The black acidic runny poop is a sure giveaway that I ate at a restaurant last night

Has been a week.

On Tuesday I had my final ever appointment with my psychodynamic psychotherapist.  I made it awkward by admitting I had some complex platonic feelings about him (fortunately I don't think he will ever read through this, and definitely not enough to find the period when I was less convinced they were platonic).

Also means my last time walking the three-mile-hill to my flat.

Thursday had a nice dinner out with David, Simon and Joe.  After which Simon made us watch Paddington as neither me nor David had seen it and had nixed his suggestion of Paddington 2 because of that.  And then an episode of This is Going to Hurt for a fleshier (if rake thin) version of Paddington's voice.

Also on Thursday, the Russian I had been chatting to for months finally confirmed my suspicion that he was a romance scammer by L-bombing and then claiming to need a borrow money for a week.  I had been hoping I was wrong and that he might have just been looking to fake interest in me in order to get partner entry into NZ.  But no, regular money scam.  Not sure why he didn't give up the first time I should signs of being a suspicious person - much time wasted chatting to me when I was not giving the wanted responses to early questions.

Friday I wrapped my presents for people.  Which aggravated my shoulder and led to much discomfort.  Also had for got to buy wrapping paper this year so several things were wrapped in pages ripped from the instructions to a Lego castle (a set I have four of so could destroy one instruction set without worry).

Saturday, family Christmas being done of Christmas eve.
My mother's house smells of dogs that aren't quite house-trained.
My mother is my mother.
Dinner was generic unfestive hotel restaurant.
I had roast of the day (which still somehow managed to disagree with me, actually was probably the chocolate brownie dessert that made my guts unhappy).

 

[edit, evening]
Today, did Christmas lunch with Midget's family.
Played Mario Kart with her daughter, discovering she had never played it two player before and being somewhat disappointed those parents had not worked the trick out.
Then home to sleep until a slightly late dinner of leftovers sandwiches.  And still being too tired to actually do anything.

Finished the Harry and Megan series just on midnight.

I stand by feeling they are probably more victim than villain in it all.

I don't especially like either of them, but I think they believe what they are saying.

Memory isn't a thing I do anymore

I think it was on the morning of my doctor's appointment at the start of the month, I finally fixed the RGB lights in my tower case.  They had been stuck an off-putting orange since my Windows went to 11 many months ago.  And I forgot to gloat about my achievement at the time.
All I had to do was follow the instructions on a site that was clearly trying to scam me into downloading spyware, while avoiding all their links.  This after many attempts over the months of following instructions on more respectable sites to no avail.

But I got it done.

Yay.

 

Otherwise, life has been lifing.

I haven't gone outside since my last entry, but I have given cake to those of my neighbours who I don't actively dislike (I should have extended that to the other tower of my complex but that would have required going outside) , and had Oli visit.

I am old and sore.

The shoulder continues to eat Deep Heat and Tiger Balm.

Muscle cramps have been fucking up my sleep.  Sometimes with the fun combination of the thigh cramp that requires a bent knee to ease the pain with a calf cramp the needs the knee kept straight.  So I am run down to the point where waking up in pain isn't disappointing because of the pain but disappointing because of the waking up at all.

I have watched some shows.  The Recruit was fun.  Irreverent I gave up on quickly as it was just a less charming rehash of Impastor.   TVNZ+ lied to me by classifying Dead Pixels as sci-fi/fantasy, it is a sitcom about people who like fantasy.
But significantly I napped.

I have failed to game, because my body hurts and even playing computer games feels far too much like effort.

Also watching the Harry and Megan Netflix thing.  I had been told it confirms their awfulness - though so far that is not the read I am getting from it.
Confirmation biases may be involved.   I may be more inclined to assume better of people but worse of institutions than the occasionally monarchist friend who is most anti-Harry&Megan.
I may also be more willing to assume people are basically racist dickbags.  I mean I am pretty sure that I have an inner racist dickbag.  I try to ignore, give it no power, but it is there and never fully escapable.

Meds life

My tolerance for smells is diminishing.  I find myself becoming fairly exhausted just by being around strong smells.
As I am noticing this is a thing I am remembering it used to be a thing.
I think I have found a thing other than pain management that my meds definitely help with......

