26.04.15 :: 02.05.15

[Note for consistency: Previous week coincided with increase in meds, thus nothing more was accomplished than curling up in bed with crippling headaches and marathon watching mindless TV.]

1.
I keep having to do these things where I rate how I feel on a scale of 1-10.

First: I hate 1-10 scales. It's subjective (who really knows what 10 stands for?). As a general rule, whenever given that sort of scale (for anything) I stay away from 1 or 10 and stick to the middle numbers because they feel safer. Plus, if you say something is the best (or worst) what do you do when you encounter something better?

The most recent one is keeping a week-long schedule and rating each thing on how much pleasure it brought and sense of accomplishment using the 1-10 scale. By the second day, I'd created my own system of smiley faces to make me feel more comfortable about it, but by day 3, I'd given up entirely. Do I get a sense of accomplishment from eating breakfast? How much pleasure is there in brushing my teeth? The answer to both is none. In fact, the only activities I felt anything about were my driving lessons, hanging out with my flatmate and cleaning (all got this face :D).

Everything else is just flat. I don't feel good or bad about my activities; they just are. On average, I don't feel much of anything, except a sense of being empty. Or floating. Drifting. Just kind of taking it all in. And this is what I struggle with the most with this therapy thing. I can go a long time without really feeling anything. Before the meds, it'd get interrupted by the soul-sucking conviction that everything is terminally fucked and nothing will ever make it better (the more frequent path) or bouncing off the walls wanting to hug everyone and take on the world (less frequent, doesn't last as long). In between in just coasting.

Since the meds, I don't get the soul-sucking moments anywhere near as much. It's happened a couple times. It's hard to tell if the highs have been affected because they're so rare anyway, but I've had a couple of those, too. Mostly, though, I'm just living in blankness.

2.
What do you think will happen if you don't do x?

This is the recurring question. I don't have an answer because I don't think anything is going to happen. It's a physical sensation, like little blocks being stacked on me so I can't move - restricted - it's probably similar to a feeling of claustrophobia. I can ignore it for a little while. It's uncomfortable, but I can deal. I'm used to being uncomfortable. But after awhile (like a day, depending on what the environment is sometimes a little longer), but it builds up to a certain point where I feel the pressure digging into my skin. I keep picturing it as Lego blocks. And I can't take it anymore. So then I go on 5 hour cleaning sprees or rearranging furniture until it goes away. The feeling when there are no blocks is euphoric. Like the first time you get out of a car after an eight hour drive. Light. Like there's nothing caging me in. Energy can move freely around again. Because that's a lot of what it is. I put things in certain places because when they're in those places, the energy moves freely. When it isn't in the right place, energy is blocked and everything gets darker, no matter how much light is actually present.

3.
Today was hard. The question of a hypothetical door that may or may not be locked had me twitchy and squirming and really wanting to lock Adam's door just to make the feeling for away. I also had my first cigarette in a week. There's something about the motion of it that calms me down more than anything else.

Diazepam also does absolutely nothing for me anymore. So that's a fantastic bit of news. I'm not sure if I want to mention that to my doctor or just keep self-medicating. At the moment he's trying to limit the number of pills I take because my liver functions have been off for no explainable reason. It's a good thing I'm not a heavy drinker.

I think I can work with Adam, though. I think he's intent on torturing me, but I can work with him.

4.
I really have a passionate dislike of songbirds.

5.
I love the fact that I can have an anxiety attack - and not even a particularly bad one - and over 12 hours later I still can't sleep.

Seriously, my body hates me.

6.
So I looked through the list of people I went to high school with. Hardly recognized most of them. It's weird. Knowing I don't exist for those people anymore. I bailed first chance I got and didn't look back. Firmly and totally shut the door on that part of my life. It's sad, too. Some of those people I really liked but y'know. 14 years later we're basically just strangers. (Shit. I graduated high school 14 years ago. What the hell?)

7.
An inadvertent revelation during a conference panel. Beethoven was the topic of conversation - different regimes that have used it for their own particular (and conflicting) ideologies. Everyone kept referencing the humanness of Beethoven, the passion, the surge of sound and energy, and that's what appeals to people.

I hate Beethoven. Cannot stand it. Bach, however, I adore. To me, it's emotive, sweeping, captivating.

For the group, Bach was the contrast. Universally. They pinpointed him as precise, mathematical, reserved in comparison.

