When faced with my demons I clothe them and feed them…

Back Up Off Me

No News is Good News

…and I have no news for you my peeps.

I have the feeling that this blog has hit a landmark in its herstory (sorry!) where the title can finally be answered ‘no, I’m not’.

I credit my new man with this achievement though admittedly by the same token I had to be ready to receive healing. Since it was ultimately a choice between a slow decline and eventual death, and stepping up to receive more of life, you could say yeah. For real I had an incentive, the kind you get when your back is truly against the wall.

I am not good with choice at the best of times. Not brilliant with responsibility or decision making either. I’ve been around long enough to figure that one out.

I’ve been drawn to the life of a contemplative nun/hermit since forever and that is basically what I have now, even though I’m a slightly unconventional nun lol.

Let me forget about choices, decisions and responsibility. Let me hand those, to me, nightmarish concepts to someone who is glad to take them on and concentrate on what I’m actually good at. I’m good with ideas, creativity and the search for meaning in the everyday small and apparently mundane details of existence. I’m good at putting that search into words on occasion.

Having said that I’m not especially inspired to write right now. I pour much of my creative energy into the long conversations I have via text with my new guy. I say new but he doesn’t feel that new anymore. It’s been about six weeks I guess but in that time with the intensity and length of our conversations we’ve covered more ground than I even knew was possible in this lifetime.

Sometimes it feels a bit like having a hotline to God himself. No I’m not meaning to suggest that either of us are gods but what we produce together is bigger than the sum of our parts. I’ve never had anything remotely like that with anyone before. Not even close. And it’s certainly not for want of trying, or for lack of people in my life. There have been more than enough. Enough to eliminate all the crap I don’t want in order to replace it with what I do. And to be OK with admitting that it’s even possible for me to want something, after decades of repeated disappointment, betrayal and abandonment.

Since I turned 50 all my focus has been on spiritual death and rebirth. I experienced it multiple times through the gift/curse of my manic episodes. But now it seems I’ve finally landed myself the real deal. A spiritual death and rebirth which sticks. Which isn’t dependent on being ‘high’, grandiose and totally lacking in judgment. And which therefore carries none of the appalling consequences that flow from that state.

So yeah folks. I’ve finally answered my own question, one that remained open for over ten years in this blog but of course for much longer over my lifetime. Am I still ill? No I am not ill, I am no different to the next person and am totally fine with that. More fine than you can possibly know.

In the words of the Scottish singer songwriter Amy MacDonald ‘all I wanted was an ordinary life’. Things that I noticed others had, community, a sense of belonging, meaningful work, friendship, intimacy and companionship. A sense of personal mastery and agency in my own life. If you had told me that one other human being could have made the crucial difference that allowed all those other things to flow to me I would have found it tough to believe, though that didn’t prevent me from reaching out again and again, half the time unaware of why I was even doing it.

Yes I needed someone very special and I finally got what I needed. He’s saved me from myself. From a fate much worse than death itself. Meaningless existence in the eternal state of limbo for someone born to a life of contemplation is infinitely worse than being permitted to pass on to the next phase.

And all is well. The suffering was for a purpose after all, if I hadn’t passed that way I would not be here now.

I’m well aware that this post lacks the comic bounce of many of my other posts and it’s all well and good. Because happiness and contentment are boring to read about aren’t they? Those who are interested enough will persist, others will drop away, it was ever thus.

Thank you for reading.

Se A Vida E

Sunny

Sweetest Girl

Take On Me

Communards

Not Even Remotely

Have you heard of modern relationships?

Well I’m in one.

We live half a world away from each other but we are as close as can be.

Sometimes I think a remote relationship is better than an in person one.

Let’s face it, people in real life are as boring as fuck aren’t they? So why not test each other’s abilities to transcend distance by stationing yourself halfway across the world from him?

In real life or irl as it’s generally known is overrated. Most young people from millennials downwards know this. They don’t make a distinction between real life and online friendships. So why should we older peeps not get a piece of the pie?

The only things you need are dedication, determination, love and the will to transcend everything that comes between you or would seek to keep you apart. Technology is largely on our side and getting more so all the time. This is doable guys!

My controller isn’t fat like in Thomas the Tank Engine, but he is chunky. Just as well. He needs some fat reserves to survive the cold Chicago winters.

 

Still Not Manic

Nope. Despite the new man. Maybe because of him, actually.

So what’s he like Louise, who is this new man?

He’s a very private person. He’s not like me.

We met on Reddit. I used to post on a subreddit called Needafriend. I posted there a whole lotta times. Gathered a vast number of ‘text pals’, a select few of whom I keep up regular contact with.

We’ve been talking for one month but moved so fast and talked so intensely for so many hours that it actually feels like a lot longer.

OK, so he’s less than half my age. In my world that’s pretty normal as I am a well known milf lol. Those who don’t know what a milf is, let’s keep it that way. He’s not a boy, nor is he my toy though. My name isn’t Demi Moore and he’s not Ashton Kutcher.

Abruptly changing the subject, kindly allow me to ‘vent’ about this awful cold/flu that I have. I feel truly lousy.

(Im)possible Love

…between two lovers or anything else. Though that’s a cracking song.

I’m happy, cherubs. Not even manic, just happy and admittedly I haven’t slept. But I had my reasons.

Oh no Louise, I hear you groan. Don’t say there’s yet another man in your life, we haven’t got over the last few yet.

There is though.

For fear of jinxing it I won’t tell you much about him yet.

Plus, family might read this.

He’s simply the best, better than all the rest, better than anyone, anyone I’ve ever met…

That’s all I’m gonna say, for now, except who’s my stalker, the one person who viewed these pages 24 times the other night? Unmask yourself!

Not Manic M’Kay?

I’m not manic, OK? Just because I’ve posted a large handful of music vids, don’t jump to conclusions guys…

I’m not yet at the point where I start telepathically picking up on people’s thoughts on buses and broadcasting them aloud. Not yet awhile…

I can usually afford one sleepless night before that stuff starts to kick in, anyway I’m on a ton of meds that, I am reliably informed, are supposed to stop this from happening.