Stupid weaning off.  But it needs done, I am on the neurology waiting list and would like to get something useful out of it.

In semi-unrelated, spent much of the day with my family.  Was utterly exhausting.

My sister dropped the giant cake my dad bought me from The Cheesecake Factory in the gutter - but the box held up and the cake inside seemed barely bothered.

After takeaways dinner my sister watched stuff on my plex while frustrating me by picking at the new Jigglypuff soft toy that Simon and Joe got me on their latest overseas jaunt.

Random complaining

I got stickiness from the lollies I am eating (from a bucket I own due to the mistake of making my weekly supermarket order at 3am) on my new mouse.

I bought he new mouse the day before Black Friday sales started after having dropped my old one and it losing also all sensitivity.

The new one runs from the same software but is much prettier (most of the mouse being RGB instead of just the logo on the back like my old Kone Pure Ultra.  So upgraded and hopefully I will not break this one, at least not any time soon.
Fortunately neither of the local online stores I use included ROCCAT in their Black Friday sales, so I didn't have to feel like an idiot about my timing of the purchase.

Going back through this I realise that my shoulder has been sore longer than I realised and seems to go back to when I tripped on the stairs and caught myself funny in early November.  I will have to try to remember that to tell my GP, it might help get physio if I can ACC claim it.

But I really don't want to make ACC claims when I am already being encouraged into a big one.

Also, even since it was too late at night for Spotlight to be open all my YouTube ads have suddenly started being ads for a sale the ends today.  Stupid Spotlight timed its ads unhelpfully.

Why am I so me? It is an awful thing to be.

Today (well, it is after midnight so really yesterday) I had a psychotherapy appointment where I caved on his nudging to go the ACC route for continued care.
I am still not comfortable with it and I didn't tell him I was agreeing so as to not disappoint him.  It is not a reasoning he would have agreed with.
I also realised very quickly in telling him about my date disaster of a few weeks ago that he would interpret it as something fairly rape-y.  So I played down how far it went and played down how unhappy to be there I was.  And was left feeling dirty not only for having gone through the events again but also for having sanitised them.  It avoided direct lies but was also uncomfortably untruthful.
Why does dishonesty bother me so much?
I am far more forgiving of being lied to than I am of when I distort the truth.  Why does it only seem awful when it is me doing it?

The day before I had had a surprisingly productive GP appointment.  I was a bit worried she would think I was being overcautious in how slowly I am weaning off my meds, but her advice was slower was better especially as it is hitting me fairly hard.  She even suggested stopping decreases of the dose if it gets worse.  She did also assume I was doing it for the weight lose, as health professionals keep doing at me.  Fat people can have health goals separate from weight.  But the referral for neurology, the actual reason I am putting myself through extra pain, is now in the works so that is a goal of sorts.

Oh, and I have damaged my supraspinatus.  Have to see if it comes right on its own, and then maybe get private physiotherapy.  I have been warned my chances are slim for public system care in anything resembling a timely fashion.  Rotator cuffs are a thing and mine now has problems.  Things I learned.

 

Otherwise, migraine naps have fucked up my sleep cycles.
I have clumsiness and lethargy.
I am fairly miserable and can't explain why.

So basically, go me.

Wagging family stuff, to still suffer too much family

On Friday night my dad got to town for weekend plans.  He arrived at my flat with my sister in tow while I was curled up playing Pokémon and feeling gross.  My sister without so much as a how do you do went into my spare room and started going through a new game I have that hadn't even been played yet.  Because while she constantly declares me unforgivable for violating made up rules in her head she absolutely refuses to acknowledge any kind of propriety.

Saturday I woke up far too sick to consider travelling to Tuatapere wedged in the back of my father's car for an overnighter with extended family for an uncle's birthday (I think it might have been his 60th).  Instead I mostly napped and wished my skull was a larger size as it was feeling far, far too small.

