Internal combustion...

There really is a difference between taling my sleeping pills and not taking them. Without them I am less likely to inhabit higher spheres in the middle of the night. I also have less of a fantasy and I notice that when I try to write a blog post. I wax less poerically when I'm not under the influence of a barbiturate. In other words, I don't think I write as well when I am stone cold sober. 

That does mean I won't write a long, drawn out, epic blog post that is about nothing at all. I won't write just for the sake of writing, although there will always be some of that. I do enjoy my writer's role and do believe in the power of the word. But I do want to have something of significance to say. The words can't just be a means to fill the page. 

I can get a bit philosophical here and talk about the purpose of blog posts at all, but all I will tell you is that in my case they serve the purpose of alowing me to air my thoughts. In the process of airing my thoughts, things become clearer to me because it's like speaking out loud or having a conversation in which you get answers. I look at myself think and put things in order. 

It's better than having a talk with my therapist because she only causes confusion with her analysis. I resist her attempts at making me a patient and more than anything want to be an ordinary human being with all the facets that are attached to that. I do insist on that and refuse to be anything else.

Now I've got to finish sleeping. To dream, per chance. I know I will do that, there's no doubt about it. They will be the most fantastic and out of the ordinary dreams. 

Ciao,
Irene

I'm not giving up yet.

After fooling around with the templates, I haven't gone to bed yet. I'm as wide awake as I was before. I don't know what's to become of me at this rate. I'm sure I'm in for some sort of trouble. It's normal that people get tired eventually and go to sleep, but I seem not to be bothered by that. I wish I got good and tired and that I  was so sleepy that I could hardly keep my eyes open, but that's not the way it is.I'm doomed to be alert and awake.

I have to pass the time and at this time of the morning I know of only one way to do it and that is to sit behind the computer and blog. It hardly seems to matter that I have hardly anything to say. It seems that any kind of nonsense will do. At least, it seems that way to me. You may feel differently about that. I'm sure you'd like to read something entertaining.

The cat walked in a little while ago with a bird in her mouth. I was able to rescue it and it seemed pretty much intact. I released it outside and I hope it makes its escape and isn't caught again. The cat stayed inside for a while and was somewhat stunned that I'd taken the bird away from her, but she went outside a while ago. I fear for the worst. I just hope that she doesn't bring it inside again.

The dog was very interested in the proceedings and followed me outside when I released the bird, but in the darkness he couldn't see where it landed. He did search for it, but I got him back inside. It's always something with those animals. They are not kind to their fellow creatures, at least not to those in the wild.

That was enough of an adventure for this morning. I don't want any more little creatures inside. The early birds were chirping so cheerfully too. Then that murderous cat had to come along.

I've been drinking milk for a long while now and have just taken my medicines. Maybe they will make me tired. Very often they do. They and the milk seem to settle me down anyway.

At least today is Saturday and a weekend day. All I have to do is fold the dry laundry and do the dishes. There's a big stack of them. You all know that it's my favorite chore. I'll have to go through the apartment and pick up dog hair too. It's floating around. The place really does need to be vacuumed twice a week.

I've started to yawn. I think this is a sign to go to bed and this time I'm serious. I will not fool around any longer.

Have a great weekend.

Ciao,
Nora

Those rotten chores...

I've done my chores and the washing machine is churning away so I don't have to feel bad about sitting here and taking the time to write this. I've even done my administration and ordered new food for the dog on line. Yes, I have done my duties and didn't have a nervous breakdown. 

I only was in danger of having one for half a minute and then I dared it to. I faced it head on and decided it wasn't going to get to me. That I was stronger than it and that I was not in need of a tranquilizer simply because I had a number of stressful activities to take care of. 

I proved to be right. Opening the mail and facing possible bad news was not half as bad as I thought it was going to be. It was what it was, unpleasant. They wanted my money. I dislike that intensely, but it doesn't help if I have a breakdown over it.

In my spare moments I watched tennis at Roland Garros. There were some Dutch people playing and they needed my attention, not that it helped. We don't do all that great, not when faced with formidable opponents like Kim Klijsters and Marty Fish. It was fun to watch anyway and they were nice moments to have a cup of coffee and a cigarette.

I couldn't finish watching any of the matches, so I don't know how they ended. I had to do my chores and walk the dog in the windy day. There are rain clouds, but no rain has fallen out of them yet.

The dog had been stealing the potholders off their hook in the kitchen and playing with them. They had drool all over them and they're in the washing machine now. He has also been stealing the magnetic little animals off the refrigerator and I found them throughout the apartment. I put them up high, but he still got to them. 

It's a completely new activity for him that he's just discovered. Stealing things from the kitchen. I suppose that up till now, it was just a place to go eat and he hadn't really explored it properly. I guess next will be the dishtowels. I've got to go to the pet shop and buy him some new indestructible toys. He wrecked his rubber rabbit to the point that I had to toss it out. 

He really enjoyed tearing that rabbit apart and it took him a long time. It was worth the price I paid for it. I may get one like it again. It was the best toy we've had so far. 

I've got to put away the dishes and hang up the clean laundry. I'm glad the day is almost over. I have to walk the dog one more time and then I'm going to put on clean pajamas and vegetate in front of the television. I may even read my book. It will be an evening spent leisurely with the minimum amount of activity. 

You wouldn't have thought that officially this was my day off. I had no appointments today and nobody coming over. 

I hope you're all having a good day with the kind of weather you most want. 

Ciao,

Nora

 

A tale of awareness...

There's an awful lot of temptation in just repeating myself and telling you the same story I told you yesterday, but that would be awfully boring. It would make my job easier, because I would not have to put so much effort into writing this post. It would practically write itself. 

Instead I have to take care and really do my best to put down something interesting. I can't lie down on the job. If I'm going to sit here and spend my time putting down words, they may as well be good ones and carry some weight. Otherwise I may as well shut off the computer and hang up my blogs in the willows.

That doesn't mean I actually have something of interest to say. That's another matter all together.  I always hope I do because the need to write is big. There's nothing I like better than sitting here behind the keyboard and coming up with stuff to write about. I have an enormous ego that needs to be fed and blogging is one way it's done. 

Forget about sharing my most inner self and the need to unload my secrets. Mostly I want a way to display myself and what better way to do it than to try and get other people to read my words. Probably that's reflective of some sort of insecurity in myself, don't you think? 

Regardless, whatever my true reason, I do like to sit here and come up with some nonsense and I must say that there's enough of it out there too, but I read it all with the most attention that I can. I really care about it. I care about the people who write it too. We're all basically decent human beings who do our best. 

No, it's not all nonsense that's out there. You really learn a lot from reading other people's blogs. You learn a lot about human nature and at the very least how not to behave. You can always say to yourself, "There, but for the grace of God, go I." If you open up your eyes well enough, you see your own follies too. 

The sooner you learn about human nature, the better. It's preferable not to fool yourself about it. If you're like me, you've learned to ignore a lot of it, but that's not a good idea. Never stop questioning it. It's for your own good if you don't. 

