Don't even ask me where this stuff comes from, but phrases pop into my head unbidden and so far out of the blue sometimes that I have to drop everything I'm doing and google search just to see if it's a thing. Today's weird brain blurt phrase was "When the whole of Montana is screwed...", and my first thought ok, was that whole or hole? Because if there's a hole in Montana and it's on fire (i.e. wildfires), it would be screwed. You know what? There's really a Big Hole Valley, and sometimes it gets screwed. Apparently wildfires happen every little bit around there.
Sometimes I imagine myself senile in a nursing home just blurting out off the wall phrases. My only guess is that I'm somehow plugged in to the astral hive mind or something and hear random gibberish, like eavesdropping. We hear our brains talking all the time, right, they're processing on the side kinda like we do in dreams, but mine really is a continual mashup of stray narratives. Anyway, this is where it all led me to in internet searches today. Relative or not, it's all interesting. This is what I got looking up 'astral shared mind'.
You're on your own if you really want answers. I just blitz my way around the search list and then go back to what I was doing, which today is switching between minecraft and chores around the house.
I know, if anyone's been paying attention, I've been flattening out another euphoric episode last few days. Pretty sure the new BP med has triggered it. Brain chemicals are funny things.
Don't worry, not going there. I don't put that stuff into my mouth any more. I'm just stuck on a word smash week where words ping around in my head and won't leave me alone. Like sternocleidomastoid. Why in the world that word popped into my head is beyond me. Those muscles aren't bothering me at all lately, which is a nice change. I really was bouncing philosophical stuffs around for awhile yesterday, though. I think my stomach butted in because I was too busy to notice I missed lunch.
I've had a few very interesting private convos this month, each were completely different subjects with completely different people, but they all had a common theme- I clearly didn't know what love even was growing up. I didn't question it, didn't expect it, didn't care about other people bringing it up, didn't feel sad about not feeling it, and almost never applied it to myself or anything going on around me. I did know, though, that I didn't feel it, even though I could feel protective or enjoy hanging out with my sister.
After I had a child, I spent a few years filtering through all the social pressures and expectations that becoming a parent opened my eyes to. By the time she was five I was eyeball deep in a relationship that would strip every last shred of innocence that my first marriage had somehow left tatters of still clinging around like old wallpaper. By the time my little girl was seven, I knew exactly what love was NOT, and wrote out 3 pages of gripping philosophical sadness that concluded humans discarding each other like used dryer sheets could only be cured by at least one person rising above the expectations for love and hope to become love and hope. While we wait for love to rescue our pitiful lives, love can never really happen and no one has hope, because waiting around for love to 'happen' cancels out what we think is supposed to be coming from someone else. If we are expecting it like that, we can't be it ourselves for someone else. But when we rise up and love anyway, hope becomes real for someone else. The one who does the rising up must do it not only without hope, but against all hope. As long as people discard each other like used dryer sheets, 'love' spreads like a virus, and we teach all the bad habits to new loves, and they in turn teach it to new loves, because love is a throwaway item. The baggage we carry infects more and more people around us until we grow bitter and lonely in our old age. I found that unacceptable. The only way to stop it is to stop treating each other like dryer sheets, objects that are supposed to fluff up our emotional lives, hold down the static, and make everything smell fresh.
My second marriage is well into its 23rd year, and not because it's easy and we're romantics. I am one of the most fortunate people I know, meeting someone who thinks the same way (not in so many words, but more intuitively after a painful childhood himself), and what makes it work for us is we're so terribly stubborn and not easily swayed with every little breeze of emotion. Oh, there's been emotion, long years of gritting our teeth through mess after mess, challenges upon challenges, and it all boils down repeatedly to neither one of us would ever abandon the other even on our very worst days, weeks, months, and years. We've both been abandoned, neglected, ignored, used and abused, and we both know what love is NOT. We know that looking around for something we don't create ourselves is a ridiculous lie to tell ourselves. We. Are. Love. Why look around for it and hope to find it when the next person is doing that too, looking around and hoping. How can we be what the other person needs from that point of view?
