“I love The Drake!”

swing

It’s been a busy week so far.  I’ve been silent for a few days, meaning my ability to speak aloud has fled.  It happens every so often and to recover my voice I need to force myself to stop freaking out about it.  Fortunately, I have a short attention span.  It functions as Plan B because eventually, I forget I haven’t said anything in a while, and start singing again.  It’s just anxiety.

I don’t know why I’m so anxious lately, but whatever.  It’s possible I’m merely over-excited.  All my components for my new PC arrived, and I began building it last night.  It turns out, the CPU cooler I chose is too big to seat the four RAM chips I bought.  Sadly, I installed it before realizing it wasn’t going to work as planned.  I tend to function on auto-pilot too often, and this is a consequence.  For now, I’ll leave it and only use two chips.

I failed to research this particular component thoroughly enough.  Relying on reviews on Amazon and Newegg isn’t as useful as it was in the past.  Amazon used to be my favorite e-tailer, but now it’s more like a vast, unorganized garage sale.  The search function is a joke as third-party sellers place their items in any category they decide will get the most views, rather than where logic would dictate.  Half the time, the things I order are customer returns sold as new products.  I despise this practice so much I’m breaking up with Amazon altogether.

I’m finished assembling the PC, and only need to install the OS and drivers.  I’ll do it this weekend.  I’ve been thinking a great deal about Jesus lately.  I was given a different perspective on Christianity recently, and it’s rocked my world.  It might be why I’m not talking, now that I think about it.  Not enough resources left.  😂  My CBD oil should arrive tomorrow, and I’m hopeful it will lead to sleeping again.  I’ve spent my nights this week rereading Oathbringer by Brandon Sanderson.  I’m finally quiet enough internally to process it as I read, which makes me so happy.

It’s feeding a part of me I don’t know how to identify, but I was so hungry it hurt.  It’s also contributing to my thoughtfulness.  It’s reminded me of the fact I see all humans as possibly Jesus interacting with me.  I remember when I learned I should treat everyone I encounter as if they might be Jesus in disguise.  It blew my mind profoundly as a kid.  I’ve since recognized the fact many don’t even see me as a human being.  I’m somehow less than that to many I’ve interacted with, and while it’s incredibly painful, it doesn’t change how I view others.

heather in the mist

Brandon Sanderson writes about this pain in Oathbringer.  It’s by no means the focus of the story, but it’s loud and clear.  It’s strange, but identifying a source of my inward pain is comforting.  When I’m able to understand, it makes healing easier.  At the core of my inability to identify as a Christian is my despair over the behavior of (self-proclaimed) Christians.  I’ve decided to let go of this distraction.  I do know a few who behave as if they believe Jesus is real.  I’m thankful to be aware of more than one because one was enough all along.  Silly me.  🙃

I’m incredibly relieved to have worked this out.  It’s done beautiful things for my joy-noticing ability.  I guess I not only had to climb out from beneath that rock, but I also needed to set it down.  That last bit is essential.  (I’m such a doof for carrying it around for no reason.)  😂  I finally understand why I love people so much, regardless of how they feel about me.  I don’t feel like a fool anymore.  It’s fascinating to me how much I’ve learned from people I’ve never met this year.  Most of them are much younger than me, too.

Now I understand why Stevie Nicks is my fairy godmother.  (Although not understanding had no impact on my ability to love her.)  I no longer feel weird for adopting Amy Lee as my little sister, even though she doesn’t even know I exist.  It’s not necessary.  I can still love her and learn from her.  Yay.  I don’t care that Lily is young enough to be my daughter.  She’s a friend and teacher.  As are Jade and Keia from Gettin’ Grown.  And so what if Lorde (Ella Yelich-O’Connor) is younger than kids I used to babysit.  Her music heals me.  I understand enough.  I now know being silent has more benefits than annoyances, so I won’t bother worrying about my voice returning.  I’m off to read about music theory.  Peace.  💜

 

“Did you close with the swirl?”

