Took the pill this morning at around 8:45 am. Woke up at 1:30 pm, roughly 15 minutes ago, feeling terrible. Very sleepy and groggy and foggy and crappy.
Must remind myself that this doesn’t mean taking the pill was a bad idea, event though right now, it feels like I am being punished for it.
It just means I really needed the better sleep, I tell myself. Once i am done eating I will go back to sleep and probably wake up feeling a lot better.
Atleast I hope that’s what will happen, as feeling like I feel now suuucks.
I am certainly not going to make it to 500 words. 250 if I am lucky. The words are coming pretty hard now and I doubt I have very many in me at the moment.
Which is why I am writing nonsense, I suppose. Stuff patient readers have seen many many times before. Inane and trite.
In fact, I considered not blogging at all right now and punting the task to when I am more awake, but I am too tired to eat without blogging.
The two are deeply connected in my mind.
Well I am done eating. Time to make some Z’s.
Later that same day
It’s 8:03 pm and I have sushi on the way. Time to get my ass to bloggin’.
Installed a mod called The People Of Skyrim. I was browsing mods and came across this lunatic thing, and while I dithered about it for half a day, in the end I knew I had to try it because it was such a crazy idea.
Basically, it adds more stuff to everything everywhere. The mod author(s) must have had some serious ambition burning because this had to have been a lot of work. The whole map of Skyrim, both inside themajor cities and out, has new locations, buildings paths, spells, artifacts,weapons, armor, and litlle pink critters that go BOOP in it.
I’ve only dipped my pinky toe in it so far because I wanted to finish Dawnguard first, but from what I have seen, it basically doubles the amount of content in the game. In other words, it adds as much content as the original game had.
Should be a lot of fun.
Not without cost, though, as it’s also much tougher. There’s monster encounters everywhere. Journeys that would have been a mere bucolic stroll are now pitched battles against numerous nasty foes.
Works for me. I’ve been wanting to make things harder on myself in a fun way for a while. I can deal with this just fine.
Besides, I have gotten crazy good with the fire magic. So much so that I go around saying this in my head when I win :
I’m such a pyro.
But in my defense, I have tried the other two kinds of offensive magic, lightning and ice, and they are not as fun.
Lightning magic is weirdly hard to aim, and ice magic is just, well….boring.
So fire magic it is for me. We don’t need no water, let the motherfuckers burn!
More after the break
It’s all I ever do
Another old bone – my video game addiction.
I can’t decide how much of a problem it is because I can’t trust my emotional evaluation of anything anymore.
Patient readers know the tune here. On the one hand, I could view it as a serious crisis and take all available action to fix it and really go for it.
After all, here I am, brain the size of a planet, and with megawatt talents to boot, and I waste my life away playing video games all day.
And I mean all day. If I am awake, fed, and not in the bathroom, I am playing games. It metastasized from a hobby to that deadliest of things, an all-consuming way to self-medicated, round about when I first fell into the Skyrim hole.
And I am still in that hole, more or less. Sure, I stopped playing Skyrim for three or four years, but Skyrim itself was never the real problem.
The addiction was the problem. Skyrim was merely the gateway drug.
So ever since then, I have been a victim of my own coping mechanism, a fate familiar to all depressives in one form or another.
When I am gaming, I feel safe. I’m relaxed. I get to be in my own little world in which I am very comfortable and where pain and confusion and anxiety can’t get me.
And I never want to leave it. It is my refuge from all my problems, and when one of your problems is depression, any kind of refuge from the war within is precious beyond compare and clung to like a shipwreck survivor clings to a floating door.
There was totally room on that door, Rose.
Anyhow, logically, a case could be made for a full bore attempt to rescue myself from my tragic fate and get myself to somewhere where all my powers can be put to good use, preferably in a way that lets me make a living at it.
And it wouldn’t take much. I would be happy with my current $1500/month lifestyle if I was actually earning it.
That would make such a huge difference.
But here’s the thing : if it’s a crisis, that creates pressure, and that pressure easily turns into anxiety, and that anxiety could well drive me inane(r),.
On the other hand, there’s the “stay mellow and grow” approach, where I tell myself that treating it like a crisis can only backfire and my best bet is to relax, do whatever seems right, and concentrate on growing and healing and doing what promotes them.
After all, I am a very sick man, and that’s what you are supposed to do when you are sick : concentrate on getting better.
The fact that I have been sick for almost my entire adult life doesn’t change that.
And yet I have these latent energies desperate to be expressed and the only way they can be expressed is by leaving my cozy cocoon and on some level going out into the world and exploring my options.
Even if I only do it online.
So I don’t know. Somehow, I have to find the middle ground between the mellow and the ambitious. Some way to be both relaxed and bold, comfortable and courageous, at one with the cosmos and desperately trying to find my place in it.
Because I do have a place in it. Despite what the bad tapes in my head tell me.
And some day, I will find it.