I've been wanting to get less distracted by mundane things, but I have to admit that, although I do consider life a spectator sport, I do enjoy watching actual spectator sports, too. So it wasn't the greatest timing when the Vuelta a Espana and the 2017 Taipei Universiade both began on August 20.
The Vuelta is the third of three, three-week grand tours of cycling held annually, and I told myself I wouldn't follow it because I already watched this year's Giro d'Italia in the spring, and the Tour de France in July. They were grand distractions.
And I'm not following the Vuelta, per se, but I keep having it on in the background. Even though I'm not really paying attention to it, it's still just as much a distraction. I don't know why I don't just turn it off. I feel like I might miss something? Like I'm not already missing my life as it sieves through my fingers?
It's not like cycling is very exciting to watch. It's probably among the most boring sports to watch unless you're a hardcore fan and know the teams and the riders, along with their pets and hobbies. I know just enough to have it on in the background and be interested in the rare dramatic moment or development.
I'm so easily distracted, I'll likely continue having it on in the background for the remaining week and a half of the race. And when it's over, it will be a great relief to have my nights freed up, even though I was the one tying them up in the first place.
The Universiade just ended on the 30th. It was a major sporting event, the equivalent of the Olympics at the university level and is the second largest multi-discipline sporting event in the world after the Olympics.
Since it was held locally, it was a big deal and several local channels carried a multitude of events throughout the days. Even Eurosport, the channel which carries the Vuelta, aired a bunch of Universiade events live and in replay with English commentary.
Being distracted by the Universiade was more justified since it was local and it was exciting to watch. I did have trouble with my allegiances, though. Taiwan, U.S., South Korea, Japan? I'd have to tell myself that I couldn't, for example, root for South Korea or Japan over Taiwan or the U.S., but then didn't mind if the result was counter.
I think Taiwan did itself proud hosting the Universiade, with the notable exception of the opening ceremony face-palm when political protesters regarding a relatively petty local issue were able to disrupt the athletes' entry into the municipal stadium.
Fortunately that occurred so early that Taipei was able to redeem itself with smooth-running competitions for the rest of the games. There have been criticisms that come with any large sporting event, but all-in-all I get the impression that the athletes were satisfied, and when not focused on competition had a good experience here.
Thursday, August 31, 2017
Monday, August 28, 2017
Things are going well after over a week of severely cutting back on drinking. It still stands, though, that anything I say about drinking should be taken with a grain of salt. I don't know how things will be a week from now or a month or six from now.
That's the insidious part of alcoholism, I suppose. I can't discount the possibility, I can't even eliminate from imagination that at some point I'll be back to drinking near a bottle a day.
So instead of drinking shot by shot through a bottle over the course of a day, now I sip through a single shot (4 sips per shot) right before doing something that forces me to stop, either going to sleep or going out. I drink the single shots telling myself I'm gradually decreasing intake, rather than going cold turkey which might create more tension over time.
I find that upon committing to cutting back, I mostly don't even want to drink. Without that commitment, it's the opposite; the simplest suggestion or thought has me reaching for a drink. Someone drinking on TV is an invitation to join in.
Really I don't like the way it makes me feel. That first sip, even a tiny one, is harsh to the system and raises my body temperature uncomfortably. It makes me wonder why I'm doing this. I liked the way I felt before I took the sip better.
However, one alcoholic trait that remains strong is that once I start, it's a slippery slope. That's why I try to only pour a shot right before I plan to do something that precludes further drinking.
If I start and stay home, I will have sipped through 3 or 4 shots without much thought. That's still less than I was drinking before, but by that time the amount is immaterial. I'm in the grip of habit.
That's the insidious part of alcoholism, I suppose. I can't discount the possibility, I can't even eliminate from imagination that at some point I'll be back to drinking near a bottle a day.
So instead of drinking shot by shot through a bottle over the course of a day, now I sip through a single shot (4 sips per shot) right before doing something that forces me to stop, either going to sleep or going out. I drink the single shots telling myself I'm gradually decreasing intake, rather than going cold turkey which might create more tension over time.
I find that upon committing to cutting back, I mostly don't even want to drink. Without that commitment, it's the opposite; the simplest suggestion or thought has me reaching for a drink. Someone drinking on TV is an invitation to join in.
Really I don't like the way it makes me feel. That first sip, even a tiny one, is harsh to the system and raises my body temperature uncomfortably. It makes me wonder why I'm doing this. I liked the way I felt before I took the sip better.
However, one alcoholic trait that remains strong is that once I start, it's a slippery slope. That's why I try to only pour a shot right before I plan to do something that precludes further drinking.
If I start and stay home, I will have sipped through 3 or 4 shots without much thought. That's still less than I was drinking before, but by that time the amount is immaterial. I'm in the grip of habit.
Physically I started feeling better almost immediately. The stomach and intestinal issues disappeared within days and appetite has more or less returned. Is such a quick recovery suspicious? Maybe. Also maybe alcohol creates such stress on the gut that when it stops, the end of the distress comes quickly. How would I know? I ain't no doc.
Sleep has been alright, but not perfect. Perfect sleep? What the hell is that anyway? Certainly the decrease in alcohol must have some immediate effect on my sleeping patterns. Maybe 'alright' sleep is it.
Thursday, August 24, 2017
Where I am in life is the direct result of how I've lived my life with an affirmative aspiration or goal to commit suicide. Most everyone has an aspiration towards what they want to be. Most are socially acceptable. Mine is one that is not.
I don't know if I'm going to reach my goal. Many people don't reach theirs. But not reaching mine has consequences. People who don't have a specific aspiration still are or can be content, to varying extents, to float along.
The way I've lived my life precludes floating along indefinitely. If I don't commit suicide by choice, then I'll eventually reach circumstances where I'll feel it's the only option. That was the design. That was all the sabotaging I've done all through my life.
When it hit me that alcohol wasn't going to kill me and I'd have to do it, I balked. Isn't there any other way? It took a sleepless night of calm reflection to realize I didn't even want "any other way". That's part of the design, too. Run through the scenarios of re-entering living life, and nothing appeals. I don't even want to.
I can't suddenly decide that I want to live and re-enter living life. The thought only occurred to me because of fear and attachments. It is scary facing the end of one's life. And the attachment is primarily to these senses and this perspective that I call me, not to the stuff of the world. It's all I know and it's all going to disappear, and I'm the one who has to make it happen.
Anyway, I have to work on unraveling the routine of distractions that has come to make up my life. Or is it distractions of routine? Same difference.
Given its druthers, without external obligations or responsibilities, my daily life falls into routine. It creates its own things, a schedule, that it has to do. Much of it trivial and ridiculous, including being ruled by TV. This is a big problem.
The routine gives me something to do, creating a false sense of purpose and a conveyor belt to tomorrow, distracting me from figuring out that suicide is the only next step.
I don't know if I'm going to reach my goal. Many people don't reach theirs. But not reaching mine has consequences. People who don't have a specific aspiration still are or can be content, to varying extents, to float along.
The way I've lived my life precludes floating along indefinitely. If I don't commit suicide by choice, then I'll eventually reach circumstances where I'll feel it's the only option. That was the design. That was all the sabotaging I've done all through my life.
When it hit me that alcohol wasn't going to kill me and I'd have to do it, I balked. Isn't there any other way? It took a sleepless night of calm reflection to realize I didn't even want "any other way". That's part of the design, too. Run through the scenarios of re-entering living life, and nothing appeals. I don't even want to.
I can't suddenly decide that I want to live and re-enter living life. The thought only occurred to me because of fear and attachments. It is scary facing the end of one's life. And the attachment is primarily to these senses and this perspective that I call me, not to the stuff of the world. It's all I know and it's all going to disappear, and I'm the one who has to make it happen.
Anyway, I have to work on unraveling the routine of distractions that has come to make up my life. Or is it distractions of routine? Same difference.
Given its druthers, without external obligations or responsibilities, my daily life falls into routine. It creates its own things, a schedule, that it has to do. Much of it trivial and ridiculous, including being ruled by TV. This is a big problem.
The routine gives me something to do, creating a false sense of purpose and a conveyor belt to tomorrow, distracting me from figuring out that suicide is the only next step.
Sunday, August 20, 2017
The drinking was supposed to be the back-up plan. If I kept not ending my life, then eventually my health would fail from the constant drinking. That was the hare-brained theory.
But that testimony in the previous post makes a lot of sense to me, and it makes sense to 100% accept that I'm not going to die from alcohol-related health complications. The best I could expect from continuing to drink like that might be a long and painful existence that I'm possibly already feeling. Yea, I don't need that.
