I have no idea what I'm doing

Author: lokiofsassgaard (Page 1 of 2)

woke up with a migraine and that was the best the day got

It’s been a long time since I posted. I’m bad at it, but today some Grade A bullshit is going on, which is going to get in the way of a lot of stuff.

Back in March, I had some routine bloodwork done. Some of the numbers came back a tad elevated, but like, within a range that was not concerning. Doctor actually said it’s what he expects to see from someone with a cold, so that’s fine. Whatever. Everything else was fine, so it didn’t warrant really looking into further.

Last week, I had an appointment with another doctor, concerning what seemed like a cyst. Nothing serious, but worth looking at, and potentially having removed.

Welp, doctor thought there was something odd about it, and ordered a more comprehensive blood panel. And those numbers that were a bit funny, but not concerning in March came back much higher today. Certain words have not yet been utttered, but I have an ultrasound and a biopsy scheduled soon. At that point, we’ll know what we’re actually dealing with, but I’m not optimistic.

Right before the bloodwork got in, I got a call from the surgery scheduler person at the clinic, and I’m on the books for next month. They apparently do it before they know, that way if the results do come back as what they expect, they can get you in faster. But there is a certain irony in that I was prepared to fight the insurance company over this, and now it’s looking like a matter of medical necessity.

So, that’s what I’ve been dealing with the last couple of weeks. I’ve been getting things in order today, knowing I’m not going to have the brain capacity to deal with them when they come up later this month and next. Ugh

Buying bargain bin records

One thing my husband and I do is we have allowance accounts.  After the bills are paid, depending on how much is left after, we each get a little bonus.  On top of that, every pay day, we each get an automatic payment of $25, or $50 a month.  This is part of our budget, and it’s ours to spend or save however we want.

Mine mostly goes toward comics, but there are weeks when nothing releases that I want.  And since I’ve been getting back into vinyl again, that’s where the rest of my allowance has been going.

So I’ve made myself a rule.  I can only buy records if I don’t buy comics that week.

Records are fucking expensive.  New ones can knock you back $40 or more, depending on the release.  Or, you can get them used for pretty cheap.  We do actually have a record store in town, but it’s a bit of a hike, and I’m still not super comfortable going out amongst the people.  Though I might stop by next week, depending on how I feel after my dentist appointment.

What I normally do is go on Discogs and shop there.  And then I get the added monkey brain excitement of getting to wait for things to come in the mail.  What I do is I find music that I like, and I add every single vinyl release to my want list.  There’s like, 4000 items on it right now, but a lot of those are duplicates because of the way the site works.  But this way, when I go to the marketplace, and have it show everything on my want list, I see every vinyl release for a given title.

Then I get real methodical.  I sort that shit by lowest price, and scroll until I find something in good quality.  I don’t care what it is.  The first item on my want list that will play without skipping, and has a sleeve that isn’t falling apart.  I add that to my cart, and then go to the seller’s page.

Then I’m allowed to get up to four more records from their store, as long as they’re $5 or under.  I think the most I’ve spent so far is about $40 in one go.  Usually, it’s closer to 20, and I still have money left over for comics next week.  A lot of times, I don’t even find five I want.  And limiting myself to one seller at a time, I make sure I’m not paying a stupid amount on shipping, and I only have one person to deal with at a time.

Right now, I’m waiting on an order currently lost in New Jersey, with Brian Setzer and Madonna.  This week, I got Blue Öyster Cult and the Rolling Stones. I’m really hoping to find some Creedence and ELO in good condition, but for some reason those ones seem to always be really banged up.

Between this, and a subscription service where I get three random albums each month, I’ll have a pretty good collection going in no time.

Just once, I would like to get to the dentist and back without calamity

The irony was I tried to leave two hours early, and was still nearly late. I wanted to go to Dollar Tree to pick up some Halloween stuff, and maybe get a few snacks for the week. So I ordered a Lyft, and went outside to wait for it. I watched this dude drive all the way into town from BFE, only to cancel the ride a few blocks from picking me up. Like, did he not notice when he accepted the ride that I was only going a mile and a half? Bro. Come on.

