Burnt Pancakes and Anchovies

It's been a while between blog entries and for that I am extremely penitent. A lot has been going on lately, what with my new job and my obsession with comics and any other printed matter. Around the time of my last post, I was rewarded with a new job making chocolate bars whose main ingredient is hemp seed. Sounds like it should taste like crap, but it is quite delicious.

So three days a week I now have a job where I don't have to deal with the public. For which, as anybody who knows me and my love for the public, means I generally function better doing my work and I don't get stressed out as much before hand. In other words this job is a godsend and I hope I don't lose it anytime soon.

I originally didn't know what I was going to talk about today, but seem to have let my fingers do the talking. Dealing with the public has never been that easy for me. Job interviews are a bitch and puttin out the initiative for dating and making new friends is almost impossible, especially when it comes time to tell them I have a major mental illness. Even though I look at it as a blessing, not every person looks at it that way and you never know how the other person is going to react. I just remember that I see, hear, know, think and even smell things that these other people will never experience.

When I was younger, about six years old, every time I would exit my bedroom I would see a battle-axe start to fall out of the corner of my eye. But every time I would try to see it dead on, it would disappear. Even then I couldn't even tell my parents for fear of persecution. Yes, even a six year-old understands this concept.

So I'm hoping this blog reaches more than just the mentally ill. I hope it can reach friends, family and co-workers of anybody out there, with or without illness. Not just in my circle. I hope these children that are suffering now are blessed with loving, understanding families and above all else a sense of humor to allow them to succeed and rise above the bigotry.

Why is a sense of humor importan? Having a sense of humor allowed me to look back on my mistakes and laugh at them. If you want to ruin your life simply look back on your past and brood over your mistakes. I'll give you two weeks before you start drinking yourself stupid. Regret is an inedible dish, like burnt pancakes served with anchovies.

Regret and learning from your mistakes are two different things. Learning is positive while regret is highly negative. Having schizophrenia has given me the time to realize this. Even though I am on medication I have still found myself at the bottom of a bottle or at the end of twelve-pack. Regret led me there and acceptance/learning have pulled me out.

I beg anybody out there having a mental illness and the werewithal, to not have to work, to explore your emotions. This may sound weird, but allow yourself to hit rock-bottom. You'll find out who your friends are, and they don't answer to the name Jim Beam or Johnny Walker (unless of course that's their real name; ouch!). You'll know who they are when you call and they come to your aid.

This is one reason I am glad my illness hit me when I was young. I was given time to figure these things out, and I thank my parents for giving me the space, and time, to do so.

Was I a bastard when I chose to drink heavily? You better bloody believe it. I alienated friends and almost alienated my father, but when it came down to it, and I got myself under control most of those friends came back, and I hope they continue to. But again, in order for my advice to work, mistakes have to be made first-hand. So make mistakes, but own up to them afterwards. Learn to laugh at these mistakes and (can't stress this enough) own up to them; and, if you need to, apologize for them. You'll love yourself, your illness, and your friends/family so much more.

Mental illness comes with great responsibility. (Thanks Spider-man! :) )