I think AI thinks I need a good teeth cleaning too, yuck.

I know it’s kind of a silly materialist dream, but I do miss my old suits. They gave me a sense of dignity. Some self-esteem. Pride? Probably, although I try not to think of it that way. I mean the alternative of me blundering around in tee-shirts and sweatpants is nobody’s idea of a person dressed decent. Shambling along the streets like an ungainly Frankenstein’s monster.

Maybe someday it can come true.

I don’t even bother daydreaming about a personal relationship because of how low I feel right now. I’m so fat and disgusting I wouldn’t want to subject anybody else to that right now.

I do miss M.

Thank you so much to the person kind enough to purchase this yucky stuff for me. It is supposed to help the wounds on my stump heal along with everything else they’ve given me. I hope so. It’s demoralizing not being able to spend more time on my prosthetic because of a wound. Plus I worry about the wound getting infected (this place is not the cleanest place I’ve ever been) and also about complications from my pre-diabetes. I really have to lose weight…

The good news is that I may have a trip to the gym lined up! A friend from another program has a gym membership which allows a visitor. I’m not sure what I will do at the gym, maybe just work on upper body stuff, but I’m really looking forward to it.

Today I’m grateful for the people who care. Have an appointment with my therapist this afternoon, hopefully that is productive.

Beside being a totally radical movie from the ‘80s, the Labyrinth was also a maze in which Theseus battled the Minotaur to escape.

Theseus vs. the Minotaur

Sometimes I feel like I’m running around in the deadly maze.

That’s me in the back row with the sunglasses and ball cap. 1997 or ‘98. I was “Internet Editor” back then when the internet was still pretty gosh darn new. Some good memories from back then.

I have made the decision to leave this facility on Oct. 1st. This likely means I will be homeless for some time. Perhaps a long time. But I am not getting better here. I have reached maximum recovery for what this place offers.

This is probably a bad decision, but I don’t know what else to do.

The hearing for social security disability is September 10th, but I fear it will be continued. I also fear I will be denied again. My education is working against me in that I should be able to find employment somewhere doing something. When I go to the hearing I will have to testify under oath that I’m not capable of working. Fortunately no one is required to testify on the Bible anymore. But just lying to the United States government (SSDI is federal) shouldn’t be a problem considering all the lying it does to me.

UPDATED - Not so great news from the wound doctor. The wound on my stump is “weeping” and often bloody. The doctor is worried my weight gain and pre-diabetic status may be preventing the wound from fully recovering. He gave me a few days’ samples of drink protein-additive to help heal. Of course insurance won’t pay for more of it. I might be able to trade to get the Ensure-with-protein my neighbour-across-the-hall keeps. Wonderful.

So the physical health update of the other day is still in effect. I’m following the doctor’s order three times a day and it is simply too much for me. I’m going to call today to at least see if I can get it down to once a day, maybe right before bed.

I fell asleep and missed my appointment with my therapist Monday. No good excuse, just sitting in my wheelchair and dozed off after lunch. I hate that kind of behaviour in myself. Reminds me of how i behaved when I was drinking and I didn’t pay attention to how I affected others. I really hate that I sometimes lie to my therapist, which I know is ridiculous, but I don't want her to know how bad I feel sometimes. If I approach the topic she immediately goes through the checklist to see if I'm suicidal and it feels like such a robotic and disruptive thing to have to do. I don't know. Like what’s the point of being in therapy if I can’t be honest? And if I am honest I probably get sent to the looney bin which is of no help to anyone. I’ve been to the looney bin before, it in no way makes things better. Maybe if I was in a hysterical mode and needed to calm down it might help. But I’m in the calm down phase right now. I’m so calm that somedays I can barely move.

My Aunt I is still waiting for the results of her test. Please keep her in your prayers.

I’ve decided I’m not going to stay here any longer. I gave the social worker the date of Oct. 1st that I’ll be gone. I told them this Friday the 14th, and have received no response, which is entirely typical and part of the reason I have to do this on my own. I’ve been asking since January, so 8 months, with help with the transition program, and have got nothing. So if they’re not going to help then I’m just going to have to do it myself. There’s no more help here. I appreciate them taking me in from the hospital when I couldn’t even use the toilet. But I’ve come as far as this place will allow. It’s time.

I do not have a place to go, so it might just be the homeless shelter for me. My concern there is that I will wind up drinking to cope with it. Which is actually pretty likely. Hey, maybe I’m setting this whole thing up as an opportunity to drink again. Actually that’s probably true. I don’t know what to do anymore. But I know staying here will kill me.

