That’s how I feel right about now. Cranky.
Partly that’s because it’s 6:20 pm and I am only getting around to eating “lunch” now.
First I got too deeply enmeshed in my game of Baldur’s Gate 3 and when I finally thought to check the time, it was 4:20 pm.
And I would have immediately procured my lunch and set my ass to bloggin’ but I realized that after all that gaming I was very tired, and so I had to take a nap.
Woke up at around 5:30 pm. Took me till 5:50 pm just to get out of bed, because that’s become a thing again lately.
Just sittin on the edge of my bed
Watching my soul fill with dread
Sittin on the edge of my bed
Wastin’ time, ah-ah-ah-ime.
Also, in addition to my more customary forms of domestic agony (sore muscles, sinus pain, existential dread so thick you could spread it on toast) my back has also been hurting lately, and that’s always very distressing.
There’s no pain like back pain. It’s so alarming when you try to stand up and end up sitting right the fuck back down due to back pain bad enough to make you cry out.
I have been attempting my own brand of “auto-chiropractor” treatments where I push down on my spine in order to straighten it out, and it helps, but if this keeps on like this I will have to see Doctor Chao about it.
Ironically, I have a phone appointment with him between 3 pm and 5 pm tomorrow to talk about how it’s been over a year since my legs stopped working, and we still don’t know WTF is up with that.
But back pain is not an over the phone diagnosis type of thing, so that will have to wait until some as yet unbooked future in-office appointment.
Besides, my muscular atrophy has to take priority.
Another thing cranking me up is an upsurge in frustration with my stupid fucking life. God, can this really be all there is for me? Video games, blogging, and decay?
I have so much incredible potential rotting on the vines of my soul’s orchard because I am too weak to grab a stepladder and go out there and pluck it.
If something does not change soon, I will miss the bus on life entirely. I will go to my grave without ever having come within hailing distance of being an adult, and everything I ever was or ever was going to be will get poured down the drain like a rummy’s second last bottle of booze right before the AA meeting.
It will be one hell of a tragedy. That’s what they will say at my sparsely attended funeral. His death was so tragic and he died so young, and he was such an amazing guy.
Too bad he could not heal that terrible pain he felt deep down in time for him to do any of the things he kept telling himself he would do “eventually”.
But eventually never comes.
More after the break.
Pain = Crank, part 2 : the Crankening
God dammit, this back pain is pissing me off.
I don’t think it’s indigestion related, like so much of my back pain. This stuff is too high on my back for it to be caused by IBS cramping or the like.
I’m also very sleepy. Apparently the nap I took after “lunch” only whetted my brain’s appetite for downtime, so now I feel like I need to nap like Rip Van Winkle.
Only not as folksy.
As a result, the words are coming very slow for me at the moment. Which sucks because the sooner I finish today’s word, the sooner I can go back to sleep.
Damn do I miss caffeine. Maybe if the results of that blood pressure monitor thing I did several forevers ago say my blood pressure is normal now,I can gently re-introduce caffeine to my life as a “sometimes” thing.
Like when I am falling asleep when need to make the words, for example.
Back in the good old days when I dranke 2L of Diet Coke a day (half with lunch and half with dinner), in my mind it was loosely tied to blogging. I “needed” the caffeine in order to be bright and focused when I write.
But now I have to manage without caffeine and it sucks. The rest of the world gets to use and abuse the world’s most popular stimulant as they feel fit, why not me?
Oh right. Because life hates me.
Everything I do hurts. And of course, I keep having to yank my awareness back to the screen and the keyboard like they’re errant dogs and I am pulling on the leash.
All of this crap has me in a pretty black mood. I don’t want to be awake. I donb’t wanbt to be typing. I don’t want to have to make the words happen. I don’t want to have to think of things to say.
Hell, I don’t even want to need to be vertical right now.
I want to be horizontal and covered in my comforter and deep, deep asleep.
I don’t wanna deal with reality at all.
Then again. I never do. Not really. My whole life is structured around keeping the amount of time I have to spend dealing directly with reality to the absolute minimum I can get away with without qualifying as catatonic.
“So what’s wrong, Doctor? Is Fruvous brain dead?!?”
“No, as far as we can tell, he just stopped coping. ”
And considering how badly I coped with life, it’s no great loss.
And I know that my extreme withdrawal from the world is all wrong and that if I want to ever be mentally well I need to be going in the opposite direction.
I need to be crawling up out of this pit, not wallowing deeper into it.
But the pain makes that impossible. And I don’t know what to do about that.
Will myself to heal, I guess.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.