I don't feel emotions right like other people do. I don't feel loving. I don't feel kind. Love and kindness are philosophies of emotional logic I developed to survive, because without them I am terribly alone and deeply sad. I don't think I am capable of being in love correctly, yet I'm in love all the time. The euphorias I've developed in later age (hormones out of the way?) can now easily be triggered, and they are the only thing that's ever connected me to feeling happy, especially the first time when my brain was so chemical soaked that I was high on chemically induced love and felt happy for the first time in my whole life. I enjoy people and things, I laugh quite a lot, I am pleased with this and that, but outside of euphoric episodes, I don't feel happy. And I don't even think about that, whether I 'feel happy'. This has been discussed at length with a psychologist over several years, looked at from several angles that include autism spectrum with complications like synesthesia and narcissism and possibly even dissociation, the way my parents raised me and my years of wrangling with a conflicting belief system, my best friend being maliciously murdered, injuries from a nasty accident, a first marriage to a pedophile, an affair that wound up in what boiled down to a 'forced' abortion (reverse rape, complete with restraints)...
Did I just keep switching it all off? How do I switch it back on? Did I survive because I couldn't turn it on in the first place? Yet I puzzled it all out into a philosophy of being that my psychologist thinks on par with extremely advanced awareness levels and thought processing skills for young child, preteen, adolescent, and young adult. I absorbed philosophies like people around me absorbed holiday candy and TV shows and the other lies of social structure, stuck on roller coasters of feeling happy and unhappy because that's what modern society insists that we constantly assess in ourselves. Are we happy? Personally, I think that feeling is so easily mimicked putting sugar in our mouths that we've become accustomed to habitual feeding frenzies and then agonizing over all the ways food makes us unacceptable. Food porn. There are stories throughout history of socialites alternately gorging and starving themselves, but what darker secrets lurked beneath?
The reason the questions are coming back up is because I noticed I didn't feel anything doing something that another person would likely have found exciting, possibly even exhilarating. Sometimes I do something that other people would feel prone to brag about or use as personal resume padding, and I feel nothing, even though I know now that I should. I'm aware nowadays that I'm numb most of the time. I used to harbor anger like Dr. Evil petting Mr. Bigglesworth, but I've mostly let go of that, so I'm on a sort of testing ground, poking myself here and there to see if I'm feeling anything.
Happiness is conditional on people and events and material things and feelings affecting me, and there is nothing in this world that makes me happy, although eating certain foods used to come close. Nothing *makes* me happy. I never understood what happiness was even supposed to be, like what does it mean when people say they don't feel happy. I grew up completely missing the ability to grasp that concept. I've tried to word out my thoughts on it through the years in some of my silly surveys at Surveypalooza, but after I went through the initial euphoria (almost completely stopped eating and sleeping for 12 days and was continuously gurgling in a love state, which alarmed my psychiatrist), anyway, after I *felt* that, I finally had some kind of context, because I was able to say "I feel so happy." I had never felt happy before. No meds or drugs or events or people in my life had ever induced any kind of happy feeling even remotely like that, but as soon as I was in it, I recognized it. And then when the euphoric episode crashed back down, the happiness was over and I haven't really felt that kind of happiness since, even though I go through euphoric episodes fairly regularly now. I felt happy for 12 days out of my entire life, and the whole thing was a brain chemical imbalance.
Love and happiness are important, I know that. I know it's important that I help the people around me feel loved and happy, even if I can't or don't feel these things myself. I care deeply for the people around me, and I know I'm very lucky I actually have people in my life who love me back, even if I don't have any desire or need for them to go out of their way to do and say things to show me this. Well, poor @bonenado caught it a few times, but we're both hung up on our conundrums, and pretty much apparently nailed the love thing out of sheer stubborn devotion.
Not everyone is so lucky. Not everyone finds the glove that fits their weird hand. Not everyone feels understood and accepted, quirks and all. Not everyone feels comfortable just being themselves around people who are supposed to be the most important loves of their lives- parents, sibs, offspring. It's not something that came easily for me and Scott, and yet here we are, out of nothing more than sheer stubbornness and an unwillingness to drift alone again among the dryer sheets. Neither one of us can ever go back to that kind of thinking. We make the love we want and we live the love that we need. We've become for others what we desperately needed and didn't have for ourselves. It's been hard and it took time, but we are who we are and there was no other way to survive. We draw firm boundaries around misconceptions and dysfunctions, and we don't tolerate that crap in our own home. Our love depends on utter honesty, utter trust that the other won't leave over something stupid. My home is my sanctuary, and my people are exactly that- mine.
