Working with paranoiacs

If I was in the gym now I'd say I'd hit a plateau. I got a load done yesterday- all important stuff here, haircut, house insurance negotiations (hundreds of pounds involved in a single call), shopping and the usual networking, and totally run out of steam now. I went on a dodgy local photo trip today, it poured the minute I left and then the phone went and was kept on all the way there and back, the house I wanted to take had been rebuilt like a prison and took a wrong turn and sat in traffic for nothing.

I am however now pretty much officially a global warming campaigner, I am not the only one organising a coordinated effort and the main point of mine was to get everyone working together, which has now begun happening. The fact people are dying of cold and starvation from the low carbon economy (read pre-industrial, with extra taxes) is enough for me to work at it regardless of the insults I get daily, as they are simply wrong in any way you look at it and currently literally getting away with murder. Hitler convinced the Germans the Jews were responsible for everything wrong in the world (as many still believe), the Soviets convinced the world they had a wonderful country till Stalin's purges became public, and now they're at it again with global warming, blaming all of mankind. Revolution has always followed a long period of subjugation and revolution they will get.

So when I'm in a plateau, a dead zone or whatever other nautical or navigational metaphor you can think of, my resources are limited. Bear in mind limited energy and anxiety only allow options within certain boundaries, and although I'd be unlikely to drive 50-100 miles just for the heck of it any more it also avoids some social activities locally. These change over time so not permanent by any means, but if I risk going outside them I know the result. Not worth it. But I've been guided twice now outside the road sign area, it can affect every part of my life and I know my ambitions and may get one or more at least. But maybe there really is an intelligence behind all of this and allowing us to live an adventure, and then start helping when it gets off track too far. Films are written with an ending, but life isn't, but when you start seeing whole sections that could have been scripted you start to wonder.

Another thread to the guidance is what many best selling spiritual books say, we are given a lot of our information explaining how we get ideas and no idea where they came from. No coincidence I suspect. My work against global warming liars seemed to happen quite outside my wishes, I just realised when I saw a report once that it couldn't be right as any such evidence would have rung alarm bells in any legal trial yet the scientific community are so above everyone else in understanding they can both write any old shite they like and be trusted for it. But predictions are the line that must not be crossed. The further ahead they are the worse, and by setting up a scenario we can't even prove in our own lifetimes they've totally shown the paucity of their plan. We can't predict climate, full stop. We know of certain cycles that happen every so many thousand years, and they are reliable but not in their magnitude or timing. Ice age, short warm period, ice age. Right from day one more or less. Can we change that? Hell no! They are relying on trust and ignorance, so those with neither are stuck as fighting a load of scared children who think we're mad as 'the sky is falling! Can't you see ?'.
Well I've worked with schizophrenics and this is like having half the world afflicted, it's bloody hard work just for an hour or two and this is like landing on planet Paranoia. I should get a bloody Nobel Prize I reckon...

Mental illness analysed

It was 955 posts already to the last one, not 916, they've really mounted up. Just get that correction out of the way. I was just reading something that reminded me how much Jewish humour is centred round mental illness. I said that people aren't bipolar, batteries are, but they fixed them when they started adding lithium. That is a typical example. Woody Allen made his millions purely by expressing neurosis, Seinfeld, the new series I love the Big Bang theory taking the mickey out of autistic spectrum disorders, and most of my own jokes since starting school. The world is a threatening place and anyone that sensitive reacts in ways that can only be joked about otherwise we'd all pack it in.

Jews don't get drunk as a rule, if they suffer they either complain or make jokes about it, usually a combination of both. I carry on this tradition and was so interested in mental health I made a profession treating it, as a calling. We are trained to see the funny side of problems so the sufferers can, although I don't laugh or make fart jokes as I would if not working. They do have boundaries. Maybe if I set myself up as the childish humour cure and made cracks about wetting pants, skid marks and opening the window maybe it would distract some people from their problems enough to distance themselves from them. Or maybe not. So I do it here instead. And everywhere else. But technically mental problems are only funny as an observer. If you have them they are no fun at all even when we make fun of ourselves. I'd rather not see crowds as threatening or travelling as a potential for disaster but if I can tell stories about looking for public toilets or queuing for hours to change flights home it can make it sound almost dramatic. In fact these experiences are hell, being stuck in any situation you can't escape is the ultimate driver of severe stress and easier to spend your life avoiding it rather than ever become immune to it, if that was even possible without tablets.

So although we can joke about counting cars and road signs and memorising phone and car numbers the actual reality is besides being able to recall lists from about the age of three, there is no other benefit in having a sharp mind as the rest means we notice every event and feeling and can't turn the reactions down. It also drives genius but in a world generally driven by averageness and mediocraty most people are prepared to put up with almost anything while we few can't bear the slightest discomfort, like the princess and the pea. But while royalty can just about escape the real world we are in the middle of it, and besides turning down 99% of invitations and avoiding half of the areas we live in then we are totally exposed to it all, worms and warts. But take away the heightened awareness and you become a zombie so hard to win. So make jokes about being stuck on the motorway, visiting psychiatrists, side effects of tablets etc but it's the price many of us seem to have to pay for our greater awareness of everything. Each time I read a list of famous sufferers from mental illness I wonder how many actually didn't have it.

So to conclude the story, my friends past and present include (at least) three bipolar, two psychotic depression, three paranoid schizophrenics, two depressives, an epileptic, an anxiety disorder, and probably quite a few more I've lost track of. Some also have none of the above and strangely enough tend to be the ones who disappear while the others are usually happy to hang around. I wonder if anyone else who hasn't actually met their friends in hospital as many do has the same collection or somehow I seem to have been fed these people, even though most had nothing wrong when I met them so can't say I had any part in it. I can't see my anxiety changing as it's no less part of me as my eyes, unless enlightenment is real and happens to me. Now if I became enlightened and kept it then I'd be a real curiosity, although I don't think it's meant to be possible to have both. Yet...

Mental...

They're talking about Boris Johnson on the radio. Di man is bombaclaat. Im nuttin but pussy maan. I suppose if I'm going to call names I may as well make them more colourful than prat, wanker and shithead, but this total twat is standing against Ken Livingstone but wants to keep the congestion charge! What is the fucking point of opposing a total arse like Ken and parrot his only bleeding policy?

OK, I've got that out of the way, there's little else to say. The dry and sometimes sunny weather has had me out with the camera all over the place, for the two days I wasn't working, and I'm reading this on IE7, my second try as the last couldn't cope with the old computer. All the print is darker (quite useful since my close vision became a little more distant) although I may need to ditch the Yahoo toolbar as it does all that jazz itself now. Otherwise my spiritual journey has got nowhere, although the nightly hypnosis has been making me sleep well so far. Interestingly although I write in little notebooks as well as here (including pictures) I have run out of material for them but not for here. My only inspiration for blogging is the ability to type and the rest just happens, as you'd expect from the quality. I think I never swore in my life in writing till catching the rude bug here, although I suppose if I'd call Ken Livingstone something I'd wipe off the inside of my toilet in person I can in writing, although I draw the line at certain words. I was brought up properly you know.

My list of plans is crawling ahead although the doctor decided not to add my tranquilisers to this prescription. I wonder why he didn't warn me first when I spoke to him although I may survive without them again. If I could introduce something else orally besides tablets more often it would have a similar therapeutic effect. and at 3.30PM today Paul Ross called Alison Bell (on LBC radio) 'The Grinch with a vagina'. Unscripted methinks, she nearly shat herself and he was very embarrassed after 'you said the V word!?'. I was pissing myself. She professionally carried on and said how entertaining he was, while thinking how to resign without losing too much money...

Otherwise the daily and weekly routines are dragging on unabated, no relief from anticlimaxes and non events, I emailed a heap of people, known to me and celebrities last week and just one replied, who was one of the celebrities. What a record. People I knew ages ago, two more celebrities, and a few on Facebook. Not a bloody squeak. I reply to every email I get, assuming I know them and usually if they are for me and not a million other people. Now if I live for long enough firstly my old friend who went abroad will return (although miles from here), and I may meet someone else to hang out with. One celebrity is local and seems like good company, but nothing there assuming he doesn't have a thousand emails before he gets to mine. I just sent another to someone who is both a celebrity and an old friend, I was already in touch with him but just found him on Facebook which is quite useful except women don't use their maiden names (how many men want to meet women they knew who are married?).
That's one way women have the advantage over us, we are who we always were and can be found easily, they change theirs (apart from maybe two I knew who remain single) and although may divorce are impossible to find outside Friends Reunited. One there is still interested in me but not available.

