Hey There!

I’m going to give you lot a break from reading about STDs. It is important to educate yourself on them, though. Remember that.

This is another bar blog. I don’t have too much to say as of now, but as I get writing, maybe something will flesh out.

Each day is different for me now. Not in the sense of what’s going on during that day, but my mood. I’ve been crazy with mood swings. Particular about who I take my anger out on. Disgusting at times. It hasn’t been pretty.

Other times I’ve been the best person I can be. I’m now training NINE boxers! Nine! Two weeks ago I had one. I’m giving away my time for my biggest passion & let me tell you, it feels fucking good.

I’ve started to spar again. I currently have a bruise under my right eye & a cut above my left eye. I feel alive. Boxing makes me feel alive.

I told you I would flesh some stuff out, probably. Doesn’t look like that was the case. Consider this another “diary” entry. I know you probably didn’t get much from this, but I really do hope you’re doing well. I am grateful you continue to read what I write. I believe this should be used for good, even when I’m talking shit about myself. Use this as inspiration. Use this as an “I’m not alone in this shit” way. Use it somehow. I do this for me, I do. But I wouldn’t mind you getting something out of it, too.

I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.

Unexpected Hilarity

You aren’t going to believe this shit.

First, read this last post. If you don’t, you won’t understand the humor & you won’t clap at the end.

Haven’t read it yet? Shame on you. Enjoy the stock photos below but don’t you dare scroll below those things before you read the last post.

Creative-AP Stock Subscription | Buy Photos | AP Images
read the last post
How to Unstock Your Images: 5 Mistakes to Avoid | atomix
do it

Did you read it? It’s linked here if you haven’t yet. I’m telling you, it adds to this post. Maybe you need another stock photo.

What Is a Stock Split?
look how pleased they are reading my last post

OK, I trust you now. Let’s get into it.

So I was worried I have herpes. Still kinda worried, but some funny shit happened. For the past couple of days before this event, I had felt a slight itch on the tip of my penis. Anyway, I was getting a regular screening the other day for the other STDs, including HIV. I’m sitting in the lobby filling out forms. Then… *ding*

Text message from _____ _____:
Hey, just to let you know I got tested & I have Chlamydia. You may want to get tested.

Text message back from me:
You aren’t going to believe what I’m doing right now.

I mean the timing, the odds, & the hilarity of that moment. Kinda made the whole thing worth it. I’m kidding. Nothing makes pissing flames worth it. Wear a condom, people. Wear a damn condom.

OH. I still don’t know if I have herpes. Guess I have to wait it out, according to the doctor. No tests really give you an accurate result UNLESS you have lesions. Super great. Awesome. Yay.

Fun blog, eh?

I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.

Sorry For The Language, But… Fuck

Let me start this off with…

Wait, hold on.

Hi, everybody!

OK, let me start this off with the fact that I am stupid tired right now. I’m so very stressed at the moment I just scheduled out emails to go out in the morning for me. Highly effective, but I rarely do that. I know I’m overextending myself when I am doing that. WOAH, see? Writing just fleshed that all out for me. Holy shit.

OK, where are we driving?

Oh, you’re probably wondering about the language in the title. Let me explain the best I can. Disclaimer: I know there are certain stigmas around things, some items are overblown, not as bad as we’ve been conditioned into thinking they are, but still, as you read this, understand I’m just fucking scared. I’m not trying to offend anyone. I’m scared.

I slept with a woman the other night. Long story short, the condom broke within 30-45 seconds, most likely. Things got weird at the very start & I cut it off. Once I pulled out, well, things got even more weird.

Fuck, you know what I just realized? My Pops reads this shit. Welp, if you’re reading this, man, understand I’m a BIT STRESSED FROM THIS RIGHT NOW. Sorry in advance. Well, I’ll try to be aware. I will. See? Writing, man. It’s pretty cool.

OK, we were driving the right way there but we lost our signal for a moment. We’re back, baby. Remember, I’m stupid tired. So, yes, things somehow became more strange & let me tell you, the things that made me stop within a minute were very, very strange. I don’t just stop having sex without a valid reason. I heard things I’ve never heard before. I don’t know if I’ll unhear them.

Anyway, let’s get back to it. This is the paragraph, I promise. I will get to the fucking point. (You should find that funny later.) Cut past some emotional moments, questions, & it turns out she has herpes. Yes, herpes. Just typing that made my heart drop. IF YOU FOUND ANGER READING THAT, PLEASE REFER TO THE KIND DISCLAIMER UP TOP. THANK YOU. I don’t know what it is about it, but the best way I can describe it is I don’t want to add it to my list. One thing to definitely mention: there was no outbreak & there hasn’t been any in quite some time. That gives me slight piece of mind. But OK, the list…

I am:

  • Gluten intolerant – like the real kind
  • Soy intolerant – honestly don’t know if this is real but I feel better without it
  • Lactose intolerant – not going to lie to you folks, I can sacrifice a lot of time & toilet paper if the cheese is good enough
  • Former drug addict – once a drug addict, always a drug addict, am I right, y’all? WHY DID THEY TEACH US THAT?
  • Jailed multiple times as a kid
  • Pulled away from the home to stay in group homes & other places that were… oof, to say the least
  • Depression
  • Anxiety
  • I write blogs about herpes at 1:15 AM

I mean, do I need to keep going? No. You get the point. But now we add a whopper to this list. Whopper Jr., if you’re reading this. We could be adding herpes, folks. Fuck. That’s why I said it in the title. Because, well, fuck. That’s all I can think about it. I’m not even trying to be funny. I can’t be funny with this shit. I can’t get a single straight thought across.

