I cannot believe what an incredible process this has been.  I feel like a whole new human being with so many of the techniques I have practiced this week.  Really, I’ve only scratched the surface when it comes to self love.

I am going to continue finding ways to implement what I learned this week into my daily life.  The five things I have listed below are my top priorities in the future, when it comes to inner healing and self love.  I highly recommend these.  Again, this changed me so much.  I’m by no means completely healed, but I had zero (0) incidents this week of any kind, at a point in my life where incidents have increased, well, a lot.  Enjoy!

5. Be wary of social media

In my opinion, the human mind is not completely capable of handling social media sites such as Twitter and Facebook.  The constant barrage of material is just too much for the brain to handle.  See what people are doing, see what’s happening in the world, and then let the rest go.  It will be just fine.

4. Stand up above your weaknesses

Find out what is causing you to become weak and stop doing it.  We all have vices, addictions, distractions that cause us to become weaker, prone to mistakes, prone to defeats.  Get rid of them.  It is tough, but you’re tougher.  Some things may cause me to want to relapse.  But I will not let that happen anymore.  Beat these things and you’ll become unstoppable.

3. Appreciate everything you have

Everything can disappear in a heartbeat.  Take the time to remind everyone you care about that you care about them.  Don’t take your home for granted.  Don’t take your health for granted.  Love as much as you can because so many people will never reciprocate that.

2. Listen to Music

This may seem like a given, but there is more to it than that.  Find the music that takes you off this planet, and listen to that.  Become part of it.  Music heals.

1. Make love to yourself

Wait, what!?!  That’s gross.  Nah, it’s not what you think (kind of).  Imagine you’re going out on a date, and you really want to impress them, I mean really want to impress them.  You turn on your A game, and you put your best foot forward.  Set aside time to do that to yourself.  Give yourself your own A game.  You’ll appreciate it more than you’ll ever realize.

Task: Make a declaration on social media



These are just five things I am thankful for in no particular order.  I generally like to reflect on such things during Thanksgiving, but it’s important to do this every so often at all times of the year.

The Ability to Learn

Growing up, I struggled severely with social skills.  These problems worked their way well into adulthood.  However, I at no point needed to settle for staying this way.  I worked hard to learn how to overcome these issues.  Things aren’t perfect, but they were far better than they were even 15 years ago.  I don’t need to settle for abusive relationships, abusive friendships, and people who only focus on what’s wrong with me.

My Talents

I was born with talents many others consider strange.  I love to write, be creative, make things that will entertain.  There is so much awful in the world that I see nothing wrong with laughing and laughing often, so I try to create these things.  I was blessed with these skills.

My Health

With depression being so prevalent some days, I tend to discount my excellent physical health.  Although I spent much of my life almost 100 pounds underweight, I have started taking more concern over my physical nature and I feel so much better as a result.

My House

While I have been having many water problems lately, I look up and see a ceiling.  I look around me and I see walls.  There is a working heater.  I have power.  This is way more than many other people have, and I’m beyond thankful for this.

The People Around Me

I focus far too heavily on those around me who commit negative acts.  Maybe it’s just the negative bias all humans have?  I am clearly surrounded by AMAZING humans who I have been torturing with my issues lately.  I am so thankful for them, I wish they knew how much that means to me.

Task: Commit an Act of Kindness

This will get accomplished tomorrow as today was pretty busy:

I have a rule when it comes to my wardrobe.  If I don’t wear it in a year, it belongs to someone else.  I will be donating old sweaters, jackets, and pants to charity in hopes that they aren’t distributed for profit, but rather for those who need them this time of year.

Also in the near future I will be having a fun charity fundraiser of some variety for autism awareness and research, but more on that later.

I think I am unique.

Who the hell writes about self love? Don’t I have better things to do with my time?  Well, honestly, I’m just being unique.  Clearly, I am okay with being unique. Being unique doesn’t have to be a negative descriptor. I do prefer the term unique, although the terms people seem to prefer are “weird,” “bizarre,” or in some extreme cases, the “r” word. But what is this logic based on? Just because my eyes have a little less life? Just because I enjoy classic rock music from the 90’s? Or many because I like to play devil’s advocate with society’s norms?

I’m clearly not using my real name to blog, ugh, why on earth would I do something so totally weird? Well, maybe I want to stand out from the pack. Maybe I want to embrace the name I always associated with as an insult, and choose to take it proudly as my stage name. Maybe I like to protect my online privacy.  Or, God forbid, maybe, I just like it, and it helps me feel (gulp) unique.

