Wat R Werds

I have sucked at writing in this thing recently.  (Well, always)

I have planned out a lot of entries in my head over the last week, now they are all lost to the fog of my terribad memory.

For the last week (and because I don't have classes on Thursday or Friday, mostly since the day of my last post) I have been on mid-semester break.  I had one big bit of school work I needed to do over the break.  It is now basically the Sunday that is only one day before class is back and I have done nothing.  I still haven't even read the question.
Basically, my stress levels about the paper I am only doing to avoid insanity were pushing me far closer to breaking point than makes any sense - so I have just taken a mental time out from it.
now I am going to have to stress through my last day of the break to sort all the shit I have avoided.
Fuck it all.

On the day of my last post my pathfinder game was called off because David had a thing, which was a shame as we haven't played in ages and it is almost over.  I mean, part of me is glad it is getting drawn out a bit longer to hold the end off, but it also needs done.
The following night I finally got to see David, it had been ages, and also Simon (for whom the rarely seeing him thing is becoming unfortunately usual).  I really miss when I got to have dinner with the two of them every week.  It was good for me to be confident of time around people I like who I am mostly confident also like me.  Instead the person I see most regularly these days is the Semi-Imaginary One, who I am far less confident likes me back.
I think I went Friday through Monday only getting so much as dressed the one time I went to get some food.  Otherwise it was just wallowing in self-pity and feeding my life to Surviving Mars, which is such a timethief of a game.  A game that has eaten almost my whole break.

On Tuesday I went to the pool with Tina before heading to my first appointment with my new GP.  He seems pretty good.  Though is also a child (can barely be older than 30), and far too much what 20-something me would have awkwardly crushed on.  Then I went for bloodtests.  They did not go well.  I got an old lady phlebotomist and got my hopes up, old nurses are great, but then she ignored my suggestion and went for exactly where I had asked her not to and fucked it up.  She dug around inside with the needle and did a bit of damage but failed to get any blood.  A young nurse came and took over and was quick, smooth and painless.  I don't know what that old woman did, but that is not what I expect from the Southern Community Labs.
After going home, tidying up and putting one of those weird new hydro seal band-aids over the gouge she put in my arm (the bandage even changed colour and rose up in the exact shape of the damage she did, which had far too much of a line effect for something done by a needle). I headed to town for the weekly group hang with the Semi-Imaginary One's flat.  Nothing about my relationship makes sense so I shall make no effort to explain it.
In fact, I was watching a making of until far too late.  It is going on 1am, I need to go sleep.  Will hopefully come back to this in the actual morning rather than the technical one.

[Next morning - should make new entry but adding on here instead]
Anyway, Tuesday night had me feeling about as confident about my relationship as is possible when my one date night of the week was cut short for the third or fourth week running because the daily gym session had been postponed from earlier in the day and thus had to cut into date night.  The Semi-Imaginary One has mostly entirely ignored me since - even seemingly ignoring most of my texts.
So winning.

On Wednesday, I finally sorted myself, and was confidently not full of cold enough, to visit my grandmother in her new resting home.  It seems pleasant enough as a cage to throw unwanted old people in, but she is seriously unhappy about it all.  She had a long rant about how everything had been decided for her without some much as her even being given the illusion of having a choice in anything.  Which is understandable, my mother is good at getting what she wants out of people and tends to bulldoze through with whatever idea she has got into her head - though will swear afterward she was only doing what was wanted (and because of her special relationship with the world, she probably even believes that).  And she is pretty upset about how little say she is being given in anything to do with the sale of her house - something I agree with entirely after Oli showed me the government funded scheme that would let her keep ownership and allow a much better chance she will actually be able to leave assets to the people she wanted to, but which my mother is firmly against for reasons she refuses to discuss.  I stayed about an hour and a half and left when I did so she could properly talk to friends that had arrived.  As I went down the hallway I could hear her gloating about how I had turned out so well because she had done such a large chunk of raising me.  It seems that I count amongst her personal victories.
Then in the evening I hung out with friends, eating curry and playing some of Carla's special pathfinder.

