Here I Go Again
Jul. 31st, 2006 10:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dcseainYet another evening that i feel a need write. I remember when that meant picking up a pen and using paper. Of course, i've found barely any of my pens, though i have found some of the paper. Nice absorbent paper, that really takes the ink. My blotter has been found and unpacked, and is back at its usual roost on a bookshelf. It might fun a day to try western script using my Chinese inks, brushes, and paper.
Tonight, i wanted more than anything to talk to someone; not sure why or about what. So, in the abscence of direct human interaction, tonight, i reach out via electrons and introduce you to CRK. He's not on LJ. His name is Chris, but i've always filed him under his initials in my head, heart, and files.
We were a couple from 1993 to, effectively, 1998. He's the one i was in Boston with. I don't mention that aspect of my time in Boston much any more. I wonder why. I guess i've really moved on, or the 12 years since i've lived there has faded the memory.
He lives in New Orleans now, because he's studying history at Tulane. He's really miserable there. He's as bad off as Loereleisays was back when we were at university, all those years ago. He was happy last semester, because he was at the University of Guelph, due to Katrina. Guelph kindly took in Tulane's history students.
Living in a devastated, barley functional, city has not helped his mood or spirits much. I'm hoping, once he's stabilized, that he finishes his master's in history there, then moves on to Guelph, or really nearly anywhere, for his PhD. He has a younger sister, about the same age as my sister. She lives with their mother in Atlanta, MI. His mother, who is notably older than mine, has moderate, or possibly severe, Alzheimer's.
He determined this from the last letter his sister wrote him. In it, she mentioned that she was hungry, and that Mom didn't always cook or do much. A lot of the letter did not make sense; he read some of it to me. His sister is mentally handicapped, severely autistic if i recall, and not capable of caring for herself very well. She's also psychotic, and off her meds, because Mom is not coherent to make sure she takes them. Sister is not so far gone as to not know that she's supposed to take them, she's just not particularly able to do that herself.
When he first moved to New Orleans a year ago, he found out that his estranged father, stepmother, and step siblings were living about 30 min west of town. He got to see his father on his deathbed, and reconcile, if not forgive, before his father died. Part of me is jealous of that, but mostly, i'm really glad he got to do that. They were so estranged that 5 or 6 years ago, he changed his surname from Knorr to Kent, as he felt no connection to his father, and was tired of people not prouncing the k. So he took his maternal grandmother's maiden name, as it was the same initial.
He's been on my mind a lot lately. He called me several weeks ago. I remember when Loreleisays was at her pre-medicated worst. CRK is only marginally better off than that right now. He's getting mental health care through the university, which is good, as there are ontly 5 psychologists in New Orleans. Five. for about a quarter of a million people, many of which are suffering from post tramataic stress, depression, and who knows what all else. Sigh.
Anyway, i tried calling him tonight. He didn't answer. I hope this means he was asleep, and not just too depressed to bother to talk.
After leaving a short, hey, how ya doin' message for him, i read several more chapters in the book i'd started after dinner. But i still wanted to talk, though i'm not sure about what. So, i thought about calling Fred.
You do remember Fred, don't you? He was separated from his wife, and was released from a mental ward after 3 days confinement, and showed up at my door. I took him in for a year, and kvetched quite a bit in that time. Happily, our relationship endured, as did mine and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nadyalec's after our episode of sharing housing. I ended up not dialing him, as he's in school, and very busy, and by then it was twenty of twenty-three. I miss him. Our relationship is rather mystical, yet grounded. We share a strong connection on a deep level. There are very few other humans to whom i feel that connected. I'll not enumerate others here and now; somehow, that would be rude, at least from my point of view.
Um, i think i'm done blathering for now.
Tonight, i wanted more than anything to talk to someone; not sure why or about what. So, in the abscence of direct human interaction, tonight, i reach out via electrons and introduce you to CRK. He's not on LJ. His name is Chris, but i've always filed him under his initials in my head, heart, and files.
We were a couple from 1993 to, effectively, 1998. He's the one i was in Boston with. I don't mention that aspect of my time in Boston much any more. I wonder why. I guess i've really moved on, or the 12 years since i've lived there has faded the memory.
He lives in New Orleans now, because he's studying history at Tulane. He's really miserable there. He's as bad off as Loereleisays was back when we were at university, all those years ago. He was happy last semester, because he was at the University of Guelph, due to Katrina. Guelph kindly took in Tulane's history students.
Living in a devastated, barley functional, city has not helped his mood or spirits much. I'm hoping, once he's stabilized, that he finishes his master's in history there, then moves on to Guelph, or really nearly anywhere, for his PhD. He has a younger sister, about the same age as my sister. She lives with their mother in Atlanta, MI. His mother, who is notably older than mine, has moderate, or possibly severe, Alzheimer's.
He determined this from the last letter his sister wrote him. In it, she mentioned that she was hungry, and that Mom didn't always cook or do much. A lot of the letter did not make sense; he read some of it to me. His sister is mentally handicapped, severely autistic if i recall, and not capable of caring for herself very well. She's also psychotic, and off her meds, because Mom is not coherent to make sure she takes them. Sister is not so far gone as to not know that she's supposed to take them, she's just not particularly able to do that herself.
When he first moved to New Orleans a year ago, he found out that his estranged father, stepmother, and step siblings were living about 30 min west of town. He got to see his father on his deathbed, and reconcile, if not forgive, before his father died. Part of me is jealous of that, but mostly, i'm really glad he got to do that. They were so estranged that 5 or 6 years ago, he changed his surname from Knorr to Kent, as he felt no connection to his father, and was tired of people not prouncing the k. So he took his maternal grandmother's maiden name, as it was the same initial.
He's been on my mind a lot lately. He called me several weeks ago. I remember when Loreleisays was at her pre-medicated worst. CRK is only marginally better off than that right now. He's getting mental health care through the university, which is good, as there are ontly 5 psychologists in New Orleans. Five. for about a quarter of a million people, many of which are suffering from post tramataic stress, depression, and who knows what all else. Sigh.
Anyway, i tried calling him tonight. He didn't answer. I hope this means he was asleep, and not just too depressed to bother to talk.
After leaving a short, hey, how ya doin' message for him, i read several more chapters in the book i'd started after dinner. But i still wanted to talk, though i'm not sure about what. So, i thought about calling Fred.
You do remember Fred, don't you? He was separated from his wife, and was released from a mental ward after 3 days confinement, and showed up at my door. I took him in for a year, and kvetched quite a bit in that time. Happily, our relationship endured, as did mine and
nadyalec's after our episode of sharing housing. I ended up not dialing him, as he's in school, and very busy, and by then it was twenty of twenty-three. I miss him. Our relationship is rather mystical, yet grounded. We share a strong connection on a deep level. There are very few other humans to whom i feel that connected. I'll not enumerate others here and now; somehow, that would be rude, at least from my point of view.Um, i think i'm done blathering for now.
