it's Been a Minute.

    I don't know where I left off. I left my wife and kids. This ruined everyone's lives.  

     I was implicated  in an impaired driving suit that killed a beautiful family. 

    

     I developed an impressively destructive substance abuse pattern trying to live with the loneliness and guilt of destroying my family. 

     I went through 3 relationships after that, one of which still really hurts, one of which was pretty fucking traumatizing, one of which was really unfair to the other person, as I was in a state of complete dissociation the entire time and used her as escape.

     I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder after the last relationship, and have been dabbling in videos, articles and chats about DBT, mindfulness and such.

 .    I've been radicalized a couple of times, sliding further to the left politically all the time.    

 .    I'm trying not to become obsessive about politics and other demons that consume me ,and mindfulness techniques have been pretty helpful. I lost my father over the last few years as well, had no relationship with my kids. I went homeless a couple of times, cut off a lot of friendships during COVID, isolated, went to rehab a couple of times. I lived in one of the worst buildings in the city, amidst the social detritus of the addictions and mental health pandemic. I didn't realize it l, but I stopped eating.  I had no appetite, would seldom hit 1000 calories per day.  That level of malnutrition causes a lot twisted thinking.  I attempted suicide twice in that time.  When I realized it, saw how crazy I'd gone, I decided I needed to climb out.  I hadn't worked in at least a year, and my last few jobs had ended badly, as I was incapable of giving any fucks about anything (dissociation). 

     I took advantage of some employment funding, and I got certified as an Emergency Medical Responder.   I needed it to get work as a remote camp cook and medic opportunity a friend had turned me on to. I clawed my way out of the hole I'd been living in. 

    I've been spending half my life in tents in forests and mountains across the north since then.  About 3 years now.
     I've been single for about 3 years as well now. Primarily due to learning that unmanaged BPD destroys people.  I can very much relate to the old Sanskrit "I am become death, destroyer of worlds."  I also learned that when not in a relationship, one with BPD is virtually asymptomatic, and I don't want to jeopardize my re-integration to the world getting all fucked over some fallen angel or broken-winged dove.

     More recently I got out of  the cesspool of downtown.  

      I live with a room mate now, a girl I worked with a decade ago, purely platonic.  

     We live on the top floor of deteriorating but still beautiful manor, in a bustling neighbourhood.

     She fosters cats, which I love.  I've foster failed twice, and now have 2 cats of my own.  I think they've been instrumental in pulling me up.  Unconditional love is a nice thing.  

 .   I also bought a Jeep TJ, the expenses of which have kept me out of saloons.  It's been instrumental as well.  As much as I hate to admit it, having a chronic feeling of intrinsic worthlessness, I get a self esteem boost from the Jeep.  I bought raybans and old school leather bomber as well, which have built my confidence. 

I also get my thrillseeking demons out in the Jeep, a far healthier outlet.

     I've been looking after myself a lot better over the last year.  Paddling adventure are one of my newest and favorite hobbies.   

Most importantly though, I am re-solidifying my relationships with my children. My youngest wouldn't let me even give them a ride throughout high school until this fall.  But it's been consistent, and we are having good conversations.

I started concerta, which I think helps me engage.  It helps me apply DBT skills as well when having trouble with tough emotions like anger or shame.

Anyway, that's all for now.  Catch up done.  Expect more content.

   

Honk If You Treasure Moments

I live in the middle of a Canada Goose flyway, and for the most part I always have.  In the fall they can blacken the sky at times.  It's seemingly endless, awesome in it's scope, a 24 hour per day phenomenon. They come over in delta shaped squadrons, hundreds at a time, honking and squawking 10,000 feet up and always climbing.

 In the day when the traffic is heavy and the planes are flying over you have to search them out, listen close for them. At night, when only the occassional whoosh of faraway cars breaks the night, when light spills out from doorways and windows onto night black grass in soft yellow polygons, you can't miss them. You can hear them barking from miles away, growing louder, not a trace of them in the sky, then like a quick storm they're overhead, white silhouettes against a black sky. Listening to them tonight I wondered how many more seasons I'll have of this. 20 more, 40? Who knows? I could be gone tomorrow for all I know. It made it that much more precious for me. And from thoughts on the fleeting nature of my corporeal self, from thoughts of impermanence, I drifted to thoughts of how long the geese have been flying over this piece of land. My city has only been here for a century. Were they flying over the place where my chair sits now then. A hundred years before that? Will they one day fly across a wasteland that was once us, or will we one day recollect days when they filled the sky, straining in our imaginations to hear their abrasive honks again?  i guess its best just to enjoy the moment for now. 

