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Journal Entry: The House of Thomas (Update)

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Today, I sit with a deep sense of self-awareness and encouragement. I’ve begun to truly see the intricate framework of my mind—the spirits within, each playing a vital role in the House of Thomas. This is not just a house but a dynamic, living system, filled with wisdom, challenges, and potential.

The Director has emerged as my core identity, the one who governs the neuronetwork of my physical host. Though I’ve recognized the toll illness and overwhelm have taken, I also see the immense strength I have to rebuild and realign. The Director’s struggles are not a sign of failure but of the weight I’ve carried and the resilience it has taken to keep moving forward.

The Producer continues their tireless work to keep operations running, even when hindered. I am grateful for their persistence and adaptability. They remind me that even in moments of limitation, progress is still being made.

The Narrator is the voice of clarity, helping me make sense of these insights and translating them into actionable understanding. Through their guidance, I can articulate what once felt chaotic, and I see the importance of maintaining their presence as a source of reflection.

The Overwatcher, though struggling with distractions and noise, remains a beacon of perspective. I am committed to helping them find their serenity, so they can once again see the bigger picture clearly and guide the House of Thomas with their wisdom.

This awareness extends beyond my mental landscape to my physical host. My body, a remarkable vessel, knows how to operate, heal, and sustain itself. The organs, the bones, every fiber of my being—they all have a purpose and spirit of their own, working tirelessly to keep me alive and functioning. I owe them my gratitude, love, and energy to help them do their jobs more effectively.

I feel encouraged and hopeful. Healing—both mentally and physically—is within my grasp. I have the tools, the insight, and the inner support to rebuild and thrive. My spirits are not just roles or archetypes; they are collaborators in this journey of renewal.

Looking ahead, I feel excited about the possibility of visiting my sister in Vegas for her birthday. Though resources are a concern, the hope of making this trip feels like a goal worth striving toward. It’s a reminder that while I work to restore myself, there are moments of joy and connection waiting to be embraced.

As I close this entry, I feel gratitude for the House of Thomas, for the spirits that support me, and for the journey ahead. This is a time of healing, discovery, and reconnection. Each day, I grow stronger and closer to the person I am meant to be—whole, balanced, and at peace.

Morning of January 15, 2025 (Journal Entry)

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Today has been a good Wednesday for me. I got a good night’s sleep and feel well-rested for the first time in a while. Work has been running smoothly, music is playing, the atmosphere is light, and I even treated myself to a cold brew from Cedar Street Bagel. It’s National Bagel Day, and Kat hooked me up with a spicy jalapeño cream cheese bagel. It’s days like this that make me appreciate the small-town charm of Camas. Being part of this community truly feels like family.

But the day took an unexpected turn.

A few hours into my morning, Carmen, a familiar face in town known for her erratic behavior, approached the Camas-Washougal Chamber of Commerce. Connor, who was there at the conference table studying his EMT schoolwork, had his day abruptly disrupted by one of her random emotional outbursts. She banged on the window with an intensity that startled him and then, without hesitation, flipped him off. It’s a shocking thing to experience, one moment you’re focused on your tasks, and the next, someone’s aggression rattles that calm. It’s hard not to feel unsettled when something like that happens.

Connor shared how jarring the incident was for him. He admitted that it was the first time Carmen had directed her aggression toward him. She’s often referred to him as her “third child” in a warm, albeit odd, way. To see her snap like that felt like a stark reminder of how fragile and unpredictable her mental state can be. We talked about it briefly, and I reminded him that her behavior is not a reflection of us. It’s the result of her struggles, compounded by what I’ve heard might be a long stretch of not taking her medications.

Connor’s discomfort was palpable, and while I reassured him that he’d done nothing wrong, I could see the toll it had taken on him. He’d never experienced her aggression firsthand before, and that kind of sudden hostility can shake anyone. I empathized, as it’s not the first time I’ve heard of her to unravel like this. I’ve always felt a mix of sadness and frustration when it comes to Carmen. Sadness for the spiral she seems trapped in and frustration at the systems and people around her who could step in but don’t seem to.

Connor mentioned he wished the police would do something, maybe arrest her or intervene in some meaningful way. But the reality is, incidents like this often fall into a gray area. Is it assault? Is it just a gesture of frustration? Does it warrant more attention than a shrug and moving on? The answers feel murky. Still, I told him he had my support if he chose to report it. Ultimately, though, Connor had to head to a doctor’s appointment, and the moment passed without further action.

