“Writing on writer’s block

Haven’t slept in days, they want to put me in the psycho watch”

I have been having a nightmare of a time writing anything of consequence lately. I did some fluffy blogs for my wife’s… excuse me, OUR small business (That’s for you, Burger).

They’re actually fun to write, though. I spent years in customer service, and one of my favorite things to do was to be over the top with positivity. Customers like it, and co-workers that know you are a perpetual stormy cloud get a kick out of it as well. Writing blurbs on social media for the business is the same thing. I just get so pumped up that I am brimming with sarcastic joy.

The fun part is that it turns into actual joy. Funny how that works.

As for writing, I am working on a book. Like, actually putting pen to paper, finally.  While I am finding the process creatively fulfilling, it’s a memoir, which means I need to return to a frame of mind that can weigh me down. Sometimes, doing that is too much, but I can only write from a raw emotional state (Man, I sound like a douche.)

Anybody who can write a review of three of my blog posts will get a free copy, coming in 20XX to a bookstore near you!

I’ve been trying to force it, which A, makes me pissy, and B, is not working. What I get instead is staying up until 5 AM, making and then deleting stupid comments on X while completely zooted. It’s not a bad life, but it is complicated.

“Worried Im’a lose control

They rufflin’ my feathers and shuffling the Yu-Gi-Oh”

I have a history, one that includes being pulled back from the edge of the Abyss by my wife. Since then, I have done a decent job of maintaining a mental health regimen that includes medication, introspection, and gardening.

Side note: Medication saved my life. Some people will say otherwise, and I get it. I was on the wrong med for years and it completely fucked with me. Don’t give up on the first try is all I’m saying.

While I have everything under control, it is still ups and downs and peaks and valleys daily. The peaks are just a lot lower and the valleys much shallower, if that makes sense.

I’m home alone a lot. I work from home now, I go to school predominantly online, with a campus course sprinkled in here or there, and I just don’t leave much. My wife, on the other hand, is often gone for days at a time. She sneaks home when she can for a quick bite, but she is often working overnights throughout the Summer.

I’m completely cool with it; we are each other’s person.

That being said, my aforementioned mental health journey is still in the background. The fact that I am even left alone by my wife speaks volumes about her level of trust and where I am as a person. Still, she’s always poking at me, whether through texts, calls, or games of chess and checkers, she manages to make me not feel alone.

While she trusts me, she is often ruffling my feathers.

Speaking of checkers, evidently, it’s a game that has been “solved,” although I refuse to look it up. My wife and I are leaning more into chess these days anyway, which has way more moves and is thankfully not solved. I like playing games with my wife because I can see her evolve in real time. It’s impressive to watch her process and learn as she goes and most games become me getting my ass kicked repeatedly.

While the Burger may be the queen of Risk, Castle Risk is still my domain. Undefeated, baby!

My lovely wife is currently ruffling my feathers; she just texted me, and now we are exchanging SpongeBob gifs.

“My brain fried, always chasin’ the same high

I’m too fucked up to function, do nothin’ but waste time”

I used to hide from my life by drinking. It wasn’t until I worked at a brewing company that I stopped. Yes, I was a teetotaler and a beer salesman. Access to that much free beer was enough for me to tap out. It’s like when a parent makes their kid smoke a whole carton of cigarettes at once.

 These days, I just smoke a lot of weed. Like, A LOT. I’m in the middle of a grow right now and I am getting excited. I also have benzos, but honestly, they don’t get me fucked up. My anxiety is usually about to burst by the time I take one, and aside from wanting a nap sometimes, they usually bring me to baseline.

My brain doesn’t usually get fried from smoking. I have a cumulative 3.9, and I’ve been going to school high for the entire duration. I don’t know why I am sharing this. It would seem my insecurity about being a pothead is leaking. I don’t even know why I feel shame about it at all. I love weed.

Even so, being a peaks and valleys person means that you are always chasing something. Whether it’s a real high because life is running you over, or a metaphorical high where you just get one day without depressing thoughts creeping in, we are all on the hunt.

When I am in a valley, which I have been recently, all I seem to do is sit while time goes by. I go on X and Reddit, check Reuters, and the AP over and over, and I let hours melt off the clock. I couldn’t even tell you what I read, and sometimes, I catch myself switching sites every few seconds. It’s fucking weird.

I’m hopeful that getting back into writing anything will pull me out of my rut. Writing is therapeutic, and it usually helps me work stuff out.

I think I’m going to go mow the lawn.

Stay crescent fresh,

Jared