So the first conclusion is that constant drinking has no purpose, and I should stop. Now I have to face the truth of my alcoholism, which I never felt was a problem nor an addiction. It was a tool, a habit, something I did. I can stop any day. Well, it's any day.
I'm not going to assume it's going to be easy. I'm not going to try to go cold turkey. I think it's something I'll just have to deal with and observe week after week and any assessment, especially feeling good, will have to be taken with a grain of salt.
The second conclusion is that if I'm going to commit suicide, I can't rely on a back-up plan. That's pretty much what I've been doing. I've gone completely slack about having to actually do it. I was just letting the water flow under the bridge because I could let it. And the water's harmless if I'm sitting on the bridge.
For the past however many years I've been distracting myself, listening to music, collecting K-pop, cycling, running, maintaining mindfulness practice, watching sports and reading countless books in libraries, all the while drinking, drinking, drinking, thinking it's gotta kill me hopefully sooner rather than later.
It was laziness. Fading focus. I got sucked into enjoying just being able to live without ambition or wanting anything.
I wasn't having doubts or second thoughts about it. I want to die. This is for what I've been living my life. The exact place where I am in life is the result of having suicide as the affirmative goal. It's what this whole blog is supposed to be about.
So what I mentioned flippantly in the previous post about having to do it myself, was actually a reality-shattering wake-up call, prompting me to stop drinking and realize that I can't just be sitting around on this, distracting myself and filling time.
But that testimony in the previous post makes a lot of sense to me, and it makes sense to 100% accept that I'm not going to die from alcohol-related health complications. The best I could expect from continuing to drink like that might be a long and painful existence that I'm possibly already feeling. Yea, I don't need that.
So the first conclusion is that constant drinking has no purpose, and I should stop. Now I have to face the truth of my alcoholism, which I never felt was a problem nor an addiction. It was a tool, a habit, something I did. I can stop any day. Well, it's any day.
I'm not going to assume it's going to be easy. I'm not going to try to go cold turkey. I think it's something I'll just have to deal with and observe week after week and any assessment, especially feeling good, will have to be taken with a grain of salt.
The second conclusion is that if I'm going to commit suicide, I can't rely on a back-up plan. That's pretty much what I've been doing. I've gone completely slack about having to actually do it. I was just letting the water flow under the bridge because I could let it. And the water's harmless if I'm sitting on the bridge.
For the past however many years I've been distracting myself, listening to music, collecting K-pop, cycling, running, maintaining mindfulness practice, watching sports and reading countless books in libraries, all the while drinking, drinking, drinking, thinking it's gotta kill me hopefully sooner rather than later.
It was laziness. Fading focus. I got sucked into enjoying just being able to live without ambition or wanting anything.
I wasn't having doubts or second thoughts about it. I want to die. This is for what I've been living my life. The exact place where I am in life is the result of having suicide as the affirmative goal. It's what this whole blog is supposed to be about.
So what I mentioned flippantly in the previous post about having to do it myself, was actually a reality-shattering wake-up call, prompting me to stop drinking and realize that I can't just be sitting around on this, distracting myself and filling time.
Thursday, August 17, 2017
I've been feeling like crap starting this past weekend, along with two nights of complete insomnia. Then after a day or two of my anus feeling like it was going to explode, I took some Imodium multi-symptom relief (Diarrhea PLUS *Cramps & Pressure, *Gas, *Bloating) that I brought with me from the U.S.
It's over-the-counter, but I'm suspicious and wary about the U.S. pharmaceutical industry. It's obvious that profit is the most important thing to them, so I'm reluctant to take their products just because I'm feeling a bit off. I have to be pretty desperate and well into suffering to reach for the Imodium.
I write shit like this and then I realize I'm just repeating myself. Just a few posts back and I've already written what I'm experiencing now. It's chronic. The misery, the suffering, the realization that alcohol is probably at the root of it; variations on a theme.
I was desperate enough to take the Imodium and was feeling bad enough to drink as little as possible today. Even that I've done before, I know I've written about it.
I finally found a description on an internet forum of what happens when you drink a bottle of liquor a day for years that matches my experience. The question was about how long people can live (minor spelling and grammar edits):
Good question. Far longer than you might think. Depending on how well they take care of themselves, whether or not they have other diseases and barring drunken accidents they could very easily live for many years that way. People are a lot harder to kill than is generally believed. That being said, under the right conditions and keeping in mind that everyone’s body is different, a person could easily drink themselves to death in a relatively short amount of time. It really just depends.
A person who drinks that much daily will be experiencing daily diarrhea, dehydration, organ swelling, hemorrhoids, vomiting up of blood, vomiting, morning shakes, possibly seizures. They risk cancers, lesions and outright destruction of their entire digestive tract from mouth to anus. They run their liver ragged and inflame their pancreas often developing untreated diabetes. Its a long, painful death for all involved. I know because I drank a 5th of hard liquor every day for many years. I have done every drug and have been addicted to most of them at one time or another and can tell you from personal experience and from watching other alcoholics in rehabs and hospitals that alcohol is by far the most destructive and dangerous drug on a long enough time scale and we haven’t even touched on what it does to relationships and its costs to society.
Aside from alcohol, I don't take drugs. No addictions. No known disease and relatively good health runs through the family. When I drink, I don't engage in dangerous behavior. I don't get drunk per se, and every night I drink until I shut down my computer and wash my shot glass.
Reasonably athletic until recently when I couldn't be anymore. Probably because of the alcohol. My nutrition I'm sure leaves a lot to be desired, and has only gotten worse with the inability to eat. Also probably because of alcohol.
I can relate to the daily diarrhea, organ swelling (I have a perpetual paunch and I hardly eat anything), vomiting. The destruction of digestive tract resonates.
Much of what he writes resonates and suggests that my drinking is probably not going to kill me. It will just continue to bring misery and suffering. If I want to die, I'm going to have to take it into my own hands, so to speak.
And I have been thinking about it a lot recently even though I haven't mentioned anything (I probably actually have). Anything I have to say about suicide I've said before. I've just been giving it a harder look and realizing shit's got to get real.
It's over-the-counter, but I'm suspicious and wary about the U.S. pharmaceutical industry. It's obvious that profit is the most important thing to them, so I'm reluctant to take their products just because I'm feeling a bit off. I have to be pretty desperate and well into suffering to reach for the Imodium.
I write shit like this and then I realize I'm just repeating myself. Just a few posts back and I've already written what I'm experiencing now. It's chronic. The misery, the suffering, the realization that alcohol is probably at the root of it; variations on a theme.
I was desperate enough to take the Imodium and was feeling bad enough to drink as little as possible today. Even that I've done before, I know I've written about it.
I finally found a description on an internet forum of what happens when you drink a bottle of liquor a day for years that matches my experience. The question was about how long people can live (minor spelling and grammar edits):
Good question. Far longer than you might think. Depending on how well they take care of themselves, whether or not they have other diseases and barring drunken accidents they could very easily live for many years that way. People are a lot harder to kill than is generally believed. That being said, under the right conditions and keeping in mind that everyone’s body is different, a person could easily drink themselves to death in a relatively short amount of time. It really just depends.
A person who drinks that much daily will be experiencing daily diarrhea, dehydration, organ swelling, hemorrhoids, vomiting up of blood, vomiting, morning shakes, possibly seizures. They risk cancers, lesions and outright destruction of their entire digestive tract from mouth to anus. They run their liver ragged and inflame their pancreas often developing untreated diabetes. Its a long, painful death for all involved. I know because I drank a 5th of hard liquor every day for many years. I have done every drug and have been addicted to most of them at one time or another and can tell you from personal experience and from watching other alcoholics in rehabs and hospitals that alcohol is by far the most destructive and dangerous drug on a long enough time scale and we haven’t even touched on what it does to relationships and its costs to society.
Aside from alcohol, I don't take drugs. No addictions. No known disease and relatively good health runs through the family. When I drink, I don't engage in dangerous behavior. I don't get drunk per se, and every night I drink until I shut down my computer and wash my shot glass.
Reasonably athletic until recently when I couldn't be anymore. Probably because of the alcohol. My nutrition I'm sure leaves a lot to be desired, and has only gotten worse with the inability to eat. Also probably because of alcohol.
I can relate to the daily diarrhea, organ swelling (I have a perpetual paunch and I hardly eat anything), vomiting. The destruction of digestive tract resonates.
Much of what he writes resonates and suggests that my drinking is probably not going to kill me. It will just continue to bring misery and suffering. If I want to die, I'm going to have to take it into my own hands, so to speak.
