improperlyhuman: (Default)
I became angry this evening while I was sitting next to the highway outside the laundromat and waiting for my laundry to dry. It was a surprisingly oblique anger, something I cannot remember ever having experienced before, something I struggled to recognize as anger. I suppose that is because anger wasn't the primary emotion. The primary emotion seemed to be a kind of confused, scattered anxiety.

There was something mildly ominous about the way the thoughts snuck up, as through cracks in my mind, forming and playing out, seemingly without my control. Yet they were so similar in content to my by now typical anxious thoughts about what people think of me. It was as if part of me (the body, perhaps) was relaxed while another part (the mind?) seemed to gradually succumb to these bitter fantasies of others' thoughts and the attendant worries. But perhaps the succumbing was not so gradual, but only gradual entered my consciousness.

And then, as I sat wondering at these destructive and random ruminations, and perhaps still partially "asleep" in my relaxation, something began to seep upwards though the holes that had been created by the anxiety-provoking scenarios: the incoherent, foreign-seeming anger.

I wondered that I should be angry about things that had very likely never happened, thoughts people likely had not entertained. But those things were not what angered me. The anxiety angered me. The stress, the wondering, the worrying, the insecurity. The lack of a comfortable groove to fit into, the feeling distanced from everyone.

It's madness. I scarcely know these people. These awful thoughts come to me unbidden. The really absurd thing is that I don't, in a sense, much care about what they think. I drop down into sub-conscious worry out of a sub-conscious need to cover all the bases, to keep myself ahead of the game, in a favorable position. Something that's not always possible.

Just a thought, right? I needn't dwell on it. It's just that I'm usually more or less conscious of descending into anxious thoughts and feel that I am directing them, however unwillingly. But not this time. Strange. I was comfortable and in a content and thoughtful mood...then irritated. In between, a blurry transition that I didn't quite get a look at.

I'm listening to some Tony Bennett/Bill Evans recordings as I type this. Why do I say that; scarcely anyone knows who they are. I hate it when people name their favorite artists in their profiles (especially when the list of artists is long). I think to myself, don't you realize that there are a million different music artists, and a ton of people will not recognize anyone on your list?

Anyways, the recordings made me sad when I first put the music on. I've wanted to be a pianist my whole life. I asked my dad for piano lessons when I was young, surely no more than 8 or 9. Of course I never got the lessons. I remember strategically not asking for other things, vainly hoping that someone would notice and decide to apply the saved money to piano lessons. I wonder if any of them ever noticed when I was a "good kid."

Oh, yes. The symptom. Another of the symptoms the rheumatologist warned me about. I'd noticed it before but paid it little attention. Swollen joints. My ankles and my feet look swollen. I can't think of what may have caused them to swell. On one or two occasions, I've felt a strange, sharp, burning pain in my ankles. Last night, my right ankle fell asleep despite my not having it in a position favorable to falling asleep. I was simply sitting in this chair.

The swelling is subtle and unaccompanied by other physical symptoms; I struggled to feel confident that I was actually seeing swelling. Well, I took pictures on Obamaphone 2, so the doctor can decide.

I sat outside the laundromat for a while, and, staring at the cobbled pavement, visualized what would happen if I had lupus, got sicker, began to deteriorate on my way to dying. Such morbid shit is not uncommon with me.

I came across another good editing project based on Google Docs. So I finally got a Google account today. I signed up in the library. I had planned out a way to get around the phone verification, but I didn't need the plan. Though it did not work before, I signed up as a teenager and, as the online tip promised, was not asked to verify my account. I think a Google account that I created at the library's IP address, without my real name, age, country, or other identifying information attached, that I intend to use only through Tor, is a sufficiently safe setup.

Look at all this trifling bullshit I'm going on about. I'm in a strange mood this evening, I suppose.

Summer is here and it is a horror. The heat never lets up inside the apartment. I can't afford to run the air conditioning for very long, and it is during the day so hot outside that opening windows makes the apartment hotter if anything. That would all be endurable if only I could freely open the windows at night. But with nightfall a wild and alarming variety of insects show up at the windows. Unlike the increasingly common spiders, the small specimens cannot coexist peacefully, for they cease their mad whirling about the light fixtures as soon as I turn the lights off and begin to hop on and off my legs, preventing sleep.

The day before yesterday, I entertained my second large specimen, a creature I at first mistook for another unholy-sized cockroach. I was using the bathroom when she crawled in, huge and copper and attention-grabbing. My sounds of frustration morphed into sounds of disgust and horror as I saw her suddenly take flight just inside the bathroom door as she came towards me.