I just found it interesting listening to their descriptions of these two composers. I wouldn't have used any of the same adjectives. It felt strange sitting among thirty or so other people who all praised the emotion and humanity of a composer who, in my opinion, is just erratic and nothing more. It was just an instance of pretty much how I feel all the time: everyone in the room sees something I don't get.

8.
Today I have learned that I miss attending lectures. I am definitely not being stimulated enough intellectually under the status quo. I need to do something about that.

9.
The world frustrates me. Check your facts, people, and say only true things. You damage people when you don't.

10.
I don't know how many times I say, I'm not saving anyone anymore. I'm not going to do it. Then you raise your hand and I do backflips to give you whatever you might need.

You infuriate me like no one else in the world ever.

11.
You know who would be really helpful with my research?

My dad.

I really wish I could talk to him about it. 

The Power in Meaning

I have this thing about words. I'm very specific about them, and what they mean, and very picky about any sort of ambiguity in their usage. Now, I know, we all have slightly different interpretations of what individual words mean, or what they mean to us in our own perceptions.

For example, I use the word "silly" as a term of endearment, as in 'yeah, that was kinda dumb, but I love you so it's okay'. Or if I say I'm feeling anxious that means I'm about two seconds away from finding the nearest corner to camp out in for a couple hours until the twitchiness passes, whereas someone else might say they're feeling anxious to indicate a small amount of nervousness. ("Twitchiness" is another word that I've adopted to mean "panic attack" because I don't like saying 'I'm having a panic attack'.)

Everyone has those things, and as you get to know them, you learn their individual language and adapt to it. Adopt it, in some cases.

Maybe it's because of this that very often we forget the actual meaning behind those words, and the power that meaning has. So we say things indiscriminately without thinking about the wider ramifications that meaning is going to carry with it to the person receiving them. Think about how many disagreements you've been in with someone where it eventually comes out 'I didn't mean it like that.' I'm sure you've said it yourself. I know I have.

But to come back to me (because, well, it's my blog so why not), my thing about words focuses in on those things. I do account for a slight amount of variation in meaning from person to person, but there are also universal meanings that a majority of people have come to accept - X means Y. And when it comes to the more fuzzily defined words - any emotion springs to mind - those universally accepted definitions are vital for accurately (or as accurately as possible) conveying a singular, individual experience to someone else without really having a common ground to stand on.

An example from a conversation a very long time ago:

He said he was very angry.

Recounting the same incident a day or so later:

He said he was very upset.

Hearing those two phrases, I'll stop you and say, well, which is it? Yes, "angry" is a form of "upset", but "upset" isn't always "angry". So it changes the interpretation. And I will completely halt the conversation with an interrogation about what is actually meant by a particular word until it's explained to my satisfaction. I like specifics. They prevent misunderstandings.

So today I'm thinking about words, and what they mean universally, and what they mean individually. It's fine to have your own set of definitions for words. It's also fine to appropriate words or clusters of words to attempt to describe something that doesn't have its own word. At the same time, though, you need to be aware of the universal definition when you're interacting with other people, especially when your definition isn't the same. You can't just spout off something and expect someone to immediately grab the usage that is particular to you. No. More than likely they will automatically fall into what the collective has decided that word or phrase means. So there's a responsibility there, in the language you use and the words you choose. Every single thing you say leaves an impact, and you need to be aware of what that impact will be. It's not enough to hide behind I didn't mean it that way or That's not the definition I use if it's the definition the majority uses. If you want to be understood, sometimes you have to go with convention a little bit. You have to think about the person you're speaking to and how they're going to interpret what you're saying, how that interpretation is going to affect them, and if they're actually going to understand what you're trying to convey. You may prefer your definition over all others, but if you can't get across what you mean, then what purpose does it serve?

I could use a better example, and you've probably gotten the sense I'm talking around something very specific, but I'm not that much of an attention junkie to slice myself open just now, and not quite so vindictive as to call up the flaming torches. I much prefer setting my own fires, anyway.

Along the same lines comes the topic of not saying things for the seemingly noble reason of protecting someone else's feelings. I will tell you right now: that's bullshit. The only reason for not saying something is because you're afraid to, and that has nothing to do with the other person. The more you don't say something, the more you lie, and lying doesn't protect anyone.

The point is: before you open your mouth, think about what you want to say. Think about the best words to say it. And if you know it isn't taken the right way, try again. At the very least, say that.