fuck winter

Winter sucks for me. I'm medicated year round in order to cope with the shorter hours of daylight thanks to SAD. Personally I think SAD is a genetic trait,a form of hibernation handed down from nomadic tribes. I get an incredible urge to move away, change jobs, change everything in my life every October, and if I haven't, I fall into a somewhat hibernative state. Right now I'm laying on my couch half awake, half asleep. I moved it in front of the window because the sun is shining, and bright lights are one of the treatments for this. I've felt this way for a few days now. If you know me at all, you would know that I am by no means a lethargic person. I've been accused of being 'on' all the time, of not being able to sit still. People comment on my incredible energy level, my optimism, my lack of temper as remarkable. None of that applies at this time of year. SAD isn't just wanting to do nothing. It's wanting to stop being. It's wishing for death at various points throughout the day, because the thought of all the days in front of you are overwhelming. It's not wanting anyone around you because you are disgusted with your own weakness and ashamed that you can't just 'man up'. It's wanting to sleep 18 hours a day, and still feeling drained when you're awake. I fight it every year, and I fight it hard. Every morning I take 5mg of cipralex, a b100, 4000iu of vitamin d, ginseng, fenugreek, vitamin C, and a coffee. I avoid sugars and fats, and I try to run about 3 times per week on the treadmill. I have had 2 good winters, both when I was marathon training. The other years, since I was about 17 or so have been a consistent battle to get as close as I can to April without breaking down completely; destroying my relationships, losing/quitting my job, destroying my health. I need to run to beat this. I hate the drugs I'm on because they barely impact this, but they do help a bit. I am not suicidal, but I want to die. I want to be hospitalized for something that will keep me bedridden and sedated for the next 2 months. Failing that I want to win the lottery. If I did, I would sleep, or move somewhere sunny. I hate myself for being like this. I promised myself I would run today. When the sun leaves the front window I'll do that.

Hungry Like the Wolf

With spring in the north comes the renewed possibility of animal encounters. I've had more than a few sightings already up here; bears, wolves and foxes mainly. I used to fear bears more than any other animal in the wilderness. These days it's the wolves that I'm worried about. I work in Northern Saskatchewan, where the first recorded fatality from a wolf attack on the continent occurred. The mine I worked at previous to this still employed a survivor of another wolf attack in 2005. The further we encroach into their territory, the more often the encounters seem to turn for the worse. I found this list of notable wolf attacks throughout history on wikipedia, and it's a pretty sobering compilation. A more detailed list of every known wolf attack ever can be found here Caen, France (1632-1633)[edit] Between 1632 and 1633, a wolf killed over 30 people in the forest of Cinglais a few kilometers south of Caen in Lower Normandy. Survivors of its attacks nicknamed the animal "Therende", and described it as being the size of a mastiff, with a reddish pelt, pointed tail and heavily muscled hind quarters. In June 1633, the local count organized a large-scale hunt, conscripting 5,000-6,000 men for the job. After a pursuit lasting three days, the wolf was fatally shot with an arquebus.[44] Gévaudan, France (1764-1767)[edit] Engraving depicting the beast of Gévaudan (1764). Between June 1764 to June 1767, in the Gévaudan region of France, wolves attacked at least 210 people, 110 of which died. Of the victims who died, 98 were partially eaten. The attacks spurred a large-scale hunt, during which a large portion of the local population was conscripted to join the army, several nobles and royal huntsmen in pursuit of the animals. Several wolves were killed, though the attacks only stopped after two wolves were shot in autumn 1765 and June 1767 respectively. Both animals were noted for their unusually large size and atypical coloring. The incident has been featured in numerous works of fiction, including the 2001 action film Brotherhood of the Wolf, which greatly embellished the story.[45] Lombardy, Italy (1765)[edit] On November 21, 1765, in the Lombard commune of Orio Litta, a female wolf bit sixteen people, a dog and a horse. Its final victim was a man who, despite receiving bites to the face and hands, managed to suffocate it to death with the help of his nephew. All the victims were immediately taken to a hospital in Lodi, where fourteen of them died. Before being buried, the wolf's carcass was dissected, and confirmed to have been rabid. As a result of this incident, all domestic animals that had been in contact with the wolf or had been left unsupervised during its rampage, were ordered to be destroyed. On December 24, another rabid wolf, probably infected by the previous animal, bit a number of people and dogs in Cassano d'Adda. On Christmas Eve, the wolf entered Rivolta d'Adda, attacking a sentry, who escaped unscathed. The wolf attacked three more people before being shot to death by soldiers. The next day, it was reported that many houses bore the tooth marks of the wolf on their doors.[18] Gysinge, Sweden (1820-1821)[edit] Between December 30, 1820 and March 27, 1821, near Gysinge in Uppland, near the border of Dalarna and Gästrikland in central Sweden, a wolf attacked 31 people, resulting in the deaths of 12 people. With the exception of one 19-year old woman, all victims of fatal attacks were children between the ages of three and a half, and 15; in addition, the 15 injured victims were mostly children, except for one 18-year old male. After the wolf was killed on March 27, 1821, it was discovered that the wolf was captured as a pup in 1817, and kept in captivity for several years before escaping.[46] Saskatchewan, Canada (2005)[edit] On November 8, 2005, 22 year old Kenton Joel Carnegie, a geological engineering student working in Points North Landing, Saskatchewan, had gone for a walk and didn't return to the geological surveyors' camp where he was working. His body was found partially consumed in an area known to be frequented by four wolves which regularly fed on human refuse. The pathologist who performed the autopsy, testified Carnegie had lost about 25% to 30% of his body mass in the attack, with the top midsection to the thigh having been partially consumed. Although originally the possibility that the culprit was a black bear was not ruled out, a coroners' jury concluded after a two year inquiry that the attackers had indeed been wolves.[47] Chignik Lake, Alaska, USA (2010)[edit] On March 10, 2010, 32 year old Candice Berner, a teacher and avid jogger living near Chignik Lake, 475 miles southwest of Anchorage, was discovered dead along a road by snowmobilers, who found wolf tracks in the adjacent snow. The Alaska State Medical Examiner ruled that her death was caused by "multiple injuries due to animal mauling." A series of necropsies performed on wolves culled in the surrounding area shortly after the attack ruled out rabies, sickness, or wolf-dog hybridisation as being causes of the attack. The case was notable as being the first fatal wolf attack in North America in which DNA evidence was gathered to confirm wolf involvement.[48]