In the next hour or so I spent trying to catch her unharmed (her speed was not so hideously great as the giant cockroach's had been), I decided that she was some sort of beetle. Lacking the long, monstrously waving cockroach antennae, she was not so unpleasant to behold, and I noticed the richness of her copper color.

My diet is proceeding thus: I have (or rather, my metabolism has) reached the point at which I simply won't be bothered to eat so much, yet what I do eat seems, by the hunger pangs, insufficient.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
OkCupid is not the place to find butch lesbians. When the most attractive person you've come across is someone who has apparently medically transitioned, you know it's time to take a break. That made me feel really down :(

I've got some philosophy of science books I've been meaning to read. I know I'm going to have trouble focusing on them, however. That's ok. Everything's ok. I'll just read the sentences over and over again until they stick. Check out my life hacks.

Ah, summer. Spiders taking over the bedroom. I've never seen such clumsy spiders. One just fell off the little ledge of the runner that's at the base of my bedroom walls. The carpet is the perfect color for hiding the little brown bastards. One keeps running around me instead of going off into a corner like spiders normally do.

I'm halfway through The Haunting of Hill House and almost nothing has happened! The characters behave bizarrely, switching rapidly from laughter to terror.

I just had a thought: maybe part of the reason that I struggle to focus on reading is my relatively newfound lack of patience with bad writing. Most things I read are verbose, and it seems that quite a few authors are bad at explaining themselves. I'm probably picking up on this more now that I'm an editor.

I'm cleaning up the kitchen and bathroom much more often now! Good show, improperly. The next goal is keeping the bedroom clean. I always have books scattered all over the floor.

I've learned to pay little attention to people's dating advice/discussion online. I thought that people who are more experienced than me might have some good insight, but a lot of it doesn't apply to me. This is true of advice in general, actually. Even when people ask for advice, I see others not really advising on what's been asked about and instead projecting some shit on the asker and advising on that. Everybody seemingly just talking about themselves when you get down to it.

Oh shit, it's past midnight.

Another reason I stopped paying attention is that the behavior they talk about makes people in general seem awful. I can do without that.

When I have anxious thoughts about the impression I've made or will make, I tell myself that whatever I'm worrying about is ok. I mean that I think the words explicitly, in the moment, right after the worry enters my mind. It's such a simple thought, but it works.

It's ok to have misinterpreted that message as interest. It's ok that that person is slightly irritated with me. It's ok to contact people and get no response. Sometimes I'm kind of side-eyeing my oks, like "is that really ok?" Well, dammit, it has to be ok because the alternative is anxiety, and that's not ok.

You know, it's hard to have no primary relationship. But it's also ok to not have one.
improperlyhuman: Burgendy text on black background: "Promoting Commodified Sex Positive Is Not Sex Positive" (pic#8372521)
I've got it. It's lifting weight on insufficient sleep. That's what is sucking the life out of me.

I'm going to turn hetero so I can date Jason Mewes. Like omg. These lesbians, I can't. Won't date womyn who don't have a career because she wants someone who can afford to go on road trips. Road trips.

And what is it with class-privileged, white-privileged people and traveling all over the world? Stay your ass home.

improperlyhuman: (Default)
I didn't really feel fatigued today, but I did feel a bit weak when I was lifting. Then it hit me: what if I made those spectacular gains (squatting up to 140, rowing 65, deadlifting 165) not because the caffeine restored my strength, but because of the caffeine itself? What if it acted as a performance enhancing drug, and that's why I can't lift as much even though my fatigue is mostly gone? Hmm.

I am so freakin understimulated.

99% match in my visitors list on okc. Asexual, agender, and non-binary. And in Germany. All my best matches are in freakin Europe!

Shit. I can't pay my energy bill.

I got a response from the editing outfit I applied to. My editing sample was rejected because of one punctuation mistake. This does not bode well. I'm an editor, not a proofreader. If they are expecting perfection, that's gonna be a problem.

I don't wanna go to bed. I never want to go to bed. Another exciting thing that happened day before yesterday was that my book Working the Organizing Experience arrived. I've wanted this book for at least a year. It's about a therapeutic intervention for "autistic," "psychotic," and "schizoid" states and posits a failure to bond in infancy as the cause of these states. Me being a diagnosed schizoid, I wanted to see what it was about. I was somewhat disappointed to see that it's of a psychoanalytic bent. And the writing is not good, like verbose ivory tower not good.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
Such an exciting day today. I got another good work prospect. The client sent me a grammar quiz created in Google Forms, but I wasn't able to fill it out because Google wanted me to sign in. I don't have an account.

