Ludlum meets Suzanne Collins.
My appetite has been quite random lately and it’s really getting on my nerves. I go from very hungry to mild negative appetite (food seems gross) in a matter of half an hour or less, and always at the worst possible time.
Which leads to such damnable perversity as having no desire to eat, then forcing myself to eat, then half an hour later being SUPER FRIGGING HUNGRY.
And that’s just so….ARGH. Like my stomach said, “Forcing me to eat? Well then the famine must be over, TIME TO FEAST!”.
And I’m like, “I just wanna eat, man. “
Plus my keyboard’s spacebar’s action had gotten rather stiff. I have to press it rather hard in order to get a space, and even then, it doesn’t always work.
So that is pretty irritating too.
Other than that, things are going okay. Taking an Alprazolam before bed yesterday was quite effective in clearing the sleep blockage I was experiencing. Got lots of decent quality sleep yesterday.
Decided not to take another this morning. I will hold off and keep a close eye on my sleep quality and quantity (sleep efficiency?) and take another when I feel like I need to thaw out my tired brain again.
I like the effect more than I did with Lora Ze Pam, too. With Lora, it felt like part of my mind went stiff and numb, and I did not care for that at all.
My mind is already way more stiff and cold and numb than is good for me. The last thing I need is something that furthers that effect.
Al Prazolam, on the other hand, made my mind feel genuinely warm and relaxed. Like the best part of being drunk. And that is way more my speed.
I need something that helps mellow out the harshness, man. And my pal Al will do at least until I finally buy me some CBD (the relaxing part of pot) products.
I have neither desire nor use for the hallucinogenic buzz of THC. I find sensory effect of pot to be interesting for a little while then actively irritating.
I’d probably find it irritating right away if the CBD wasn’t mellowing me out at the same time, to be honest.
Thursday night’s very low key New Years Eve celebration went fine. After flitting about for a while (which I haaaaate) we settled on the celebration with two people we like, Community alums Joel McHale and Ken Jeong.
Kind of disturbing how good Doctor Jeong has gotten at being all unctuous and fawning like the other network personalities. He ended up doing most of the talking, ick. But at least that meant Joel could stay cool and just throw in the occasional hilariously acerbic comment now and then.
Sometimes they would cut to Kelly Osbourne (Ozzy’s kid), and she was all fake and syrupy too, which was even more depressing.
But then she let a “fucking” (bleeped of course) slip out, and that made me feel a whole lot better about the world.
She’s still an Osbourne after all.
More after the break.
Rain, rain, rain
That song has a healthy attitude towards depression.
Anyhow, feeling kind of sick right now. Might be coming down with something.
Or maybe it’s just my sinuses. Who knows.
I just know I feel rather crappy right now. I laid down for a snooze and when I woke up, my chest felt heavy and scratchy, my head hurt, I felt nauseous and disoriented, and I felt like someone turned up both the gravity and the air pressure.
It’s Covid! screams my latent hypochondria. I’m gonna end up in the hospital full of tubes and end up dying alone! AAAAAAAAGH!
Yeah yeah, whatever. You say that about everything. Your panic burned through all its credibility a long long time ago.
Now, you’re just a tiresome voice from the back closets of my mind.
Now if only I could do the same thing with my social anxiety.
Well, what led to my overcoming my hypochondria 25 years ago?
Getting well and truly sick of its bullshit, basically. Getting mad enough to make me grimly determined to claw my way out of the deep dark hole I had fallen into where I was malnourished, dehydrated, and otherwise very physically fucked up.
Seems like a hundred lifetimes ago now. I can barely recognize the person I was back then. I have come so far since then.
And yet, I would swap places with that version of me in a heartbeat if it meant I got to be 22 again, knowing what I know now.
For one thing, I would get my depression treated right away. Back then I had no idea what I had. I thought I just kinda…. sucked.
Not sure what treatment options there were in 1995. Prozac, I assume. And some of the other early SSRIs.
No therapy, though. Not back then, not on PEI. Hmmmm. Guess I would have to claw to somehow find that too.
And try to get my ass some kind of job.
After all, I am going to need seed money to start my investment firm.
Because what’s the point of traveling back in time if you are not going to get rich exploiting your knowledge of the future?
Some Apple stock here, some Microsoft stock there, Google and YouTube and Netflix when they come around.
With the money I made that way, I could go to whatever goddamned university I wanted. Any place that would have me, and because I would be a rich genius, that would be a lot of places.
Then again, if I am rich, why bother? I could go straight to my dream of being a jet setting intellectual who spends all his time at conferences, symposia, conventions, and other big brain type events all over the world.
I could even get in on the ground floor of the Ted talks.
Being a Ted speaker is my dream, after all.
Of course…. I could do some of that right now. Like getting a job. Freelancing.
But that has to wait until I am healthy enough,
Or does it?
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow,