.
.
That is how long it took me just to figure out how to pick up my medicine... through exhaustion, confusion, and an otherwise inability to put together a shower, being dressed and at the right time, and driving to the post office. I, of course, went to the wrong one though finding the right one was quite simple. I walked in with only minutes to spare. I started the process at about 14:30, could not quite get out of bed until 15:34 though I tried several times. Then a shower and dressing. Then, I was almost sure I could get there. The minutes were flying off the clock though. I was moving through mud. I was never sure, but I thought I could. And then it was done. A weeks worth of hard labor, truly.
The truth of being me is a bit embarrassing. I debate moral and ethical, social and economic, issues and I think I do so reasonably, and yet I cannot go down town and pick up medicine? Then again, I would suggest that Einstein left to his own devices would have had at least as bad of a situation, probably much worse. No, I do not produce as he did if what he did is just as questionably termed scientific poetry mixed with mysticism than pure science, but that is for another discussion. Still, I am pleased to just be who and what I am. And a little success sure can be sweet!
I do not think I will start it today. I know, you would think I would want to hop right on it. I want to give myself another day just to put myself in as much order to begin this as possible. And, actually, I need a rest after fighting the mental plague for this week. Though, as a mental physicist might say, since I did not move (until today), that I did no work. Which, in a way, proves physics wrong, since I worked harder doing nothing while attempting to do something than some people will ever work their whole lives. Yeah, crazy, but true.
I am looking forward to starting Ritalin again though. I have a long list of things that need to be done, that I want to do, and that I should do. I have places to go, people to see, things to do, and a life to get a bit more busy within. I have subjects to study, words to learn and write, and blogs to visit. It is time for me to start up again. And in my new home I have a brand new glowing chance at starting over. I have a world to build. I have just been given, I think, the key to the kingdom, barren as it is at this point. It is time.
Have a great day!
Friday, February 26, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Wow, impressively difficult.
.
.
I can still think, inside here, sort of. My mind works fine. It simply will not focus and it cannot control my body. I am left wondering why high blood pressure medicine, or just as likely, lower blood pressure, would cause me such difficulties. The situation probably indicates that it is not a psychological issue. Not that this is important, since there seems to be no interest in the medical community at looking for the real cause and I simply do not have the tools, knowledge, lab, and whatever else might be required to find a fix. So, I have to rely on bandaids rather than a cure or particular regimen for the root cause(s).
I have tried to turn things around. I have tried to affect my sleep patterns by trying to sleep at night so that I might wake during the daytime hours. I have set my alarm, as well. I merely end up sleeping more and waking up late in the afternoon. I cannot remember hearing the alarm go off. Sometimes, in my bad periods, I remember hearing it, messing with it, and ending up being too tired to do anything more than hitting the snooze for an hour and then turning it off. At this point, I am not sure what happens when the alarm goes off. Do I simply sleep through it? I do not know.
I need food, activity as my body actually hurts from sitting and sleeping so much. My eyes, somehow, hurt. I cannot seem to get anything done. I ran out of soda and I do not have my meds. I will have to push to get one or the other. Wish me luck.
Oh, the other night I dreamed I was a professor. There was a fellow professor with whom I wished no contact. As can be the case, this made him very interested in becoming my friend. So, I decided to have a conversation with him. I cannot remember what he did that made me feel this way, but I told him I considered him evil. He had committed spiritual suicide. He had, whatever he had done, slain his soul. I told him I knew there was a chance he could be saved, but that it was very unlikely since he truly believed in whatever he did, and continued to do so. He was vested in evil and to change would probably cost him everything he knew. I said physical suicide is similar, though if it is merely to escape pain, that suicide was not only understandable it was forgivable.
Then, after considering the difference between spiritual and physical suicide, I started thinking about the differences between physical suicide itself. The only time an animal will commit suicide, for example a deer in the clutches of wolves which explodes the heart within it's body, is when pain or surety of death is there. Only after it has tried to run to it's ability, after it has fought as it can, and probably even then only after it has been physically damaged beyond repair, will it submit to the natural course of events and kill itself.
I realized, then, that this is why (assuming my "near death experience" was true) I was not in the worst part of that. I had done what I did because of pain and knowing that I was beyond repair. No, suicide is no longer an option for me. I must carry on as I should. I simply understood something from the dream that helped me understand the past. At this point, any suffering I bear is for Christ, and life, with the Holy Spirit, and through those for the Father. I know it seems odd, but suffering is a learning experience. Just as is the humility of the life I lead by the nature of my condition.
Still, it would be nice to be able to figure out how to go to the store, pick up some food items, do the dishes, and have a meal. Or, pick up my medicine, or maybe some soda until I can get that. Anyway, if I can handle a little pain and degradation, anyone can! :P Be well, and know that in here, if deeply sometimes, is a thinking feeling human who does his best. And he has the nerve to snicker about it from time to time on top of that. Ha!
.
I can still think, inside here, sort of. My mind works fine. It simply will not focus and it cannot control my body. I am left wondering why high blood pressure medicine, or just as likely, lower blood pressure, would cause me such difficulties. The situation probably indicates that it is not a psychological issue. Not that this is important, since there seems to be no interest in the medical community at looking for the real cause and I simply do not have the tools, knowledge, lab, and whatever else might be required to find a fix. So, I have to rely on bandaids rather than a cure or particular regimen for the root cause(s).
I have tried to turn things around. I have tried to affect my sleep patterns by trying to sleep at night so that I might wake during the daytime hours. I have set my alarm, as well. I merely end up sleeping more and waking up late in the afternoon. I cannot remember hearing the alarm go off. Sometimes, in my bad periods, I remember hearing it, messing with it, and ending up being too tired to do anything more than hitting the snooze for an hour and then turning it off. At this point, I am not sure what happens when the alarm goes off. Do I simply sleep through it? I do not know.
I need food, activity as my body actually hurts from sitting and sleeping so much. My eyes, somehow, hurt. I cannot seem to get anything done. I ran out of soda and I do not have my meds. I will have to push to get one or the other. Wish me luck.
Oh, the other night I dreamed I was a professor. There was a fellow professor with whom I wished no contact. As can be the case, this made him very interested in becoming my friend. So, I decided to have a conversation with him. I cannot remember what he did that made me feel this way, but I told him I considered him evil. He had committed spiritual suicide. He had, whatever he had done, slain his soul. I told him I knew there was a chance he could be saved, but that it was very unlikely since he truly believed in whatever he did, and continued to do so. He was vested in evil and to change would probably cost him everything he knew. I said physical suicide is similar, though if it is merely to escape pain, that suicide was not only understandable it was forgivable.
Then, after considering the difference between spiritual and physical suicide, I started thinking about the differences between physical suicide itself. The only time an animal will commit suicide, for example a deer in the clutches of wolves which explodes the heart within it's body, is when pain or surety of death is there. Only after it has tried to run to it's ability, after it has fought as it can, and probably even then only after it has been physically damaged beyond repair, will it submit to the natural course of events and kill itself.
I realized, then, that this is why (assuming my "near death experience" was true) I was not in the worst part of that. I had done what I did because of pain and knowing that I was beyond repair. No, suicide is no longer an option for me. I must carry on as I should. I simply understood something from the dream that helped me understand the past. At this point, any suffering I bear is for Christ, and life, with the Holy Spirit, and through those for the Father. I know it seems odd, but suffering is a learning experience. Just as is the humility of the life I lead by the nature of my condition.
Still, it would be nice to be able to figure out how to go to the store, pick up some food items, do the dishes, and have a meal. Or, pick up my medicine, or maybe some soda until I can get that. Anyway, if I can handle a little pain and degradation, anyone can! :P Be well, and know that in here, if deeply sometimes, is a thinking feeling human who does his best. And he has the nerve to snicker about it from time to time on top of that. Ha!
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
A breath of fresh air.
.
.
Faculties came back online again, a bit. I came out of the fog well enough to begin planning how to further extricate myself from this sticky situation. I did not ponder why, at first, I merely used the time to make some plans and do some things. After doing a few minor things, like preparing a meal and calling my friend to set up an outing tomorrow (the meal REALLY helped as I knew it would), I started to try and figure out what had happened. Ah, I had become so down I had forgotten to take my medicines for a few days. Off the medicine I was able to function again. Still, that will not do either. So, back on the medicine. With plans in play to be out tomorrow, I will ensure I pick up the new medicine, which should help.