So I tried to create a Google account as safely and anonymously as possible, but I found out that Google accounts must be verified. No way in hell I'm giving Google my phone number. I spent a lot of time looking for workarounds, then I finally just typed my quiz answers into a text document, and it seems that the client accepted that.

I was quite excited to get email notification that someone had messaged me and expressed interest on one of my dating sites (one of the good ones). And a vegan! And one who didn't appear to be dolled up in femininity at first glance. I was over the moon.

Then I looked at her picture and freaked out. She looks a lot like the caretaker at the womyn's land I visited last summer. She lives in the same state! Has similar physical stats and the same shortish brown wavy hair.


I had to step away from the computer for a bit. The womon I met has (or had?) a girlfriend and my phone number, or she did at some point at least. Her contacting me on a dating site would just be too creepy. And neither of us have paid accounts; she sent me one of those pre-composed icebreaker thingies, so she couldn't say anything specific.

But it's been so long since I saw this womon, and I pay so little attention to faces, and Europeople look so much alike to me that I couldn't be sure that she was the person. I finally calmed down, came back to the computer, and took a closer look at the photo (I'm always hesitant to look too closely at photos on dating sites). I'm 80% sure she's not the same person I met on womyn's land.

I also finally read the profile. A pantheist, eh. I prefer non-religious lesbians but I looked it up. That veganism is everything to me. I also found a way to contact her off-site! So I sent her an email.

As religions go, pantheism seems not crazy, even tolerable. This is my resource: https://people.wku.edu/jan.garrett/panthesm.htm#pwhat

Actually, I'm not sure it even counts as a religion. Well, I haven't finished reading the article and I'm sleepy now, so I'll go into my thoughts about it tomorrow.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
I'm almost back to normal! I did exercise today, but still no incapacitating fatigue. I began to get a bit tired in the early evening, but I didn't feel nearly as bad as I've been feeling.

It feels so good to be able to do things, to think, again, that I've been content these past few days to do household chores even! Normally I can't be bothered regardless of how good I feel. To be able to go about, to achieve things, to experience being alive while clear-headed, is wondrous.

I do feel like something of a dumbass, albeit somewhat tentatively. Since this came about without any medical treatment, the most likely cause is Vitamin D3 deficiency. A simple thing to solve, something I should have solved when my primary care doctor first told me to increase my dosage. Alas, I've apparently had to increase it by 4 times as much as what the doc advised. I've been taking 500% RDA since I saw the rheumatologist.

Someone contacted me on OkC to rant about queer politics XD. I don't at all mind being a magnet to such people.

Now that I'm feeling better, I'm excited to start living again. I applied to another online editing outfit that pays pennies. Having earned a decent wage so often now has spoiled me somewhat; I'm terribly hesitant to offer my services for the low prices such businesses offer and resentful that I have to resort to them. I am, however, in an extended dry spell, so I may as well spend part of it earning a little money (and experience) rather than spending all of it earning no money at all. I just need to save up a bit so that I can move away. I've less than a hundred dollars to my name at the moment.

My diet, my decreased reps, or both seem to have worked; my jeans aren't as tight as they were. Still, my ass and thighs are bigger than I would like them to be.

OkC users have to pay to search by dietary preference, and my A-List subscription expired, so finding a date isn't going well and will take a lot of work (combing profiles).

Ok, well. Just found me a demisexual. Gotta go look that up now.

Demisexuals may or may not be interested in sex. Wow, that's helpful. I wouldn't bother with this shit if it weren't so hard to find me a vegan. I don't understand the need for a whole category for people who only feel sexual attraction in the context of an emotional bond. That doesn't seem uncommon. Anyways, this user isn't into hippies, so I guess I'll pass. I'm a hippie according to my idea of a hippie, but I've no idea what she thinks a hippie is. Useless profile information.

Next user has herself listed as both lesbian and bisexual. And gay!

So I'm having to choose people to click on based on pics (which I loathe doing) and match %. I'm just picking anyone who doesn't look gender-conforming.

Shit. Found one but she's in France.

This blog substitutes somewhat for talking to people. Sometimes I never want the post to end. But I'm trying to waste less time.

improperlyhuman: (Default)
A crazy thought went through my head: what if I'm over-exercising? It's crazy because I don't exercise very much. 25 measly minutes of fasted cardio 6 days per week. 1 hour of lifting three days per week (with 3 minutes of rest in between sets!). And a few hours of walking each week. This is nothing!

