas.
So, how do I feel right now, as I sit in front of my family counselor's office, waiting 20 minutes after our appointment time, to see if she will even show up or call? Um, really, not too bad. Other people can screw up too. And other people have waited longer than me for something that didn't happen.
My wife is at home, hopefully sleeping away this afternoon's grumpiness with me. I will now drive to Oroville and pick up the food she wanted, from the restaurant she likes, and this evening will hopefully be less stressful.
Sure, I have my ups and downs. Mostly, the downs are how I perceive it. It could be worse.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Journal entry for August 9, 2011 (repetitive)
I don't know how long I can keep up this journaling. It is monotonous to keep writing "I lost my temper again" and the stupid reason for it.
Sharon has been back from the hospital for a few days but is still feeling bad. She is losing her ability to be positive, and I have already lost mine. Seems like we get mad at each other now over nothing.
Sharon has been back from the hospital for a few days but is still feeling bad. She is losing her ability to be positive, and I have already lost mine. Seems like we get mad at each other now over nothing.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Friday, August 5, 2011
Journal entry for August 5, 2011 (Sharon and the ER)
Sharon went to the ER on Tuesday for abdominal pain.
We were there for 13 hours trying to get answers. C-T scan, chest X-ray, blood and urine tests. The only conclusion was that she was dehydrated and had a bladder infection. Duh.Fremont-Rideout sucks. Their computers were down and the ball was dropped numerous times, so we waited 3 hours between tests while the left hand tried to figure out if it was a left hand or not.
Deep thoughts? I am not mad about the poop anymore. I think that a routine, no matter how monotonous, will be missed when it is gone. I just think about all that Sharon has gone through these last 3 years and I feel so sad for her.
Now she's in a hospital room, and I'm sure she's missing being at home with her cats, her computer and her TV. It's not much, but it's all she's got. And being in a hospital with incompetent fools looking after you is no fun.
We were there for 13 hours trying to get answers. C-T scan, chest X-ray, blood and urine tests. The only conclusion was that she was dehydrated and had a bladder infection. Duh.Fremont-Rideout sucks. Their computers were down and the ball was dropped numerous times, so we waited 3 hours between tests while the left hand tried to figure out if it was a left hand or not.
Deep thoughts? I am not mad about the poop anymore. I think that a routine, no matter how monotonous, will be missed when it is gone. I just think about all that Sharon has gone through these last 3 years and I feel so sad for her.
Now she's in a hospital room, and I'm sure she's missing being at home with her cats, her computer and her TV. It's not much, but it's all she's got. And being in a hospital with incompetent fools looking after you is no fun.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Journal entry for August 2, 2011 (Pissed)
Me and God ain't talkin'. (again)
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Monday, August 1, 2011
Journal entry for August 1, 2011 (Having a shitty day? Meditate...yeah, right)
So, today started with trying to collect a urine sample to take to Quest Diagnostics to prove whether or not my wife's stinky pee and incontinence are due to a bladder infection.
During the collecting of it, she didn't have to go, but she did have to poop, which she did. We managed to get a small sample, which I took. Lots of poop cleaning was required because she was sitting on it and it was messy. I took the sample and also went shopping.
When I got back, I found she had pooped more and once again was sitting in it, this time for 4 hours. I didn't pitch a fit, but I was nonetheless not happy either time. She cried the second time around because the poop was everywhere and it hurt when I had to go and wipe it from every crevice.
Needless, to say I am disillusioned again with God and my reality (and hers) and wish to exchange it for another.
(later)
Afterward, thinking "I have finally gotten through this fucked up day--now I can meditate," it was 1:30 AM. In the middle of my meditation a cat acted startled. I ignored it, or tried to. One half hour later, as I took off the headphones and climbed the stairs, I was hearing the shrieks of my wife. "Andrew! Andrew!"
She had thrown up on her gown and on the sheets, requiring both to be changed.
Apparently, my whole meditation is one big Ego Trip anyway, because I was--guess, what--rattled and upset. It is now 2:30 AM and I am--guess, what--MAD! I can't get a break, but no matter, my wife has me beat. She is the real sufferer. I am just a whiny brat. Great.
During the collecting of it, she didn't have to go, but she did have to poop, which she did. We managed to get a small sample, which I took. Lots of poop cleaning was required because she was sitting on it and it was messy. I took the sample and also went shopping.
When I got back, I found she had pooped more and once again was sitting in it, this time for 4 hours. I didn't pitch a fit, but I was nonetheless not happy either time. She cried the second time around because the poop was everywhere and it hurt when I had to go and wipe it from every crevice.
Needless, to say I am disillusioned again with God and my reality (and hers) and wish to exchange it for another.
(later)
Afterward, thinking "I have finally gotten through this fucked up day--now I can meditate," it was 1:30 AM. In the middle of my meditation a cat acted startled. I ignored it, or tried to. One half hour later, as I took off the headphones and climbed the stairs, I was hearing the shrieks of my wife. "Andrew! Andrew!"
She had thrown up on her gown and on the sheets, requiring both to be changed.
Apparently, my whole meditation is one big Ego Trip anyway, because I was--guess, what--rattled and upset. It is now 2:30 AM and I am--guess, what--MAD! I can't get a break, but no matter, my wife has me beat. She is the real sufferer. I am just a whiny brat. Great.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Journal entry for July 31, 2011 (My Facebook Ego and the AC control panel)
A couple of days ago, in the midst of feeling beat down and unimportant, a friend from 30 years ago contacted me on Facebook. What a trip. They put pictures up that included some old ones of my days as a punk in Anaheim. I suddenly felt like I was somebody again.
I don't know if that's a good thing or not. Aren't we trying to get rid of the ego? Regardless of who is me, the me that remembered being me back in the '80s got quite a charge out of seeing pictures that reminded me that I was somebody.
Ok, here's an example of how negative thinking doesn't always pan out (or even match reality). Our power went out the other day leaving Sharon without A/C for half a day. The power was only out for an hour or so, but the thermostat go reset to the factory default setting of 80 degrees when the power came back on.
Sharon wanted me to "take the thermostat off the wall" so I could look at the model number and she could research it online. I felt resistant to the idea of "taking it off the wall," having a fear of breaking it and not knowing how it was mounted, etc.
When I finally went to attempt it, I found that there was a front cover that comes off, and there were 2 ancient batteries in there. I replaced the batteries, and now when the power goes off (we tested it), the A/C comes right back on at the prior settings.
See?
I don't know if that's a good thing or not. Aren't we trying to get rid of the ego? Regardless of who is me, the me that remembered being me back in the '80s got quite a charge out of seeing pictures that reminded me that I was somebody.
Ok, here's an example of how negative thinking doesn't always pan out (or even match reality). Our power went out the other day leaving Sharon without A/C for half a day. The power was only out for an hour or so, but the thermostat go reset to the factory default setting of 80 degrees when the power came back on.
Sharon wanted me to "take the thermostat off the wall" so I could look at the model number and she could research it online. I felt resistant to the idea of "taking it off the wall," having a fear of breaking it and not knowing how it was mounted, etc.
When I finally went to attempt it, I found that there was a front cover that comes off, and there were 2 ancient batteries in there. I replaced the batteries, and now when the power goes off (we tested it), the A/C comes right back on at the prior settings.
See?
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Friday, July 29, 2011
Journal entry for July 29, 2011 (Binaural beats and Dennis, the tool guy)
Binaural beats. A meditation tool utilizing different frequency audio tones in the two separate hemispheres of the brain via stereo headphone input. I tried. It works. It can be scary. Just make sure your Ipod isn't on shuffle or you may get a rude awakening.
Also, yesterday Dennis warrantied an SK tool of mine and promised to look into a couple more. Lesson: Give and you will receive. Forgive and you will be forgiven. But don't do it just for those reasons. Just do it.
Also, yesterday Dennis warrantied an SK tool of mine and promised to look into a couple more. Lesson: Give and you will receive. Forgive and you will be forgiven. But don't do it just for those reasons. Just do it.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Journal entry for July 27, 2011 (Overworked at home, underworked at my job)
Yesterday I felt overworked and underpaid -- it was still the weekend. Today I feel under-worked and underpaid because it was slow again at work. I didn't struggle or suffer too much. Just plain bored.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Journal entry for July 26, 2011 (Drinking again)
So I gave in and drank yesterday.I was tired of feeling bad and not able to get out of my funk, so I returned to an old familiar remedy. I made sure that I didn't fuck around and had 2 shots of tequila and 2 beers and then I felt a lot better (for the moment).
Then my wife and I had sex. It was better than usual, i.e., it went smoother, without the usual physical disasters that regularly happen.
Later, I tried to meditate and it didn't go so well. I was agitated and just felt like getting it over with. I put on my "Course in Miracles" tape and my lesson for today was, "I do not perceive what is in my own best interest." Great. I guess I also flubbed the one for the previous day --"I can escape the world I see by giving up my attack thoughts." It's like this stuff was put here strategically by by some higher being, or like I left a trail of breadcrumbs for myself to find.
Nahhh.
And by the way, you can get a mild hangover from 4 drinks if you don't drink regularly. Today I have to mow the lawn and make food for the week. I'm probably gonna skip the alcohol for a while.
Then my wife and I had sex. It was better than usual, i.e., it went smoother, without the usual physical disasters that regularly happen.
