Carroll's Journal 38 (Unwell)

Now there is suspicion that I may have had my hand in the San Diego fireworks debacle. What? I have nothing against San Diego. No, really. Although, when you ask the universe for a favor, you know, sometimes it grants you one. Be careful, because the debt can often be too high a price to pay. Anyhow, sorry about that San Diego, a higher purpose of precaution had to be served.

Just wrapped up my football fantasy drafts. I am a little burnt out. I had nine drafts in four days. I am also going to go and admit myself into the hospital for a week. A mental health facility. I haven’t been myself lately. Dreams, visions, and after deciding to stop writing poetry and songs, my mind is being flooded with them and it is hurting me.

I get like this from time to time. This anger and frustration takes hold and I can almost feel my skin turning green and growing ten times my normal size. “Hulk mad!” And I need a little down time to cool my mental jets. The only time I can seem to get that down time is when I go and admit myself into the clinic. That and the fact that my counselor finds my “condition” fascinating. (Or maybe my thoughts)

Perhaps she is amused by all of my problem solving formulas to all the worlds problems. I think she wants to do a book on me. Ever since she discovered what I was exposed to “that night” - she appears drawn to me and my unusual position on life. She claims that talking with me for a couple hours a month is better than watching the National Geographic channel.

Where in the world is Carmen San Diego?

There has also been some silent tension between myself and local authorities. You know, the “eyeballing” thingy. Yeah, that kind of tension. I keep getting this feeling that something is about to go down. Something horrible. They’ve been watching me, you know? Parking outside in the parking lot, making their presence known. And me, keeping my “little buddy” close at hand in the event I need to defend or protect myself against any aggression.

It’s hard to describe living with a bi-polar condition. Mine was caused by the accident. Ever since then, I have been living in a dark and isolated world with only a few windows of light opening up sporadically. And … Oh, my God, I am what they call “damaged goods”. Eh, at least that’s something, right?

After I am released, I think I am going to take a week and go somewhere again. No, not California, but not a bad idea, maybe Florida. Maybe I will go and visit David. Or better yet, maybe I will fly to the Virgin Islands. I haven’t been there for a while. The last time I went I …. never mind what I did. LOL

But seriously, my radar is working overtime right now. I find that strange. Mostly because, it’s been so quiet until about a year ago. Then slowly, month by month, the activity has been increasing. I find it very odd.

I hope this is just another phase.

I have also been worried about my friend, Falls. She and her family had to evacuate their home recently due to wildfires and I haven’t heard from her to know she is okay. I don’t know what is going on. So I worry myself sick. And then I have another friend who will be going away soon on a trip out of country and I worry about that too. Then I worry about my mothers health, and it’s like one thing after another.

I worry too much sometimes.

The next few months are going to be rough for other reasons too. Reasons that I prefer not to share at the moment. It’s just that every now and then, memories get in the way of my progress. I wish I had a machine that I could zap my brain and they would just go away. Why can’t someone finally invent a product that can erase memories? You could call it, “Memories Be-Gone!” and you could like, point a ray gun to your head and pull the trigger and a few minutes later you’re like, “What? What was I thinking? I forget.” And life would return to simplicity once again.

I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell. I know, right now, you can’t tell. But stick around and maybe then you’ll see, a different side of me. I’m not crazy, I just a little impaired. I know, right now, you don’t care. But soon enough you’re gonna think of me, and how I used to be.

I know that some of you might actually look up to me and stuff. I just want you to know that we all have problems. The hardest thing to do is self-recognize this, but even harder to take that step to try and fix it. Don’t be afraid to be broken. We are all broken to some degree. More importantly, don’t be afraid to try and put yourself back together. There is nothing wrong in being a little “unwell”.