The Culture that has been here all the time

Hello Friends,

People have told me about "Kinkatopia," but no one knows where it is. Is it in a mountain valley like Shangrela?

It took less-than-perfect circumstances to bring me to a nice area of Pennsylvania, and it is more affordable than New Jersey, my native State. However, in my current situation, I relied on the risky business of seeking friends online, and it wasn't always a good experience.

People tell me about wonderful open spaces and a better life with natural settings, which is my preference, but though affordable, my finances won't support another move. (Three moves in the last three years have drained my finances, along with dubious choices that I have made.)

Now I am confronted by my old dreams when my wife and I sought to buy a new home in Maine, North Carolina, and Montana.

I heard that somewhere in a valley within the Rocky Mountains is a place called "Kinkatopia." Many kinksters are there and have searched in vain for this place. They say it is a small city with high mountains all around, and the peculiar aspect is that it can not be seen by aircraft or satellites. Locks and money are never needed; everyone there is honest and perfect as friends. They say clothes are optional, and all the people's needs come from the proceeds of a mine where many precious stones can be harvested. 

The Moody Blues band recorded a song about this place:

Hello Friends,

I have lived long enough and have experienced so many challenges that on a sad day like today I repeat this as a mantra:

"This too shall pass" is a Persian adage that conveys the idea that life is impermanent and nothing lasts forever

Beginnings are so great, but many endings are not.

Friends, I want to take a moment to honor my High School friend who served in the Marine Core during Vietnam and died in 1968 during the Battle of Khe Sanh. Westly White was a great athlete and a great person who was selfless and died for all of us in the defense of our country and his comrades. Let us not forget why we have Memorial Day.

He's on the Wall and the NJ Memorial et al:

Friends, I now know who or what I am: I am strictly a caregiver for my wife. I am neither a Dom nor a Sub, just a blank* with my job to do as something almost like a male nurse. 

Fun and happiness are not in my vocabulary. I have no activities that give me respite. A little TV, a plant or two, some music, and a little time with my pets have value, but that is all.

Each day, I live in the past and see nothing in my future.

Acceptance has taken a long time, with harsh lessons learned along the way.

I will look into a form of senior housing on Tuesday where I can move with my wife on one floor and a minimum of house and yard work. During the VA Share Group meeting, I heard fellow caregivers refer to a VA option for housing (I'll see).

*

Hello Friends,

As I renew my dedication to caring for my wife, mostly alone, I have selected a project to keep me occupied and away from controversial situations: Write a book about a future milieu centered on high tech, including humanity's reliance on Artificial Intelligence (AI). I haven't given up on my new song project; it is just not easy to have a quiet situation for recording the new songs.

There is a YouTube video about the coming of AI Sexbots that is especially interesting and you may like to watch it.

Friends, our grandson Kieth is on his way to help me adjust to a new outlook. He will be here tomorrow, along with my brother JWH III.

I will no longer seek a helper for my caregiving of my wife. Jim

Since the trial run didn't work, I also am informing Berks County Agency on Aging since I will need their advice and help.

I have been warned every day since I became my wife's only caregiver to be careful that I do not trade my situation (the devil I know) for a situation that is a devil I do not know.

I am starting all over as the sole caregiver for my wife.

Dear Friends,

I have thought carefully about something to look forward to. The house we had at the "Jersy Shore" for many years had several rooms, an attic, and a garage, but no basement because of the threat of the rising sea level. Super Storm Sandy almost got the house, but the damage was limited to under (raised 1 meter), some roof blew off, and (unfortunately) everything was just about lost in the garage. Worst of all were my expensive telescopes. (Note the house we owned before Sandy washed away.)

Gardening was a challenge, but I managed to have a good vegetable and flower garden for several years. It was on an island surrounded by Great Bay and wetlands, with only one bridge to get on and off. Superstorm Sandy has given me many anecdotes, but here is the thought I hang on to now.

I had a digital recording studio and an art studio. From the moment my wife was diagnosed with early-onset dementia in 2017 , the art and music rooms became idle.

My new hope? I hope that one day, I will have a digital recording studio and an art studio once again. I have much of the material and supplies in storage. This home is too small (easier to manage as a caregiver), so I will need a different home for this dream.

Something else: Maybe my estranged children will get past the negativity about their stepmom's illness and her children and grandchildren likewise. I now realize it is probably easier for them not to see her in her current state and increasing decline. It hasn't been easy for me.

My current helper fulfills the needs of so many absent helpers, and I am not always able to juggle the needs of her and my wife. I know I am not a good prospect for any possible romantic relationship. Maybe after I heal from the inevitable loss of my wife, I will recover sufficiently to be a better prospect for someone's significant other.

Still, I have a realistic glimmer of hope now. Jim

Hello Freinds,

Despite trials and tribulations, I feel pretty good and functioning well. Thank You, my doctors, for doing good work. 

Perhaps I can find my way to enjoy life if given that opportunity. The caregiving status quo still beats me down, even with some help. I don't want to go back to old bad habits to feel good (get high; it took a great effort to beat off that demon). In retrospect, when the family was alive and well, we took for granted dances, picnics, dinners, holidays, and birthday celebrations. Now, in a great estrangement, it is just memories (rifts between and loss of people):

"… Those were the days, my friend
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose…"

Hello, Friends (acquaintances, actually),

I am thick-headed, soft-hearted, and don't think correctly too often. Since my wife has Alzheimer's/Dementia/Aphasia, family, church friends, and friends disengaged with us and in frantic, ill-conceived attempts to get help and companionship and even a sexual relationship (outside marriage) have taken me down a path filled with mistakes, vulnerable to scammers, and desperate to try anything to get help that I now realize is an exercise in futility.

I now understand that if family, church friends, and friends left my wife's care up to me alone, I could not expect strangers (even paid people) to do the same level of care I can only give her. My state or condition is irrelevant; she is the only one who counts. Thirty-nine years of a monogamous good marriage deserves my care for her. I simply must. I must do better and not allow my needs and wants to interfere with her care.

I see I am not a master, not even a piss-poor Dom; I am just a man in one of life's tests and struggles. I may have experienced true happiness for about six years out of my seventy-six-plus years of existence. The obstacle to my true, long-lasting happiness? ME.

Unless you are in my shoes, you can not know what this life is like for me.