Sunday, middle of the day-ish, my father and sister turned up again and visited long enough to leave me extremely glad when they left.  My sister's habit of picking fights constantly and they playing the victim if anyone points out the behaviour (or gives any response to it at all, even agreeing with her just to shut her up sets her off) gets very exhausting.  The worrying part is that I genuinely can't tell if she knows she is doing it, or actually believes she is being 'picked on for no reason'.

Family is too much effort.  My family, anyway.

Last night I took my new boardgame to Carla and Ian's for its first play (also the first time I had stepped outside my building in 13 days).  It proved fun and I am less embarrassed by the kickstarter purchase.

Waking up from an afternoon nap so late it is basically a sleep, to the point that, as I throw together a quick dinner for my meds, I will be having my dinner meds and my "before bed, 2200" meds at the same time.

But counts as a victory for, though I feel dazed and a bit nauseated and have migraine pain like a heavy force trying to push my forehead back into my skull, I am in much less pain than I was when I realised my body was demanding that I nap.

Dating apps and my worst personal qualities

[CW: Oversharing no-one wants to read about my broken relationship with my own sexuality]

I have to stop being pressured into messing around with "mostly straight" guys who want a go with a guy.   Okay, is only the second time it has happened post-Shitlord, but it still feels far too much like a terrible failing that I end up dicking guys I really don't want to because they are persistent and pushy and act all sad about it.

That should not work.

It doesn't make me like them, it just makes me dislike them in a pitiful way.

And then out of awkwardness at how much they have put themselves out I have to fake being in to it.  And fake getting off, so they will leave, before just being left feeling dirty and gross and like I should maybe sandpaper my dick.

Because I am broken.

Then I was watching youtube and a channel I follow was talking about different types on the asexual spectrum and the interviewed asexual sounded too much like how I feel about things leaving me wondering if I was actually on that spectrum or if it is kind of bullshit.

My psychotherapist has been pretty clear that he thinks my general aversion to sex is trauma based, and will be reduced by better dealing with all the trauma that I am carrying around.

I am not sure how much I believe in trauma, it seems like an excuse for the fact I am a fail human.

Stop trying to steal the blame from me by giving reasonable explanations for why I am so shit.  Just hold it all against me already.

I need fewer unhealthy patterns.

My body is the enemy

The muscles of my shoulders and around my hips have been aching the last couple of days.  Like a did far too much at the gym sort of ache that is getting slowly worse, though for the best of my recollection I have done no exertion at all.

I also have strong points of pain in my face, some intermittent pins and needle in my lips and on the tip of my nose, and a bit of spasm/tremor of the extremities.

I am hoping this is because I am weaning off the pain/epilepsy meds I have been on for the last eight years.

I am not enjoyuing being me.

Also it seems to be making me ridiculously clumsy and I keep breaking stuff - like some unimportant parts of the stupidly expensive boardgame kickstarter I finally had arrive.  My US$290 of Call to Adventure versions by Brotherwise Games.

So beautiful and ought be fun to play.  Even if I broke the box and accidentally ripped one of the (mostly decorative) paper bits.  Because I am spaz.  Literally.  I am pretty sure muscle-spasming was a factor.

In lighter news, after 11 weeks and six days I finished the wholegrain study I was doing for the adorkable researcher from Otago's department of medicine.

So glad it is over.  Almost three months of poo-tastrophy.  I am hoping my microbiome isn't too upset about it and I can return to shitting more normally soon.

Expensive failure to pay attention

I was looking at some nerd stuff online.  The shop was UK based but had a pop up tell me it recognised that I was in NZ and put prices into dollars.

I didn't not read the pop-up properly.

It was in US dollars.  So they things I bought that were an excessive overspend for what they were turned out to be almost twice the level of mistake I had expected.   Almost $200 more than I had accepted I was stupidly spending.

It might not have made a difference.  I have been having a bad run with my very minor reduction in pain meds (slightly worried how further steps will play out) and it seems to be draining my mental resources enough that my impulse control is going awfully.  I have been buying a lot of dumb stuff I don't need and can't really afford online.

It will end badly.

"What is a woman" things are flooding my twitter

 What is a woman

A woman contains multitudes

She is power in the face of patriarchy

She is whatever the fuck she wants to be

She is not limited by simple definitions

She is not limited

Don't try to contain her with your words

And there ends bad post-midnight impulse poetry without any thinking or planning.

