WE HAVE THE CURE

This is bullshit. The cure for what? The cure for my sense of rambling idiocy? I was browsing through some photos of paintball games past and found some with Pierce & John together and a game that I didn't attend. Very unusual. I feel like crap, anyway, with this crud, cold, allergy attack or whatever. So seeing the pictures destroyed me. Now this is notihng new. Anytime I see photos of Pierce it is cause for breakdown. But that's only part of what started me writing today.

When a man's an empty kettle he should be on his mettle,
And yet I'm torn apart.
Just because I'm presumin' that I could be kind-a-human,
If I only had a heart.

I'd be tender - I'd be gentle and awful sentimental
regarding Love and Art.
I'd be friends with the sparrows ... and the boys who shoots the arrows,

If I only had a heart.

Picture me - a balcony.  Above a voice sings low.

"Wherefore art thou, Romeo?"

I hear a beat.... How sweet.

Just to register emotion, jealousy - devotion,
And really feel the part.
I could stay young and chipper and I'd lock it with a zipper,
If I only had a heart.

So this is how I feel part of the time. That part of me that wants to be romantic lives in these lyrics. Until it gets to the part about emotions. That's when I flunk out. No, I think that maybe I would fare better here with the straw man...

I could while away the hours, conferrin' with the flowers

Consultin' with the rain.

And my head I'd be scratchin' while my thoughts were busy hatchin'

If I only had a brain.

I'd unravel every riddle for any individ'le,

In trouble or in pain.

With the thoughts you'll be thinkin' you could be another Lincoln

If you only had a brain. 

Oh, I could tell you why The ocean's near the shore.

I could think of things I never thunk before.

And then I'd sit, and think some more.

I would not be just a nothin' my head all full of stuffin'
My heart all full of pain.
I would dance and be merry, life would be a ding-a-derry,
If I only had a brain

Yes, my friends, the Scarecrow seems to fit me to a tee. But should I pass over the Lion as though he doesn't exist in this chain of unbridled thought? His song was certainly most entertaining, especially in the Bert Lahr version when he "rrrruffed" so convincingly, (read erotically).

 Yeh, it's sad, believe me, Missy, When you're born to be a sissy

Without the vim and verve.

But I could show my prowess, be a lion not a mou-ess

If I only had the nerve.

I'm afraid there's no denyin' I'm just a dandelion,

A fate I don't deserve.

I'd be brave as a blizzard....

Tin Man

I'd be gentle as a lizard....

Scarecrow

I'd be clever as a gizzard....

Dorothy

If the Wizard is a Wizard who will serve.

Scarecrow

Then I'm sure to get a brain,

Tin Man

a heart,

Dorothy

a home,

Lion

the nerve...

Now in this song we learn that the Lion places a high value on nerve, as he percieves it. As such, he will risk leaving his forest to travel with three complete strangers at the slim chance he may get some nerve. Poor Lion.

Which brings me to where I am now. Just where? Will anyone ever understand mania? Will they ever understand the vicious "static" that runs through your head; so much that you can even listen to the radio when driving in the car? Will they ever understand that same static is what keeps you from paying complete attention to what they're saying. People get insulted and what do you say to them? "Uh, I'm sorry but the constant froth of mixed static and internal dialog just prevents me from locking on to the first few worlds of your sentence". They either don't understand or they are convinced you're a fucking lunatic. And you ARE!

Thirteen years ago... THIRTEEN, DAMMIT! Thirteen years ago I met one of the kindest & knowledgeable men in the medical mental health profession. I was in complete pain and it was his job to evaluate me for Social Security Disability. Dr. D. did my evaluation and my followups and counseled me through what was going to happen to me over time. He treated me when nobody else would. He was there until the day he retired. This was a bad day for me. Doctor change...

So since then I have been running under the radar. Trying to stay within the realms of sanity, take my meds and fight with my demons as they come at me. I have a new Doc who knows now what the deal is. He didn't until yesterday.

So, to the meat of it; The Social Security Administration decided, after thirteen years, to dump me off. Huh? Yep. They told me that they did a medical review and said I was not cured, but I was able to go get a job. Not a job like I USED to have, mind you... No 65-70K for you. I guess they want me to push a janitors broom or flip burgers. I'm just trying to figure out what to put on the job application for what I've been doing for the past thirteen years.

"Uh, Mr. John... I see here a rather large gap in your employment history. Can you tell me what you've been doing ffor the past thirteen of so years?" "Oh, I see... Mental Disability. Right. We're gonna have to get back to you on that. The guard here will escort you out." "But all I wanted was a bag boy job!"

No benefits means no doctor. No doctor means no prescriptions. No prescriptions means manic episodes. No prescriptions means depressive episodes. Depressive episodes mean suicidal ideologies and thoughts.

WHO IN THE WORLD WOULD DO SUCH A THING IN GOOD CONSCIENCE!?!

A Sportster and Key West sound so irresponsible...

Watch out for Dad, Pierce... "The highway's jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive."