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Wednesday, July 20, 2016

mombie apocalypse- the slow evolution of time smashing

Day 12 on neurontin. Please to notice I'm not on minecraft as much. Maybe. You might wish I'd go back to the tunnels and trees.

clicks to bacon soda convo

This is how scattered I am. I called up to move an eye appointment from the end of this month to the first Friday in September. As I was changing the date on all my calendars and pocket planner, I noticed I had the orginal time different on every one- 9:30, 10:00, 10:30... That's me moving from room to room writing stuff on calendars. I have to have info in my hand and look at it every time from moment to moment. I live like this. No one questions it. Not one of the professionals on my care team has ever expressed any concern over this.

That is why I journal. I try to get the dates right when I blog, but once in awhile I run into a post where I've written the wrong year down for something happening.

The irony? The year I finally got away from my ex, the only way I could finally force him to leave me alone was by telling him he could see the kid if he agreed to go to an appointment at a psychological assessment center and sign a paper saying I could talk to whoever evaluated him. We are talking top of the line behavioral health, this building is famous around here. He passed with flying colors until I asked the assessor point blank if my ex had given dates for when we got married and when our kiddo was born, and watched the assessor turn really white when I pulled out the documents and showed him the real dates, and he actually asked, "Can you get him back here?" I simply said "Sorry, this is all I needed", got up and walked out. Basically, if he couldn't get the facts straight and really believed whatever popped out of his mouth (making our toddler two years older than she really was, stuff like that), that pretty much validated that other things he'd said about horrible injuries and surgeries in his life being a lie, and I was able to point to documentation with a neurologist disproving that, as well.

Him being a pathological liar wasn't the problem. One of my scariest days with my ex was the day a neurologist showed him on x-rays that he was fine. The drive home was not fine, and the stories didn't change. It was the neurologist who was wrong, and that really fueled a temper that translated to abuse later as a form of stress relief. What prompted this final break was a concerned social worker at a local welfare office sending him to job counseling, and one thing led to another until someone upped the ante and filled out forms for the state to pay for proof of hardship. It was a miserable year dragging from one office to another and another, but vital to an end game I didn't know at the time would save me later.

I can remember those basic kinds of dates, like when my child was born and when my wedding anniversary is, but I have what I feel is an uncomfortably laughable time orientation problem. But yeah, it's still really ironic, I think. You could say my own going time wonky thing is karmic justice for 'doing him dirty', but back then, time orientation really was a vital part of an elaborate escape plan because child safety stuffs. Note of interest- If you are reading this and have been considering seeking legal help leaving an abusive spouse, keeping a date and time noted journal of when whatever happens is significant to your case.

People take a lot for granted. I've had to remind Scott that if it weren't for him, I'd be in poor housing and have a court appointed guardian, and likely be living so broke that I wouldn't have tech at all. It doesn't matter that I got over 30 on an ACT or was in grad school or even held steady jobs for 8 years while the kids were in junior and high school. All that matters is that I live with a calendar and clocks in every room of my house and still can't get the day right, much less the time.

You wouldn't believe how many people I've run into that say they have problems, too, but they never tell anyone. Whole lotta brain blips out there. Illness, injury, trauma, lots of people living with time jags or deja vu or even moment to moment from meal to meal, but otherwise come across pretty normal. I think time orientation is taken for granted because so many of us are on schedules for school and work and stuff, but when the schedules are taken away during vacations or job loss or in beween semesters, we feel lost. Time passes weird.

One easy fix- use the TV for a time schedule, right? Fave show, this night of the week. Nope, doesn't work for me. I float week to week having to check my DVR timer for what day it is, and several times a week point blank ask @bonenado what day it is, sometimes several times in one day. I can be all over knowing something is two days away, and without warning think it's tomorrow, or even that I missed it somehow.

Feeling this disoriented can be unnerving. At first I couldn't put a finger on what was causing some of my anxiety, and then when I'd bring it up, someone else would counter with my anxiety was causing the time disorientation, but I've lived with this so long now that I think the two are separate. I exist, time is now, and having to attach it to what's going on around me with other people is where the anxiety comes from. The pressure to be synchronized and know what to do when, like meet for a special day, is where that comes from.

I used to think this was a really big deal, but I'm finding out as I share more and more of my own stuff that other people are like this, too, and there's not always a specific start date or cause. It's just something we all go through. I'm not sure if human brains were made to be tethered to time like this, to be so aware nearly every moment of where we are in a vast ocean of spacetime, to know what our planet tilt is and where we are in our orbit. We used to watch the stars, and that would be enough.

Time sync is upon us. Our entire planet is on the brink of super sync. This reminds me of two things- the Hopi time prophecies, and the Wrinkle in Time quintet. I think what transpired on Camazotz was about the scariest thing I ever read. I don't know if L'Engle ever read Lewis' Space Trilogy, but her CENTRAL Central Intelligence (1963) isn't far from his N.I.C.E. (1945), and then Spock's Brain airing in 1968. All three of these stories use a disembodied human brain to sync control over a population.

Is it any wonder I like Lexx... (Awesome brain removal screen shots.)

If there was a point to this, it's probably subconscious. I just think humans being synced into schedules, while efficient and profitable, is much akin to being kept in boxes, if you can twist the picture around enough to see it like that.

It might not be long until the entire world is finally synced up and all of us are in perfect rhythm, like on Camazotz.

The Hopi spirit is how we'll survive the time sync. This planet-wide sync has been coming all along, and maybe the only way humanity survives the machinery of it is to hang onto what really makes us human. It may not be in our natures to handle time pressures, but it is in our natures to forgive each other for feeling stressed out. We might feel a little disoriented, but as long as we don't take our stress out on each other, I think we're going to be ok.



Also, this is Wednesday and a new Mr. Robot is on tonight. I checked.  photo winky.gif

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