Bad Day Off, Then a Good One

Yesterday, the power was off. I mean, total gloom and discomfort here. No tv, no computer, no fan, no a/c. Gosh, we couldn't even cook anything.

I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling most of the day. I was listening to my radio that was powered by the batteries from my MSNTV2 keyboard. It was so lame.

I will forget that day because it was despairing and uncomfortable.

Oh, three more days until I go to the Garden Center. The anxiety is rising.

I got the new Madonna cd. Ay ya! So what if I like her so? I always have since I was a small kid in the early 80's. It would be even cooler if Timbaland stayed on his own records and Justin T. went off to be the no-talent cretin he is.

Today was nice. the power came back on and things were happening once again.

I slept badly last night. I am so sleepy now so I'm closing this post out.

Check out 'Give It 2 Me' by Madonna. It's wicked cool.

Just Awful

Yesterday, I guess I did something wrong and took out a pallet of beer and damaged a steel shelf it rested upon. I refuse to admit that I am the sole cause of this and there will be NO MORE said about this incident.

That said, I feel slightly better than the suicidal crush that accompanies the down part of my depressive cycle. I thank my doctor, and the Celexa-clone. It came just in the nick of time and calmed me down.

Three more days in that God-awful area of the cesspit.

I'm okay. Like my dear one said, 'it's okay'.

Yes, Jen, it is.

See ya'll later.

Soooo Tired

I busted my tail today and didn't get one complement.

I have to find a new job. I will go insane if I do not. Enough said.

I am sooooo tired. I don't know why. The meds or the constipation IU have because of the antibiotic, or because my system is breaking down. I do have chest pains sometimes and my head gets light. That ain't a good thing. This boy is no longer the solid boy he once was.

Terrible, really. I mean, people in general. There is too freaking many of us. The world was never meant to hold this many humans and it will take a great equalizer, like an asteroid imapct or pandemic flu or something like that to even things out. If I am caught up in it, oh well. My life means nothing anyway.

I have Social Phobia. It is managed by the Celexa-clone (properly citalopram hydrobromide), but but even it cannot stem the tide of discomfort I feel when stressed. I am not stressed on days off because I am free to avoid it. Not so at that cesspit.

I wish people would respect that. Hurting mentally is worse than physically hurting sometimes.

All that aside, I am fulfilling a long held goal soon. I will dye my hair a lovely shade of purple. Why? Why not? I think it looks cool. Purple to me doesn't mean a damn thing other than a compromise between my favorite color (blue) and my least favorite color (red).

I guess I need to go to sleep now. See you kids later.

Feeling Dizzily

I don't know if it is the meds or the lack of caffeiene but I feel soooo dizzily. Dizzily? What's that? Simply put, my mind is a frothy mush much like you might find in a DQ Blizzard after it melts a little.

I don't know if this is good for me. Then I get yelled at all day by people. Grrrrr! They can kiss my untannable ass. I don't know why I still exist, to be truthful but it sure ain't to be a catch net for a bitch fit.

I bought me some fit-over sunglasses finally. The Sun has been murder on my eyes as I drive to work. I do not care what people think. I cannot afford contact lenses and I really hate poking myself in the eyes to put them in. I wore them most of the year of '99. Always felt like something was in my eyes. Well, duh, genius, there was.

I hate wearing glasses but I have to. I am like majorly blurrily blind without them and I have zero depth perception and two different images for my mushy brain to process as both eyes are wildly different in focal points and sight.

Like my left eye is very noticeably worse than my right. The optometrist (eye doc) says that is typical. I have worn glasses since I was 12. Strangely, I could see fine before then, I thought.

Now I'm told that I am unattractive without them. Well, I guess so. I am a cutey and all.

I am dyeing my hair purple. I hope to go to a trance club and I will take my girlfriend because she complains that I never take her anywhere. She doesn't like trance music like I do but maybe she will once she sees the effect it has on people. Lol, it makes me drive faster like an idiot.