And I have been thinking about it a lot recently even though I haven't mentioned anything (I probably actually have). Anything I have to say about suicide I've said before. I've just been giving it a harder look and realizing shit's got to get real.
Wednesday, August 09, 2017
2016 mix CDs
These 2016 CD mixes of my vanity project to make mixes of every year I've been alive took months of "little tweaks" to be satisfied with them. Maybe not "satisfied", but rather that I reached the point where I got tired of making any more changes.
Still all K-pop, although I did manage to fit in a David Bowie track from his last album; that was going to happen no matter what. I was concerned that it would stick out like a sore thumb, but I think I put it in a sequence of songs (the last five actually, with their minor feels) that creates an appropriate atmosphere without getting depressing. That song is probably the most emotional regarding his cancer and facing dying.
If I do this again for 2017, I think I'll make all effort to make it a single disc or not at all. I don't even know if that's even feasible. Looking at the rejected songs for 2016, they could fill a third CD and it still would have been pretty strong by my estimation. That's why it's hard to say I'm fully satisfied with the end result, a lot was left off.
The "unofficial stage mix" videos that are linked are fan made so it is left to be seen whether they get deleted in the long run. Still, they are so brilliantly done by this particular user that I thought they are worth linking at this point.
The transitions are so smooth that it's like watching a magic show. What's astounding is how the editor matched shots from multiple performances from different music programs (different camera crews and directors) and made the transitions look more like morphs.
2016 mix CD, part one (zip download):
1. Russian Roulette (Red Velvet) (full stage camcorder, Seulgi focus fancam, 2x speed version for people short on time)
2. Jealous 질투 (U Sung Eun x Kisum)
3. Sting 찔려 (Stellar) (choreography version)
4. No Oh Oh 아니야 (CLC) (choreography version)
5. Good Luck (AoA) (full stage camcorder)
6. Very Very Very (I.O.I) (full stage camcorder, unofficial stage mix)
7. Help Me (Brave Girls) (lyric video) (audio only)
8. To the Beautiful You (Wonder Girls)
9. So Good (Hyosung (Secret)) (lyric video) (audio only)
10. The Rain (Ladies' Code) (full stage camcorder)
11. Bambamhae (feat. Mad Clown/prod. by Gil (LeeSsang) (Yuk Ji Dam)
12. Day of Excess (Miryo (Brown Eyed Girls)) (lyric video) (audio only)
13. Free Time (Kisum) (audio only)
14. Are You Hungry? (EXID)
15. Next Page (Twice) (lyric video) (official audio)
16. Lip 2 Lip (Nine Muses A)
17. ViViD (HeeJin (LOOΠΔ))
18. Come In (Two X) (lyric video) (audio only)
19. Secret (Cosmic Girls)
20. Love Like This (Hyolin (Sistar))
21. I Do (Jeon Ji Yoon (ex-4minute))
22. Dollar Days (David Bowie) (official audio)
23. Missing U (Lee Hi) (official audio)
2016 mix CD, part two:
1. Magnet (Jeon Ji Yoon (ex-4minute))
2. Windy Day (Oh My Girl) (full stage camcorder, unofficial stage mix)
3. You Are the Moon (DIA (BinChaenHyunSeu))
4. High Heels (Brave Girls)
5. I'm Jelly Baby (AoA Cream) (full stage camcorder)
6. Around You (HyunJin (LOOΠΔ))
7. You're the Best (Mamamoo) (adlib compilation, full stage camcorder)
8. Keep On Doin' (Luna (f(x))
9. Shooting Love (Laboum) (unofficial stage mix, full stage camcorder)
10. Hate (Melody Day) (audio only)
11. Why So Lonely? (Wonder Girls)
12. Do As I Say (I.O.I) (lyric video) (audio only)
13. And July (feat. Dean, DJ Friz) (Heize)
14. 13 months, 32 Days (DIA (L.U.B.))
15. Only One (EXID) (lyric video) (Solji x Hani audio only)
16. Let Me In (HaSeul (LOOΠΔ))
17. Hoo Hoo Hoo (NC.A) (lyric video) (official audio)
18. I Like That (Sistar)
19. Ya Heart (Dal Shabet) (audio only)
20. Walkak (Baechigi) (audio only)
21. Smile (Jeon So Yeon)
22. TT (Twice) (full stage camcorder, unofficial stage mix)
2015 mix CD, part 2
Still all K-pop, although I did manage to fit in a David Bowie track from his last album; that was going to happen no matter what. I was concerned that it would stick out like a sore thumb, but I think I put it in a sequence of songs (the last five actually, with their minor feels) that creates an appropriate atmosphere without getting depressing. That song is probably the most emotional regarding his cancer and facing dying.
If I do this again for 2017, I think I'll make all effort to make it a single disc or not at all. I don't even know if that's even feasible. Looking at the rejected songs for 2016, they could fill a third CD and it still would have been pretty strong by my estimation. That's why it's hard to say I'm fully satisfied with the end result, a lot was left off.
The "unofficial stage mix" videos that are linked are fan made so it is left to be seen whether they get deleted in the long run. Still, they are so brilliantly done by this particular user that I thought they are worth linking at this point.
The transitions are so smooth that it's like watching a magic show. What's astounding is how the editor matched shots from multiple performances from different music programs (different camera crews and directors) and made the transitions look more like morphs.
2016 mix CD, part one (zip download):
1. Russian Roulette (Red Velvet) (full stage camcorder, Seulgi focus fancam, 2x speed version for people short on time)
2. Jealous 질투 (U Sung Eun x Kisum)
3. Sting 찔려 (Stellar) (choreography version)
4. No Oh Oh 아니야 (CLC) (choreography version)
5. Good Luck (AoA) (full stage camcorder)
6. Very Very Very (I.O.I) (full stage camcorder, unofficial stage mix)
7. Help Me (Brave Girls) (lyric video) (audio only)
8. To the Beautiful You (Wonder Girls)
9. So Good (Hyosung (Secret)) (lyric video) (audio only)
10. The Rain (Ladies' Code) (full stage camcorder)
11. Bambamhae (feat. Mad Clown/prod. by Gil (LeeSsang) (Yuk Ji Dam)
12. Day of Excess (Miryo (Brown Eyed Girls)) (lyric video) (audio only)
13. Free Time (Kisum) (audio only)
14. Are You Hungry? (EXID)
15. Next Page (Twice) (lyric video) (official audio)
16. Lip 2 Lip (Nine Muses A)
17. ViViD (HeeJin (LOOΠΔ))
18. Come In (Two X) (lyric video) (audio only)
19. Secret (Cosmic Girls)
20. Love Like This (Hyolin (Sistar))
21. I Do (Jeon Ji Yoon (ex-4minute))
22. Dollar Days (David Bowie) (official audio)
23. Missing U (Lee Hi) (official audio)
2016 mix CD, part two:
1. Magnet (Jeon Ji Yoon (ex-4minute))
2. Windy Day (Oh My Girl) (full stage camcorder, unofficial stage mix)
3. You Are the Moon (DIA (BinChaenHyunSeu))
4. High Heels (Brave Girls)
5. I'm Jelly Baby (AoA Cream) (full stage camcorder)
6. Around You (HyunJin (LOOΠΔ))
7. You're the Best (Mamamoo) (adlib compilation, full stage camcorder)
8. Keep On Doin' (Luna (f(x))
9. Shooting Love (Laboum) (unofficial stage mix, full stage camcorder)
10. Hate (Melody Day) (audio only)
11. Why So Lonely? (Wonder Girls)
12. Do As I Say (I.O.I) (lyric video) (audio only)
13. And July (feat. Dean, DJ Friz) (Heize)
14. 13 months, 32 Days (DIA (L.U.B.))
15. Only One (EXID) (lyric video) (Solji x Hani audio only)
16. Let Me In (HaSeul (LOOΠΔ))
17. Hoo Hoo Hoo (NC.A) (lyric video) (official audio)
18. I Like That (Sistar)
19. Ya Heart (Dal Shabet) (audio only)
20. Walkak (Baechigi) (audio only)
21. Smile (Jeon So Yeon)
22. TT (Twice) (full stage camcorder, unofficial stage mix)
2015 mix CD, part 2
Saturday, July 22, 2017
All those things I was griping about have been abating. So . . . that wasn't how it was all going to end. Sleep has been returning, but not perfect. It's not relentless insomnia anymore. Recovery sleep still wrecking.