It’s still very early but today I’m grateful for the laptop I’m using. It was lent to me by Bizzy, and it’s really been a lifesaver. Without it I’d probably be watching TV all day every day and being even more depressed than I already am. Fortunately this place has wifi as well.

**

**

**

**

In the bus accident the injury was to more than just my left leg. My left shoulder was damaged, my right foot was broken, two ribs were broken, and three fingers on my right hand were broken. Additionally there were several internal bodily injuries including to my bladder. As a result, since the accident I have had incontinence and urination issues.

I have difficulty urinating during the day, no matter how much I drink. At night while I’m lying down I have to urinate many times and in an urgent matter. My need to urinate does not always wake me up and I often (3-4 times per week) wind up urinating in bed.

I have gone to the urologist with no clear diagnosis. My prostate is slightly enlarged but only to the extent expected of a 48 year old man. Since the beginning I have been dealing with this by wearing diapers to bed. I have tried 3 different medications to try to alleviate my night urination and to also help me urinate more fully during the day. These medications have been unsuccessful.

The urologist has now suggested that I deal with this by using a catheter. Not a permanent or all day catheter, but by inserting a catheter 3 times per day. Once upon awakening, once mid-day, and once before bed. So I’ve been doing this for the last 4 days.

As may be expected, inserting and then removing the catheter is physically painful. But it is also affecting me emotionally and psychologically. I feel emasculated. I feel useless. I feel that I am barely even a human being anymore if I can’t control my waste.

Has it been working? Yes. At least certainly with respect to nighttime urination. Emptying my bladder right before bed helps ensure I do not have anything in my bladder to urinate, so I haven’t had any mistakes or wet sheets.

As far as using the catheter twice during the day I don’t think it’s having any effect on my night urination. The urologist said it’s to ensure my bladder can empty during the day as holding in urination can lead to negative consequences.

The urologist doesn’t seem to think surgery is an option, so this might just be something I have to live with. Is it better than wearing a diaper? I don’t know. It’s certainly more painful, and having to do it multiple times per day is painful in more than just physical ways.

This is just so pathetic. I’d worry about it having a negative affect on my chances for romance but that bus launched into outer space a long time ago. And speaking of my ex called me Wednesday and like an idiot I answered the phone so she could remind me what a piece of garbage I am. Well at least I’ve got hard plans to get out of this facility, oh wait…

Gratitude check - Today I’m grateful for the Philadelphia public library system. Its online collection of e-books, audio books, and videos (watching a great documentary called “Finder’s Keepers” right now) manage to keep me distracted and somewhat sane.

Someone helping me through this time has suggested that I write in my journal one thing I am grateful for each day. Since writing by hand can be difficult since the accident I might as well put them here - and it will also encourage me to write here on a more consistent basis.

So, without further ado, today, August 13th, 20206, I am grateful for my electric kettle which allows me to brew some instant coffee first thing in the morning long before breakfast comes around with the 8oz of decaf that is served here. I am not a coffee-addict but I do enjoy a cup first thing waking up. It helps connect me to reality after some sleep (assuming I do get sleep, but that’s a topic for another day).

My friend B and my Aunt have been particularly kind in supplying me with instant coffee and powder creamer. I am grateful to them for their support.

Instant coffee and powdered creamer is not my first choice to make a cup of joe, I prefer a French press and real cream, but I make do with what is available and it is more than I deserve. So for that I am grateful.

Today I also have a medical appointment to address another issue I haven’t written much about. I will see how it goes and maybe report back on it.

Also, please keep my Aunt in your prayers as she is going in for a test on Friday. She’s a little scared of what the result might be, understandably so. I pray God sees it to keep her healthy, but whatever the result I pray she has the strength to get through it. I know she does, she’s a fighter.

Accela Somerton was fine for a few months, but I have clearly overstayed my welcome and need to find a way to transition out. I’ve reached out to Liberty Resources (a Philly housing agency), the PCA, the “social worker”, my insurance company and they are all sending me around in circles. If this means I have to go to a homeless shelter, then that’s what I’ll have to do.

My worry is staying sober in a homeless shelter. I’ve been in shelters before. I’m grateful they are there but if you’ve never been in one it’s just really hard to stay sober in one because of the availability and the prevalence of drugs and alcohol. And what else would I do with myself anyway? I’d try to go to the library the first few days. But it’s a pattern I’ve repeated several times.