I can only hope Ritalin works as it has in the past, and yet is not too much. It does not drive me off the deep end, but it does push my personal (not physical) tolerance. Going from zero to mach 3 is a bit daunting mentally, especially while still groggy. Until I regain the reins, I am on a runaway horse. Still, it can be sort of funny. I can leave my corpse well enough to watch the animal aspect contained therein do what critters do when hyped a bit. Feed a mouse caffeine, then watch, you will understand.
I keep thinking about the 'human condition'. I see that we have an animal aspect. Animals are purely and simply biological robots. They know neither future nor past. They do not choose to breed or not, they react to chemical processes. They have, at most, a suspicion of anything other than biological directives and that only among the higher functioning among them, perhaps dolphins, great apes, and maybe elephants, among a very small other assortment. Still, even those animals have no idea about the world. They have no need or interest in affecting their environment. That aspect of us only comprises a small amount of what we are, could be, or should be.
Humans are different in many ways. I almost feel sorry for those who do not understand. And, yet, I still wonder if there are many among those who would be human who are actually merely animal. I do know, however, that there are some, perhaps many, who are more. I would like to think I am among those who are more. If lessened by illness, I realize there is a difference and attempt to act on being more than just an animal.
If we are just animals, then culling is in order. If we are merely animals, then there is no purpose to being other than to gain as much as we can and live in as much luxury as possible, for as long as possible, and at the expense of anything or anyone else. If we are purely biological in nature than life on this planet (and to our actual knowledge disregarding the "alien hypothesis", the banal hope beyond hope of the soulless) and indeed all of existence is doomed. And life, regardless of anything anyone tells you is the most precious gift given to anything in existence. I suppose that is why I am so anti-abortion. I could see being anti-death penalty too, but at this point the risks the prisoners present is too great for that for me. No, life is so very special, rare, and doomed, that but for there being God and a greater meaning, this would all be a great big cosmic joke... a bitter one.
Anyway, from one human hopefully to another, live well. Time IS short here, whether you know it or not. And though I think for the most part where we are going is far finer, missing out on the possibilities here is like missing out on high school and college (if you went) events. Though those were lesser than say, hopefully, marriage, work, adult friends, they can never be revisited or done over. Do not skip out on this life. Have a good night.
.
Faculties came back online again, a bit. I came out of the fog well enough to begin planning how to further extricate myself from this sticky situation. I did not ponder why, at first, I merely used the time to make some plans and do some things. After doing a few minor things, like preparing a meal and calling my friend to set up an outing tomorrow (the meal REALLY helped as I knew it would), I started to try and figure out what had happened. Ah, I had become so down I had forgotten to take my medicines for a few days. Off the medicine I was able to function again. Still, that will not do either. So, back on the medicine. With plans in play to be out tomorrow, I will ensure I pick up the new medicine, which should help.
I can only hope Ritalin works as it has in the past, and yet is not too much. It does not drive me off the deep end, but it does push my personal (not physical) tolerance. Going from zero to mach 3 is a bit daunting mentally, especially while still groggy. Until I regain the reins, I am on a runaway horse. Still, it can be sort of funny. I can leave my corpse well enough to watch the animal aspect contained therein do what critters do when hyped a bit. Feed a mouse caffeine, then watch, you will understand.
I keep thinking about the 'human condition'. I see that we have an animal aspect. Animals are purely and simply biological robots. They know neither future nor past. They do not choose to breed or not, they react to chemical processes. They have, at most, a suspicion of anything other than biological directives and that only among the higher functioning among them, perhaps dolphins, great apes, and maybe elephants, among a very small other assortment. Still, even those animals have no idea about the world. They have no need or interest in affecting their environment. That aspect of us only comprises a small amount of what we are, could be, or should be.
Humans are different in many ways. I almost feel sorry for those who do not understand. And, yet, I still wonder if there are many among those who would be human who are actually merely animal. I do know, however, that there are some, perhaps many, who are more. I would like to think I am among those who are more. If lessened by illness, I realize there is a difference and attempt to act on being more than just an animal.