I've been able to eat, but limited. Gastrointestinal issues, the least I know anything about, are likely chronic but have abated.
I may even try exercising again after the debacle last time over two weeks ago. There's a psychological barrier that appears when something unpleasant like that happens. There's both the unpleasantness aspect as well as the feeling that I shouldn't be doing this anymore because I can't. Which in my defense, at my age, is fair.
If I can't manage even 3 miles at a super slow pace, whatever. I have no problem quitting trying. I don't even know why I'm even trying.
When I was younger it was impulse. Craving. I grew up in places where winter was cold, and I couldn't run in cold weather because I'd get asthma. But once spring came along, I would get antsy if I didn't start running. It felt like something I had to do.
It's definitely not something I need to do now. As for cycling, I filled the tires on my bike two weeks ago, telling myself if I hadn't gone on a ride in two days, I'd deflate them. I've done neither, but I think I'll be deflating them this evening.
Whatever I do, it'll wait until the end of the Tour de France which I've been following on TV. The last stage is tomorrow. When I was younger, but older than running days, watching the TdF would have inspired me to get on my bike, but not now. Tackling climbs? Why?!! Looks painful, and I know how painful it is.
Morning sitting is still out. It wasn't too long ago that I would wake up and think of not sitting, but then think it was the most important thing I'd be doing that day and proceed with it.
I, of course, wouldn't mind getting back to it once the impulse or inspiration hits, but so far I haven't noticed anything different in my daily mindfulness whether I sit or not.
I don't think I could ever abandon or decry the benefits of sitting meditation, but perhaps the lifestyle I've chosen whereby I'm just waiting to die and have no social contacts or substantive attachments is by nature mindfulness practice. Don't need to pull myself out of something I'm not even sucked into.
The question still persists why I'm still alive, though. I'm still working on that. I've taken to focusing on certain body parts – a finger joint, or where an internal organ likely is – and asking what it has to do with me. There's a bone in here, is it me? No. Why should it exist? Why is it in any way important? It's not.
I still stare into mirrors and visualize and imagine the skull that is the basis for my head appearance. Strip off the outer flesh and all skulls look the same. You can't look at a skull and identify the person it was. It's the vanity of identity.
And as I've done many times before, I remind myself that the purpose of distancing myself from any and everyone has been to lessen any impact of my death. To make it theoretical, rather than emotional.
I hear about people dying and the emotional response by their loved ones, and I've worked to minimize that for when I die. There's just no proximity of any kind whereby anyone can be substantively affected by my dying.
Not physical, emotional, not even communication, any sort of connection, there's no proximity by which anyone could claim to be affected by my death. I've done well I must say so myself.
I've been able to eat, but limited. Gastrointestinal issues, the least I know anything about, are likely chronic but have abated.
I may even try exercising again after the debacle last time over two weeks ago. There's a psychological barrier that appears when something unpleasant like that happens. There's both the unpleasantness aspect as well as the feeling that I shouldn't be doing this anymore because I can't. Which in my defense, at my age, is fair.
If I can't manage even 3 miles at a super slow pace, whatever. I have no problem quitting trying. I don't even know why I'm even trying.
When I was younger it was impulse. Craving. I grew up in places where winter was cold, and I couldn't run in cold weather because I'd get asthma. But once spring came along, I would get antsy if I didn't start running. It felt like something I had to do.
It's definitely not something I need to do now. As for cycling, I filled the tires on my bike two weeks ago, telling myself if I hadn't gone on a ride in two days, I'd deflate them. I've done neither, but I think I'll be deflating them this evening.
Whatever I do, it'll wait until the end of the Tour de France which I've been following on TV. The last stage is tomorrow. When I was younger, but older than running days, watching the TdF would have inspired me to get on my bike, but not now. Tackling climbs? Why?!! Looks painful, and I know how painful it is.
Morning sitting is still out. It wasn't too long ago that I would wake up and think of not sitting, but then think it was the most important thing I'd be doing that day and proceed with it.
I, of course, wouldn't mind getting back to it once the impulse or inspiration hits, but so far I haven't noticed anything different in my daily mindfulness whether I sit or not.
I don't think I could ever abandon or decry the benefits of sitting meditation, but perhaps the lifestyle I've chosen whereby I'm just waiting to die and have no social contacts or substantive attachments is by nature mindfulness practice. Don't need to pull myself out of something I'm not even sucked into.
The question still persists why I'm still alive, though. I'm still working on that. I've taken to focusing on certain body parts – a finger joint, or where an internal organ likely is – and asking what it has to do with me. There's a bone in here, is it me? No. Why should it exist? Why is it in any way important? It's not.
I still stare into mirrors and visualize and imagine the skull that is the basis for my head appearance. Strip off the outer flesh and all skulls look the same. You can't look at a skull and identify the person it was. It's the vanity of identity.
And as I've done many times before, I remind myself that the purpose of distancing myself from any and everyone has been to lessen any impact of my death. To make it theoretical, rather than emotional.
I hear about people dying and the emotional response by their loved ones, and I've worked to minimize that for when I die. There's just no proximity of any kind whereby anyone can be substantively affected by my dying.
Not physical, emotional, not even communication, any sort of connection, there's no proximity by which anyone could claim to be affected by my death. I've done well I must say so myself.
Wednesday, July 12, 2017
Misery and distress continue with insomnia, inability to eat and gastrointestinal problems which have disrupted all aspects of my life. Fortunately, my life does not have many aspects to be significantly disrupted.
Last night was total insomnia. No sleep at all. You flip the light switch and nothing happens. Eventually I blacked out at about 7 in the morning and woke up with a few interruptions around noon. That's optimistically five hours solid as far as I'm concerned.
The eating issue has a simple solution: don't eat. I keep getting tempted to eat or feeling I need to eat, or even feeling hungry, and I fall for it and even if I nibble at morsels, it puts me in some kind of agonizing food coma for several hours.
Eating anything has been triggering the gastrointestinal issues. Again the solution is to not eat. And stay close to home, or even better don't even go out.
Exercising has been completely out. Especially after last week's incident, which I've been thinking was the result of the plod itself, and not incidental to trying to do something. It adds up. If you can't take in nutrition, any exertion is going to lead to distress.
It is miserable and distressing. It's only balanced out by the fact that I have no responsibilities to anything or anyone so there's no external stress. I don't have to be anywhere or do anything. If I feel I can't get out for the day, I don't have to explain myself to anyone. No one will even know.
If I can't eat, if I can't sleep, it affects no one, no one needs to know. There's a slight question for myself how much of this I can take. When the balance of misery and distress tips any mitigating factors that are keeping me alive, whatever that means.
Last night was total insomnia. No sleep at all. You flip the light switch and nothing happens. Eventually I blacked out at about 7 in the morning and woke up with a few interruptions around noon. That's optimistically five hours solid as far as I'm concerned.
The eating issue has a simple solution: don't eat. I keep getting tempted to eat or feeling I need to eat, or even feeling hungry, and I fall for it and even if I nibble at morsels, it puts me in some kind of agonizing food coma for several hours.
Eating anything has been triggering the gastrointestinal issues. Again the solution is to not eat. And stay close to home, or even better don't even go out.
Exercising has been completely out. Especially after last week's incident, which I've been thinking was the result of the plod itself, and not incidental to trying to do something. It adds up. If you can't take in nutrition, any exertion is going to lead to distress.
It is miserable and distressing. It's only balanced out by the fact that I have no responsibilities to anything or anyone so there's no external stress. I don't have to be anywhere or do anything. If I feel I can't get out for the day, I don't have to explain myself to anyone. No one will even know.
If I can't eat, if I can't sleep, it affects no one, no one needs to know. There's a slight question for myself how much of this I can take. When the balance of misery and distress tips any mitigating factors that are keeping me alive, whatever that means.
Thursday, July 06, 2017
Insomnia may be abating, but recovery sleep is also brutal with difficulty getting up and general fatigue. My life is so fucked. Fuck my life. There are no words and no limit to how much my life is fucked.
Now that I've got that out of my system, at least I have and have had some modicum of control over my life and destiny. Even if it was just to fuck it.
Eating is fucked. All I ate yesterday was a bakery pretzel. Today just a simple portion of plain noodles, during which I knew it was the only thing I was going to eat for the rest of the day. No hunger or appetite otherwise.
Yesterday I woke up with my calves sore even though I haven't done any exercise in two weeks. It was odd. But even though I haven't been feeling great lately, I decided to try to go out and at least walk my three mile course.
I ended up plodding through it with full intention of stopping if I felt any discomfort anywhere. It was a woeful 10:56 average pace, but I've done worse in the past few months.
