He's alive!

It's true.  Not happy, but alive and stepping toward to light.
I have moved this blog to a wordpress site.  All new posts will be there.  It would be good to have you there.

The Puddle Monk

Debilitating?

I was told today that my social anxiety is debilitating.  Meaning its holding me back from having a normal life?  Or maybe holding me back from enjoying life?  I never thought of it as being that detrimental to how I live, but it seems that maybe it is.  I always felt it was an offshoot of my germaphobe OCD habits.  Perhaps its something altogether different?  I don't know.  She also told me that it would be easier to overcome if I had nearby friends to hang out with, etc.  Although its hard to make friends when you can't stand being around people.  Catch-22.

I can't go on retreats, join community groups, etc.  I've noticed it getting worse over the last 5 years ... tremendously worse.  Since the divorce really.  My ex sort of forced me into facing some things ... dragging me to parties, neighborhood events, et al. She even had antibacterial lotion in her purse, in case anyone shook my hand.  Dammit ... I need to carry a purse!  LOL  Maybe it would have been best had she blamed these things on why she split from me.  That might have forced me to change.  Who knows?

I could be looking at it wrong, of course.  All of my sociological detriments seems to stem from human contact.  Digging through compost/manure with my bare hands?  No problem.  Shaking someone's hand?  Problem.  Turning a foal inside a mare's womb with its subsequent fecal and blood matter?  No problem.  Eating off restaurant forks, knowing someone just an hour before may have eaten off it?  Problem.

There's something to be said for at least recognizing these problems.  That's supposed to be the first step in a remedy.  Not sure.  There are worse problems to be had other than utter isolated loneliness, I suppose.

At the rate I'm going, I might as well be locked up in a monastery hermitage ... with the key lost to the ages. 

Meat Dilemma ...

My father's a hunter.  Has been his entire life.  I grew up around but have never hunted at all myself.  I was, however, expected to help clean and butcher his kills.  The more I protested, the worse the chore would be that he handed down.  Hell, once he had me cut off the heads of a few dozen dead squirrels and peel the pelts from their flesh.  It was horrifying and haunts me 3 decades later.  I was a meat eater then, so I couldn't complain too much on ethical grounds I suppose.  I'm a pescatarian now and still fly fish (catch and release only).

But my good ol' dad decided my lifestyle was still not what he wanted for me.  He went out and shot two deer and is having them butchered for my freezer (which are full of veggies at the moment).  I'm heartbroken at this.  I know its not tainting my karma, but I can't help but feeling I need to make up for it.  I'm donating the majority of the venison to a local food bank.  The remainder will go to my ex and a friend of mine.  I can't just throw it away.  The deer gave their lives and I don't want them wasted.

I'm just heartbroken.  On multiple fronts.