Manifest Absurdity

Day 162 sober, 167 lbs. I've been intestinally ill but hopefully it's passing. Trying to get myself back into being productive because the last month has been anything but. Perhaps the last two, even.

It's been difficult and I've felt lonely. I don't even like to write about it because just reading it feels so pathetic. But, the lack of any family or close friends who stay in my business is foreign to me. Even post family, I've always had close friends. The thing with ex-bff Grace (and just typing the "ex" there bothers me) weighs on me and I miss her, but I also still feel so hurt.

I really need to just start reaching out to more people. I had this great plan to do exactly that, but nothing tempts fate like a plan.

I'm also aware that I'm hypomanic. This is not good when there is a Nintendo Switch, I am learning. Mind you, I've got shiny hunting down to a science, blah blah blah. But, I've always known video games were brain eaters and time sinks. Until now, I'd done well to keep those things out of my life. Now, I just get lost in it. I use it the same way I used alcohol, i.e. to blot out my existence and live in the distraction. To be honest, it's not as satisfying.

Of course, it's the social part of drinking I miss more than anything else. It's always been that way. I love the effect produced by alcohol, but not nearly as much as I just love the bar life. I have got to find satisfying outlets that suit my extroverted nature.

I see people all the time online who are like "what are irl friends?" I shake my head and just chalk it up smugly to gen-z bullshit. Of course they don't have irl friends, of course they have social anxiety (hell, they never practice getting past it!), sick sad world, etc.. But, I find myself having sympathy/empathy for these people now, I mean, more deeply than otherwise. I find it completely insane that I am so alone in the world. I can't wrap my fucking head around it really. I mean, I guess I can... it's just complicated and sad.

And I already know that once I get out and start pushing the buttons and doing the things that I will feel better, and always quicker than I suspect. I'm just in a rut behind the holidays, illness, isolation, stress, and deep disappointments. Once I get some momentum, I'll start to be okay again.

Plus, a lot of that will be fixed because I finally, finally, finally, got health insurance stuff sorted (for the first time in, I don't even know). I anticipate having Vyvanse once my proper coverage kicks in on the first, and that really is a game changer for me. Adderall is just garbage (all of it probably is) and something has got to help me have a tiny bit of control of what I focus on. It's not enough to be amped up if I can't pick the focus of my energy. It's better than nothing, sure, but it's no way to live.

Also, gonna get a neuropsych eval done come April. Doc wanted me to have some testing done behind the head trauma last year (or last last year... well, both, come to think of it (and I am dumber behind it, I know). It will be nice to have some fresh paperwork since my last eval was a decade back. I anticipate my diagnosis remaining unchanged: bipolar 1, adhd, ocpd (probably with sides of depression or anxiety which I don't even bother to think about or even consider mental illness, tbh, so much as just the natural, reasonable, and expected result of living in society today) with the specific test indicating less capable executive function, memory function, and a lower IQ than ten years back. I'm extremely curious to see how my memory is doing, because it's a very real issue and seems to be growing.

And pardon the digression into psycho-babble-bullshit land (altho, if not here on tumblr, then where better?), I don't like to wear mine and find conversations overly devoted to psychology/psychiatry tedious. I also find that people prone to such discussions are often just as prone to using their conditions to excuse rather than explain. I digress, I just don't like to see people accept things about themselves that lead them not to try to overcome the thing so much as expect accommodation for their deficit. But, I'm kinda old school in that outlook. I believe coping is art, and it's a skill you have to practice.

Anyway, this one got away from me, but I've had a lot on my mind for a while now and I guess I just... needed to write something.

Oh, I got sidetracked, but wanted to add that I think Covid has kept me sober. Cause if that shit weren't every-damned-where at the moment, I think I'dda gave in and went to the bar. There have been many days lately where I've thought "well, if this is the sober life, you can keep it." I know that's wrong-headed, but that's also The Cycle. I hate to close n such an awful note, but it's true. I'm just lonely and it feels like... like... like what the fuck--or more specifically--who the fuck am I even living for? My late great-aunt said to me once when I was young that too much time alone isn't good for anyone. It's true.

Day 154 sober, 163 lbs.

Day 153 sober, 162 lbs.

Day 151 sober, 162 lbs.

Slept most of the day away. My schedule is turned around. Happened gradually, then suddenly a few days back. I had put together near five months of nightly sleep for the first time in *ever*. I'm still mostly on schedule, it's just flipped. I hope to stay up and push the buttons and do the things today.

