Fifth Street Fountain(Photo) 

Bill runs to the 44, after visiting the post office to buy a stamp and mail the Quik letter.  The start of the week, Monday 27 July 2009.  Bill may have a new place in which to live, this week, thanks to the benificence of North West Pilot Project.  A fourth floor studio on 12th and Clay.  He'll keep it, if the bank doesn't take most of the August Social Security check.  Because of the drug/loan problem, he's in the red at the bank, but the check should be going to Integrity Plus, now.  Bill plans to stay in Portland another year.  Fix his finances, if given a chance, and see Alaska.  The Haldol is doing an excellent job keeping Bill calm and focused.  His mind was helter skelter.

His new shoes are breaking in and he's got his hat on, today, will be a scorcher.  One hundred degree, plus heat.  He's headed to the Senior Center in Multnomah Villiage.  Then JOIN for mail and Integrity Plus to introduce himself.  If the bank takes it's money, it's back to square one for Bill.  Meanwhile Bill's past connections live their own lives, oblivious to Bill.  Bill is on his own, sink or swim.  Thanks be to the civil and government agencies, who see Bill through his life.

The city employees with their bright yellow, red striped vests are on duty at Sunset Bl and Capital Hwy marking with paint the trails of underground utilities.  Breakfast at the Mission was eggs, oatmeal, bran muffin and coffee.

Posted by btlsp at 11:12 AM EDT

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 Tallest building in Portland(Photo)

Hi, Sue.  May be getting a room, tomorrow at 12th and Clay, Downtown.  Last room at the Stewart on Broadway and Burnside in February.  This room is a fourth floor studio, very nice.  View is the Grace Bible Church and steeple across Clay to the North.  2 windows!  Whoopy!  Laundry is ten steps from door one way, elevator, 10 steps the other way, mailboxes in the lobby.  NW Pilot Project(helps 55+ with housing), helped get the room.  Guess I was getting tired of the tree.  Not really.  Fall is around the corner.  Don't want to leave for warmer climes, yet.  Maybe do another year in Portland, then Alaska, come May, 2010.

Bill sits in the 12th and Glisan Starbucks with a cup of coffee, along the window facing Glisan.  He watches the one-way traffic go West.  Music decends from the speakers high on the 14-foot walls.  50's music.  Bill plans to call Cathy and ask for a Payee to manage his money.  Something he's been poor at the last 4 weeks.  Bill thought all day, yesterday he'd like to run into Ananda at Magic Garden, and he did, at last, at 9:45PM.  He watched her dance 2 sets and left.  He couldn't miss the last train home to his pillar.  The truck and trailer is still parked in his forest, night 3.

"Are you from Portland?", the minister asks Bill.  They are the only passengers on the 19.  He talks minister-speak to the driver and briefly notices Bill, as Bill walks up to ask the driver, if there is a stop at Yamhill, he's headed to breakfast at Carls.

Bill sits in Carls Junior eating a steak and eggs burrito.  25 July 2009.  Saturday.  It's good.  It may be all Bill eats today.  St Fransis closed.  He may eat at Share House in Vancouver at 3:30.  He's going to pay Cash 'n' Go $100 from his IRS check.  He bought a pair of shoes and visited the prettiest girl he's ever seen at Magic Garden.  He may be living 3 floors above Blockbuster Video on 12th and Clay, come, next week.  Sia is surprised and exstatic Bill gets approved at Hamilton West Apartments.  He's maintaqined a good rent record, except for the Sinclair Street apartment, which they may have overlooked.

So far, Pilot Project's been good to Bill.  And JOIN, showers, mailbox, locker, understanding.  Portland's been good with meals and inexpencive transportation.  Bill owes a lot of money from the loans fiasco.  The drug Abilify derailed the payment schedule by putting him to sleep.  He would have been fine.

He doesn't know whether to go to a Kingdom Hall or a church, tomorrow.  He cannot perform among Jehovah's Witnesses and Faith Center, only asks he join the men's group, if that.  But it's "false religion, Babylon the Great", by the JW estimation and interpretation of Scripture.  "You're attracted to the social aspect and the structure.", Cathy evaluates Bill's responce to, "What do you get out of going to the Kingdom Hall?"

Posted by btlsp at 12:37 PM EDT

Updated: Monday, 27 July 2009 1:21 PM EDT

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St Johns Bridge(Photo) 

"Bill, do you have any furniture?", asks Sia.  "I have nothing.", Bill replies.  "We'll get you a bed, we don't want you sleeping on the floor."

Bill had a room in Reno at Lake Mill Lodge on the Fourth Floor.  The large patio door looked West to the Sierra.  Now Bill is prepaing to move into Room 404 at the Hamilton Apartments, Portland, at 12th and Clay.  Thw two windows look North at the Grace Bible Church and it's steeple.

Hi, Sue.  Where do they meet in Salem?  I am in a motel room a couple weeks, getting a room, shortly.  Don't know, if I want to.  Started an old med, 2 days ago, it's giving me peace of mind.  Doctors put me on it, back, when I was 22 and had my first experience with mental illness.  The newer meds give me trouble.  Have to low dose this one, because it has bad side-effects.  I was in Camarillo State Hospital in California a couple weeks, until they could stabilize me.  I believe that's where the Beatles song Strawberry Fields Forever comes from, the fields make it difficult for patients to escape.
 