I wonder how purple hair on a relatively young guy would go over at wm. Like I care. I'm going to be working outside a lot in the garden center. I bought sunblock lotion and my sunglasses for this. I wanted to get SPF 70 but it was a spray and I don't know about that. I got Aveeno SPF 45. I'm like addicted to Aveeno. I use multiple products from them like the vital daily moisturizing lotion. I'll itch all day without it.

I don't care if you think that is effiminate of me. I have horribly dry skin. I carry hand lotion with me at work because my hands get cracky and will bleed. Like they care. I must protect myself a lot there, you know? I take the Celexa-clone to protect my mushy brain from there.

Never mind that my anxiety comes complete with a soul-crushing depression, shame and suicidal feelings. Funny how I didn't have it before I worked there. I have always been shy. The Celexa-clone brings me out of my shell if only for a few hours of the day.

I wear purple sometimes. Why? Why not? I think it looks good on me. If others don't like it, then they need to revise their opinions of themselves for being Philistines unworthy of the intelligence graced upon them.

I feel dizzily yes. I'd better go to sleep. See y'all kids later.

Pain Subsiding (I hope)

I have noticed a sharp decline in pain within either testicle, though that comes and goes. Also, the prostate itself seems to be behaving. I am not quite sure what appears to be blood in my pee is blood. The main stream is the bright yellow thanks to the Pyrida or whatever it's called I am taking for urinary pain. Within the stream is a diffuse red that disperses in the toilet wanter. If it was the med's effect, would it not have already mixed in the pee while it was still inside?

I only have enough Pyrida for two more doses. My pee should return to normal tomorrow night. Pain suppressed by the med may return. If the red persists in my pee, than it is blood and I will go to the ER.

It became certain today. I am becoming a Garden Center Associate. It promises to be hard work. I don't mind that. I am at last becoming free of that what grinds on my anxiety there.

I will not like working in that store no matter what job I have. I just do not like the town it is in or the facility itself, a monolithic structure dedicated to wm's greed.

Do I feel better emotionally? Hard to say. I'm so freaking sleepy because I hade no caffeine today. I won't make that mistake tomorrow. I don't care if my prostate won't like it. I reckon it will hurt no matter what I do.

For all you guys that don't know what a prostate is, buy a brain and use it to learn about your own bodies. 1 in 3 males will have prostate problems. I unfortunately am one of those who do.

Gosh, it knows I am talking about it. A pulse of pain just ran through it, an evil sensation across the inside of my groin, through the perineum, and the rectum.

TMI? Bwahaha! If you weren't so prudish, it wouldn't bother you.

Gotta go, a t-storm is raging outside. I hate them as much as I hate cantaloupes and I hate those wretched things.

Losing More than Hope

Ew, more melancholy to stain my new blog.

Really, though, I do not like even going to the doctor. I costs too much and I end up with worse than the normal anxiety. Having a digital rectal exam changed the way I look at going to the doctor. Mine is an older, very experienced doctor in a small town. He is more methodical than caring and I never once felt comfortable in his presence. He works in what can be described as a country clinic, a deceptively nice place full of apathetic women, a few caring nurses, and doctors who have been around longer than I've been alive, and that is 32 years.

My insurance, deceptively good BCBS, doesn't cover some things that should be basic. I mean, most of the time, the doc just asks questions, takes my temp and bp, and writes a prescription. Is throwing medicine at the problem the only way to treat it?

I don't know. I mean, I just don't care. My job is like a week in hell every week. The head manager of our side of the store is a demoness in a pretty skin. There is no care, it's apathy, maybe even malavolence there.

I almost committed suicide last year. Every day, I am growing to wish that I did. However, it was the Paxil that gave me the nerve to do it and I no longer take that awful med. I am a sorry excuse for a human male.

Contest this if you like.

My examples are, I do not have children. I spend my free time with my mind somewhere else, either writing or playing old Playstation games on this aging ps2. I don't go out unless it is to go to the store and even then, I like wearing purple sometimes and I don't like people to see me in that lest they think I am 'queer'. I am not. I have a girlfriend, but my relationship with her is a study of how NOT to conduct a relationship.