So I tried to get another ride, but apparently either nobody was signed on, or they weren’t in the area, because Lyft could not find me another ride. I tried like, three or four times, even. Then I called the cab company, and it was like, a 45 minute wait, and fuck all of that. At this point, a 45 minute wait would actually make me late for my appointment.

So I ran upstairs to fish a dollar out of the ceramic bread in the kitchen, and was hoping to bust ass down to the transit centre, but by the time I got there I’d missed the bus.

So I walked my fat, disabled ass a mile and a half in like, a half hour to get to my appointment. In the rain. Somehow, I was five minutes early, and my god. What a nightmare that was.

But I got in, and then risked my life using the drinking fountain, because omg.

And apparently the scheduled all their denture stuff for the week today, because I waited about a half hour to even be seen. They finally get me back to the room, but the scan machine thing was being used, so I waited there for another 20 minutes or so. And when it finally arrived, the lady asked if I’d brought my own sunglasses this time. Yep, sure did. I don’t want to wear the ones someone else has worn.

They weren’t in my pocket. These are prescription sunglasses, and they’re not where I expected them to be. Fine. Whatever. I didn’t really need them anyway, because the light was not in my eyes, but being shoved into my mouth while they scanned my head from the inside out basically. It was a whole ordeal, and took another half hour or something. But it was much perferable to gagging on goop, so whatever. I lived.

And then, because the dentist sits right on the border of two towns, neither Lyft nor Uber can pick me up. I thought real hard about going to the Dollar Tree anyway, but at this point I was tired and sore and just wanted to go to bed, so I walked over to Starbucks. I thought, I’ll call a Lyft, get a coffee, and come home.

Starbucks was closed. They close at 2pm now. That’s a new development. So now I was just waiting outside in the rain like a nerd. But the guy showed up, and he was the same guy as last time, which was funny. But I’m home now, and because this day has been hellish enough, I found my sunglasses on the floor, right next to the front door, which means I probably dropped them in my mad dash to get out the door. So, good. That’s something I don’t have to replace. And then I got a text from Safeway, and it looks like everything but the cheese I wanted will be delivered, so that’s cool.

And now I’m gonna go hang some posters up in my bedroom. Because I’m a grown-ass adult, and I want to put posters in my bedroom.

I am so exhausted

Got the last of my dental work done today, before we’re gonna move on to the next step in getting my new teeth.

Had one hell of an experience today though. I got up several hours than I wanted to, because our internet wigged out, and the youtube video we had playing for white noise kept skipping. At that point, I figured I’d call the cab company early and schedule my ride, and all was well.

About an hour before my cab was supposed to arrive, the dentist called me and said there had been a cancellation and I could come in early. I didn’t want to deal with the hassle of trying to get the cab earlier than schedule, so I declined.

Of course, when the cab was supposed to be here, it never showed up. Ten minutes later, they called me and said they didn’t have a ride available for me. By that point, I was very close to late, but luckily I was able to get Lyft to find me a ride, which has never worked before in this area. I called the dentist and was able to get them to hold my appointment for me, and got there a bit late, but not so late that they would have cancelled me.

At that point, I was already pretty wigged out, because not being in control of my situation like this always sends me into a spin.

But I got in there, and they got to work, but I was so keyed up that about halfway through my autism went and kicked into high gear and my brain decided that anything touching me hurt. So having two people with their hands all over my face for the nex 20 minutes was fucking agony. But luckily apparently my teeth are “really easy to work on” so he was able to get everything done with very little drilling or fuss. So I got out of there quicker than I’d expected to, but not as quickly as I’d have wanted all things considered, and got the rest of my shit scheduled. I go in next week to get scanned for my denture fitting, which is a lot quicker than I was expecting, so I’m hoping my finances can keep up with the timing.

Getting home was a whole other ordeal, because I live in some podunk little town that secretly two towns squished together. Lyft is on the side of town I live on, and Uber is on the other. And my dentist apparently sits right on the border, so I could not get a ride back from either one, because they both recognised my location as being in the other town. So I had to walk a block to Starbucks before Lyft could see I was in the right area.

