“Did you say, ridicurous?”

ambiguous stairs

Just when I start believing I know myself, I realize my presumption is quaint, at best.  (At best!)  In reality, I’m better at noticing the distinction between self and not self.  It’s making me think about baseball metaphors, (and it’s a game for which I have only a vague, disinterested grasp of the rules.)  What is going on? One epiphany at a time, please, dear Universe.  I only just figured out how to live in realtime, don’t you know.  There’s no need for haste.  (whispered)  No need.

It hit me this morning I’ve been masking my depression from myself.  The illogical nature alone has me all fired up to give myself a Proper internal ass-whooping.  Fear not;  I’m no amateur — hard pass on kicking myself about the head and neck.  I’m hip to that trick, yo.  Energy redirect, activate.  (Freeze all motor functions.)  Figure out why.  Hm.  Perhaps I’ve allowed myself to become too good at hiding my depression.  (It feels safer when people don’t know I’m performing near super-human feats merely to manage the simple daily tasks many take for granted.)

I recognize where I fall on the Depression Severity Privilege Scale.  It corresponds to the Acceptable Reaction Scale, which suggests I steer clear of pity parties and focus on learning how to work around my glitches features.  In Armybonics:  Suck it up and drive on!  Huah!  (Hm.  I might have a naming problem.  Later.  I have other shit to work through.)  I haven’t touched my violin in weeks, which is my original red flag for depression.  It feels like voluntarily breathing only through my left nostril for weeks.  It’s just wrong.  (If you just tried it, I love you.  Heh.)

winding road

It’s as if there’s an invisible forcefield surrounding my violin.  I can see it, and it’s as much a part of me as an arm, but something won’t allow me to play it.  It’s one of the Depression Monsters favorite games.  The worst part is I’m the one controlling the damn forcefield.  I can’t remember the right controller combination to deactivate it, so I keep randomly mashing buttons, to no avail.  All the while, becoming more irritable by the minute.  Because irritability makes everything better. (/sarcasm and +10 for nailing it for once.)

Perhaps it’s because I’m in no mood to knowingly increase my vulnerability by playing.  No.  My spirit instantly rejected that possibility.  I think it means I need to stop and address the issue rather than continue pretending everything is fabulous.  There’s likely a correlation between instant spirit-level rejection and a need to pause and re-examine old habits and assumptions.  (Bookmarked for further investigation.)  It’s a theme for 2019 in my world, seemingly.  Yay, she said while rocking.

I’ve been rocking back and forth quite a bit, lately.  It’s a stim I was forced to stifle in the Army but picked up again after.  (I didn’t stop;  I used imagination and math to make slight rocking equally soothing.)  I picked up several imperceptible motion stims while serving.  In hindsight, I can see why I didn’t fit in larger social groups ever.  I was too busy thinking up ways to control my anxiety without drawing too much attention to myself, to worry about things like why so many people wanted to fight me after chit-chat attempts.

person standing in shopping cart

In the past, I got a lot of mileage out of the Just Do It, motto.  When I recognized I was depressed, I forced myself to partake in activities until it stopped feeling like moving a mountain using The Force.  A moment of silence to grieve the unnecessary loss of all that energy, please.  No regrets.  It’s now filed under Shit That Happened on my journey before leveling up.  (I plan on adding a sticker that says, Funny, to the label eventually.)  Goals.

I need to tweak my lifestyle, so I experience less debilitation from depression.  I don’t want personal hygiene to cost half my daily energy resources any longer.  I want to play my violin and other instruments more often.  I know once I break through the forcefield, joy awaits — a much-needed release of expression without words that continuously hide from me.  I see every moment spent creating heals me.  So, I will take the time and energy necessary to learn the skills I need to lower the forcefield at will, not by force, but through contemplation of experience.  (Thanks, music.)

Welp.  Things aren’t as frantic and horrible as they seemed before I thought it out.  Whew.  The Depression Monster has me in a headlock, and it’s okay.  Got that, Alison?  Don’t panic.  Take a deep breath, and work it out at your own pace.  You got this.  Look around at the scenery while you adapt.  Be still and listen at times.  There is no race or competition, so keep searching for Easter Eggs on the road of life.  (That’s how I roll.)  I’m off to prepare for the premiere of the final season of HBO’s Game of Thrones.  😆💜✌🏽

p.s.  (Seinfeld fans)  Donna Chang was the Rachel Dolezal of the ’90s. 🤣

“Touch this, feel that. Seventy-five bucks.”

We had a thunderstorm last night, and are expected to have another today.  I’ve been wearing noise-canceling headphones to compensate.  Fortunately, the new episode of Gettin’ Grown with Jade and Keia podcast is out.  It’s something I look forward to each week.  My Amazon Prime membership expires in a few days.  Buh-bye to my former impulse shopping addiction.

In celebration of this wise decision, I ordered one last thing.  I purchase fidgets and sensory toys every so often.  I can’t recall a time when I didn’t.  I’m pleased with the recent popularity of fidget toys because now they’re conversation starters, too.  I ordered Super Cool Unicorn Poop.  (It’s purple and blue, glittery slime in a cute little bottle.)  It’s odorless.

unicorn poop

It feels like jello that wasn’t allowed to set long enough, without the sticky mess.  (It’s non-toxic.)  My skin feels wet after touching it, but it leaves no residue.  It’s right at the limit of my grossness tolerance.  I won’t play with it often, but it’s ridiculously fabulous when I do.  (I was even more amused by the fact someone is selling a single used bottle, last I checked.)

I got the 3-pack because slime shrinks over time.  There’s a negative review by someone who was irate over receiving partially full bottles.  They may have overlooked the limited shelf-life.  Or perhaps they bought a used version.  Heh.  I don’t think of myself as stuck-up, but when it comes to slime, I prefer new.  In fact, I insist.  😂  Also, I want to see this on How It’s Made.  So much.

My body seems to have recovered from my recent dietary fiasco.  The only lingering effect is my broken off-switch.  Unfortunately, it’s broken all the time, so I’m probably just hyper-aware of it lately.  I’m trying to be careful about what I begin because I’m likely to continue for quite some time.  I usually track this by how often I complete 1000-piece jigsaw puzzles.  Ideally, it should take at least two sessions.

I do them daily as part of my winding down routine before sleeping.  I love puzzles.  If I start completing one a day, I know my broken off-switch is operating unacceptably.  I use this method because I notice, even when in rote mode.  Eventually.  I have a love-hate relationship with my broken off-switch.  Part of me loves how I’m able to complete time-consuming tasks more quickly than others.  Another part of me recognizes the need to sleep sometimes and resents it.

Rock 'n Roll jigsaw puzzle

I don’t like it when I can’t stop, though.  It doesn’t often happen, and usually results in pacing until exhaustion.  Coding marathons used to trigger it as well.  I’ve always been this way.  It used to frustrate my mom when I was a teenager.  My days and nights were backward until basic training.  I was glued to my computer every night.  The rest of the time, I was on autopilot.  I guess it’s all that interested me at the time.

I also missed school more often than I missed a run as a teenager.  It’s always been my favorite stim.  I was training for the Army, so my mom never interfered.  The funny thing is, when I was on active duty, I ran PT in the mornings with my unit, then ran again at night on my own time.  I started doing this in El Paso because of the heat.  Then it just stuck.  It only backfired once when I had a surprise PT test after running seven hours prior.  I still managed to pass, but my legs were sore after.  I’m off to read.

p.s.  Stevie Nicks is on the above puzzle twice!  (And Michael Jackson looks like someone just told him Tito killed his rat, eh?)