Later, I tried to meditate and it didn't go so well. I was agitated and just felt like getting it over with. I put on my "Course in Miracles" tape and my lesson for today was, "I do not perceive what is in my own best interest." Great. I guess I also flubbed the one for the previous day --"I can escape the world I see by giving up my attack thoughts." It's like this stuff was put here strategically by by some higher being, or like I left a trail of breadcrumbs for myself to find.
Nahhh.
And by the way, you can get a mild hangover from 4 drinks if you don't drink regularly. Today I have to mow the lawn and make food for the week. I'm probably gonna skip the alcohol for a while.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Monday, July 25, 2011
Journal entry for July 25, 2011 (Angry Guy)
The forest fire of my anger is fully engulfed. I am now in day 2 of being pissed. We tried to make amends. She hugged me and said sorry but then qualified it with a bunch of "until you do this & that, I will think the same thing."
I am more pissed at myself, God and everything at this point, and she is just getting the results of it. She only said I was lazy and self-centered, and I kept it going. My ego or blah, blah, blah enjoys anger and pain, I guess, because that's all I allow myself to feel.
I never smile, except in pictures, and of course, it's fake. I just don't feel a smile coming on for any reason. I just hate being me.
I am more pissed at myself, God and everything at this point, and she is just getting the results of it. She only said I was lazy and self-centered, and I kept it going. My ego or blah, blah, blah enjoys anger and pain, I guess, because that's all I allow myself to feel.
I never smile, except in pictures, and of course, it's fake. I just don't feel a smile coming on for any reason. I just hate being me.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Journal entry for July 24, 2011 (Another useless fight)
Ok, how do I feel right now? Angry! Why? My wife called me "lazy and self-centered." She asked me to agree or disagree. I told her that I didn't want to argue with her, but she forced me to answer so I said, "I STRONGLY disagree."
I don't think it is fair for her to say things like that. She knows what I have to do in a day and that even if I wanted to enjoy some downtime, it wouldn't make me "LAZY." But I haven't had a day off of caregiving for her and doing everything else in like 3 years, so how am I lazy? I may not be motivated to do extra stuff because what I do already is a lot. I just get pissed off when someone calls me lazy and is not in my shoes. FUCK
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Journal entry for July 23, 2011 (forcing the bloom)
"Trying to force a flower to bloom. It ain't gonna happen." -- Upon reflecting upon my meditation technique, performing a ritual with an impure heart. "You fool, first go reconcile yourself with your brother and then bring your offering to God."
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Friday, July 22, 2011
Journal entry for July 22, 2011 (A shit day, prerequistes)
Don't get too sappy just yet. Today was another day that goes in the "shitty" category. I have learned to deal with it at work when I get the shit jobs. You just take your time and keep plugging away. It will eventually be done.
Same at home. Keep cleaning it up--it will eventually be done. But only just for a while. Then more shit will come. Sometimes in the process of cleaning shit, there is pee. And any number of such combos. I grow weary. One step forward, two steps back. Or is is 2 steps forward, 1 step back?
Anyway, who makes a world like this, really? I can step outside and see flowers and pet dogs and go for a walk. My wife is stuck in a bed with her own shit all day. I have a hard time reconciling the suffering of this life with a world of beauty, which is also a world of death. And shit.
Wait, there's more. Prerequisites. Whatever I have to do seems to require that I do something else first. Like, if I neglect something one day, it will be there for me, in my way, before I can do the next thing. I have dirty dishes, but the dishwasher is full. I am too tired to bitch anymore. But I'd sure like to.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Journal entry for July 21, 2011 (Beginning of Decomposition Notebook-- thanks, Big Guy)
I want to say "thank you" to God, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, All-that-is, whatever, for helping me to get rid of this anger and frustration. This week hasn't been any different situationally, but attitudinally it has. I feel a bit of an ability to cope, to not react and even a bit of empathy for others. I need to stay focused on doing this daily when things don't go my way and also not get too cocky, 'cause it's always around the next corner.
Anyway, no anti-depressants for me just yet. Thanks again, Big Guy.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Monday, July 11, 2011
The Game
Here's an email to my mom which started it all. Sometimes I have to go back to it when I get to feeling like, well, like my last entry.
I have been thinking about you lately and felt like writing, but have had little time. You know the story.
I recently listened to the audio book version of David Burns book "Feeling Good." I remember you telling me about it quite some time ago and it seemed to make sense at the time. I never really followed through with any of the steps at the time, and any insights quickly vanished. Recently, due to the volatile situation at home, and my inability to cope, I sought to grasp at anything that might help me to better deal with my emotions and frustrations. This book has been very helpful in making me see where I am making my own life more negative and depressing than it needs to be.
I don’t say that I am “cured” of anger, frustration or resentment after having listened to it. However, seeing what is happening as it happens is a big step toward improving. He has a lot of concrete advice (something I wish all therapists would offer) and his observations and techniques are very helpful to a person who is “stuck” in some kind of emotional rut or another.
I think the audio book idea is a good way for a person on the go to get the benefit of reading when sitting down to read is impractical. I listen in my car or while cooking or doing dishes. The soothing tone and the rational thought processes infiltrate my thinking. Later, when situations arise, I am brought back to the examples or strategies outlined in the book and I find I can deal with things more calmly.
It has helped me to be more empathic and less reactive to people. I recently had an epiphany or revelation or whatever you want to call it. Here it is. There are other people on the planet besides myself. It is kind of shocking and amazing that I should only be realizing this at the age of 45. I guess, better late than never.
This thought led me to the related fact that these other people have feelings, emotional ruts, desires, hopes, fears and motivations similar and dissimilar to my own. I guess my 2-way radio has been stuck on transmit the whole time. Now I find that I can tune in to the thoughts and feelings of others and this is greatly helpful in making social situations less dysfunctional.
These thoughts running through my head kind of made me forget my immediate issues and start to ponder some of the deeper issues of life such as “what is the meaning of life?”
I am not ready to write a book or thesis but here it is in a nutshell. What I think I believe at the current moment (subject to change):
We are all God/gods as a part of the collective consciousness known as life. This includes animals, trees, sure—whatever.
A long time ago being all powerful, blah, blah blah, We got bored and decided to invent a game to play for Our amusement.
The game is called the world as we know it. It is similar to Monopoly or the game of Life. We come from “the other place” and take on various roles, each designed to teach us different things. But we already know these things, hence the game. We have all this erased, or mostly erased, and come in as a blank slate. The fun is in the process. Not winning or losing. But there is a goal. To become love incarnate.
Religions are like clues we leave for the next round of the game. Tips to help get you there. The “Golden Rule” would probably suffice. Sure, some religions are twisted and not as helpful, but that’s because we are all imperfect as long as we are in this realm. We don’t always see things clearly and we get “programmed” by other imperfect mortals. And we all have the handicap of this mortal body. There are consequences to improper play, but there is no final judgment, only the judgment you make on yourself. We come back again and again to “get” different aspects of the game and perfect our playing of it.
Negative thoughts and emotions, physical disabilities, natural catastrophes, etc are all obstacles designed into the game to perfect our outcome. They are like hurdles for the runner, the bar for the pole-vaulter and the waves upon which we surf (once we have learned how to not flail around in the water). Every game has to have opposing players and every challenge must have something difficult to overcome. It is through these challenges and conflicts that we grow. Remember the goal is love. In the end, we are all really on the same team, just for the purposes of training we have to split up into two sides in order to have a game to play at all.
Things on this planet that make us happy we designed into the game as respites and rewards: food, sex, music, a good book, a sunset—whatever you like. These make the tedious aspects of the game more tolerable. It isn’t all fun. Not by a longshot. But once we decided to play the game, being all Godly and stuff, well, the game isn’t going away any time soon. There are a lot of poor sports who would just as soon chuck the Monopoly board across the room and say “I quit.” But the game goes on. And guess what? You can’t quit! You may have a time out. But really, everyone will have to come on board eventually.
If it ever gets out, this whole nature of the universe as a game and everyone really does evolve to that point…ahem. That is the scary thing for us as humans. It could be the end of the universe as we know it. I mean, when you place the last card in solitaire and everything is nicely arranged—it’s game over. And that’s a good thing. Maybe that is why there seem to always be stragglers and un-evolved people still walking around. We don’t want the game to end. What will We do next?
I, for my part, feel a whole lot more comfortable in my skin knowing that it is just a game. The pressure is off. I’m not going to drive my car into a tree to “hit the reset button” because I have come too far in this game to start again. I don’t know what the “other side” holds, but I’m pretty sure it’s all ice cream and rainbows and nothing even so malevolent as a hiccup.
I don’t know how long a person must live or how many times we come back or when or if we stop. As a human I am used to linear thinking. That is how I came up with the game analogy. I believe that there will be an end. And I believe in the triumph of good over evil. Evil is a potent adversary, but as all powerful Us, we created it, just to have a challenge, just to pass a few millennium. Solitaire is boring. There is no script and sometimes the rules are not clear to us, but ultimately, We cannot be defeated by something We created. In the end everyone will win and good will swallow up evil. George Bush, Hitler, Ghandi and Jesus will all have a cappuccino and discuss the events as they saw them. The stories could go on forever…
That’s the “reason for it all.” So that in the afterlife, when all is said and done, We will have something to talk about. And so We can’t say “I wonder what would have happened if…” For all I know there could be a zillion versions of this game being played out, different universes with slightly similar, slightly different players and constructs. Like an episode of “Fringe” or “Sliders.”