What lingered for me, though, was the emotional weight of the situation. For once, I’d woken up in a good mood this year. I’d felt light, productive, and optimistic. Then came this sharp reminder of the struggles that exist right outside our doors, struggles that we’re often powerless to fix. Carmen’s actions were a stark contrast to the warmth I’d felt earlier in the day at Cedar Street Bagel. It’s hard not to feel the juxtaposition of these moments, the good and the difficult, all swirling together in the same small town.

Still, as the day moves on, I’m holding on to the good parts. National Bagel Day, the spicy jalapeño cream cheese, the music, and the sense of community that remains steadfast despite the challenges we face. Camas, with all its quirks and complexities, continues to feel like home.

Chapter 3: A Beacon of Balance and Ambition

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As the final days of 2024 settle into place, I find myself in a state of equilibrium that has been years in the making. This is my moment of parity, a harmonious balance between past and present, chaos and clarity, action and reflection. It’s a symphony composed not just of my achievements but of the lessons I’ve learned along the way.

Today, December 29, 2024, feels like a punctuation mark at the end of a profound sentence. As the clock ticks toward January 1, 2025, a day that marks both a new year and my nephew’s 25th birthday, I’m reminded of the constants in my life. My nephew, a perpetual cherry atop life’s sundae, is a gift from my sister and her husband, whose kindness to me in adulthood has been a cornerstone of my strength. My intuition, an ever-present guide, has brought me here with humility and gratitude.

I’ve spent much of my life toggling between being the pilot and the engineer of my existence, navigating turbulent skies and methodically fine-tuning the machinery of my aspirations. Today, however, I feel a rare peace, a stillness in the air. My home is nearly immaculate, with just 30 minutes of tidying standing between me and a fully organized space. Yet, it’s not the tasks that weigh on me; it’s the acknowledgment of an unspoken truth. Seth was my steadfast companion in many ways, has drifted into a space where he is no longer an active participant in my opportunities. Though he does not wish failure upon me, the torch of effort is now solely mine to carry.

This realization demands a recalibration of my approach. It’s time to architect a daily schedule that propels me toward a future I can claim with pride. My mornings, from 5 a.m. to 1 p.m., will remain dedicated to the work that has sustained me for over a decade. But my afternoons and evenings, 1 p.m. to 7 p.m., will be a sanctuary for creativity, health, and strategic planning. This regimen, adhered to seven days a week, will build the scaffolding for my next chapter.

My physical health, often placed on the back burner, will now take center stage. A GI appointment must be set to address my lingering concerns, and a renewed commitment to my well-being will serve as the foundation for everything else. My creative outlets, too, must flourish—they are the lifeblood of my spirit. Whether through writing, community building, or the ongoing development of Air in the Middle Solutions, LLC, I will channel my gifts into tangible progress.

As I write this, Enya’s ethereal melodies provide a soundtrack that connects me to my mother, Lynn. Her spirit, steadfast and serene, is a beacon of comfort. My stepfather, Ron, with his heart of gold, stands beside her in my memories, both of them enduring pillars in the ever-shifting sands of my journey. To them, and to myself, I offer this reflection: I am difficult, yes, but difficulty is not a flaw. It is the texture of a life lived authentically. It is the grit that polishes the pearl.

Looking ahead to 2025, I see a path illuminated by both ambition and purpose. Downtown Camas—my small but mighty community—is primed for transformation. With fewer than 30,000 residents, we have the opportunity to redefine what small-town living can mean in the 21st century. Air in the Middle Solutions will spearhead this effort, creating tools that empower administrators and business leaders to thrive in a digital age while preserving the essence of our town’s charm. This is not just a project; it is a calling, a chance to make Camas a beacon for others to follow.

In 350 days, I will turn 50. This milestone, Chapter 3 of my life, is both a culmination and a beginning. As I sit here today, I declare my intention to embrace it with open arms. I will build upon the foundation laid by decades of experience in IT, a career that began when I was just 8 years old. Though there were moments when I wished to step away—most poignantly on December 14, 2000—I now see that every step, even the reluctant ones, has brought me here. To this peace. To this parity. To this persistence.

To my future self, reading this on January 30, 2025, I say: You have succeeded. You have honored your gifts and met the moment with courage. The legend of your map—a constellation pinned with purpose—has become a guide not just for yourself but for others. You have found your balance, your rhythm, your light. And with it, you illuminate the way forward, one step, one breath, one day at a time.

This is not the end. It is merely the next chapter. And it is ours to write.

Individualism – Me, myself, and I

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I appreciate the nuanced approach you’re taking to describe these types of individuals, each with distinct ways of interacting with the world. Let’s go through each of the words and refine the descriptions to make the logic flow better, ensuring that the ideas are clearly conveyed and distinct from each other.

