I Should Definitely Blog About the Addictions Thing, Meanwhile...

I won't elaborate on the inappropriate sexual thoughts here, since some of them could get me further shunned and for the fact that there may be children or teenagers reading this blog (as if teenagers don't have sexual thoughts... but I still want to be a good example for the younger adults and legally-considered-to-be children. I'm well into being a bat mitzvah-- some of these young a just became bnei v'banot mitzvah.).

As for the other addictions, they can be read about on my Twitter (@Nickidewbear) and heard about in a YouTube video which should have led some of you here. I'll blog more b'haboker (and blogging daily or almost daily is a commitment, one which can partly affect one to be worn out). L'Laila v'L'Erev Shabbat Tovim.

I'm Doing A Little Better, And It'll Be A Day-To-Day-Thing...

A day-to-day and pray-to-pray thing. Having Diplegic Spastia Cerebral Palsy plus OCD/Anxiety/Depression and Irritable Bowel Syndrome (and the BRCA1 gene), plus being a "mamzerah" Jewish American in a culture and in communities that don't accept Jews-- especially Messianic Jews-- is hard. Add having an imperfect-- e.g., covetous, adulterous, faithless, hopeless, hypocritical-- human nature to all that, and you've got a situation where a day-to-day, pray-to-pray thing is needed. Also, I'm still living with Great-Grandma Gaydos' avodah koferah (If you think that we have Vilmosz's et. al.'s blood removed from our hands-- although Vilmosz and others did survive-- you're meshuga: you don't understand what guilt down to the third and fourth generations is). And I'm living with Great-Grandma Czarnecki's blood because of Pop-Pop's avoda kofer and how he is left unprosecuted after almost five years.

So as a disabled, trying-to-figure-out-my-identity-as-a-Jew Jew and Jewish-American Christian with more than just Cerebral Palsy and meshuges un tsuris in di mispoche to deal with; I have a long, painful way and road to go-- though prayers have been answered so far, even if (over the years) not always in ways in which I'd've liked them to be answered.

Piano Lessons (And Calling Myself To the Carpet Is A Process)

In piano lessons today and during other times, I realize that I freak out and am not as focued as I should be on the music. Per my OCD/Anxiety/Depression and possible Aspberger's-- and non-medicated AD(H)D--, I can't stay as fully focused. I think about getting through practice as quickly as possible, or at least trying to, and being like the others who can (so to speak) churn out something like Bach's "Prelude in A Minor" in a minute or two (I can't play as fastly because of my Cerebral Palsy.). I worry about what other people will think, even if and though they're not in the practice room. For example, on the cover of the "American Soldier" sheet music is a picture of Toby Keith-- it's almost or somewhat like Toby is there and watching me-- and what would he think? (As I said, calling myself to the carpet, including sharing my weirder thoughts, is a process.)

And I don't practice as much as I should. Due to OCD, etc. and escapism, etc.; I just don't practice as much as I should-- I practice in small spurts, too-small spurts. And during my spurts, I often have the computer in my room by me. And as I said,  I think about getting through practice as quickly as possible, or at least trying to, and being like the others who can (so to speak) churn out something like Bach's "Prelude in A Minor" in a minute or two-- and get to their computers and go on Facebook or whatever.

I'll, unless by some miracle, never be Mozart, Beethoven, or Sallieri.

People, I'm Realistic; I'm Not Just a Disabled Depressive Who's a Pessimist

And it ain't just what I described in the video. Oh, I've read the horror stories-- e.g., one non-disabled girl was laughed at and ignored by boys in her church because of her breast size. Also, the actress from "Facts of Life" (I stand corrected for saying "Different Strokes")-- her story didn't end like J.R. Martinez's did, and she was born with a disability: she couldn't have gone and served, let alone bravely gotten injured, in the military if she wanted to.

I appreciate and value who I am in the eyes of even the Church and G-d, or else I wouldn't be honest about it: I'd pretend that everything's going to be okay, and that everything work out like it does for a typical person or even for Cinderella. As I said, I wouldn't be honest about who I am if I didn't value and appreciate it; and valuing and appreciating it means accepting it and accepting the reality of it, and accepting the reality (even the cold, bitter reality) that it brings and has brought.

If I Were To Write A Quick Blog Prayer To G-d, Well...

Let me for once have a break. Sure, I've had blessings; and I'm not asking for my thorns in the flesh to be taken away-- in fact, I've dreaded what'll happen if you do. You'll make me give up politics and go into math and science, for example; because then I won't have CP and OCD and be physically healed and able to go into math and science. In fact, you didn't take Paul's thorns in the flesh away-- or Nick Vujvicic's. Let me at least manage my OCD, etc. for once.


