Darkland|org

One of the things that making writing difficult when I'm in a really bad place is coming up with page titles. Spiraling Again, Spiraling Again Again, Spiraling Again Again Again gets irritating pretty rapidly. There's also the fact that it's all rambling of someone who is alone and sees little worth in anything they do.

I finally bathed tonight. The last time was Wednesday, I think. It may have been Tuesday. It was whateve night it was that I went to bed and slept for almost seventeen hours. I'm finally back sleeping between the sheets again. I sleep on top of them when I haven't bathed so they stay cleaner longer. I would have bathed more, but since the Shack doesn't have plumbing, taking a bath is an ordeal of going to the house to get water, then pumping the water out and wiping down the stock tank I use as a tub when I'm done. There is no hop in, wash off, and hop out.

I'm tired of being alone. I'm tired of being scared. I'm tired on being in pain. I'm tired of the toll my disabilities take on my body and mental health.

I was diagnosed as hyperactive when I was four. Nowadays, they call it ADHD, and I don't want to do this any more. Oh yes, I've also since been diagnosed with several other things but the one I want to point out here is Borderline Personality Disorder. My teeth are fucked up from living with chronic pain for thirty-eight years and gritting my teeth when sometimes walking isn't just painful but excruciating (8-9 out of 10). And I have to walk often to survive. Because that's the only ways some things get done. I've been cultivating mindfulness about relaxing my jaw over the past several years, but the damage is done.

I keep thinking about the scene in Soylent Green where Edward G. Robinson's character goes to some state building and watches pretty things projected on to a wall and I don't want to do this anymore.

Bathe Bike Br E La Le Y