I won't blame Jen for that. It is my fault for not being clear with her. I don't want to hurt her feelings.

Maybe I will be a ghost when I am gone. For now, it is only online, sadly.

Simple? Not At All

My pain moderates, comes and goes. My testicle is still swollen and there is blood in my pee. Tell me that something is not wrong. I went into panic mode when I saw that blood. I went and told my manager (only known as R here) and she said that is bad but did not offer any compassion or to let me go.

The last four times I have peed, the blood has faded away, but is still there. I have come to dread urinating. It is shockingly yellow and tinted red-orange. This is because of Phenazopyrid, a urinary painkiller that the ER doc precribed for me. The blood is because of ??? I am being sent to an urologist by my regular doc.

I cannot do the M-thing. The secretions involved are all tinted this disturbing yellow color. Besides that, my scrotum hurts on the left side (even now as I sit here). Think my employers care? Like Matt says. They don't care if you live or die.

My friend Devin had a heart condition. He was like 21 years old. Last year, he collapsed and died right behind the meat market cooler door. What did they do? Nothing. They posted a picture of him and made little ribbons.

The people I have come to absolutely despise did nothing and they are in charge.

What if I am redered sterile by this? Unlikely. There is nothing wrong with my right testicle. A darker prospect is prostate cancer. My maternal grandfather died of it. But I will ask the doctor about that.

Why shouldn't I be sad? Why did this happen?

I am off for the next 2 days. Maybe it'll be better as the meds take effect.

I imagine I will nap a lot. Seems that I do that more often these days.

Sad Ghost

The ER doc said take a few days off. His paper says so. However, wm won't accept it just because it isn't a wm form. This is the straw, so to speak. The decision has been made. I am leaving that putrid cesspit. I do not wish to leave wm. That is all about that. No rancor in this blog.

I am sad because of that. Because my left testicle is swollen and hurts. I cannot sit for any amount of time because of it and gosh, try wearing jeans. The shocking yellow-orange pee is disturbing. I thought it would be cool but not anymore.

My suidical thoughts are coming back because of this and because of that thing mentioned in the fore of this post. I cannot do my usual to relieve them. I hurt too bad.

Nobody cares. Sure, no one wants to hear that. However, it is true.

I wish my friend Matt was right. How easy it is to leave. But it is not. I face the dark prospect of not seeing my girlfriend a lot. That may be for the better. She and I have a frosty relationship that really never changes. Maybe she will thaw a little if she didn't see me only at work.

Iwant to go crawl into a shell and not come out. That is my anxiety talking. It is powerful and governs what and how I do things. Odd that it remained complacent when I stood half naked while the doctor did an exam. I guess pain overrides that.

I came up with Arthelius the Ghost because I saw that as a fitting end for my rp character, but also, I kinda want to be him. Consigned to an ever annoying chore, watching over the peoples, offering dry advice and odd humor.

The reality of my life would stain this blog. I won't speak of it here.

I feel sad, yet again. Maybe the Celexa-clone will wash it away.

I hope so.

Ay ya in the ER

I went to the hospital I was born in to see to this infection. My scrotum/left testicle are swollen in addition to the prostate pain.

The ER doctor was congenial and cool. I did not feel threatened by him at all, not like my normal doc. Why go to the ER? It's a weekend and it was at 10 pm. Genius. No thanks to wm. Uncaring bastards. Let's see them eat the 4-day relief from work courtesy of the cool doc.

What he did, ha ha. So I'm half naked, wearing only my shirt. He had a look at my genitals, then my scrotal area and actually squeezed both testicles. That is how I know the left one is swollen. That felt extremely uncomfortable whereas the right one was fine. I never had a test like that. I kinda thought it was fun.

That's weird, I know. At least someone paid attention to what is ordinarily a good piece of equipment.

It hurts awfully, especially when I pee. The meds he gave me, he said, will turn said pee funny colors and not to be alarmed by that. I'm not. I think it will be cool.

Oh, and Arthelius does have a peeny. He just hides it under a spectral robe.

Gosh, all I got is Hanes. I'm envious, lol.