 

Look awayI’ve had an exceedingly frustrating day.  It’s not over yet as I’m still waiting for a technical issue to be fixed after several hours of back and forth communication.  At least I can say I didn’t cry about it.  I came dangerously close, but I sucked it up.  I’m confident it will be resolved soon.

I’m still dealing with insomnia but I ordered groceries earlier, and they included a non-addicting sleep aid.  I’m not hopeful for tonight, though.  I figured out what’s going on.  It’s my method of coping with life.  I force myself not to grieve and agonize over how we humans treat one another during my waking hours.

Unfortunately, when I sleep, the bill comes due.  Everything I avoided thinking about plays out horrifically in my dreams.  I feel trapped by this strategy, but it’s the only way I can survive.  Now I’m going further by drugging myself, so I can sleep.  It feels like a chicken-shit option, but so does the alternative.

I honestly don’t know how others can sleep with even more knowledge about fellow humans behaving atrociously.  I avoid the news.  I can’t watch TV unless it’s a cartoon.  The Flintstones and Hey Arnold! are my shows these days.  I’m relieved I can at least read novels, although some of them level me in my sleep.  I just finished reading The Lords of Discipline by Pat Conroy for the second time.  My gut regrets my decision.

My inner asshole has been verbally hazing me for being incapable of coping with reality.  I’ve thought about phlebotomizing myself again, but not seriously.  It’s not a solution, just a concession that exceptional intelligence is more disability than a gift IMO.  (Especially when my avatar is black and female.)

Sad kitty

I’m hoping when I’m well rested, I’ll be able to see the positive aspects of my life as they also exist.  Exhaustion isn’t the same as depression, but it sucks just as much.  Both shine a spotlight on all things negative and exasperating.  I’m reduced to my pathetic facts list to help me cope.  Things like:  At least I’m middle-aged, and no matter what, it’ll all be over soonish.  I’m getting a lot of mileage out of that fact.

I feel like Miss Celie telling Sophia not to fret over spousal abuse because life is a temporary condition in The Color Purple.  Sigh.  I need to decide on a novel to read later.  I’ll probably choose something by John Irving or Charles Dickens.  For now, I’m off to watch Stevie Nicks on YouTube.  She can make me smile even through tears.

“No, it always has to be explained to me, and then I have to have someone explain the explanation.”

Off Switch

I accomplished a great deal yesterday. Today, I’ve barely managed to pull off the mandatory tasks. I squeaked by with incredible effort. I can’t believe it’s early evening. I feel it should be around 2 PM at the latest. So much for my plan to turn in early tonight.

My off switch has never worked properly. Once I’m engaged in a task, it’s difficult to stop. I’d like to believe I have a bit of control over it, despite evidence to the contrary. I haven’t definitively determined what triggers it to become worse. Not even close. I have two hypotheses; both discouraging. Sigh.

I love being completely absorbed in what I’m doing. It’s like stepping out of time, letting go of everything, including my body, and focusing only on what I’m doing. Leaving that state makes me want to weep. But I’ve accepted I must, often. Not doing so often enough is the equivalent of living under a rock.

I’ve learned it’s not the way I want to exist, much as I love it. It murders my ability to socialize, for starters. (I’m always going to regret not finding out about Stevie Nicks sooner.) There are excellent reasons to check in with the rest of the world on a regular basis, and I’m absolutely interested.

The thing is, acknowledging the world outside my head is borderline sadistic. There’s a shitload of pain out here, and I’m unshielded. I don’t have the experience in coping necessary to navigate without rivers of tears; so I tend to retreat when I sense I’m failing and have no clue what I’m doing wrong. (I despise that feeling.)

My decision to attend a Fleetwood Mac or Stevie Nicks concert in the future is turning out to be an effective retreat deterrent. (At least when it’s voluntary.) I need to stay connected, so I’ll know when they go on tour. I already had the terrible, awful nightmare where I discover I missed out because I was too distracted to get tickets. I woke up and immediately began bawling like it really happened. I’m such a doof. Heh. But it was horrible!