But I acted on my crazy idea. No fasted cardio and no walking today. I did, however, do some chores (cooking and laundry). And I felt pretty good today. I still felt the need to lay down for a little while, but I didn't go to sleep in the middle of the day, and I didn't have much trouble getting up. Most importantly, no brain fog!

So what gives?! Is my body, my love of which I so recently professed, such a piece of trash that it can't endure a little bit of exertion? Am I still not getting enough protein?

Maybe it's not the exercise. I've been waking up feeling tired, but I felt ok when I woke up this morning. This was after lifting last night and, obviously, before I'd had a chance to exercise today.

I'm going to not exercise again tomorrow and see what happens. Maybe. I don't know what to do at this point. Maybe the fatigue is some kind of stress response. I did decide last night to not cycle today; maybe knowing that I wouldn't have to do fasted cardio increased my energy somehow. I do dislike fasted cardio...but that's only true since I've been feeling fatigued! I rather enjoyed it back before my digs burned down.


This is crazy. Some aspect of this must be all in my head.

Shut up

Jun. 7th, 2017 10:48 pm
improperlyhuman: (Default)
You can always tell when whitey wrote a story, can't you? They always gotta mention hair and eye color. Sometimes more than once. I'm like, all your other stories are about white people; just let me have this one where you aren't shoving race in my face.

But no. For some reason we need to know that the main character is a brunette with piercing blue eyes. I'm like, shut up. All your characters have melanin deficiency so who cares how it manifests exactly.

Back in the good ol' days, fiction was about what people did and not what they looked like. Nowadays we got reality TV in book form. And worse. At least reality TV has plots.
improperlyhuman: icon says: Radical Feminism: Females First. Always. (females first)
I tried Red Bull again today and it helped my fatigue. I guess I just can't use it all the damned time.

Today I asked someone a diet question on Reddit and received a reasonable and respectful answer. <- That's me focusing on something positive.

I've reconsidered my diet because I'm afraid of losing muscle along with (or instead of!) fat. I think that a more modest caloric deficit would be better. Really, I'm flying blind here. I've requested some library books about bodybuilding, but what I really need is a trainer/coach.

In a way, however, it's kind of a relief to be unable to afford that; I can decisively give up on professional services without another thought. Like PDiddy said, more money, more problems.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
I keep finding these little itchy bumps on my body, and I still don't know what to make of them. They go away in a couple of days, then I find one or two more.

The apparent respite in my fatigue was short-lived. The weird thing is that I seem to be able to hold the fatigue at bay with exercise—workouts or chores—yet I begin to feel tired shortly after I stop.

I want to know what the hell is going on, and I have to wait two and a half weeks for my next rheumatology appointment.

Oh shit! Just remembered that I was supposed to go for a walk today. Well hell. I'm burning too many calories anyways, so missing one day won't really hurt me.

Today is only day 2 and I'm already ambivalent about this diet; it seems almost too much to endure what with the fatigue and all. I said the same damned thing the last time I tried to diet. Although I've tried this and found it didn't help, I still have the sense that eating more food would make me feel less tired.

And another thing...I don't really want to be thinner. I want it but it's not super important. I'm on this diet because I hate abandoning my goals. I don't like to give up. I don't know why sticking to a goal for its own sake seems so important. Kinda crazy, isn't it?

I put in a lot of work proposals today and it took so much effort. Can't work without energy and can't move away without money. I think that there is a chance that I'd miraculously get well if I moved away. Maybe I don't feel depressed because all the depression is in my body. If that's even possible.

I have continued to work by myself on psychosocial problems. Day before yesterday, I made a thread and once again had to abandon it due to unsupportable anger and frustration over one or two of the responses. This is a very obvious pattern and it's past time I examine it. Well, the result of my examination is quite ugly.

I decided this evening that there are two main phenomena at play in these situations: lack of social connection and frustrated entitlement.

The latter seems the less serious issue. No matter how nasty I see people get, no matter how foreign they seem, no matter how boring they are, I cling to the expectation of social interaction that is (as I've written in my little journal sitting here) smooth, respectful, focused, and enriching. So when the hiccups, the misunderstandings, the disagreements, the seemingly stupid questions and obvious observations, the assumptions, the derailments inevitably happen, I cannot endure these things.

I could probably learn to take these things. I could, for example, go back and force myself to read through that thread, telling myself that it's ok to be angry and frustrated but that these bumps aren't the end of the world.