And no, I’m not on drugs.
I just came back to the keyboard to find my cat has typed a good portion of this (kidding---though I will give her credit for any typos).
That being said, I am still human, still struggle with depression, hurt, anger, frustration and fear. I just have a different perspective now and am trying it on for size. Even prisoners in solitary have freedom if only in their mind.
Well, enough philosophizing for now. It’s time for dinner.
So, how have you been? Don’t feel like you have to match my long-windedness if you don’t want to. I appreciate any email from you.
Love,
Andrew
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
The Dark Night
A time comes in every seekers journey where the initial results of his efforts seem to stop. The same old prescriptions just don't cut it anymore and he is left questioning his every belief. Indeed, God seems so far away and life so meaningless he may be inclined to give up and go back to what he thought made him happy before. But if he is far enough down the road, he realizes that there is no turning back, and yet seemingly there is nowhere forward to go. He is stuck.
I have no advice for the seeker at this point, because it is me. Unable to be rid of my ego, it hangs around my neck like a dead chicken to punish me. It is a foul, rotten thing and I know I "shouldn't" judge it so, but it is what it is.
Misery loves company so I am radiating all of my misery into the ether so I can bask in my "aloneness" with all other seekers who have hit the wall and are considering putting a bullet in it. There's a reason I don't own a gun. I shouldn't even be trusted with scissors.
In the wealth of wisdom is great sorrow. Ignorance is bliss. I have inoculated myself to responding to words of wisdom by listening to countless self-help and spiritual audio books. My wife, who has MS and was severely emotional a few months back, has now become my rock of sanity. I am off the deep end and have no sense of happiness or purpose. Only misery, only me. Universe, what universe?
I have no advice for the seeker at this point, because it is me. Unable to be rid of my ego, it hangs around my neck like a dead chicken to punish me. It is a foul, rotten thing and I know I "shouldn't" judge it so, but it is what it is.
Misery loves company so I am radiating all of my misery into the ether so I can bask in my "aloneness" with all other seekers who have hit the wall and are considering putting a bullet in it. There's a reason I don't own a gun. I shouldn't even be trusted with scissors.
In the wealth of wisdom is great sorrow. Ignorance is bliss. I have inoculated myself to responding to words of wisdom by listening to countless self-help and spiritual audio books. My wife, who has MS and was severely emotional a few months back, has now become my rock of sanity. I am off the deep end and have no sense of happiness or purpose. Only misery, only me. Universe, what universe?
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Journal entry for June 26, 2011 (Diabetes is simple, caregiving...not so much)
And I could smoke my weed and drink my beer and tequila with impunity. I just had to have good results on the old meter. And the sex was just icing on the cake. I could even eat bad foods, provided I had sex right afterward, and this would give me a "happy" reading on the meter.
Fast forward five years, my wife's MS has consumed us both. Everything revolves around her care, from the changing of diapers, the making of meals, the laundry, the non-healing toe injury to the occasional whims which must be appeased or her wrath incurred.
I don't know who I am apart from this. I do dishes, cook, clean and help her into the shower. She has no activity, bedridden 100%. I shop, I come home, I mow the lawn, I let the cats out, bring them in, change their litter box, feed the dog, paint the shed--but apart from these things, I don't know who I am.
I know who I am not. I'm not the guy having any fun at the moment. I'm not the guy feeling peace unsurpassable or enlightenment. I have been (and still find myself) the guy crying about the unregainable past, the guy angry with God for giving my wife her disability, for robbing her of her young body and leaving her to suffer inside its shell. I'm the guy seeking answers in every book and tape and catching only glimpses which flicker and conflict and utterly leave me confused with unbearable sorrow.
Who am I? The one writing this? Certainly not! This is just distilled pain, from thoughts about how senseless this life appears to me. Who is the me who argues with the me that bitches and complains? Who is the one who "understands on some deeper level?" Hogwash, I will never get it. I thought I came close, I really did.
All the new age prophets agreed with me, too: "Life is just a game." Well, is it? Why is it not any fun? Why do I keep losing? Am I not playing it right? Do I have a bad attitude? Can I find fulfillment in doing what I am doing? Should I be doing something different? Where is the Holy Spirit in all of this?
I have tried to be a better person, but it just seems pointless. I don't feel anything good, but I do feel all that is bad. So I should do good anyway, like Mother Theresa says?
If I could pick one religion and follow it, I am sure there would be peace--but all religions contain errors and contradictions, so which one would I choose? They all say, "Stay away from that one" or "This one is OK, but the real truth is..." and I am left scratching my head, or picking my earwax, to be precise.
I have indulged myself in my perceived pleasures, and while they made me feel pretty darn good when done in moderation, they were transitory and always either had to end or led to me wanting the next thing. It was a happy carousel, chasing the next high or buzz or level of numbness (dumbness). I don't regret any of it.
I just don't know what I'm supposed to feel or do now to supposedly advance to the next level of awareness, consciousness, Being or whatever. I feel like I keep coming up with more bitterness, emptiness, and confusion, the more I supposedly seek. And, sure, I could say my meditation and prayer is pretty paltry and weak if I am really attempting to contact God.
But shouldn't He be contacting me? Why does it always have to be about what I am doing wrong? What I must be overlooking or failing at? Are there not billions of people on this planet, some more aware and some less? Are we all lost? Are we all going to hell? Really, now!
And what of all this suffering and the seeming inequity of it all? One person worries about the brakes on his Mercedes, and my wife worries about if she'll poop today. Maybe she doesn't even worry, she just accepts it. And it sucks, yes it does. Judge, judge, judge--yes, I do.
Who, really, am I? It was so much easier when I was just diabetic.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Journal entry for June 21, 2011 (Dreamscraps with Jeff)
Tagging along with Jeff, talking about hybrid motorcycles, electric golf carts and going to country rock concerts. We lived in a newly developed tract housing community with little acre parcels. We were scavenging for building materials in dumpsters in front of newly constructed units.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Journal entry for June 19, 2011 (Voices in my head)
Things perceived to be the voice of God
"It is all just a game."
"I am already pleased with you."
"Thank you should be your mantra."
"It is all just a game."
"I am already pleased with you."
"Thank you should be your mantra."
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Journal entry for June 18, 2011 (stolen bike dream)
In a dorm room, in my new school, I had a bike stolen when going to the restroom to pee. I felt rage, thinking, "Is this how this is---NO!"
I went outside and the first person I saw on a bike, I yelled, "STOP!" They crashed the bike, and I chased them with a spear. I was threatening them to never do that again. (And it was my bike).
I went outside and the first person I saw on a bike, I yelled, "STOP!" They crashed the bike, and I chased them with a spear. I was threatening them to never do that again. (And it was my bike).
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Journal entry for June 16, 2011 (Non-sequiters)
Anal sphincter buttholism.
Invite Barney Fife and Bucketmouth in for a cup of hot "whatever."
In a band, making up lyrics, smoking weed, or just having it around not smoking it, actually.
"We hide" a song by Eminem.
Try on the dress, see if it suits you.
Invite Barney Fife and Bucketmouth in for a cup of hot "whatever."
In a band, making up lyrics, smoking weed, or just having it around not smoking it, actually.
"We hide" a song by Eminem.
Try on the dress, see if it suits you.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Journal entry for June 7, 2011 (Waiting for answers with my loveable, prickly cactus)
As days go by, I wonder how I got here, where I will go and how come it's taking me so long to find God. I think, "I am seeking, why does He not show me a sign?" Then I think, "Yeah, for what, 2 months now? And you expect what kind of sign? Part the heavens or what?"
I guess I should look for the signs that are all around me. I guess, first give some thanks for what I do perceive or what was revealed to me specifically.
1. That this life is just a game.
2. That we are all one, all 8 billion of us.
So far that's about it, though each teaching that resonates with my spirit and causes me to tear up, I feel is proof of God's Spirit in me saying, "Yes! Finally! He gets it!" A little late, but better than not at all.
So still I wait, for further instruction, and it comes in the form of tests of patience. My wife's crazy PMS, MS or whatever it is, makes her insane and me as well. I try so hard to love the prickly cactus she sometimes is. But I know it's not her, not really. Just a mask she wears for God, who is teaching me that my love is not yet perfect.
It may be a while yet. I'm still here, though, God.
I guess I should look for the signs that are all around me. I guess, first give some thanks for what I do perceive or what was revealed to me specifically.
1. That this life is just a game.
2. That we are all one, all 8 billion of us.
So far that's about it, though each teaching that resonates with my spirit and causes me to tear up, I feel is proof of God's Spirit in me saying, "Yes! Finally! He gets it!" A little late, but better than not at all.
So still I wait, for further instruction, and it comes in the form of tests of patience. My wife's crazy PMS, MS or whatever it is, makes her insane and me as well. I try so hard to love the prickly cactus she sometimes is. But I know it's not her, not really. Just a mask she wears for God, who is teaching me that my love is not yet perfect.