I have to walk the dog and eat dinner. It's that time of the evening again. The day has gone by quickly, but then again, I was surrounded by people. I didn't really enjoy their company and couldn't wait for them to be gone. Today I prefer my own company and the dog's and the cat's. Sometimes it is better that way.

I hope you'll all have a good evening. It's overcast and cold here. Brrr...

Ciao,

Nora

Without mentioning the obvious...

Right, where was I before I was so rudely interrupted by life? It feels like it's been a long time since I was here, while it has only really been two days. So, that's no time at all. You mustn't think that I've got anything special to share either, because I don't. There's been no excitement here at all.

The only things I've got to report is that yesterday was Remembrance Day and today is Liberation Day, but neither of these days make hardly any impact on my life at all, except that I observed two minutes of silence yesterday evening while watching the memorial ceremony on television. That was my contribution to the activities.

You mustn't think that I don't care, because I do. It's just that there's been no opportunity for me to join in on any of the festivities that are organized around town. I've been keeping to myself and you certainly don't seek out company when you keep to yourself. It's part of my agoraphobia. It wouldn't be so bad if I had someone to go with me. Maybe I have a social phobia. I was awfully shy when I was a kid. I hide it behind a lot of bravery now, but the shyness comes seeping out all over the place. I'm not at all a brave person, really.

My favorite thing to do in the afternoon is to take a nap. I wait for my medicines to start working and go to bed where I lie listening to the radio until I drift off for a few hours. I think it's the best time of the day. Any time spent sleeping is. It's the safest activity I can think of.  I wouldn't mind being asleep more often. Of course, you do get done sleeping at a certain point. You've just done enough of it and aren't tired anymore. That's the sad part of that.

I don't even like being awake in the middle of the night that much anymore. I'd rather be asleep, but I don't manage that yet. I was up last night and tried to write a post, but I wasn't able to do it. I wasn't in the right frame of mind and deleted everything I did try to write. They were all futile attempts. I don't think I have to be inspired every time I sit down to write. I think it's okay if sometimes nothing comes of it. I don't see it as a literary failure. 

I said I was rudely interrupted by life, but of course I'm not at all. Life doesn't interrupt me in the least. The only movements that happen in my existence are the unexpected ebbs and flows that suddenly appear because of the fickleness of my moods. They interrupt me, life doesn't at all. Life is a smooth pond in which now and then a ripple appears. It is something completely different from what happens in my psyche. 

I think I've written enough nonsense. It's time for me to walk the dog. He's sitting here looking longingly at me with his big brown eyes.

Have a good evening you all. 

Ciao,

Nora

No woman, no cry...

It's in the middle of the night again and I am up as usual. It's the same old routine as it always is and really, I would not want it any different, unless my psychiatrist gave me pills that actually made me sleep through the whole night. I thinks that's a pipe dream, however, and I won't hold my breath waiting for them. I wonder if such a pill actually exists. It would have to be a horse pill that put me completely under.

I do long for blessed sleep like that, but as long as I don't get it, I don't mind being up in the middle of the night and sitting behind the computer under the influence of my sleep medication and writing a blog post because it does take away my inhibitions. It makes it easier for me to write. I can turn out all sorts of nonsense without worrying about it too much. I'm slightly dopey and not to be held completely accountable. I will blame whatever idiotic things I write on the drugs. 

I suppose I'm like an alcoholic who writes under the influence of booze and turns out masterpieces. Not that I claim to write those, but I write a heck of a lot better when I'm under the influence of sleep medication than when I'm stone cold sober. I tried that earlier tonight and absolutely nothing came of it. All I was faced with was the stark reality of life and all its bareness and it scared me to death. I could not face it and write about it. It immobilized my mind.

I saw the harsh gray outlines of life and its grim contours and its unkind face and I didn't like it. It was all harsh cement and cold gray stone and unreflective glass facades and I felt intimidated by it. I don't want to live in a world like that. I want to live in a world in which the contours are softened and the colors are kinder. My sleep medication makes it so. It's like seeing the world through rose colored glasses. Call it escapism, but who do I hurt by escaping it? I still function in it. I'll be sober again in the morning, which it almost is now.

Of course, that's why I like being up so much in the middle of the night. I wouldn't like it if I were not under the influence. No doubt I would do everything I could to stay asleep or at least in bed, unpleasant as that might be. I honestly doubt I would sleep very much. 

Do I lay bare my soul too much? So be it.

I'm going back to bed shortly. I'll take my morning medicines and crawl back under the duvet. It's when I do my best sleeping.

Have a good day.

Ciao,

Nora

Instinctively...

 

I always feel that whatever I write here has to be very inspirational.  That I can't just write about run of the mill matters here and ordinary things that occur in my day to day life. God only knows where I got such an idea. It's not as if this blog is loftier than my other blogs, so I shouldn't treat it that way or try to write  that way, otherwise I may get intimidated and develop writer's block and that won't do at all. I need to take this blog down a notch or two and make  it a reflection of how I really am and how I really think and not some blown up literary attempt at pretty prose. Having said that, I will now get down to business and write something plain and ordinary.

I've already slept tonight. I went to bed early, after I watched the eight o'clock news and found out about the latest developments in Tunisia, but I woke up after several hours and was wide awake again. The time it takes my 'falling asleep' pill to stop working. Now I have to wait for real sleep to hit me again. That will be some time towards the morning. In the meantime, I've had a cup of coffee and I'm now drinking a glass of milk, which is thirst quenching, but is making me feel cold. I'd better drink a glass of warm milk or a cup of hot chocolate, but the latter always makes me feel very full, as if I've eaten a meal. My gastric band can't handle anything substantial. 

I have to find some ways to amuse myself tonight and there are several possibilities. Looking for good templates is one of them. That's always a sport that I don't tire of. I can spend a long time looking for the right one. I'm also going to be looking for interesting bits of writing for the website Six Sentences, which I recently have gotten a renewed interest for. It makes me pay attention to the quality of things I write and have written. I can also go in search of images to accompany these blog posts. I do use them up quickly, but there are always more to find. I'll be looking for especially colorful ones as opposed to the black and white ones that I usually post. A body does want something different every once in a while. 

It's in the middle of the night now and I feel very good. It's so nice to sit here in the semi dark all be myself and to know that the world around me is asleep. It's not raining outside and merely cloudy. It's not all that cold either. I was standing by the back door earlier and it was very doable while I waited for Tyke to finish getting done with his business. He is a slowpoke and does take his time, unless I pretend to walk away and leave him there, but then he may start to bark and I can't have that late at night. It would upset the night rest of my neighbors.I do have one especially delicate neighbor who will let me know that he's not pleased.

I must be off to do other things now. I have dawdled long enough. It's taken me forever to write this little bitty post. I have made cigarettes in the meantime and checked my facebook account. Sometimes it's hard to stick to the job at hand. There are also emails to answer. I've seen those come in, but have resisted reading them. I do have some self control. I've got to wait for it to become morning so that I can go back to bed. It will be with much joy that I do. I will be more than ready to.