But I’m home. My face hurts, I’ve got soup cooking in the crock pot, and I’m watching documentaries and knitting scarves for the old people at the nursing home my husband works at. I was gonna try to get some writing done tonight, but my brain is just fluff. It ain’t happening.

I have nothing left

It’s been a minute since I updated.

But last night, my husband and I were doing this thing we do, where we send each other dumb tiktok videos.  And because TikTok’s algorithm is fucking psychic, it kept giving me videos about anxiety and the crushing weight of overwhelming emotional stress.  I shared one of these with him, and said, “me all week” or words to that effect.

It prompted a long conversation about how my hobby has become frustratingly invalidating lately, between all the drama, and watching Twitter mutuals get bullied, and myself getting kind of bullied out of an event.  All this coupled with a fic that doesn’t get a lot of attention, even though I knew it wouldn’t because it’s a sequel to a fic that utterly bombed, and basically I’ve been feeling like I’ve been somewhere between utterly unseen, and actively being ignored.

And I’m in between therapists at the moment, which definitely is not helping.  I’m trying to find someone who will take my weird medical loan thing that I also use for my teeth, because that’s a much easier way for me to pay.

But I’ve just not been in a very good place for a while, and my creativity is about 10 feet underground, and I just don’t want to do anything.  And then I feel like dogshit for not doing anything, which has at least led to finally getting the dishwasher fixed and that pile of dishes that permanently lived by the sink taken care of, so that’s nice I guess.  But goddamn I just want to be able to sit down and bust out 8,000 words a night again.  What do I have to do to get that back?

I feel vaguely ill

In about three hours, I will be getting on a train to go visit my uncle.  The last time I saw him was in June, when we went to the zoo together, and before that, we hadn’t seen each other for about two years.  Part of that was the pandemic, and part of it was my family being fucking insane.  (Incidentally, we realised that the only other time my uncle had been to the zoo was when he took me about 20 years ago).

I have not travelled alone in probably about three years.  I’m wigging out just a little bit.  I am an anxious, agoraphobic mess with decades of trauma that will likely never heal, and I will be getting on a train and leaving town for about five days.  I’m excited to see my uncle, but I’m having a hard time making that outweigh my desire to crawl into a hole and never come out.

On top of this, we’ve been kind of suspecting for a while that my husband may have developed his own flavour of PTSD from working in health care during a global pandemic, and that suspicion evolved to “let’s maybe look into finding you a therapist” this morning.  Because I have not travelled alone in about three years, he has not been home alone in about three years.  So he’s over here utterly convinced that I won’t be coming home.  We’re both in kind of this area where we don’t want to be alone, but rather be left alone, and he knows that being alone for a while is a big nope for me.  And now I think he intimately understands exactly why and he doesn’t like it.  I’m torn between empathy, and “lol join the club.”

It also doesn’t help that I’ve had to upend my sleep schedule to do this, and have been waking up roughly the same time I would normally be going to bed.  Luckily, I am a fat bitch who is very highly food-motivated, and he has already told me he plans on making poteball at some point this week, and any time I don’t have to make it in order to eat it is a giant win.  Though during that discussion, I learned that one of the petty ghouls in my family has apparently stolen my grandmother’s recipe box.  It’s either the one who famously talks shit about my grandmother’s cooking, or the one who famously doesn’t cook, so the only reason for stealing it would be to make sure nobody else could get them.  But joke’s on them, because I’d already copied down most of them, and will be taking those copies to my uncle so he can get them.

Ironically, the only recipes I did not copy down were the Norwegian ones because I already knew them, so if he wants those, he’ll probably find they’re a bit different than how Grandma made them, because they’ve all kind of evolved over the years.

Also, in a single text, he demonstrated more situational awareness than my mother has ever done in her entire life.  He remembered that I have dietary restrictions, but could not remember what they were.  And it’s kind of funny, because the things I am allergic to, he just straight up doesn’t like so there we go.  That was easy.