It may be a while yet. I'm still here, though, God.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Monday, June 6, 2011
Journal entry for June 6, 2011 (Death in the Supermarket--a real life hallucination)
I saw death at the supermarket. She was kneeling by the mushrooms. I know that if I reached out and touched her that I would have the touch of death on me. Her lace shawl was touching the ground. She looked about 25 and had black hair, white skin and in intent Asian face.
I took my mushrooms from the adjacent bin and went on my way. Later, I saw her again in a different aisle and she was not death, but only a girl of 15 with her mother. Her intent Asian face was American and she was laughing. I never saw her after that.
I took my mushrooms from the adjacent bin and went on my way. Later, I saw her again in a different aisle and she was not death, but only a girl of 15 with her mother. Her intent Asian face was American and she was laughing. I never saw her after that.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Journal entry for June 6, 2011 (Remember the Game)
Remember the game
And why we're here
To become love and
Conquer fear
We do these things
For our own entertainment
To see what it's like
To achieve this greatness
All that we seek
We already are
Though temporarily handicapped
In this earthen jar
And why we're here
To become love and
Conquer fear
We do these things
For our own entertainment
To see what it's like
To achieve this greatness
All that we seek
We already are
Though temporarily handicapped
In this earthen jar
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Journal entry for Jun 5, 2011 (Magic 8 Ball Q&A)
Magic 8 Ball Questions and Answers
Q Am I going to heaven?
A Outlook not so good.
Q Really. I'm serious.
A Ask again later.
Q Ok, what about now?
A Concentrate and ask again.
Q Ok, I concentrated. Now tell me.
A Very doubtful.
Q I'm still not satisfied.
A Concentrate and ask again.
Q I'm still thinking about it.
A Ask again later.
Q Magic 8 Ball, you're a good friend. Are you my friend?
A Very doubtful.
Q Magic 8 Ball, are you run by demons?
A Reply hazy. Try again.
Q So are you?
A Better not tell you now.
Q That sounds intuitive. Are you for real?
A Without a doubt.
Q Can I trust you?
A Ask again later.
Q Now?
A Yes.
Q Magic 8 Ball, are you full of shit?
A Reply hazy. Try again.
Q I'm not giving up. Are you full of shit?
A Without a doubt.
Q Is it worthwhile to ask you questions?
A Without a doubt.
Q Really?
A Very doubtful.
Q Are you contradicting yourself?
A Concentrate and ask again.
Q Am I going to heaven?
A Outlook not so good.
Q Really. I'm serious.
A Ask again later.
Q Ok, what about now?
A Concentrate and ask again.
Q Ok, I concentrated. Now tell me.
A Very doubtful.
Q I'm still not satisfied.
A Concentrate and ask again.
Q I'm still thinking about it.
A Ask again later.
Q Magic 8 Ball, you're a good friend. Are you my friend?
A Very doubtful.
Q Magic 8 Ball, are you run by demons?
A Reply hazy. Try again.
Q So are you?
A Better not tell you now.
Q That sounds intuitive. Are you for real?
A Without a doubt.
Q Can I trust you?
A Ask again later.
Q Now?
A Yes.
Q Magic 8 Ball, are you full of shit?
A Reply hazy. Try again.
Q I'm not giving up. Are you full of shit?
A Without a doubt.
Q Is it worthwhile to ask you questions?
A Without a doubt.
Q Really?
A Very doubtful.
Q Are you contradicting yourself?
A Concentrate and ask again.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Stop Resisting
The key to all spiritual awakening (from what I have gathered) is to stop resisting what is. Life and all its experiences are supposed to ultimately bring you back to God. The high road or the low road, the bumps the bruises...
I don't know how to say it. God is hiding, but He is everywhere. Too many people talk about God as if they understand everything and fit it neatly into doctrines and beliefs. I don't think it is possible to talk about God without making serious errors and distortions. The most enlightened people probably say the least and quietly just "are."
I am just a noobie so I am just running over at the mouth because the ideas are something I am grappling with. I have had fleeting glimpses and strong emotional responses at times, and so I feel there is a reality to my faith. But my little self is having a hard time getting out of the way all the time.
Seeing the big picture can be hard when you are covered in mud and it gets in your eyes and smears your glasses. I know meditation is important, but I can't seem to stop my mind for more than a few seconds. I have to surrender to the moment, just surrender.
Right now, the moment is not talking or blogging (more ego) but to cut some diapers, email my mother and try to sneak back into bed with my sleeping, but still possibly angry wife. Good.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Friday, May 6, 2011
So, I guess I should mention that one day, not so long ago I had an epiphany. It was very subtle, no shining lights or falling off my horse, but more of a comforting realization that made me see things differently and led me to make some changes in my life.
While driving to work and contemplating my sorry situation (see previous posts), I had a deep longing to know "why?" We all ask this for many reasons in the course of our lives. This time was the "big one". Why are we here? Why all this? Why do we suffer?
The realization seemed to come to me that we are here as a game. It is just a game we chose to take part in from the start, so we can not take it too seriously. We, the Immortal, decided to get all dirty and play in the mud and experience all sorts of things and their consequences and all this was for Our entertainment. I became aware, I guess, at this point, 45 years into this lifetime, that I was not the only person on the planet. We are all going through this together, some happier, some sadder, some more aware, some blissfully ignorant, and some like me--just angry. It took a lot of things to pound me in the head to make me want to care about more than myself in this world.
I used to live for the good times and was addicted to weed, alcohol, caffeine and had to have a constant stream of media input into my brain. I fell asleep to TV or radio and at times TV, radio, CB and scanner simultaneously. Talk about schizo! I couldn't stand the silence, I was afraid I would have to hear my own thoughts. When I did hear them, they were just so much random repetition. I would ruminate on the things that were wrong and wish for things to be different. The buzzing of the echoes of my media soaked brain would play on in endless loops of songs, tv commercials, harsh voices of self-criticism and on and on. I had not a moment of peace unless I became buzzed out of my mind.
One time, while sitting on the couch, buzzed out of my mind, I actually came a bit unglued. I felt that I, myself, did not exist. I was aware of my body, but felt completely disconnected from it. I began to wonder if this was what it was like to be dead. I thought, oooh, this is creepy. And also, hey, at least I am still "aware." I guess I can't be dead. I think now that at that moment I was so far out of my regular mind, that all patterns of reality and associations vanished momentarily. It was not a sustainable state because the amount of intoxication had to be just right in order not to actually kill the body or just pass out into dreamless slumber. Anyway, I digress.
I guess now you can say I am on a quest. A quest to find what was never lost, but was buried deep within me: my own true spirit. I must keep moving forward on my path of spirituality and toward the goal of Being. It is a slow process for me. I have many ingrained patterns to abolish. I find the goal of surrender is also the path.
One good thing has happened. I find I am more peaceful and accepting of what is, even if it is not enjoyable. Occasionally, I have moments of unexpected joy, or alternately, I tear up when I hear some truth being spoken. I have noticed in my "reading" of the audio books listed below there is a common thread to all religions. There is a great unmanifested Spirit who is the source of all being and awareness. The goal for humans is to become aware of their God-nature and become beings of love and merge with the One. In the meantime, we play in the mud, and God watches, amused.
Suggested reading:
David Burns -- Feeling Good
Deepak Chopra -- How to Know God
The Tibetan Book of the Dead
Jon Kabot-Zinn -- Wherever You Go, There You Are
Judith Orloff -- Emotional Freedom-Liberate Yourself from Negative Emotions and Transform Your Life
Parmahansa Yogananda -- God Talks with Arjuna, The Bhavad-Gita, Royal Science of God Realization, the Eternal Dialogue between Soul and Spirit, Autobiography of a Yogi
Eckhart Tolle -- The Power of Now,
Stillness Speaks,
A New Earth - Awakening to Your Life's Purpose
The Bible -- New American Standard translation
Lao Tzu -- The Tao Te Ching
The Reluctant Messenger -- http://reluctant-messenger.com/God-talking.htm
Or you could spare yourself the reading and just go outside and sit under a tree and look at a flower. It shouldn't take too long for a person who is ready to make a change to get the cooperation of the Universe to help them. Realizing that you are being helped may take some time, as what we expect is not always what we get. It's never too late and it's never too soon--take a look at yourself and make the CHANGE.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Think I'll Eat Some Worms
Got that pit of the stomach feeling again. No doubt because I am self-indulging my miserable feelings of worthlessness. I am alone. I am utterly alone. You know the drill.
Here's the deal. I suck at a lot of things, being a caregiver tops the list. Other things I suck at. Barn building. Roof panels still not on correctly, kicking my ass and requiring help (again). Work. I have off days at work and get called into the office so often I need my own seat. I don't know how long this can go on before I get canned. Being a decent person. This goes back to caregiving, but it goes deeper. I am just not nice.
Yesterday, I bumped my head, and my wife said, "Sorry you bumped your head. Did you learn anything?" I was not happy to be lectured so I tried to ask her to not include the scolding on account of I just bumped my head and it still hurt. She is PMSing right now so she jumped on my "stupidity" -- "12 years of..." -- "I have no sympathy for...." I should have quit while I was behind, but stupidly I argued about how right I am...again. Long story short: no nap, no nookie and Boopie up in the middle of the night crying.