I know my life isn’t over. Again, check the disclaimer. I’m just scared, y’all. I’m hoping I can catch a break. I really hope I do. Knock on wood? (Literally knocked on wood after I typed that… out. Well, I did it again for good measure right now.)

I gave you a list of the bad shit about me. That was rude. Woe is me isn’t allowed in this shit. I have plenty positive to say to myself, to you about myself, & plenty to be grateful for. But sometimes, y’all, it’s OK to feel like the fucking world is closing in on you. The water rising as you reach the ceiling. Breath becoming more & more valuable with the pass of each anxious moment.

Again, I’m stupid tired right now. I don’t even know if we’re talking about herpes anymore.

OK, well, I’m not going to list out of the positive things. I’ve said them to myself. I’m good with that. I hope you are, too. Why don’t you try saying some positive things about yourself? Stop being so negative all the time, god damn. What’s there to be scared about? Herpes?

Maybe.

But we’ll get through it. Together.

I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.

IF YOU CARE: I’m getting tested tomorrow morning for all other STDs, getting tested for herpes after the accurate incubation period. All of these fucking medical bills are getting ridiculous.

SECOND DISCLAIMER OR WHATEVER: I WILL NOT BE EDITING THIS. IF YOU FIND ERRORS, OH WELL. I REFUSE TO EDIT vA BLOG ON HERPES. GOOD DAY.

UPDATE TO THE SECOND DISCLAIMER OR WHATEVER: I DID EDIT. I COULDN’T HELP MYSELF. IF YOU FIND ERRORS, JUST GO AWAY. Fuck, I need to sleep.

Nothing Substantial

The title of this post tells you exactly what you’ll be reading, so don’t worry, you have time to hit the “back” button & get the hell out of here. If you stay, well, thank ya.

I’m here writing to write. I’m pretty indifferent today. Comfortable in my own skin today. It feels great. OH! I woke up at a decent time today. Granted I only got about 3.5 hours of sleep because of it, but it’s a goal I set for myself this week & I fucking did it. Go me, right?

How are you holding up? Are you pushing yourself when you’re feeling down? Are you not giving up? Are you checking in with yourself? We, the mentally ill people, need you around. There’s a chance I run into you at a bar & you have no idea I’m the one writing these blogs & I have no idea you’ve read my blogs. We could have a conversation down the road. A good conversation. One of those conversations we all live for.

I have absolutely no clue who the hell you are, but you’re doing something right in this world. Everyone is. Stick with it. I told you I’m writing to write, I don’t think a single solid thought was fleshed out in this blog.

I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.

Therapy Through Punching

Yesterday most of you (the followers, thank you) read I was in a dark place. Don’t let that past-tense fool you, I’m still there. What’s most important is that I’m still here. Living, breathing, trying to calm down.

Yet what helps me is my passion. My passion for boxing, which I wholeheartedly attribute my breakaway from addiction to. Now that I’m not fighting anymore, I coach, & I coach for free.

20 of the 24 hours of yesterday sucked ass. Yet, the four hours I spent volunteering my time to help build strength, stamina, & most importantly, self confidence, helped me more than it helped the boxers I was training.

I guess Anthony De Mello was right when he said every act, even a charitable one, is selfish. Look what I just said. It helped me. That’s not a bad thing necessarily if your perspective shines in a positive light. If the training didn’t help me, I wouldn’t be there to do it. Those individuals coming to learn wouldn’t have me as their coach. They wouldn’t get to see me perform in my now-natural environment. They wouldn’t be able to build their confidence like I did ten years back with boxing.

I’m here now outside of myself. I’m here for others. I haven’t given up on myself, but I’ve tried almost everything under the sun to break through my depressive disorder. It always comes back, sometimes (most of the time) more fierce than the last time. Yesterday I lashed out on my mother, lashed out on my father, & went to bed at 4 AM. I’m not OK, but I’m doing my damn best.

As my coach always said: Chin down, eyes up. (Keeps ya from getting knocked out.)

I wish you well. Try not to beat the shit out of yourself.

On A Roll

These are halftime thoughts, really. Everton is playing Manchester United in the League Cup. I think I have about seven to eight minutes to finish this post. Oh, score is 0-0 if you’re wondering. United look more likely to score. Edinson Cavani is a baller.

OK, so we need to connect to the title. I mean, really, we spoke about soccer (yes, I’m American, I say soccer). Soccer balls roll, so this post is pretty much complete.

What the fuck is wrong with me sometimes?

No, the reason I’m writing to you today is two-fold:
1. Family member I’m staying with has COVID, therefore I’m on lockdown as well
2. I’m on a fucking roll with blogs, there’s no denying it

Funny thing is I’m not even trying to write more often. It’s just happening. I told myself I wanted to be active on this blog back in August when I started it. I’ve been more than excelling past my own expectations of myself for this $42/yr website. Totally worth every penny.

It’s funny how like … I’d say 85% of the followers are bots. WordPress has some issues there, definitely. I hope some of you out there read this stuff & get something from it. I mean, go back to some August 2020 or September 2020 posts. Fucking tragic. Yeah, some posts now are just as tragic, but let’s not pretend there’s no improvement.

OH, I’m down to my original medication, too. Once a month for therapy instead of the weekly followed by bi-weekly.

Lots of information for you lot, I know. Back to the game! Life rolls on! (I’m so sorry for that.)

I wish you well. Try not to beat yourself up.

Update: You people made me miss one minute & fifty-four seconds of the second half. How dare you.