Atop the BYB I gain about two inches and thanks to it being a trike—three wheels for greater stability and strength—I can simply sit when I come to a stop to do things like find out on my phone where the fuck I am. I'm like a bikder—a bicycle drider with the latter the half-Drow, half-spiders from D&D; three wheels for eight legs.
Articles from Harrangue Man
Anxiety is self-fulfilling. I was dropping things—more than usual—and it was frustrating. Then it was anxiety-inducing because it reminded me of the injury and that made me anxious. The more anxious I got the more my hands trembled and more my hands trembled the more anxious I got. I wanted to try and put the replacement bell on the bike but I dropped the screwdriver three times. In the end I walked away because it was too frustrating.
I was aboard the BYB and had stopped dead at the base of an arched overpass when I attempted to ride forward.
It's a rainy Anzac day in the nation's capital and not fit for outside riding. So it's exercise bike time which, as it turns out, is not that fun.
I had an Epic Cook Off—in title case so I can intialise to ECO. It was sparked by a casual mention of a topic and it cut straight through my ego defence and I lost it; I had fight AND flight. I ended up crying in the street and it took about an hour to come down from it. Fully ghastly. I had to have a couple of drinks and a shower to take the edge off; my top was soaked from rage and scare sweat. I loathe that I had an ECO—it's been a while since I had one.
A shard slipped between my top front teeth and sliced into the webbing of my gum. It fucking hurt. I had to douse the shard in pepsi to remove it.I don't like food that fights back.
I have PTSD and one of my triggers is loud and unpleasant noises.There's tree lopping happening. The noise is monstrous. I stood outside the shed and bathed in it, getting used to it, until I'd had enough then calmly got earphones and distanced myself. My tolerance for this audio shit has increased; it is not forcing me to flee. I have protection on but can still discern it but the discernment is not causing the trigger to pull.I am astounded at what I can cope with now.
Me---"I may be a big person with big problems but at least I have a big helicoper!"theboy---"You don't have a helicopter."Me---"True."
thewife fixed the gears so I took the BYB for a super ride. I went to a part of town I've never been to and followed a path to see where it ended; puffing lightly as the bike and I forged up a hill.The path ended at the literal edge of town, in a paddock with the freeway a short way away. I furtled back, zipping through yet more streets I have never been in before. Then I got some Pringles for the chickens.
The BYB is mostly good---save for the gear chain slipping---and I've been riding it out and about my neighborhood. Today I went out farther than I've been and zipped about places I've only experienced walking or driving.It was zen; the riding, the breath, the wind and the speed.BYB is a pleasure machine.WFTW.