On the topic of food, my husband and I have been slowly sliding toward vegetarian over the last few years, and this week made another conscious change toward that direction.  Since we’ve been cooking separate meals lately, we’ve been going through almost a pound of butter a week, which is like, obscenely expensive.  I realised that for the same price, we can get a huge tub of Country Crock, which is the only not-butter I’ve ever thought tastes even remotely like butter.  We got it as an experiment, and it works really well for our purposes.  I probably wouldn’t want it on toast, but I bet I’d like it on lefse, because I’m pretty sure my grandmother never bought real butter in her life.  My only gripe with it is that it smokes up and burns real easily.  But it’s a small price to pay when it will likely last us almost a month instead of about a week.

We’ve also been looking into joining the Satanic Temple, since queer rights are almost certainly next on the chopping block.  We both have our reservations about it though, both in terms of joining an organised religion, and being practising pagans.  He grew up Catholic, and I grew up Lutheran, so we both have a lot of baggage with organised religions.  Equally, the Satanic Temple literally only works because they’re not memeing around.  They not only have rituals, but services, chapters, and holidays.  While a lot of their tenets do overlap with ours already, we are not atheist.  We have our own rites and rituals, and our own holidays and prayers.  Joining the Satanic Temple is one of those things that seems like a good idea on paper, and right now would definitely be beneficial for a lot of people, but it runs the risk I think of stepping into the same territory as a Catholic getting a religious exemption for vaccines.  Claiming to be part of something you don’t actually believe in just for the benefits feels icky.  Either way, I’ll still kick them my customary winter donation when I do my Jingle Jam and APOPO donations this year, but I don’t think I’m actually comfortable with becoming a card-carrying member.

I think instead, once I get all my credit card debt paid down, I’m going to get another tattoo.  I want Jörmungandr wrapped around my wrist like a little snakey boi.  That, or I might consult on getting the cover-up I want to do on the shoulder piece that got fucked up years ago by an artist who went so deep I bruised.  We’ll see.

It just keeps going

I am so exhausted and run down with everything. I don’t understand how anyone who’s a parent isn’t terrified for their children right now. And now I see Florida is trying to pull the same shit as Texas. Meanwhile up here, the FBI are warning about a potential threat to Bonneville. I’m so done.

The Satanic Temple has already filed their lawsuit though. So that’s cool. I wish pagans would get on their level, but it’s easier to count all the grains of sand on a beach than it is to organise pagans at all. And let’s be real, the last time people upholding Norse ideology organised, it did not go well.

We almost have the house put together how we want it. I talked to the husband about Equinox plans, and he thinks foregoing anything fancy in favour of making a bit of emergency soup is the best way to go. So next paycheque I’m gonna buy stuff for that so we can stock up again.

I also finally got my Nintendo hooked back up, and spent a half hour irritating my husband by swearing at Super Mario 3 while “testing” that I’d got it hooked up right.

I am so tired

I’m going to see my uncle this weekend, which means not being asleep during the day, so I’ve been trying to get used to being awake during the day. It’s hell. I hate it. I’m not good at it.

I’ve asked my husband to bring me some Red Bull, because it’s far more effective than coffee. Coffee is good for preventing headaches. Red Bull is good for making me unable to close my eyes, which is what I need most I think.

If I can stay up until midnight ish for the rest of the week, and then wake up around 8-9am, that’ll give me plenty of time to get out the door and get to my train. Which then means I have to figure out how to get there, because I no longer trust the local cab company, and we don’t have Uber or Lyft, and he busses suck.

We’re part of Portland Metro, but this area just fucking refuses to modernise. Literally the only reason they let Doordash in is because of the pandemic.

The problem with this is that it’s compounding with other forces to just make me unable to think or focus on anything at all. I’m behind on a lot of stuff because I just can’t pay attention. My brain won’t work.

Also I’ve been really fucking itchy lately. I don’t know why. If it’s a hange in humidity, or laundry detergent, or what.

And now, even though I slept all night, it’s getting to the time of day that I’m used to going to bed, so my body just wants to go back to sleep. But my husband will be home in an hour with my obscene amounts of caffeine, so hopefully that’ll make it easier.

