I suck at quite a few things. I try and inform myself about lots of thing and have an extensive library on most programming, dark arts, horrors etc. I’m a book nerd. But there are a few things that I need help with.
Budgeting. What the hell is that evil stuff. As a lovely member of the bpd crowd, I have the ability to spend every single penny I own on one shiny object. Then do without until money is replenished. I’ve never really been good at this stuff so my mum up until 2014 helped me with it as I couldn’t control it for the life of me. Its unyielding burn on the soul that I dont have this object. Then D came along and took it from there because she is good at it. Now I’m on my own again, it’s trying to learn a new skill.
Languages. I understand Dutch but I could get by. Half Dutch. Same with Welsh, French and Spanish. I would love to know one fluently, but I get deterred straightaway when people say you aren’t supposed to say it like that.
Social Skills. How to function in society without having the need to take fist full of pills every day. It would be nice to wean off them and then see how a few things work. So in the absence of that I feel ill-informed to function in society.
I did it. I managed to get up, have breakfast, two teas and a coffee and got dressed nicely for the consultant I saw at 9.30. Because they are building ( and god is a vengeful god) on the carparks the closest I could get was a 15-minute walk with a stick. I winched as every time I moved it felt like daggers. Got to K block to be told to go back outside loop around this building and be there. Looked a my watch. 9.20.Dammit Asked the guy to call the consultant’s office to know I’ll be five minutes late. Came out, a frikkin gradient and not in my favour! I stopped a few times but oh the feeling when you sit down is amazing. All your backbones melt away and you are hallucinating. I started getting anxious and angry with myself.
What if he won’t listen? what if he doesn’t know what he’s talking about? Little niggles popping me in the head. Finally, I was guided to yet another bad seat in what resembles a containment space. We made eye contact, well done, keep going. He confirmed some data with me, over twenty calls to the crisis team always make for great conversation. the fractured English was flowing. I then did what I didn’t want to happen. A goddam seizure. In the middle of a mental health assessment. I tried to deal with it as best as I could. I closed my eyes and covered them with my hands. I slowly started saying no repeatedly and just as all the periphery started turning black. I felt the fud of a hand on my shoulder, The doctor was asking what he needed to do, can he get me water, and things like that. 5 minutes and it was over. I blacked out but any for a few moments. My eyes were flickering in the back of my head but yeah that was too real.
Now this poor poor doctor, all of 25-29 years old had no clue what the hell he’d just seen. I just simply said, “Remember when you asked about FND? That’s some of the messed up stuff it makes me do, it is real and a very scary prospect. So we carried on talking about things, he loves fishing as well but hasn’t had the chance yet as he has only been in the UK for 9 months. We walked through the meds and I explained what is for what. We chatted about other stuff but didn’t realise the time when it got to nearly 11 am from 9.30 am. Which is odd as usually, it’s okay we will increase x and discharge. I’m pushing for an A.D.D diagnosis to go along with BPD, PTSD etc. Simply to be able to access resources faster. That, as I said, is a deal breaker. If they feel I have theN I can start lowering three-quarters of my meds and just survive on either a single pill from them. He said he’d call me on Friday after he’d spoken to his colleagues. Will be interesting. He suggested an anti-epileptic tablet but explained it isn’t like that.
So. I went out, I got to my appointment, I attended and engaged. I hid back in the car but then went straight to Doti’s house and sorted the dogs out. Ended up sleeping on the sofa for an hour and then got on with my charity homework. Then went shopping at Asda and succeeded!
In agony now and should probably rest tomorrow. See how the legs are.
It had been a few days since I did a proper post, so I thought, why not on this late summer’s day do a post despite taking an epic amount of medication, my brain would not sleep. Whether this is strike action because I didn’t indulge in any brain-appealing work today, I don’t know. It could just be insomnia. I can’t wait to find out.
I had the pleasure of looking after Doti’s house today, I was there from 8 am to 9 pm. It was nice, Ben was keen to show me Forza with his steering wheel and pedals in action. Just needs to set up the stream deck with his shortcuts. We had a talk about stuff for a while. Life stuff that we never talk about. It was good. Wholesome fun. Followed by him giving me his Liberty County role-playing moves on putting an IV line in my arm and then stabilising my heart after being shot. You know what? if it makes him happy then I’m happy. The day passed pretty quickly, did a few things like dishes and stocking up on the basics. It’s my day off tomorrow and Monday so will try and be productive with housing applications since the housing officer I have seems to of forgotten about me.
The motel seems to of taken in a few scruffy stoners who are huffing on the nitrous in the corridor. For laughing gas, they don’t laugh much. Must be a saying.
Delusional behaviour. So I’m not sure if this is most people but every few minutes a random story plays out in my mind. So I’ll think of something like ‘This person is annoying” but then turns into a 3 season epic movie in my mind where I do x, y and z. I then, for lack of a better term, zoom out and I’m back to normal. Seconds have passed but minutes in my mind. It is messed up. Like the hallucinations. “I need to finish writing this down or I’ll for..” The book disappears, hand still in pen mode. Gone. Or there I am watching this dance of people in front of me and I stand up to dance and it all goes away. Like living dreams maybe.
I think the technical word for it is separate. Then once the paperwork comes through and it’s all official with the courts then it’s Divorce. Unless someone contests it when the divorce paperwork comes through. I wouldn’t do something like that, would I? Not like someone went off and had an affair before the paperwork or even a notice of being divorced.
