Warning, this will involve poop and pooping.

So this morning, I defecated. Perfectly normal operation, no complications. Bombs away. Was quite sure I had emptied myself out.

But then as I rose, the strangest sensation passed through me. It felt like the entire contents of my digestive system had suddenly petrified. I went from feeling almost empty to feeling massively full in the space of a second, maybe less.

So now I was dealing with a gut full of wet cement. It’s a very uncomfortable feeling and immediately killed my appetite and my ability to sleep. Even just lying down felt weird, like my organs weren’t in their usual positions.

Would not recommend.

Since then, I have managed to empty myself out some more, and for the moment there just seems to be a small coprolithic deposit right above my bladder to shift.

Hopefully this banana and the caffeine from my diet cola will help.

This has been happening ever since my bladder issues showed up, but never this fast and this strong before. It was all so sudden and extreme.

Like Medusa looked at my recent CT scan. ^[1]

I dunno exactly how my bladder issues could interact with my IBS to cause this but the timing strongly suggests that’s the case.

And I prefer to think they are linked because otherwise I have two entirely different issues and one of them might send me to a proctologist.

And I would really rather not.

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It’s Therapy Thursday

Talked with my shrink Doctor Costin today,

Ended up talking mostly about medical shit. Not what I wanted to talk about but kind of hard to avoid telling him all about my recent hospital voyage as it’s a rather major life event for me.

One good thing did come out of it : Doc Costin suggested I try a stool softener for my issues with constipation.

And I was like, duh, I forgot those were even a thing. And unlike laxatives or firmatives, stool softeners are safe for IBS sufferers like myself because they don’t stimulate the bowels to push or anything, they just soften one’s poop to make it easier to pass.

Sounds fantastic to me. Whatever gets this freaking sludge out of me.

I also talked with him about the lack of dopamine in my brain, and he suggested exercise. Apparently it pumps dopamine levels.

So the cure for my lack of motivation is to somehow get motivated enough to exercise.

It’s a heck of a catch, that Catch-22.

Still, I am determined to at least get out into the sun some time soon. I need fresh air and sunshine and time out of this musty dusty stinkbox of a bedroom.

Maybe I will go to the beach one of these afternoons. I could benefit from some time spent lying on a blanket on the sand, letting the radiant heat bake the toxins from my skin and letting the magic of being near water soothe me.

I only hope I get healthy enough to take the heat.

More after the break.

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Tales of Toughie

My grandfather on my mother’s side, my Pepe (pronounced Papie in English) , owned and operated the electronics store in my home town. He sold and repaired radios, TVs, and so on. He was a very quiet, softspoken man who didn’t say a lot. But one day, some drunk asshole came into the store, said the wrong thing, and my Pepe picked him up, carried him outside, and threw him literally across the street. See, my Pepe was into bodybuilding way back before it was cool. When most people, in fact, thought it was pretty gay. In the armed forces, his nickname had been Toughie. He was known for being quiet, strong, and incredibly loyal. Nobody messed with Toughie or his friends. So that drunk guy picked the worst possible guy to fuck with. I love this story. And I admit, if I had a time machine, I would go back and find out what that asshole *said*. Because it had to be pretty bad to bring the Toughie out of my Pepe.

I love this story

Wrote that in the comments section of a Reddit video about seeing “the fury of a patient man” and liked how it turned out, so I thought I would share.

Man, I’m not even a real writer yet, and already I’m plagiarizing myself.

We were never close – I was never close with any of my mother’s family despite living in the same damned town – but still, I miss my Pepe.

He was a hell of a guy. A total rock. Exuded the steady calm of a mountainside. Quiet, unprepossessing, simple of manner and style.

But with an understated sense of power I found quite soothing as a child.

If there’s a heaven, I hope he’s there letting my Meme (Mamie in English) do most of the talking so he can do most of the listening, just how he likes it.

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That dope o’mine

All depressives are addicts. We are addicted to whatever means we use to get enough of that sweet, sweet dopamine to live.

My addiction is video games.

Not a huge revelation in the context of this blog, but my recent education in brain chemistry continues to expand my mind and I just realize that keeping that trickle of dopamine going is why I spend all my time playing video games.

It’s my firmly fixated dopamine source. It’s my lifeline. That’s why I find it so hard to imagine life without it. That’s how fixation works.

Even if I try to imagine myself as ridiculously wealthy (the best kind of wealth), with unlimited options for my entertainment, including hot male prostitutes (!), part of me would still be thinking about the next time I would be able to play video games all by myself and get my fix.

In that sense, nothing would have changed.

That’s how I know I’m an addict. I could be having the time of my life and there would still be part of me scheming to get back to my comfort zone, sitting here on this computer, alone and engaged.

That’s where I get my dopamine. That’s the only time I feel truly safe because all the excess energy that usually goes into anxiety is tied up with the game. It fills my mind and displaces all the bad stuff in the process, and for a while, I am okay.

Reality is scary. Video games are not.

Like all addictions, mine is very unhealthy and a big barrier to my having some kind of adult life, but that doesn’t make quitting any easier.

Somehow, I need to find another source of dopamine. Then convince myself that it can be “just as good” as video games, or better.

Even the thought of leaving the video games behind long term – like, for more than an afternoon – gives me the cold sweats.

Hello, my name is Fruvous, and I have a problem.

Where else can I get my dopamine?

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.