It's cold as hell. Christmas was weird. Though I didn't leave the house, owing to sad-boy mode and game addiction, it was in the upper 70s for almost a week. Record shattering stuff. Weird.

Day 150 sober, 162 lbs.

Alright, new year, new resolve. I mean, same ole resolve, really... Just one of those days where I try and kick things back into motion and recapture momentum, etc..

Been lonely. I'd say it's been boring, but I don't really get bored (it's certainly not been exciting) I do get lonely though. I did make it through the holidays without a relapse, so there's that. And somehow, I've began the year 3 pounds lighter than I started this past one.

Day 120 sober, 168 lbs.

Um... Hell, I dunno. I talk to DHS today about getting on Medicaid which has been a years long endeavor full of boring details I don't even wanna think about much less inflict on anyone else. tl;dr: fingers crossed for health care.

Uhm. I gave plasma? I cooked something that wasn't Thanksgiving leftovers... I wrote (or rather, am writing... sorta)?

Day 119 sober, 168 lbs.

I've kinda skipped writing for a bit. I need to stay in the habit, though. I just kind of needed a break... I think. If not, I took one anyway. Pretty much just lived the lazy life playing Pokémon Brilliant Diamond. It's not like I had anything substantial to say.

I mean, I've kept up on chores, I haven't gotten fat, I haven't relapsed, I've kept donating plasma, I've been semi-productive.

Got turned down for the other two positions I'd applied for at the place I really want to work. Still not sure how my application packet and my qualifications didn't at least earn a single interview out of four attempts. I'm concerned there is something out there that I am not aware of that immediately disqualifies me. My friend AC that works there may be able to dig up some more info.

I finally got laid, some 36 year old rando from Grindr called Dex. It was nice, but nothing I'm likely to pursue.

Day 108 sober, 168 lbs.

Been caught up doing little else but playing Pokémon Brilliant Diamond. Was so caught up, I didn't even watch my sportsball stuff today.

I'm pretty far off the momentum kick. I'm somewhat okay with it, I guess. I'm enjoying relaxing and not grinding so hard. Being off the Vyvanse changes things, too, and not for the better.

Thirteen years ago today, my grandmother passed way. She played a large role in raising me. It's always a sad realization. I hadn't even thought about it until I titled this post.

Day 105 sober, 169 lbs.

Well, I skipped a couple of days. I just didn't have anything to say and was tired. Feel sorta bad about it, but feel sorta bad about not feeling that bad about it?

My momentum has been off. I gotta get back on the Vyvanse. I guess I'd forgotten how much effort it took to get ahead enough to do the things necessary to keep me sane enough to keep me ahead (or at least less behind). It's a coffee day for sure.

Finally back donating plasma again after the bruise has faded (with the help of a little concealer (a trick that did *not* work the first time I tried (even though I'm really good with concealer (thanks, meff!)))). The girl mis-sticking me so thoroughly cost me 100 bucks. Sux.

New Pokémon comes out Friday, so gonna nerd out on that for a while likely... Already kinda feeling that "fuck it, it's the holidays" vibe. This is dangerous for me, but I don't feel like I wanna drink or anything (yet). Just kinda feel... hell, I don't even know.

Stagnant. I feel kinda stagnant. You know, minus the daily dose of entropy. The race between my coping skills and the meta-realizations and realities of age rages on.

And that Facebook renamed themselves to meta, a very useful word in my lexicon, pisses me off endlessly. I quit their bullshit well over ten years ago. (See, this mother fucker already knew which way the wind was gonna blow.) And yet, that evil bullshit ass company still finds ways to fuck my day up, and on the regular at that.

Day 102 sober, 169 lbs.

Day 101 sober, 168 lbs.

Day 100 sober, 168 lbs.

Psst. It's really 12:05 AM. Pretend with me that I didn't just get lost striking out on Grindr for three hours in a row and forget to write yester... today.

So, got deferred at plasma cause my bruise has grown to over two inches. This messes up a lot of things for me. Not only do I have to go on weekends until at least the first week of December (the first week the 2nd donation isn't $100 instead of $50 making it the only week it makes sense to "reset my days"), but if I can't get this bruise to go down before Sunday, I'm just out $100 bucks that I was counting on.

I mostly just did a really big grocery shopping trip after plasma and then got lost looking at guys on Grindr. I almost went up to the gay bar just cause I look alright. Like, I look rough, but I look good. Like I look like I accidentally look good, which is complete bullshit, but it worked and I wanted to be seen, dammit. I mean, these jeans are a miracle for my ass. Meanwhile, on Grindr, I almost had some rando on the hook and had convinced myself to let him come over and bang me just to "rip the bandage off" so to speak. But then he ghosted.

