Can I at least get a good ball to bounce around in here?

mcqueen cooler

I can’t… do anything. My neurons won’t let me. I know what I should be doing for my bad shoulder, for example, my physical therapy exercises, which I’ve been slacking on, but I don’t know what to do about a broken brain. Depression, PTSD, anxiety, I know these things, and I know when they come up, they pass in time. I’ve got a few tricks here and there to cope with them, and sometimes they even work =)

But I don’t know what to do about a broken brain. I don’t mean it in a mood like way. I mean that, for example, I can’t read anything for more than ten minutes, for the most part, and that’s generally if I know it well and I read it many times before my neurons were shot to pieces. If that’s not the case, I’m lucky if I can absorb a few pages. It takes me a full day to watch a movie. I just rediscovered subtitles, and now I can understand what they’re saying, mostly, even if I can’t connect the pieces of what’s happening sometimes. (As I said, it takes me all day to get through it. My queue on netflix is becoming more and more of a wreck. I hope the rest of my family doesn’t look on my page).

I went to see the new Marvel movie in theaters when it came out. I love superhero movies. I barely understood any of it. I wanted to cry.

I can’t hold a conversation with people either, really. I don’t sound very intelligent, in speaking. I repeat myself, I can’t hold a debate, and I can’t hold one thought through to the end. Most people I know have run out of patience and stopped listening. I’ve fallen back on my old habit, of middle school, of trying to be as invisible as possible.

The therapist says to take a nonjudgmental stance, but it’s hard to do when in a mental sense of it, I can’t even hold a stupid spoon.

I’ve been slacking on everything else, like the physical therapy and whatnot, because I want to hold that spoon. But as I said, I don’t know how to fix it.

And of course, I have to be very careful not to mention anything of this to family. Not only is appearing weak a bad idea in front of my aunt, who is the mother of my cousins, (they’re the only people who look at me with anything resembling unconditional love, though I have to censor myself because of that aunt. The only time I didn’t, in trying to explain to the younger one why I changed my name, the oldest said ‘can we not talk about it anymore?’) That aunt will cut me off (again) if I am slightly left of normal. Showing any of them, aunt, immediate family, in general anything other than their dancing monkey, their eyes. go. dark.


No Regrets?

I don’t really believe in that, because I think that ignores other humans on your life path.

But I want to believe in speaking from your heart.

I don’t know how to human. At least the people who know me know this. For a long time, and still, I am just puzzle pieces shoved in a tight drawer. I want to share them with other humans, but don’t know how because they’re all messed up and don’t make a whole and pretty picture, and what comes out is that jarring, a mess of puzzle pieces. I’ve tried to find my people, people who are patient with a jagged and hilly road. I think my people know though that beneath it are doubloons and seashells and feathers.

So I don’t know the rules, and my people are the ones who don’t mind.

I went back to my old college a few days ago, to see old friends. It was on the scooter, so you can imagine That. So the drive was a nightmare, the distance, the potholes, the fact I could only go 40 at best when it was supposed to be 50. And my focus problems. I still think I would do better on a motorcycle though, there’s more to pay attention to. I’ve done that before.

So I saw those friends, and one, who was the bestest friend of all, the magic was just gone. I’ll miss him.

I haven’t spoken to any of them for a long time, but they were there, most of them, and I was glad to see them, scooter be damned.