What the Deuce?

[Larry]

Sleep.
I think sleep will be will be the balance between ELL and the real world.
I think food too. 
Those of us who struggle with our minds are sensitive to the things we put in our bodies. Especially the crap we tend to stuff our gullets with. 

But I'll focus on mastering a strict sleeping schedule first.
Taking on too many projects usually results in a celebration my un- birthday with Alice and the gang.

Yesterday it was my turn to have "cranky pants".
I managed to keep my bull-excrement to myself, being acutely aware that it was a mood generated within myself and not a reaction to the poo flinging nonsense I dealt with just fine the day before.

The day started out just fine, though I did force myself to abstain from further fondling of the snooze button and drug happy a** out of bed earlier than I had been.
I went through my normal routine of listening to my meditations while rolling my smokes for the day and transfusing my life blood with caffeinated sin(I haven't started cutting back on the coffee just yet).

Then I went to my "business" desk and tapped in the entries to the checking register from the day before.

I started getting irritated with that damned budget again.

That train wreck is moving slowly forward, as I devote at least 20-30 minutes of my mornings to it's organization, but it is an all consuming endeavor, seemingly endless in it's intrusions into my consciousness throughout the day.
It's a daunting task finding unique, "differently abled" ways for myself, ad well as my wife, to follow and maintain a spending plan.

I don't know. Maybe all this anxiety runs deeper than mere finances.
I've been pondering it the last few days.

It might be, that somewhere in my mind, I fear that this medication will stop performing it's miracle.
That I'll be thrown back behind those insurmountable stone walls of my imagination. Trapped in a sunlit nightmare once again with no voice to cry out with.

It might be that I fear the loss of my new love of writing too.

Not really sure.
I get my head shrunk on Wednesday, so I'll run it past her and see what she thinks.


It's now Saturday morning and I have no memory of the day that I was writing about.
I'm sure that if someone were to remind of what happened I'd remember it, but as of right now, it's vanished like a ghost in the night.

I got into a fairly significant pissing match with my work partner.

I was calm, clear headed, and communicative in a way I've never been before.
 I experienced just the faintest trace of self-doubt and blame and was able to see clearly the argument I was in.

She is getting married on the 31rst of this month and is becoming more and more agitated as the day draws near.
I was able to see, from the very beginning of passive-aggression, to the final volleys of words, that her mood swing was not a result of any I had done or said, but an existing agitation being vented upon me.
I saw that it was unreasonable and unfair.
And I handled it "like a boss".

"Bridezillah" eventually extinguished the flames and put herself back together, but not without having scorched my peace, and broiled my nerves.

Immediately after the resolution of head butt-ings, I walked around the parking lot of the building we were supposed to be cleaning, hot boxing a smoke, letting the adrenaline dissipate, and congratulating myself for having handled a situation that I historically don't handle well.

The first thing I noticed was kind of a numbing film enveloping my brain.
Then I noticed that I was staring at nothing in particular and kept staring at nothing in particular no matter which way I shifted my eyes.
It was wholly involuntary, an automated reaction to a stimuli, that felt as if though it were a "physical" working of the brain...like switch had been tripped.
When I began to notice that the area I was in "felt" as if though it were different than I had seen just 10 minutes earlier, the word "dissociate" popped into my head and the first tendrils of anxiety began creeping through my chest.

And with the word "dissociate" came the thoughts that if there "are" alternate personalities camping out in my mind as my therapist has suggested, that this would be the type of experience announcing their arrival.
This thought provoked a queer mixture of dread and curiosity.

By the time we reached our next building the feeling had mostly faded and I called my shrinks' voice mail and told her what happened.

By the time I usually post my blogs at work, I had totally forgotten the activities and experiences of the previous day I was trying to share.
I. don't. like. that.

Anyway, that my blog and I'm feeling loads better.
I've got a ton of stuff to do today, including working on a story I'm trying to write....as kind of an experiment to feel out the frontiers of my writing abilities.