Thursday I finally booked my haircut on the day I had intended to have it for, so my hair is not being cut until the day before I need to look nice. I will fail to look nice in all the ways because I am gross looking (I say as someone who has broken out in that special type of acne that is supposed to be for teenagers in the days before the big dance, not for middle-aged fagnutses with an event that shouldn't even be a thing).
Then I went to the preliminary appointment for a scientific study that asked me to join.  It confirmed that I am what they want in a test subject.

Friday, attack of the wobbling unsteadiness and feeling gross.  Watched Carnival Row while playing more of that Surviving Mars game.  Ordered delivereasy for dinner as I was having trouble with being upright.  Spent the entire day in my PJs.

Saturday, much like Friday but with worse wobblies, exhaustion (sleep disturbed by neurological bullshit) and now watching the new Dark Crystal series (which is pretty good).  In the evening I though I was recovered a bit so went for a walk.  I discovered when walking past the supermarket that I had been so sick that I hadn't eaten all day, and so spent about $50 on mostly junk (I made some dumb and weird choices, I may have also been a little out of it).  Then went past a noodle house and discovered how much I was shaking, by how much I fail to get my dinner into my mouth hole.
Sometimes walking is very bad for my health/waistline.

The pressure to look nice for this thing I am going to on Wednesday has triggered all my worse anxiety things.  I may have pulled out all my hair before I even get to the hairdresser.
And again, I am spiralling over something that entirely doesn't and shouldn't matter.

Too broken to human.

Winning as usual

Got up to call Student health and make a preliminary psych appointment.  They were closed for a staff meeting.
By the time I was supposed to ring back, I was having a cry instead.

Not as on top of things as I would like.  And feeling extra guilty about it after telling the Semi-Imaginary One that I was sorting getting myself more sorted.  It was an exaggeration.


And SO full of snot today.  Where did it all come from?

On the human condition

Oversharing things that no person would ever want to talk about with me, or to read.

I woke up with that I could go use the toilet but I don't need to feeling.  Got up, had breakfast and meds.  Watched some youtube and then got the 'actually, go use the toilet now'.
So much.
Being left feeling like my guts had been punched from the inside.
And I was left thinking 'how could a human poop this much?'
Because I am insane this quickly spiralled into 'if I pooped this much how can I be human?'
And then 'if I'm not human, what am I?'

My brain is very quick to dehumanise me and thus remove me from the all-humans-have-value thing.  Separating my conviction that I have no value from my belief that humans do helps with the structuralist approach to the world that parts of my brain like.
Because rules for category sets.

Anyway, then Tina turned up and took me aqua-jogging for a couple of hours.  I done exercise again.

Two points of weirdness in changing rooms.  You pick the spot that seems the most isolated when you put down your stuff before you shower.  You go shower, and come back to find you are set up in the middle of a clump containing everyone in the place.   But moving your stuff now makes it too clear you are trying to not be near people, so you are stuck being awkwardly too near al the people.  People only metres away.
It is irksome.
People should not put themselves near my bags.

Other weirdness.  Guys who, in front of the mirror, dry themselves very slowly while constantly staring at their reflections.
Dude.  If you want to fuck your reflection so much get a full length mirror at home.  Other people don't want to see that.


And well I am talking about stuff no-one would ever want to know.  Prostate cancer, I am pretty much giving it to myself.  In the ...... twelve fucking years.... since I got sick I have not remotely managed the protective behaviours against it.  I have mostly either been single or in a basically sexless relationship for so many years, and taking care of it manually just seems like far too much work.
Young me would be horrified at what I poor effort I now make.  But the studies say at least 21 times a month and, damn, that just sounds like too much work to even bother trying.

Breaking news: Trainwreck of a human is finding his dumpster fire of a life to be going sort of okay.

Last Friday I went to Oturehua for the weekend.  After a trip to the supermarket where Oli's spawn demanded I be the only one to push the trolley or remove the pieces of pith from his mandarin, we drove the two-ish hours up the Pigroot (the wikipedia seems to miss the fact that part of it runs alongside the Pigroot creek).  Then after the setting up and chatting to Oli's people, and a quick walk so the spawn could examine the river, we had really good nachos for dinner.
People most had an early night, leaving Oli and I chatting, while I demolished soda water and he got a bit drunk, for about five hours.  So much talking about stuff.  Disapproval that I keep trying to make things work with the Semi-Imaginary One featured heavily.  We also had a long discussion about how we both went through school thinking that the other one was better at people.