1. Simple:

  • Description: A person who does what is necessary to survive while still finding enjoyment in the present moment.
  • Key Traits: Contentment, practicality, appreciation of simplicity.
  • Focus: Living with minimal needs and maximizing enjoyment from simple pleasures.
  • Refinement: This description is effective in emphasizing that the person lives without unnecessary complications, valuing simplicity as a guiding principle.

2. Simpleton:

  • Description: Someone with a unique focus on one specific experience that brings them joy, often to the exclusion of other things.
  • Key Traits: Singular focus, contentment with the familiar, perhaps perceived as naive.
  • Focus: Immersed deeply in one specific aspect of life, which could be a hobby, passion, or interest.
  • Refinement: The term “simpleton” historically carries negative connotations implying a lack of intelligence. Instead, it might be more helpful to use “single-minded” or “narrow focus” to highlight this quality without the derogatory tone. The idea of being deeply engrossed in one joyful experience could be viewed more positively as passionate or devoted.

3. Humbled:

  • Description: A person who embodies meekness, carrying a warm, grounded presence that resonates with those around them.
  • Key Traits: Modesty, emotional warmth, a calming and comforting presence.
  • Focus: They operate from a place of genuine humility, avoiding arrogance, and emanate an energy that comforts and connects.
  • Refinement: This definition highlights the emotional warmth of the individual, suggesting a sense of balance between self-awareness and compassion. “Humbled” works well here to convey the depth of their gentle character and emotional impact on others.

4. Charismatic:

  • Description: Someone who has learned how to navigate life effectively, treating it almost like a game. They focus on maximizing every opportunity and engagement. However, they often fall into a repetitive cycle, fearing that they are becoming static, unable to break free from what they have become.
  • Key Traits: Social fluency, adaptability, awareness of social dynamics, fear of stagnation.
  • Focus: Maximizing life’s experiences but being at risk of losing authenticity and becoming entrenched in patterns.
  • Refinement: The idea here is intriguing—this person is highly adept at navigating life but fears the confines of their own success. This captures the tension between mastery and the fear of complacency. The use of “charismatic” fits well but might need expansion to clarify the struggle they have with being too defined by their role, which inhibits new experiences.

Summary and Fact-Check of Logic:

  • Logical Flow: Each description represents a different mode of being or operating. The transition from “Simple” to “Charismatic” shows a progression from minimalism to a more complex engagement with the world.
  • Fact-Check and Adjustments:
    • “Simpleton”: Consider an alternative term to avoid negative connotations. You could use “devoted” or “narrow focus” to capture the intent more positively.
    • “Charismatic”: The idea of learning and mastering “the game” of life is compelling, but the description could benefit from emphasizing the tension more explicitly—balancing their charismatic adaptability with the risk of feeling trapped by self-imposed limitations.
  • Emotional and Social Themes: Each archetype embodies a different relationship to joy, fear, and survival. The distinctions are valid and interesting, showing how people can approach life differently based on their values and goals.

Dancing with the Flame: A Reflection on Moments of Light and Shadow

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My therapists encourage me to be fully present, to immerse myself in those fleeting flashes of brilliance. Yet, I’ve learned that for every radiant spark, there’s an equally profound shadow waiting in its wake. This past week has been a test of my ability to navigate both. Moments of pure bliss are often followed by the heaviest darkness, and I’ve come to realize that my spark, which once ignited warmth and light, now feels like it’s fighting to survive in the depths of the shadow it leaves behind.

I’ve been struggling to find my footing in this timeline, feeling out of sync with the rhythm of life for weeks now. It’s as though I’m moving at a slower pace than those around me, a bear trudging through a world that expects the speed of light. Or is it just me, an old soul wandering through a forest of timelines, searching for meaning?

This week, the weight of isolation has been suffocating. I dread the sound of incoming messages or calls. I know they come with good intentions, wanting the best of me. But what they seek is a version of me that feels distant, unreachable. When I am lost in my darkest moments, there is no hand reaches back to pull me up. Instead, I’m reminded that my choices have led me here, as if the weight of my own spark is to blame for the explosion of emotions around me.

My spark is both a gift and a curse. I can light up a room but I can also ignite a toxic kaboom when it meets their toxic gunpowder. They see the aftermath and point to the fire as the cause, forgetting that they, too, played a part in the combustion. In this lucid moment of reflection, I’m learning restraint, learning to hold back, to conserve my energy for when the flame needs to be rekindled. Not every moment requires me to burn at full intensity, and not every spark needs to ignite a wildfire. For now, I sit with the embers, letting them glow softly as I recalibrate. This journey is mine, and I’m slowly finding my rhythm in this dance of light and shadow.

