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.

My New Glass Box

Who needs intros? Shit went down and now I’m here.

We’re all about being weird, accepting our differences, let’s have a picnic on unicorns.

Fuck that shit. I want to be normal.

I know everyone is themselves, throughout, “the universe in their eyes” as George Carlin was saying, but I’m not talking about that part.

I’m talking about standing strong again, not living in a locked glass box looking out on the mess that’s my life that I’m itching to clean up.

What am I doing now? I’m making the glass box look nice at least.

Mindfulness helps. Being in the moment, not being chained to your thoughts. I do better when I concentrate outwards and am not inside myself, like concentrate on the environment, like the cat.

Yoga. Though hell, that does nothing to scratch that angry itch I’ve got. I want to get back into rugby, dammit.

The cat is therapy herself.

I go to church too. I agree with these people philosophically (UU), but mostly I’m there to sing.

What makes you burn, what makes you sing in the shower? what causes your heart to flow freely through your hands? I know what I want to do. I just need out of the glass box, to learn to get through new (and old) disabilities, to be able to do what I want to do (christ, I can only read for ten minutes a week right now)