On Saturday it snowed.
Not a lot, just enough to to be able to say it snowed.
Mostly we sat around talking as some more people turned up.  I feel we did other stuff, but it has been too long and I am getting senile.  There was amazingly decorated, delicious, cake.
In the evening we had a very good roast dinner (I think the "roast" itself was slow cooked and only the spuds actually roasted, but the result was pretty awesome either way).  Then a bit after nine a group of us headed to Ranfurly to watch the rugby at the Ranfurly Hotel.  I wore my Elvira jumper, it was not appreciated by the backwoods-hick locals.  The rugby was kind of watchable, and NZ got its arse handed to it.

Sunday I woke up and found myself utterly unable to read the book I was working on.  By the time we went for a walk up the street to the shops it was clear I was too over-extended.  I was already starting to fall apart at the edges.  Migraine and the failing of attempts to be functionally human.  Was not winning.
Fortunately for me, my father drove all the way up from Dunedin just to rescue me and drive back down again.  I had intended to repay him with conversation, but I kept fading out and ended up full on sleeping a chunk of the way.  Then I got home to do some study, but mostly just slept instead.

Monday, I made it to the class I otherwise would have still been in Central and missed.  So yay again for my dad.  I briefly visited my grandmother in hospital (hopefully for the last time for a while - as she got out on Wednesday - now I have to human enough to visit her somewhere more out of my way).  Otherwise the dad was too much sleeping and not enough study for my test.

On Tuesday morning I went aquajogging with Tina and then came home for some pretty on-task study.  Late afternoon I went to town and had hung out with the Semi-Imaginary One and his flatmates for a few hours.  It was a pleasant distraction but ended a bit early as he had missed his regular midafternoon gym session and needed to make it up.
We still have some pretty major problems.  His prioritising everyone else in his life over me is an ongoing source of a lot of stress on things.  That and how he goes vague whenever actual answers are requested.
Then home for more study.

Wednesday morning, I got up early and crammed some more.  I was feeling pretty confident I had everything sorted, then went to The Tart Tin on my way in to uni, having just discovered the night before that it has a Wednesday morning shop.  I was unimpressed with the apple doughnut.  Also, I had a recollection that I was first told about the Tart Tin at the farmers market it was by middle aged women talking about how hot the baker was.  I might be coloured by having heard his voice before I saw him but, honestly, I can't see anything of what I had been told.  Fit doesn't make hot, a dingus is still a dingus.
Then there was the test.  It did not go well.  My senile old brain went blank on things I had been quietly chanting to myself successfully all morning.
Then I came home and watched some a trash supervillian film, Brightburn, and then some Critical Role until it was Wednesday game time at Carla and Ian's.  I have such a stupid character and I am deeply happy with it.

Thursday, I watched more Critical Role and played some Under Rail.  The result was mostly making myself sick by spending too much of the day with my eyes doing stuff.  Vision fucks over my brains ability to brain.

Today I mostly spent in bed.  Dozing and finished reading Madeline Miller's Circe.  I didn't get up until about five in the evening.
High point of today was watching the new Zim as it came up on Netflix.
Otherwise super lazy day, because my body gave me little to no choice on the matter.

