“Oh yeah, the nipple. But besides that, how did you feel about Kramer’s work?”

Laughing

I finished building my workstation computer last night.  I had to remove the enormous Cooler Master MA610P RGB CPU Air Cooler, and it’s going back to Amazon, along with the non-working cable extenders, and the extra Cryorig H7 ordered accidentally, (a $10 return shipping fee.)  I think it’s the last PC tower I’ll be building, even though I probably said this last time.  Heh.

It’s incredibly fast, so I’m pleased with the outcome.  I’m most impressed with the G.SKILL TridentZ RGB Series RAM.  It looks fabulous with its cycling rainbow LED lights.  I wish motherboard producers would stop putting their drivers on a DVD, though.  It’s time to use stick drives as Microsoft does with Windows, (at least the LAN driver.)  I haven’t built a tower with a DVD drive in ages.  Software distribution by downloading is nearly universal.  I can’t think of an exception.

inside new build

I’m heading out of town soon.  The Depression Monster still has me in a headlock.  I don’t want to do anything.  Everything takes so much effort and makes me want to cry.  I guess it’s a good thing I forget about this shit once I’m feeling better.  The downside is how surprised I am each time I experience an episode.  I hate having to give myself a pep talk just to get up and go to the bathroom.  Fortunately, Amelia Bedelia is a sweetheart, and she follows me everywhere as if she’s lending me some strength.

My appetite has fled.  I forced myself to practice my drums yesterday.  I’m also almost finished rereading Oathbringer by Brandon Sanderson.  I’m awed by its depth of understanding regarding PTSD.  It’s helping me in a manner I thought could be achieved through therapy, but unfortunately, I’ve never had a therapist who could see beyond my skin.  I regret how long it’s taken me to recognize it’s a dead end.  (I’ve met a few who saw me as human, but they weren’t available to treat me.)  Thank goodness for the incredible novels I’ve found, (Harry Potter series and the Cosmere stories.)

I listened to the latest episode of Gettin’ Grown with Jade and Keia on Tuesday.  They talked about how women of color are at a higher risk of certain diseases and conditions, and the necessity of maintaining checkups and preventative care.  They both admitted to neglecting to keep up their appointments and committed to scheduling them before the next episode.  I thought about doing the same, but then I recalled my predicament.  Subjecting myself to the treatment I’ve received at the Sioux Falls VA is sadistic.

I still liked listening to the podcast, though.  It’s something I look forward to each week.  I’m more interested in enjoying however much time I have left than potentially prolonging my life by enduring hateful people.  As much as I’d like to forget my experiences there, I’m grateful I remember because it prevents me from going back.  I could do without the nightmares, though.  The CBD oil has allowed me to sleep for at least four hours a night since I started taking it.  I only take a few drops before laying down (because it tastes horrible.)

I’m going back to Azeroth (World of Warcraft) to force The Depression Monster back into hiding.  Flying around and looking at the scenery while listening to my healing sisters (Stevie Nicks, Agnetha Fältskog, Lorde, Amy Lee, Beyoncé, and Sheryl Crow on my ultimate playlist) will help me shake free of this lingering melancholy.  Then I’ll follow it up with some comedians on Netflix and a lavender bath bomb before finishing my novel.  I’m feeling better just from typing this out.  Yay.

“Sleep is separate from that.”

Sleepy kitty

I need to focus on my sleep issues.  I haven’t been able to sleep for more than a few hours in a row this week.  While it’s enough to function, it’s not enough to interact with other people.  I lost count of how many times I’ve completely misunderstood what others were saying in the last two days alone.

I feel like I’ve been speaking English and everyone else is speaking Mandarin.  Only it’s worse because I don’t realize they’re not using English (in real time.)  My balance is wonky, too.  I slipped on some ice during my run this morning, and now I’m sporting road rash on my chin.  I didn’t even get to do the precarious dance first; just face planted.

Fortunately, I have clear band-aids.  Fabulous invention.  Now people who aren’t the shade so rudely referred to as flesh tone don’t have to announce their injuries from across the room.  Yay.  I reread Animal Farm by George Orwell last night.  Now I’m reading The Descendents, by Kaui Hart Hemmings.  It’s fascinating so far.  Next, I’m going to look for my copy of Watership Down by Richard Adams.

I thought I was going to stick with women authors this year, but it didn’t work out.  Plus, John Scalzi has a book release soon.  I did read lots of novels by Octavia Spencer and Ursula LeGuin, but then I decided gender is irrelevant in authors.  Women authors don’t write more gently, as I anticipated.

I built a soundproof chamber for Amelia Bedelia.  She loves it.  I can get in up to my shoulders, and it’s fabulous.  I’m fascinated by my cat’s personality.  When she’s in her chamber, she wants to be alone.  If I acknowledge her in any way while she’s chilling in there, she bites me.  That’s a stern, “no.”  Heh.

I ordered DirecTV Now (because M. had a cow.)  I didn’t realize I was an asshole for canceling cable without discussing it with him first.  It seems to be superior to Playstation Vue, and I discovered I get free HBO for life (not sure whose) for being an AT&T wireless customer.  Yay.  Sony rearranged which channels go with which tier, and the options suck.  It’s tailored to Fox News watching sports lovers.  Hard pass.

We’re watching Gattaca tonight.  It’s one of my favorite films.  M. hasn’t seen it yet.  I think he’ll enjoy it, too.  I’m off to make the popcorn.

movie night popcorn

“The problem with talking is that nobody stops you from saying the wrong thing.”

