Before I ride the exercise bike I hang up my number plate style pre-weathered NO ENTRY sign on the shed door. I'm easily startled and with PTSD and the bike facing away from the door I can potentially trigger if someone comes in behind me whilst making the unpleasant sound of the door opening.The sign, however, flaps in the wind and makes nasty noises when it clatters against the door.
Articles from Harrangue Man
I started the day in a deep anger panic attack about childhood trauma where I was crying and using music and CBT to drive the demon away.Then I had three Valium and lay on my bed to de-tox then got an awesome call that was positive and affirming. So it was bizarre.
I had a bliss out reaction to a success and it triggered an anxiety attack—I cried for about three minutes then had three Valium. They seem to have kicked in. When you live in an anxious state even good news can fire if it's related to traumas past.But, if you are going to have an attack, it is the best way to get one; a "death by snu-snu" moment.WFTW.
I had a deep chat with a friend about a task that seemed quixotic, thus futile, then I argued what if instead of a psychotic break the Don knew it was a windmill and he had a hammer. If so, then exit windmill.Then he made me re-frame it.
In ill-attempted missionFreshly re-introduced to the love of dairy, having discovered my intolerance lifted, after a psych appointment to debrief on the super sorry I furtled to McDonald's and got sundaes and shakes. Yeah ... so there was nothing in the basket to put them in and keep them from sliding about in their tray.
I got to say sorry to someone I harmed through inaction. It weighed on me for years but I got to say face-to-face that I had fucked up and that it should not have happened.There's some cartharsis and the clawing guilt has receeded. It was one of those deathbed regrets put to bed well ahead of death. That is a win in anyone's book.
I'm reading about the history of magical thinking in US culture and how many preachers had gotten into the game because they survived a disaster and that therefore God had saved them for the purpose to preach.Fuck that shit with a red hot fork. Try nearly dying a hundred times; there's no divine Providence, just dumb luck you didn't die.What a bunch of lightweights.
I wasn't whisper shouting at the wall itself but what lay beyond it, another time and place that is past and future both.Bug-eyed with measured quiet outrage I lanced at wall with angry talk.Then realised what I was doing and got back into bed.I'm a dramatic person; even in my own room and with a wall as subject and audience.
It was at the end of the first episode of The IT Crowd that prompted this recall when the lads of the IT department are in a series of photographs of them at the fair where they're in extreme excitement in the company of middle-aged and bored dutch prostitutes. This is the photo from the dodgem cars:
I had "Forever Young" stuck in my head and it is a song I find irritating because to be "forever young" is to die young but, in theory, having lived the best of your years on earth which, allegedly, is your tweens to the end of your twenties.It's also the age category when we lost prime manhood to the predation of industrial warfare V dickheads who didn't understand industrial warfare.