Reading, Writing, And Arithmedick

There is another story in the news with a woman sleeping with a student at school. I had recently written about this happening between a student and teacher. This time it was a guidance counselor. Ellen Wermeling, 32, was a counselor at Aldine MacArthur High School in Houston, Texas and is being accused of boning a 12th grade student. The student told police that they messaged each other through Instagram and she was going to pick him up to “hang out” at her place.

Wermeling (which is a last name I would have changed as soon as I was legally allowed to) and this dude hooked up at her place, watched a couple of movies, he gave her a back massage, and then had sex. He said they then had sex on a few more occasions. Wermeling denied speaking to the guy on Instagram but then deleted her account the same day these allegations popped up.

In an interview the student said “In the heat of the moment, nothing really was wrong. At the end of the day, I'm 18 and I'm an adult and I make my own decisions.” Legally he is an adult but Wermeling is still a staff member and as much as you may wanna bone this cute ass lady it is against the law. She was put on paid leave then canned from her job. She was arrested and released on $10,000 bond. By the way, humanity. If you are at a woman's house and she asks for a massage chances are a penis will be touched.

"Where Is My Mind...?" Trois

So I haven’t been going to the therapist on Wednesdays. Yeah, I enjoyed it the first time but just cant bring myself to go again. The first time I missed it was because I didn’t feel like feeling bad. No, the first time I didn’t feel bad but that was more of an introductory deal. The next week she wasn’t there. Then last week I called out. Today I missed it again.

Now, what I mean when I say “I didn’t feel like feeling bad” is that I didn’t feel like rehashing bad shit going on in my life. I have been feeling good lately. If I have a problem I talk about it with my friends or lady. I write about things on my mind. The main reason I was going to this therapist was because I wanted to find out why I was feeling so shitty so consistently. I no longer felt/feel that by talking to this lady that I will get the answer. As cheesy as it sounds the answer is on the inside.

I call myself an introverted extrovert. I am very animated on the inside and rarely let that side of me out. When I am in church and everyone is going crazy I am as well…on the inside. On the inside I am singing and clapping with the best of them. At parties when there is great music playing I am sitting there tapping my fingers and leg. Inside I am rocking the fuck out! When I am furious I sit quietly and listen. On the inside I am raging. I get my stuff out during long conversations and through my art and stories. If something crosses my mind a character will say it, do it, or try to stop someone from doing it. I started to feel like talking to this therapist was going to keep me from growing by having me not just touch on my past and things that hamper me, but get there and stay there.

Some wounds need to heal and ripping the bandaid off while its still bleeding doesn’t always help. Talking about my dead brother to a stranger doesn’t make me feel good. Talking about him with my friends and lady does. No, not all my issues revolve around his death but a lot of feelings that I have do. I am working on them through thoughts, talking, and praying for understanding. The praying thing is still relatively new to me but it feels good. It feels really good, actually.

So my chapter in life involving therapy is over for the time being. I will call and let them know that I will no longer be using their service. I know I’m not done with it forever. Just right now. Right now I need to focus on being a better version of Dante.

Rockets.

"Where Is My Mind...?" Deux

So I went to my first session of counseling. It went better than I had hoped. I got there on time and waited a couple minutes until she showed up. After that we sat down and started with the introductions.

Now, the thing is that I don’t know how to describe myself. Its pretty much what my profile says about me. I’m not exciting. I’m not loud or anything. I don’t go on adventures. I honestly consider myself dull and am amazed that seeing as how I am indoors at home 6 ½ out of 7 days in the week that I am still able to talk for hours on the phone everyday. So, yeah. Mr. Electricity I’m not.

So during the talk I start talking about my writing and how its easy for me. This is the most easy thing on Earth for me but it’s the most productive mentally and spiritually. She asked if I would ever consider getting paid for it. Yes, I would. But I would also feel bad since its so easy.

Huh?

After saying that I started to realize something. For some reason I feel bad getting paid or congratulated for something that isn’t hard for me. I cant accept compliments for things that come easy. Why is that? What is in my system that made me this way? Growing up I would get told how smart I was. I didn’t care, it was easy. I was told that I was funny. I didn’t care since I wasn’t trying to be. Hell, when someone tells me I am attractive I don’t believe it. That’s not because I think I am. I just have too many voices from childhood and my mother calling me an “ugly little motherfucker.” Maybe one day I will allow myself the simple joy of saying “Thank you!”

So one down and God knows how many to go. It was good and I felt better afterwards. Me and my lady were supposed to go to church after my counseling but they are doing a series of prayer stuff that we weren’t prepared for. We ended up at my place and had our own bible study. No, that’s not some sexual innuendo or anything. We actually studied the bible. It was nice. Thanks for reading this, ya’ll.

Rockets.

"Where Is My Mind...?"

So later today I am heading to a church counselor. This is the first time in years that I have gone to any form of counselor. In high school they sent me to counselors and they were a joke. To call them counselors is an insult to actual counselors.

I was at Fairfax less than a month when I was first sent to counseling. Now, I’m still not sure what set it off. Its not like I walked around staring at walls or threatened people. But there is something inside of me that either draws people towards me or pushes them away. Maybe one day I will find out or perhaps when I hopefully meet my Lord.

