March 28, 2003

• Bummed out…
  Depressed…
  Manic…
  …or what???

  
  

  WTF!?
  Shit.  I’m used to derangement.  I’ve had occasional times of weird brain chemistry throughout my life.  I have learned to recognize the dangerous onset of a manic phase and have learned tactics for lightening depression before it plunges to a suicidal level.
  

  Reality testing has become a routine for me.  When I’m not in my “right mind”:  when I notice bizarre mentation or unaccustomed, unaccountable feelings, or if someone close to me points out that I’m not my usual volatile, irascible, but generally rational self, there is usually some past experience on which I can draw for insight at least, and sometimes even for a remedy.

  
  

  If I’ve ever been HERE, in this frame of mind, before, I don’t recall it.  This one is new, and I don’t even have a ready name for it.  I feel mildly pissed off and bummed out, and maybe the world news and some household hassles can account for that at least partially.

  
  

  But why won’t my mind hold STILL?  Sure, there have been times when my ADD seems to flare up and I flit from one idea to a new interest and on to the next enthusiasm in a flash, but often that is accompanied by an elevated mood, not this pressured and DOWN, grinding grumpiness….

  
  

  Aaah… well, either the old tactic of pouring it all out and seeing what it looks like lying there on the page, or those first two cups of coffee, or the passage of some time and/or a moon or a planet or two, had some effect.  I still feel kinda dull and foggy in the head, but I’ve stopped trembling and grinding my teeth.  Attention is still flitting around, but there’s nothing new in that….

  
  

  Well, I guess I’ll live.  I just managed a brief sardonic laugh at myself.  It’s a start.

  
  

  Work was a mixed bag yesterday.  I still haven’t found a single pair for earrings in the pile of lapis lazuli on my worktable, but I’ve managed to sort about a third of the pile by color and have discarded many bits that were all or mostly matrix.

  
  

  In early afternoon, I quit picking rocks and spread on top of them the Tarot cards for Dunazade‘s reality check on KaiOaty‘s site.  I spent maybe three hours with the headphones on and the shamanic sounds keeping me in Theta as I typed the reading.  It was a great one, a glimpse of a fascinating person during an interesting, pivotal time in her life.

  
  

  When I was done, I clicked “add image” to sign it with my butterfly moniker, and lost the whole thing.  Everything froze.

  
  

  I took off the headphones.  I sat here and stared at the screen a while, waiting and hoping for a miracle.  Then I pulled myself out of the funk and restarted the computer.  While it was coming up, I broke the news to Greyfox and told him I’d be here for at least another hour reconstructing the reading before he could use the computer.

  
  

  Back in the headphones, I think I did an adequate job.  It worked, but it truly didn’t sing as the original had.  The message was the same but the delivery was a bit flat, I thought.  They can’t all be masterpieces, I consoled myself.  Oh how I hate delivering less than my best, but with nothing for comparison how can there be a “best”?

  
  

  This morning, local, national and world news provided an interesting mix of things to think about:
  
  A local woman, fatally stabbed in face and chest, lived long enough to identify her 27-year-old son as her killer.  He’s a diagnosed schizophrenic, supposed to be on meds, but… he’ll probably end up in Alaska Psychiatric Institute, arguably a worse place than our local jails.

  
  

  Not very far down this highway through our valley, a badly decomposed body was found, probably female to judge by clothing found nearby.  Total mystery there, at least for now.

  
  

  Big fireball in the sky and chunks of meteorite hitting the ground down there in the part of the country where my daughter lives… and when I checked her Xanga site this morning I learned that her last post, a couple of days ago, reported that she’s in a severe fibro flare.  My poor baby….

  
  

  One of the latest military units to reach Iraq, armored infantry from Fort Hood, could include one of my son’s best friends.  Matt had just finished his training there as a mechanic on Bradley fighting vehicles, last I heard from him.  Wherever he, Joe, and Sephiroth are, my thoughts are with them.

  
  

  Hell, my thoughts are scattered all over the planet.  No wonder I’m such a mess today.

  
  

  I considered making this a private post, thinking, “It’s no concern to anyone but me.”  Then I looked over at the contents of my left module and asked myself when I ever let that stop me.

  
  

  Well, here goes nothing….

  • 12:19 pm
  • 6 Comments