It's not about me. I look at my wife lying there in bed, and nothing makes her happy anymore. She can't do anything other than play Farmville and write on Facebook. When she's asleep is the only time she seems to be at peace. I don't even know if that's the case; she looks like she's exhausted when she wakes up, like "why do I have to exist?" I don't have the answer. I know I'd be suicidal if I was in her shoes. Or socks as the case is. She never wears shoes because her feet rarely are on the ground for more than a few seconds or she will go into hyper-panic mode.
Back to the head bumping. She says she has no sympathy for anyone who has two arms and two legs and can walk around and bump their head. Or walk around and stub their toe or....you get it? I don't blame her for that. I filter everything through my own pain as well. It doesn't help that I get agitated by everything. She said, "You never show me any sympathy, and I'm the one who deserves it the most. I am just getting back at you and showing you how it feels." Touche. I get it.
She is really mad because of the diet I am trying to put her on, which is somewhat lower carb than she'd like. That is, no pizza, spaghetti, dairy, high saturated-fat meat, etc. She has been getting used to a little more of the goodies than she had been having. The other day she had to go to the cardiologist to get clearance for the 2nd angio. That's a whole other story. The cardiologist said she had a weak area in the lower part of her heart. She didn't have to go on drugs, but he recommended it. She said she'd try the diet and exercise first.
However, this will be not as easy as it seems. She is a carboholic and gets real mean, real fast when denied their sugary goodness. I don't blame her for this, either. I wish she could eat whatever she wants and have no repercussions. It's just not that way. With MS, diet is really important. And now with a cardio problem, too...Anyway, I just dread bringing her food cuzz I know it's not going to be what she wants. With the PMS happening, she may throw it at me.
It's not that I have it so bad. I am the one who is mobile, so I do everything. Everything that I can within my limitations. Sometimes I try to go beyond them and get into trouble overdoing it. Not being smart, trying to "flat rate" some job, only to fuck it up (like the barn roof...arrrrhhh). Anyway, who needed to hear this? No one. I just needed to vent. And not as in my blow off valve, which blows off all the time anymore. I need to try to make my wife's life as trouble free as possible and give her some kind of happiness, if at all possible.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Journal entry for July 4, 2010 (Raw Deal rap)
I get so sad when I see you there lying in bed
I go out, you stay home, you're all alone
Where you go when you're asleep I don't know
It's the only time you ever really seem at peace
The days are long, and it's so hard to go on
I go to work, come hoe and be a jerk
To my only one, my wife and my lovely
How the hell you got this raw deal
It's above me, I can't understand it
It's like all the bad things I ever did
Came back on you--that's how God planned it
And I can't see what His game is
I'm just tired of dealing with all His
Motherfucking lameness
Blameless--not me
Every one of His children fucks up eventually
So why'd He have to hit you so hard?
What was the point of all this meanness?
How do you tell the god of the Universe to suck your penis?
I could cry, but I'm done
I could try to outrun
My own death, my creeping mortality
Even though my own eyes see its certain eventuality
I go out, you stay home, you're all alone
Where you go when you're asleep I don't know
It's the only time you ever really seem at peace
The days are long, and it's so hard to go on
I go to work, come hoe and be a jerk
To my only one, my wife and my lovely
How the hell you got this raw deal
It's above me, I can't understand it
It's like all the bad things I ever did
Came back on you--that's how God planned it
And I can't see what His game is
I'm just tired of dealing with all His
Motherfucking lameness
Blameless--not me
Every one of His children fucks up eventually
So why'd He have to hit you so hard?
What was the point of all this meanness?
How do you tell the god of the Universe to suck your penis?
I could cry, but I'm done
I could try to outrun
My own death, my creeping mortality
Even though my own eyes see its certain eventuality
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
A dream Sharon made me write down (2010)
Sitting in bed, in a big warehouse with big picture windows. Outside were a lot of pine trees.
I was making labels and telling off a doctor about how they are not trying to figure out my problem. Except Dr. Gilkes, who ordered antibiotics. Urine tests that came back with blood in them were ignored by the doctors.
"You guys don't give a shit. If you did, you'd say 'Oh, my god this is a horrible situation. A 37 year old woman with all these problems.' You just want to slap a label on it and be done."
I was making labels and telling off a doctor about how they are not trying to figure out my problem. Except Dr. Gilkes, who ordered antibiotics. Urine tests that came back with blood in them were ignored by the doctors.
"You guys don't give a shit. If you did, you'd say 'Oh, my god this is a horrible situation. A 37 year old woman with all these problems.' You just want to slap a label on it and be done."
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Journal entry for May 30, 2010 (Grass this green, you'll never see)
I'm living my life for a moment
That never ever arrives
There's nothing I can say or do
To make my dreams come true
And nothing you can do or say
Will make this pain go away
So I say hiding's good if I could
Just lie here and things would catch on fire
Nothing left of me or anything else
And nothing left for us to try to tell ourselves
I can't be, I cant ever be
Without you, don't you see?
I'm not me, not really me
Without you next to me
Life goes on, mow the lawn
Grass this green, you'll never see
And I can't smile or
Do much of anything for you at all
Makes me wonder what it's all here for
What the hell are we all here for?
That never ever arrives
There's nothing I can say or do
To make my dreams come true
And nothing you can do or say
Will make this pain go away
So I say hiding's good if I could
Just lie here and things would catch on fire
Nothing left of me or anything else
And nothing left for us to try to tell ourselves
I can't be, I cant ever be
Without you, don't you see?
I'm not me, not really me
Without you next to me
Life goes on, mow the lawn
Grass this green, you'll never see
And I can't smile or
Do much of anything for you at all
Makes me wonder what it's all here for
What the hell are we all here for?
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Friday, April 16, 2010
The Liberation of Boopie
Our day actually began the day before with the home health nurse installing the foley catheter so Sharon could make this long trip. A nurse came out earlier in the day and installed one, but it got pulled while she was sliding to the potty chair and was causing her pain.So we took it out and we called them out to put a new one later that night and that one was ok. The next morning had Sharon waking up at 3 and me at 4 to get ready for the big day. A transport company was to arrive at 5:30 to take us to the IR for her venogram/procedure. They arrived at 4:45 and we were nowhere near ready. She couldn't make the transfer from the manual chair to the power chair. So we brought in the local fire dept by calling 911 so she wouldn't wind up on the floor. It is called a lift assist or something like that. Four big beefy boys came out and 2 of them lifted her by her legs and shoulders and got her into her chair so we could make the appointment. Her arms are sore from it still. This time the transport company driver didn't get us lost or make her airsick (hork) with their lame driving.
So we arrive at the IR without any further incident. She is taken into Radiology at 8 and given a neuro exam (pricking with paperclips from head to toe.) She had very little feeling from her knees down. They start an IV with mild sedation. At 9 she is taken into Radiology. They prepped her groin area, and set up their dropcloths and then she fell asleep. At one point she woke up and felt the doctors hand pushing on her groin. She didn' t feel anything else during the probing or the contrast injection and was asleep for this. When she next woke up the balloon was in her right jugular and she spoke up "HEY". The doc then ordered the nurse to give her more drugs and she was back out in a second. When she awoke the third time she says she hallucinated a bunch of bikini models in the corner of the operating room. She had no idea where she was, there was an X-Ray machine in front of her and the probe was still in her vein. The doctor removed the probe and the machine and they were done. It was around 12. After recouperating for an hour or so and getting some fluid and graham crackers we spoke to the doctor about the procedure. He said her left IJV and Azygos looked fine but there was narrowing in the right (which is smaller than the left) IJV. He said the flow was barely trickling on that side. There were 2 collaterals which were as big as the vein itself. He ballooned several spots to increase the the diameter. He was satisfied that normal flow was restored after this was done and the vein held up at least for as long as he was in there watching it. I asked the doctor if he wanted me to keep his name off the internet and he said "PLEASE". He doesn't want to be innundated and get a lot of attention for what he is doing. He said, however, that he spoke with his head neurologist about CCSVI and she said that if she had MS she would get scanned and angioed in a hot second. He said they know that this stuff is all over the internet and the lid can't be kept on it forever. Right now we are just at the beginning. We are just the 3rd MS patient he has done this procedure for. He did say that he didn't think this procedure was risky at all with just the angio and that he would wait on stenting any veins to see if A) the procedure had any positive effects B) a relapse of symptoms and restenosis occurred. So did she come flying off the table singing an operetta? Nah, she was too wasted on the "conscious sedation" they gave her. In recovery she was pretty tired but came back around after the drugs started wearing off and was quite talkative. Her neck was a little sore, but her arm hurt worse from the firemen. She said her legs and feet didn't hurt nearly as much as before. From a 4 on the pain scale to a 3 or a 2. All in all it wasn't too bad of an experience for her. Her last dentist appointment was probably more painful. But then we got home and in trying to transfer onto the manual wheelchair to the power chair once again she wound up on the floor. (Two days ago a home medical equipment company delivered a Hoyer lift, but it won't work with the power chair because the base is too narrow to accomodate her power chair...) We employed the Hoyer lift (still waiting to be returned) and lifted her off the floor and onto the manual chair and off to bed she went. Even though she fell (she was exhausted) the time on the floor and the amount of freaking out was at a minimum as compared to other floor events. While in bed she experimented by laying her bed down flat. She hasn't been able to do this for years without experiencing vertigo and nausea. She tried it and felt fine! She said she could tell something is different. I can't wait to see what tomorrow will bring after she has had a good nights sleep.
