Well, no, I can.
Just at a limit of, say, 5 words. At a time. And when I read a new word the last one in the queue gets shoved off.
I have a lot of work that involves reading to do today.
Other things I can’t do;
Type. Okay, I can, but wow are the typos flowing thick and fast
Balance. It is for the grace of hand rails that I haven’t fallen off the stairs yet. I have learned that my clinging ability is unimpaired thanks to this. Seriously, though, legs. “Walking up the stairs” is not the time to decide that muscle tone is really an optional thing.
Also I am constantly starving and constantly eating. And constantly moving around despite hardly being able to do so.
Also I feel like those people on Doctor Who who got their faces sucked off by the Wire.’
I got myself some goldfish to make myself feel better but while I was typing this my cat started to eat them. Now I can’t eat them.
Yelling at the cat is apparently too strenuous an activity.
How am I typing.
Do I have to be a productive member of society? Can’t I just kind of take a day off from reality and get better before having obligations?
UPDATE: I’m going to start updating this post every time I decide to rant on this more.
So here’s a timeline of when right after my cat ate my goldfish:
- Cat walks away after spitting out the goldfish she was eating
- Throw goldfish at cat
- Contemplate throwing bowl at can
- Get up with bowl
- Walk down hallway
- Stop and cling to banister of staircase for a moment
- Walk to first step of staircase
- Stand there for a moment
- Sit down
- Decide to start a timeline
- Almost drop bowl of cat spit goldfish
- Consider dumping goldfish down the stairs
- Consider throwing bowl at dog
- Consider throwing bowl out window
- Consider throwing bowl in general
- Consider emptying out bowl by pouring it onto the staircase and sticking it to my face
- Forget what I was thinking
- Stare into space
- Wonder how I look sitting at the top of a staircase staring at nothing in particular holding a bowl of goldfish
- Stare more
- Attract attention of dog
- Consider punching dog and its stupid loud tail
- Stand up
- Be grateful for existence of hand rail as I walk down stairs
- Go to kitchen
- Pour out goldfish
- Lose interest in replenishing goldfish stores
- Start to walk upstairs
- Somehow end up laying down on stairs
- Look up at cat at top of stairs
- Look down
- Forget how I ended up curled up on the stairs
- Look back up at a concerned cat up in my face
- Freak out
- Freak cat out
- Hear dog whining to be let outside
- Hate dog
- Get up and walk back down the stairs
- Go to door with dog
- Consider squishing dog’s face between the door
- Go outside with dog
- Curl up on patio furniture
- Consider sleeping
- Wonder if other people have idle thoughts of violence towards annoying albeit fluffy animals
- Some number of things happen that I forgot
- Have to go downstairs again
- Half jump, half fall down stairs
- Do not stick the landing
- End up back up stairs again somehow
- Start writing list
- Constantly forget what I’m doing and lose attention
I guess I lied about the “can’t make lists” thing. I guess today I excel at listmaking.
I’m actually not sure why I listed all of that. I partly find it kind of funny I think?
I was going to write something else and I don’t remember what.
UPDATE #2: That list is incomplete, I have realized, because it left out all of the wanting to gouge my eyes out because they feel weird. Same with the desire to just gnaw on my arms for the same reason. “Weird” in this context being hurting except actually not. If someone can explain how I simultaneously hurt all over and not at all with my brain’s prescribed treatment of this being “HURT YOURSELF MORE,” please do explain that.
Also I’m starting to realize that I should not do stream of consciousness posts while crazy because I do not like seeing what they look like.
UPDATE #3 WITHIN SECONDS OF #2:
I thought of falling asleep on my dining room table. I simultaneously thought this was an awful idea and a great one. This is because if my mom found me like that I would not even have to explain that I wasn’t feeling well. I know the one time that I fell asleep in the bathroom because of new depresison medications I did not even have to convince her that the medication was not good for me. “Mom, I need to see a psychologist again.” “Yes this is clear.” would be nice.
I am very angry at the moment regarding my inability to have a psychologist. This is simply too much crazy for one brain to handle and it is not fair that there are people who could help me but also can’t because of terrible reasons. I am also noting the super hilarious coincidence that I get this bout of shittiness right after a school shooting that results in even more “CRAZY PEOPLE ARE EVIL” which is also massively discouraging me from even trying to try to seek a psychologist.
Seriously though why can I type all of this, I can’t do anything else.
I am now realizing that the last time I was feeling like this was almost precisely three years ago, because it went on during the winter break of my freshman year which is just about this time of year. I am really not liking this because I don’t want my brain to start seeking patterns in things lest it get prescriptive of my shittiness instead of just descriptive.