I’m going to work out a new time management strategy. I keep adding new things, but there are still only 24 hours in a day. My bad. This is my reward for bragging about my math skills, eh? The universe is hilarious (sometimes.) I’m off to read.

“It was more like a full-bodied dry heave set to music.”

For the music

I’m sad about the passing of author, Ursula LeGuin, yesterday.  Today is Virginia Woolf’s 136th birthday.  I decided to spend the day listening to Lorde.  I’m not done yet, but it’s been a soothing day so far.  She’s one of my healing sisters, along with Stevie Nicks, Beyoncè, Amy Lee, Sheryl Crow, Agnetha Faltskog, and Aretha Franklin.

They’re who caught me up through their music when I was (barely) enduring a period of devastation.  Losing my parents and closest siblings, divorce, surviving rape, etc.  All leveled me.  I can’t really wrap my head around the concept of such powerful bonds with people I’ve never met.  It’s too abstract.  (Much easier to just cherish it and enjoy the music.)

I’ve come to an important decision.  The next time Stevie Nicks or Fleetwood Mac tour, I’m going to go.  I’ve imagined it and tallied up the known consequences as well as potential unfortunate situations.  If they all happen, it’ll still be worth it.  (If nobody shoots me,) it’ll be an incredible experience.  (That’s the only thing I can think of at the moment that would utterly ruin it.)

I’m not going to let autism or PTSD rob me of this experience.  (Because hell no.)  I already know it’s not possible to die from being too happy.  So it’s all good.  Whatever I have to pay afterward (stapled to the floor) will be worth it.  Depending on when, I’ll either be going with M. or his sister, S.  Hopefully both.

I have noise canceling headphones to wear when the band isn’t playing.  Also, dark tinted glasses if it’s an outdoor show, or they flash bright lights at the audience.  I have lots of pocket-sized fidgets and anxiety focus figures.  Mini Tina (From Bob’s Burgers) is my favorite.

Tina

She’s only 2″ tall.  I also have a 24-Karat-Gold:  Songs from the Vault keychain from the Stevie Nicks website.  I love how it feels to hold, and it’s always cool.  I used to have a tiny Garnet from Steven Universe, but I lost it.   (I love cartoons.)  Now I want to watch Hey Arnold!, or Rocket Power.  Heh.  I’m off to read.

 

 

“It’s not like you’re launching missiles from a submarine and you both have to turn your keys.”

I had a good weekend.  I’m in a band, now.  I accepted without asking any of the obvious questions.  Such as, what’s the name of the group?  I’ve made a note to find out this weekend.  (Among other things.  Heh.)  I was just so happy to be invited, it didn’t cross my mind.

Today has been slippery.  Most of the day got away from me.  I had a meeting this morning and a violin lesson after lunch.  I didn’t have any further demands for the rest of the day.  At first, I felt anxious about it.  It feels like driving without a seatbelt when I don’t have anything to do.  It’s too loose and uncomfortable.

I got dangerously close to panicking.  When I saw my window of escape was quickly shrinking, I jumped through in the nick of time.  I sat down and thought about Stevie Nicks.  It totally worked.  I ended up watching the first three episodes of Grace and Frankie.  (Stevie Nicks likes watching TV.)

gracefrankie

I know Stevie Nicks is a big fan of Game of Thrones, but I can’t handle the TV show.  So I wondered what she’d watch on Netflix.  Heh.  (I’m such a doof.)  Grace and Frankie looked promising.  One of my oldest TV memories is of Lily Tomlin in a rocking chair that made her look like a little girl.   (I’ve loved her ever since.)

Grace and Frankie is fabulous.  I kept telling myself to keep my expectations in check, it’s just TV, and they keep blowing my freaking mind.  No wonder Netflix and Amazon Prime Video are raising their rates.  (They’re showing network TV why so many of us abandoned them altogether in favor of amateur podcasts and access to all the music.)

I was so engrossed in the show when I looked up again, it was dinner time.  We had a blizzard today, and it’s still windy.  The sound of howling wind reminds me of Patrick Rothfuss.  I’m off to start rereading his novel; The Name of the Wind.  Peace.