This is pretty much it.
Well, this and playing video games. Writing my daily words is the closest thing I have to productivity and while I love each and every one of my readers, there are never going to be very many of them so it’s not that close to productive at all.
I mean, technically, even I don’t read it. I just write it.
I also hang out with my fuzzy friends on Tapestries, which is also marginally productive in that there’s a lot of people there who are happy to see me when I’m around and into whose life I hope I bring a little sunshine.
So I make a few people’s lives better that way too.
And that gives me a model for what a socially functional me would look like. And he’d be a pretty amazing guy, and way more extroverted than the current version of me.
i honestly think that in another timeline, I would have excelled at “personality” jobs like salesman, product rep, or marketing.
Bit late for that now. Though I could still be a very likeable cashier/clerk, like I was when I worked for my late uncle Sonny.
Or a receptionist, I suppose, or any number of sit down office jobs. Any job that does not involve much standing.
I guess if I had a job to do, I’d have to get a wheelchair. My walker would not cut it, because even with it, my travel range is very short.
I mean, going to the back of a Shopper’s Drug Mart and back damn near killed me, and I had a rest in one of their comfy chairs half way through that.
Man that was depressing.
I assume I’d have a lot more range in a wheelchair, especially if it was electric. And with more mobility, I’d have more freedom too.
I might even regain my ability to go places by myself!
Anyhow, where was I? Oh right, what I do with my life.
As little as possible, or so it seems sometime.
And a big part of that comes from that large portion of me that is asleep, and has been asleep ever since I was raped.
And it does not want to wake up. It is completely convinced that the real world means death, and worse than death. Destruction. Annihilation. The end of all ends.
Attached to that is also the deep down fear of overstimulation and overloading and being overwhelmed that I mentioned yesterday.
Just thinking about it makes my social anxiety stir restlessly in its semi-slumber.
And I know that’s crazy. So am I. I know that these fears that hold me down are just phantoms of my unbalanced mind and that very little of the dire consequences to my emotional state it predicts are actually likely to happen.
I mean, maybe I would end up feeling overwhelmed and anxious and lost, like Walter from Fringe in Chinatown. Maybe, like him, I would find myself stranded in the chaos and end up having to call upon the kindness of strangers just to be able to call someone to come rescue me.
I’m mentally ill. My world does not make sense, nor is it justifiable. I am beset by delusions of belief.
Anyhow. maybe I would end up in Anxiety Hell. I can deal with that. I know it will pass if I just let it run its course. There are worse things in life than freaking out.
Plus I have Xanax. Wonderful, soothing, calming Xanax, which appears to make me chemically incapable of anxiety.
I wouldn’t want to take it all the time but now and then it’s great.
So yeah, maybe I would end up totally freaking out. But I have been there before and I survived it. It was really unpleasant but nothing bad happened to me as a result.
So maybe my life is not as proscribed as I thought it was.
Maybe I’m only as limited as I want to be.
Because the truth is, right now, this is all I can handle.
More after the break
Facing the music
So basically, I need to make peace with and prepare for the fact that when I open that door, all the loudness and craziness and overstimulation of the world is going to hit me like a physical force.
So to speak.
At least at first. Like I’ve said before, I will acclimatize to the higher stimulation level if I just hang in there and try not to fight it.
It’s amazing what our greater nervous system can do if we can just get our stupid conscious minds to stop trying to micromanage everything.
Because it doesn’t know what the fuck it’s doing.
I would try it without the Xanax first, whatever it is I choose to make my first foray into the world outside of my grotty little grotto.
It will probably be YouTube. That seems like the next logical step in my progression as a communicator and articulator and, dare I say, pundit.
I really want to be a pundit.
It feels like that’s where I belong. Basically make myself a one man Daily Show, riffing off the news and sharing my unusual views.
I want to be like my (not unqualified) hero, Martin Luther, and be a voice that decries the hypocrisy, bullshit, and willing ignorance of my time and strips all pretense of justification or legitimacy or even morality from the base evils of the world.
And if I could pull that off, people will revere me because I was the one who put what they were feeling into words for them and thus made things so much clearer to them.
And that is when people can act on those feelings. Clarity brings action. Now they know exactly what needs to be done. No hesitation, no doubt.
And it doesn’t matter if I don’t have a format or a focus because the real product is me. My personality, my perspective, my insights, and of course, my hilarious jokes.
Oh and one more thing : my passion.
I shed the light that burns.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.