Carpe Diem Scroto The Book blog

So, with only one week until the fundraiser Tea Party, wouldn't you know it, that of course I would start having dental troubles. And to top it off, I have an appointment this coming Tuesday, which means that should the tooth have to be pulled and knowing how my mouth loves to spawn infections, I am probably going to be in absolute misery trying to put on a brave (perhaps swollen) face and interact with the crowd of people that may show up in 10's of 20's lol. 

And because the PNW is well the PNW, it has a 40% chance of raining on May 4th, because why not right?

All the final pieces are getting set up and I have butterfly's the size of Mothra, but I have to keep listening to that inner voice that is spurring me on telling me that everything is going to be ok. Although I feel as if the Sword of Damocles is hanging over my head at the moment. I have to keep faith that everything is going to work out and that things are going to go as planned and expect the worst and hope for the best....that is how that goes right?

How many brushes have you had in your lifetime? Probably not something that you've ever really thought about. This is a story about my brush. It's nothing fancy. Nothing special. In fact, it was a dollar store purchase. Most people would have just replaced it once it became old and broken, not try to fix it or repair it. Especially if the brush was only a dollar. 

This brush became a symbol of hope and trying to me. Somedays all I could do was get up, look in the mirror, fight through the tears, and the voices telling me that I would be better off dead, then to continue to be a burden to my friends and family, and brush my hair, with this dollar store hairbrush.

One day my hair had become really badly knotted and tangled, because I hadn't been out of bed for 3 days. I ripped large chunks of hair out each time I passed the brush through my hair. On one of the passes, it broke in two. Much like the grappling depression that I was facing at that moment, I broke along with it. A simple, not special, dollar store hairbrush. Half of it in my hand, half of it clinging to the knot that overpowered it. As if I needed a reason to cry, and break down, I cried harder than I had allowed myself to in many, many years. I was angry at myself for the lack of self-care, the lack of being able to pull myself out of the depressive spiral I was in, and the lack of control I had in my life.

I pulled the piece out of my hair, and cleaned both halves, and decided that I was going to try and fix it. That if I could not fix myself, I was going to fix the one thing that I could. So, like a monkey doing a math problem, I looked at the two halves and fixated on how to make my brush whole again. I thought, maybe crazy glue. That did not work. Then I had the idea of using zip ties. The very same dollar store that I purchased the brush at years prior, I had bought some zip ties. So, I fused the two halves together and put the first zip tie on it, then the second. I added 2 more. I cut the ends, and walla it worked like new again. I cautiously pulled the brush through my hair, and it didn't snag on the zip ties. It felt sturdy, and improved. This unremarkable, nothing special, old, dollar store hairbrush.

Call it delusional, call it grasping at straws, or whatever. But it gave me hope. It spurred me on. I might not have been able to fix myself all at once. But I could take small steps to fix parts of myself until I felt closer to whole, rather than being in a hole. The Japanese have an art form called Kintsugi which is the joining of two broken halves of a plate or bowl with gold. Creating a beautiful wholly new item with unique designs and becomes a work of art. 

So each day, I worked on small piece of myself as I could. I dedicated sometime to my book, and sometime to my house, or my own personal care. A broken, now repaired, nothing special, dollar store hairbrush, became my own inside joking promise to always do my best, no matter how broken I was, I would keep trying. I would keep moving forward. Sometimes little things can be the biggest help, like a simple, nothing special, dollar store hairbrush. 

 It absolutely amazes me how people feel it necessary to always voice their opinions especially when they are negative and discouraging. It gives me more drive to want to get this book done and published. Because if I not being supported and I am the author, with all of the issues that I cover in the book, I can only imagine how someone who hasn't the strength to filter out the naysayers.

This is the entire reason that I started writing this book. Was because I felt massively unsupported in my own day-to-day life, and with my own struggles to find peace within my own spirit. If you are someone who is dealing with depression or other things that you cannot talk to anyone about, but you feel like it is eating away at you, please consider talking to someone professionally. 

You can call any of these numbers and talk to someone who will listen to you. There is also the new Nation Wide United States based 988 system. 

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline ​1-800-273-8255	Crisis Text Line ​Text HELLO to 741741	Alcoholics Anonymous ​(202) 966-9155	Narcotics Anonymous 1-800-543-4670
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (Spanish) 1-888-628-9454	National Domestic Violence Hotline 1-800-799-7233	Veterans Crisis Line 1-800-273-8255	National Sexual Assault Hotline 1-800-656-4673
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (Options for Deaf and Hard of Hearing) 1-800-799-4889	Child Abuse Hotline 1-800-422-4453	​Trevor Lifeline LGBTQ+     1-866-488-7386 ​ Trevor Crisis Text  Text the word START to 678678   *Standard messaging rates apply	Trans Life   ​1-877-565-8860 Elder LGBTQ+ 1-877-360-5428

 I had a wonderful meeting with the Resource Manager of The Nest. A quaint little coffee shop, information hub, and LGBTQIA+ friendly center. We talked about our mutual Peer Counseling journey, and about life in general and of course about the book. I was invited to come to a monthly Open Mic session where people can talk, sing, read poetry/passages, act or just have their 10 minutes of spotlight. 

Seeing this vibrant community center for persons of all ages, made me long for my days of being a teenager and wishing I had a place to go and hang out, and just talk to others when I needed to be able to talk to someone. So, I am rather excited to have made that connection and to see what possibilities come from it.

Today is the day that I am going to be live on air with The You Can Make A Difference Show with Mac McGregor. I am kind of nervous about this, but at the same time just ready for it to be over. My biggest fear is that im going to stumble over my words, have long pauses, and just for a lack of better term "shit the bed."

I've been on TV before. I've been in plays and other such productions. I even have my own YouTube and Podcast. But this is different, because I am not running the show. Because it's an audience that doesn't know me, my brand, or anything about my book. 

But as with all things, this is just another step on the path ahead and something that as an author I will need to face time and time again, especially when becoming the public face of the man behind the keyboard.