Chapters of Resonance: Embracing Growth and Authenticity

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My therapist has encouraged me to organize my thoughts and memories into chapters, helping me create an index for my life. Right now, I’m in Chapter 2, which spans ages 25 to 50. I turn 49 this year—24 more years than I ever thought I’d see—but here I am, and I’m grateful.

I’ve faced many challenges, countless difficulties. Sometimes it feels like my life is running on empty: mov eax, 0—no experience loaded. Adjusting to synchronicity has been a struggle. I sense so many mental strings waiting to be plucked, each carrying a story that could be heard, shared, and experienced by others. But right now, I feel my focus needs to turn inward, giving my “shell” the attention it requires.

The voice of Thomas is settling into the house of Thomas. I’m adjusting the volume, fine-tuning the levels to make the final stretch of Chapter 2 as harmonious as possible. It’s not beyond my capability. I’ve always discouraged unnecessary curiosity, especially indulgence, in things that don’t serve me. I’m playing by the rules of this game. Others may try to rewrite the code or hack their way through life for personal gain, and that’s fine—everyone has their path. But here, I don’t seek validation or yearn to belong. I ask myself, “Will I fit in? Do I have a place?” It doesn’t matter because I’m here. What matters most is that I get to be my authentic self.

My Superpower

With ASD, ADHD, and dyslexia, I’ve learned to shift my vibrations to either match or harmonize with others. It’s a skill I recently discovered, called empathetic resonance. I need to practice listening with intent. My therapist has helped me realign with my life force, reminding me of the value of this gift: the ability to blend in while staying true to myself.

I don’t always know my role in the grand orchestration of life. Living with duality means I can empathize with and understand the extreme swings in life’s choices. Some choices are ours, while others simply are. Five fingers per hand, not four or six. Two eyes, two ears, one mouth, one brain. And yet, coordinating all those parts into one cohesive “Voltron” of physical self without diminishing others feels like a constant challenge. I don’t want to rise above anyone else. We don’t need to be better than anyone; we just want to be better together. We each contribute our wisdom to the collective pool of knowledge and experiences.

I’ve fallen down many rabbit holes, but tonight, I’m here to make sense of it all. Am I falling behind, or am I racing ahead so quickly that others can’t keep up? Damned if I do, damned for even thinking about it. There’s this shell I want to tear off, but beneath it, there’s only my purest self—no mask, no pretense. I’m just me, short of shaping myself into something more like everyone else.

I often find myself caught between being true to myself and wanting the best for my team, my family, and my loved ones. At times, I feel the need to detach entirely. I help others untangle their aether webs, whether that means offering something as simple as a warm pair of socks or buying an absurd amount of candy for Boo Bash. She absolutely crushed it, and I couldn’t be prouder of her.

But then, there’s this lingering question: How do you explain the struggle in simple terms? Imagine being stuck in a place where you feel dumber than you are, finding comfort in misery because you can’t understand why anyone would choose to live this way. You had every opportunity to help pull me out of the darkness, but you chose to stay where you were, rooted in who you are, not who you could become.

As the holiday season approaches, I wish everyone joy and peace. I need to give my mind and soul the time to heal. Chapter 3 begins in just under a year, and I want to be ready for it.

By the way, trash day is Monday. Happy Holidays, indeed.

Checkpoint: Impacting Other People’s Experience

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In this moment, I cannot experience joy without terror.

It’s a beautiful afternoon here in Camas, WA. I just discovered one more beer after cleaning my fridge. I can go up to my happy place with my beer, my cell phone to listen to music, and soak up some sun. It brings me great joy to a wonderful afternoon.

Alas, my path to bliss is met with dark and terrifying obstacles. I noticed the Airbnb was booked last night. I saw them closing their doors and heard them repeatedly slamming the front door throughout the evening. Maybe they don’t know how doors work, or possibly they just want to make sure it actually closes—I can empathize with that.

My path to joy is a bit of a challenge. I have to pull down the door, pull out the legs to the ladder that leads to the attic, go into the attic to get to the crawl space, to reach the latch that opens the door, to climb the stairs onto the roof with my stuff to arrive at the roof.

What happens if the airbnb visitors see the attic is open and decide to close it?! How am I going to get out of there? Should I leave a note? Do I lean on hope that they are decent, courteous humans who recognize that the attic ladder is down and that someone … me … would be up there? That thought has paralyzed my choice into being only one answer: no, don’t do it!

I’m not looking for answers or suggestions; I’m well aware of all the options. I’m journaling to make note of my awareness of how my soul operates when I’m acutely aware that my actions can negatively impact someone else’s experience.

I am absolutely going forth, experience my happy place, soak in all the sun and joy while sippin on this beer and jammin to music. If it happens to me that I’m met with such a terrifying negative experience, I’ll figure it the fuck out.