Okay, that just happened because twitter has decided my interests are NZ Politic, Canadian COVID debates (for reasons I do not understand) and both sides of the trans rights culture war.  I understand the NZ politics part, as I followed some slighty lefty local news sources.  But the trans rights seems to be based only on a couple of celebrities I followed.

In other news my dad came to town and brought me a full box of minifigures from a Christchurch toyworld, and it proved to have three of each mini (which is the best outcome, two of some and four of others is irksome).  And he hung out a bit with helped with my feeling stupidly lonely.  And mostly it was without my sister also being there, she only had a couple of hours of deeply infuriating me by being self-righteous and awful.

I am still failing at mental health.  I have still failed to message my GP about how fast/slow I should be progressing the lowering of my pain meds (or if I should keep it up at all).
I am still a fail human.  Which will surprise no-one.

I should stop sexually objectifying Kevin McCloud, MBE, as he wanders construction sites and go to bed.  It is more than an hour past my bed time.  If not for twitter distractions I was on track to head to bed about three hours ago... how does that happen.

My life is desperately lonely

but I am too broken to ask for company

to impose myself on my friends lives

I am not to have needs

I am to ease the needs of others

Playing a support class

not a hero

just forgettable in the background

Only hoping to be a sidekick

and not simply the help

so I, at least, might have a name

to be forgotten

Broken bender

Happy bits of gay movies - or, worse, happy gay movies - always make me cry.

I need to stick to the sad gay movies.  The homos should all suffer like me.

I watched Bros (2022).  Nothing about that homo romcom deserved an emotional response.  I am a fail human.

More than six months after last describing it with a doctor, and over three years after bringing up wanting to do it I have started to slightly decreasing my pain meds.

Hopefully it ends well.

Worst case scenario, I die.  Which currently doesn't feel that big a loss.

Unhelpfulness

It seems my chronic fatigue brain fog is getting worse.  Over the past couple of years it has been getting progressively more and more difficult to type sentences and end up with a result that remotely resembles what I think I am typing.
It is very frustrating and discouraging me from communication in written form.

On the lighter side, I do like that 'brain fog' has become a term that people vaguely understand now that Long COVID is making all the chronic fatigue things fashionable to have....

I have not written in this in so long.  I have simultaneously far too much and absolutely nothing to catch this up on.

I went to Simon and Joe's on the 31st of July and got back to mine properly on the 1st of September (though a couple of things I left behind are still there).  It was actually fairly nice and reminded me how annoyed I am that when my building was renovated we lost our giant windows that allowed the illusion of indoor-outdoor flow.  The illusion of outside-ness was the best thing about this place, and in the "upgrade" that was lost and I am cranky about it.

I am still fighting my way through Brandon Sanderson's novels - have now finished Oathbringer (but have skipped Mistborn 4-6 as the original three made a passable trilogy but didn't leave me caring about the world enough to want to read more).

Otherwise, don't have a lot to say for myself.
The food study finally started late August, almost three months late, and has not been great for my mood management.  To the point I have been eating more junk food than usual around the terrible couscous-heavy meals I am having to cook myself.

So basically I am being a sad antisocial boy who has the poops of too much couscous consumption, and there is little else happening.

 Writing this thing is hard.

Making me realise I am probably in a meh phase of depression, as I am failing to care enough about anything much to bother recording or sharing it.

Just finishing a month of house-sitting for Simon and Joe.  Their house has been so warm and their cat so cantankerous.

Making the effort to post on this as there was a death in the family this morning and the way the news has spread has made it pretty clear that my extended family doesn't have much time for me.  Dad's family's news shouldn't only get to me through my mother.

I realise I don't make a lot of effort for my family but this is making me realise I make more effort than I probably should.

Symmetry

The COVID vaccine booster that I got yesterday has given me a headache that is very symmetrical.  Being symmetrical means it isn't that much of a bother.  Except where it overlaps with my chronic pain migraine, which is pretty much never symmetrical.

Where they overlap - and they both feel quite distinctly different - it is unpleasant.