Constantly angry at myself

Tuesday I got ready for swimming then both my swimming buddies arrived at mine independently and in tears.  It was a morning of women crying over stuff going awfully in their lives, and running some errands, and eating injectable doughnuts from Nova.  We never did swim.
Then I got home just in time to wash, dress and go to my tutorial.
After the tutorial was weekly date with the Semi-Imaginary One.  It was awkward as fuck.  The group hang gave him a human shield for the first couple of hours, first the regular hang and then tripping through multiple supermarkets (for full shops, thrice) and then the supermarket.  public spaces being very obviously used to avoid having to have any sort of serious conversation.
When we finally got back to his it turned into a bit of a shit show.  The fundamental problem is that I really want to believe him, but he keeps doing things that makes believing him a highly illogical thing to do.  I cried rather a lot and let him away with basically no explanation.  Worse, and explanation that boils down to "nothing is currrently happening with the guy claiming to be my actual boyfriend, anything that happened is years in the past" but with the problem being that the timeline the other guy claims still puts that after the period where the Semi-Imaginary One and I had got into exchanging L-bombs and very much contradicts things I have been told explicitly on other occasions.
Hopefully this is just the immense vagueness of the explanation making things look a lot worse than it is.  But I am really hurting.
I don't even know why I am surprised, vagueness and truth-bending have been pretty standard from him.  And still I have stayed around, because I fell in love like the fucking moron that I am.
And I apologised a bunch for being upset, and for creating an environment where he has come to expect that being a dick to me in forgivable and fine.  Because I have to blame everything on myself, even to someone who at best is regularly dickish in his treatment of me (or, if being super generous, poor at communication of changed plans and always prioritising me below everyone else in his life) and growing evidence suggests is possibly all-around bad news.
And he wouldn't even come up my stairs to get the part of his birthday present that was too big to take with me to class, it will have to be thrown out as it is perishable and it seeming extremely unlikely it will get to him while still good, being I have had it since last Friday (ie, fresh the day I thought it was going to be given).

On Wednesday I started to cry in my lecture.  Fortunately I was up the back and could hide in my hoodie.  But it was not fun and the kid in the row in front of me was pretty creeped out.
Wednesday night featured curry and Pathfinder character building with Carla and Ian.  Was a good escape from moping.  though terrible in the reminder that even when having a good time, the Semi-Imaginary One replying to a text in a timely fashion makes me feel stupidly happy.  I feel a psych professional would have things to say.  They would not be good things.  Sometimes I entirely understand why my behaviour leads some of my friends to assume I am hiding an abusive relationship.  I am pretty certain it isn't, just neglectful.  Though the PhilosophyTube episode on abusive relationships struck some random odd cords, I think that it was more to do with my being broken than anything actually being done to me.

Thursday, after now six nights of basically no sleep, my body 'nope'd my plans for the day by deciding it would give me only a very limited ability to stand up or move.  So I spent all of yesterday in my PJs, mostly just zoning out to Critical Role and taking in none of anything.  Also, a bit much crying.

Hopefully the crying in out of my system as I am off for a weekend in central mid-afternoon today.  And an audience would make things pretty awkward, especially as i don't want to force my friends to have to hate the Semi-Imaginary One.  I still (stupidly, I suspect) hope things can work out and end up a functional relationship - we have both expressed L-bombs and an interest in growing old together - so I don't want to poison my friends against him.  Though, if I am being honest, most of my friends seem to have got there on their own.  (Another of the reasons I have given the link to this blog to only about three of my friends, and those all people too busy with their own lives to check it often/ever - my read count, however, does suggest someone has stumbled upon things.)

I am shouting into the void here.
No one need listen.
The void shall hear me as it eats my voice.
Eats my pain.

I should eat some breakfast.  And I managed a few hours sleep, so am totally completely, fully functional for my trip away.....  not going to go horribly at all.

Hrmm

Weird day.  Much crying.  No resolution.

Life

It was a snow day and I walked to uni for class in the cold.   There was no snow down near sea level, but it was not a warm walk in.  I got to class and the lecture didn't even get through the housekeeping and introduction before the building lost power and the lecture was cancelled, we were sent instructions to watch the recording of last years version.

Why did I get out of bed?  And wash?  And leave the house?

I am not doing great and wasted effort doesn't help.

Though Dad got me some groceries on the way home so I sulked my way through too much sugary goodness once I got home.
Only after I made surprisingly delicious beef satay for dinner did I finally get around to half-arsing my way through the assignment I had been putting off all weekend.  It is terrible, but I don't care.

Homework and Snow

Today started well on the homework front.  I actually started my assignment, but then I got distracted by getting ready for lunch with my family.

Since I got home from lunch I have watched too much TV and watched snow fall outside my windows a couple of times.  And I have done absolutely nothing related to my assignment.  And I only had the easiest section done, and done with pop culture references and sass that will likely get me marked down.
They have communicated expectations very poorly and I am kind of fucked off about it.