I don’t know. Everybody says there’s programs and help out there but I just get the runaround from everybody I call. That’s fine if there’s no help, I certainly don’t deserve it. But I don’t want to get drunk again and make things even worse. I just want to shut it all off. End the game. If I had access to a method I would use it.

Fuck.

So my roommate has always acted weird and angry about little things. Cursing at the TV, yelling at the kitchen because he didn’t like the food, whatever. He always threatens to beat the crap out of someone he doesn’t like for whatever reason. Fortunately he hasn’t hit anybody yet since I’ve been here, but I have been able to do some basic internet stalking research and found out about his criminal history, which is not encouraging.

Anyway, yesterday he started drinking something (smelled like whiskey) and after just a few got over-the-top angry and violent. Cursing at everything, threatening ghosts or invisible people, tossing around his plastic garbage can, and calling people on the phone and cursing not at them but at whatever the discussion was about.

Two concerns of mine - first the alcohol. Of course, we’re not “supposed” to have liquor in here, just like we’re not “supposed” to have weed or whatever, but it’s here. This is the first time he’s been drinking while I’m in the room, but I’m sure he’s had some at other times when I go out to church or with B, J and BJ. Very uncomfortable, and the smell is the thing that’s a trigger for me. I left the room and hung out in the community room for a while, but that’s a disaster of a whole other story. Took the wheelchair out for a spin up and down the halls. Whatever.

Second is his aggressive behaviour. I was not in fear for myself physically, but it is very anxiety inducing to be around someone cursing at the air and tossing garbage cans around like a lunatic. Threatening someone who he never names, but seems to blame for all his troubles. I do not like loud boisterous situations, and that’s exactly what last night was. I did my best to avoid it, ignore it, focus on something else.

Fortunately he’s been sleeping in all morning. He’s still asleep right now. So there is peace this morning. I just hope it stays this way. Living in constant anxiety is certainly something that is contributing to my stress levels.

I think of my mom during this. She was stuck in a nursing home the last few years of her life and I didn’t appreciate how lonely and distressing this environment can be. I visited her once a week for the first two years. Took her out to eat twice a month (she loved the Olive Garden and Five Guys burgers 😊) and would do her laundry, transporting the clothes in a big reusable Home Depot bag, lol. But after I became enamoured with alcohol I visited less and less. Toward the end I didn’t see her for months at a time.

I have a whole collection of phone call messages where she would call me every couple days to check on me, but I often ignored her calls because I was drunk or making a mess of things. I’ve listened to a couple, and of course they make me weep like a baby. They’re just messages telling me she loves me and asking me to call her. I don’t know whether I should listen to all of them, erase them, listen to them and then erase them, or something different.

I was a failure as a son toward the end, and I have trouble forgiving myself for that. My brother’s behaviour during that time was just as bad, possibly worse than mine, but for other reasons. I’ll write about that some other day.

I know she doesn’t hold it against me. She told me repeatedly she loved me and just wanted me to get help. I know it broke her heart when I abandoned Michelle and dreams of grandchildren went away. Oh, God, if in Heaven she has complete knowledge of how I acted and what I did back then I can only imagine her disappointment. I know she forgives me without even asking, but if someone else treated her the way I treated her I don’t think I could ever forgive that person.

Hopefully my time here will act as penance. Maybe when or if I get out of here I will be able to move past all this. But it sure feels Hellish sometimes.

Enough complaining. I’ll try to paint a bit. Thanks for reading.

Anyway, here’s the theme song that plays over the opening credits.

For whatever reason it’s really speaking to me tonight.

“The years move faster than the days, there’s no warmth in the light.

And how I miss those desert skies, your cool touch in the night.

“Benson, Arizona - the same stars in the sky

but they seem so much kinder when we watch them you and I.”

I get this feeling of impermanence from the song. Everything is a little slower and a little further away. Winding down… or winding up? Notes of sadness at separation. A little hopefulness, maybe.

I’ve listened to it a few times now, and like I said, it’s really touching me. Art does have some value now and then. Even if the song is attached to a schlock sci-fi alien monster movie that nobody’s seen in 30 years. Lol.

I’ve read Thomas Hardy’s Return of the Native, and very much enjoyed it. I read Jude the Obscure, and did not care for it. Is Tess of the D'Urbervilles worth the investment of time to read?