The booster has also left me with a slight temperature and some achy joints, as well as the obvious inflamed and tended upper arm from the needle site (my flesh sack does inflammation too well).

I suspect the muscle weakness is just my chronic health crap taking advantage of things.

It worked?

This morning I went from mostly single to fully single.

For the first time in a life of trying the approach, I encouraged someone to break up with me and believe it was entirely their own initiative and that it would clearly be catching me as an unpleasant surprise.

So that simplifies things.

Just realised that at 9 months it is my second longest relationship - and almost as broken as my longest was, if much nicer and more honest.

Professional help backfire

So both my tremors and my anxiety are playing up (along with a bunch of unpredictable crying over nothing).

Once I would have gone, body is being extra shit and and drains me too much to manage the mood stuff.

But my psychotherapist has got all up in my head about how all my health problems may be psychosomatic.  He is too keen on the whole the body remembering thing.

So I have spent the day in a guilt/self-recriminations spiral about how I am bringing my bad health on myself by being a mental case.

It led to me being unable to bring myself to go to a friend's birthday dinner, and thus missing hanging out with every person I have thought I was in love with and remained friends with - because that is a non-weird way to describe a friend group.

I am totally non-weird.

Spiralling a little.

Sometimes I think I order too many books, but my Bookdepository wishlist still has so much on it.  I think this mostly because I have had five books arrive over the last week, and I am impatient for more.

Otherwise what has been up with my life fails to be exciting.

I have been swearing at devices when messages come up a bit, probably because I am not doing very well and an old friend who is never very aware of nuance has been a bit demanding of my attention - and I am being a bit of a cunt about it.  Because I am awful.

I saw my GP in person on Monday.  I think it is only the third time I have seen her in person after all the phone consultations.  Was so nice to just be able to swipe my card at the office and not have to do a bank transfer.  Apart from my diabetes all my other blood test markers were healthy or improved, so yay for that.  I pointed out the upcoming grain study I am doing with the University's department of medicine to avoid her trying to up my diabetes meds, or get too pointed about making me make lifestyle changes (as I don't trust myself enough to think they would end well).  She did call out my weird new eczema one my hands as suggesting I am sleeping in too cold a room.

I may have to start spending my winter energy payments on heat and not Lego.

On the topic of Lego, the Lego globe that I spent too much money on just to get the gift-with-purchase Forestmen set - I will buy all the Forestmen as I am still filled with bitterness that in 1995-6ish Phil stole the figures from my Forestmen's River Fortress 6077 and then defaced them into worthlessness.  Even all these years late a bit of anger rises in me about it when I pass him on the street.

On Tuesday I went to a cafe to celebrate a special occasion with midget.  Nova was fairly empty at the time, but being maskless in public really makes me uncomfortable.  But I had a few nice hours of chat with Midget between there, her house and chatting in her car.

Then my now monthly psychotherapy.  I told my psychotherapist that things were not on track with my mood, but we mostly ended up talking about other things.  He is very keen on convincing me that my health problems are psychosomatic which is a bit unhelpful from my perspective.  Also very keen on suggesting career paths for when I magically solve my health problems.
I realise I am fixating on tiny moments in meetings that are fundamentally fine.  They just grate and then dominate my memory of the session. He is doing his job.

On Wednesday my ridiculous order from CritRole's US store turned up.  The blanket so I could make my couch mater better (I waste money, and will die a pauper).  The polo shirt just coz.  The ridiculous unicorn hoodie that I added on impulse because it was on sale and semi-intended to give it to my sister before remember that my sister is awful.  It is dumb, but not that I have it I quite like it.  I may even wear it in public to make sure no one ever takes me seriously.

Thursday I got my first New World delivery, finally as escape from the tyranny of Countdown's monopoly.

Friday was the first Matariki - I did nothing to acknowledge it, but start rereading Boyfriend Material, which I finished today.

Also today I let the guy who at the start of the year I was referring to as a sort-of-boyfriend visit - seeing him for the first time in about 2 months.  He is still keen, and quite nice to me.  But we are not suited, we are looking for very different things.

 I have been reading Lore Olympus.  It is fairly good and is distracting me from myself a little.