A great big part of this was letting go of and walking away from the kinds of things that perpetuate emotional codependency (dysfunctional relationships doomed to fail because they are not love even if they are disguised as love), chemical dependency (alcohol, drugs, meds), experience dependency (things inducing rushes of adrenaline and euphorias, shopping, thrill seeking, for some people gambling would go here), pretty much anything that masks pain, to put it very simply. To feel pain is one of the privileges of being on this earth (it seems designed especially for pain), and if souls and eternity exist in any form at all, then my being here is by choice because I wanted to learn something important. Blocking that process only slows down my spiritual progress and hurts other people. Even if I can't feel remorse or guilt, I know that is a bad thing and that I will be held responsible for being stupid. Years of deep reflection point no other direction than this- that we are here to learn to love through the toughest kinds of pain imaginable. It's ok to be weak and fall on our faces, but it's not ok to *not* learn from that, and once learned, it's definitely not ok to turn our backs on it and be selfish. I think this holds water in any religion or belief system you'd care to bring up.
My name is Broken Dragon, and that is my phyllosopapilla on life, the universe, and everything. I was 42 when I woke up. The next year I made a blog...
3-day cervicogenic headache aside (mimics migraine), I thought our first weekend with Bunny moved in went really well. I have 2 days left in physical therapy this week (doing my usual fibro-flare kickback against all the local stimulation and then sleeping better with my neck in a weird position, plus dental chair for teeth cleaning, yowza to the neck #uffda), my blood pressure seems to be settling around 116/78 kind of stuff (huzzah! CPAP, guys), I finally broke through on that stupid fluid retention from the big med change in January (still can't believe how much that bossed my whole body around), and yay we're finally back to Monday routine.
Allergies- don't wanna jinx myself, but CPAP is super duper for helping control so far. April is my bad month every spring. The air I breathe through the night now is double filtered. So far I'm using only half the antihistamines I was using last year and breathing comfortably, but oak pollen is just now really ramping up (birch is already high), so we'll see where I am a week from now. People around me, meanwhile, are struggling. I've talked before about how quickly pollen saturates a house in a variety of ways with tips on how to manage that. the definitive last word on living through a ragweed tsunami
Still euphoric, but it seems to be pretty controlled. This is the 12th day, which is usually about where it starts tapering off for me. Feeling pretty confident that I won't go through a crash and burn once it does. I think this is the best controlled big euphoria I've had, and despite all the extra stress around me, I still managed to float through quite a bit of it even though I was controlling the float level.
I'm not letting myself look at work I feel isn't getting done. I'm hugging myself for getting through all this huge stuff intact and not worse off. I think my family is a good team because we know each other so well and we're all into problem-solving, and somehow we all seemed to click into about the smoothest problem fix transition we've ever gone through together.
Number one lesson learned- no matter how smart a 3 year old seems, the probability of treasure winding up in one's tummy is 100%, pretty much just a matter of time. Bunny's amazed disbelief at how in the world it had to and actually did make its magical reappearance still cracks me up. Watching this learning process has been delightful and opened up all kinds of new thoughts about thought processes in my own mind. The conclusion, as always, is that humans in general don't 'know' anything without conscious investigation and observation, and all our knowledge as a species is cumulative. Left to our own devices, we'll always just keep swallowing metaphorical rocks and not know what to believe.
Quick summary- I'm tired, and we've still got a long way to go. I can do this.
This was my lullaby in my headphones last night after everyone else settled in. One of my last thoughts before I finally drifted off was how I never seem to talk about how much the Joker has filled background gaps in my head since I was a kid. I saw all the old Batmans in the 60s, the cartoons, all the movies. I love Jack Nicholson, but I think Heath really nailed it.
whatever cauliflower that's left from salads that you can't force yourself to finish raw, boiled and drained
whatever is left from an open can of evaporated milk after you've used most of it in a recipe, warmed in empty cauliflower pan after cauliflower is cooked
about an inch slice off a regular size block of velveeta, warmed in the milk until it stirs in
onion powder to your liking, I accidentally dumped nearly a teaspoon but this is very edible, I like onion flavor
the rest of the cooked peppered bacon that is way too spicy to finish up and you're sick of it
Awesome soup. Wait, the flavor and texture is much better than that, lemme try again.
Behold, awesome soup.