Far more hopeless is my lifelong lack of social connection. I don't know whether I am missing something that other people have that attaches them to others or I'm just in the clutches of a lifelong habit. But I think that every time one of these unpleasant things happens, justified or not I see another nail in the coffin that holds my social life. I see another piece of evidence that I can never convince anyone of anything, can never have any but the most basic of my perspectives understood, can never be taken at face value, can never escape the random little moods and hangups of others (yuck). Can never be on the same page, ever.

But I don't really have adequate evidence of those things since I've begun coping with the emotions by abandoning my own discussions. There are some sixteen other responses that I've not even read because avoidance, withdrawal, giving up, forgetting the whole affair, seems the only way for me to modulate my emotional response. My response is always intense, but that's because, I think, I've little social experience to ground me enough to modulate the intensity.

In my family, there were no discussions. There was no talking through disagreements, no voicing my opinion. It was my dad's way or the highway. My dad lectured, and everyone else kept quiet and listened or risked a blow. So no grounding social experience in my childhood to show me that these disagreements and things were no big deal, no experience handling them properly.

Then I spent most of the rest of my life never really talking to anyone, and disagreeing and explaining even less, so no experience there. Very little experience seeing that the world wouldn't end over a disagreement. Very little experience feeling myself understood. Where those experiences should be, deep within me, supporting my current experiences from my core, there is a void.

The thing that makes this more hopeless than the sense of entitlement is the lack of an immediate solution. I can work on my entitlement right away (I think), but there is nothing I can do to make up for 36 years of barren social life. I can only try to create that life now. But it seems so late. And the only way to make it to those grounding social experiences is to pass the gatekeeper social experiences: the acquaintances, the getting-to-know you phase, the first dates, the uncertain approaches, the mis-steps, the randomness. All the things I hate the most about socializing. It seems so much work. And I'm not even sure that would fix the problem. And my motivation is somewhat lacking because I know from long experience that I can just go back to isolation and survive.

And this is why I'm literally tired of being alive. It must be taken one day at a time. Right now looking too far into the future is the way of hopelessness. I feel like I can't be normal enough to deal with the small, auxiliary social experiences until I get that one deep social experience, but I can't get the latter without putting up with the former. It's a circle with no opening through which I can comfortably insert myself. The only proper entry point is childhood, and that's over for me, so I've no choice but to do it the hard way.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
Seems like my high-protein diet is working. Today was the first day and already I didn't really feel much fatigue at all. I was tired from yesterday's all-day shopping excursion, but nothing so debilitating as what I've been experiencing.

I've put myself back on a diet, one with which I am supposed to lose 1/2 pound per week. Not sure this is sustainable because I am quite hungry. No organic potatoes at the crappy local grocery store, and bringing some home with me yesterday would have been too much to carry, so I'm having 4 meals per day instead of the 5 I'd planned.

Although having to space my meals further apart is a pain, the number of meals is not a huge deal because I was able to expand the 4 meals to cover the calories of the fifth. The number of calories I'm supposed to be eating, however, feels a bit too low. Seems to me that I don't workout much, so perhaps it's the muscle I've put on eating up all those calories. Actually, I do need to eat something close to bedtime, so the number of meals might be a bigger problem than I'd previously thought. Perhaps I will put the wheat gluten and wheat bran together as a fifth meal. The gluten did not work so well in my evening stew, and I'm not really using the wheat bran except for a couple of teaspoons in my breakfast.

I had my first homemade burrito in forever and it was wonderful! It was just a simple deal with spiced pinto beans, iceberg lettuce, and store-bought salsa on a whole wheat tortilla, but I quite enjoyed it. I tried mixing the beans with wheat bran for even more protein and volume, but that didn't pan out.
improperlyhuman: (dark Mulder)
It's 3 AM. Today was grocery day and I was gone for literally 12 hours. Hoping to avoid passenger chatter, I took the earliest bus. More people than usual were riding, but, lo and behold! The ride was quiet. I was content.

I got held up at the diagnostics place because my clinic hadn't faxed my blood work request.

Vital wheat gluten was at the discount grocery store, so I made good use of my food stamps in the protein department. At the gourmet grocery store, I finally found some tortillas that don't have preservatives in them! Hooray. Now I can have burritos every day. I'm pinning my health hopes on this increase in protein.

Yesterday evening, I stuffed myself with a pizza that had an insanely thick crust, then rolled over and zonked out for a few hours. Woke up at 1 AM thirsty but also in need of electrolytes. My body told me that water wouldn't cut it. I went out in hopes that one of our three local liquor stores was open, but was disappointed. So I just had some chilled water (I usually prefer it at room temp; air force boot camp ruined cold water for me). I don't know what I'm doing now. I vaguely feel that I cannot or should not go to sleep.