Otherwise achieving nothing today.

Or yesterday when I just watching some shows (bingeing all of Severance before my AppleTV+ trial ran out) and playing with the new Werewolves pack for Sims 4.

Recently life has been a lot of being a sad boy, feeling guilty about lying about how well I was doing in life during my WellSouth CLIC interview which probably just means I convinced them I don't need services I am probably actually eligible for, and moping.

Especially moping about my CritRole Fjord jumper that is falling apart faster than expected - I only got it this month and it is already leaking stuffing from the quilted effect.

Not winning

 I have left my house only once in the last fortnight, and that was to post mail.  But somehow I still have sniffles.

I have been hiding from COVID but also hiding from people.

My depression has been kicking my arse.

I know this because of the random crying.

I could pretend,

Lie to myself,

That it is just the lack of people.

A feedback loop -

The lack of people putting me off people,

The pandemic

Is an excuse.

How did this accidentally turn in to very bad poetry.  It started as entirely prose attempt at articulating my whinge.

I think this is why this blog died on its old host, I get depressed and I stop thinking it would be useful to have a record to look back on.

And with how shit my memory has been since I got sick, time just vanishes.  Life becoming smoke, dispersed.

I have caught myself verbalising that I am too stupid to live.

Insulting myself out loud is probably a sign that I am not doing okay.

 Still alive

Antibiotics solved most of the chest problems pretty quickly.

But have failed to care about the world, or do anything much, in the month since.

I don't leave the house much.

I am about 80% certain I just double dosed.

I really need to get pill boxes/trays with the days and times on them.

My coping mechanism of the last decade is failing to cope any more.

My memory is too unreliable.

Medical rage

After my GP's office made me go in to their COVID annex on Friday and get tested, even though I don't have COVID symptoms, so I would be able to see my GP about my pneumonia scar playing up in a suspicious way I was rescheduled back to the COVID annex at a different time and a different doctor based on no change to the circumstances of my visit.

I said no.

This was maybe a mistake.  All it achieved was being bounced between people on the phone and a lot of being talked down to as they had decided that I was a difficult patient who did not need listen ed to at all.

Has left me feeling pretty negative toward the medical centre I go to.  I mean, even more than is usual.

Has also left me with the tiny voice of "dying of pneumonia would at least save you have having to be talked down at like that again".  Because sensible reasons for goals.

Then had my first psychotherapy appointment in a couple of months.

Managed to mostly not just vent about the above, I saved it until near the end of the session.

Mostly we went through his anonymised write up on his year of me.  I fact checked a few things.  And let a few wrong facts slide as I decided they didn't matter (was mostly timings and orders of things), and it helps keep things anonymous on the unlikely chance someone assessing him tried to work out who it was.

Some of his assessments didn't sit entirely right with me, but I can't fact check people's opinions just the evidence they are basing them on.

He is far too keen on the notion that my chronic health problems could be massively reduced by a better mental attitude.  I am not sure I agree, being what a massive difference epilepsy meds make.

Unhelpfully, today was also one of the days when I found him weirdly attractive - though that may just be an artefact of not being around people much recently.

The Tightness

Last Wednesday night I woke in what was ungodly early Thursday with a tight chest and a sense of panic.  I wrote it off as merely being concern about going to the dentist during a pandemic.

But the tightness hasn't gone away.  It had grown and is now distinctly reminiscent of when I had pneumonia.

I am going to have to ring my doctors office.

I am not happy about this.

Otherwise dentist thing went fine.  I have indeed broken one old filling, otherwise I seem to just need a scale.

I humaned a bit

Yesterday, the the first time in four weeks, I went out and had dinner at a friends place.  Was so weird being out of the house.  And even weirder taking my mask off around people.

But an enjoyable time was had with Oli and Greer and their very excitable children (who had received presents from me since I had seen then last, including a book they particularly enjoy forcing their parents to read on repeat).

I probably got myself COVID, because children are made of germs.

But was hopefully good for my mental health to be a human and not a hermit crab for once.

Four days

On Tuesday I changed dosage on my thyroid meds, which means I will hopefully stop feeling like my body is trapped in slow mode.  Though the first couple of days sucked.