Still euphorically floating around and kinda forgetting to eat (which makes good soup awesome), but actually got a nap after several days of around 5 hours of sleep a night, so yay. Figured maybe now is a good time to get hold of photobucket since I'm too weird to be bitey. How's this for succinct?
Subject: login issues- Upload forces relogin, can't upload for 5 days
Hello- Concerning account "(me)"
Every time I click 'upload' I am force logged off. Clicking 'upload' takes me straight to 'login' and I login over and over trying to do an upload. This happens on every browser I try. Everything else is working fine. I have been a pro user for years. I even beta tested a new feature one year. I have not received any kind of acknowledgement that my last email (in this forward) was received or that this issue is being looked into. I'm staying calm in epic facepalm. I use photobucket heavily for international forum and fan site readership, and photobucket is the mainstay of most of my blog building. Please fix this. Thank you, (me)
Maybe I should send an email to paper.li about their bot swarms...
Anyway, since I can't get this into photobucket at this specific size, I'm going to put it here and see if I can hotlink it to where I want it to go in a widget, ok? Ok.
I mean, I have that around in other places, but I wanted that particular snip. And now it's getting late, so I'll finish playing with it later, whenever that is. I have stuff in town the next 2 days, and I'm pretty sure I'll feel a little beat up from physical therapy, plus getting ready for Thanksgiving. I've noticed I'm already starting to emotionally disengage and @bonenado talking to me is like through a filter where I'm only half aware of even interacting, so aspienado is already having a tough time staying on the holiday slide.
I've decided this boinging awake in the 2 a.m.s now instead of the 3 a.m.s must be me flying through some kind of super euphoria and I can't feel it that much because of the gabapentin. I'm still eating, thank goodness. The first super euphoria I went through without any meds lasted 12 days and I practically stopped eating and sleeping the ~entire time~. It. was. awesome. but the crashing back down kinda sucked, and my psychiatrist seemed relieved this fall when I said I'm on gabapentin now.
Watch me wind up sleeping through Macy's parade...
I polished off a big load of pan roasted parmed brussels sprouts with a splash of aged balsamic, and while that felt really good at first, later I had a tummy ache, so maybe don't eat a quart of brussels sprouts in one go next time.
I JUST NOTICED BLOGGER HAS ADDED EMOJIS.
🌝😋⛄😍
HOW LONG HAS THAT BEEN THERE.
I can even search by drawing one to look for a match.
All righty, then, I am go for emojis. Wow. 🦃 Happy Turkey Bird!
Photobucket has not yet gotten back to me on not being able to upload anything for several days, but I'm too floaty to care right now. I've had a pro account forever, but they're ridiculously difficult to get hold of, so I dunno. If I had staff I'd just toss this problem at someone else, so I tossed it to Yablo, who was tunneling deep under an extreme biome yesterday and didn't care. I angled a beautiful 45 degree angle tunnel up through the highest point and emerged over a breathtaking view, which is pretty much Happy Land for me. I really dig dwarf mines on LOTR. Get it? Dig. Nvrmnd.
Random Batman pix. Someone has discovered the joys of button pushing, aka doorbell.
And popcorn!
And that Santa is an ok dude.
It's been a very long year, but also a very good year. Nonstop allergies, viruses, and the big dentist thing, but autie finally eating some finger foods, venturing into verbal, and even hamming for a camera is amazing. I am extremely proud of his mommy and daddy for being cool with making it ok to be himself, and thrilled that his doctor is into nutrition boosting early development. I didn't get any of that at his age (I was punished and fussed at a LOT on a daily basis for years), and I wasn't the greatest interactive mommy (although I did turn the corner on let's cut the crap with this punishment thing), but generational autism spectrum isn't the big bad doom and gloom it used to be, and I'm pretty sure Batman has got a lot of surprises for us in future.
My mother never knew I was one of the smartest people in my entire school. She didn't understand that stuff, and she couldn't get past me being a behavioral problem. She never knew her granddaughter was one of the kindest people I've ever met in my life because she was too busy trying to fix her with health food store stuff, like she tried to fix me. And my mother never lived long enough to see her great grandson, even though she could have if she had complied with doctors taking care of the diabetes ravaging her. I don't want to miss the opportunities to see how beautiful my children are.
My other kiddos were over yesterday, and I enjoyed them so much. Bunny and Spiderman are a blast together, and the hot chocolate after this was really fun. Bunny wound up with a tiny little Doctor Strange goatee around her mouth, should have gotten a picture.
