Lately I have felt like writing. Obessively writing. I had hoped at first that this would bring on a hypergraphic mania that would lead me to complete my novel manuscripts in record time, but alas, Vikalpa and Remote are still sitting patiently on my desktop. I seem to have a knack for documenting my life and recalling recent dialogue, but I’m no good at fiction. Just dreadful. I love my characters, but I’m truthfully a horrid writer.
This blog is dangerous, really. When I’m a frustrated, emotional mess I feel the need to write and- oh, how convenient! WordPress is waiting! (This would be a reference to my post last night.)
When I write as emotionally as that and read it later, the thought flicks across my mind for a moment – not enough to induce anxiety, but enough to initiate mild apprehension – regarding the fact that my family tree is full of mentally ill folks. If someone isn’t schizophrenic or bipolar, than they’re nearly agoraphobic – locked in their own homes that become a prison of their own fear because of the unpredictability of the outside world, and the anxiety, bother! The anxiety is everywhere.
I’m not always fearful, really. The longer moments between the anxiety (some might argue that I shouldn’t use the terms, fear and anxiety, interchangeably because of notable differences, but I find them more alike than not.) it’s actually pleasant, thinking and discussing in my mind. Though the dissociating is a bit of a pain – who am I kidding? It’s like an unwanted house guest that has not only outlived its welcome, it never had a welcome to begin with – but thanks to the experiment I am happier.
My mother has agreed to let me see the GI specialist Doctor Madame at the ER suggested. I’m relieved about this, because while they were convinced that I have an ulcer, the doctor insisted that we talk to the specialist to find out if anything else is going on (they couldn’t be %100 certain what is wrong with me, the ulcer was a we’re-pretty-sure diagnosis). Batwoman, on the other hand, wants me to start back on my hypothyroidism supplements and start taking some sort of tree bark oil to treat the ulcer. I trust Batwoman, but I also want to get an opinion from someone with an M.D. in their title.
I didn’t mention much in my last post about driving for the first time – it was surprisingly uneventful (perhaps because I was expecting to crash within the first ten seconds…) I suppose it’s thanks to the fact that the Fit is a newer, compact car and everything was incredibly sensitive to the slightest tap. Also to the fact that my mother is rather easy-going, and let me roam around the lot as much as I wanted, commenting when I was veering where I shouldn’t or the fact that you aren’t supposed to be nearing 50 when going over a speed bump. It was a rare (or rather, the first) occasion where I was grateful that she was busy on her iPhone and not listening to me or paying attention to what I was doing. When I first got behind the wheel I felt so distant that I wasn’t certain for a moment that my mind could still communicate with my limbs, but thankfully after ten minutes or so I was so focused on the task at hand that I felt relatively normal. Mom had me park and she took a photograph from outside of me at the wheel. When she showed me the picture I was shocked, because it was the exact same expression I had on my face when she took a photograph of me in the ER in the Baylor Regional gown, hooked up to an IV and sitting up on the hospital bed. I looked…confident. Like I had everything under control. It seems to be my default expression when a camera is nearby.
I’m contemplating adding a weekly ‘Favorite Blogger Quotes’ post. I don’t do themed posts normally (or, rather, at all) but so many posts have utterly quotable phrases that I believe need recognition. Also, I’ve created my own blog award, The Classic Award, but I’m uncertain if I want to hand it out – after all, it isn’t notorious like the Versatile Blogger award (probably because I haven’t even let it loose on the web), so I suppose we shall see.
On a similar strand – I’m stuck as to what my next psychological experiment should be. The Rorschach Experiment in April was a grand success and heaven knows I still need to write that giant paper on it (I don’t feel comfortable with the profiles I’ve completed yet), but by January I want to have another one set into motion. Though hopefully I’ll find an assistant this time. While the Rorschach interviews were an exciting experience since I didn’t answer to anyone (or anyone to me), I still had a severe want for a Watson to help me out. If for no other reason than the hours between interviews were rather dull and I had no one to bounce ideas off of. The Center is filled to the brim with creative human beings who would be excellent for such a position, but availability has always been the largest issue. I suppose we’ll see (and indeed you will, obviously not an inch of progress will go unwritten, this is me we’re talking about…)