I am also falling behind in the paper, even though that one paper is all I am doing with my life.  Falling behind makes caring so much harder.

My life as a whole is making caring about school hard.

I may have to concede that I am too sick to be studying.  I thought I was more recovered and good to go.


And now, while sleepy and still failing to start the actual readings for my assignment, I have instead decided to try and pick a text-fight with the Semi-Imaginary-One, who won't participate because he never does.  The moment a conversation gets awkward or person he just vanishes from it.  Even in person he is pretty skilled at escaping them.  I should probably just go to bed.  This assignment can be tomorrow's problem  - though last time that made this a last minute scramble of awful and I really wanted to not make that mistake again.

Readers.

For the first time since I got back from Canada the oddly-hard-to-trigger read counter on this thing has gone up.
This is weirdly unsettling.  People reading a publicly published thing should not seem like a worrying sign, but it does.

I suspect I have been venting so much insanity into the world that people have caught on a little to how poorly my coping strategies have been coping of late.

I mean, I am pretty sure Carla doesn't have the link to this, but she still knew to kidnap me and put me in front of a fire all surround by friendly company for the day.  It made for a much better Saturday than i would have inflicted on myself.

I spent the morning waiting on the slight hope the Semi-Imaginary One would drop by, after he had implied he would.  I really should know better.

And not it is after midnight and I am ranting on my blog about the fact of my blog.

Winning like a mother-cussing champion.



I need to go to bed, as I am starting to convince myself it is someone hunting for the proof to get me sectioned.  When I logically know it is just a friend trying to work out what stupid reason I have to keep putting up with someone Semi-Imaginary.

Birthday dinners without me.

It is the Semi-Imaginary One's birthday.  He went off for a dinner to celebrate it, I was very clearly not invited.  This is pretty normal for us.  Today it just stings because there has been growing evidence that he is up to things he has explicitly promised me that he isn't up to.

Today, after I posted a birthday message on his Facebook wall, I got messaged by someone explaining they were his partner and didn't approve of my tone.  It is the same guy who the anonymous messages of the weekend before last were claiming I was being cheated on with.

It is getting very hard to trust the Semi-Imaginary One.  So many reasons to doubt, and I get given basically nothing to build trust upon.
Combine this with the fact that for years I have been unable to explain our describe our relationship without it seeming either like he is a giant arsehole or that I am just some ridiculous pushover masochist....  Well, it is starting to look like it may be time I take a serious look at the possibility of making myself a single person again - as much as that really doesn't appeal.

It is very annoying that I have ended up both very in love and very in like with someone who doesn't really seem to have much regard for me.  I get group hangs and L-bombs, but otherwise it is pretty much all silence, absence and caginess.

My feeling on the situation are pretty clear that I have found the one I should grow old with, but they are also pretty clear that I need to top myself to avoid dealing with all the awkwardness and torment of it all.  So my feelings are just unhelpful and can't be trusted.


I don't recall what I had intended to rant about on Tuesday.  Had had a reasonably pleasant date, actually spent a bunch of time just hanging out and talking.  The result of which is I have much more benefit of the doubt to give today than is probably good for me.

On Wednesday my body crapped out on me, and I missed class for the first time this semester.  Why does my body feel the need to remind me how sick I am.  My life is shit enough without my body being a constant jerk.  Even with my dad offering my a ride in, I wasn't stable enough to go anywhere until hours later when Carla and Ian kidnapped me for a bit to sit in front of their fire, pat their cats and eat food they had bought for me.  That was about all I had in me.

Thursday was spent entirely in PJs.  I am not doing great.

And then was today and present shopping for the Semi-Imaginary One, and being angry for the unwanted creepy contact and that fact my supposed partner is failing to explain WTF is going on.

Now just sitting and waiting for a promised visit that won't happen.  Because his standing me up is like our thing.....


[post midnight edit]
I sat waiting for hours.  With the heater on so my flat wouldn't be cold when he arrived.  At almost 2300 he texted to say he wasn't coming.
Some days he seems a lot like a raging shitlord.
I am 73% certain he doesn't mean anything by his tendency to forget about me.  But sometimes it is hard.
Things that need explained have also not been explained.  I guess that will happen when he comes to get his presents, if he does.