Friday, June 29th, 2001 2554 Belle Cote Ave. St. Louis Dear God, Today has been a good day. This is the 5th day after I have stopped taking psychically active medication -- since I ran out on Sunday. This week has been interesting, at least in that I have had some side-effects of not taking it. But what's more interesting are the dreams I have been having at night time. They have been good dreams, very creative, very interesting, and rather fun dreams, as far as I can recall. Last night, I recall a dream in which at least a part of it, I was staying in a room in a New York hotel which was in a lobby. Restaurant tables were there in that room, and over on the left was the check-in counter. And I slept in a bed there in that lobby. Think it was one or two stories up, and across the street was a zoo/park that I could see from my/our window. Interesting people would eat in the restaurant, and we would have fascinating conversations. I felt privileged, because I could have my dinner in bed next to these other guests who would eat at the tables. It seems that in one instance, a guest wanted to share that bed with me. I politely, but firmly, declined. At one point in the dream, there was something of a dramatic situation play- ing itself out in the tables/booths nearby. Nothing hugely dramatic, but some difficulty in getting along by a man and woman who were very close -- perhaps husband and wife. He seemed jealous that she wanted to talk with other people, I think, and was quite put out and grumpy about it. She was careful, but enjoyed talking with other people (sometimes men), and seemed able to deal with his grumpiness. This lady, I think, was Bernadette Peters, the famous Broadway and Hollywood actress. She seemed to be a friend of mine, and we enjoyed talking and laughing, while I joined them at their table, or we joined one another at some nearby easy chairs. Am not sure she really knew me -- but she seemed a delightful person, very personable, with a great capacity for appreciating others whether she knew them well or not. With a much greater capacity for enjoying others' company than her close male friend, it seemed. It came to be that I travelled with her to another town in New York. It was winter there, and she very much wanted to go to this town, in a valley. This town had a unique property: Even though it was winter everywhere else in New York, it was always warm in this town and its valley. Its secret seemed to be that it always fogged up in the evenings, and (I think) stayed foggy for some of the next day. So very cold weather could be raging in the up- lands in the entire surrounding countryside -- but here it would be warm and balmy year-round. She and I came to the town, with someone else. (This someone else was not the sour grump who was with her in the hotel.) We knew that a couple of children would be coming into the town on a train. I think they were her children. She couldn't see them or hadn't been able to see or be with them very well because of the possessive man she hung around with -- something he had done or was, I think. Or something the government had done. At any rate, we were going to try to get to these kids while they were on the train, and at least visit them or something. There might have even been a train hijacking planned. I think whatever plan we had worked, without major negative effect. There was some reunion, perhaps temporary. Temporary, because the dream seemed quickly to go to our trying to find some kind of permanent lodgings there in that town. Turned out there was a very large government-run place where we were going to try to stay, perhaps live awhile in, in its third story. The building only had two stories -- but one of the companions with us knew a way we could live in a third-story place in the buildings that was a utility area, nearby where some engineers worked monitoring utility equipment. There was a room of to the side that wasn't used for anything that was spacious and which we could come to any time. One of the engineers knew he could swing it for us. That way we could stay in this warm town. ------- It's now about 8:15pm on Friday evening, June 29th. Today, I slept in as I usually have been, sleeping most of the morning away (because I stayed up almost all night again on this computer). I think I slept until 1pm or so, which gave me enough sleep, since I didn't go to bed until around 5:30am. It was between 5:30am and 1pm today that I had that amazing dream, mentioned above. This evening, I went out to dinner at Serra's, and had a nice pasta dish, some iced tea, and some ice cream for dessert. Then went out to the St. Stanislaus nature preserve to go walk, but the thunderstorms seemed to want to rumble in the distance. I think maybe it was good that they did so in the distance, as I was intent on walking. But as I sat there in my car, listening to "All Things Considered," another truck pulled up and a man sat there in that truck, seemingly spending a lot of time and energy staring at me. I felt so very uncomfortable with