Nevermind the Title

Thought I’d write a quick post before I head off into the bowels of my bedroom and tidy up—I’m a borderline hoarder, though I’m sure I mentioned this in the past. Wish I could say some traumatic event caused my need to “collect” stuff, but no. Since I can remember I just kept things even when I had no use for them. Case in point: tucked away in my closet was a box of knick-knacks from my relationship with Jessica—this included a Bart Simpson candy cane that melted with the head and coated almost everything inside. I also found a high school binder—that’s correct, high school—with homework I failed to turn in (no big surprise there).

I finally manage to apply for healthcare—having given up on the website months ago—via telephone. Blue Cross Blue Shield for my medical stuff and Humana for my dental. I’ll only be paying less than a $100 for both. Now, what struck me as important for the health insurance was the coverage in mental behavioral issues. Finally conceding that my problems are more than I can handle myself, I want to seek help. And, for the first time, I am willing to throw a pill at it in hopes to correct the imbalance inside.

Hoping that I’d garner some support, the two people I mentioned this to replied in this way, “I like you just fine [the way you are],” and, “I think it’s all in your head. You’re just fine.” Leaving me wondering why people are so against me getting help for something that clearly exists.

And, lastly, inspired to write poetry again (it took a lot out of me to write one poem for the Love & Chocolate reading), I picked up two books in the craft and reading and understanding creative medium: A Poetry Handbook by Mary Oliver and Mary Kinzie’s A Poet’s Guide to Poetry, 2nd Edition. Along with this quasi new venture, I have to darker projects in the horizons. A 90-Day Jane-esque blogging project (either on WordPress or Tumblr as I’ve pretty much divorced myself from Blogger) and a story based on actual, recent events in my so-called love life.