![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Miscellany
Oct. 17th, 2014 10:10 pm- duo: accidentally missed a day yesterday. Streak freeze means I didn't lose streak, otherwise I would cry.
- new psychdoc is starting me on the med merrygoround to try to help re-ground my brain. Bumping up doses of one, weaning me off a second and replacing with a third. Now comes the fun part of waiting.
- he also wants me to meditate daily. I have (re)discovered that my brain is occasionally like a five year old the day after Halloween. Goal: twenty minutes of meditation. Reality: "are we there yet" starting after the unbearable eternity of ... forty seconds, maybe?
- yarncraft -- or more precisely, my limitations when it comes to yarncraft -- is/are pissing me off right now. Things are hard to do when you can't get your hands closer together than a foot or so apart. Things are also hard to do when your hands are stuck below navel level so can't bring anything to right in front of your face to work on.
- one of the people in the fop community passed away a few days ago, and I didn't know him really (I recognized the name because Facebook stuff, but I never really interacted at all) but it sounds like he had about as much mobility as I do (except for being totally bed bound for like the last 15 or something years) and on the one hand it makes me feel less alone (a lot of the people more visible in the fop community are more functional and less restricted) but is also depressing me because everyone who knew him keeps talking about how happy and upbeat and stuff he always was, and I'm torn between feeling like a failure for not being Pollyanna, and wanting to punch the general expectation of Happy Disabled Inspiration in the face
- um did I mention that my mental state has "improved" from complete and utter panic despair copelessness to a tendency towards HULK SMASH rage? (Cue link to the hyperbole and a half entry where she explains how that works, or at least explains that it happens.). Which is interesting. To deal with, I mean. Because I have all these coping strategies for rage -- oh wait, no I don't, not at all. Anger, how does it work.
- am debating signing up for nano this year, not so much as "write a novel" (destined to fail spectacularly given that I can't even seem to manage drabbles) as "get in the fucking habit of putting words on metaphorical paper". If I do, want to come up with suitable rewards for: a) trying at all; b) hitting 1000 words; c) hitting 5000; d) hitting each 5k increment; e) writing a majority of the days, even if it's just one sentence; f) writing at least 6 days In a particular week; g) other things I'm not thinking of.
- new psychdoc is starting me on the med merrygoround to try to help re-ground my brain. Bumping up doses of one, weaning me off a second and replacing with a third. Now comes the fun part of waiting.
- he also wants me to meditate daily. I have (re)discovered that my brain is occasionally like a five year old the day after Halloween. Goal: twenty minutes of meditation. Reality: "are we there yet" starting after the unbearable eternity of ... forty seconds, maybe?
- yarncraft -- or more precisely, my limitations when it comes to yarncraft -- is/are pissing me off right now. Things are hard to do when you can't get your hands closer together than a foot or so apart. Things are also hard to do when your hands are stuck below navel level so can't bring anything to right in front of your face to work on.
- one of the people in the fop community passed away a few days ago, and I didn't know him really (I recognized the name because Facebook stuff, but I never really interacted at all) but it sounds like he had about as much mobility as I do (except for being totally bed bound for like the last 15 or something years) and on the one hand it makes me feel less alone (a lot of the people more visible in the fop community are more functional and less restricted) but is also depressing me because everyone who knew him keeps talking about how happy and upbeat and stuff he always was, and I'm torn between feeling like a failure for not being Pollyanna, and wanting to punch the general expectation of Happy Disabled Inspiration in the face
- um did I mention that my mental state has "improved" from complete and utter panic despair copelessness to a tendency towards HULK SMASH rage? (Cue link to the hyperbole and a half entry where she explains how that works, or at least explains that it happens.). Which is interesting. To deal with, I mean. Because I have all these coping strategies for rage -- oh wait, no I don't, not at all. Anger, how does it work.
- am debating signing up for nano this year, not so much as "write a novel" (destined to fail spectacularly given that I can't even seem to manage drabbles) as "get in the fucking habit of putting words on metaphorical paper". If I do, want to come up with suitable rewards for: a) trying at all; b) hitting 1000 words; c) hitting 5000; d) hitting each 5k increment; e) writing a majority of the days, even if it's just one sentence; f) writing at least 6 days In a particular week; g) other things I'm not thinking of.