Sleep and yoga.

Sure enough, nervously walking around trying to figure out what to eat with my pills. I went with oatmeal. I hear it's high in B vitamins and if there is a deficiency in B vitamins, you'll be more prone to getting depressed. This morning my wife informed me that, A.) I slept a lot better last night than I had in a while...new sleepy/mood stabilizer pills, and B.) that there was a yoga class at the gym at 1pm. After she left, I did the oatmeal and pills special and went back to sleep listening to Howard Stern on Sirius satellite radio. When it was over and "The Rap-up Show" was happening I woke up for good. I got a call from Scott and managed to get to the gym for the yoga class.
That really was the first time I'd done an entire hour of yoga with the guidance of an instructor. It felt pretty good. Of course, I kept questioning "Is this the point?" "No." Disappointment. "Am I better yet?" "No." I'm kind of impatient. And I kept wandering where my pic-a-nic basket was.
So, when the class was over, I went back into the gym and did 20 minutes on an eliptical and got my stuff and left.
I should call Scott. Maybe we'll hang out. I've found evenings are much better for me than day time right now.
Oh yeah, I don't remember if I put this in my last blog but, my psychiatrist wants me to call and get evaluated for an intensive outpatient group therapy program that would go three days a week for three hours a day. I probably will but I've got shit to do right now. (And the demon inside me says, "not that any of the other stuff matters." Oooh I hate that guy."
I should probably do it. As much as I don't want to, I should do it.
OK
Signing off.

Enfrightenment...The Musical.

So I'm just this crazy:
Remember what I told you about "my man Chopra". Fuck that guy. I listened to the full five hours of "How to Know God" and by 4 and a half hours in I was shaking and panicking like an 82' ford pickup that had never had it's oil changed. Luckily, right about then, Chris Hauser called (in a very Jedi-like fashion) and said he felt like he should call me. I picked up as many pieces of my brain as I could find and jammed them into the ripped bag of my heart and stuffed them in my pocket and then I went to Chris' Haus...apartment.
I've found that talking about it and debating my weird philosophical problems with others helps at least until we're done talking. I've also found that, for now, I need to take all the medicine that the doctor will give me. I am finding the power of now and the unreality of eternity...which is good. I figured out (philosophically, anyway) that eternity is only a mathematical extraction but really has no basis in real life. Here's what I mean.
If time is infinite then at least one of these two things must happen (or not happen). 1. If time extends infinitely behind you, then you can never have gotten hear because you'll always be waiting for that bus that's never going to end it's route. AND/OR 2. If time extends eternally ahead of you, then you never get to infinity, which means it never exists.
There's also the idea that the ... never mind this is the part I don't want to share with anyone, lest I passive aggressively cut the legs out from under my own theory.


A friend said that maybe all this pain I'm going through right now is good. Like it was a form of "enlightenment". I don't know about all that but it sure is changing me, little by little.
For the record, I'm not looking at this as being "important" or "special" or "unique" or "better than ?". I'm just looking at this as being where I'm at.

By the way, there's also infinite smallness and infinite largeness which prevents the possibility of anything existing at all anyway. So reality's kind of what you make of it.

I will forget all of this in the morning when I'm anxiously wandering around my apartment trying to decide what to eat with my pills.

By the way, I saw my psychologist for the first time today. Surprise! This may have little to do with the state of reality and the universe. It might have to do with some shortcoming in my upbringing. Huh. I guess I should've known that. Anyway, the psychologist appears to be a sharp woman who was cutting through all the bullshit that my brain is distracting me with.

Deepak, meet the Rooster.

How is everybody? Seriously, if everyone could answer at once, that would explain the noise outside my window. But, alas, it is just the wind. I have found a moment of clarity here so that I can spout some nonsense. Interesting how that works for me, Chris Churchill. I have slipped from the claws of insanity for just long enough to spout some nonsense. Is that backwards? I've been worried a lot lately that I'm not going to get better. I'm still worried. But that's what makes me do whatever I can to try to get better. I've been excercising a lot. Listening to my man Deepak Chopra. He manages to say the right thing. I'm not going to say what the most recent realization was for me because it seems that when i do, it suddenly becomes something that I find untrue due to a.) my instant paranoia that everyone will need me to prove it to them and b.) my passive aggressive tendencies which cause me to say "fuck you, I'm not going to prove it. In fact, I don't believe it. Back to being sad and panicked."
I've been worried that I'll never feel like having fun again and therefore I'd never feel like being funny, which is why I moved to Chicago in the first place. In my recent soul searching I've found that I miss my family, I'm somewhat ashamed of my station in life (not that driving trolleys isn't fun), and that I need to get back to school and get a real job that helps people.
So, as a solution, I've had pieces of my family chopped off and sent (along with my college transcripts) to the trolley barn so that they'll fire me (which is the only way I'd ever leave). Then I'll take that package to college and then I'll win college and they'll give me the Captain College College Captain Hat.
The biggest problem with me right this minute is that I can't get a real nights sleep. I mean I guess six hours is pretty normal for most people but falling to sleep at 10:30 and waking up at 4:15 wide awake and ready for a day of wishing I was asleep is a little tough to take after a while. The doctor even gave me some sleeping pills. They help me fall asleep but they don't help me stay asleep.
This morning I got up and found the rooster was still drinking at the bar. I said, "Hey, you got two hours before you have to wake everyone else up." The Rooster said, "Man. I like drinking now. You like getting up early now. Let's switch." I said, "Hopefully this is only temporary." and the rooster just laughed. "That's what I thought...at first. Do you know how long I've been 'the rooster'?" Pause. Twitch of my lip. "No." Rooster said. "I can't remember. I'm drunk."

That'll have to be expounded upon and performed at the next Co-Governors of Space appearance.

The man with the Space Flu,
Out!