I’m recovering from the holiday season.  I overdid it, and I’m still paying for it.  It was worth it.  Heh.  I know when I can say that, I’m nearing recovery.  Whew.  It was not my resolution to spend the first week of 2018 stapled to the floor.  (That’s what it feels like, anyway.)

I realized part of why I’ve struggled with Oathbringer by Brandon Sanderson is it triggers me.  Recognition made all the difference.  I’m almost finished.  I also reread Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery.  As a preteen, I didn’t pick up on the humor.  This time, I belly laughed often.

This year, I’m going to focus on books written by women.  My next book is Kindred, by Octavia Butler. (It’s also going to trigger me.)  I hope I develop some emotional callouses.  I’ve made progress giving away things I don’t want or use anymore.  It’s fascinating how quickly items are grabbed up (with permission) by my neighbors.

My only regret is they’re taking the boxes, too.  And the folding table I had them on.  Heh.  I guess someone needed it.  I like my apartment so much better now.  My living room looks like I just graduated from university; spacious.  I love it.  I’m off to purge another box of anxiety-provoking stuff.

“I’m exhausted. I’ve been on this street a thousand times. It’s never looked so strange.”

I’m so tired.  I’ve been acting as if I have infinite energy, (again.)  My body usually plays along with this delusion until I crash.  Good times.  At least I can hold my head up without too much effort.  I’m overwhelmed, but it’s a result of too much awesome in a short period of time.  I’ve been trying to piece together what happened, and devise a plan to calm down.  It started when Oathbringer, by Brandon Sanderson was released.  (Authorized Oathbringer artwork by Michael Whelan.)

I knew the overexcitement would level me if I didn’t pace myself.  Nevertheless, I didn’t.  I couldn’t read for comprehension because my mind was breakdancing.  Then I got a notice from one of those design-your-own-stuff websites.  It informed me the item I created infringed on Brandon Sanderson’s property, and therefore, was no longer available.  Oops.  I barely remember making it.  Someone bought it, and I owe Brandon Sanderson thirty-three cents. (I think it was a mousepad or something.)

It was kind of like seeing Obi Wan’s illuminated ghost in the sky, reminding me to use The Force.  So I set the novel aside to regain my focus.  It’s difficult to explain how significant the story is to me.  It’s helping me exist happily in my two worlds.  There have been a few times in my life where I’ve been broken to the degree I knew I could let go of one (or both) of my worlds.  (I sometimes wonder if I made the right choice.)

Autism feels like being stuck in extremes, and longing for middle ground, to me.  I suspect it’s why I find myself drawn to those with schizophrenia and bipolar disorder.  I’m probably not complicated to anyone, but especially not to them, it seems.  I wonder if it played a factor in my attraction to my ex-husband, (he’s schizophrenic, but wasn’t diagnosed when we married.)  Being engaged makes me think about him lots lately.  More good times.

I read Artemis, by Andy Weir.  I loved it even more than The Martian.  It’s often hilarious.  Andy Weir is fabulous.  I still wasn’t settled enough to read Oathbringer.  So I returned to witches and vampires.  I’m reading the second in a series by Deborah Harkness, titled Shadow of Night.  I’m able to focus and am enjoying the series immensely.  I love reading about these creatures, and the fascinatingly different ways people write of them.

Fortunately, I’ll be ready to devour Oathbringer when I get home.  I’m enjoying our time in Denver, despite crashing today.  I’m going to watch more footage of Stevie Nicks on her latest tour next.  The one I saw earlier began my journey back to calmness.  She told the audience to go after our dreams, after pointing out how long she worked to make hers a reality.  She gave specific examples of things we should do, (which floored me.)  I know this sounds literally fantastic, but she told me to write the book.  So I’m going to do just that.  💜

“Dark and disturbed? His whole life revolves around Superman and cereal.”

Kitties!

Today went well.  I didn’t go see Star Wars.  It wasn’t the right time.  Sundays are for self-care.  I experiment with lots of beauty product samples, deep condition my hair, and clean.  It’s my way of arming myself for the week ahead.  This year is too stressful to be anything but proactive.

I ordered a new hair care regimen from Form Beauty.  It’s one of the companies that sponsor my new podcast;  Gettin’ Grown.  I started listening to the podcast from the beginning, so I’m still behind at this point.  The older promo code worked, though.  (Type formbeauty.com/gettingrown for 10% off.)  I can’t wait to try it.

The hosts both live in major cities on the east coast, (NYC and D.C.) and still struggle to find products for people of color.  I guess living in South Dakota isn’t a disadvantage (in this single instance.)  Heh.

I’m re-reading the Harry Potter books.  It’s another epic tale that also serves as a survival guide for life.   Every reading renews my sense of survivorship.  Like Harry, I live in two worlds simultaneously.  He’s the boy who lived.  I’m the girl who lived.  There are many parallels, and it’s nice to feel understood and accurately comprehended.

The Harry Potter series is the best guide for surviving with PTSD I’ve ever read.  J.K. Rowling understands humans far better than anyone I’ve read or encountered in the mental health field.  Frankly, I think it should be used as a teaching tool for mental health providers.  You can’t help heal without understanding.

I haven’t felt my blood pressure increase significantly after someone professed the books are solely for children in a while.  It’s a book you read over and over for the rest of your life because it’s the only way you’ll get all it has to offer.  J.K. Rowling is a Jedi Master, and it makes me so happy.  I’m off to read.