Today I am changing brands on my epilepsy meds - hopefully it acts like nothing changed at all.

I have wasted a couple of days of the in between time learning that I do not enjoy Distant Worlds 2.   It took me a while, but I got there.  Meaning it is less fun to me than Stellaris, which after playing for years I am still pretty undecided about.

I think I may be fucking up my meds

My memory has been especially tricksy recently.

And my reliability about marking when I take my meds on my calendar has got poor.

So today, when I had headache and chronic migraine pain both in the same spot (and yet being distinctly different beasts) it brought up the possibility I may have missed some pain meds.

I do not trust myself.

My brain is not my ally.

I washed and dressed up tidy for a phone appointment, because that is the man I am.

I recall planning a bunch of deep insightful points about my life and how the world is currently falling apart while insomnia was keeping me awake into the small hours.  But in the light of day I remember them not.  Planning entries for this thing never leads to those plans achieving anything.  My memory is conman, convincing me I can trust it even when experience has taught me I can't.

I did leave the house.  I went to the pharmacy.

Otherwise, have failed to do anything today.  Failed to order groceries online like I need to.  Failed to even play any computer games of any sort.  Just a bunch of lying on the floor and more listening to than watching some Netflix/TV.

Even ordered delivered dinner because I didn't have it in me to even heat and eat a heat and eat meal.

Yesterday I stood on my driveway

After 17 days of not leaving the house, I stood on my driveway yesterday.

Today I intend to leave my section entirely.  Maybe.

I have done well at following specialists instructions that I go walking everyday by not leaving my flat at all for almost three weeks.

Much of which I have spent in an insomnia spiral (insomnia induced heart palpitations can make sleep difficult).

In fairness, I am not doing well.

But I have built most of my backlog of Lego sets.  I think the only set I have left untouched is my Pirates of Barracuda Bay set that I have had since the first COVID lockdown.  I keep putting it off as I have nowhere to put it once it is built.

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Oh, and I listened to three Brandon Sanderson audiobooks.  Elantris, The Final Empire and The Well of Ascension.  His stories are fun but the writing is bad.  I don't understand why he is such a big deal.  Maybe I am a bad fantasy fan, but I just don't think he is actually that good.

oh yeh, there was news.

On the 10th I had another fun endoscope up my nose experience.  I got to watch as my vocal folds almost match movement.  The nerve damage is significantly recovered - which would explain why my voice stopped sounding so unfortunately teenaged.

Bad at looking after myself

 Last Friday my endocrinologist gave very strict instructions that I need to exercise daily.  I should be going to walks of at least half an hour every day.

But thanks to Omicron my stupid little city has SARS-CoV-2 loose in the community for the first time.  My COVID-free city through the whole pandemic now has it and it has almost immediately got everywhere.

So it is Friday and I have not left my flat all week, because people are vectors.

I hate being a sick person

Did the dishes, and somehow the was exhausting enough to leave me feeling like I was going to throw up from the exertion.  What the fuck, meat sack!  That makes no sense.

Also, have a new neighbour replacing the old lady that moved out.  Little old man, I think it was his teenage grandkids who were moving his stuff.   But once again seems like someone too old and frail to be on the top floor of a building with no lifts.

 I fucked up the part of my meds I hadn't ever fucked up before today.

Winning.

And then I had konjac noodles for lunch, having forgotten how much they don't agree with me.  Supposed health benefits probably don't achieve that much then it gives me the shits.

Otherwise just playing the new Pokemon game (having skipped Brilliant Diamond), as I finally finished Shin Megami Tensei V yesterday.  I have not have written in this properly in all the time I have had that game... too lazy to check.

Guy I am sort of seeing dropped by briefly after work, which was nice.  He doesn't visit on my terms much.

I R a idiot

I somehow convinced myself I was the first person in my city to have COVID.  Then realised that my symptoms were exactly the recurring wheeze and sore throat that had got my sent to the hospital and were never dealt with because the whole thyroid tumour thing turned up.

Probably not COVID.  Someone who travels can be Dunedin's first Delta or Omicron case.