Wow, got 8 hours again last night. Why don't I feel pleased?
click that cranky face if you need major diversion *now*
Got the scoop on the new server yesterday, no more towny, warp stores will be all different, I'll need to learn golden protection. There are loads of land claim servers using this, so learning something new is good. Who knows if I'll ever get prolific enough to handle other servers, but I don't see that before the year is out.
I'm really liking the being able to push through slumps on this gabapentin. The amount of sleep I'm getting is still back and forth with the manic swings, few nights ago was 5 hours tops for a couple of nights, then 6, and all that without naps, so getting back to a full night is probably a good thing. I miss the surge of boing on euphoric weeks, but if it helps my pain level to sleep, then LET'S SLEEP, by gummies.
In that quiet period where the bots have all gone off to crawl other blogs. If this were minecraft it would mean I could work without interruption. On blogger I am always in /gamemode 1 here in the editor. I don't notice the bots until I /gamemode 3 over to another place where I can watch them blink in and out with the people.
Had a great talk with psyche guy yesterday about going full blown hypomanic this week. I usually just float in a euphoric luvfest, but this one twisted into a massive flameout and I have eaten numerous heads without a single feeling about it. Pure animal. If I were someone's pet, it would be more adorable, because I'd be furry all over and have a tail and this would be the perfect time to post pix of the evil pounce thing. Funny how it's not adorable when humans do it.
This is where the last, what, six or 9 months of blogging kicks in. It's all out here. Every shred of my personality, confessions galore, warning after warning... This is aspienado dealing with a week of very high pain spikes (cervical, another MRI being scheduled) and bipolar and doing my best to work through this as honestly as I can. No head meds, no street drugs, only two cups of coffee a day, I don't smoke, no alcohol, just me and my head for 12 hours a day. I set my psyche guy scheduling for every two weeks through March instead of just a once a month touch base. Whatever is going on needs a little more supervision.
I do love my head like this, though, it's helping me make some executive decisions I otherwise have trouble making. I'm a very indecisive creature, was hammered into my head throughout childhood to put other people first, and that has definitely shown up as a consistent problem trying to go more public. The people who keep an eye on me are very patient, but after several years of watching me fumble and stumble my way through defining and redefining the word 'friend' to myself in my head, several have stepped up in the last few months and very bluntly told me to just stop. My focus had gotten so entirely lost over the holidays that I was clearly off track. Like this. Yes, that is an evil bunny. He will eat you. Look at the red eyes.
I wrote a bunch more stuff here and then deleted it all. (You're welcome.) I've only spent months writing out my angsting and confessions, if that's meaningless to some, so be it. No one ever said someone owes me reciprocation. Whatever that problem I'm having in my head is all about is exactly that- my problem. There've been plenty of times in my past that I was unable to reciprocate myself. I of all people should understand that. Doesn't mean I'm good with it, though. Gonna chuck this one over to the pain spikes and walk off. When it comes down to it, I know exactly what the definition of 'friend' is.
The description for this song touches me personally. "It broke me also seeing how John remained faithful to Sherlock, despite S saying that their relationship was just a lie. When everybody else doubted him, he was there, standing beside is friend and not letting the words throw him down. They love each other, they COMPLETE each other, and no one can deny it :)"
And this is my head. After one of the best winters I've had in over 12 years, this has been one of the worst weeks I've had in a very long time. I just want to say, if *I*, of all people, can publicly and very honestly blog through my real stuff, you guys reading this can make the step toward healing through your own depressions and addictions and sadnesses. Find a way. Get help. I've spelled out how. If you are hanging on and need to keep reading, here is everything on Pinky blog tagged 'depression'.
And quite frankly, I'm missing Merlin pretty badly this week. Just hanging out, waiting for the brain chemicals to lighten up, like you do...
