Playing Dominoes

Actually I don't know how to play dominoes. It always looked and felt hard to understand, so it was not one of the games I learned how to play, but dominoes, in theory, play a big part in the way I live my daily life.

This is what my mind looks like on any given day = jumbled and in disarray.

You see, with a mental illness, I have to control, or try to control, certain aspects of my life, in order for me to carry on with my life. I have a way I do that = it's a secret, not going to divulge it, but it works for me = I call it "lining up all the dominoes" =

or "putting all my ducks in a row" =

. . . and it works, for a while . . .

then the feeling of peace gradually starts to fade away and I'm left back at Square One, but I can't start over, not today, anyway, not right now. I have to wait until a light switch goes on in my head and you see, I'll be ready, again, to put the dominoes in a row. But those times are few and far between.

But, when it happens, it's like working a puzzle, jigsaw or crossword, because I have to find "what goes with what". . . what should I do first ?

You know, connectivity =

There is an old Chinese philosophy of "yin and yang", two dual personalities working inside one mind, which is constantly what is going on in my head and it has been said that around holidays, the feelings that my mental illness triggers, starts working overtime. 

I know the meaning of Christmas very clearly and I respect that every December 25th, but I don't decorate my house anymore like I used to a long time ago. I don't like the commercialism of Christmas, the gifts, the money spent, sending cards, or decorating. 

FYI = the yin and yang are playing ping-pong in my head right now, making it hard for me to put the right words down that make sense to me and to whoever reads this. 

What was I saying? Oh yeah, this is what I'm thinking anyway = 

"I'm a spiritual person, not a religious one, which I have said many times over the years. A lot of people don't understand this concept, especially the ones who quote Bible verses to make a point or answer you back with a Bible quote, when all you want is a simple answer to a simple question= they're too organized, religion is too organized. That kind of organization, I do not need. Just tell me what time it is = I don't want to know how the watch or clock is actually put together."

Call me a non-believer, if you will, but I'm not.

On this cold Christmas Eve 2016, there is sadness in the air, for me anyway, even though lining up the dominoes and getting all the ducks in a row, worked, for a while, but that feeling is beginning to wear off and my mind is restless now, jumping from one thought to another, thinking of words that just pop into my head, but at some time later in the night, I will hear that word or see that word somewhere. My abuser's face, his name and his whispering voice, jump into my head, playing games with my sanity, throwing me off balance, way off balance. 

My brain seems to pick up on "something" = just something, I don't know what it is, just something out there in the universe that is determined to be part of my thought process right now and it certainly was not invited, it just showed up.

Last night, when my heart started beating funny and I thought I was going to have to call "911", is the same time that someone in the news had a heart attack. Not sure if that is connected, but it gives me a very weird feeling, sets me apart from everyone around me, because no matter what you believe, I believe I am alone in what I feel, think, express or demonstrate. It is what is, whatever "it" is . . .

Right now, I feel like I'm on a boat at sea, drifting slowly along, completely alone, with the red sky at sunset as my companion . . .

. . . and sometimes I feel like I'm this person in this picture posted below = 15 years old, sitting in the grass with my nephew, maybe I'm 16, because it looks like I'm showing off my class ring, which the school principal paid for = not really sure who I am, not sure of where I'm going, but keenly aware of what people think of me, keenly aware of what people are calling me, knowing the abuse I have suffered as a child will somehow shape the rest of my life, but no one seems to pay attention to me in that respect, you know, someone who needs help sorting out the details of their life thus far, a person who needs guidance, a person who needs a father's guiding words and hands, from a father who has always been absent from my life. 

People still make fun of me, but they try to frame it in a point of reference to something they've read or seen on TV, about a gay person, thinking I will relate to it, but the comment still comes across like it did 55 years ago, with a hearty dose of laughter at the end of the comment, as if the person is saying, "it's a joke, get it" = no, I don't get it.

But, really look at that hand gesture, with the skinny arm, that would make you automatically think something of me, wouldn't it ? = I don't know, you tell me . . . but something like that was always the frame of reference when someone made me the butt of their joke.

Going completely off track = it is said that when you cross over to the Other Side, you are completely alone, no matter who is sitting by your bedside, because they won't go with you, they will stay put and you will go to your Forever Home by yourself. I am not afraid of Death, but I am afraid of that exact moment when you cross over to the Other Side, I am afraid of that moment.

But, that is another kind of aloneness, the one that is your own, the one you have to acknowledge =

There is no one there who can help you, no one there who can say the "right" word that will make your exit any easier, so I will probably leave this world just like I entered it = a spirit lingering in a physical body until it is time for God to set it free =