I could go on and on, but this is why I don't pray a lot-- not long prayers, anyway. Besides, you can read my thoughts; and you have answered my prayers, and many not always in a way which I've liked or prayed for.

When You're Like Me; Suicide Is Still Awfully Tempting No Matter How Painful It Is

And maybe that's part of suicide's appeal-- the pain, the selfishness. For example, some people say that would miss me if I committed suicide-- boy, would I like to come back and see them put their money where there mouth is (I almost typed "mouth where their money is", but maybe that, too.). Besides, if they want me around so badly (and with all due respect and deference, STFU if you want to start kvetching about how this is typical suicidal talk, etc.; you will utz me):

1. Why do they treat me like they'd rather me be dead? And while they're at it; some of them hate me because I'm on the lowest of the lowest, of the lowest of the lowest rung of the social ladder in general society-- the disabled. For example, I have Cerebral Palsy (Diplegic Spastia); and I don't hear anyone talking about Julie Cirella anymore-- in fact, I almost suspect that some think that Julie Cirella's mother did the right and honorable thing. But they sure as Heaven and Hell wouldn't say that if Julie Cirella weren't disabled (and forget that she's Black-- her disability, not her ethnicity, is what makes her less honored than Caylee Anthony, Leiby Kletzky-- of whom I am a fellow Israelite--, and the Coleman boys, for example.).
2. Why do some of them try to contol my life and otherwise abuse (including ignore and withhold important information, including documents) from me, knowing that they damned well couldn't do that if I weren't disabled? FYI, Dad; were I not disabled, you never would've gotten away with even some of your physical abuse, let alone (among other actions) your verbal and other non-physical abuse and withholding that Great-Granddad Czarnecki and Great-Great-Granddad Foczko both committed suicide (which would have explained why I tried to commit suicide-- people without a history of suicide and/or other significant issues in their family and other history don't attempt or threaten suicide).
3. Same question above, except my prime example-- my thought policewoman of a mother. You damned well know, Mom, that you would never try to control what I at 21 years old say, do, etc. if I weren't disabled and had prospects. And I'm sorrowed (Why should I be "sorry"? I'm not apologizing for having my own thoughts, etc. at 21; so I'm sorrowed)  that, for example, my being proud of my Jewish heritage (no matter how unproud of it Dad and his family are) isn't your cup of tea. Besides, see if I ever tweet about anything that you might need prayer for or any appreciation of anything that you do or go through again-- after all, you "don't want to live [your] life out in the public venue".

I could give more examples, but I think that being on the most-times-over-lowest-of-the-lowest rung of the social ladder and easily abusable because of my Cerebral Palsy is an understandable reason for why I'm still often quite tempted to commit selfish suicide-- rub the pain that they've affected and effected in, and get the last laugh ("See you suckers! I'll be in Heaven; you'll still be here!").

"Slow and Steady Wins Races", as My Ex Points Out

 And that's one of the things that we learn with CP: thank G-d that we can't do as much in some ways. e.g., my non-disabled cousin Tommy Zinkand had the opportunity to ride a motorcycle and convinced himself that he was invincible. On June 26, 2005; he was going too fast and hit a minivan body on. On Sunday; six years will have passed (Poor Danny and Terri. Danny's his dad, Terri his sister.). By the way, that side of my Farrell-DeBoy family has not had life easy: besides Tommy, Danny's wife (and Terri's and Tommy's mom) Sylvia, cousin (and my aunt) Mary Carole Allen Hamilton, and brother-in-law (and Terri's and Tommy's uncle) Danny Dugas all died at around this time of year as well (Aunt Mary Carole on Flag Day 2008, and Danny Dugas a week ago, and Sylvie (Sylvia)... let me check... April 28, 2010. Not an easy couple of months to get through for the Farrell-DeBoy Zinkands.).

There Were A Couple Times Where I Thought About Committing Suicide Today. Why?

1. I am a diagnosee of OCD/Anxiety/Depression and Diplegic Spastia Cerebral Palsy, and self diagnosee of IBS (I know what I have; thank you very much. My dad has Chron's, and my granddad has had Chron's- but not that he'll admit it- and Colon Cancer).
2. I am housestuck and single especially because of the Cerebral Palsy.
3. I am housestuck and single because said CP renders me unable to drive.
4. My mom sides with and/or enables my abusers and persecutors, and gets angry when I confront them; and takes advantage of the fact that I have Cerebral Palsy, can't drive, and am single. Thus, I am still stuck in her house.
5. My dad and quite a few in his family are evil, enablers of evil, and both.

I could give more reasons, but you get the point.