That's what they do now. They just respond for a second and then stop. It's so fucked up. People on there used to love to chat it up. I could be on there and have six guys on the hook at once and just get lost talking to whomever and it was a lot of fun. The game has changed. That, or I'm just old. (Reminds me of a joke from Looking: "You know what Grindr sends you for your 40th birthday? A death certificate." I mean, hell, I thought everything went to shit at 38! 37 still somehow seems like 30-something. 38 just seems like 40. None of this matters to me, of course, because obviously, I'm only going to be 29 (again) this coming March. But, I digress.

Historically, I never do well on Friday nights anyway. Plus, practice is the only way to master any craft, and I'm just woefully out of practice with regard to how times have changed and how time has also changed me.

Hell... I dunno. What I do know is that I'm awfully tired of not getting laid.

And this was not at all what I came here to say. I came here to say nothing at all cause I totally didn't forget to write before midnight.

Day 99 sober, 167 lbs.

Mostly relaxed today. I did a couple of productive things I think? Laundry. That's right. Something else perhaps. I dunno. Played some Pokémon and that's about it.

Day 98 sober, 167 lbs.

I am tired as hell. I've had an insanely productive day. I'm only just now sat down to relax.

I got my Covid booster, and while wandering around Walmart after looking for doorstops (because the kitties wanna go in and out, but the fat orange one, Jasper, likes to bust up in a room like a wrecking ball; damned cat seriously flings doors open like they did something to him), found repair parts for my stupid toilet.

Tl;dr: I spent all damned day doing a buncha home repair on my bathroom. I fixed some ages old bullshit problems with the commode and sink. It was profoundly nasty work. I also never got door stops.

Before giving myself completely over the the winds of ADHD, also filled my prescriptions and sold about 20 Addies to keep me afloat. Also went and gave plasma. [tw: needles; skip to next paragraph] Last I was there, this girl who'd been gone for a while behind some personal health shit stuck me and my arm is still FUBAR over five days later. Thankfully, I have two good veins in my left arm, so I had 'em stick the one they never use so I won't have to get stuck in the same spot when I go back in two days.

Sorry for the horror story there. It's normally not so bad. Just a one off. Nice to have funded the day, the scripts, the parts, and then some. Tryin' so hard to do more than just tread water.

And, the malaise seems to be off of me (knock on wood), but productivity does that. So much accomplished, and yet if I had another three months of days just as productive, there'd still be more shit to do than I could ever list.

Day 98 sober, 168 lbs.

I've been feeling sad and I really can't trace it to any specific cause, at least not one that's changed much since a week or two ago. I almost just didn't write tonight. I thought about it and was like, fuck it. I'll get after it tomorrow. But, here I am, so there's that I suppose.

And it's not like a wretched resolve crushing sadness, feels more like erosion. Maybe it's dietary, maybe it's ... fuck, I dunno what it is. It doesn't really matter. It's hopefully nothing.

I did get to see an old friend today, LH. She and I go way, way, way back. We caught up and traded old stories and reminisced. Coincidentally, my ex-ex-roommate JR (the 2nd worst of the lot of them and, before that, one of my dearest and oldest friends and most prolific drinking buddy) texted her out of nowhere asking if she knew my phone number.

It's complicated, and I don't care to get into it (yet?). The tl;dr is that they ended up in conflict via texts over something else and he didn't get my number which I wasn't eager for her to share with him anyway. I just don't think inviting him back into my life could possibly benefit me in any way. He uses people.

Day 96 sober, 168 lbs.

Dammit. I musta forgot to write yesterday. Had a nice streak goin there, too. But, shit happens. I was tired and preoccupied with stupid roommate bullshit. Their answer to horrible smells is to just pour more odors into the mix via things like incense (and I literally cannot fucking stand incense of any variety). Their room is like ground zero of an all out olfactory assault and I explained as much and then took half a Xanax (and another half an hour later, 1mg total, still well within "as directed") and went to sleep.

Aside from their typical bullshit, I was just kinda caught up relaxing. I didn't eat ADHD meds for three days. I just needed a break from the grind. Today, it's time to get back at it before I lose momentum. So, weee... I guess. Not gonna lie, that the grind is already grindy is concerning. Never even mind the five+ Thanksgivingish relapses I've had.