Hopeless Romantic in 4 Low

I am a hopeless romantic, but not in the traditional sense. I like the romance of solitude. I find untold satisfaction in getting away from it all. When I was young it was my heart's desire to travel the world, see all it's most exciting places, meet as many people as I could. These days I'm more about decompressing. I don't care for the things of man anymore. I prefer forests, oceans, rivers, deserts and clear mountain mornings as a cowboy once said. It's not that I'm a misanthropist by any means. I like people, I like friends and beer and good times and I love my girl. There are times, when the world comes in too close for too long, that fresh air, peaceful thoughts and a good sunset are all I need or want. All of my spare time activities are centered around activities that provide me this escape into meditative self. Running and longboarding are the obvious ones, but not quite so obvious is the romance of my Jeep. My Jeep is nothing special as far as Jeeps go. It's old, it's beat up, it could use some TLC cosmetically. But I keep it up, and it serves me well. There is a romance between man and machine, and when I'm working on my Jeep, alone in the garage with some soul feeding music going, I'm easily in as much a Zen state as any monk might be. Yet even more so, there is little in this world that compares to pulling over, way off the road, middle of nowhere with the sun going down and just digging it. The pics below are a celebration of that feeling I get when the moment is absolutely perfect, when the sky is on fire and the sun casts a bright campfire glow over everything it touches. When the air is still hot and the shadows are cool and the color saturation has been cranked to max all around; bluer blues, oranges flirting on the periphery of red, reds with a grenadine sweetness to them and the stars creeping in like cats from the cold in the dark spots on the horizon. Here's to summertime and the inimitable Jeep.

The Luxurious Sheraton Sana'a in Yemen.

I read a recent news story about the attempted abduction of military personell in Yemen, where I found the above picture. It's a U.S. marine post on the roof of the Sheraton Sana'a in Yemen's capital. Being a scatterbrain at the best of times, I didn't think about global terrorism, modern jihad vs modern crusade,or anything really relevant to the story. I wondered what it would be like to stay in this place. So I went to Trip Advisor :) At $360.00 per night, it is one of the more expensive hotels I have heard of. Here is a sample review from one traveller; "This place is not worthy of the Sheraton brand. I don't have the space or patience to list all the things that are wrong with this hotel. From the decrepid look that suggests no work has been done since the 70s to the undertrained staff, to the key cards that don't work after a day and the cats in the kitchen, there's just so much to cover. Do not stay here." More pics and reviews here The Sheraton Sana'a is ostensibly militarized in order to protect the U.S. diplomatic mission in Yemen, however there are those that see it more as the headquarters of a small scale occupation, similar to the Green Zone in Baghdad.

"If He Moves Again, Shoot 'im!"

Corsicans celebrating Easter. They fire live rounds and fireworks into the air as part of their celebrations.