Have a good day.

Ciao,

Nora

 

Untitled...

I have a good old case of writer's block. I have been sitting here looking at this blank page for an hour and a half and could not even come up with a title, let alone some subject to write about. I slept very deeply way into the afternoon and was awakened by the sound of the telephone, or so I thought. I stumbled out of bed, but heard nothing, and I have been sitting here ever since trying to gather my thoughts together with the help of cups of coffee and cigarettes.

I was up earlier in the morning, but threatened to end up in a very bad mood for lack of sleep, so I went back to bed immediately. That was the smartest thing I could have done, if I had stayed up, I would have been in bad shape by now. I don't know what shape I'm in now, I have no idea. I can't figure out my mood. I think I'm still not properly awake yet and that it's going to take some more coffee before I find out. I have the best of intentions, but the road to hell is paved with them. 

When I was a teenager, and I slept late like this, I had a heck of a time coming to my senses and I could not be talked to for the first hour that I was up because I was in a stupor. My mother was so incredibly cheerful and I just sat there silently and drank my coffee, trying to remember who I was. It's awful to be talked to cheerfully when you yourself aren't. It makes you extra grumpy. 

So, I must be like that teenager now and really need my time to come to my senses and be in a stupor when I wake up so late. At least I don't have any cheerful people around me. I'm spared that, but I do have these cheerful animals who are innocent as to my morning mood and who have no idea that I'm a slow starter, although I think Gandhi is more aware of it than Tyke is. She's very thoughtful when she moves around me. She's all delicateness. Tyke is all awkward paws and slobbery kisses and barks and talks. He does give me a lot of leeway and doesn't get obnoxious until his bladder really stands to burst. Like right now. 

For a change it wasn't that cold outside. It's 52F and the wind was blustery, but not unpleasant. The sun is even peeking through the clouds. Someone said it's going to be another cold winter like we had last year, but I forgot who it was. I must have read it on one of the blogs. Don't say you heard it here first, because I don't know if it's true. I hope to God it's not true, because that's one thing I'm not prepared for. 

I must go back to sleep because I'm falling asleep behind the computer. It's taking me a while to recuperate from this hypo manic episode.

Have a good day.

Ciao,
Nora

Blog hopping...

I've been up for quite a while and have been doing what comes natural and that has been blogging over at Wordpress,. I started another blog there and I'm not going to give you the link to it but leave it completely up to chance for you to discover me there and maybe one day you will. I don't know how hard that is. I just thought I would fall back into anonymity. 

I don't know what I'm doing with all these blogs, but it seems like a good idea to have all of them to keep me writing and to keep me out of trouble, because that's what I seem to have been getting into lately. Maybe I am mad and don't know it and nobody has told me that I am and I'm living under the delusion that I'm quite sane and normal. Anything is possible. 

It's early in the morning now and I'm drinking coffee and having my cigarettes. I feel quite cozy here and am very much at peace with the world and my surroundings. I have not one bit of sleep in my body and I'm looking forward to taking a shower later and washing my hair which badly needs it. I will use my lightener shampoo and have perfectly blond hair. 

I've got my clothes picked out, in sofar that I've got it down to 2 outfits and I have to make a final instinctual decision when I look at them this morning, but I think I already know which way I'm leaning. I feel cheerful and that calls for red and a minidress. It's not going to be so awfully cold today, so I don't have to dress extra warm.

Rainclouds have moved in and are trapping what little warmer air there is and are keeping frost from developing. It's now 43F and much warmer than it was yesterday morning and it's going to be 54F today, which is much better. I won't be freezing my buns off when I go to see my psychiatrist on my bike this morning. That is, if it's not raining, otherwise I will have to walk under the umbrella. I don't mind either way. I prefer not to get wet, though. 

I had every intention to have a good long sleep last night, but it didn't happen. I laid in bed being bored and waiting for it to be time to get up until I couldn't stand it anymore. Sometimes I think that sleeping is such a waste of time, until I get a shortage of it and need to be be put under and rest for 12 hours straight. Other than that, I think it is highly overrated and I don't see why I have to get all of it at night when I feel so good and there are such interesting things to do. The nighttime is infinitely better to be awake in than the daytime. I haven't figured out yet why that is, I only have hypotheses. 

I've still got the heater on against the cold and in spite of it I feel the draft from the cat flap, even though all the windows are closed. It is actually very well sealed, but somehow it still lets in the cold air. The bedrooms are colder anyway because they are always in the shade and they have single glass windows, which I think is a crime. I do wish they would replace those. There's always a lot of condensation on them that you get rid of by having the radiators on. Those rooms are wet and cold and need to be wallpapered and painted. I'm ignoring that as much as possible. It's too big a job for me. 

Tyke's been surprisingly well behaved all night, which goes to show you that he's only bad when I'm asleep. I think he resents me being asleep as he gets bored or something. He doesn't do anything destructive when I'm gone from home. He's only mischievous when I'm asleep. 

The problem is, that when I'm asleep, I'm sound asleep and nothing wakes me up. I don't hear any noises of him ripping things apart. He could tear the whole bedroom apart and I wouldn't notice it. It's only when I have to go to the toilet that I find out what he's been doing and by that time it's too late. The damage has been done and he always thinks of something to get into that I've not thought of. The most unusual things aren't safe. He never ceases to surprise me. Well, of course he couldn't get away with anything during this night because I was awake. He does know when he's being bad. He's not a dumb dog.

I think I will take my medicines now and take my shower. I'm ready for squeaky clean hair and a good outfit. It will be a pleasure to put on something different and cheerful. Something to match my mood and my rosy cheeks. I will see if the laundry is dry and get ready to put another load in the machine, There's nothing so nice as clean clothes. You can't beat those. 

Have a good day!

Ciao,
Nora

Adding up the hours.

I was up early this morning, because Tyke was barking and I had to stop him so he wouldn't wake up the neighbors. Once I had assured him that everything was fine, I was wide awake and ready to stay up, so I made myself some coffee and answered my emails, which is always a good exercise for my brain. I feel surprisingly clearheaded this morning and not at all hung over, so answering my emails was done with a well functioning mind, which I can't say is always true. I'll have to see how I do the rest of the day, but it's good to feel so levelheaded so early in the morning.

I still can't see my complete blog template, but I've heard that Blogger is having some problems, so maybe it is due to that. I will wait it out patiently and see if the problem clears itself up. I've also left a message at the template website, but I haven't heard anything from them yet. Will those of you who do see my complete template let me know? At least I'll know there is hope.

Well, I was speaking of feeling clearheaded, but I can't think of a bloody thing to write about, yet write I must. It's supposed to be a compulsion, after all, and when you are compulsed to do something, you can't help but. It's like people who talk, but don't have anything to say. This may turn into one of those exercises.

Tell you what. I think I'll take my medicines and see if that makes any difference. It will be an interesting experiment and I will wait half an hour before I start writing again.



