New Look! Same Great Product! in Adaptation

In no particular order:

87) Week Six-of-Six of the repetitive Transcranial Magnetic Stimulation begins tomorrow.

And, how am I feeling?

Hmmm... overall, I'd say about 50% better - and by "better" I mean: mostly flattened out with decreased anxiety. Is this an improvement?

I dunno.

I feel less death-obsessed and chronically-suicidally-unhinged. I feel less insanity-related paralysis-paranoia (<--- my sooper-fun version of anxiety)... like, I can actually get out the door without too much crushing consternation over the 100% OBVIOUS FACT that

EVERYONE. ON. THE. ENTIRE. PLANET. IS. STARING. AND. POINTING. AND. SNICKERING. AT. MY. FUPA.

(What. It's a thing.)

Also: I've been experiencing 20-seconds-long moments of peace every few days - where I'm able to actually believe that things are relatively okay and not EVERYTHING IS A FUCKING YOOGE NIGHTMARE I CAN'T WAKE UP FROM. Right, right... my thinking is still fairly extreme and unreasonable and fluctuates wildly without my consent - but how is this news? Plus, I think my results could have/would have been better if:

a) I wasn't wracked (OMGFUCKINGWRACKED) with physical pain.

b) The dingbat psychiatrist who's running the joint knew how to relate to actual people and not just to lab rats.

c) I was getting some p-in-v on the regular. Maybe. I dunno if that's really a factor but hey! I enjoyed writing it.

Srsly, tho'. The whole thing feels similar to being six-weeks-in to a new course of anti-depressants. Except, I'm not on any anti-depressants, so... uuuhhhhhh... yay, I guess? Look, I'm an extremely pessimistic realist, it's just how I roll, yo. This treatment is not a cure and results vary (quite wildly, depending on the study). Plus, I think the dingbat may extend my course because I was a "late responder" - I might have to do another week or two and then, we'll reassess. Stay tuned!

14) Time needs to hurry-the-fuck-UP-and-pass-already. I have roughly 972 things in the hopper that I'm (im)patiently waiting for.

Waitingwaitingwaitingwaitingwaitingfuck.

There is so much shit going on at the moment - shit I want to be on the other side of. I feel like so much time and energy has been wasted, squandered, lost forever. Can we just get.the.fuck.ON.with.it.ferfuckssakes? Hurry up and wait.

506) I'm in the midst of a full-on-high-gear-over-eating-carb-frenzy-fugue. It's not pretty. There have been multiple triggers but it's the usual standard obsessive-addict behaviour. When I eat junk, it alters me - mentally and physically. I know this. I also know that it comes and goes - I haven't been on one of these... binges... for a long time. I'm trying to be gentle and compassionate with myself because beating myself up for it only allows MORE shitty-feelings which leads to more shitty-choices and oh, look! Shame spiral! Ummm... it's okay. I'm okay. It'll pass. It's temporary. Everything is.

112) SURVEY TIME, BITCHES!!!

A - Age: Forty-goddamned-three, jesus.

B - Bed size: Double. Hate. I'm almost six-feet-long, ya dig?

C - Chore you hate: Dishes. It was a deciding factor in my upcoming reconciliation with Peter. He's agreed to do them all, like he always did, for the last 25 years because: he "doesn't mind" doing them. Isn't he mental? Fuckin' nutjob.

D - Dog's name: Fuck dogs and 98% of their stupid, inconsiderate, asshole-owners. (PRESENT COMPANY EXCLUDED! LOVE YOU! LOVE YOUR POOCH! SO CUTE!)

E - Essential start your day item: A whole pot of coffee. Don't judge.

F - Favorite color: All coloUrs! You should see my new apartment! The kitchen is... CANTALOUPE!!!

G - Gold or Silver: Silver. Gold is hella tacky (to me).

H - Height: Almost six-feet-long, ya dig?

I - Instruments you play(ed): Trumpet, skin-flute.

J - Job title: Full-time mental patient.

K - Kid(s): Three: Sean, 25. Jake, 22. My-gurl-Drew, 17.

L - Living arrangements: Temporary, highrise, one-bedroom shit-hole for the next four-ish weeks. Then, a much-nicer, long-term, two bedroom walk-up in a much-nicer neighbourhood.

M - Mum's name: Pat.

N - Nicknames: Suzy.

O - Overnight hospital stay: Many-many due to illness, baby-having, surgeries, etc.

P - Pet Peeve(s): Dog shit everywhere, the 144 bus, hangnails, chapped lips, changing the milk-bag, ugly-bitches-with-giant-baby-strollers, most pants (too short), child-proof caps... the list is long.

Q - Quote from a movie: "I got fuckin' shot in the face!"

R - Right or left handed: Left.

S - Siblings: Two of each, all older than me, not in contact with them.

T - Time you wake up: 2:30, 4:30, 7:30... every.single.fucking.night/morning.

U- Underwear: Not at the moment.

V - Vegetable you dislike: Broccoli. I eat it but I really do hate it.

W - Ways you run late: Lately (heh!), it's due to the 144 bus. Otherwise, I'm usually on time for most stuff. Sort of. Maybe. Then again, I have nowhere to be.

X - X-rays you've had: Dental, neck, shoulders, elbows, wrists/hands, ribs, back, lower back, hips, knees, ankles... so far: two broken ribs! Bonus-round x-ray!!!: while my mother lay dying trying to birth me, they X-RAY-ed her (us) to see why my freakishly-enormous-infant-self (12 and half POUNDS OF OVERDUE BABY-MEAT!!!) wouldn't fit through my more-midgety mother's relatively small pelvis - before they c-sectioned me out at the last possible second before both of us died.

Y - Yummy food you make: I bake like a motherfucker and it's delicious.

Z - Zoo animal: Y'know... a lot of people have been all: "Oh! Zoos! Awful! Look how cool I am, denouncing them like a privileged-white-asshole. God. So horrible!" and I'm all: "Shut up, douche." I LOVE THE ZOO! Because, think about it! Will I EVER IN MY LIFE, travel the world to see elephants and big-cats and lemurs and giraffes and monkeys and polar bears and ostriches in their natural habitat? Nope. That's why I go to the zoo! Plus, most reputable zoos are regulated and there are people who give more shits about preserving warthogs than they do about making sure other HUMAN BEINGS have enough to eat so... shut your piehole.