Yesterday I rode the exercise bike for the first time since my mystery fall—which may have been due to low blood pressure if my new meds had "corrected" too far the other way—risking contact with my slightly receded leg egg as I peddled.Because when I ride my legs are splayed, with my right leg even further more splayed than the average peep due to the shoddy gestational nature of my lower limbs (cowboy builders!), I was able to do it without rubbing against the egg.
Articles from Harrangue Man
I've lost count but this time I tripped and fell forward and barely caught the arm rest instead of dashing my skull against the radiator and bleeding out on the carpet. That or suffering brain damage; yay, the only part of me that works in a "shine on you crazy diamond" kind of way. So I dodged yet another near death; and as a confirmed "bright"—those of us confirmed we are here for one life and with blaze with as much intensity while can—that would be a shitty way to have gone. I talked to t
I've got a massive leg egg, where tissue swells on the inside of your thigh creating a subcutaneous lump that feels solid and is tender to the touch and agony to walk with.Out of desperation I found a cold chemical based pain spray for sport injuries and sprayed the fuck out of the leg egg.Only I didn't screen my balls when I sprayed and the cold mist caught them in the back blast.I have a hot water bottle between my legs to keep the egg from pressing against my other leg and as an immediate
I woke after bad dreams, read for a while and slept again, bad dreams stealing back.When I woke again I found I'd sweated through the top sheet from bad dream writhing.The dreams were a fusion of old family and new and old work; blended in a horror smoothie---or sweatie in this case. The plot fled on waking but it spawned a few loopers during the day.
I got caught in an angry crying loop about (insert here) and only broke out of it when I sat down to do my move in my play by email D&D game. It's a sphere outside of trauma where I have joy.I told myself a number of times I was looping and needed to break out of it but then went off on a new tangent.Next time I will try to remember to treat a loop like an ambush; recognise you're in one, pick a direction a fire and move through it. WFTW.
That we have to go through this postal ballot farce that ends with a parliamentary vote anyway is bonkers. The vote could happen now instead of by post then vote. Well since it's a go for the post then vote I look forward to ticking yes and sending it back. Then, at Xmas, I can remind my dad that gays now have that word too.
thewife saw my sad melange of newspaper, a sheet of A4 paper and stained cushion and got me a new cushion.for the seat in the shed. I have tried a bathmat as the protective cover but I had to double it up and its leathery tendrils drill uncomfortably into my bum. So I'll try a towel.It was a bit sad seeing that sight of seating bedlam but I just wasn't that fussed.
I got a card for Fathers Day. theboy wrote he loves me even when he's mad at me.That meant a lot. I had a brusing childhood where I was made to feel useless and broken. He will never feel that way about himself. He won't get a swelled head---we'll make sure of that---but he will never feel unloved or that he is worth less than others. The best revenge is doing well; so fuck you, universe, I win.
The gate to the pen was open enough for the chickens to get out; I discovered this when having a coffee and looking out the window and saw two of the browns pecking their way through the green of the garden.All five were out and when they saw me coming they clustered under the lower limbs of the hiding tree where I could not reach them.The broom could though and I waved it about under the tree to goose them loose and direct them into the fenced off area near the washing line.I can't bend with
I had another go at my facial scar ridge for most of the day. At 3 pm I put the cream on.I can't stop having a go at it and I'm usually spacing out while doing it, trapped in a dark cloud of memory.I'll try better tomorrow. It's gratifying to have at even though it stings for the eight hours of pick, pick, pick.Fucking OCPD twixt PTSD---plus there's only one vowel and there's one tile too many.