later
Well, she awoke from her nap of an hour or so and said that her vision has improved slightly and that "things seem clearer". She is not having to strain to see the computer. Just tilting her head back before would make her dizzy now she says it is no problem. Her left hand also feels stronger. Makes sense, right? Right brain, right vein -- left side of the body. I feel like I am watching a little baby seed about to sprout can't wait for it to hurry up and become a tree. And start flying around singing opera. But as of right now she says "I do feel better". I guess someone is going to lose that bet!
list of improvements: (day 1 and part of day 2)
more feeling in fingertips
more feeling in legs (can pass the paper clip test now)
better strength in left hand
improved vision
easier to transfer to potty chair
fatigue is less
arm strength is better -- able to lift self on potty chair (pushups) with arm strength only
voice quality is stronger
feels a lot more clearheaded
oh, and get this--she took a hot shower for the first time in 5 years and it felt great--she didn't even notice that the water was nice and hot!
transferring back to the bed from the shower chair was easier
breathing feels less labored -- hasn't felt the need for the O2
no vertigo when leaning head backward or lying flat
freakout mode not happening when feet are on the floor
standing while holding self on wheelchair for 30 sec without 02 (pre procedure was 15 sec w/out O2 and 30 sec with O2)
areas still of concern:
still having issues with bladder -- peed bed during the night LOTS of urine
some double vision when turning head
right leg twitched a bit during the night
feet still turn purple when on the floor, but not as painful
still falling, leg and ankle muscles atrophied and need rehab
It's a nice day outside, we might see about getting her into her power chair and going for a cruise around the property. More on this later.
Ok, it's later. I can see that this is going to take time or we will be in for serious setbacks. We tried unsuccessfully to get her into her power chair. The floor. Again. This time no Hoyer lift (they came and took it back this morning). So we placed a sheet under her and she scooted all the way back to the bedroom on her butt. Once there after resting and O2 we did our famous "get a leg up" procedure and kind of rolled her onto the bed. This is a person who has been doing not much of anything but bedrest for 2 years. She has no calf muscles or ankle muscles. We need some very gradual strength building exercises that she can do in bed to get her back to being able to get into that power chair. It is a very difficult transfer for her. Until then, we have a new Hoyer lift coming with better accessiblity. She is now recovering in bed, and her recoup time is less than previous floor routines. We need to keep her off the floor so I guess I will have to be the voice of reason when she thinks about trying stuff that is still too difficult. At least she wasn't on any blood thinners so she won't bruise up or bleed. It is just so sad to see her try so hard and still wind up on that floor and be unable to do much of anything to stop it once it starts to go south.
I don't want to eat my words so we are just taking it as it comes and making notes on what is and isn't happening. Despite the setbacks I still have to say we are both glad we did this. People: never, ever give up. Even if it is just a little bit of an improvement it is worth doing. She has a lot of rehab to do, but maybe now we can start to go the other direction (while staying off the floor).
So we arrive at the IR without any further incident. She is taken into Radiology at 8 and given a neuro exam (pricking with paperclips from head to toe.) She had very little feeling from her knees down. They start an IV with mild sedation. At 9 she is taken into Radiology. They prepped her groin area, and set up their dropcloths and then she fell asleep. At one point she woke up and felt the doctors hand pushing on her groin. She didn' t feel anything else during the probing or the contrast injection and was asleep for this. When she next woke up the balloon was in her right jugular and she spoke up "HEY". The doc then ordered the nurse to give her more drugs and she was back out in a second. When she awoke the third time she says she hallucinated a bunch of bikini models in the corner of the operating room. She had no idea where she was, there was an X-Ray machine in front of her and the probe was still in her vein. The doctor removed the probe and the machine and they were done. It was around 12. After recouperating for an hour or so and getting some fluid and graham crackers we spoke to the doctor about the procedure. He said her left IJV and Azygos looked fine but there was narrowing in the right (which is smaller than the left) IJV. He said the flow was barely trickling on that side. There were 2 collaterals which were as big as the vein itself. He ballooned several spots to increase the the diameter. He was satisfied that normal flow was restored after this was done and the vein held up at least for as long as he was in there watching it. I asked the doctor if he wanted me to keep his name off the internet and he said "PLEASE". He doesn't want to be innundated and get a lot of attention for what he is doing. He said, however, that he spoke with his head neurologist about CCSVI and she said that if she had MS she would get scanned and angioed in a hot second. He said they know that this stuff is all over the internet and the lid can't be kept on it forever. Right now we are just at the beginning. We are just the 3rd MS patient he has done this procedure for. He did say that he didn't think this procedure was risky at all with just the angio and that he would wait on stenting any veins to see if A) the procedure had any positive effects B) a relapse of symptoms and restenosis occurred. So did she come flying off the table singing an operetta? Nah, she was too wasted on the "conscious sedation" they gave her. In recovery she was pretty tired but came back around after the drugs started wearing off and was quite talkative. Her neck was a little sore, but her arm hurt worse from the firemen. She said her legs and feet didn't hurt nearly as much as before. From a 4 on the pain scale to a 3 or a 2. All in all it wasn't too bad of an experience for her. Her last dentist appointment was probably more painful. But then we got home and in trying to transfer onto the manual wheelchair to the power chair once again she wound up on the floor. (Two days ago a home medical equipment company delivered a Hoyer lift, but it won't work with the power chair because the base is too narrow to accomodate her power chair...) We employed the Hoyer lift (still waiting to be returned) and lifted her off the floor and onto the manual chair and off to bed she went. Even though she fell (she was exhausted) the time on the floor and the amount of freaking out was at a minimum as compared to other floor events. While in bed she experimented by laying her bed down flat. She hasn't been able to do this for years without experiencing vertigo and nausea. She tried it and felt fine! She said she could tell something is different. I can't wait to see what tomorrow will bring after she has had a good nights sleep.
later
Well, she awoke from her nap of an hour or so and said that her vision has improved slightly and that "things seem clearer". She is not having to strain to see the computer. Just tilting her head back before would make her dizzy now she says it is no problem. Her left hand also feels stronger. Makes sense, right? Right brain, right vein -- left side of the body. I feel like I am watching a little baby seed about to sprout can't wait for it to hurry up and become a tree. And start flying around singing opera. But as of right now she says "I do feel better". I guess someone is going to lose that bet!
list of improvements: (day 1 and part of day 2)
more feeling in fingertips
more feeling in legs (can pass the paper clip test now)
better strength in left hand
improved vision
easier to transfer to potty chair
fatigue is less
arm strength is better -- able to lift self on potty chair (pushups) with arm strength only
voice quality is stronger
feels a lot more clearheaded
oh, and get this--she took a hot shower for the first time in 5 years and it felt great--she didn't even notice that the water was nice and hot!
transferring back to the bed from the shower chair was easier
breathing feels less labored -- hasn't felt the need for the O2
no vertigo when leaning head backward or lying flat
freakout mode not happening when feet are on the floor
standing while holding self on wheelchair for 30 sec without 02 (pre procedure was 15 sec w/out O2 and 30 sec with O2)
areas still of concern:
still having issues with bladder -- peed bed during the night LOTS of urine
some double vision when turning head
right leg twitched a bit during the night
feet still turn purple when on the floor, but not as painful
still falling, leg and ankle muscles atrophied and need rehab
It's a nice day outside, we might see about getting her into her power chair and going for a cruise around the property. More on this later.
Ok, it's later. I can see that this is going to take time or we will be in for serious setbacks. We tried unsuccessfully to get her into her power chair. The floor. Again. This time no Hoyer lift (they came and took it back this morning). So we placed a sheet under her and she scooted all the way back to the bedroom on her butt. Once there after resting and O2 we did our famous "get a leg up" procedure and kind of rolled her onto the bed. This is a person who has been doing not much of anything but bedrest for 2 years. She has no calf muscles or ankle muscles. We need some very gradual strength building exercises that she can do in bed to get her back to being able to get into that power chair. It is a very difficult transfer for her. Until then, we have a new Hoyer lift coming with better accessiblity. She is now recovering in bed, and her recoup time is less than previous floor routines. We need to keep her off the floor so I guess I will have to be the voice of reason when she thinks about trying stuff that is still too difficult. At least she wasn't on any blood thinners so she won't bruise up or bleed. It is just so sad to see her try so hard and still wind up on that floor and be unable to do much of anything to stop it once it starts to go south.
I don't want to eat my words so we are just taking it as it comes and making notes on what is and isn't happening. Despite the setbacks I still have to say we are both glad we did this. People: never, ever give up. Even if it is just a little bit of an improvement it is worth doing. She has a lot of rehab to do, but maybe now we can start to go the other direction (while staying off the floor).
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Emptiness
This should go in 2010. It was a draft for years and then I looked at it and the date changed.
________________________________________________________________________________
Who am I kidding? To be empty you have to at least have the capacity to be full of something -- I suppose being full of shit counts for that then. But seriously...I have this impending sense of doom and an uneasy feeling of "do I even exist?" In the next few days Sharon (still my wife) is going in for angioplasty to correct her CCSVI at _______ hospital. I was so full of excitement in the weeks leading up to this. Partly because I will be taking vacation time, but mostly because I so long to see a turning point toward her recovery. Now, as the day approaches, I have nothing but a numb feeling of fearfulness.