I do have plenty of time on my hands, but there’s a list of another hundred books on it.

Also, Lol what?

“Never miss a new book by Thomas Hardy” Well, the guy’s been dead for a hundred years so that’s probably not very likely.

Honestly, he’s one of only a few people in the world who can develop AI on his level. NiCE has found a great employee and I pray it is a productive and satisfying fit for him.

Congratulations, Bill.

I’ve mostly been using an odd assortment of brushes I’ve scavenged from painting kits, or received second hand from friends.

Not pretty, but they usually get the job done.

But while I usually choose to use the older and cheaper quality brushes, I have a whole set of beautiful brushes that J and E gave to me along with some other painting items. I’ve been recalcitrant to use them because they are so nice and I don’t want to bungle them up.

So I finally started using them and they are great! Honestly they are easier to use than the older brushes, they clean up better, and they allow me more intentional details.

I figure it’s some kind of bizarre psychological condition that compels me to use the lesser quality stuff first.

Anyway, I’m not afraid to mess up the good ones today, so hopefully the quality of my painting will improve as well.

…Procrustes, who was unique in inspiring a deadly martyrdom. He made a bed of a certain size, on which he laid the people, and according to their size, he pulled or slashed them.

Apollodorus writes that he had two beds, one small and one large. He placed the short ones on the large bed and pounded them to stretch them, and the tall ones on the small one to cut off the superfluous parts.

What does the myth teach us?

Beneath the robber’s savage and primitive crimes lie imposed equality and industrial sameness. Procrustes did not know then that his imaginary martyrdom was the root of the later globalization, the absolute equality of men.

https://www.greecehighdefinition.com/blog/the-myth-of-procrustes-bed-the-absurdity-of-equality

Anyway, Theseus came along and turned the tables on Procrustes. Throwing him on the short bed and chopping off his head.

I was chatting with a friend whom I have not treated very well over the years. I’m not sure why he remains my friend, since I have literally nothing to offer in return - perhaps pity. But I quoted Michael Jackson to him.

His response was “I tried to tell you that. But you don’t want to better yourself.”

I think he’s fundamentally right. I don’t want to be a better person. I don’t think I was always this way, but the choices I’ve made in my life now make me afraid of responsibility. Is there a way I can change this? Can I make myself want to better myself? How do I change what I desire? And if I don’t want to change what I desire than am I just going to be stuck in an endless feedback loop?

This is why I have consistently returned to thoughts of ending things. I may not want to change, but I certainly don’t want to live this way.

Finished this up the other day, just in time to give it to my friend Jo-izzy as a thank you for everything he’s done for me. He’s mentioned his kids love Godzilla, so I hope this one catches their attention.

Also working on one from Ancient Greek, then a castle after that. Or maybe I’ll do the other Godzilla I was thinking about. Hmmmm.

My painting of the solar system is pretty close to scale, although the distances between planets are not. I did not include Pluto, not because I am taking a stand on whether or not it is a planet, but because at this scale it would not be visible.

This image is a good reminder that I am not the center of the universe. That I’m relatively unimportant even on the planet I reside on.

I still have trouble accepting the situation I’m in. Not being able to stand up on my own, being relegated to a wheelchair for most of my day, occasionally taking some very precarious steps with my prosthetic. I have the feeling I’m never going to get much better with the leg, the shortness of my left leg stump precludes using the prosthetic in any meaningful manner. I think the hope for me has to be getting enough money from a lawsuit to get the osteointegration bone implant to extend the lever action of my left thigh. As it is, standing up is entirely on the strength of my right leg. As I’ve added 40 pounds to myself from lack of activity and the horrific nutrient-less food I eat, standing up and moving on one leg is even more difficult.

I feel disgusting. The fat is really starting to show in my face. I just want to cut it all off.

I’ve signed up to do some remote work for an AI company. The research I found online said it’s legit, but I’m getting some troubling signs so far. Pay is once a month and is held back a month? So for any work I do in June I wouldn’t get paid until August? That appears to be the case. Well, I guess I’ll keep doing it since I don’t have anything else constructive to do, but I will keep looking for any other opportunities.

I know Bizzy is still looking for work. It’s tragic that he’s being passed over for some of the positions he is clearly qualified or overqualified for.

I’m trying to stay in the present moment. There’s no point getting myself all anxiety’d up if I can’t change anything. What can I do today? I can choose to not drink. I can continue to look for options. I can pray.