Oh yeah. And the itchy things on my skin. They don't look like rashes, but the skin is red and there is like one bump for each spot. One on each arm, one underneath the right side of my rib cage. I think there was one on my leg too, but I can't remember where at the moment. Totally random.

Then I had something on the right edge of my tongue, like the irritation from eating sour candies, except I hadn't eaten any sour candies. The skin on my tongue is torn; I've done that before while eating tortilla chips, and I had some day before yesterday. I don't know what to think because these resemble two of the symptoms the rheumatologist told me to look for.

I guess I'll try to go to sleep now. Mildly excited to see how
much protein I'll be packing into a day tomorrow.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
The worries!

I should have gone to bed early so that I could catch the bus early tomorrow. My long-term client sends me work on the most inconvenient days. Please please please let there not be people chatting on the bus tomorrow!

I spent the whole afternoon sleeping and lying down due to fatigue. My fatigue is worse. I'm going to get my blood taken tomorrow.

I dislike the size of my legs but I'm not quite ready to stop the heavy lifting. First I have to find another program or a way to modify my current program.

For now the worries have been replaced by anger and frustration.

I've noticed that I have difficulty differentiating between similar emotions. I'm not sure whether I feel anger or frustration right now. Perhaps I feel both.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
It doesn't work anymore. For example, I had two Peanut Toffee Buzz Clif Bars and half a Red Bull yesterday, and I was still hella tired. But I dragged myself up for that workout anyhow. I had a double dose of Vitamin D3 today. Still tired. I suppose Vitamin D3 doesn't work so fast that I'd notice it in a matter of hours anyhow.

Good news, though: My concentration has much improved. Racing, anxious thoughts have decreased somewhat. It seems I'm able to read a bit again, so I've ordered my next selection of old school lesbian fiction: The Haunting at Hill House.

I'm trying harder to save up to move away, so I'll be taking the shuttle to go grocery shopping. Yesterday in the shower I suddenly saw that I'd be better off saving up the money I spend on the taxi service for some good earphones. On second thought, I think the best are Bose, and they cost like three hundred dollars.

I told the shrink my concerns about delving into my dysfunctional childhood, and that dissipated my hesitation quite a bit. We talked about it and it wasn't as big of a deal as I'd feared, largely because we didn't go into detail. These books on the topic, I'm about through with them because I can't strongly relate. My childhood didn't mess me up so badly.

I coulda swore I just saw little stars swirling around out of the corner of my eye.

I eat so much nowadays, it is ridiculous. Wouldn't it be funny if I put on so much muscle that I couldn't comfortably feed myself on food stamps? Ha.

The shrink was surprised when I told her that my parents were criminals. I think she thought that I came from money, lol. She said that she imagined that my dad was a successful businessman and ran a traditional family. Nope. Long ways from traditional we were. My parents weren't even married.

I feel at peace today. I really decided to stop worrying about what I might be missing and how weird I might seem, it is really setting in. Thinking it was just the first step; I had to let it percolate in my sub-conscious a bit.

improperlyhuman: (Default)
Felt great today and thought that my fatigue is finally going away! I cleaned the apartment a bit and did some laundry. Then I suddenly began to feel very tired this evening around 6 PM while preparing for my walk.

I went outside to see if I could still manage the walk, but I felt heavy, brain-foggy, like a zombie. I had a bit of Red Bull, maybe 1/4 of a can, but it did not seem to help. Eating made me feel a bit better (I'm amazed at the number of calories I seem to be burning nowadays, and I'd undereaten I guess), but not awake enough to go out.

I wonder if this month's decrease in protein has anything to do with my fatigue. Did my feeling good today have anything to do with this being my day off from cycling? I need answers, dammit!

I'm never going to find a vegan girlfriend. For one thing, I won't move to a more populous region. I resent so much my inability to safely go out late at night on my own when I'm in more populated areas that I can't bear to live there even for the many benefits.

It's those goddamned young men; they make the whole damned world unsafe. Ruining my life. At the most random moments I get hit with memories of being harassed and it kills my mood, I have to put together some on-the-spot coping tactic. It's so unreal, sometimes it just stops me in my tracks.

On top of that, I would have to think about it every time I wanted to leave the house late and felt afraid to do so. EVERY DAMNED TIME. The constant reminder may be even worse than the actual possibility of meeting one of them. Here I don't have to think about going out in the middle of the night, even down unlit alleyways if I want.