My Mother is doing a bit better, she's getting cataract surgery soon, maybe she will be able to read again.  She's always studying the WT.  She's lonely, though, no one she knows near her, beside my Brother, who gets busy with things.  He wants me to call her more often, but I have to repeat things 3 times, before Mom gets it.

Posted by btlsp at 12:09 AM EDT

Updated: Saturday, 25 July 2009 10:12 AM EDT

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Parking lot in back at 3rd and Burnside(Photo) 

"Have a good day.", the girl at the bus stop says.  Bill says, "You, too."  She's waiting for the 20, "I, just saw the 19 go by."  She twists a lock of her hair between 2 fingers of her left hand.  The bus pulls up, Bill boards.  It's Portland, 23 July 2009.  Everybody's out.  Bill misses breakfast at the Mission, he's sleepy and 6:30 passes by and he's still in bed in his motel room.  He heads for the Senior Center and coffee and donuts.  Quik called this morning, they want their money.

The Alaska journey is off, this year.  Bill hopes he's fit and well, enough, next year to do it.  It will take several months to pay his loans.  Or he'd consider New Mexico, this winter.  It appears he'll be in Portland.  He's stable on meds, last hospitalization in Quincy, last year, only ER.  He's writing to Sue, again.  The JWMatch girl in Washington.  There is a thread started by a new-comer at MeetUp, re which translation of the Bible is best.  Bill fears this settled feeling, he will regret it.  Time passes, too quickly.

 Charlie Median and more so, Jerry Barnett resented my being more moral, than they and smarter in school.  They were both 2 years my senior and I hung around them, anyway.  They were Jehovah's Witnesses.  I was 12.  Jerry used to physcally abuse Bill.  He was getting his first semen ejaculations, when Barry McDonald, the bookstudy conductor started hounding him to keep up with the ministry on weekends.  We moved and Bill abruptly loses his connection in the Lennox community.

The Hawthorne and Yukon Intermediate school experience was different, less harassment, they didn't know me, I wasn't established.  I took to liking and spending time with a girl in homeroom, Lorrie Hendrix.  It was the year Kennidy was killed.  I continued and finished Seventh Grade in Rialto at the junior high school.  I was isolated and disoriented then and stopped meeting attendance.  We returned to Hawthorne and Lennox and Bill's Father leaves.  We moved to Westminster for a year and back to the Rialto area, Colton.  While in Redlands, Bill returns to meetings.

Posted by btlsp at 11:04 AM EDT

Updated: Thursday, 23 July 2009 10:45 PM EDT

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Bill's in Weaverville(Photo)

I am aware of a spiritual component in my mind. When my most successful therapist, first she gained my confidence, then she forced the two-way corridor open, then she granted me release from tyranny. She said I didn't have to keep banging my head on the wall by attending meetings and feeling guilty, because I couldn't do service. But I forgot. I degenerated back to the tyranny. She said, the last session, I would recall all she taught me. I do, but it isn't like her telling me to my face. Like God did to Moses. Maybe I should confront my tyrant, the group of men, who insist on allegiance and participation, despite handicaps and swear at them an hour. Nothing would come of it, they may even call for the men in white suits.

Posted by btlsp at 11:27 AM EDT

Updated: Saturday, 18 July 2009 12:31 PM EDT

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Bill is on the list at the Hamilton.(Photo) 

Bill was, not much better off, last year.  He had his teeth.  It is 17 July 2009.  Last year he was in Portland.  He had his truck and a suspended license.  He was sleeping in Paul's attic.  The new Doctor, Jessica Cuzzens started him on Prozac.  It helped him lose his inhibitions and Bill entered the strip club circuit.  And more.  Paul and Bill disagreed and split.  Bill found a room downtown.  He stayed 5 months.  His Mother got very ill, requiring round-the-clock care.  His Brother, Mike arrainged help and paid for it.  Bill gave up his room and visited his Mom.  He stayed 2 months.  He was judged there as disobedient to the Faith he aquired from his Mother.  And made to feel guilty.

Bill thought of going to Alaska and Albuquerque.  He also considered staying in Victorville, where and until he could get his tooth fixed at the best cost.  He reurned to Portland.  He could have rented, another room, but didn't know what to do.  He slept outdoors April, May, June.  He left his sleeping bag somewhere and it was taken.  He left his jacket on the MAX and it was taken.  Today he is at Pilot Project for a 10:30 appointment with Sia.  They put him up in a motel room a week.  Their complaints are Bill makes too much on SSD and he has debt.

Bill has no buds, a girl or a job.  His strip club visits are curtailed for lack of funds.  Some of the strippers Bill knows are very friendly with him.  Bill stopped going to Kingdom Halls and churches.  He is on Prozac and Lamictal.  At the Kingdom Hall he is pressured to be a JW.  At church he is pressured to believe in Heaven and Hell.  The pressure to be a JW is unmitigating.  Bill needs a friend or a group to express himself.

Bill is learning he may have Gender Dysphoria.