"Sometimes we need to place love ahead of indiscriminate `factual honesty'. We cannot, under the guise of 'perfect honesty', cruelly and unnecessarily hurt others. Always one must ask, `What is the best and most loving thing I can do?'"

I’ve been struggling with honesty this past week. I should begin by admitting I have not always been a very honest person. I had difficulty being truthful growing up. I’m not sure where that came from. My parents certainly didn’t raise me that way.1 I got better in law school. And for my first ten years in my chosen profession I toed the line. Once alcohol started to take over honesty was thrown out the window, of course. I began by lying to Michelle by omission, and then just deteriorated into saying whatever I had to continue drinking.

Anyway, I’ve tried to do better in sobriety. I want to tell the truth. I’m not always successful, but I do want to. But a situation is coming where I feel intense pressure to have to lie. Even worse, I would have to lie under oath. I’m certain I would not be under oath with my hand on the Bible, the government doesn’t do that anymore, but I would have to lie under oath to get what I want.

I don’t want to do it. And I’m not sure that lying will get me what I really want out of life or what God wants for me. I’ve run it through my mind hundreds of times. I just see the alternative, being honest, as resulting in pretty unenviable situations. Remaining here for the rest of my pitiful life. Living at a homeless shelter - at which I would certainly drink. I’m not strong enough to live that life again without drinking, I just know that.

So I don’t know if lying is the solution to my problem. I don’t know if it will help. It might even hurt, if I suddenly have an influx of money I might be sorely tempted to go out and drink again. But living in poverty doesn’t seem the solution.

To be clear, this isn’t about the lawsuit against SEPTA. That’s a whole other thing and I worry I won’t actually get any money out of that for other reasons. I’ll address that topic another day.

This is about my Social Security Disability claim. I’ve filed for disability. The basis for that is my amputation makes it impossible for me to maintain gainful employment. When I have the claim hearing (probably in September at this point) I would have to testify that I’m unable to do so. Testifying that I am incapable of working is a lie. I am capable of work. Probably sedentary work of some kind, but if I can write this blog there’s no reason I can’t do data entry or call center work or whatever.

The problem I have is getting such employment. In my current situation I’m not allowed to work if I want to stay under this roof. Of course, I don’t want to stay under this roof, but I can’t start work to save up for a room. I’d have to leave and live in the homeless shelter if I want to work. I’ve lived the homeless shelter life before. There’s no way I can do that again without drinking. So probably as soon as I’d get my first paycheck I’d be off drinking again.

I’m conflicted about this. I don’t want to lie. I don’t want to lie in order to get money. Lying to save someone’s life or to spare their feelings or whatever can probably be justified, but I don’t see how lying to defraud the government (aka the taxpayers) can possibly be justified.

Yes, I’m aware that lots of people lie to get disability benefits. I’ve known many of them over the years. What they do is their business, and I don’t know their situations enough to judge them. Even if I did know all their business I still wouldn’t be in a position to judge them, since I’m apparently willing to do the same thing.

I will continue to think about this. If I can receive the benefits without a hearing, would it be all right to accept that? I wouldn’t have to testify so I’d be kind of lying by paperwork. That doesn’t count as a lie, right? Everybody lies on paperwork. Even the government lies on paperwork all the time.

So I am the lucky winner of a free week trial to AppleTV. There’s not a lot there I’m particularly interested but I will try to catch up on For All Mankind. Widow’s Bay looks interesting. I might enjoy some of Presumed Innocent.

But on my first night with it I found Highest to Lowest. A Spike Lee joint starring Denzel Washington. For those not in the know, Highest to Lowest is based on an Akira Kurosawa film, High and Low, which virtually every ransom movie since has been based on. “Along Came a Spider”, “Ransom”, “Proof of Life”, etc.

Kurosawa’s film was based on an Ed McBain novel1, I forget the name right now, it might just be High and Low, but a whole slew of films have been based on McBain’s stuff. It’s kind of poetic that a cheap noir novel from the 1950s had to go to Japan to come back to America.

If you haven’t seen the Kurosawa film or the new Spike Lee joint I recommend both. They present a disturbing moral quandary for the main character and the interesting intersections of "high and low" society. The new film has an unnecessary and uninteresting action sequence that could easily be excised without harming the film, but hey, that’s movies in the 21st Century.

AppleTV also has Napoleon (and a director’s cut, lol) which is already far too long and not a good movie except for a few action scenes - although even the action scenes don’t make much sense.