Now mind you, I arrived at Fairfax a month into the school year. I knew no one and didn’t really try. By the time I had left my other school I was alone. My friends had left. I would just listen to my Walkman and draw. I was fine with this routine. My plan after school by this point was no longer to go to college and study to be a brain surgeon or a marine biologist. I just wanted to drift.

One of the counselors was a group. It was called Impact. Hmm. Maybe that’s why I don’t like TNA Wrestling. Impact was for stoners, cutters, and miserable bastards in general. I was none of these things. I never went to Impact. I had photography with a son of a bitch teacher (Mr. Spitzer) that ran the program. He would send me to the office when I refused to go. Now that’s good teachin’! He also called me gay and said I had ADD.

The next was this lady Ms. Razi. This was one on one. I only went to her maybe three times before she had to leave because she got knocked up. She barely looked at me. All I recall from her is looking at the half top of her head wrap and her light colored skin. Our conversations went like this.

“How do you get along with your parents?”

“Not good. But I cant change them.”

“Yeah, you cant change them…”

That was how it was. I was glad when she left. This was a waste of time and I was at school to attempt to get an education. My next was another group. The Black Man’s Support Group. Out of all of these this was the one I hated the most. It was just nothing but being told how the White man was not gonna help me. Nothing constructive. Just being told that the White man would keep me down but not saying, “But don’t worry because the Black man will!” Its like someone telling you that you’re gonna be shot in the face later but not by who. The thing I hated was that I would be pulled out of Advance Physical Science (a senior class I fought to be allowed in!) every Wednesday for this shit. I would be all sweaty from volleyball and just sit there for the first fifteen minutes with my head down and a towel on my head. This went on until I was in the 11th grade and told everyone at the office that I refused to waste anymore time going there. One of the lady’s in the office was pissed by my comment because she ran that program along with this random ass Black guy.

I am hoping that today goes well. I have so much shit that I need to get out of me. No amount of story writing, drawing, article writing, or movie making can ever get all the shit crammed into my skull out. I need to dig even deeper. Maybe I wont like what they have to say and what I’ll have to hear, but I have to do something.

Right?

Rockets.

Deux Ex Plantana

You ever get sick of being human? Or better yet, being human? There are times where I look at a plant and think, “All’s you have to do is get water and enough light to stay alive. Bastard.” This thought will cross my mind during certain times or events.

I wish I were a plant sometimes. But I need to see my friends and talk to them. If I were a plant this would not be possible. Some people do talk to plants. It’s supposed to help them grow. But have you ever noticed how much shit humans say to each other to keep them from growing? We can be so mean to each other. Plants do have to deal with that unless they are near one of those crazy ass plants that choke others.

I am supposed to start going to a counselor at my church this week. I hope it goes well. Lately, even though there has been some good stuff going on, I keep feeling down and this isn’t fun. I’m used to laughing more often. Smiling more. Just being happy. But those moments are coming less often and its making me feel like a depressed guy that got dumped into a body that used to find joy in life.

I talk to my friends and my lady about things that are bothering me but now I am feeling like a bitch. Like all I have is negative things swirling in my head and that eventually I’ll push them all away with it. I cant do that. So I am gonna head to counseling and lay it all out there and see what happens. I really hope it helps. I am just tired of feeling like a loser.

Rockets.

Never Enjoyed Being Unemployed...

Sometimes you expect things to happen one way and they go another. Like, for the past few weeks I have been waiting for my unemployment check. I should take a photo of my fridge as proof of how bad things have gotten. I think I saw a tumble weed in there last week…

Anyhoot, so I was expecting my check last week. Mind you, in the past 3 months I have not worked I have only gotten two checks. One for 1 weeks pay and the other for 2. The worse thing is how small they are. They are literally half of what I used to get. Now, when you realize that I was making it by barely most weeks this makes life even more interesting. So when my check didn’t come it made me freak out a bit.

I hate to admit it but money affects my mood. I don’t like money. I wish I lived in a world where I went to work and my rent was paid automatically. That I could come home and food just popped into the fridge because I worked. So, I’m just waiting for this check that turns out was not coming for the past couple weeks and sweating balls. I got a letter from the unemployment office saying they are gonna call. So I’m looking online and seeing what you’re supposed to say during interviews and everyone has one rule:

Tell the truth.

Not a problem. I just wanted to get my money! So the call was for today between 8am and 10am. The called around 8:44am. The lady was really nice and polite and so was I. It took a couple of minutes and it turned out there was a small mistake on my part. The cool thing is that as soon as I get my check next week I have to send the next one in as soon as possible. I am feeling a bit better. I hate worrying about paying rent.

I called my lady’s church to speak to a counselor. I have been feeling too flip floppy with my emotions and wanna do something about it before I get too damned low. I have times where I’m really good. I’m laughing, talking, being creative. But the times where I’m down are getting too bad and coming too frequently. I have to do something about it. I talked to a lady for a few minutes and they are gonna call me back next week to set me up with someone to speak to in person.

One thing I liked was the questions. Drugs, sexual, spiritually, depression, all of these things were touched upon and I’m not getting drunk or high to deal with this. That seems to be the opposite of what you should do. I don’t even drink when I am upset. I don’t wanna meet that Dante. Okay, I think I am done for now. Take care, everyone.

Rockets.