Stupidity Tries; Everything Means Nothing to Me

Incidentally, I read recently that there is to be a new Elliott Smith themed podcast. I am not interested enough in podcasts at this point to dedicate myself to listening, but I was pleased and intrigued to find out this information. Perhaps I will listen to some podcasts on my ill-advised trip with my mother to Colorado this weekend. One that is also ill-planned, as they called me several weeks ago to let me know the departure times I purchased were no longer available and I still haven't called to set new ones. This is something I will do tomorrow- is something I have been telling myself for about a month or more? I don't think I was drunk when I planned this- but maybe I was?

It's 11 am and there is a fine gray mist falling dreamily over the world. The only part of the world that is visible to me, anyway. The mist and I are all that exist in this quietly dripping landscape. The only sentient things, anyway. Whether trees can feel and think is something I debate with myself and at the moment I have decided they cannot.

The trees quietly ponder whether I am as capable of thinking and feeling as they. 

I am not. 

I do not have the emotional depth of a tree. 

I do feel that I could sleep forever, right now. Not in a suicidal way, but in a blissfully languid way. The manifestation of the over-cast sky as the action of a person. A tribute to the calm gray mist- to sleep forever. I wonder if that could be my afterlife. A never ending dream wouldn't be such a terrible thing to move on to, I think. I'd be slightly more inclined to suicide perhaps, if I could foresee my next stage as a long sleep. A death as inconsequential as my existence will likely be.

I have identified another slightly problematic trait in my being... Which is that I find some people completely and inexplicably charming. Absolutely captivating. It's far too easy for me to fall in love with someone based on just the slightest amusements their character provides and completely ignore their faults.

I can hear birds chirping but I subscribe to the theory that anything I cannot see at the moment is not truly real. Even the things I can see may not be real. I have always liked the idea that when I blink the world dies and everything refreshes as my lashes rise. A number of people, countless to me, gone and then reawakened every few moments- to a life in progress. I may just like the idea of being disruptive on a global scale. Perhaps one of the few things I have in common with President Trump.

I am not entirely sure if I took my medication today. I could count them, I suppose, but I had imagined I did and I marked it off on my phone. Still, there were more antibiotics than there should be, so I am afraid that I fucked up somewhere. I've had a dreadful number of pills to consume lately because I recently, finally, had all 4 of my wisdom teeth removed. I suspect that I may have developed a dry socket yesterday, but I am trying not to think on it too much. I finally allowed myself the burger I had been craving for a week since I figured if I was fucked I might as well go all in. I don't know if that's a healthy approach to life. I tried to thoroughly clean my mouth out afterwards, but I find even the most basic anatomy quite confusing. I don't like the look of everything- all slimy and pink, none of it ever seems quite right- so I am afraid I don't know how effective my efforts were. I can only applaud myself for trying. 

And I will.

Because I had a panic attack yesterday and I was quite annoyed that it should pop-up to disturb the regular course of my day when I am on medication. I have been for perhaps two weeks? Maybe we're getting to three? I will be seeing the psychiatrist again when I return from my trip. It will likely be a much needed visit. Although, I have considered, that after having 4 teeth pulled, being stuck in a small space with my mother for 4 days cannot possibly be as harrowing an experience. I LITERALLY just had teeth pulled!! Which is like the expression of extreme discomfort all things are compared to- so I have to be slightly more capable of handling the situation now. But- PANIC. Yes, it set in while I was watching It Follows, which is, as far as teen horror dramas go, not terrible? I haven't seen a lot of teen horror, so I don't know if I'm a good judge. I also can't take teenage lives seriously, which made me far less empathetic to the threat of them dying. I was as deadened to them as they would be to the world once they were sexed to death. So, relatively speaking, what I was doing at the time had no bearing on my emotional state- but I was pulling out hair for a considerable amount of time. Trying to find the one that would make my head feel normal and everything go away- and I considered whether that might be a compulsive thing? Probably not enough. I'm so close to so many more interesting problems than just "clinical depression" but still so far. I'm a little ADD, my psychiatrist says, but maybe the lack of focus is the depression, and anyway, we agreed I'm not bad enough to need medication for that. I might have mood swings, but if I'm not staying up for nights on end who cares if I have extended periods of erratic (and sometimes erotic [I'm so sorry, that was terrible and gross]) behavior? Even the anxiety isn't quite enough of anxiety to be treated on its own. All that stands out is the good-old stand by of depression. I guess I didn't tell her about the brain worms- but really, who would? I probably should. I probably should this next time. I don't want to keep having hair pulling episodes.

This also made me realize that I need far more physical affection than I am currently receiving. I feel wholly detached from human beings. I don't know how to be with them. I want to be embraced by them and I want to be able to physically feel that warmth of acceptance. I could probably get that from Myex, but that seems like a weird crutch...so I don't know.