Afterwards I started feeling really bad, like I was going to pass out. I was too weak to even do cool down stretches. As I slowly trudged my way home, I seriously, at times, wondered if I was going to make it or if . . . this was how it was going to end.
Of course, I did make it home and ultimately alright. But it did give me a thought. I recently saw a video of a bull being killed in a Spanish bullfight. The fatal blow had already been dealt.
The video was showing how brutal and inhumane bullfighting is. Ironically, this was just a few days after news of a top bullfighter having died from his injuries from being gored. I'm sorry to say I had minimal compassion or sympathy for him.
But the video chronicled the bull's death and how blood loss was leading to its major organs shutting down and struggling until it collapsed and died. It gave me insights on what it might be like to die of untreated liver failure.
I haven't been able to find any description of what that experience is actually like. But drinking the way I do, I should expect liver failure at some point down the line. Of course it's a matter of personal physiology and there have been people who drink like I do who live to ripe old ages.
But drinking about a bottle a day (liquor, not beer) can be expected to progressively impair liver function. They say the liver is a very resilient organ and if the drinking stops, the liver can repair itself to a certain extent.
So it's not easy to push it over the point of no return, but once the liver loses its functionality, once it stops playing the role of "one that lives", the effects cascade. Other organs start shutting down and as parts of the system fail, the whole system eventually fails.
With the liver, it's not immediately critical like a heart attack or stroke or bleeding out. I gather it's more a matter of toxicity in the body rising until it gets critical. But then once it's critical, it's "immediately critical".
Is it painful? Probably. But it's also probably brief. If the system can't function, you die possibly quickly. If a person can be rushed to a hospital, there's a possibility of revival and recovery. But if I'm not counting on that, if I've abused my liver for so long without any expectation of living beyond its ability, it's possible that when it goes, I go.
If it happens in public, while I'm out, after or during a jog, I'm likely just to lie down somewhere as indiscreetly as possible and let the public and authorities figure it out. I never carry ID with me, so good luck to them.
I felt bad after that three-mile plod. I wondered whether I could make it home. But I took it moment at a time and proceeded as I felt I was well enough to.
At some point in the future, I might not feel like I could go any further. I may become disoriented and too weak. And the realization that I seriously don't think I'd be making it home and just find somewhere indiscreet to stop.
This gives me great comfort over the possibility of dying while writhing in agony and misery at home because I decided to eat something that day.
Now that I've got that out of my system, at least I have and have had some modicum of control over my life and destiny. Even if it was just to fuck it.
Eating is fucked. All I ate yesterday was a bakery pretzel. Today just a simple portion of plain noodles, during which I knew it was the only thing I was going to eat for the rest of the day. No hunger or appetite otherwise.
Yesterday I woke up with my calves sore even though I haven't done any exercise in two weeks. It was odd. But even though I haven't been feeling great lately, I decided to try to go out and at least walk my three mile course.
I ended up plodding through it with full intention of stopping if I felt any discomfort anywhere. It was a woeful 10:56 average pace, but I've done worse in the past few months.
Afterwards I started feeling really bad, like I was going to pass out. I was too weak to even do cool down stretches. As I slowly trudged my way home, I seriously, at times, wondered if I was going to make it or if . . . this was how it was going to end.
Of course, I did make it home and ultimately alright. But it did give me a thought. I recently saw a video of a bull being killed in a Spanish bullfight. The fatal blow had already been dealt.
The video was showing how brutal and inhumane bullfighting is. Ironically, this was just a few days after news of a top bullfighter having died from his injuries from being gored. I'm sorry to say I had minimal compassion or sympathy for him.
But the video chronicled the bull's death and how blood loss was leading to its major organs shutting down and struggling until it collapsed and died. It gave me insights on what it might be like to die of untreated liver failure.
I haven't been able to find any description of what that experience is actually like. But drinking the way I do, I should expect liver failure at some point down the line. Of course it's a matter of personal physiology and there have been people who drink like I do who live to ripe old ages.
But drinking about a bottle a day (liquor, not beer) can be expected to progressively impair liver function. They say the liver is a very resilient organ and if the drinking stops, the liver can repair itself to a certain extent.
So it's not easy to push it over the point of no return, but once the liver loses its functionality, once it stops playing the role of "one that lives", the effects cascade. Other organs start shutting down and as parts of the system fail, the whole system eventually fails.
With the liver, it's not immediately critical like a heart attack or stroke or bleeding out. I gather it's more a matter of toxicity in the body rising until it gets critical. But then once it's critical, it's "immediately critical".
Is it painful? Probably. But it's also probably brief. If the system can't function, you die possibly quickly. If a person can be rushed to a hospital, there's a possibility of revival and recovery. But if I'm not counting on that, if I've abused my liver for so long without any expectation of living beyond its ability, it's possible that when it goes, I go.
If it happens in public, while I'm out, after or during a jog, I'm likely just to lie down somewhere as indiscreetly as possible and let the public and authorities figure it out. I never carry ID with me, so good luck to them.
I felt bad after that three-mile plod. I wondered whether I could make it home. But I took it moment at a time and proceeded as I felt I was well enough to.
At some point in the future, I might not feel like I could go any further. I may become disoriented and too weak. And the realization that I seriously don't think I'd be making it home and just find somewhere indiscreet to stop.
This gives me great comfort over the possibility of dying while writhing in agony and misery at home because I decided to eat something that day.
Labels:
alcohol,
cycling running,
death,
insomnia,
mental health medical
Monday, July 03, 2017
I'm having trouble just chilling with insomnia these days. It feels like I'm under attack, and along with eating and stomach issues and the questionable continuation of trying to run, quality of life has taken a dip.
Weather, too. Every year a benchmark is when air conditioning is turned on and off for the season. It came on the last week of June, which means it's starting get buttcrack hot in Taipei. And that's a plumber's buttcrack, not a lingerie model's.
And to be even clearer with the visual, that's a male plumber and female lingerie model, not the other way around. Can't make assumptions these days, for better or worse.
It's been more than a year since I tried to start running again. I didn't expect much, but then surprisingly started showing signs of improvement in speed and distance by last October.
That was all interrupted by having to go to New Jersey in November, and when I got back I pulled my Achilles tendon my first time out. Since then it's all been bad with no improvement in speed or distance, long periods of rest trying to recover, and shin splints on top of Achilles threats.
I'm ready to call it. Weather is clearing for one more attempt and even though my cardiovascular fitness has been holding me back for the past few months, I'm not going to baby my legs from injury. Any shin splints or tendinitis, I'm done.
Finally, morning sitting has stopped for what feels like weeks. If I put my mind to it, I can probably start up again, but part of me is wondering what's the point?
I haven't noticed any difference in my mind or days whether I sit or not, but I'm sure there's a difference, and it's a matter of noticing it. One sitting may do that.
Weather, too. Every year a benchmark is when air conditioning is turned on and off for the season. It came on the last week of June, which means it's starting get buttcrack hot in Taipei. And that's a plumber's buttcrack, not a lingerie model's.
And to be even clearer with the visual, that's a male plumber and female lingerie model, not the other way around. Can't make assumptions these days, for better or worse.
It's been more than a year since I tried to start running again. I didn't expect much, but then surprisingly started showing signs of improvement in speed and distance by last October.
That was all interrupted by having to go to New Jersey in November, and when I got back I pulled my Achilles tendon my first time out. Since then it's all been bad with no improvement in speed or distance, long periods of rest trying to recover, and shin splints on top of Achilles threats.
I'm ready to call it. Weather is clearing for one more attempt and even though my cardiovascular fitness has been holding me back for the past few months, I'm not going to baby my legs from injury. Any shin splints or tendinitis, I'm done.
Finally, morning sitting has stopped for what feels like weeks. If I put my mind to it, I can probably start up again, but part of me is wondering what's the point?
I haven't noticed any difference in my mind or days whether I sit or not, but I'm sure there's a difference, and it's a matter of noticing it. One sitting may do that.
Friday, June 30, 2017
Total insomnia last night, a.k.a. devastating insomnia. The type that leaves me pretty fucked up in the late morning/early afternoon hours when mixed with alcohol.
I know alcohol doesn't mix with insomnia. It makes function difficult and delays recovery. I used to be able to avoid drinking during insomnia, but recently it's just been I-don't-care-all-fuck.
Still, I managed to get out to the library and read as is routine and it felt like I wasn't completely wasting my life away. No eating, though, as long as I wasn't hungry. All I ate today was a chicken sandwich. Again, not enough to puke, but it still lay me out for an hour. Evidence that my stomach isn't working.
Again, overall drinking was down, but not out of choice.
I know alcohol doesn't mix with insomnia. It makes function difficult and delays recovery. I used to be able to avoid drinking during insomnia, but recently it's just been I-don't-care-all-fuck.
Still, I managed to get out to the library and read as is routine and it felt like I wasn't completely wasting my life away. No eating, though, as long as I wasn't hungry. All I ate today was a chicken sandwich. Again, not enough to puke, but it still lay me out for an hour. Evidence that my stomach isn't working.
Again, overall drinking was down, but not out of choice.
Thursday, June 29, 2017
I ate very little today, so no puking. That's not to say there wasn't queasiness after the little I did eat. I guess I didn't eat quite enough to puke. I did end up feeling unpleasantly hungry later after I got home; a rare display of appetite. That doesn't mean I could have eaten much, nor that I wouldn't have felt sick afterwards.
I slept a solid five hours mainly possibly probably because I turned off the lights way past my usual bedtime. I'll still chalk that up as no insomnia since I woke up not feeling fucked up.
I did get out today, trying to get back to my routine, but no attempt at exercise. Still considering giving that up completely.
Drinking may have declined these past few days, only because I have to; only because my body can't take it anymore. That is to say I'm not quite able to drink the usual almost a bottle a day.
I slept a solid five hours mainly possibly probably because I turned off the lights way past my usual bedtime. I'll still chalk that up as no insomnia since I woke up not feeling fucked up.
I did get out today, trying to get back to my routine, but no attempt at exercise. Still considering giving that up completely.
Drinking may have declined these past few days, only because I have to; only because my body can't take it anymore. That is to say I'm not quite able to drink the usual almost a bottle a day.
Wednesday, June 28, 2017
On Monday, I went out and got something to eat. Soba noodles. After coming home, I put on my running gear without any intention of doing any sort of jog or plod. Shin splints appeared again last week and I've been off since then.
I went out to the riverside path and confirmed I wasn't going to try any sort of exertion; I just wanted to be out. Ended up just milling about listening to music before puking up the soba noodles and then returning home. I try to be discreet about puking in public and I don't think anyone saw me.
Yesterday, Tuesday, I didn't eat anything. I didn't get out. Raging insomnia totally messing with my routine. I also didn't puke at all.
Today, still insomnia. Did go out and get something to eat and came home. Puked it all up after several hours of lying on my bed feeling deathly sick, listening to my heartbeat in my ears, unable to pay attention to the Harry Potter movie I was trying to watch.
I don't know if this means anything. This is just what happened. It's probably happened before and I probably even posted about it.
I went out to the riverside path and confirmed I wasn't going to try any sort of exertion; I just wanted to be out. Ended up just milling about listening to music before puking up the soba noodles and then returning home. I try to be discreet about puking in public and I don't think anyone saw me.
Yesterday, Tuesday, I didn't eat anything. I didn't get out. Raging insomnia totally messing with my routine. I also didn't puke at all.
Today, still insomnia. Did go out and get something to eat and came home. Puked it all up after several hours of lying on my bed feeling deathly sick, listening to my heartbeat in my ears, unable to pay attention to the Harry Potter movie I was trying to watch.
I don't know if this means anything. This is just what happened. It's probably happened before and I probably even posted about it.
Labels:
despair,
existential angst,
insomnia,
mental health medical
Friday, June 16, 2017
The decline continues with no end in sight. How far can the descent go without reaching a bottom?
I haven't had anything to say for the past two and a half months. That's not true. There's always something. It's been dark and getting darker, and still no proactive plan to end things.
Thoughts of death and dying have been prevalent, but still just a lot of stagnation and theory. There's no reason for me to be alive. There is no clinging to hope; there is no "hope", just the last lame selfish enjoyment of continuing to listen to music. That's all that's left really.
Clinging to any last reason to live, and all I can come up with is listening to K-pop? There is no other reason I'm still alive. I'm not living for anyone, I'm not productive, I don't produce anything, I don't contribute to anything; not to anyone's perspective, knowledge or happiness. I'd've made a terrible Protestant.
It occurs to me that this blog may ultimately turn against me. It's very possible it still may be found by people who knew me. It's very possible that people would be disgusted by my attitude towards my life.
You hear of people called heroes who fought for their lives in the face of adversity, and here I am just throwing it all away just waiting for an end. It should have ended a long time ago. Where I am is the result of how I've always lived my life and I never intended to live this long.
Ten years, twenty years ago people may have reacted differently. Maybe understanding if not sympathy, not that I would have expected it. If I died now, having written all I've written, I expect a reaction more on the lines of "what a fucking idiot, should've gotten over with it before".
I can't imagine anyone being affected by my dying; old story I know. I expect it to just be passing news. You hear of people dying and other people paying tribute. Even mentioning their death is a tribute. I can't even imagine a mention.
How can my death have any littlest bit of impact on anyone else when my life hasn't had the littlest bit of impact on anyone else? My life goal has been to have as little impact on anyone else. And it goes both ways. I don't expect anyone to be affected and no one has the right to be affected.
When someone dies, people close have the right to "own" the dead; the right to mourn, the right to acknowledge the person meant something. No one has that right with me.
Now I realize that the most I could expect is disdain and disgust.
The past two and a half months have been a mess. I don't even know what it means anymore to think that things are spiraling out of control. A logical train of thought leads me to conclude nothing is spiraling out of control.
Mindfulness practice has felt like it has gone off the rails, but mindfulness practice is what keeps things grounded. Daily sitting has suffered more than it ever has except during the worst of insomnia. I can't seem to understand, much less absorb, the readings I read and re-read anymore.
Still, mindfulness practice is still a skill like casting magic spells in the Harry Potter series of books. Certain unwanted negative emotions or thoughts arise and you can identify them and recite an incantation and wave a wand and make it fly off.
I am immersed, mind you, in reading the Harry Potter books and watching the films which are showing on HBO. Whatever works. Twenty-five years ago it was reading the Lotus Sutra and equating concepts from Carl Sagan's "Cosmos" series.
Such comparisons only contribute to the utter meaninglessness.
I haven't had anything to say for the past two and a half months. That's not true. There's always something. It's been dark and getting darker, and still no proactive plan to end things.
Thoughts of death and dying have been prevalent, but still just a lot of stagnation and theory. There's no reason for me to be alive. There is no clinging to hope; there is no "hope", just the last lame selfish enjoyment of continuing to listen to music. That's all that's left really.
Clinging to any last reason to live, and all I can come up with is listening to K-pop? There is no other reason I'm still alive. I'm not living for anyone, I'm not productive, I don't produce anything, I don't contribute to anything; not to anyone's perspective, knowledge or happiness. I'd've made a terrible Protestant.
It occurs to me that this blog may ultimately turn against me. It's very possible it still may be found by people who knew me. It's very possible that people would be disgusted by my attitude towards my life.
You hear of people called heroes who fought for their lives in the face of adversity, and here I am just throwing it all away just waiting for an end. It should have ended a long time ago. Where I am is the result of how I've always lived my life and I never intended to live this long.
Ten years, twenty years ago people may have reacted differently. Maybe understanding if not sympathy, not that I would have expected it. If I died now, having written all I've written, I expect a reaction more on the lines of "what a fucking idiot, should've gotten over with it before".
I can't imagine anyone being affected by my dying; old story I know. I expect it to just be passing news. You hear of people dying and other people paying tribute. Even mentioning their death is a tribute. I can't even imagine a mention.
How can my death have any littlest bit of impact on anyone else when my life hasn't had the littlest bit of impact on anyone else? My life goal has been to have as little impact on anyone else. And it goes both ways. I don't expect anyone to be affected and no one has the right to be affected.
When someone dies, people close have the right to "own" the dead; the right to mourn, the right to acknowledge the person meant something. No one has that right with me.
Now I realize that the most I could expect is disdain and disgust.
The past two and a half months have been a mess. I don't even know what it means anymore to think that things are spiraling out of control. A logical train of thought leads me to conclude nothing is spiraling out of control.
Mindfulness practice has felt like it has gone off the rails, but mindfulness practice is what keeps things grounded. Daily sitting has suffered more than it ever has except during the worst of insomnia. I can't seem to understand, much less absorb, the readings I read and re-read anymore.
Still, mindfulness practice is still a skill like casting magic spells in the Harry Potter series of books. Certain unwanted negative emotions or thoughts arise and you can identify them and recite an incantation and wave a wand and make it fly off.