that, that even as the distant thunderstorms seemed to be breaking up, perhaps allowing me to walk there with no fear of harm from lightening, it did not allow me to get out of my car to walk there with no fear of molestation or harm from that man who seemed so strange, just sitting there staring and to me feeing to be up to no good. That is sad. I think this is the 2nd day in a row I have come there to find myself there in the parking lot with someone there who felt to be up to no good, and afraid to leave my vehicle to walk on the trails because of that man. But I was still intent on doing some walking, as I love to walk in nature, and have permitted myself to do that so seldom since moving to St. Louis. I recalled seeing a sign for a nature trail at a little park in Bridgeton, off of Fee Fee road north of I-70 and south of Natural Bridge. So I started the car and drove off to there from St. Stanislaus. When I got to that park, I didn't turn in. I don't know why. But I didn't, just kept driving along Fee Fee. Got to Long Road, took a left, made a wide cirle that involved taking Long Rd. around behind King Henry VIII Hotel where I used to work, back to Natural Bridge, and back around to Fee Fee. Came to the park again, and this time, I pulled in. Walking the trails was really a joy. And there may have been some small prayer answered: I was wishing in a way that I might have a trusting companion to enjoy the walk with me at St. Stanislaus, helping me to feel safer to walk there when not doing so alone, but lamenting that most of friends I currently have just don't feel right to me accompanying me there. Angelo, though able and active, is much older, and can be overbearing and overwhelming as a personality to reckon with -- and may not be able or wil- ling to walk far, as I would like to. Lucrecia, though willing to walk, bless her heart, had a stroke many years ago. Though she can walk, and does well, she goes slowly, and may not be able or willing to take on a longer trek of .5-1.5 miles. Phyllis -- I just can't think I would like to walk with her. Sweetly disposed as she is, she's an older lady who has very conservative (almost oppressive) views on some things, and it would be hard to enjoy her company walking if I were wanting to also walk and talk from the heart. Walking alone, of course, is nice: I can walk with God there. I've walked alone so so much of my life, though, that sometimes human companionship is nice. And maybe safer. Who else do I have as a friend? Others have their own lives, filled with other people or other responsibilities... As I was saying, though: A prayer answered? I encountered a very sweetly- disposed young lady on the trail who was riding them with a trail bike. Said hello a couple of times - once as we passed on the trails, another time as she was out of the trails but spied me on my way out of them, and then a third time, as she got back to the parking lot and we spoke a minute or two. She is probably younger than I am, in better shape than I, and was able and willing to be friendly, talking about being eaten up by mos- quitos ("I forgot to put on insect repellent"), and about being on the trails ("I wasn't expecting them to be so muddy"). She seemed to want to talk some, and my shyness of course kicked in and let me talk with her a short time, and I then had to say goodbye and left before she did. But I felt some- what drawn to her in a way I have not felt drawn to anybody in a long, long time. I know I am lonely. It was nice to feel appreciated by a stranger, a nice young(er) lady, to enjoy an inconsequential chit-chat, a smile, a sense of community with someone who also was seeking exercise on a beautiful wooded trail. Who knows if I shall ever meet her again? I may go there again next Friday evening just to see if she may show up again so we can say hi again. But it really felt good -- like God sent a friend to sort of accom- pany me on a walk in a little wooded area, who would not be afraid of me and who I would not be afraid of. A sweetly-disposed, seemingly gentle person as well.... I thank you, God. This is the day after Mom and Dad's 51st anniversary of their marriage. I called them last night and talked to Mom for a little while, to wish them a happy anniversary. They went out last night, to Governor Stumpy's (a restaurant/grill/bar that now occupies the old Leonards that we used to go to religiously when I was a kid living in Kansas City). Mom said that she had a screwdriver there. I found that interesting. (I guess something in me wanted to think Mom didn't even know what a screwdriver is. I had a screwdriver only once in my life that I can recall -- and that was in New York when I was there with a class in college, and was old enough to order a drink -- the "Getting to Know the Arts in New York City" class I was part of in January, 1980.) Gave friend Angelo a call last night, feeling really lonely. He happened to be out helping a friend and staying at the friend's house last night. So I didn't hear from him until this morning -- when