In other news, I signed up for a record subscription thing. A bit like Columbia House way back in the day, but instead of picking the records I want, I get a blind box each month. It’s getting to the point where I’m really getting antsy because my first delivery should be getting here soon, and I half expect it to arrive when I’m gone.

I’d really like to find a proper Columbia House type service, because I used the hell out of that back in the day, when it was CDs. If anyone knows one for vinyl that works on the same principle, where you can just pick from a catalogue, let me know.

Dream Journal

I had an absolutely astonishing nightmare last night.  I just woke up from it about ten minutes ago, and want to get it all down because, quite frankly, holy fuck.

This one actually gets a bit graphic, so nope out now if you need to.

It started out I was back in high school, even though I graduated almost 20 years ago.  It was my high school, but it also wasn’t.  There was something very much off about it, which is also pretty common in these ones.  I was able to go to my first class, and then I looked down at my schedule for the next one and found I couldn’t read it.  Not for the usual dream shenanigans reasons.  Because some genius had printed it on green paper with a giant black palm tree in the middle, and I couldn’t read anything that was printed over the tree.

So I go to the office to have it reprinted, so I know where I’m supposed to be.  And the lady reprints it, and then puts it in an envelope.  Because she can’t hand it to me.  She has to mail it to me.  And in my dream, I’m thinking fuck, I don’t live anywhere near where I did in high school.  But okay, I can like, go there and fetch my mail from the people who live there now.  It’s like, right across from the school, so that’s easy.

So I went to go fetch my mail, except I couldn’t find the house.  Like, it wound up being way far away from the school.  At one point, I was on a school bus, sitting next to my brother, and then someone came up and kicked me out, so I went to sit up front.  And we were driving through like, this really tight, winding road, where crews were building mountains out of wood on either side of the road.  And we’re zooming through this road, and I was talking to the bus driver about trying to figure out how to move closer to the school.  My in-laws live right around the corner from the school as well, so maybe I could go stay with them, except I don’t get along with my FIL very well.

And then we can’t find the main road anymore.  The one that you turn off of to get to both the school, and my old house/my inlaws’ house.  We found where it ends, which frustrated me like crazy because I knew, in my dream, that the road does not end IRL.  That it keeps going and takes you to the next city.  But I was like, okay.  Well.  I found the “end.”  So if I keep walking, I’ll eventually get where I need to go.  Except it was all weird, and then I was back on the bus going the wrong direction again.

I woke up very briefly at this point, going “wtf was that??” and then checked the time and didn’t want to be awake that early, so I went back to sleep.  Then I was back on the bus, and she let me off at my aunt’s house, who I don’t speak to IRL.  She was there, my cousins were there, and one of my brothers.  Might have been the same brother that was on the bus.  The crowded nature of the house is important.  But this is where it went from weird to horrifying.

I got up and went to the bathroom to shave, and at one point dropped my razor.  I looked down and the blade had nicked the top of my wrist.  I use a straight razor IRL, and was using it in my dream, and was thinking wow, it’s a good thing it only nicked me.  That could have been bad.  But then it started to hurt.  Really hurt.  I looked down again, and the cut was bigger.  It wasn’t bleeding, but it was growing.  And then the skin around my wrist tore wide open, all the way around, and was only holding on where I’ve got my tattoo.  I guess even in my subconscious, my brain doesn’t want to fuck with my ink lmao.  But it was all jagged and rough, and like, way too loose.  There was also nothing at all between my skin and my bones, and I could look in there and see my skeleton moving around.

It still was not bleeding, but it was very obviously wrong.  I told my aunt that I needed a towel and for someone to call 911, and she said I’m fine, no I don’t, etc.  I managed to grab a bath towel from the laundry and kept trying to wrap it around my wrist, but nothing I did would stay.  I had my phone, but I didn’t know the address where I was, so I couldn’t call 911 myself.  I kept begging people to do it for me, all the while trying to keep pressure on whatever the hell was going on, and was just getting laughed at.  Finally one of my cousins says okay, he’ll call 911.  And then he starts dialling 1-800 numbers and acting like it’s so weird that none of them are 911.  This goes on for a while, until he says he doesn’t actually know the number for 911.  My other cousin decides to help out, and starts sending texts again, while my brother keeps telling me to stop being a baby.