I am immersed, mind you, in reading the Harry Potter books and watching the films which are showing on HBO. Whatever works. Twenty-five years ago it was reading the Lotus Sutra and equating concepts from Carl Sagan's "Cosmos" series.
Such comparisons only contribute to the utter meaninglessness.
WordsCharactersReading time
Thursday, March 30, 2017
SHIN SPLINTS!! I took almost three weeks off and that was probably a very bad idea. It was primarily because of weather and mood, as well as the lame excuse of deliberately downgrading my fitness in order to force myself to go slow (stupid!). I should have maintained discipline and gotten out for jogs.
When I did go out again, I cut the initial 4 mile slow jog short at 3 miles because I knew I was suffering. I decided to do a week of slow 3-milers, but it was all downhill.
I knew there was likely an underlying issue regarding the fact that I haven't been able to eat enough and not getting required nutrition for any sort of exercise. Not being able to eat itself doesn't bother me as much as it did a few years ago, but calories and nutrition aren't negotiable when it comes to exertion. I may not care, but physiology does.
I did try eating some fruit after one jog, but ended up going catatonic as has become pattern when I try to eat more than once a day. And once coming home from a jog limping for no apparent reason and then being afflicted by multiple excruciating cramps in my feet and toes was an indication of things going wrong.
When the shin splints became apparent, it wasn't just a mild "uh-oh" warning of pain and to watch it, but full-on "Hi, let me introduce myself, I'm Shin Splints" (apparently Korean since last name comes first). Both legs and obviously shin splints, practically screaming to stay off for at least a week.
On the other hand, the planned forced week off coincides with weather getting better for cycling. So the conflict will become if I can get off my lazy ass and get my bike prepped and suited up for preliminary fitness rides. To be sure, it's a conflict of laziness.
When I did go out again, I cut the initial 4 mile slow jog short at 3 miles because I knew I was suffering. I decided to do a week of slow 3-milers, but it was all downhill.
I knew there was likely an underlying issue regarding the fact that I haven't been able to eat enough and not getting required nutrition for any sort of exercise. Not being able to eat itself doesn't bother me as much as it did a few years ago, but calories and nutrition aren't negotiable when it comes to exertion. I may not care, but physiology does.
I did try eating some fruit after one jog, but ended up going catatonic as has become pattern when I try to eat more than once a day. And once coming home from a jog limping for no apparent reason and then being afflicted by multiple excruciating cramps in my feet and toes was an indication of things going wrong.
When the shin splints became apparent, it wasn't just a mild "uh-oh" warning of pain and to watch it, but full-on "Hi, let me introduce myself, I'm Shin Splints" (apparently Korean since last name comes first). Both legs and obviously shin splints, practically screaming to stay off for at least a week.
On the other hand, the planned forced week off coincides with weather getting better for cycling. So the conflict will become if I can get off my lazy ass and get my bike prepped and suited up for preliminary fitness rides. To be sure, it's a conflict of laziness.
Wednesday, March 29, 2017
Things not as bad as I mentioned before. Negativity has eased off, but inspiration is still blah. As a fellow practitioner said years ago, "stick to your method".
It means when you've affirmed a certain method works, if things start going off, just stick to the method and it will get you back on or point you in a new direction.
It's a matter of faith, but it's faith in something that you've tested yourself. Not blind faith. It's not something pushed on you. You stop, stay calm, and let yourself figure out what the dissonance is and how to get through it.
It's actually no different from a physical training regime. Everyone is different physiologically and regimes that work for some may not work for others.
A book I'm re-reading and slogging through trying to absorb again is Happiness by Matthieu Ricard. I had no trouble with it before. I've even considered much of it obvious in a re-affirming way.
I've considered much of it obvious in a re-affirming way even though happiness is not a consideration for me. Happiness is not a goal for me, nor is it even possible. But I got what he was writing about.
It's still a meditation. Even if it isn't practically attainable, much less something to pursue, happiness is worth contemplating and analyzing. I mean even living an ordinary life, there's the Tibetan saying that everyone strives for happiness, but so many act in ways that curtails it.
And I'm not living an ordinary life. My life has always been all about multiple layers of sabotaging it and any happiness that may accompany it. It also hasn't been about being miserable, so there's that dissonance.
In re-reading "Happiness", I recognize that everything he's saying is right, but it doesn't apply to me. I don't fit into any of his descriptions or examples or metaphors or parables. The paradigms are normative, and I have no idea what to say after saying something like that.
The paradigms are normative. So what? I'm outside the paradigms of an accomplished monk who has translated for the Dalai Lama? Maybe, his writings are obviously for a general audience, but it's still dissonance. Stick to my method.
What do I do in my daily life to promote happiness? In my daily life, I distract myself a lot with entertainments. That's not happiness. I avoid suffering. That may be as close to what I can conceive of as happiness.
Various levels of contentment. If I'm not suffering physical ailments, I consider myself happy. But that's defined as a negative, an absence. I really, really, really enjoy listening to music. But that's not happiness. It's temporary enjoyment.
Needless to say, the bottom line is that I have no idea about "happiness". It's not a pursuit or a goal, just something to contemplate. At this point, I'd be happy to just dispel the dissonances. Still, it's not nothing. It's not unimportant. Maybe as an unattainable, it's more important to consider.
It means when you've affirmed a certain method works, if things start going off, just stick to the method and it will get you back on or point you in a new direction.
It's a matter of faith, but it's faith in something that you've tested yourself. Not blind faith. It's not something pushed on you. You stop, stay calm, and let yourself figure out what the dissonance is and how to get through it.
It's actually no different from a physical training regime. Everyone is different physiologically and regimes that work for some may not work for others.
A book I'm re-reading and slogging through trying to absorb again is Happiness by Matthieu Ricard. I had no trouble with it before. I've even considered much of it obvious in a re-affirming way.
I've considered much of it obvious in a re-affirming way even though happiness is not a consideration for me. Happiness is not a goal for me, nor is it even possible. But I got what he was writing about.
It's still a meditation. Even if it isn't practically attainable, much less something to pursue, happiness is worth contemplating and analyzing. I mean even living an ordinary life, there's the Tibetan saying that everyone strives for happiness, but so many act in ways that curtails it.
And I'm not living an ordinary life. My life has always been all about multiple layers of sabotaging it and any happiness that may accompany it. It also hasn't been about being miserable, so there's that dissonance.
In re-reading "Happiness", I recognize that everything he's saying is right, but it doesn't apply to me. I don't fit into any of his descriptions or examples or metaphors or parables. The paradigms are normative, and I have no idea what to say after saying something like that.
The paradigms are normative. So what? I'm outside the paradigms of an accomplished monk who has translated for the Dalai Lama? Maybe, his writings are obviously for a general audience, but it's still dissonance. Stick to my method.
What do I do in my daily life to promote happiness? In my daily life, I distract myself a lot with entertainments. That's not happiness. I avoid suffering. That may be as close to what I can conceive of as happiness.
Various levels of contentment. If I'm not suffering physical ailments, I consider myself happy. But that's defined as a negative, an absence. I really, really, really enjoy listening to music. But that's not happiness. It's temporary enjoyment.
Needless to say, the bottom line is that I have no idea about "happiness". It's not a pursuit or a goal, just something to contemplate. At this point, I'd be happy to just dispel the dissonances. Still, it's not nothing. It's not unimportant. Maybe as an unattainable, it's more important to consider.
Friday, March 17, 2017
I haven't gone jogging for almost two weeks. Part of the reason has been weather, either rain or cold has prevented. The rest of the reason is probably weather-related as Taipei is transitioning into spring.
Temperatures have been poking upwards, but it's still been pretty dreary, contributing to depressive states, and part of me is waiting for a weather breakthrough to get out jogging again. Sunlight would be nice.
This prolonged break also serves the purpose of lowering my fitness so that when I do go out again, I necessarily have to go slow and not press speed and risk injuring my Achilles again.
I'm still committed to several months more of jogging (9-minute mile range) 4 mile courses. I remember starting last summer persevering through sluggishly slow (10 minute+ miles) 3 milers because I had to; I couldn't go any faster. So I have to be patient before trying to go faster.
My fitness is at a point where I could go faster into 8-minute mile range runs, but my Achilles would risk injury at that pace. In a way it's kinda nice being able to force myself to go slower.
I'm also keeping an eye on when to get on my bike again. I think I might be bored with cycling, but I want to give riding another go. Daytime temps and rain are what will control cycling. I've also changed my sleep since last year so that I can ride in the morning hours and be back home before the preventative afternoon heat. I'm assuming the scorching past few summers is a trend and not about to let up.
