10:16 PM - Thurs 10.15.15
Burning Down The House

Weird dream this morning...

Don't remember much of it, but what I do remember is that, for some reason, I'd decided to burn my house down (At least, I think it was my house...in any case, it was a house - not an apartment - and it was someplace I was living, as an adult. And other people were living there as well, though I'm not sure who).

I watched from a distance as the fire started to catch (though I didn't see flames, only the increasing glow inside), then left.

Don't know why I was doing it, but I did it, thinking no one would be home. Then, for some reason, I started worrying that people were there, that I'd been weirdly lax about really checking, and was mentally berating myself for not planning better (The fact that I'd maybe killed people was only a problem because I feared getting caught).

I woke up as I was contemplating what to do next - "Should I leave the country...?" - hoping against hope that "If people were inside, maybe they woke up, and put it out...".

Though I'm less impressed with my brainpower than I used to be - a lot less - I'd still say I'm "smarter than average".

So it frustrates me when I can't seem to complete a simple task, or when I can't, or won't, figure out the logical progression of steps to get something done.

Decided recently I needed to get some help with my smarter-than-average brain ("Smarter-than-average" maybe, but also "more-fucked-up-than-average").

But instead of checking to see what my insurance covers, I called two places that don't take insurance (That charge fees on a sliding-scale based on income), doing a "phone intake" at one, and making an appointment at another, before then checking my insurance.

I think that was partially out of habit - I basically had "an old script" in my head where health insurance "mental health benefits" were minimal or non-existent, and I didn't have the means to see a "real" therapist.

But turns out my insurance covers 40 visits with a $10 co-pay (Then the co-pay plus 10% after that), and the "40 visits with $10 co-pay" starts over again in the new year.

So I cancelled my appointment at the one place (My first visit for an "intake session" would have cost $65), told the other that it had basically been a fallback in the first place (After doing a 45 minute "phone intake" the day before), and got a few numbers of therapists to call from my insurance (I'm waiting to hear back from the first guy I called).

In other words, I made things much more complicated than they needed to be, but I'm on the path to talking to someone, at some point, about my shit.

My brother Gregg was hoping he'd be conferring with his Doctor today about his medical situation.

Instead, they sent his test results to the Mayo Clinic (Something he was told they do in maybe ten percent of cases, which feels somewhat ominous to me), so "today" has now become "Tuesday".

I cannot imagine the level of anxiety I'd be feeling in this situation - I lose my mind when I have to wait to hear which way a commercial "avail" will go - but if this were happening to me, I'm pretty sure I'd want to just sit in my darkened apartment all weekend and contemplate worst-case scenarios (Which is kinda what I want to do anyway these days).

Gregg, however, is made of different stuff - He's continuing on with his life, visiting his sister in West Virginia (It's her birthday this weekend), and planning to do anything but obsess over Tuesday.

Sure, he's worried and would like to "know what he's dealing with" - who wouldn't? - but at the same time, he's got people, he's got a life, and he's clearly drawing strength from it.

And I guess, when it comes down to it, Tuesday will be here soon enough.

(And now for the "making things all about me" portion-of-the-program...)

This is a situation I would never have expected to be in, and I have to imagine it's a situation relatively few people find themselves in (Where a relative you've never met in person, that you've nevertheless formed something of a relationship with, develops a serious medical problem).

Though I imagine one thing I'm feeling is pretty universal (Wanting to be helpful, but not knowing what to say, and feeling frustrated by my impotence in the situation), and another - feeling like I don't know my "place" in this set of circumstances, that I don't know where I "belong" - is all-too-familiar.

Gregg has a wealth of "people" - wife, family, brothers/sisters, friends, church, etc - so, maybe to get myself off-the-hook emotionally, I want to tell myself, "He doesn't need me".

But while I might be a "late arrival", and I might be most of the way across the country, I'm his "people" too (At least that's how I think this "family thing" is supposed to work).

And even though this is "uncharted territory", using that giant brain I mentioned earlier, it strikes me that all I have to do is simply be "open", and "follow his lead" - If he want/needs to talk to me a lot, to make myself available, and if he doesn't so much, just make sure I'm "checking on him" regularly.

I'm not the "star of the show" here - he is.

And of course, there's the fact that we have not actually met at this point - It's something that has come up in conversation when we've talked, but till now, financial stresses (On both sides) have kept it just talk.

But I think talking about a trip really has to wait, again, till he gets a diagnosis, and knows where he stands (And we can figure out the best "timing" for it, whatever the diagnosis/prognosis ends up being).

The word that just struck me as I was writing that last paragraph was "surreal"...

I've thought about these sorts of issues with my mother (Who seems to have lost any interest in writing me), like how I met her the one time, which will very possibly be the last time, and what that might or might not mean to me.

But I never gave much thought to meeting Tony, only to have him take ill and maybe die, or vaguely plan to meet Gregg some time, then never get the chance.

Just goes to show - I think I'm some world-class worrier...but like most things in my life, I never seem to "get it right".

Today, I would have had my "intake" at the Maple Clinic, had I not cancelled, which I'm assuming means I would have been on my way to weekly therapy soon after.

I'm kind of regretting cancelling right now - I got five therapists names from my insurance, decided to call one at a time (Seemed less "complicated"), waited all day to hear back from the one guy, and...bupkis.

So I don't know whether to call the other four this weekend, leaving messages and waiting to hear back whenever, or wait till Monday morning and call each in turn, hoping to get people live, but it seems clear I've drawn this process out, when I could really benefit from talking to someone sooner- rather-than-later.

(Where am I at? Well, I don't plan on killing myself, but I kind of feel like if I "didn't wake up" tomorrow, that wouldn't be the worst thing.)

Having that "I'm really embarrassed I wrote what I wrote" feeling about my last entry, but really, who gives a shit?

I don't have anyone to confide in - as in a day-to-day "person to talk to" - and haven't for a very long time (Howard was a friend, I guess, but not that kind of friend).

I think I'm a smart, funny, personable guy, but a life of relative friendless-ness suggests I may be giving myself way too much credit on the "personality" front. But anyway...

Since I don't really have friends, or really anyone to talk to on a regular basis - that's one of the big reasons I need a "therapist", just to have someone to talk to - I'm going to try and rope you in, you poor unfortunates.

I imagine there will always be limits on what I feel I can say - Can't confess to any crimes, probably shouldn't disparage any acting projects I'm working on or break any NDA's I've signed, and so on (Should probably try not to metaphorically, "cut my own throat" if I can help it) - but in terms of my own shit? What's going on in my head in a given moment, and that sort of nonsense?

I might be embarrassed about my "self-abuse" - not the fun kind (That's just sort of sad, that it's all I've got at this point), but the seriously dysfunctional kind - but like showing my ass on that recent commercial shoot, it was something I didn't really want to do, but I did it, and whether it was a good, bad, or indifferent thing for me to do, life goes on.

But while "life goes on", this entry does not, because I've got to attend to some pre-bedtime chores...

(Reminder to self: I really want to post about the female nudity in my recent acting life, which hasn't been part of my personal life since the early 90s. I keep thinking about it, so clearly there's something intriguing & odd to me about the whole thing...)

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