The ER in my hometown was kinda dead. Just like my hometown at night. I miss that place.

Right. This ghost needs to eat something. See ya'll later.

Oh, Hurting....

My usual peculiar humor escapes me today. I don't mean to be sour. I called a nurse line and one asked the questions relating to prostatis. She asked me something that not even my doctor asked or saw on me the last time this happened. 'Are your testicles swollen or tender?'

To be truthful, I never thought about that. I am not usually aware of my testicles for whatever reason unless something touches them. Now, yes, the scrotal sack is swollen slightly. Both of the gonads are tender. Ew, TMI? No, KMA, because this is my blog.

Naw, peeny ain't involved. Unless pee pressure builds and presses in the sore prostate or the urethra that goes through it. The genius solution to this is not to drink anything so I don't pee. This is both foolish and dangerous. I am getting sicker because of that and this condition affects my whole body. It may be a bacterial infection, which I have just got over one in my respiratory system. I feel that pain again. I feel awful.

I watch my pee intently. I expect blood in it at any time. It scares me because if my prostate is damaged, then I will never have children.

That is unlikely. The body is a resilient thing.

Ew, for real. I can't wear snugly fitting underwear, which I like to do. My scrotal area is sore and hurts when touched. Just try taking a shower with that. I won't wear boxers. I hate them. I like trunks and mid-rise underwear best. At any given time, it is usually the same or a close color match to my shirt.

Now, it hurts. I must see a doctor. I can't get time off from that putrid cesspit I work in. I have no money at the moment.

It's all stupid.

I wish I was really a Jedi ghost.

A Hard Day

Life today leaves one to think that nothing matters. I mean, oh man, my prostate is hurting again. Try to pee with that. It's like the pee is acid and burns. Sometimes, I lose feeling in my peeny. That is not so worrisome. The darn thing has embarrassed me in the past. So what if it goes offline for a while? It ain't like me and Jen are that kind of couple.

Ah, how personal. A ghost's peeny? Does he even have one? Arthelius won't say.

I said I won't write about work here and I won't. All I'll say is that working in 18th Century London as a chimney sweep or factory worker was better. Ew, chanmber pots. Watch out when walking under the windows, chap.

Really, though, it is hard to do anything when one hurts. This feeling affects my whole body. Never mind that malaise the Celexa-clone brings. It is worse on my days off. It's like going days without sleep despite sleeping for 11 hours that night before.

Oh, problems. When was the last time I felt good?

I can't quite remember but I'm positive Jen was involved. She works better than any med in helping me. That is why I value her so. Love is like that.

I'll get through another week, I suppose. Unless there is blood in my pee. I am morbidly fascinated by that. In one aspect, that would be kinda cool.

Now tell me that I am not mentally ill?

Bwahahaha!

Hello

Hello. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Gregory. I am in my early 30's and I work in a putrid cesspit den of iniquity that bills itself as the greatest of all wm's. That is hardly the case.

This blog isn't about that. That drivel belongs on my Myspace blog. This is the one I have wanted to make for a long time now.

The whole ghost thing comes from how I feel when I have the shyness that is one main component of my diagnosed Social Anxiety Disorder, or Social Phobia. It is a devastating condition and is managed by generic Celexa, which has solemnent side effects, making my mind feel like mush 2 to 5 hours after I take it, usually around 11:30 AM and PM.

Arthelius is the name of the ghost of my dead role play character, known back then as Jedi-Gregory. He mainly haunts a scrubland cave on a dusty planet in the Empress Teta star system. Or rather, a silly online persona.

In the crushing ways of reality, I am a nobody scrub. I have a scrub job. My girlfriend, my dear one, one whom I love more than most things, is as cold as anywhere in the Kuiper Belt.

What is this about? Oh, just ramblings, I suppose. I am literate and try to keep up with things, when Celexa-clone isn't pulling me into the trippy 'don't care' mode. That makes for an excellent nap time.

I'll try to keep this up to date. When my pc, or rather, Vista, decides to cooperate.

Take care, my friends.