I’d call it “bluesy country/rock” myself, but that’s just me.
Thought I was over this whole flu thing, but getting up and moving around then sitting back down again seems to have woken it from its remission.
So, yay that.
The worst part has become the brain fog.
Actually I always have brain fog. It’s part of my depression.
But the flu has made it a lot worse. I keep making all these little mental errors that individually only amount to my usual state of befuddlement but taken as a whole are coming at such a high rate that it has me worried.
I have been worried about the state of my brain in general lately, even before this goddamned flu showed up.
I keep having these bad moments where I either say or think the entirely wrong word from what I intended and, worse still, it takes a moment and a significant mental effort to force myself to remember what the right word is.
And that freaks me the fuck out. Because I can’t lose my words, man. They are all I got.
And I don’t want to end up some spastic goober tucked away in some back ward and left to rot as I twitch and flail and moan as I desperately attempt to speak but all that comes out is a series of strangulated half-phonemes.
So I had better get my poop in a group and start taking better care of myself, starting with finally making an appointment to see my GP, Doctor Chao.
Please, Whoever, don’t let these brain issues be permanent. Or get worse.
More after the break.
Someone I can depend on
Being someone I can depend on is not an easy gig.
Because I have no faith in people. I automatically (and involuntarily) assume that people will abandon me the moment they get tire it’s d of me and come to their senses and realize how gag inducingly horrible I am then run away screaming.
So even with people who have given me every reason in the world to trust them, I always have one foot partially out the door, ready to bolt and return to the safety of my lair when people give up on me.
All because of some very old tapes playing in my head.
Because that is what happened to me. I have been abandoned in so many ways and by so many people on so many levels in my life that my ability to trust people to be there when I need them has been shot to pieces.
Take Joe. (Wait no, don’t. I need him.)
If there is one person on Earth whom I trust deeply and implicitly, it’s Joseph P. Devoy. He has been nothing but an awesome and dependable friend and roommate to me for well over a decade and everything I know about him tells me that he is a rock and a saint and just plain good people.
Yet even with him, I am never fully present. Those old tapes insist that even he will abandon me if I become too burdensome or annoying.
That part of me makes me always hold back and not fully engage with people, even those closest to me. And I think people can tell.
And that’s why I have such a hard time connecting with people. As much as my positive side wants to be friendly and gregarious like a waggy tailed dog., my fascist security state makes me pull back and keep to myself.
So in any given social setting, I am always precariously balanced between the urge to be friendly and warm and the urge to scream and run away/
Hence, social anxiety.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go play video games so I can be in a place where nobody can hurt me or reject me.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.