If we are just animals, then culling is in order. If we are merely animals, then there is no purpose to being other than to gain as much as we can and live in as much luxury as possible, for as long as possible, and at the expense of anything or anyone else. If we are purely biological in nature than life on this planet (and to our actual knowledge disregarding the "alien hypothesis", the banal hope beyond hope of the soulless) and indeed all of existence is doomed. And life, regardless of anything anyone tells you is the most precious gift given to anything in existence. I suppose that is why I am so anti-abortion. I could see being anti-death penalty too, but at this point the risks the prisoners present is too great for that for me. No, life is so very special, rare, and doomed, that but for there being God and a greater meaning, this would all be a great big cosmic joke... a bitter one.
Anyway, from one human hopefully to another, live well. Time IS short here, whether you know it or not. And though I think for the most part where we are going is far finer, missing out on the possibilities here is like missing out on high school and college (if you went) events. Though those were lesser than say, hopefully, marriage, work, adult friends, they can never be revisited or done over. Do not skip out on this life. Have a good night.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Huh?
.
.
Still in absolute burned-out mode. I am trying to break the chains that bind it just is not working. I have found that obsessive gaming allows me to remain conscious, if being conscious hurts. Though I can do little else, I at least am awake more of the time and keep my mind somewhat active. Surprisingly, those games require quite a bit of thinking. As I said though, it hurts.
I am working at getting showered, dressed, and going out today. I need some food, for one thing. I might get out to shoot, as well. It seems like an easy matter. Stand up out of this chair, go to the shower and undress, shower, brush the gums, shave the face, and dress. Then make a call and head out. And, it is that easy. But it is not that easy. Moving through fog is difficult, knowing that I will have to force myself every step of the way is daunting, and knowing that I cannot just stop and rest if needed is fear inducing. Think of it like deciding to get on a bus in L.A., with a ticket to N.Y.C., with no means of getting out of it. I am sensitive to noise, tired beyond understanding, with a headache and a lack of ability to simply think straight or for long.
If not today, then tomorrow I will get to the post office and pick up my medicine. It seems they have arrived, but because of the Ritalin, they cannot just leave it at the door. I cannot get out, mostly, and seem to have missed every time they have visited (I received the notice on Friday). Oh well. It will be done, soon.
Never worry though. I am used to this, to a degree. I enjoy what I can how I can. At least I do not have to worry about scratching out an existence too. If I am not always happy with the V.A., at least they are taking care of me financially. I could well have been a bum if not for them. I have little choice in my condition. Actually, if it were not for my ability to communicate at a high level in spite of being ill, I am almost certain I would be in a ditch or under a bridge somewhere. Many are. Pray for them before ever praying for me.
.
Still in absolute burned-out mode. I am trying to break the chains that bind it just is not working. I have found that obsessive gaming allows me to remain conscious, if being conscious hurts. Though I can do little else, I at least am awake more of the time and keep my mind somewhat active. Surprisingly, those games require quite a bit of thinking. As I said though, it hurts.
I am working at getting showered, dressed, and going out today. I need some food, for one thing. I might get out to shoot, as well. It seems like an easy matter. Stand up out of this chair, go to the shower and undress, shower, brush the gums, shave the face, and dress. Then make a call and head out. And, it is that easy. But it is not that easy. Moving through fog is difficult, knowing that I will have to force myself every step of the way is daunting, and knowing that I cannot just stop and rest if needed is fear inducing. Think of it like deciding to get on a bus in L.A., with a ticket to N.Y.C., with no means of getting out of it. I am sensitive to noise, tired beyond understanding, with a headache and a lack of ability to simply think straight or for long.
If not today, then tomorrow I will get to the post office and pick up my medicine. It seems they have arrived, but because of the Ritalin, they cannot just leave it at the door. I cannot get out, mostly, and seem to have missed every time they have visited (I received the notice on Friday). Oh well. It will be done, soon.
Never worry though. I am used to this, to a degree. I enjoy what I can how I can. At least I do not have to worry about scratching out an existence too. If I am not always happy with the V.A., at least they are taking care of me financially. I could well have been a bum if not for them. I have little choice in my condition. Actually, if it were not for my ability to communicate at a high level in spite of being ill, I am almost certain I would be in a ditch or under a bridge somewhere. Many are. Pray for them before ever praying for me.
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