I think I am creative.

I write books. I write songs. I write plays. I’ve written one novel and I’m currently writing a second one. I’ve written something like 50 songs, and I treasure all of them. I’ve written 4 plays that have been produced by actors, on stage, under lights, with an audience. I like to come up with ways to make the world a better, more enjoyable place.

I think I am intelligent.

I think it’s no secret I’m book smart. I’ve always been. Having said that, intelligence carries a bad rap.  For too long, I’ve had to bury my intelligence because “fitting in” paid the bills. But I am smart.  I’m proud to be smart.  I will never stop being smart, so I might as well embrace it.

I think I am sexy.

I am literally society’s definition of a perfect man.  So why I carried a 1/10 rating on the website Hot or Not was kind of an anomaly.  Honestly, those strangers I’ll never meet don’t matter.  All that matters is, I think I’m sexy, and if that bothers you, I literally don’t care in the slightest.  Eat my confidence.  Which leads to…

I think I am unapologetic in my confidence.

I am who I am and I am not changing for anyone.  I was dealt a tough hand, but that doesn’t mean I can’t win with it.  The best poker players in the world can take a pair of threes all the way to the bank.  Sure, it makes for a tougher game, but it happens. All that means is when I win, there’s more reward.

Task 1 – Get Outside and Connect

I got out of the house and treated myself to a good meal and made myself enjoy nature as much as I could, considering how chilly and breezy it was.  I managed to take this awesome picture of a cloud deck shortly before sunset.  No filter.  It was well worth the expense and the trip.


When you’re creative, you create. That’s what you’re born to do. You write. You draw. You make music, tell stories, organize words in a way that is meant to move, educate, or entertain. This is how creators speak to the rest of society, because explaining your feelings sometimes doesn’t make sense. You want your projects to somehow change the world, but most times, it won’t.

You might write a song that means the world to you, but means nothing to everyone else. Why would anyone want to hear your crappy, amateur song when there’s a whole world of real music on YouTube or Spotify you can listen to? You might draw a picture that signifies the constant war you have inside of you, but it isn’t as good as that painting hanging up at the museum, or be as detailed as that Oatmeal guy, so why bother?

You make a funny video on YouTube, only for no one to watch it except that old friend of yours who just wants to see you stop making videos because they’re scared of a little creative competition. They don’t understand that they’re secretly destroying the only thing that keeps you from jumping off the roof.

And when you’ve spent all your energy creating for no one else to understand it, you’re tired. You’ve felt like the work was for nothing. No response. No support. No reason to keep being creative. And the worst part is, we can’t stop.

“Just let the pros do it. Let *them* be the creative ones.”

No. No, it doesn’t work that way. You don’t tell a wounded bird to stop flying because other birds fly better. You don’t tell a sick person that they’re useless now. You keep up their strength by inspiring them. When you’re creative, there is no amount that will satisfy us. But its all we have. And when we get so tired that we can’t write or draw anymore, there’s nothing left for us.

Don’t tell me you love me if you can’t embrace my creative outlets. Don’t tell me you think the world of me if you can’t inspire me. Don’t tell me that growing up and being an adult is an alternate to being creative.

It doesn’t work that way. It can’t work that way.

Being an artist is hell.

This is an actual ghost story. It may not be creepy or scare you or keep you up at night, but it’s a ghost story. It’s honest, and it’s, believe it or not, uplifting.

At one time, I lived in a cavernous 50-year-old single-family house that never saw a single renovation. It wasn’t a bad house by any stretch; it was just a temporary place to live while I finished school and got my life sorted out. With a lot of TLC, it could have been gorgeous.

I don’t know much about the history of the house, but I do know that before I lived there, an older lady lived in the house by herself. According to some of the neighbors, she apparently had died there several years prior. At first I paid no attention to the story, until I realized something. I could hear her walking around. Often times, I would be working in my basement, when I would hear her light footsteps above me. There was no one else in the house, and I had no pets. This happened regularly. I would hear her walking back and forth, seemingly whenever.

It didn’t bother me. I embraced her presence. During my tenure there, I usually felt a feeling of comfort moments before any kind of bad news would come my way. It was if she already knew that something had happened and she was bracing me for the worst. I believe that she was a caring soul and she looked out for the best in me, like I was one of her own kids. I never knew her name, or anything about her. But I know she looked out for me. I miss her presence. Sometimes I feel like she was the only person, living or dead, who truly cared about me during that time.

Not all ghost stories have to be scary.