Posted by btlsp at 2:21 PM EDT

Updated: Friday, 17 July 2009 7:28 PM EDT

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Regina Spektor(Photo)

Went to see my Social Worker, today, Cathy.  We talk about guilt.  How some groups instill, too much of it.  Cathy suggests I am attracted to the social aspect and the structure of the group.  Too much guilt, though.  About doing and, not doing things.  She insists, as an adult I may follow my own path.  Certain ones, here have told me the same.

Cathy asks me what, else she could do to help me.  I say the meds are working and I have a room for a week.  She thanks me for coming.  She says to be, more kind to myself.  Cathy suggests I am unsure I want to stay in Portland.  It was a productive, positive 30 minutes.

She gives me a list of affirmations, one: "My thoughts do not control my life, I do."

Posted by btlsp at 5:45 PM EDT

Updated: Friday, 17 July 2009 7:48 PM EDT

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Bill should win(Photo) 

Why?  Bill has no definition.  He wishes to be invisible.  Life is a struggle.  He's a JW.  Or is he?  What is he?  Does it matter?  Can he be, just Bill?  Will they permit it?  Who is they?  Bill is in possession of a copy of his Certificate of Live Birth.  He has a Social Security Number.  He is not on the FBI's 10 most wanted list.  Is this Bill?  To whom does it matter.

"Bill, right?", says the stripper, Mya, as she takes his money.  Bill is a fraud, a wastrel and a baffoon.  He is afraid of emotion, so he has none.  BOO!  Bill is outside of Society.  A freak.  He's been offered a seat at the table, but he doesn't play.  He asks Mya to say it, again.  "Thank you guys."  Because it sounds cool.

Bill is sometimes, on the rare occassion, 10 feet tall, but mostly 2 inches.  He sees his therapist a week, before the end of the month and has to wait a week to book another appointment.  And she's on loan from Downtown, works in the St Johns clinic, Mondays and Fridays.  All Bill knows for certain is he has two legs to carry him and how to stop and go.

When Bill dies, he will not have reason to miss life, beacuse despite the joys, they were stolen.  If Bill is not a man, what is he?  What is Bill?  What is anyone?

Posted by btlsp at 5:34 PM EDT

Updated: Sunday, 2 August 2009 1:50 PM EDT

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Devil's Point in the rain(Photo)

The fight or flight principle.  In school and at work Bill recalls taking the flight approach over the issue of being a JW and dealing with the mountain of inconsistencies, between the JW way and the accepted notions or norms.  It was a matter of act stupid and fret, lest I be discovered or state my objections and receive the sting of discrimination.  The law requires a minor to attend school.  And an adult must participate in the work world to live.  Being a JW is work, defending your faith in school and at work, in the ministry and in the congregation.  And regimentation.  So Bill took up masturbation, as a tonic, or used it conveniently, as one.  It became the ultimate flight mechanism.  his Father was little help, because he was detached and the "Truth" was anathema to his Father's life and goals. He realized his sons would be faithful to their Mother and her ways.  It would be easier to leave them behind.  "Dad was a flake.", just today, Bill's Brother, Mike.

In Portland, on Prozac and, then Lamictal and 20 strip clubs within reach, Bill indulges.  He was forced to sell his truck, adding to the tension and his Mother is near death, so he leaves to see her.  He asks to room with his one son.  his son tells him he never really liked him and he smells and doesn't go to meetings.  Bill returns to Portland but doesn't know what to do or where to go.  So he doesn't get a room, again.  He spends some of the money on the girls.  He gets to "know" some of them "personally" and it is satisfying.  instead of meeting attendance, where you are criticized, if you fail the flock's and overseers' expectations.  mental illness is not understood there.  You try a couple churches, but they are just more god and religion.  Stigma and humiliation being a JW.

Posted by btlsp at 5:40 PM EDT

Updated: Saturday, 18 July 2009 8:29 AM EDT

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Talia(Photo) 

New low. I smell, so I was denied a bus ride today. Because I cannot shake the JW attachment. I am going to get a room, though. Where the mentally ill are put up. An old hotel in Chinatown. It's not far from Magic Gardens :) . Cathy, the social worker is preparing the papers, I may have to sign something. Just, until I can get back on my feet. When is that? I like it at the Faith Center, but I'm not going to Heaven or Hell and they all believe that. So I won't fit in, a square peg in a round hole. If for some reason I have to stay at my tree, I need mosquito repellant.

The meds are keeping me off tall buildings. I'm losing my bank account. I have a back up at BofA. Family is ignoring me. I visited Sex Addicts Anonymous, today. Big crowd. It's not for me. They believe in a higher power and the 12 steps and they are all in unison. Oh, and preach abstinence and say it's a disease.

"Last Crusade"(He chose poorly.") at the Square at dusk tomorrow. I'd like to call Jaimie, she's a stripper, who said she'd see a movie and have dinner, and have sex, afterward, for a gratuity. We hit it off.

I got a lot, a lot a words wrong, this time. Damn me. Yeppers.

Posted by btlsp at 10:57 PM EDT

Updated: Saturday, 18 July 2009 8:48 AM EDT

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