So I went and spent shabbos with a guy I know and it was ok. Food was good, nice to be shomer shabbos again, went to the mikvah and washed off the last of the Wifeish as far as I'm concerned - an introduction to Burn Notice - those were good points, and well worth the trip.
But there were bad ones too.
More below the dooblydoo.
General catching up diary, keep your "so lucky to be taken in", mental health misconceptions and general dickish comments to yourself and move on if that's not your thing. I am not in the mood for bullshit. Advice about SSDI, challenges with mental illness from experience, weird friends, Doctor Who, the awesomeness of Burn Notice - sure. Fapfapping and snide Diet Pepsi comments, demands for Torah exegesis because you have theories men suck - prepare for ventilation. Got it?
Too much alcohol. I'm not a big fan in general, and because of the meds I seldom drink at all - so just a couple l'chaims and I'm glassy eyed and uncomfortable. My friend - he likes to drink. Here, have a beer. Let's have some more. How about some scotch... maybe some bourbon... wine with dinner, vodka at lunch... it just seemed soaked in booze to my standards. While I said no frequently, it still bothered me.
He was not only bothered by my diagnosis, but decided he needed to inform me on his thoughts about how I became mentally ill and how it's my home life that caused it. Not that he knows anything about my home life, or my mental illness - he just is one of those guys. Never mind the growing evidence that these types of illness run in families, that certain types of brain issues can give you predispositions to them - it's someone else's fault and it makes him uncomfortable and we should talk about his issues and how unfair things are for him not having a perfect life. Try living with it, pal.
The rabbi was also interesting... We had a spirited discussion on the walk to his house of workers rights and poverty - and hey, it's poor people's fault for being poor and not having insurance according to him. That's what G-d gives them because they don't deserve any better.
I naturally called shenanigans on that bullshit, pointing out the Torah says that tzadakah is owed to the poor - righteousness, not "charity" - that the poor, widow and orphan must be cared for, that a worker must be paid his wages on the day he works, that you cannot hold the cloak of a poor man as collateral overnight - because it might be his blanket - that to save a life is to save an entire universe. But hey, what do I know, right? I'm not a rabbi making my livelihood off the "donations" of others. I'm just a stupid poor guy who didn't see fit to be born into a rabbinical family.
I have learned over the years to avoid both eye contact and giving your complete Hebrew name spares you the potential humiliation of being called to the Torah - that's a relief at least. I had tried to sleep in - there was no cat hair, I could sort of breathe, I had several large blisters on my right foot from the 5 mile walk the night before - but they needed a tenth man and I was it. So I was dragged out of bed and limped the half mile to shul anyway. It's not that I don't know the blessings - I do - I just don't like the potential for flubbing them in front of strangers. It was the parsha with the Ten Commandments in it - a personal favourite - and one all Jews from the elderly to infants are required to hear, so it was ok, but I wish I could have slept more.
Air mattresses are also uncomfortable on shabbos because you can't blow them back up if they have a slow leak. This proved to be awkward and affected my ability to sleep, which is already compromised by the meds a great deal. Only sleeping 3-4 hours at a time takes a toll after months of it. My eyes get so sore - between the allergies and the lack of decent sleep they feel like they are on fire most of the time and tear up at too strong of a blink - it made the drive home miserable. Did I mention the car A/C is dead? Oh yeah, fun times.
I'm staying away from Tumblr and youtube and anything to do with Alex Kingston (and even Doctor Who) because it just makes things worse for me and my semi-belief we are dating. I wish she wasn't so damn awesome. I dream about the sound of her laughter.
I had an appointment today and missed it - I fell into one of my "naps" and even with 2 alarms and ColCatLady mumbling at me to get up - I slept through until what would have been the end of it and had to reschedule. Friday. Hopefully I can stay awake long enough to get there this time.
My meds will likely have to be adjusted - and that means the potential for even more of the one that packs on the pounds. Great. I don't eat badly or even that much - but since I only have a serious work out once a week - I am struggling with my weight and the harpy of Mum who is on her latest diet kick and in full fat shaming mode.
I hear the voices more frequently, sort of a muted babble like I'm hearing people talk in another room or the tv or radio is left on a station that only I can hear. During my 3 or 4 naps a day I have vivid colour dreams of different places and times, going to sleep "there" means waking up here, even if it's only for a few minutes before dropping off again and going somewhere else.
I went through a number of CDs on the trip because there was some music that immediately started the belief I was getting secret messages - I can't do long distance driving in silence or with something I loathe on, but I had to change CDs quickly to stem the tide of thought cascades that come with the "secret messages."
I've also found myself more religious in general - and for me that is a bad sign as well. The deep yearning for frumkeit means I'm looking for some kind of structure to hold onto when shit gets all weird for me. I get more and more extreme - how do you think I ended up with the (not) sexy peyos and fur hat??? - hoping that G-d will make it stop because I don't want to be Moshiach. Awk-ward!
Yesterday I managed to do laundry and vacuum the carpet - getting rid of some of the allergens in here - mostly dust and cat hair. I also noticed Nigel is losing hair on his belly and I want to take him to the vet - Mum insists that's "normal" - bullshit. He didn't have missing hair before we came here - and he didn't have butt problems either. So now I have to work on them to cough up for that - or wait until I get my "allowance" next month and do it myself. But he looks thinner (everyone gets diet cat food, they even fat shame the animals) and just doesn't seem himself. I hope it's nothing serious.
I hope to hear from a lawyer that specializes in SSDI cases soon - I have a limited window of opportunity to appeal and I'm not sure how much longer I can hold things all together, frankly. My body hurts, my mind hurts, my soul hurts. I stare off into other places during the hours I'm awake, and I sleep 12 - 16 hours a day in 3-4 hour naps. I have no concentration, no feelings of any real magnitude - I can't get angry or sad or much of anything really. The simplest tasks can be ridiculously complicated. Everything has to be broken into these baby steps to even accomplish them - from putting dishes in the sink to brushing my teeth.
And weirdly, strange underpants keep showing up in the wash. They are closest to my size - but brands I've never heard of and y fronts - I hate those things. Smooshes your junk all up. But no one seems to know why they keep showing up in my parents wash - I do my separately. ColCatLady keeps insisting they're mine - and no... they are not. My brother is tiny, and hasn't been here since December so they aren't his either. Just WEIRD.