Which reminds me of some comment somethingsaudade whatshername made on a livejournal entry of mine that I think was about being harassed as well. I was angry but tried to reply civilly, and eventually I came to see that was actually repressing my anger. I've forgotten the details now; something about me feeling bad just because of the situation I had gone through last summer when I was homeless. As if that wasn't enough by itself!

No, it was the entry in which I said I didn't really care about the men for whom the Black Lives Matter movement was created. Haven't changed my mind on that one. There's a helluva lot more to my attitude towards men than being harassed or the stress of homelessness. Most of it comes from shit that hasn't even happened to me. I can see how men treat my sisters and the whole goddamned world while we're at it. That's why I became a radical feminist, in fact. Not my personal experiences.

And straight up telling me how I feel on a blog in which I've repeatedly complained about people guessing at how I think and feel. Goddammit.

Anyways. Yeah, I will probably have to choose (if I get any choice at all) between dating a non-vegan or staying single for a very long time if not forever. But I can't do either. I will just have to focus on something else to stay sane.

In the more immediate future, I'm going to have to get a doctor's note because I cannot work. Frustrating that I'll have to wait at least 4 or 5 weeks. Shit! Just remembered that I have to get my blood drawn again. If my blood work shows normal D3 levels and I'm still tired, dammit, that's chronic fatigue. That got me on record with this same problem a few years back, and I got the same thing from records in the clinic before that and in my college medical records too probably!

So I ordered my medical records from UCSC and saw some things the doctor never mentioned to me. No one had told me that I was obese, but there it was in my records. I hadn't known that I was obese. Is that the right verb tense? I should know this.

I didn't know how to eat right back then and could have benefited from some nutritional advice. They sent me to the nutritionist for hypoglycemia but not for obesity.

I Might Be

May. 26th, 2017 11:22 pm
improperlyhuman: icon says: Radical Feminism: Females First. Always. (females first)
Maybe I'm uncomfortable in sit-down restaurants and prefer to eat at my computer rather than a table because my family never sat down at a table to eat together all at once. We didn't have regular mealtimes either.

Maybe I'm terrible at keeping an apartment clean because I never had to keep a home clean. I wasn't ever given chores as a child. No one ever taught me how to clean a place of dwelling.

Maybe I have a poor sense of time because I had no schedules at home while I was growing up. I remember having a 9 PM bedtime for a while when I started school, but that didn't endure. School was the only place I had to be, and I had to rely on other people to get me there. I wasn't allowed to walk or take the bus despite my wanting to do so. At school I relied on the bells and never paid attention to time.

People in my house often stayed up rather late. I could hear them as I lay in bed. There were no nighttime rituals, no baths or stories, nothing to get children ready for bed. Maybe that's why I've had insomnia on and off during my adult life. Maybe that's why I struggle to adapt to a new sleep/wake schedule.

These are the things I've come up with while going through It Ends With You: Grow Up and Out of Dysfunction, a self-help book for adult children of dysfunctional families. Not too bad, am I? I don't get into abusive relationships, I don't have low self-esteem, I don't "solve" interpersonal problems with yelling and violence, and I don't smoke weed and drink alcohol every night. Alas, some of my siblings did not fare so well :(

So I think I don't really need to re-visit all that childhood drama. The shrink keeps tryna take me back. I just need to use the alarm feature of my cellphone, practice minimalism, get myself a chore schedule, and make sure I rarely have to get up early for anything.

Hallelujah. Tomorrow is Saturday, my day off from spinning. Being on that bike is so boring. I can see those beautiful abs coming in...and I'm decreasing the calories again.

improperlyhuman: (dark Mulder)
Yay I got my Tantus Silk today. It's small (like d=3/4 inch) but it did not go in so easily. And I was worried that it was too short and narrow. It is neither.

I did not have any caffeine today, so I was tired for the whole day, albeit not as tired as I have been. I discovered that being excited without caffeine is much less intense both physically and mentally. I also discovered that I'm a much weaker lifter without caffeine. It's a freaking wonder drug.

I'm too tired to go into details, but I discovered that I may have been more affected by my dysfunctional childhood than I'd thought. That made me feel like crap. I feel like I don't have the energy, the will to live, to fix myself more than I am trying to do now.

But these traits I found aren't so terrible. I make too big a deal out of it perhaps. I'm just tired and easily upset at the prospect of yet another obstacle in my path to a girlfriend. But at least half the population of this country grew up in a dysfunctional family, so people can't be too damned picky, can they?