So for that to make any sense I’ll give you an exciting look at my marriage and personal life: Met in 2007 Together in 2010 Sort of, sort of not 2011 Together in 2012 Married in 2015 Separated in 2023
The longest relationship I have ever had actually. D had been married before, she had an affair with me and I cheated on what would be R’s mum with D. 2011 is and was the most fucked up year of my life, the lies I made, the things I did and the people saw. Madness. There was always one constant and that was D. She was pure in my mind, a candle flame that can’t be blown out because that would make the world a darker place. Day two of divorce she blew her candle out.
I should have been there more. I should have given her what she needed.
No one wins in a breakup. Well, maybe those with friends they keep in reserve.
So single. I’ve sworn off women for now. For a long while. I heard once was one year of a relationship is equal to one month of getting over. So we’ll go for 2012, 11 months to get over the relationship. That’s fair. About the same as the hospital said my recovery would be. I still don’t understand the recovery period. Does that mean that I am miraculously going to be able to walk without searing back pain? Oh, I was quite actually impressed. I went to the garage next door which has a shop built in, I was struggling with the basket, walking about. My back was in complete agony. I got to the till and I swear I was going to ask them for a chair. Thankfully the guy took my shopping bagged it for me and put the basket back. It’s things like that that help. I managed to get back to the motel, room and then I faceplanted on the bed for ten minutes.
I’ll have to have a look online and see if there are some exercises that I can do with my back or if it’s just keep walking till it improves. I do walk every day now. Maybe a gym with a running machine. I can hold onto the sides if I need to and then start at level one again and try. I’ll ask my social worker if they have any offers on gyms. Or a discount as I’ll just be using one machine. Oh yeah talking about relationships. Yup, this was the longest one. Since I’m 40 my options are pretty limited unless I make it big with Bitcoin, lottery or good looks & hypnotism. Of which I have none. So I’ll exist until Allah/God/Chukulu puts someone in my path.
Who am I kidding? A photocopy of D would be awesome. She was perfect and I lost her. Stupid body. God. I could do with a bottle of wine or two. Never thought in my life I would ever be craving wine. Most normal men crave beer, buy it, drink it, sleep. I wish it was simple. But wine is the weapon of choice. Or rum. Rum, I can drink from the bottle. Although is nicer with ice and a snifter of coke. Snfiter. Coke. They probably belong in a sentence somewhere but not here, I am not a snifter of coke. Never have, never will. Pharmaceuticals is a different game. That is one that I abuse with hilarious consequences. And it’s all legal as well:
Risperidone, twice a day. Sertraline, two in the morning. Promazine, four times a day. Procyclidine, twice a day. Propranolol, three times a day. Cyclizine, three times a day, Pro Banthine, four times a day, Codeine, up to four times a day as needed, Pregabalin, three times a day Diazepam 5mg, once a day Diazepam 2mg, three times a day So 31 tablets. In a day. #FML
Sorry for the delay, as always, but things got a bit blurry on Friday and I don’t remember most of the afternoon. That weird thing happened again. I wake up and the world is spinning, voices are chanting like a Gregorian choir and I’m stumbling about. It feels like I’ve not taken my risperidone but I have. I filled a form in for the dr for an appointment, asking them to increase the dose to see if that works but I was unable to make the appointment so I canceled it. I took an extra dose just in case that was the problem.
I went on with my day, doing work bits and bobs, tidying, and such. Then I noticed the chanting or humming in the background. I got in touch with D and she said to take the PRN meds and that she will get the kids so I don’t have to drive. I never drive when I’m like this. Especially not with the kids. And that ladies and gentlemen is the last thing I remember of that afternoon. I awoke on the sofa, confused as hell. D had ordered a delivero food shop, fed the kids, fed the dogs and I simply can’t remember. Maybe I was asleep and didn’t realize it. Anyway. Missing time is never a good thing and freaks me out. Have you ever seen the movie Click or the Butterfly Effect, those terrify me. One minute you are here and then suddenly 10 years have passed and you don’t remember any of it. Argh. Probably why it was hard to deal with Dad’s dementia.
The kids and D went to see Super Mario Bros. D thought it was live action but alas no and returned to messaging me through the film. The cinema was pretty empty so B was ok with the misophonia thing and could move around to different seats. I stayed at home, because, well I suck at the moment.
D said something odd to me last night which I’m mulling over, have been all day or since she said it really. I’ll continue to mull.
I found a list of different interesting things to fill in here when I’m struggling with thoughts. Cheating but more help than cheat.
I’m still tired. I managed to drop off around 5am on the sofa surrounded by dogs. I’m shattered but it did the trick, I didn’t toss and turn thinking of things, I just passed out and had normal dreams. I’m regretting it now because I’m so tired. It’s hard to explain the level at which I cannot be bothered with thoughts while I try and sleep. I can lay there for hours just having someone run a commentary on my whole life and how much it sucks right now with the chronic pain stuff mixed with some mental health issues.
So back to the title of the post.
I have a bag. It’s blue. It contains EVERYTHING.
It’s my grab bag for when I leave the house. It has everything I need for emergencies that might crop up while I’m out. It’s a security blanket and makes me feel better having it near. So what’s in it?
Flashlight Tile Tracker (hooked up to the house Alexa so D can find me)I Pens & Notebook Medication to last a week (in a pin code bag for safety) Story Cubes in a handmade pouch (these have saved my brain so many times) Surface Pad with charger Multi-Purpose Tool Crystals the kids bought me from a cave Wipes, face mask, and alcohol gel Unopened vape pen Plasters Blue inhaler Powerbank and cables Pen drive
That’s about it. Some personal stuff in there as well for good measure. But it’s enough bits to get me through any problems I might have when I’m out of the house. When being an operative word here.
