“…I also believe that introversion is my greatest strength. I have such a strong inner life that I’m never bored and only occasionally lonely. No matter what mayhem is happening around me, I know I can always turn inward.” ~ Susan Cain
It’s Sunday morning again. That’s the third time this week, and I am tired of it. I’ve never liked Sundays and I have no idea why. Thus three in one weeks is too many. I know it is just a mistaken perception; there was really only one Sunday, but I don’t friggin care, because that mistaken perception comforts my stormy mind, and I wouldn’t have it any other way, because I don’t feel good at all. Earlier this morning I suspected that I am becoming bored, overall, not with anything in particular. Besides knowing it is not true I am pretty sure that passing my days without being with many cats is the cause of this suspicion. At times I get charged with emotion about losing my job the way I did and I also still, after four weeks, resent not having the job anymore. Too bad so sad. Bear in mind that the psych meds I take make intense emotions feel softer than they really are. People get so afraid of the idea of tampering with perception by way these types of meds, but I have no such fears. I still want to rant, then go to some high official, then shake my fist whilst proclaiming that it is not fair. But at this point it is now all about trauma. Yes I did notice that I was redundant in that last sentence. It’s the trauma. That is a great example of what it can do. I don’t even care if my editing is 100%! It could drop down to 80% and it wouldn’t be bother me much at all. I shall visit the therapist tomorrow, then the psychiatrist on Tuesday. The discharge from a task I loved is being too hard to dismiss from my desire for reality to conform to my wishes. Life is not fair. Move along, there’s no droids here. I know I am failing to make sense so far in today’s post. But maybe I am and I just don’t know it. Either way I am going to cut it short, mainly because I am in an active illness cycle, which means that either one or both of my disorders are having their way with me. It’s like the wind in that you just have to wait when the hard wind blows. Two days ago I got caught in a mini-dust storm. I realized, and a strange thought it was, that I could relate to the weather phenomenon. What this means is that the usually sedentary metaphorical dust in my mind has been stirred up and I cannot see worth a . . . let’s not use a profane word this morning. This too shall pass, right. Yes.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.