Here we go, noticed the euphoria starting a couple of days ago. Remember my first one off meds? 12 straight days of barely any sleep, hardly eating, gurgling around in luv delirium like Colin in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy books. It got really weird. Went through another big one last spring. I can't help noticing as I look back that my euphorias seem to be directly related to emotional surges through new doorways of self-understanding. No idea if they are causal or symptomatic or a side effect or what. I know what's triggering the euphorias now, kinda laughable. I have bounced in an out of full menopause at least twice, according to my FSH levels, and every time I bounce back out I go into these wild floaty luvfests and my brain is the happiest place in the universe. It's like I'm soaked in ecstacy or something. One of the reasons I was approved to go back on very low dose xanax is so I don't float out into space again and stop eating and sleeping. So far so good.
lol, click for literal Valentine heart stuff
In the meantime, I'm crazy in love and prone to euphoric eyeball clawing and eating other people's brains (srsly, it's like luv mode and kill mode are the same thing, I can't tell them apart like this because I'm so deliriously happy), so I'm continuing the braincation from twitter in general. I'm much safer when Scott's home, he and I cracked up a few times last couple of nights over stuff that nearly baited me to pounce and delightfully chew a head or two, so if I'm not responding to being tagged, it means you live and breathe another day.
The smugglers rescued Holly's wayward present and got it to me yesterday (from Springfield to Springfield)
and once I had it I released the immigrants for some fresh air and light stretching. They were not pleased when I shoved them into fresh repack and through a stargate. I was not pleased when the gate tech dialed the wrong zip code.
So I'm keeping my eye on the probe sending telemetry back through the tracking system. They guaranteed 3 p.m. arrival. We'll see what happens. It hit me I might be breaking spacetime laws and if Holly gets caught in the flux, she might wind up in a cellular rewind and turn 29 again. Or 15. I have no idea how much that will freak Layla out, who I believe, incidentally, is a covert operative who frequently disappears on missions herself, so I might be crossing the wrong streams and creating havoc.
I couldn't help feeling yesterday that this isn't the greatest portent for my holiday slide going wildly out of control. It's typical that I start losing control in October, but this feels more like slamming around the log flume at Silver Dollar City than my time clock glitching out while the world blurs by. Maybe I'm just more aware of it this year, which would be a good thing, I would think.
We're getting Bunny in about an hour, so the rest of my day is allowed to go as chaotically off track as it wants, as long as the coffee and bacon work out.
I cannot get this song out of my head. It's been showing up periodically ever since that weird brazenly stupid day last month. I think I've about got the euphoria tied down to what triggers it, kinda funny actually. Anyway, I've gotta get the parts of my brain that still actually work ready for hours of busy Bunny day.
Now I know what those other people in the med forums were talking about. +_+ Nothing like waking up at 2:30 a.m. wondering what in the world is going on now, and then remembering all the needle test sites. There's no way I'm going back to sleep. Wo, loads of cool stuff in a search for Sally Stitch's leg. If you can't sleep, this is the jackpot.
Youtube land is making my coffee weird. It's waaaaaay too early for coffee. This is going to be a long day.
All this public bloggy stuff keeps pulling me through a soul dredge I never expected. I'm going into the sixth month now.
Sorry, just found my way back out of deviantart. I forgot to bring you back a surprise because I was deep in thought again. Besides wondering why in the world my lips are so chapped alla sudden this week, where the mystery smell in the fridge is coming from, and whether I was too hasty telling @bonenado I'm not ready for a new phone yet (because he ordered one for himself and nyahed me), I keep wondering Why Ukraine? I mean, has someone over there actually cracked the not so stealthy subtext I keep veering madly off into the last 5+ months? Or is this a bot thing? I was really late getting Pinky blog hooked into google analytics, but now that I've got about a month under my belt I'm able to cross correlate a few dots with statcounter (omg statcounter is soooooo much more efficient, ripping out my eyeballs endlessly clicking through the stupid GA menus because I can't get individual synopses in nice little packets imagine me dragging my fingers down my face making my eyelids look creepy), but I'm getting a browser on it, so not a bot.
Ooookaaaayyy, nearly dragging the laptop off the table to get more coffee because headphones still around my neck. Oh, so this is a thing now. There you go, guys, just got your Christmas shopping novelty item out of the way. I think they'd probably take off in the States if those were Baphomet horns because that's so ragey lately. I grew up with goats. The whole idiotic counter Christian movement using goat symbolism thing is so a thousand years ago, you guys know that, right? (He was their Chtulhu du jour, basically.) Anyway, cat ears. On your headphones.
I mean, not to mock your belief system, I know that's politically incorrect. It's just, I know you must realize the whole church and state thing gets tremendously blurred around Baphomet. I know some of you are brainwashed nearly from birth and can't go around telling people you've actually eaten a sacrificial baby because the Jesus freaks all around you really don't get why the other side of the world is calling our country Satan and you'd rather not get beaten nearly to death for wearing a Batman t-shirt in the wrong culty neighborhood (that happened less than 50 miles from my house a few years ago), but if you really wanna be anti-church/state thingy, keep in mind that the pentagrams around your necks really aren't any different from the crosses around theirs. You're all branded cattle from the perspective of the belief system I was raised in.