One thing I am not going insane whatever some people suggest. I have one single fault up there, anxiety. No one ever got put away for anxiety, although many put themselves away by hiding at home most of the time. That isn't madness, just a weakness. Given a choice I'd rather keep my intellect and suffer than lose it and be free to travel anywhere like I used to as I'd be far less productive and achieve little. At home all my talents can be used and although I can't demonstrate them in so many places any more that may happen again. I'm wondering if the last two people I didn't hear back from did it because of that but if anyone's that judgemental they really aren't worth the effort. I avoid people if they're boring. Any other fault doesn't bother me unless it puts me or my property in danger. But it scares so many people they assume you're weird and maybe they'll catch it. I wish everyone like that did for a day just so they know it's totally outside our control and as real as any other symptom. I see it change and come and go and is really unrelated to anything I do, it's just an internal problem that is now becoming seen as actual brain abnormalities. That makes perfect sense as any organ that's malformed isn't going to work properly and the brain can produce mental as well as physical symptoms, and mine does both as it can't control my heart rate any more, my tablets need to limit that when required.

Well, the walk I was going to have is on the cards 2 hours late and I won't go very far. Busy working the next couple of days so spending these hours of freedom while I can. And guess what, I'm not getting paid for any of it either. That's how it works...

Mental problems

My mind works in some pretty dubious ways. Thinking of what I was going to write about I realised it was probably more interesting to mention various descriptions of masturbation than repeating the same old actions and reactions I seem to have been doing since I was about 25. Twanging the wire, flogging the mutton, pulling the pud, jerkin the gherkin, wristjob, hand shandy, self abuse, mrs palm and her five daughters, shaking hands with the unemployed etc etc.
Now I've got that lot out of the way I suppose I can carry on with the mental masturbation. Would anyone really accept it was possible to receive messages from other life forms? I know I can from humans but more than that remains hidden very well. But the fact one contactee told me what happened to another, who then repeated an almost identical scene on his second visit does make me wonder, and the fact I am one of the closest to these guys without actually seeing one myself makes me wish they'd get on and reveal themselves properly, to me at least.

Due to work cancellations I traded money for time last week and spent it all in Golders Green filming different parts of it. I decided even though I took every local road on VHS I may as well get a cheap digital video and make some decent films online as no one else has of London. It may even get me a proper commission. This is something I've done for 7 years so have all the tools to do a proper job. Now I need to see how long they'll let me post from an unlimited source of good quality files. I also saw some more spiritual and supernatural lessons on youtube, none yet have done a bleeding thing but if I learn enough I only really need one that works. I also (not in the mafia sense) eliminated another woman last week. As a result I asked out the next in line, no fucking reply. I am now left with choice 3 who has one asset. The best one but no others, literally. My normal standard in that sense but attractive. I will see, fate decided who yet again and I am too desperate to pick and choose between inadequate and absolutely fuck all.

Thank everyone for all the recent comments, I have been pretty busy reading other blogs, of course they vary greatly but a few have been worth the visits and have thousands more to try. It also shows despite seeming similar and ordinary what total cack some people think of when it comes to sharing their incredibly boring or weird interests. Besides the ones that are only advertising, we have the single interest type, nearly all nerd related, my IT heaven (not), MP3 players anonymous and which vibrator today? No thanks on all. Then the adult juveniles using chatspeak, drugs and talking about music you are likely to hear in the local pub only. Ben (sorry in advance) still seems to do anything rather than relax and has been to more venues in 25 years than most small towns do in their whole life. For goodness sake, and all of ours, get a damn girlfriend already! Like he ever reads this... Sleeping like a blog link will explain all. And why do people I know not only stop blogging but delete them as well? If I paint or write something it's up to others to judge, once I've released it it stays beyond the end of my life. Kepp your stuff, who knows who may find it later.
There are, thank goodness, some interesting and intelligent people around but few in my area now. And most suffer from mental illness as well. It's like once you can see the world clearly you can't handle it. Now if I lived in the sticks or on an island I'd be fine as no crowds. But put an agoraphobic in London and you may as well put a dirt phobic in India (sorry any Indians, you know I'm right though). No political correctness here as you know. But as I am stuck here I share my abilities with others however I can and my disabilities limit the ways. Everyone's the same but only mentally ill where one becomes almost impossible to do. It changes on its own and if it improves very good, but it's not up to us to fix it, as another blogger has pointed out. One decent woman who understands and I'll not really give a damn. No one else to impress than that so maybe I'll find a candidate round here. Given a choice between a normal bore and a phobic genius some women must prefer the conversation side?