Okay, I've hung out on Facebook and tried to figure out why some people are so incredibly popular. I just don't seem to fit in that category, you know? People don't flock around me. I make statements, but I don't get many responses. Maybe my statements aren't provocative enough and they should be more outrageous. Maybe I should insult people in high places or become incredibly political or put in more links to interesting stories. It's a puzzlement. I will have to think about it for a while. I must have a better plan in place. Look at me, the big strategist.

I've noticed that after I take the Welbutrin in the morning lately, my mood just goes downhill. I become angry and irritated and impatient. I don't know if this is a temporary condition, but I've just sent my SPN an email discussing this problem with her. I don't think this is the way an antidepressant is supposed to make you feel. It happens within an hour after I take it. It's impossible to do anything about it once it strikes, but to keep in mind what the cause is and that it's an artificial mood and that it has nothing to do with reality. It does help to talk about it. I feel I'm coming out of the closet with my perfect Welbutrin that made me feel so good for the first two weeks.

If it's a temporary side effect, then I can live with it, but if it's a permanent thing, then I'm going to get off them and not try anything else. I've had enough different kinds of antidepressants and none of them have really worked, except for my temporary believe in them. There is no happiness pill.

Well, I'm going to get dressed and take Tyke for a walk. It will do us both good.

Have a good day.

Ciao,
Nora

Tell me why...

My blog template showed up incomplete all day. All I saw was a green screen with text and photos, in other words, things I had posted and filled in. So, I went ahead and installed a different template, but I have the same problem with it, so I have no idea what's going on. I'm assuming the problem will correct itself, since it is happening with both and I'm stubborn enough to believe it. If not, I will turn into a toad again and when I'm kissed, I will not turn into a beautiful princess, but an old hag. How many people go around kissing toads anyway? I've never done it.

The Exfactor did a good deed today. He took the train and specifically came to visit me so I would have someone to talk to. He knew I was having a hard time and he brought a lighter too, so I wouldn't have to go back to the store to buy one. I told him everything that was on my mind and he could only agree with me and saw the logic in what I was saying. I don't have emotions, I have symptoms and for all these symptoms there are labels, and for every label there is a pill. Every time I have an emotion, there is a pill or an increase in a pill to kill the emotion. I'm not supposed to feel anything. Every deviation is dangerous.

Well, the domestic help was here this afternoon. It was the same girl who was here last week and I hope she becomes my regular help. I may have to call about that and see if I can arrange that. She wasn't upset that I hadn't done anything, but she did tell me to ask for more time for her to do her work in. So three hours instead of two. There's lots of cleaning left to do in this apartment. Things have been neglected for a long time. At first glance it looks okay, but when you look closer it's not and those girls know how to look. They see dirt that I don't. It's getting harder not to be embarrassed.

Tyke is so fond of the domestic help. He wants all her cleaning supplies, but he listens well when I tell him that no, he is not allowed to steal things. When it was time for her to vacuum, I took him for a walk so he wouldn't bark the whole time and drive the neighbors crazy. That was a good solution. Too bad I can't do that when I'm supposed to vacuum.

Now for me the best time of the day starts, after I have taken my 6 pm medicines. I don´t know why that is, but soon afterwards, I always feel the best of any time of the day. I take my medicines, walk the dog, and when I get home, I feel good. It´s not that everything is suddenly okay and that all the problems have been solved, but I feel more courageous and a little more happy and not so drained, while there´s really not much to look forward to but loneliness. I think that is one reason why I write so many posts. I feel that I´m in contact with you all while I´m writing them, as if I´m having a conversation with you and we are connected through the words. When I´m done writing a post, I feel immediate regret and want to start writing another one, so I won´t lose the connection. I will still be part of something bigger than just me and the animals.

On Thursday afternoon, I´m meeting my friend Von at our café on the Our Dear Lady Square downtown. I think it´s been 5 months since we´ve met at the café. I´ll go see if the trees have any buds on them and if the outside of the church has been fully restored. If it is at all possible with my schedule, Thursday afternoons are going to be our regular afternoons.

On Wednesday morning, I have a meeting at the SPC for an intake for the creative classes of which I don´t know when they are going to be yet or when there is a place for me available. I can´t go Monday afternoons or Thursday afternoons, so hopefully there will be something available on other days.

So you see, I have plans and they will be good for me, I have no doubt about it. It will be good to get out of the house and amongst people and have activities and create things. And hang out with Von and drink cappuccinos. I do have to add those to my budget, mustn´t forget that.

Okay, this post is done, because I´ve told you everything that will go in this post. I don´t know if there will be another post. It depends on how the mood strikes me.

Have a good evening!

Ciao,
Nora

Let me tell you...

Toward the morning I went to bed and fell asleep within seconds after I laid down. Apparently I was very tired after all and I had just been putting off going to bed. Whatever stubborn streak that was in me I don't know, but it sure didn't come in handy, because I probably could have gone to bed much sooner if I hadn't subconsciously insisted on staying awake. I woke up 4 hours later, refreshed and ready to start the day, although once I was actually up, I did realize that I needed a cup of coffee, because I had some trouble making cigarettes for myself, something I should be able to do blindfolded. I managed to make 5 cigarettes before I gave up and made myself some coffee.

My computer gave me some trouble with starting up and it was making a lot of noise as if it was busy doing a lot of important things that were all a mystery to me. It would not start up the email program and when it finally did, it didn't react and it had to be shut down in a complicated way that took much time. Then it told me there were updates that needed to be installed. so maybe it had been looking for them. The updates are now installed, but I wasted a good hour doing all these things. Grumble! I don't like Windows Vista all that much. It's too cumbersome. It's still mumbling to itself and I don't know why. It should be nearly silent now. I may have gotten a white elephant, but with a lot of gigabytes, I do have to give you that.

I may have gone through a rapid cycle and have been hypomanic during the night, until I got a hold of myself and managed to get out of it. I'll have to tell my SPN about it when I see her this afternoon and make sure she realizes that it's over now and has been since early this morning. It certainly was an odd experience, especially the way I kept writing posts as if I could not stop myself. It was all a prelude to madness. Well, it's done now and I'm glad. I wasn't as comfortable and happy as I was claiming to be. There was a certain amount of messianic mania to it. It had me tottering in a high place. For those of you who were worried, you had good reason to be. It could easily have gotten out of hand.

I will finish writing this post when I've seen my SPN. That will prevent me from having to write two posts.

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Apparently the computer triggers my manic behavior, I become obsessed with it and I can feel the obsession grow already now as I write this. The later in the day it gets, the more my obsession grows, until there's hardly any stopping it and I must write almost constantly and get all my messages across, harmless as they start out to be. As I write more and more I seem to be somebody on a soapbox who is announcing evangelical messages. It seems to be that way to me, anyway. I'm afraid of what profound things I'm going to declare next.

A sane person would say, turn of the computer, but I'm not able to. It's impossible for me to do that. I would feel completely cut off from the most important thing in my life. It goes on first thing in the morning and it goes out last thing at night. I don't know how that is for you people, but for me it seems like an addiction, especially now that I have a new computer. I can't not turn it on.