One cousin finally told me the road we were on, and I was like fine, fuck you all.  I went outside, where it was pouring rain, and tried to call 911 for myself, but my socks filled up with water.  While I was fussing with that and trying to dial 911 one-handed, I thought in my dream that it was a good think I paid off my credit cards yesterday, because I’m definitely going to need them ha ha.  I finally managed to dial for an ambulance, and got put on hold, and that’s when I woke up with a headache and just flung myself out of bed in a strop.

A loss of control and agency is always one of my biggest stressors in life, and I hate being late for things.  With all of these dental appointments I’ve been having, being late for things has been a regular source of stress for me, especially since I rely on taxi cabs to get me there.  So I usually have to wake up earlier than I might want to in order to get the cab scheduled to make sure it gets here on time.  I’ve also been really unwell the last few days, constantly lizard diseasing away, which does take away my ability to control my day to a fairly significant degree.

It’s weird, because usually these dreams feature my mother, so I’m not sure why it was my aunt this time.  But the whole thing was very much me trying to do something on time while having no control over the situation around me.

But I must have like, tweaked my wrist in my sleep to make my brain suddenly think “omg my hand’s falling off!”  That’s the only thing I can really think of for whatever the hell that was.

Weird night panic

I had the weirdest night terror/panic/whatever last night, and I have no idea where it came from.

Gonna back up a bit for context though.

I have PTSD and will sometimes go days without sleep because of it.  My sleep schedule will also sometimes randomly flip, which it did for the first time in a while earlier this year.  My normal “bed time” should be about 8am, but then a few months ago I had a week where I didn’t sleep at all except for a few naps, and now I’m struggling to stay up much later than about 2am.  Not ideal.

But this means that I am sleeping alone, at home, at night, and I don’t like that.  So I keep some low lights on in the bedroom.  We have a string of Christmas lights, as well as an LED strip.  So it’s not super bright, but I can see easily across the room.  One of my symptoms is exploding head syndrome, but I don’t hear the explosions it gets its name from.  I hear doors slamming, but also occasional yelling and pounding on walls.  These are auditory hallucinations that occur when your brain is in that zone between awake and asleep, and will wake me right up into a panic.  We discovered that I cannot hear the actual front door at all if we keep the bedroom a bit loud.  Which is easy, because it heats up in there, so we have the AC and a fan running, and often some music playing as well.  I don’t hear a thing that happens outside the bedroom, so I know logically that if I hear the front door slam open, it was in my head.  But EHS is a tricksy beast, and can adapt.  So now I sometimes hear someone knocking on the bedroom window, or the bedroom door opening.  But one of those is impossible given the floor we live on, and the other will wake me up in a panic, but I can instantly see that there is nobody in my room, because we have the lights on.

So, my panic today was really weird.  I’d gone to sleep around 3-ish, my husband gets home at 6am.  We had talked about me possibly staying up late to try to watch the Grand Tour before bed, but I crashed.  He understands, and we’ll probably watch it over the weekend instead.

Around 7am, I woke up and looked at my phone to check the time.  I saw the time, and panicked.  I panicked because I knew my husband was home, and thought he’d be annoyed that I’d stayed up and pretended to be asleep.  I don’t know why I thought this.  I also thought I’d left the lamp on, because it was really bright in the bedroom for some reason (sometimes I wake up like, halfway, and am either hallucinating or still kind of dreaming, and the room always seems really bright when this happens).  But for some reason, this wigged me all the way out.  I went into my phone to turn off the lamp, and hit the wall lights instead and just plunged the room into darkness and panicked even more.  Like, wtf no wait.  That was supposed to be on.

I have no fucking idea how I managed to get back to sleep after that, but it was the weirdest thing I’ve done in a long time.  And I don’t think my husband noticed any of it.

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