I’m not sick, but I’m not well

Actually, I am sick, but I couldn’t think of a song that said that.

At least I feel better than I did yesterday. That’s not saying a lot,. but it’s something, anyway. I still feel panicky and toxic and stupid and worthless and wrong.

But, ya know. Less so.

This too shall pass. Hopefully soon, but whatever. I have that feeling that something toxic is making its way through me that I get from time to time. And based on that, I know how I feel now will pass quite literally.

As in, out of my body.

Via my poop chute.

In the form of poop.

And now you know.

So I will feel better eventually.

Driving myself crazy over trying to figure out what I want for Xmas. And I know that’s the wrong approach. I should be doing the opposite, namely relaxing about the whole thing and lettign ideas come to me.

That might not work, though, because fundamentally, I don’t have the slightest idea what I want, period.

Of course, if this was Boxing Day, I would suddenly have a zillion ideas that are TOTALLY obvious and perfect and I can’t believe I didn’t think of them when I had the opportunity because they are things I have been longing for ALL YEAR.

But that’s just how things go around here.

It’s the same sort of metnal logjam that I imagine happens to those people who study hard for the exam only to have it all disappear from their mind like water down the drain when the exam is in front of them.

I’ve never had that problem. I test well. I sympathize though. That must be hell.

And it happens to me, as I have mentioned, just not with exams. It happens with anything with a high option paralysis potential, like deciding what I want for Xmas or my birthday or even jjust to buy for myself.

And it’s easy to say it’s all about the Hall of Inifinite Doors, where there are simply too many options for me to process either rationally or intuitively and so my mind just freezes up like a world-running computer that just lost a logic fight to Captain Kirk.

And that is definitely a large part of it. But there’s a lot more to it than that.

For one thing, there’s the stakes. Which are largely imaginary. The situatio would nbot be nearly as stressful if I did not feel so much pressure to get it “right”.

It’s that drive to be “smart” and have the “right” answer at work again. And it’s backed up by experience. I know that if I choose A and then, once it’s too late, realized that B was obviously way, way better. I will feel like an idiot and beat myuself up for being so stupid when if I had just thought about it for two seconds…

But I couldn’t think about it. Because my mind was all frozen up on the subject.

So I should forgive myself and move on, right?

My mind knows no such mercy

In fact, I feel like my recent resurgance in self-loathing is at least partially a result of having successfully held my demons back for a long time without actually attacking the root of the problem, and that meant it just kept building up behind the barriers in my mind until the dam broke and I got drowned in a huge flood of it.

So clearly that doesn’t work too well.

Blocking the emotion is not enough, and is bound to fail in the long run. The only way to solve the root problem is to roll up my pant legs and wade into the quigmire of my subconscious mind and try to figure out where this all comes from.

I’m tempted to be flippant and say “bad brain chemicals. duh. ” And it does feel like that some of the time. Like I end up feeling how I feel because it’s the only way to feel given my brain chemistry issues, and everything I do to explain the pain is really just a rationalization to cover that harsh truth,

But it is, of course, a lot more complicated than that.

Because those bad chemicals come from somewhere. They come from the psychological traumae of my early  childhood that my young brain simply could not handle or heal and so they became a part of the very foundation of my mind.

That means fixing them is going to be quite tricky. It’s like trying to repair a load-bearing wall. It’s vitally important that it be done, or the whole house will fall down. But anything you do to fix it might also bring down the house. so to speak.

So how do you fix those bad, crumbling bricks?

Very, very carefully.

I feel like I am at that point of insanity right now. The point where I can see how crazy my thoughts are and how far from reality I have drifted, and yet, the craziness remains.

And I can see it very clearly. It’s quite ugly. Like something you would find in the garbage behind a cut-rate forensics lab.

There’s never an auto-cleaning autoclave around when you need one.

This is the point where I can truly feel my insanity. IT is therefore also the point at which I feel truly insane. When the madness has me in its grips and I feel like it is all true, I don’t have this problem.

And when I am healthy, I don’t even think my mental illness. It all seems so remote that it is easy to imagine that it was all a nightmare and now I am awake and it will never ever happen again.

But of course, it will.

So it’s only in these between times when I can feel how crazy I am and it’s hard not to let that get to me.

Maybe that’s why psychotics go off their meds so often.

They often blame the side effects of their meds.

But the truth ius that life is easier when you are too crazy to know how crazy you are.

Reality is so hard.

Sometimes I wish I never had to come back to it.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.