I'm writing this post now and it has a certain mood to it, so there's not much I can do about it, except try to lighten it, but it seems impossible to do that. So to offset this post that is set in this mood, I will feel the need to very quickly write another post that is set in another mood. A happy go slappy mood. At least, that's what I would attempt. And one post would follow the other until I got it right and we were back to the messianic mania again.

It is important that this does not get out of hand tonight, because my medication will need to be adjusted. I don't want to take too much at the risk of being too hyper to go to sleep and sitting here obsessively writing posts. I don't want me to get out of hand.

Okay, I just had my SPN on the phone, and she had a consultation about my medication with my psychiatrist, and I'm to cut the Welbutrin by half and increase my antipsychotic medicine temporarily. So, I'm not imagining things and I am being taken seriously and I think they are doing the right things. I'm not happy about increasing the antipsychotic, but since it's only temporarily, I'll go along with it. I will now be taking the amount of Welbutrin that ordinary people also start with and not double the amount hat I had insisted on at the risk of becoming manic. It only gets increased if it doesn't work at the original dose.

Well, that's good, I'm being pro-active and that makes people help you figure things out. Everybody puts on their thinking caps and helps you work out the problem. People who know about medication and how it works.

Ciao,
Nora

Past midnight...

Now, in case any of you are wondering, I am not hypomanic. Let me make that perfectly clear. I'm not having to peel myself off the ceiling from joy. Nor am I showing any sort of irresponsible behavior. I'm not ordering things on line that I can't afford or making promises that I can't keep or doing anything to endanger my safety. I am just having a writing compulsion and you can look at it as sort of an excentric bit of behavior that I am exhibiting right now, but it is completely harmless. It is odd, I agree with that, but it is also funny and I am amused by it and I hope you will all be amused by it with me.

I don't know where this drive is coming from, but it may be a side effect from my pills, like I have other side effects that I am pleased with, although this one may be considered a mixed blessing. I know you can't keep up with the amounts op posts I'm publishing, but although I would like that very much, I can't expect it of you and we'll just see this as Nora writing for her own sake and getting all her loose thoughts down and publishing them in a public forum, so they exist. Besides that, I find this a very pleasant way to spend my time and I'm always up for the challenge of what I will write about that might be the least bit interesting.

I don't like to write about my memories very much, although I have many and could entertain you with all sorts of them, both joyful and sad, but I have decided not to live in the past anymore, at least not consciously, and I would hate to purposely write a story down from my long ago. I will tell you a flash of a memory.

*We used to go for walks in the forest and my father, who had big muscles in his arms, would swing from tree limbs and make that sound like Tarzan made and I used to think that was the neatest thing. I had a very fun father.*

Flashes of memory are okay and you'll have to remind me to give you more of these and they will probably all involve my father, because I had the most amount of fun with him.

In the meantime I'm writing all these missives as if I am a woman on a secret mission and I have to write as many reports as I can about the state of affairs of my intended target. Well, my intended target is me, who else do you write about in a blog post, which is the ultimate ego document. Never in my whole life have I been able to be so much the focus of attention as I have been here and I hope it's not gone to my head and I'm suffering from delusions of grandure. It's very possible, you know, that these pills have given me a mega-ego and that I think I am everything the world revolves around. The fact that I am thinking that must not make it true.

I have taken my medicines nearly an hour ago and you would think that they'd work by now but nothing could be further from the truth. I'm as wide awake as an owl at midnight.

Well, if it's going to be one of those night I better prepare myself for it and make sure I have enough to do. I'm not going to change the living room around, I like it fine the way it is, but I'm sure there are some other interesting things to do. I've washed the striped cover of the arm chair and I can put that back on. I can also wash the sofa cushion covers, although the washing machine may make too much noise. I better save that for during the day, because I have to vacuum the sofa too. I can complete my email address book. Noiseless things, that's what I have to do. Writing many blog posts with yourself as the main character is very noiseless.

Tomorrow afternoon I have an appointment with my SPN. I might be smart if I got a little bit of sleep before that time. It wouldn't do if I sat there all wired and manic. It would definitely give the wrong impression. She would call in my psychiatrist and they would reduce my new medication, because it has been known that at the dose I take it people can get manic from it.

Never mind, go with the flow. Let anything that happens now take place and see where it takes you. Who knows where you will end up and what you will discover along the way. It could be quite a revelation. Any kind of alteration to the mind is an opportunity for new discoveries and experiences as long as you don't approach them with fear or think of them as something scary taking place inside of you that you have no control over, because you do to a certain extent. You just can't completely give yourself over to it, you do have to retain some amount of control.

Just tell yourself that and you will see what happens. You will find out that you enter the state of mind with a certain amount of watchfulness and not at all as helpless as you thought you were and I think that goes for any state of mind. We can always be the observer and keep a certain amount of disance from ourselves and not be completely pulled in by our own emotions.Keep a healthy distance from yourself and it will hurt and bewilder you less.

I feel wide awake now, but not at all hypomanic. I feel very calm and peaceful, and whatever flighty feelings I had a while ago are gone now and I have been brought back to earth to where both my feet are planted. My head is not in the clouds and I do not feel like flying off into the big blue yonder and letting all my responsibilities fall behind me. I've called myself back to order by being my own observer and taking distance from my own feelings and state of mind. I removed myself from the situation and walked away from it. You may have to literally do that.

So you see, my ego document is turning out not to be so megalomaniac after all. In the end I turned out to be quite sane. Those of you who disagree are free to do so. It's all a matter of interpretation. I'm making sense to me, but maybe I'm not making sense to you. Then we are just two ships passing in the night, which is a shame. I just hope that neither one of us is the Titanic ;0)

I'm going to end this insightful saga now, but no doubt there will be more tonight, so hold on to your seat belts. I'm on my soapbox.

Ciao,
Nora

Funnier!

I had written a post earlier this morning that I decided was so boring that I deleted it and I want to start all over again. It is possible that I don't have it in my fingers today to write a good post, but we will see. I will give it my best shot and see what I can make of it. I may not be quite as funny as I normally am. Maybe I am more serious today than I am on other days. If so, it is because I didn't get enough sleep. I didn't go to sleep until the middle of the night, diistracted as I was by things to do on the computer and there are always so many of them.

The fact that I have a new computer doesn't help things either, because it makes me think that I can do everything better than I used to, so I want to try that out. I like my email program, so I'm constantly checking for emails, or writing them, and I find that very satisfactory. Looking for interesting blogs is an other favorite activity, as if I don't read enough already and keeping up with them is a full time job, but I gladly put in the time.

Leaving comments is a tricky business, because at some blogs that I read I never leave any, feeling as if I'm an interloper there who really has no business being there and the other comments seem so good that I can't think of anything equally good to say. I should have a little more confidence in myself. I'm sure I don't come across as the shy and retiring type.

