NOW What Do I Do With Myself?

I find myself at a bit of a loss of what to do on occasion now that I’ve largely abandoned Facebook and am a little afraid of the Twitter newsfeed since it seems to largely consist of the same flaming firehose of political bullshit that drove me crazy on Facebook.  Although it was also the complete lack of certainty over who my friends really were on Facebook that also drove me nuts.  Twitter has that too to a certain extent, as my posts get very little notice that I can tell, but I’ve been spreading my profiles around to a couple of mental health and other groups and people are getting on board.  I don’t use social media to feed my ego like so many others do, but it’s still nice to know someone is reading and watching.  And I like talking to people!

I find myself pondering the mysteries of whether or not it does any good to hit someone with a clue-by-four when they say something just gobsmackingly dumb.  The kind of thing that makes you simultaneously facepalm, eyeroll, and double take.  Like, really?  Did you really just say that?  I can’t tell if it was stupidity and cluelessness, or worse, done on purpose with an unspoken dare to say anything.  I’ll have to chew on that one for a while.  While I realize the futility of saying things to certain people, I also believe in speaking your mind when someone stomps on you, and I do NOT believe in the silent treatment.  If you’re going to give someone the silent treatment, just cut them off.  Keeping someone in your life for the express purpose of constantly registering your displeasure with them by not talking to them is just cruel and ego-boosting, not to mention horrifyingly passive-aggressive.  As they say, ain’t no one got time for that.

I have my shrink appointment at 11am.  I’m looking forward to it, if for no other reason than to get some hope restored that this horrible spell my body seems to be under can be broken somehow, either by just waiting, or by taking another med, or something.  I almost don’t care anymore, I just want my body back.  I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my body’s passions completely in order to recapture my long-lost mind.  This is not a cool trade-off.  I am a body, a mind, and a soul, and I need all three to operate.  I hope the comparatively narrow field of psychiatry is up to the task of integrating them.  I had it for about 2-3 weeks, and then BAM, I hit that wall and the connection to my body was utterly lost.  I really hope it’s busy re-establishing some kind of equilibrium I don’t know about before it finally hooks back into the main system with the rest of me.

Only Trent Reznor/NIN can express my feelings via the song Down In It:

I used to be so big and strong
I used to know my right from wrong
I used to never be afraid
I used to be somebody!
I used to have something inside
Now I’m just this hole that’s open wide
I used to want it all
I used to be somebody

I was up above it.  Now I’m DOWN IN IT.

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