I am freshy awoken and have no frigging clue as to what to write about.
No idea. I am just plain not awake enough for this shit. I’m drawing a complete blank.
Better hope the caffeine in my beloved Diet Coke perks me up real soon.
Well, there is my eye surgery tomorrow. To take the cataract out of my RIGHT eye. That one is nowhere near as big as the one from my left eye, but Doctor Vaezi thinks it would be best to get it out too.
Plus then he can put the artificial lens in the right eye as well to make them match.
And this time I will take the drops for the whole six weeks IN A ROW, dammit. My left eye is still a little blurry. I might have fucked up my new eyeball permanently despite my having gone back on the eyedrops for it for the last two weeks.
At the end of this process, I could have had perfect vision. But no, my dumb ass had to miss the whole “six weeks” thing somehow, and here we are.
I am so goddamned tired of dealing with my own bullshit, ya know? I try so hard to get things right but there is always something I miss or misunderstand or just plain forget.
No wonder I keep wanting someone else to run my life. Clearly, I suck at it. I am just plain not mentally competent to manage my own care.
I wish I could just check myself into an institute for those who have completely failed to become grownups. You know, all us bruised and battered little baby birds who did not learn to fly on the way down after being kicked out of the next and just hit the ground at full acceleration instead.
9.8 meters per second per second is a harsh mistress.
And they wonder why we can’t get or hold jobs.
Anyhow, eye surgery.
Like I said before, totally not worried about this one. Been there, done that, got the eyedrops, and so on. It will be weird but not painful.
Probably won’t take as long due to smaller cataract, either.
But the fucking thing is scheduled for 7 am tomorrow morning, and that’s goddamned annoying. Means I have to get up at 6 am in order to leave at 6:30 am. Fuck.
That means that I will not be hanging out with Le Gang after we get back from shopping and McD’s. I will come home, finish my blogging, and go straight to sleep.
Bit of a bummer, that. I will try not to be too cranky about being up so early, let alone having to actually think and do stuff.
It’s funny how it lands on one of the few times of the day when I am almost always asleep. If it was at 9 and not 7, no problem, I usually get up and eat breakfast at 8 anyhow, so no big deal.
But no, it’s at 7 am. Son of a bitch.
Oh well. This time tomorrow it will be well and truly over. Come what may.
More after the break.
My cup runneth over
Welp, I just wet myself.
I almost made it back to the apartment OK. I could feel the need to pee building as we chatted in the Ironwood parking lot. I knew I would need to go straight to the bathroom when we got home. I was monitoring the situation closely.
But I thought I had time. I thought it might be close but I would make it. The idea of not making it had not crossed my mind.
But I had forgotten that, while the blood and pain have not returned since Friday, one of my lesser urinary symptoms has stuck around and that is the tendency for my need to urinate to suddenly surge to dam-busting levels without any warning.
It hadn’t stuck in my mind that much because I spend the vast majority of my time within three or four steps of my toilet, so when the need struck, relief was close at hand.
But not this time. There I was, waiting for the elevator to take me to our floor from the parking level, when the tsunami hit and I was helplessly pissing my brand new pants.
What a christening.
Luckily, only Joe and Julian were there to witness this debacle, so my embarrassment was minimized. They know me, they love me, they know I have medical issues involving my waterworks, and so I don’t feel so bad about them seeing and knowing about it.
God knows, they know better than anyone what a mess I can be.
Still, I am angry at the world for its continuing war on my dignity. I just don’t get to have any, apparently. Between things like weeing myself and all the ways my usual state of absentminded confusion has of making me look like a total idiot and my spastic clumsiness always tripping me up (sometimes literally), it is no wonder that my preferred mode of existence is to sit still in front of my computer doing nothing productive at all.
Hard to humiliate yourself when you are completely alone and sitting down.
And fear of humiliation, rejection, and awkwardness is a huge factor in Avoidant Personality Disorder (AVPD). It looms so large for folks like me that we will warp our entire lives around our desire to avoid those negative social outcomes.
It’s absurd on the face of it. Yes, humiliation and rejection and awkward situations suck, and they hurt, but they are hardly the worst things in the universe. Certainly you shouldn’t shape your whole life around avoiding them.
But we do. I do. And I would love to stop, but I can’t. Not yet.
I’m not strong enough yet. I’ve got a lot more healing to do. I have a massive Wound to deal with before I can be free of these terrible fears.
Until the Wound is cleansed, there will be a weakness at my center that cripples me.
But once that Wound is cleansed, nothing is going to stop me.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.