Temperatures have been poking upwards, but it's still been pretty dreary, contributing to depressive states, and part of me is waiting for a weather breakthrough to get out jogging again. Sunlight would be nice.
This prolonged break also serves the purpose of lowering my fitness so that when I do go out again, I necessarily have to go slow and not press speed and risk injuring my Achilles again.
I'm still committed to several months more of jogging (9-minute mile range) 4 mile courses. I remember starting last summer persevering through sluggishly slow (10 minute+ miles) 3 milers because I had to; I couldn't go any faster. So I have to be patient before trying to go faster.
My fitness is at a point where I could go faster into 8-minute mile range runs, but my Achilles would risk injury at that pace. In a way it's kinda nice being able to force myself to go slower.
I'm also keeping an eye on when to get on my bike again. I think I might be bored with cycling, but I want to give riding another go. Daytime temps and rain are what will control cycling. I've also changed my sleep since last year so that I can ride in the morning hours and be back home before the preventative afternoon heat. I'm assuming the scorching past few summers is a trend and not about to let up.
Saturday, March 11, 2017
I've noticed the efficacy of mindfulness practice has broken down completely recently. It's a continuation and extension of what I mentioned in January when I first noticed something . . . off.
My mind is clouded, my thoughts are clouded, my feelings are clouded. Negativity grows and creeps and I can't stop it. I apply the practices, the visualizations, the meditations and they just aren't working.
I've been going back to the teachings in the books that have been so illuminating in the past, and sometimes I'm reading sentence by sentence with negative responses and resistance arising constantly.
It's not that I think the teachings are wrong. I read and acknowledge they are right, but my mind is resisting, making excuses why they don't apply to me now; excuses that I know are wrong and deluded, but reflect how I feel.
It may be a problem of not having a social support structure; no community, no friends, no family. Even hermits living in caves have benefactors who check up on them and deliver food and supplies as necessary. Even hermits are not as nothing as I am in my current existence. They are especially not nothing.
Maybe weather, winter blues, is a contributing factor. If it's raining, if there is no sunshine or shadows it's just such an easy excuse to stay holed up except to get out for alcohol. Not even food that much as I'm never hungry anymore. Whatever sparse nibbles I have in my room are enough to not want to eat.
It's not that I'm giving up on mindfulness practice. Morning sitting is still the most important thing I'll do for the day. Occasionally I'll take a break day, but for most part, even if I wake up and don't feel like sitting, by the time I'm vertical I'll be preparing for sitting. Actual break days are often justified by physical health conditions that actually manifest.
Besides, I know from experience that the teachings work. If they're not sinking in just now, that doesn't mean they don't work. It's far more likely that certain conditions and attitudes are preventing me from realizing them in the present moment.
I'm not worried. I'm not going to stop applying the teachings, but I expect I'll be spinning wheels until conditions are right when the sparks start plugging again. It will be of continuing importance to keep objectivity and keep just observing internally and not reacting emotionally and uncritically. That would be a waste of all I've learned.
As the saying goes, "If you're going through hard times, keep going".
My mind is clouded, my thoughts are clouded, my feelings are clouded. Negativity grows and creeps and I can't stop it. I apply the practices, the visualizations, the meditations and they just aren't working.
I've been going back to the teachings in the books that have been so illuminating in the past, and sometimes I'm reading sentence by sentence with negative responses and resistance arising constantly.
It's not that I think the teachings are wrong. I read and acknowledge they are right, but my mind is resisting, making excuses why they don't apply to me now; excuses that I know are wrong and deluded, but reflect how I feel.
It may be a problem of not having a social support structure; no community, no friends, no family. Even hermits living in caves have benefactors who check up on them and deliver food and supplies as necessary. Even hermits are not as nothing as I am in my current existence. They are especially not nothing.
Maybe weather, winter blues, is a contributing factor. If it's raining, if there is no sunshine or shadows it's just such an easy excuse to stay holed up except to get out for alcohol. Not even food that much as I'm never hungry anymore. Whatever sparse nibbles I have in my room are enough to not want to eat.
It's not that I'm giving up on mindfulness practice. Morning sitting is still the most important thing I'll do for the day. Occasionally I'll take a break day, but for most part, even if I wake up and don't feel like sitting, by the time I'm vertical I'll be preparing for sitting. Actual break days are often justified by physical health conditions that actually manifest.
Besides, I know from experience that the teachings work. If they're not sinking in just now, that doesn't mean they don't work. It's far more likely that certain conditions and attitudes are preventing me from realizing them in the present moment.
I'm not worried. I'm not going to stop applying the teachings, but I expect I'll be spinning wheels until conditions are right when the sparks start plugging again. It will be of continuing importance to keep objectivity and keep just observing internally and not reacting emotionally and uncritically. That would be a waste of all I've learned.
As the saying goes, "If you're going through hard times, keep going".
Saturday, March 04, 2017
I experience people in this city, life in this city, and I'm astounded by how rude people are in this city. Then I realize if anyone, I'm the rude one. I'm the asshole. How did I become such an asshole?
Am I such an asshole because I'm alone, or am I alone because I'm such an asshole?
Is it a matter of nature or nurture? If it's nurture, then I'm a rude asshole because of my upbringing; the result of my parents' poor parenting. I don't buy that. My parents were shit parents, but I don't put what I am on their heads. I could've risen above it. Their shit parenthood only reflects what shit parents they were. Not my decisions.
So nature – nature of an asshole – what does that even mean? From a Buddhist perspective, I think nature (personal, not "primordial") is about karma, what has been spiritually inherited; habitually practiced and inculcated until transferred from one lifetime to the next.
So what about my nature, my karma, has made me such an asshole? Is it my self-imposed social isolation but with access to internet and media that has rendered me so self-absorbed that I no longer have any connection or empathy, ergo a sociopathic asshole?
It's probably just how I feel. I may even be exaggerating. It very well may be likely that no one even takes notice of me and my dark clouds at all.
Am I such an asshole because I'm alone, or am I alone because I'm such an asshole?
Is it a matter of nature or nurture? If it's nurture, then I'm a rude asshole because of my upbringing; the result of my parents' poor parenting. I don't buy that. My parents were shit parents, but I don't put what I am on their heads. I could've risen above it. Their shit parenthood only reflects what shit parents they were. Not my decisions.
So nature – nature of an asshole – what does that even mean? From a Buddhist perspective, I think nature (personal, not "primordial") is about karma, what has been spiritually inherited; habitually practiced and inculcated until transferred from one lifetime to the next.
So what about my nature, my karma, has made me such an asshole? Is it my self-imposed social isolation but with access to internet and media that has rendered me so self-absorbed that I no longer have any connection or empathy, ergo a sociopathic asshole?
It's probably just how I feel. I may even be exaggerating. It very well may be likely that no one even takes notice of me and my dark clouds at all.
Tuesday, February 28, 2017
As I remember last winter in Taipei, it was pretty mild until around January 20 and then it got unusually cold for two months without much let up. It was always cold, rainy or dreary until late March.
This winter was similarly mild until late January before turning cold, but temperatures have been variable, so not as bad as last year. It's gotten cold, but not as cold as last year and not as protracted. In the past month daytime highs have gotten into the 70s and I think even 80s.
Really cold for Taipei is low 50s. Expected winter cold I would put above and under 60 degrees; not too different from San Francisco.
I would also mention that age becomes a factor in tolerance of cold and pain. The least bit of unpleasantness can ground me at home despite my telling myself that I need to get out. Two days of solid rain kept me in this past weekend except to get alcohol.
It's psychological. I perceive unpleasantness and dreariness, but I know from experience the climate conditions really aren't that bad. Every time I perceive it to be unpleasant outside but force myself out, I get out and think it isn't that bad. It's messed up.
This winter was similarly mild until late January before turning cold, but temperatures have been variable, so not as bad as last year. It's gotten cold, but not as cold as last year and not as protracted. In the past month daytime highs have gotten into the 70s and I think even 80s.
Really cold for Taipei is low 50s. Expected winter cold I would put above and under 60 degrees; not too different from San Francisco.
I would also mention that age becomes a factor in tolerance of cold and pain. The least bit of unpleasantness can ground me at home despite my telling myself that I need to get out. Two days of solid rain kept me in this past weekend except to get alcohol.
It's psychological. I perceive unpleasantness and dreariness, but I know from experience the climate conditions really aren't that bad. Every time I perceive it to be unpleasant outside but force myself out, I get out and think it isn't that bad. It's messed up.
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