So like, a reverse Johnny Five.

The outline and details of my massive mental stimulation addiction are becoming clear. And it scares me what a huge and ugly a thing it is when you take a good look at it.

I spend my whole days stuffing my mind with as much stimulation as I can take. And it’s about far more than merely passing the time till I die, which is bad enough.

It’s about actively suppressing my emotions and anxieties with a steady drip of distraction and absorption, letting my mind toys envelop my entire world just to keep me from having to deal with reality or my emotions.

It’s a sick habit, despite its philosophical and creative benefits.

And the worst part of it is, I never give myself down time to finish processing everything I have absorbed. I’m not just constantly stuffing myself, I’m swallowing it all whole without pause and suffering massive intellectual indigestion as a result.

That indigestion is, at least some of the time, called “depression”.

Today was a therapy day, and talking about this idea with my therapist really advanced my thinking on it. It’s all so clear to me now. I have a massive addiction that went unnoticed for so long because, thanks to the Internet, its needs are always met.

I don’t go Jonesing for Internet for very long.

And for the mental stimulation junkie, the Internet is an all you can eat custom buffet. I will never miss a fix. I can always acquire as much mental stimulation as I want at any point in time. That’s especially true for me because I stay home most of the time. My dealer is never more than a WiFi signal away.

Today was an exception. Today was quite busy for me, by my standards, and likewise was rather stressful.

First, I had to go see my GP. I very stupidly kept forgetting to make the appointment and so I ended up running out of all my oral diabetes drugs all at once.

The last full dose of them was Saturday morning. It’s Wednesday today. I went three days sans meds. I… was not well.

In fact, I was clinically diabetic. That means everything was way the fuck out of control. I felt ravenously hungry all the time as my lack of proper insulin response left whatever I ate just sitting outside my cells, waiting to be let in.

Plus, I hardcore craved sweet things. Way back before I was ever diagnosed with diabetes, that was one of the things that tipepd me off that something was seriously awry. I developed this massive sweet tooth, like nothing I had experienced before, and I started to crave sugary things with my entire body.

And I would do highly uncharacteristic things, like buy a box of cookies and eat the whole thing in one sitting. And still want more. It was my body urging me to eat so much sugar that some had to get through.

Now, don’t get my wrong. I enjoyed sweet things as much as the next guy. But I had never had the traditional “sweet tooth”. I never craved sweet things. I just liked them.

So yeah, it sucked to go back to those pre-diagnosis times for a few days. I got my meds now, and hopefully those will put me right in a couple of days.

Back to the GP. Technically, I was late for my appointment, which was at 1:30 pm. I showed up at around 1:45 pm. I underestimated how long it would take me to catch the 405 bus.

But that doesn’t matter in the slightest, because my GP (by the way, did you know Americans don’t call them that? Weird. ) is never ever ever on time.

So despite my lateness, I still had to wait 45 minutes, until 2:30 pm, till I actually saw him. Yup, over an hour late for my appointment. This is sadly typical.

In fact, if he had been much later, I would have been gone already. I had a bus to catch for my therapy appointment!

As is, I didn’t get out of his office till 2:55 pm, and that meant I misses the 405 I should have taken, and had to take the next one. As a result, I ended up arriving at the stop for my therapist’s place at 3:30 pm right on the dot.

That meant that I was going to be late by exactly the length of time it took me to walk from the bus stop to my therapist’s office. Isn’t that special.

It was rough going, as it always is. But it turned out that, by some amazing miracle, it once more didn’t matter, because he was late too. He came out and said “Sorry to keep you waiting, I lost track of time!” and once more, I said “Don’t worry, I only just got here myself!”

The next bit of tension and excitement came when I stood up after the therapy session and got a simply massive head rush. One of the worst I have ever had, and I have had a lot over the years. It felt like my head suddenly filled with hot staticky cotton balls. It was all I could do to stagger down the middle of the hallway (well, it averaged out to the middle) cna get to the public phone to phone Joe.

It eventually calmed down as, I presume, my blood got around to all the right places again, but I still felt pretty wobbly.

It was then that I remember that I hadn’t eaten since I had a light snack at 10:30 am, and that was a very stupid thing to do any time but especially when clinically diabetic.

I am just not fit to care for myself.

I got food at 7-11 eventually, and I more or less back to normal now, apart from some slight dizziness.

But for a while now, I was technically in mortal peril.

Oh well. Tomorrow I will call to make an appointment at a sleep clinic to get myself back on CPAP. I have the money for new shoes. And in September, I go back to school.

Things are looking up!

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.