Still no word from the doctor’s office. I am probably going to call later today. I really want to know what the ever loving fuck is wrong with me.
Haven’t had any more big chills, knock on metaphorical wood. But I can see now that I have been experiencing petit mal versions of it ever since this whole thing started, I I just chalked them up to there being a draft or something.
Now I know better, and will be watching for more of them.
But not too closely. The last thing I need right now is to trigger my hypochondria.
Step by step, day by day, ;line by line.
Anyhow, here’s a video I have been watching.
I love that particular subject because, for a guy who does not believe in magic and considers himself a rational materialist, I have surprisingly strong intuition.
Hence the N in INTJ.
For all of my life, I have gotten “feelings” about people and places. I am quite sensitive to what are generally known as “vibes” and I trust my intuition on most things.
The difference between me and some New Age woowoo type person is that I don’t think any of it has anything to do with mysticism or religion or “the other side”. I don’t think I am picking up any special sort of energy (except, perhaps, electromagnetism), I don’t believe in past lives, and I definitely don’t think I am tapping into the cosmic umwelt.
My intuition, in my view, is simply the product of my unconscious mind processing and integrating information on a far, far deeper and more complex level than my conscious mind could ever hope for, and then outputting the result directly into my consciousness.
I can almost always examine the intuition and figure out what went into it on a conscious level and hence verify it.
This verification then guides the next thing I ask my subconscious mind to work on, and so forth and so on, reason and intuition working hand in hand.
Seems to work quite well, in my experience.
I suppose that my openness to my own intuition might also explain why I have never felt there was any conflict between my creativity and my scientific and logical rigor.
To me, they are the same thing, probably because they are both very “me”. I recognize that, at least on paper, my intensely analytical side and my creative, wacky side are different parts of me, but they work together so closely that the distinction between the two seems academic at best.
Usually with me, intuition leads and reason follows. That’s as it should be as our unconscious mind is far more powerful than our conscious minds.
In fact, I have often said that the conscious mind is merely the interface through which we access and use the subconscious mind.
So it’s almost like my subconscious mind is some kind of enigmatic deity and my conscious mind is the priest class dedicated to interpreting its mutterings.
I find that idea rather pleasing.
And rather humorous too, come to think of it.
I picture my deity as being an eagle-headed Egyptian style god with a forked tongue like a snake and gesturing mysteriously as it intones its declarations in a deep monotone.
Deity : The false shadows of the noontime apocalypse conceal nothing but the doom that devours all the serpents of the hollow moon in France.
Couple : What does that mean?
Priest : It’s a boy!
Couple cheers and celebrates.
That was fun to write. I should vent my weirdness directly onto the page more often.
More after the break.
The beginning of the end
I feel tired and sick and cold and slightly bruised all over. My joints are stiff and my head hurts and I get random stabbing pains in my feet.
I, as my Dad would say, am one hurtin’ unit, and it has me thinking morbid thoughts.
Because this could be it, you know. The beginning of the end. I might have taken my first step onto the slip n’ slide that ends in my sloppy and pathetic death.
And along the way, my life will just get worse and worse as my health issues gang up on me and I end up in the hospital, full of tubes and unable to move and completely and helplessly miserable for the rest of my days.
I don’t want to go there.
But I doubt I will be able to prevent it, either.
Oh, there might be the occasional good period. Times when I am home and relatively healthy and taking care of myself properly because I have the memory of my most recent battle with illness to keep me motivated to improve.
But it won’t last. It never does. And the minute my determination falters, I will slip back into the old unhealthy patterns again, and before you know it, I am back at square 1.
Actually, make that square -1, because I will be worse off than before.
I wish there was somewhere I could go where they rigidly control my diet and make me exercise (or at least, make it worth my while to exercise) and basically take my freedom away until such time as I am strong enough to take care of myself on my own.
Because it’s clear to me that I can’t do it. There is something very broken inside me that makes seemingly easy things impossible for me to do. There is a great and terrible sea of sadness within me and all my motivations drown there.
I try to motivate myself and instead of inspiration I get cold wet paralysis that makes me feel like part of my brain has frozen in place. And it won’t unfreeze till I give up trying to force the issue of my motivation.
I am dead on the inside, patient readers.
And soon, I may die of it.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.