he called and left a message on my phone. Called him back this afternoon, oh, around 2:45 - 3:15pm. We had a nice long talk. He was surprised how wonderfully chipper I sounded today. I told him it is probably in part caused by the fact I am not taking this psychoactive medication that Dr. Krojanker has had me on. I have spend so much time having this medicaiton disconnect me from my emotions and from being able to communicate with my deeper self as to what my feelings and thoughts really are. I really think that the Paxil, taken for years up until January of 2000, and followed by the Effexor from then on, has had the property of keeping me from feeling my feelings, from connecting with the soul of myself that allows my feelings to inform my thoughts and my thoughts to inform my feelings. These medications may help me in reup- taking my serotonin, perhaps allowing these neurotransmitters to work more efficiently -- but I really deeply seriously think and feel that they also have the effect of making them work far more poorly -- because they seem to block messages about feelings from helping to inform the rest of me what they are. So with these medications, my feelings get tamped down, hidden, insulated and isolated from being able to be effective or communicated to the rest of my brain. Now this may work to create an apparently more balanced individual personality, particularly when the feelings it is tamping down and hiding from the self are those of self-pity, sorrow, sadness, or the anger-turned-inwards which, when impotently raging, is depression. But to me, it is much like a permanent band-aid. It *appears* to heal the *symptoms* of depression or strong feelings that get in the way of normal life, because it gives no outlet for those feelings to be heard by the rest of the person, let alone expressed or even known about. But, like a permanent band-aid on a broken bone, it never allows the bone to properly heal -- or never allows the *cause* of the feeling of hurt, depression, sorrow, anger-turned-inwards, to be found out and utilized in the healing. So no *real* healing occurs. So, while medicated on this stuff for many *years*, I never really can come to a realization of myself, and of who I am inside my shell and inside the world I live in. And I remain confused, medicated, and able to cope on a minimal level with those things that life throws at me, but without the tools to really excel in the sensitive accurate perception and response to life's realities. If I cannot feel my feelings, then I cannot very well be expected to feel with others' feelings, of be able to utilize a gift of empathy to others. If I cannot recognize and sensitively respond to my own feelings about things, I definitely cannot recognize and respond to feelings within other people. So let those Serotonin globules *not* be reuptaken, be swimming around in there, and confuse and thwart my own brain's ability to recognize and deal with the real emotions that I have. Or let them naturally be reuptaken... so my brain can have a chance to let the messages of feelings flow, be felt, be thought about ... and enable the absolute *joy* of being able to be in touch with one's-self and one's world about them. The problem may not be that the feelings need to be neutralized to make the life liveable. It may be that I need to be taught better methods of thought- fully *dealing* with the feelings that life gives me, to not let them over- whelm me and cause me to shut down because the feelings are too intense. Selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors seem to mute my feelings. If the feelings I have are so overwhelming that they absolutely control my life with no thought or logic working with them, then perhaps SSRI is helpful. But if my feelings are so muted for so long, that I don't really even know what they are anymore ... then I think SSRI's do more damage than good. There is a balance between thought and feeling, logic and emotion, that must take place for a person to be mentally healthy, or at least considered so within certain norms of the mental health profession. But maybe the time has come (at least for me) to find ways of achieving that balance: -- less from imposed medication that controls my capability to feel feelings at all; -- and more from self-imposed discipline that can recognize, understand, love, and accept the feelings as they happen, but work from an intelli- gence of lovingly utilizing the feelings as information to be incorpor- ated in the making of decisions, rather than as gut feelings to drive decisions, bereft of logic. Does any of this make sense?? God, please help me know. Please help me know. Please help me come in to my own, to know self, to be okay with self, to not fear or hate or loathe self, and to be able in loving You and self, to serve the needs that good life has, a good life of not completely centering on self, but being expanded to let others in also. Please don't let me die a lonely, thoughtless, unfeeling man. Thank you, God. You are Gold. Love, David