More than anything I like writing posts, because I like the business of writing. It doesn't matter so much to me what I write about as long as I do it as good as possible. I always have doubts about spelling and grammar, not having been formally educated in them in this language, but I think I fake it pretty well. I know I'm confused about expressions sometimes and use Dutch ones in English, because I'm not sure of which language they belong to. I'm trapped between the two and thinking in both of them.

I could write posts all day long and maybe never run out of things to say, while in real life I'm not much of a talker, depending on who I'm with. I feel handicapped in my speech, as if saying something out loud is harder than writing it down. Of course, I have to speak in Dutch and I still manage to make a mess of it and want to use many English words. It happens in a discussion that I don't remember the Dutch words for things and use the English ones, so I end up speaking Dutchlish. I also happens that when I'm trying to write down a concept in a post, I have to think it through in Dutch first and translate it into English before I can put it down in complete sentences.

I'm glad I have a domestic help now, because I'm going to have her wash the windows next Monday. They are so dirty, I should be ashamed of myself, but I'm not. Dutch housewives have clean windows, but I don't consider myself one. You see them in the middle of winter, out with a bucket of suds and a stepladder, cleaning their windows in their plain clothes without a jacket on and I think they are mad. They also scrub the entrance way and the stoop and the front door in freezing temperatures. I'm not that dedicated. So the domestic help can clean the windows. I brought that up, because the sun is shining on them now and I can see all the dirt. I fills me with anxiety and I won't let it. I'm for an anxiety free life.

The Exfactor was here this afternoon and put the door back on in the spare bedroom. It was always a bit of a mystery to me why he had taken it off, except that it seemed to be in the way to him. It had been stored in the shed all this time and of course it is rather dirty, so I have to clean it with a lot of elbow grease. I keep it ajar, so the cats can go in and out through the cat flap that's in the back door there, but at least it takes the view away of all those unsightly boxes that are sitting there and the eternal dust and debris that the cats drag in.

We only had a short political discussion, more for the form than anything else and I let him do most of the talking, which he does easily. Sometimes it helps to be the more silent one. Tyke entertained us with his follies and that took up some time. Thank goodness for a funny dog.

I have to do some chores now, duty does call me. It has a nagging little voice that can not be ignored.

Have a great day. It is 18C here, isn't that a miracle?

Ciao,
Nora

Testing...one, two, three...

I delete every post I start writing after about one or two paragraphs, sometimes more. I feel that I don't have a thing worthwhile telling you and that anything I do write down is just the same old sh*t I've written about a hundred times. I don't know why that is just dawning on me these past 24 hours. Why I never had that thought before. I must have been delusioned all this time and so convinced of my talent as a writer that I really thought I was saying profound things.

Tyke is doing much better today. He has stopped being sick to his stomach and has even eaten a little. His eye looks very good and it's not bleeding. That's what the collar is for, to keep him from pawing at his eye, but he figured out that he can scratch it with his hind paw. Luckily, he hasn't opened the wound and I'm keeping the collar on him until tomorrow. That's what the vet said to do. Tyke doesn't like the collar and gets frustrated by it. Well, he's basically walking around with a cone around his head. He can't play with Gandhi and he gets stuck between furniture, although he is figuring out how to work his way around it. He's a pretty adaptable, really, and inventive. He figured out how to eat from his bowl with that thing on his head, which was just a bit tricky, and he knows how to pick things up from the ground, although his nose is almost too short for the cone.

I'm okay. I just have to avoid doing anything that causes stress, so that includes a lot of things. I'm keeping it as simple as possible today. Writing this post and answering emails are the most complicated things I will be doing today, and keeping my thoughts as simple as possible. I have to keep my brain organized.

Of course, keeping my thoughts simple is not that easy, but right now I'm trying to think about my medication and how to best deal with reducing it, because I'm seeing my psychiatrist tomorrow. I think I have come up with a plan, now that I've pondered over it for a good while, and I really want to discuss it with him. I think it's a good plan and I find it hard to wait until tomorrow, but I will have to. I think I will be feeling much better soon.

The sun has been shining all day, but it is only 2C outside and tonight it will be -5C, so it's quite chilly. It doesn't seem like it wants to be springtime yet. I did see a flock of geese flying north the other day. They must have been the optimists.

This post is taking me hours to write. I'm constantly distracted by my own thoughts and wander down a different path. I'm not worrying, I'm just thinking. You'd think by now somebody should have wondered why I have been depressed for months on end while I'm taking a mega dose of antidepressants. Make's you wonder, doesn't it? Maybe they aren't working at all. Depression, anxiety, stress, those are all the things the antidepressants are supposed to take away. Yet they haven't.

Ciao,
Nora

Reluctancy!

Because I am reluctant to spend too much time on the computer for fear that it will take over my life again to the point that it will start stressing me out, I am also reluctant to write a post for fear that I will have nothing interesting to say and that whatever I write will be a boring repeat of the previous one, and that causes me to have writer's block and lose every little bit of imaginative thought I might have had in my head to begin with. Nevertheless, I have to start writing sooner or later, although I do start and then delete and I have done this four times today already, only to shut off the computer with some distaste and to go do something else entirely different.

Tyke is sleeping beside me on the floor where Jesker would have been laying normally had he still been here. It is amazing how one dog so easily took the place of another dog, though it was not that easy for me, but to Tyke that's the place he has to be. I'm teaching him now not to be so subservient when I pet him and to not go lie down on his back with his belly up. I want him to stand or sit when I pet him and he is catching on. I can't stand a subservient dog and I don't want him to show that behavior at all. I know it's normal for young dogs to do it, but I don't have to like it.

It's been slightly raining all afternoon causing the snow to start slowly melting, which is good. The temperatures are going to be higher during the day for the rest of the week, so the rest of the snow will melt and I'm glad about that, because this morning things were slippery. Tomorrow it's actually going to be 6C. Isn't that wonderful? Maybe this is a harbinger of Spring. I hope so. I want to go around and watch green thing pop up. I have to have a good look in people's gardens. Maybe I will discover the beginnings of Springtime there. If all goes according to plan with the snow disappearing, I can go for a longer walk tomorrow and have a good look around. I'll see if those snowdrops are still around and if there are any crocuses coming up yet. I must have faith in that Spring will be here soon. I hang up my hope on that idea. I know I will feel a lot better emotionally once it is here.

Because it's so important that I don't feel any stress, this is just going to be a very short post. I do want to watch the six o'clock news and then watch the Olympics. I will do that nice and cosy on the sofa. I do want to take Tyke for another walk, though, and I'll have to squeeze that in before I do anything else. He's so funny on the leash. Hurry up and stop and hurry up again. Sometimes I almost trip over him.

Have a good evening!

Ciao,
Nora

At times...

At times you have nothing to say at all, or rather, nothing you can say, but you feel that you need to reach out and communicate anyway through putting down words, any words, insignificant words even, as long as you reach out and say something to somebody who is reading you. Tonight is one of those night when I could tell you many things, but am unable to for various reasons, and yet I so very much need to feel that I am in touch with all of you who read me and that this somehow is going to help me feel better and like not such a lonely, sore person.

