I was in the shed when the insistent tapping began on the shed wall, like a woodpecker on a tree only chicken on metal. It was one of the browns. She cocked an eye and looked at me.
Articles from Harrangue Man
"Because you're a fucking head fuck!"My words just failed me whilst solo-raging. I'm usually more erudite. I tried looking in the mirror when doing it---a suggestion from a doctor to try to stop these moments---but I looked awesome in angry oratory mode so clearly objectivity while mad drops off as well.Emotion; it clouds the logic but it's part of being human.
As long noted the path to mental health recovery is more like a dance than a linear journey given there are steps you take back even as you aim to dance forward. I've been down this path a few times now since the injury where I'll be coping, even thriving, then suddenly—WHAM!—straight back into a moment or moments that wrenched my core being.There's one technique where you write a letter about how you feel.
All the classic elements of a rager were there---a mega spew that got hosed off the patio, someone sitting on the neighbour's roof because they could and a delighted screamed demand for "a third moustache!". As an added bonus in spite of the party fuel there was no violence like last year when someone copped an unprovoked gut punch.Fuck I love children's birthday parties.
We got adult-sized boxing gloves for the stand-up punching bag. I wanted to see if I could topple the bag with a punch.I could---the punching bag fell over and on to the fig tree. The tree snapped. It got revenge in death---the snapped-off trunk stabbed a hole in the bag.Suffice to say no one was impressed, least of all the tree's owner who "only had it for seven years."That's a tree-laced relationship fail.
theboy had to get dressed but before leaving the room opened his musical birthday card that blares the chorus from "Who let the dogs out?" and took it with him as he receeded into the depths of the house where his lair lies.So he played himself out of the room. When I return to the workforce then perhaps I'll do the same."Well, all, that was a great meeting and I'll see you next time!" (cue music) "Who let the dogs out? Who? Who? Who? Who?" (door slams).
I went on an outside ride but got trapped in angry-cry-yell cycle for the entire cycle. Nearing the end and wanting to do something positive to counter the negative state I put myself in I bought the chickens some Pringles. I did a Pringle dash when I got home.
I got caught picking at my face by my son and he told me off. So I left the room and hid near the wardrobe to pick there. It took a manifest summoning of will to stop, get the cream and put it on. After I had a shower, as soon as the wound as dry, I doused it with cream. I can go a few hours without touching then I'm at it again.
Exercise is typically hard for me. It's okay on an actual bicycle riding outside; on a stationary bike it's not much fun. It's a grind. Today was not as grindy as usual—and a nul state is better than a negative state.So it's evenness for the win I suppose in that it wasn't shit like it usually is. I'll take real sea level over dead sea level any day. EFTW.
I had a friend into the shed and his bum was sore for sitting on the little red chair. So we swapped places.He removed the newspaper covering the shit cushion before sitting down. He did not see the stain before seating. I didn't have the heart to tell him why the newspaper was there but then he's a nurse so I am sure he would understand if I had. Perhaps it's time to just get a new cushion—and try not to taint it with my taint.