Part of it could be all the crazy things she has said to me in the past few months. The whole Charlie thing. The whole "if I get better, I'm leaving you behind" thing. The whole "you're an asshole and I can't get far enough away from you...oh, by the way you're neglecting _____ ." I guess that's not emptiness, that's anger at feeling mistreated and under-appreciated.
Oh, and she found out about this blog so anything I say, I may as well say to her face. It's just that I hate confrontations. And yet I am no good at hiding my "empty" feeling. She'll catch on and ask me what is up.
I read your email, that's what.
The whole Charlie thing. The "I love you's", the dirty talk, the same Josh Turner song she emailed to me, she emails to him. I feel like whatever it is that she says to me she is also saying to him. Only, except the negative stuff. That she reserves for me alone. How lucky I am.
One part of me is the understanding guy that says "yeah, she has a pretty lonely life and wants to have attention," which this guy gives her by way of emails and phone calls (when I'm not home). I should be the bigger man and ignore it because certainly this 70 year old MARRIED man in Minnesota is not a threat.
Except that he is... He is feeding her all kinds of bullshit about how he loves her and will care for her (yeah, what about your CURRENT wife?) He has promised to buy a ranch and move her out there, and he wishes he could hold her and kiss her and lay there next to her and on and on...
And she is enjoying it, as is evident by her responses to his emails. If she were not disabled and in dire need of help, I think I would be more likely to make it a big issue, like, "choose bitch." But when I hear some of the things she says to me when she is PMSing, constipated or having an exacerbation, well, I know that she is not in her right mind.
I get to feeling so bad, either way. If she is so messed up that she thinks this guy is something, I have such sadness and pity for that. And if I am so fucked up that she thinks this guy worth risking our marriage over, then I am also saddened by this. Am I truly worth that little to her?
I don't think that just because a person is physically unable to leave a relationship, that they can't have checked out already.
I hate what our life has become. I can do chores, I can do projects, I can do the work week, I can even do the nursing duties and even enjoy some of these things, because I feel needed. I feel like I can't be doing wrong, when all I'm doing is good and necessary.
I just can't stand the thought of her carrying on with this guy and getting all titillated by this ex-boyfriend who can't let go of a memory. I can't hide my feelings very well and this is eating me up.
Plants need sunlight, water, soil and room to grow. But if they have all these things they are not yet guaranteed to be healthy and happy. They could be lacking some micro-nutrient or have some unwanted pest that eats them up.
My Boopie plant is withering.
When she revives she can be a prickly rose or a tender blossom. I never know which I am going to get.
I am most assuredly to blame, as I am not providing her with some vital element that she needs. Else, what would she see in this F'ing aging bullshit artist.
Last night we tried for more than an hour to untangle her hair and wound up cutting it and still not getting all the tangles out. She wants to shave her head. I know she will regret it if she does.
In the weeks ahead, post surgery, much may or may not happen. I have a dream of her coming out of it on the operating table and everything being rectified like some fairy tale happy ending. Like a dream, she will arise from the table, rip off the hospital gown, and be wearing her wedding dress.
She will swing her legs down on the floor like nothing and say "let's get out of here." And we will go to Fort Bragg or Half Moon Bay and walk on the beach as we did before. And this is when I get all choked up.
Ah, not emptiness...just terrible sadness.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Robot Song
Since it rained, since it rained the Robot
Got left outside the shed
Got left outside the shed
Thought it was once ingrained inside my head
Despite of what you said, he got
Left outside the shed
Now his wheels are rusty
Since it snowed, since it snowed the Robot
Got left out in the cold, got left out in the cold
His arms no longer fold
And his batteries are old
I never cared much, truth be told
Despite of how you scold
And how you never trust me
In the spring, in the spring the flowers
Burst through the Robot’s head
His legs, made out of lead
Sink in the flower bed
And I wake up, I wake up, I get out of my bed
Put the Robot in the shed
Put the Robot in the shed
And you say you love me
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Friday, March 26, 2010
A Barn, an MRV, Oxygen and a Blow-off Valve
So, this is 2010. I am still alive and married. My wife still has MS and all its craziness. She has moments of clarity and moments of being a "raging cow" (her phrase, coined in a "moment of clarity"). Most of the time she is somewhere in the middle.
As for me, I have a blow off valve which is like this: mostly I curse under my breath, and it keeps me from saying the things out loud that I would say if I didn't relieve the pressure/stress. It is the "evil caregiver" in me that makes me cuss. I have to harness all my superman powers to not get so angry at the MS for stealing my wife's brain that I punch holes in the walls. For her I put on the "yes, honey" routine, so, in that sense, the superman business is an act. In the sense of my daily routine, it's just that, a daily routine. The routine involves me doing everything and watching my wife slowly slip away.
So, we are putting a barn up on our property in hopes to get some animals. My wife loves horses and hopes to one day have one or two. It is so ironic that we moved to this place 2 years ago so we could have animals, and then my wife's health deteriorated so rapidly that now she barely makes it out of bed in a day. Anyway, the barn foundation is costing us a fortune and is going to be so well built that it will be a shame to put up our pipe panel mare motel on it. It deserves a 3 story big 'ol metal building. But we will have animals even if I wind up doing all their care and maintenance.
Yesterday after a shower she couldn't make it back into bed and fell onto the floor while transferring from the shower chair to the bed. I get so frustrated watching her on the floor crying. A family friend who is a retired doctor let us borrow an oxygen generator. While she was on the floor (I cannot lift her up, she weighs 300 lbs) I gave her the O2. It revived her enough to get on her knees and then up onto the bed. It seems that all her problems stem from a lack of brain oxygen.
So she had an MRV at UC Davis, and the doctor found a narrowed right jugular vein and a larger than normal left jugular vein with collaterals. The doppler scan showed very little flow on the right side. She has an appointment for an angioplasty some time in mid-April. By my birthday we will know if this whole CCSVI thing holds any water. Keeping my fingers and all other appendages crossed....Stay tuned.
As for me, I have a blow off valve which is like this: mostly I curse under my breath, and it keeps me from saying the things out loud that I would say if I didn't relieve the pressure/stress. It is the "evil caregiver" in me that makes me cuss. I have to harness all my superman powers to not get so angry at the MS for stealing my wife's brain that I punch holes in the walls. For her I put on the "yes, honey" routine, so, in that sense, the superman business is an act. In the sense of my daily routine, it's just that, a daily routine. The routine involves me doing everything and watching my wife slowly slip away.
So, we are putting a barn up on our property in hopes to get some animals. My wife loves horses and hopes to one day have one or two. It is so ironic that we moved to this place 2 years ago so we could have animals, and then my wife's health deteriorated so rapidly that now she barely makes it out of bed in a day. Anyway, the barn foundation is costing us a fortune and is going to be so well built that it will be a shame to put up our pipe panel mare motel on it. It deserves a 3 story big 'ol metal building. But we will have animals even if I wind up doing all their care and maintenance.
Yesterday after a shower she couldn't make it back into bed and fell onto the floor while transferring from the shower chair to the bed. I get so frustrated watching her on the floor crying. A family friend who is a retired doctor let us borrow an oxygen generator. While she was on the floor (I cannot lift her up, she weighs 300 lbs) I gave her the O2. It revived her enough to get on her knees and then up onto the bed. It seems that all her problems stem from a lack of brain oxygen.
So she had an MRV at UC Davis, and the doctor found a narrowed right jugular vein and a larger than normal left jugular vein with collaterals. The doppler scan showed very little flow on the right side. She has an appointment for an angioplasty some time in mid-April. By my birthday we will know if this whole CCSVI thing holds any water. Keeping my fingers and all other appendages crossed....Stay tuned.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Journal entry for _______ (some time in 2010 "Maybe")
Maybe if I poke, my eye
With a screwdriver I might get to the root of it
Somewhere in my mind--oh
Maybe
With a screwdriver I might get to the root of it
Somewhere in my mind--oh
Maybe
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
The After Christmas Blahs
Who gives a fuck?
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
PMS, More Talk of Divorce, More Tears
I don't think I can handle my situation anymore. My wife says she hates me all the time and has nothing but mean things to say to me. She says she wants to leave, she wishes she never married me, and she has nothing but contempt for the person I am. She says if I don't become a completely different person, she will continue to hate me and plan her escape. She said to research online how to be a husband.
I had to miss work today. It got late because we were arguing about an argument we had last night in which she said that all day long she sits there in bed and just hates me.
I give up. I am not inhuman. She says I am not a man, that I am soulless and don't do anything for her. Although nothing I did triggered this round, it is the stuff that I have neglected or been too busy to do that she is bitching about now. And she attaches all kinds of mean statements to anything she says, to where I can't address the real problem, and I have to confront all the mean things she is saying. And to do this is arguing, which is a no-no.
So, all I get is a wife who thinks I am a jerk, even though my life is devoted to trying to take care of her the best I can. I wake up and empty her commode, I make her breakfast, help her in the shower, make her bed, do her laundry and do any little thing that she asks. I don't make a fuss or get upset that I have to do this, it has become my life to just take care of her.