I feel very alone tonight and am in desperate need of company, yet there is no company to be found anywhere beside the dog and the cats. My sister is in Tokyo and the Exfactor is at home a half an hour away from here. I have to get through this night on my own and I´m not doing that so gracefully up to now. I´m afraid I´ve cut myself in my arm in an effort to get rid of the bad feelings I was having and was unable to get rid off. I have carefully cleaned the wound and taped it closed and put an bandage around it and for now that will do. I hope that will do.

I don´t write that down to shock you or to get you to feel sorry for me, but to give you an idea of my state of mind, which is not good, of course. I´m in an awful place and you don´t want to follow me there. I promise not to lure you there, but to try and come out of it. To talk myself out of it. To help get me in a better mood I have turned on some music and I´m listening to Bjork now. There is drum music in it and its rhythm is like the rhythm of a fluttering heart beat and very strong. I have the base turned up high so it sounds extra nice.

I have let down my guard this weekend, which is something I should never do and had not planned on doing. It happened quite unexpectedly and by accident. Once I had let it down, I kept it down, despite a little nagging voice in the back of my head that was warning me of the potential danger. That voice became louder today and I listened to it and came to a conclusion and acted on it and made a decision. I am dealing with the fall out of it now and I hope I will be okay again tomorrow morning after I have seen my SPN at 9 am. God forbid that I should sleep late and not make it to that appointment.

I didn´t sleep well last night and as a result slept until noon this afternoon. I tried to get up a few times before that, but I was unsuccessful. Every time I got up, I was still stuck in quicksand until the final time when I felt good and able to face the world. I got deeply wounded between then and now. I will not allow myself to be hurt. I can not afford it. I will not fall into the trap again. I have built up my life so carefully to be self sufficient and autonomous and free of entanglements and I almost threw it away.

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I've slept on the sofa for a few hours and feel less melodramatic now, although equally sore. I mean sore on the inside. I accidentally closed this without saving it and I thought that if it was still here, I would continue writing it. If not, I wouldn't bother with the whole thing and as you can see, it was still here. That's fate for you. Fate determines whether or not you get to read this. I'm s great believer in fate and how it determines the course of your life. That doesn't mean I take it lying down, because I do protest, but in the end there is a reason for everything, I suppose, a cause for why things happen and a lesson to be learned from them, no matter how obscure it may look at first.

So I must draw my lessons out of this current episode. After I have gone through all the pain of it. Buddhism is a handy religion and I let it be my guide. There is no punishing God and revengeful Father. There is only the desire for insight and understanding and the search for peace and tranquility. Those are the states of mind I wish to find. It's too bad I need to go through the motions of the old religion first to get to the newer one. Everything in life is a journey through your old habits in a reaction to what happens to you, and you need to make the journey quicker and in a straighter line every time something happens, until you skip certain things altogether and not bother with them anymore.

And now I need to go to bed, because I'm awfully tired. My thoughts are becoming sluggish and my mind is slowing down. It will be good to lie down and go to sleep, I'm ready for it.

Have a good night.

Ciao,
Nora

Compulsion.

Feeling constantly driven to write, I have to do it now again, although I wrote a post during the night that no one has responded to yet. It doesn't matter, I write for myself at this point. It's an exercise in being alive and aware and letting my brain work around the details of my life, small and insignificant as they are. Let's face it, I certainly don't live a life of high drama and adventure. I only have high drama when things don't go well and I hit one of my low points and extensively write about it. Adventure never happens in my life anymore, that's a thing of the past, when I was younger and more daring and didn't give a hoot about the consequences. The most adventurous thing I do nowadays is cross four lanes of busy traffic on my bicycle, or ride over cobblestoned streets at high speed because I just came off the incline of the bridge, Yes, I do have to squeeze the hand brakes a little bit then to not hit those absentminded pedestrians that wander into the street.

So anyway, high adventure there is not, but I can write about anything under the sun and make a story out of it. I can dramatize the lives of my dog and cats, if I want. I just took the dog out and I noticed that he is actually a bit of a shy dog, because he saw a window washer and watched him from afar and gave him a wide berth. I don't know how much the glaucoma is influencing his vision, and what he actually sees, but he doesn't like to be surprised and shies away from people who suddenly show up in his immediate surroundings. Of course, he doesn't hear them, which is something people don't understand, and they can make the nicest sounds in the world, but he doesn't know what in the world they are talking about and can only tell by body language what their intentions are. He's not much interested in other people or dogs when we are outside. He really doesn't care very much. It's different if they come into the apartment. He likes visitors and will make sure he gets a lot of attention, and so do the cats, so anybody who comes here has to like animals very much.They will be besieged by them.

Gandhi just escaped into the stairwell and went for a roam around to the very top. I left the front door open on a crack, because rather than chase her, I've found out that she comes back of her own accord and it really doesn't take her that long, because she is afraid that she will miss out on something here. Like when the dog will get his food. I just have to make sure that Toby also doesn't disappear in the meantime, but he will come back too, only he hasn't figured out how to push open the door to come back in and sits there on the doormat meowing mournfully. Sometimes they escape through the outside door, but they know how to make their way around the block into the little patio and back into the apartment through the cat flap. They do it in no time at all. Cats actually are pretty smart animals and have a great homing instinct.

Well, that's what I've got too. You should see me on the way back home from downtown. It's like I'm pulled by magnetic forces toward the apartment. I peddle that bike so quickly, even though I go slightly uphill the whole way. All I can think about is to be home again with Jesker and the cats and to be in my own cozy surroundings where I can do what I will and sit and smoke and drink coffee and be absolutely decadent and anti social, Not that I don't enjoy it to be in good company, but I always look forward to my alone time. I'm just the lonesome cowboy type. Yes, me and a campfire and a pot of coffee, I can picture it now. And my horse Trigger tied up to a tree.

I've got to go to the tobacconist. I'm down to my last crumbs of tobacco. I very rarely let my supply dwindle that low. I suppose I like to live dangerously every once in a while. I'm smoking my second to last cigarette and then all the tobacco will be gone. It takes me three minutes to ride my bike over to the tobacco shop and I have to remember to buy stamps as well, because I have to mail a birthday card to my daughter.

I'm off then. I'm going to ride my bike into the crispy afternoon in which the sun is shining. Have your selfs a nice day and I will do the same.

Ciao,
Nora

A wee hours of the morning post.

Contrary to all well laid plans, I promptly fell asleep on the comfortable sofa last night at about 8 o'clock. I was fully dressed and just sort of toppled over sideways, but I don't actually remember a darn thing about it. It was a spontaneous sleep attack that struck me like a super bolt of lightening. It was an instantaneous case of falling soundly asleep and nothing could have stopped it.

It was very late when I woke up again and all the lights were burning brightly and the blinds were still open to the dark night and the TV was on. I changed into my comfortable pajamas and put my warm gray cardigan on to keep me from feeling chilled and took all of my medication, including my sleeping pill. I figured I would sit behind the trusty computer for about 20 minutes and be sound asleep in no time.