Oh! And I watched Batman vs. Superman throughout the day today. It wasn't as lame as I'd thought that it would be. And Superman wasn't as much of a fag as I'd expected. I've been avoiding Batman movies because Michael Keaton is The One True Batman and all these other Batmans make mad. But Ben Affleck wasn't too bad. George Clooney was probably terrible.
improperlyhuman: icon says: Radical Feminism: Females First. Always. (females first)
Once again, the mailperson did not deliver my package. Like always, I got the little notice to pick it up at the post office tomorrow despite my being home at the time of "attempted" delivery.

I wanted that package so goddamned badly today, my internal organs are shifting in tortured anticipation.

I went to the post office and complained about it. Wasn't until I arrived back home that I re-noticed the doorbell outside the apartment building. The doorbell that does not work. I think the mailperson has been trying to ring the doorbell, and I, of course don't hear it and don't respond. My neighbor, however, has put a note up on the door indicating that all deliverpersons should knock. I've yet to hear a knock.

I hate the slumlord who refuses to fix my heater and rented me an apartment with a non-functioning doorbell. He didn't even tell me that it didn't work. I hate this apartment so much! WHY are there humongous cockroaches in a residential neighborhood?? Why is it so hot here, right next to the damned water??

Lovely day. Woke up too early again. My head still hurts from crying at therapy today. Couldn't find any good novels to read at the library. As in apparently every other library, someone has decided to categorize fantasy with science fiction. What are they teaching these people at library school.

This Red Bull seems to weaken my appetite.

I feel a sickness and a hopelessness deep inside of me. Womyn are being kicked out of "women's" homeless and DV shelters because they complain about the men who are now legally allowed to stay there. How did this happen?

improperlyhuman: (Default)
All that Vit D3 I downed last night seemed to have no effect, so I went out for another Red Bull. All this caffeine I'm buying is costing me a fortune.

I thought maybe it's all the B vitamins in the Red Bull that make me feel so much better but the Clif Bars contain no more than 10% RDA of each B vitamin and my food diary shows that I'm getting 80%–100% RDA of B vitamins not including the portion from the Red Bull and Clif Bars.

Being able to concentrate on reading feels soooo goodI finished reading Jung's Psychological Types this afternoon. I couldn't make heads or tails of most of it. I bet Jung was an Intuitive. Either the translator did a shitty job or the writing was Intuitive-opaque.

Deadlifted 160 this evening!
improperlyhuman: (Default)
Thought I'd be able to make it through the day without caffeine, but no dice. Thanks to me, the grocery store ran out of Peanut Toffee Buzz Clif Bars, so I ended up with a Red Bull from the gas station instead. I was afraid it wouldn't work, but it did the trick.

I finished We Too Are Drifting at the laundromat yesterday afternoon. It ended all of a sudden; I'm not even sure what happened. Seems like the protagonist let her young lover go off to college somewhere out of resignation, like she knew lesbians couldn't expect to stay together in a stable relationship. How sad :(
And what a strange, insubstantial book.

So, what shall I read next?

I sent off my enrollment form today. I'm gonna do that editing course.

From here it seems almost impossible that I'll earn enough money to cover my expenses and move away from here. I'm trying to psych myself up for a longish wait, a boring, empty summer and fall.

What if I open the bottle of Vit D3 and just chug a shitload of it at once instead of taking 1000 milliwhatever per day?? I wonder if that's safe. Shit, I'm gonna do it right now. I'm tired of being freakin tired.

Ok. Let's see how I feel tomorrow.

The author of Starting Strength said that weightlifting injuries are inevitable. What an unpleasant thing to read. Wasn't sure whether I was going to try to squat 140 tomorrow, but maybe I'll pass on that. How did I even get up this high? Seems like just yesterday I was barely squatting 100, and 100 still feels heavy.

Late this evening, I walked past a building that had a second-floor that suddenly reminded me of an episode of The X-Files. Such random connections I make. I started thinking about how, towards the end of the series, I really got tired of the mytharc and only wanted to watch the standalone episodes, especially the ones in which Mulder and Scully got close. I felt kind of dumb about it, I don't know why.

As I was walking, the reason for my preference suddenly hit me: the mytharc reflected something ugly about reality. The government screwing people over and trying to keep it hidden. As I increased my political consciousness, this theme became depressing. And OMG, Mulder and Scully spending like a decade of their adult lives alone? Sooo not right. Who does that? Ha.
Page generated Jul. 25th, 2017 02:43 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios