God damn it.

My fucking internet died for the second time today. I don’t know WTF is happening but it need to stop. It happened just as I was sitting down to blog, you know, for extra pain and suffering, and so now I am stuck typing into an Office Libra (or whatever) file and cursing fate.

Now I am too angry to post a link to my video about irritability!

Seriously, that’s what today’s vid is about. Done on the webcam attached to my PC this time, as I intimated yesterday, and this very slightly edited.

Hmmm. Forgot to put the “like and subscribe” bit on the end. Oh well, whatever.

What really sucks is that normally I am hanging out with my fuzzy friends on Tapestries when I do my blogging and with no internet I can’t do that and I miss them.

It’s not an accident that I ended up talking about irritability today. Not only is it a subject close to my personal history but I have been feeling aglow with sheer crankiness today, largely because my right foot has gone from hurting on the sole from the damage I did with my zeal to peel the un-shed skin off to now hurting in the bones and muscles of the foot as there seems to be something very “off” about the way the pain of the injuries to the sole has been making me walk and now I am walking around feeling like my ankle is half sprained already and feeling the muscles and bones shift around in gruesome and unnatural ways as I walk.

I need one of those floating wheelchairs Baron Harkonnen has in Dune.

Or a splint or the like. Something to hold the ankle in place while the foot heals so that my foot doesn’t twist out from under me when I walk, so that I end up walking on the side of the foot.

That’s not right.

So that pain had me feeling snappish and irritable before the internet died and so that is how I ended up delving into that subject in the vid.

Because as us chronic illness sufferers know, there’s the physical pain, which is bad, but then there’s the effect it has on your mood and your outlook, which is worse.

Not only can I clearly feel the walk-sprained condition of my ankle even when I am not putting any weight on the foot in question, but the prospect of being even more crippled than usual as well as the certainty of more pain in my near future as I navigate my day (meals, bathroom breaks, water refills, bookcase trips, and so on) does not exactly put me in a bright, sunshiny mood.

I have Tylenol now. Ordered it off of Amazon. Yes, I know I am a bad boy for putting more moneyin Jeff Bezos’ pocket and I don’t care.

Point is, I can treat the pain somewhat. Well, I can turn down the volume on it anyhow. Yay analgesics.

But I am really, really worried about what is happening with my right foot. I can’t quite put into words how “wrong” it feels when I walk on it. And the way my ankle is just not doing its job and that leaves the whole foot to twist in a very bad way.

I am worried that I will end up seriously hurting that foot or even that leg.

Well, I have Wound Care tomorrow so I will see if the nurse can rig me up something to make walking less of a body trauma.

I don’t even care about the cuts on the sole any more. They’ll be fine.

More after the break.

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The return of the King

Got my internet back, so hooray for that.

In desperation I was futzing with my wifi antennae, just kinda wiggling it in its weird socket ^[1], when Windows made its “a device has connected” sound and I said, “That sounds good!” and rebooted, and here we are.

I will try to make sure nothing so much as breathes in that thing’s direction again.

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Always wandering lost

But I no longer thing I am looking for a way out. A way out of what? There’s nothing really here in my mindscape except for the kind of fog that you can’t see when it’s right in front of you but can see when you look further away.

Not that I know what THAT means.

But I am not looking for a door out of this “maze” any more. I know that all this hazy bullshit will burn away like a morning fog when I am finally truly ready to go out there and face that big old world.

I know this because I know that the fog’s real purpose has always been to hide reality from me so that I don’t get overwhelmed. I have been fighting reality since I was raped when I was four, and this fog – or maze, or castle, or infinite corridor, or whatever – is my way to shrink the aperture through which reality enters my mind to a manageable size.

And by “manageable” I mean “really very small and narrow and mostly virtual”.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s amazing how much I perceive through that little hole. Thanks to the internet and mass media in general, I can not only learn about the world, I can deduce its deeper patterns and meanings with my supercomputer brain.

But who cares? I’m still locked away in here, scared of the world and convinced, despite all evidence, that the “real world” will eat me alive because it’s out to GET me.

That’s all bullshit and lies, of course, but that’s what makes this mental illness – knowing something is not true and being unable to stop believing it anyway.

The belief expresses something in me that desperately needs it and until I find that something and give it a better way out, the belief will return like plants coming back after a forest fire.

And I am still figuring out how to deal with shit like that.

I’m working on it.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.