finish the work before the time is up...

The spell I seemed to be under while on vacation seems to be shifting it's effect on me. I again am no longer carrying my camera with me whenever I leave the house. I am not considering asking strangers to pose for photographs. My inkling of a belief that I could tap into a source of magical wishfulness to assist in bringing about miracle-like changes is reverting to old thinking. I don't feel depressed; not the kind of syrupy, sad depression I used to indulge in. Yes, something in that mental arena has seemed to really shifted and I can't help but think it has to do with stopping the meds. Like, being on antidepressents actually made me agree on some level that I WAS depressed. And now that I state that I don't need/want those meds I've overruled the inner computer so that program no longer functions.

I've been so tired the last few days. Taking naps two or three times a day. I think this will pass though. Except that my back has really been bothering me. I've used up all of my medi-cal credit at the chiropractors office and can't go back for adjustments. So I have to figure some other way out to relieve this tension. Been especially conscious about my weight since getting home. Not that I've gained any weight (honest! I weigh the same as I did before we left on this trip) but now there is a mirror in my room and I see myself in it. I don't usually make a practice of looking at myself so much. I don't like the look. I don't feel any inspiration or strength though to deal with the problem.

I was meant to meet with a job counselor yesterday but I was too out of it to make the appointment. Hopefully she will be able to reschedule me for next week. I've been thinking about this matter; a job, my novel, making money to pay fo rmy bills... If I take on a new job it would be a good thing in many ways. But here is something new I am worrying about. I've started working on researching my family tree. I am really due to not live very long. As I've stated many times before, my father died when he was only 36 years old. Well, today I discovered that HIS father died when he was only 47 years old. I haven't gotten further up the tree yet to see if the pattern persists. I know one thing that was wrong with my father was his inability to tell anyone that he was in pain (even when he was in advanced stages of lung cancer). I go to my doctor. And he probably thinks I'm a hypochondriac for how often I'm complaining about new pains. But here is the catch-22; if I get a job now I am on the fast-track towards losing my health insurance. Maybe wanting to work is a manic thing.

So I've outlived my father and his father. Walking on thin ice. if I could just get focused. Stop thinking about living in the big world the way all the other boys do. Just look at doing one thing. Getting this book written. Forget about a career in photography. There is no money there unless i resign to shooting weddings. I mean, I could do that but I think I'd come to hate it. I already hate just the idea of it. No, I think my purpose is to write this book. It is the one thing I can do that will express everything about my life. it is a form of salvation you know? Getting all of my demons out so that when I return in the next life I will have freed myself of all this karma. And maybe even bigger than that, free my relatives of their karmas too. Yes, I'm going to kick the novel back up a few notches on the importance level. Change my attitude so that I will write SOMETHING about it/of it every day. I know I can do it. I just need to do it.

Well, the cafe is closing so I will sign out now.