Well, several hours have passed and I am still stubbornly sitting behind the computer and I don't have a sleepy bone in my alert body yet. I must have a very strong constitution if I can defy a strong sleeping pill. Of course, I used to take them during the day to help me calm down, so I'm used to quite a large dose of them. I'm like a wild animal that needs an extra load of strong drugs to help put it into a deep sleep.

Instead of soundly sleeping, I'm trying to pay extra attention to my writing and trying to follow the exact rules of it. That means I write and read and edit, which is not something I normally do, but I have plenty of time for it now. I've made changes in every sentence I've typed, except this one. I don't have an education in writing literature and I don't know anything about grammar. All I know is what I've learned from reading many good novels. I'm an autodidact and writing in a second language (not the language of my childhood, and not the language I speak during the day).

In a little while, I'm going to do some painting and drawing. The Exfactor brought me another box of acrylic paints and he didn't want me to repay him for them. I though that was awfully kind of him. He does like to do me small favors like that and I appreciate them and let him know that too. I don't get all gushy, but thank him man to man, the way he can handle it.

Anyway, I'm going to do some painting and drawing and I think I have one that I have to finish still and I will start on a new one. I really want to make a real doodle, one that is completely abstract and that does not depict anything but shapes and forms, but somehow will look like something organic that is alive and could have come out of nature. Something like Sue's Doodles here. You have to have a lot of imagination and free association to be able to draw something like that and I am going to give it a try. It will be a test to see how loose I am in my artistic abilities to just let something emerge without forcing it to.

I have creative therapy again today and I don't know yet what I will do there. Several options are running through my head. I may just ask the therapist to give me an assigment. That way I will end up doing something I haven't done before. Which would be the smartest thing to do, of course. I am there to learn, after all, and to pick her brain, but I also have ideas of my own that I want to try out, so it's a toss up.

The things that have fallen completely by the wayside are the chores, but I'm not really concerned about them, because they will wait for me until tomorrow when I have the whole day off. I have to do the grocery shopping this afternoon and I'm not looking forward to that one bit. For some reason that causes me to feel stress and I don't like it. I'm trying to work my way around it and to figure out what the problem is exactly, but all I can come up with is a general unease about the whole thing and wanting to put it off indefinitely.

I think I feel very uncomfortable on my bike with it loaded down with all the groceries, but that's not the whole reason. There's more to it than that. I think that I don't feel entitled to be on the street and in the store and I'm afraid that someone will approach me and challenge my presence there, as if I'm not allowed to be there. As if I am a secondary citizen who doesn't have any rights and who so far is getting away with stuff, because she hasn't been caught yet. That's how it feels to be a person with a mental disability in a "normal" world.

Well, with that big confession I leave you. I must go draw and paint.

Have a good day once you wake up and find this. Feel free to share your thoughts with me.

Ciao,
Nora

Another early morning...

I got up so early, that it was almost yesterday. That is because I fell asleep on the sofa last night while watching television, and dragging myself to bed at 11 pm, after I had taken my medicines, and going straight to sleep without even turning the light on to read my book. I'd say I got a lot of sleep and when I woke up in the middle of the night, there was no doubt about getting up and making a cup of coffee.

Needless to say, I didn't work on a collage, because after I had showered and eaten dinner, I just didn't have the energy or inspiration to start one. I slept instead on my weekend sleep schedule that's always out of synchronization with the rest of the week. That's the joy of living alone, that you can decide your own hours to be awake and to be active in, without bothering anyone else. The sound of me tapping on the keyboard used to wake the Exfactor up and I know it bothered him tremendously. Maybe as much as his snoring bothered me.

It's really funny how a person can be awake at the most unusual hours and perform as if it is the middle of the day and have her complete brain function without any problem. You would assume that there would be a sort of jet lag effect, but nothing could be further from the truth. When I wake up in the middle of the night, it only takes me a little while to get my wits about me and to be as sharp as a tack. I can easily do a number of tasks well and probably sit for exams as well, as if it was any time during the day. Providing I had studied for them.

I don't think there is much difference in my mood during the morning or the nighttime, but I am more awake and aware in the morning, or I should say, whenever I just get up. I'm usually full of excitement to start the day and I wonder what it will bring and it doesn't have to be anything big, but at night I am ready to start winding down and I get sleepy and tired and I don't want to start any big projects that require a lot of my attention, unless it is a weekend night and I stay up longer than usual.

I'm not grumpy at any time of the day so I am not specifically a morning or an evening person. I guess when it comes down to it, you could say that I'm a middle of the night person, or a wee hours of the morning person. That's when I'm happiest. I like being up when the rest of the world is still asleep, or so I imagine, and I don't hear anything outside yet. I like the darkness all around me that's only punctuated by the few lights that I have on, specifically the desk lamp that points at the keyboard. I feel like I'm in my own little world and that I'm the only person in it and I only share it with the dog and the cats occasionally.

I suppose I like being at the center of my own universe, where I feel safe and solitary and where complications seem very far away and other people's influence can not be felt. I feel invincible and cocooned inside a well lighted cave, where no other creatures live but those that I invite. It's dry and warm in there and I suppose I'm like a bear waking up from her winter sleep. Alert and aware, but safe and sound.

I don't like other people's complications in my life and I keep them at bay as much as possible. That is, when I became aware of this dislike. I used to be a good Samaritan and wanted to help out everybody, but somewhere along the line I learned a lesson not to do that and to not unnecessarily complicate my own life with the problems of other people. I am a good listener and a good advice giver and I do that often and freely, but I do keep my distance and don't pull other people deeply into my life with the idea that I'm going to rescue them from their fate. My help and involvement always end at my doorstep. Of course, in being a good Samaritan there was also a question of pride involved, to assume I knew better and had all the solutions, while I had the biggest mess in my own hands that I was blind to.

You often see that with people who over involve themselves with the lives of other people. Very often they have a mess on their own hands that they can't solve or are even consciously aware of and go around fixing other people's lives. Very often they project their own problems onto the other person and in reality try to solve their own problems through solving the other person's problems, but they are unaware of this.

Anyway, I sit here and let my mind wander from one random thought to the next and see where it will take me. It's almost like creative writing and I take the words as they come and hardly change them. Just like I do when I write for one of my writer's websites. It's a stream of consciousness writing, but the person who talks is the adult me, who is the one who creates. Which means it's not unabashed writing, but writing with a certain amount of control and inhibition, because writing without inhibition would be spilling the beans and I don't know if I'm up to that, although you may think I've spilled the beans already.

It's one thing to appear open and honest with your words, it's another to conceal all the things that you also could have said, but didn't for the sake of propriety. There are always lots of things left unsaid, that we will only say when we are mean old ladies who no longer worry about what impression we will make and who's feelings we are going to hurt. When flattery is an alien concept to us. My intention is to become such a mean old lady and I hope I make it.

Well, those are enough thoughts for today. I don't want to overwhelm you. I could go on and on, but to what purpose when you have zoned out?

I hope you'll all have a lovely day with sunshine on top of it. As an added extra.

Ciao,
Nora