“You could read the paper through the whole thing if you want.”

AFTF: Puma Custom Genetic Supplement

I hope those celebrating are having a blast this Independence Day.  In case you missed it, Sheryl Crow is releasing her final album in 2019.  After that, she’s only releasing singles.  Stevie Nicks is going to be on it.  I’m grinning like Oprah just adopted me.  😁   Just a quick flyby before our gig.  I’ll be back to regular posting this weekend.  ✌

“It was like my own personal Crying Game.”

human

Today is flying by so quickly.  I haven’t slept in a while; there are just so many things I prefer doing.  Sleep is a necessary chore I avoid as much as possible.  It’s when my mind attempts to process all the terrible things I force myself to pretend don’t exist while I’m conscious.  (I need desperately to overcome my shame for choosing this self-preservation.)

It’s just that it’s the only way I can stand being alive.  I give myself a pep talk each time I arise.  Life is unbearably painful sometimes.  I endure for the moments of joy.  It’s not elaborate:  I trained myself to recall something fabulous the moment I awaken.  I’m going to see Beyoncè in August, and Fleetwood Mac not long after.  😃 😁

I’m getting astonishing mileage out of the anticipation.  🙌🏽 I’m a bit shaky today because I’m not crying as much as my spirit needs.  I hate crying, but not as much as I hate bursting into tears at the worst time due to emotional constipation; (especially when I know laughing can easily trigger backed up tears.)  Laughing is my favorite thing to do;  I don’t want to ruin it.

cow

Instead, I’m going to cry while I play Schindler’s List theme by John Williams on my violin to some cows.  It’s like crying while crying.  Heh.  I’m not even playing because it’s 2018; the year I believe will lead to drug stores selling FDA approved suicide kits for $19.95.  The Force is out of balance on our beautiful planet.  We all feel it.

I’m overwhelmingly sensitive to the energy of others.  I see your pain before I see you;  (it’s keener than my crappy vision.)  I’m also empathetic by nature.  It makes agoraphobia my shadow.  I can code for days (with short bio-breaks,) and create worlds I can bask in without the heaviness of hatred and ignorance I’m forced to witness and endure every day.

These digital worlds are a poor substitution for fellowship with humans, of course, but at least they don’t hurt so much.  I can breathe, learn, explore, and exist freely there.  I can pursue my passions, hone my skills, and develop new abilities.  I experience a great deal of contentment and know I could more easily survive for a long time in my private worlds.  The temptation to crawl back under that digital rock is intense.

But then I remember what I discovered when I crawled out, not too long ago:  Stevie Nicks.  (Others as well, but she’s the epitome of why I now exist in the world outside my head, despite everything.)  Perhaps you assumed by now I’d calm down and stop being so excited about Stevie Nicks.  You know nothing, Jon Snow.  🙃  I’m off to release some sorrow before it overflows.  ✌🏽

Stevie Nicks

“In times of crisis, the wise build bridges, while the foolish build barriers. We must find a way to look after one another as if we were one single tribe.” -Black Panther

 

“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.