That is probably where the brazenly stupid thing just kicked in. You guys'll see some awesome brazenly when the book comes out. I cross so many lines that there's no way I'll ever be able to reset my life back to default.
It would be easier just playing a game of chess with me.
Let's see if I can find something to drag me back down out off this trampoline. There is a line in this song that is part of why I disappeared for awhile. ~metaphorically~ But trew.
This public bloggy stuff. Srsly. That was too draggy downy. I need something jaunty. Get it? Johnty.
I'm in one of my irritating moods where brazenly stupid kinda takes over and I have to be really careful not to be obvious because I'm probably already so obvious it's ridiculous.
This is the me that no one ever wants to play chess with again because I delight so much in dancing around mocking while I inflict death by a thousand cuts that some people quit before I even get to the checkmate part.
It's the me that leaves a wake of people cringing and facepalming in the trail of my blaze of glory.
The me who is oblivious to being an idiot lit up like neon because I'm busy getting lost in a meme search.
The me who dances around my head singing this kind of stuff....
LOL, you thought I'd stick a blaze of glory vid there... 😁
If y'all aren't using Kaspersky to protect your operating systems and devices, you should be, (I'm not being paid to say this)
because the Win32/KipodToolsCby malware is really super determined to get into your system. It showed up in January and a warning about it was updated at the end of March. You could go through this trouble, or you can trust Kaspersky to catch it and let you remove it with one click and do a restart until MS gets another update fix up. MS killed it for awhile (keep your computer updates timely!), but apparently it's back, so whoever made this one is one slick little piece of snot.
In the meantime, James Kahn invited me to like his new movie page on facebook. I don't know if he's a Lexx fan, but he found me a long time ago on twitter, so of course I jump when he DMs, lol.
I'm trying to get sleepy again. I don't think 5 hours of sleep is going to cut it today. Tenth day since the power surge started and my brain finally doth protest at the thought of more work at 2 in the morning after slamming through 10,000+ words over and over.
A person in the state of hypomania might be immune to fear and doubt and have negligible social and sexual inhibition. People experiencing hypomania usually have a very strong sex drive. Hypomanic people are often the "life of the party". They may talk to strangers easily, offer solutions to problems, and find pleasure in small activities. Such advantages may render them unwilling to submit to treatment, especially when symptoms do not impair functioning.
Yeah, you can see why I enjoy it so much. Diagnosing Mixed State Bipolar Aspergers
So starting to feel sleepy again in this state kinda feels like I had a reverse lobotomy, everything's still all there, just the energy level is draining out now, so I need to find a video and go lay back down before @bonenado gets up and makes coffee.
:edit: I did a vid rescue for 'Paralyzer Sherlock MV' and it's the first rescue I've ever done that has been blocked worldwide, which means that just having it on my youtube even in private sets my account on a precipice. I'd like to remain in 'good standing', so I deleted it. Sorry about that. As long as I remain in good standing, I think I can keep what rescued vids I've got in unlisted and wait out the claims.
About a week into the euphoria now. Have dropped 7 pounds, so I'm making myself eat. Actually slept last night for the first time in days so this morning is even more awesome. I wish I could stay like this forever, but it's time to prepare a controlled slide back down. Last time I was this high on my own brain chemicals was 6 months ago for 12 days. I know better now than to let this go another full week. Besides, I'm sure you're all getting a little fried out on Sherlock, so please excuse me while I stop splatting my brains everywhere and go do some laundry and catch up the Easter dishes. Hope you guys are having great Mondays. Did I mention mine is awesome? It's awesome. I love all of you. All.Of.You. I couldn't be higher if I were huffing a street drug cocktail through a homemade bong. Except I can still type.
My week continues to blur right by me. That's good, because I'm in a hormonal manic euphoria hell, exuberantly killing all in my path.
My theme this week is tongue in cheek while chemicals bathe my brain in a hate/lovefest. If Moriarty had been a woman in hormonal manic euphoria hell, Sherlock would have already been eaten for breakfast. Poor John would just have to blog about it.