She absolutely does not think that anything I do is worth a damn and tells me every day. She says she'd be out F***ing someone, anyone else if she were not disabled. She tells me these things knowing that it will hurt me and then tells me to be a man. I don't know what kind of man is expected to take all this abuse from someone who they love and care for.
I know she is not OK. Her MS has fucked up her body, and now it is going after her mind. I can love her for the person I thought she was when I married her, but she tells me she hates the person she married and has nothing but regrets.
Divorce is horrible, and I don't want it. It doesn't solve anything, it is just 2 people giving up. I don't want to give up, it's just that I don't know if there is anything to save. How do you stay married when the person you are married to hates you and everything that you are? Anyone reading this? Didn't think so...
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Friday, December 4, 2009
Enjoy the New Me, Bitches
I can't not be agitated as I sit here and wait for work and think about stuff that pisses me off. I get to work before the gate opens and people who stroll in late get the good work passed to them.
Ok, here's exactly what happened. I, and 3 other techs were out in the shop and waiting for the intercom to page someone to get the one job that came in. I was closest to the door, so I made a mock sprint to be first. When the others fell back I said, "No--let's all go,"and I held the door open for the other two. Well, the service adviser gives the job to the first guy through the door. No "thank you Sparky D" no offer to flip a coin or something. He just takes the work (a major service) and the service advisers laugh at how I got punked. I can sit here and do nothing, I can sit here and be hateful or I can sit here and think of happy thoughts. (Yeah, fucking right.)
Only there aren't many. I passed my ASE's. Whoopie. I still sit here with no work. My wife apologized to me for yesterday's latest session of keeping alive the Thanksgiving Day Giblet Blowout. I think she realizes that it is tearing me down too much and there won't be much left if she keeps going. I have stopped acting up around her, I know she can't take it.
So here's my new plan, which I came up with in response to David's taking my work and my role in letting that happen. I am going to be nicer to my wife and fuck everybody else. I can't care what the world or the little old lady in front of me are doing. I have to be as greedy and selfish as possible and screw the next guy. "Lesson learned." So, enjoy the new me. If it plays in Boopieville, I don't give a fuck where else it don't play..
In an unrelated note: Stanford is not making new appointments and they are starting up a clinical trial related to CCSVI and MS. What this means is my wife will have to wait longer to possibly get in and not necessarily get the surgery which she may or may not require. We have been waiting 2 months for a phone call from the scheduler which now, I suppose, may not come at all. I have calls and emails in to them and they are not responding. I know, they are busy. But my wife is busy progressing with her symptoms daily. She can almost not even transfer from the bed to the wheelchair. I don't know what will happen then. But I will be there, evil inside and nice and sweet outside like a reverse Oreo cookie. Enough bitch-logging for one day. Out
Ok, here's exactly what happened. I, and 3 other techs were out in the shop and waiting for the intercom to page someone to get the one job that came in. I was closest to the door, so I made a mock sprint to be first. When the others fell back I said, "No--let's all go,"and I held the door open for the other two. Well, the service adviser gives the job to the first guy through the door. No "thank you Sparky D" no offer to flip a coin or something. He just takes the work (a major service) and the service advisers laugh at how I got punked. I can sit here and do nothing, I can sit here and be hateful or I can sit here and think of happy thoughts. (Yeah, fucking right.)
Only there aren't many. I passed my ASE's. Whoopie. I still sit here with no work. My wife apologized to me for yesterday's latest session of keeping alive the Thanksgiving Day Giblet Blowout. I think she realizes that it is tearing me down too much and there won't be much left if she keeps going. I have stopped acting up around her, I know she can't take it.
So here's my new plan, which I came up with in response to David's taking my work and my role in letting that happen. I am going to be nicer to my wife and fuck everybody else. I can't care what the world or the little old lady in front of me are doing. I have to be as greedy and selfish as possible and screw the next guy. "Lesson learned." So, enjoy the new me. If it plays in Boopieville, I don't give a fuck where else it don't play..
In an unrelated note: Stanford is not making new appointments and they are starting up a clinical trial related to CCSVI and MS. What this means is my wife will have to wait longer to possibly get in and not necessarily get the surgery which she may or may not require. We have been waiting 2 months for a phone call from the scheduler which now, I suppose, may not come at all. I have calls and emails in to them and they are not responding. I know, they are busy. But my wife is busy progressing with her symptoms daily. She can almost not even transfer from the bed to the wheelchair. I don't know what will happen then. But I will be there, evil inside and nice and sweet outside like a reverse Oreo cookie. Enough bitch-logging for one day. Out
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Is the Dog Going to the Pound?
I don't know, I just know that it's been a week, and every day she still mentions how "Charlie" thinks this or that. Lately, it's "Charlie thinks I should divorce you."
Charlie is an ex-"boyfriend." He has been out of the picture since we were married in 2003. Well, not really. We came back from our honeymoon and there was an answering machine message from him. I was a little taken aback and told my wife that it was time to put that one to rest.
She said she had been stringing him along for the whole time we were together so that he would leave her his life insurance money.
I said, "We are married now. You really need to let that whole thing go."
She agreed to do this. However, two months ago I am standing there, and the phone rings at 8 am on a Monday. It is Charlie leaving a message. I asked her what was up.
She said, "He contacted me again after all this time. I get things from him that you don't give me."
I didn't react too badly, but I was upset. I decided not to pursue it and told her, "Talk to him if you want, I can't stop you."
Now, it seems they are talking constantly about all my fuckups and my bad attitude, which she calls "abuse." I don't do anything for days, and she brings up the last thing I did a week ago and says she is still hurt by it.
Then she tells me her parents are coming down and they are concerned that I am not treating her well. She is now telling everyone how she wants to leave me but can't because she is disabled.
She said, "If I was well I'd leave and not look back," and "I don't love you anymore."
I said we have made love several times since this incident, and yet, you keep bringing it back up.
"Oh, sex...I'd fuck anything..."
So, I guess I'm not special. I guess I just have to accept that she is going to hate me unless I do everything she asks me to and never have a bad attitude about anything.
I know MS is making her life worse by the day. I want to help her. It is just frustrating when nothing helps and she picks on every little thing. I can't make her see that I am not evil, I'm just a person who has problems, too. I swear I do more and more every day to keep her above water, but it's like she is slipping away from me.
I can't take what life is dishing out. I keep on doing the things that need to be done, but with a feeling of futility. My self esteem is in the dirt. I get it. I should suffer because I am an asshole. I am going back into my hole now.
I don't think this blog is such a great idea.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
What to Do?
I got through Thanksgiving, but it wasn't over. Since I didn't do anything bad since the giblet bag blowout, I thought it was over. It wasn't. She must have buried the anger she felt under a one inch layer of smiles just long enough to get through the day and the next two days of my working. But on Saturday night she informed me that she was still very upset and brought back all the same arguments that I thought we had finished on Thurs. I hate to bring this up because I will sound sexist, macho or whatever, but I think she waited until Sat. after it appeared that we wouldn't be "doing it" that night. She will wait for me to make the appropriate overtures and if they aren't made she will get all disgusted and make sure that nothing happens. Like if she doesn't get it, she didn't want it and besides she's pissed and ____ is why. What she doesn't get is that sometimes I get put off by her being so mad at me, that I can't think that she will want any sort of affection from me. She is good at hiding her anger when it isn't practical to have a big blowup. But then PMS shows up and watch out. I don't ever try to argue with her. I get sucked in sometimes because I don't want to think of her as unable to have a conversation in which I don't totally agree with everything she says. Yes and sometimes I do have a bad attitude which I don't hide. But anymore she is so fragile, even though she will rip me a new one. So I walk on eggshells and try not to cuss when I stub my toe. When we do finally do it she will feel much better towards me for a while. All I can do is keep trying to do what she wants and point out to her that I am indeed doing what she wants at any given moment. Or at least behaving acceptably within the given parameters. Am I a whipped bitch or what? I could never intentionally hurt her or try to make her feel bad. It is unfortunate that this occurs despite my trying to keep it from happening. I don't feel any better for having written this. I don't guess I will feel better until something positive happens for her such as getting to use the new shower. Or getting to go to Stanford and trying to fix her MS. I just don't know what to do. I will post later a day in the life of Sparky D (aka Hoodyup) so all can know what I do from the moment I wake up til I fall asleep. Maybe it will make me look better to some or maybe it will expose me for being the wimp that I am. I don't know anymore. I'm no one's hero, that's for sure. I will keep getting up and going on as if I still have a life to live and a wife to love. I hope things get better sometime.
Hi, I'm Andrew, AKA Hoodyup the Evil Caregiver, and I approved this blog post. I may not have been in my right mind at the time, but what's done is done. I stand by my sins. Eppur si muove.
I started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations with life, the universe and everything (not the book by Douglas Adams; that was quite good, actually).
My seemingly charmed life took a turn in 2004 when my wife Sharon was diagnosed with MS. This blog documents the fallout and revisits the past, as well as chronicling my dreams and rants throughout the years.
Be warned - explicit language and content that runs the gamut can be found in these posts, which describe personal events, both real and those dreamed up by my overactive nocturnal psyche.
Also, I use real names whenever possible, so if you see a post with your name on it, it probably refers to you. Unless, of course, you don't know me, in which case it is purely coincidental.
Enjoy your visit. Comment, if you so desire, or lurk privately. This blog can be your guilty pleasure (or displeasure).
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