Psychosomatic in Adventures in paradise

So, with the apartment we are renting being sold, and the seller wanting to drag prospective buyers through, my housemate and I are considering getting our respective sex-toys and laying them out in the common areas, you know, as art pieces.  Unfortunately my housemate doesn't have his Dolly Parton shrine set up as of yet, because, that would be hilarious.

Anyway, apparently it is preferable that we aren't home whilst the open-home slots are taking place, which will more than likely be on a Saturday.  Wouldn't bother me if it was in a fortnight's time anyway, as I'll be away, but I feel it will happen sooner than then.  The seller has sent Docusign forms for me to sign, but they list my past housemate's details on them, so even if I sign it, it won't work, as he doesn't live here!  So annoying, and more stress for me I didn't need this morning.  The annoying thing about Docusign is it keeps emailing every single day until I send the damn thing back.  I have to sign an 'Open Home Consent' form and a separate 'Images Consent' form, as the photos will contain things like my couch and whatnot.  I know the seller did say to my housemate that he can use stock-photos of a similar apartment in the building, so whether that happens or not, I dunno.  Real estates are dodgy like that in my country.  Photos from there wouldn't show the huge crack in our kitchen benchtop nor the peeling paint on a few of the walls.  Luckily, I have my notifications turned off as part of my mental health balancing, and just check my email when I get around to it.  Thank-God.

My mum's constant SMS's are stressful enough as it is.  I wish I could mute those lol.  I suppose I could, but it wouldnt look good.  My dad's back in the hospital.  His legs and feet look horrible, even more than they were.  His doctor wanted him to stay in to try and get it under control.  In the words of mum, the doctor 'nearly had a fit when he saw his legs and feet!'  I no doubt am sure that these messages are being sent to all of us kids and probably a few other non-family members also, which is fine.  My mum is all about the drama and gossip.  My dad would hate this - everyone knowing the state he's in, and every fall he has.  I'm convinced his legs look as bad as they do due to all the falls he's had.  Surely he would have had his body-weight fall on them awkwardly or something.  I still don't know if he's now dying or not, given his latest PET-scan coming back clear, but mum is still in talk with the palliative care team, and the latest messages are about how dad can't get out of the chair in the hospital and her wondering how much more of this he can handle.  So yeah, depressing.  

And I'm heading to Taiwan in a fortnight's time for two weeks, and knowing my luck, that's when dad will decide, "Welp, I've had enough and am dying again" and I'll have to get an emergency flight back.  Anyway, kinda prepped for that anyway, but I can't run away from my problems at the end of the day, no matter where I am in the world.

Yesterday was a bad anxiety day, but today has been much better.  I keep trying to note what I've done differently and yesterday I took some more of the Magnesium Glycinate, which a bunch of people on Reddit forums raved about helping their anxiety, but I don't even know what's real and what's placebo anymore - after eight or so months of this shit.  Plus the last session with my therapist wasn't exactly the best, and I'm still a bit pissed off at her suggestion that I should go for a drive somewhere and put myself and other motorists in danger.  Ergh.  I need to focus on my gratitude, and my nutrition and my meditation as a forefront before I can even think about being comfortable with getting in a car, but I also get it - it's exposure therapy.  In my family and extended family, we have always learned by doing, not just reading, we have to physically do it, and I know how true that is.  My therapist also said to me in the session last week that she doesn't think talk therapy is as effective for me.  Great, so why am I here then again?  I was so miffed after that appointment that I'm wondering if I should just cancel the next one.  Lord knows I've handed over enough money now - over $1000, and that's with the rebates.  I also read today that 1 in 6 Australians seeked mental health support in 2024, and only 8% booked in to see a psychologist.  Yikes.  Nice to know I'm part of 8%, but those are depressing figures, right?  No-one can afford one, especially in a cost of living crisis.  I've certainly had to space out my appointments to afford them.  I remember how scared I was in those first 5+ appointments.  Now that I've had 8, it feels like she's trying to push me out of them.  I have one booked in December, and then they close for Christmas, and the rebates reset in the new-year, so I won't have time for my 10th one in time, but that's okay.  I've timed it pretty well otherwise.  And compared to where I was... Jebus.  And still no meds.  Eep.  I was just thinking today about those three times I was back in my doctor's office, crying about how scared I was, but each time, he encouraged me to stick with the therapy.  He said he would give me the drugs if I really wanted them, but somehow I fought through.  And yesterday was one of those tough days, but I wasn't having suidical thoughts like I was at the start.  It was uncomfortable.  I'm noticing that, and telling myself that it's okay to be uncomfortable.  I am human and this is "part of the human experience" (I had to question that when I heard it on a podcast, as I don't feel it is for most people lol).  

All I know is mental health can be a fucking beast, and it still blows my mind how personal it is for each individual.  There's no way that some of my intrusive thoughts are going through other people's minds.  I've been in my therapist's office (in just that last session) and she's been talking to me, and my brain has decided to throw at me, "I wonder what her vagina looks like." I wondered that, whilst I was looking right into her eyes.  Thank GOD it didn't go into deep rumination, as i would have thrown up (as a gay man) but that's what my brain was going to the extreme's to throw at me.  I would have beat myself up about that a few months ago.  Luckily thoughts like that have been brought up in the 'Disordered' podcast (which has been a big help, give or take) and they are normal.  Like, getting a "bodily reaction" at, say, a children's birthday party.  Things like that just happen to some people and the brain can make them feel deep, deep shame for it.  And it will try it from many different directions.  And some people, unfortunately, will act on it.  I remember reading in the form I had to fill out before my first psych session, there was a disclaimer about Pedophilia and how they legally have to report them to the police (if they've done something along those lines).  I remember thinking how sad that was!  If someone goes to a therapist, seeking help from that, just to read that on the form.  Shame, even at the therapist's office.  I guess that's the point, to try and nab it before it potentially becomes something more sinister, but man that would be hard to bring up, probably even moreso than me wanting to kill myself.  It was worded on that form that even thinking about it was a reportable offence, although that would have been my brain interpretted it.  How strange is that?  The level of shame that has been conditioned into me.  It's kind of scary.  It's really scary.  For the record, I don't have pedophilia thoughts and am so thankful I don't, but I understand that a lot of people do.  I remember when I was called for jury duty and the guy on trial was (alledgedly) one.  I didn't get selected though, so I don't know how that trial turned out.  I just remember the Daniel Morcombe one was happening at the same time in a different courtroom and how I wished I was up for that one instead (yeah right, as if I would have been able to mentally deal with that one!)  

I've learned to just notice them (thoughts) like any other one, although I should say learnING as I still have days like yesterday, where I should have brought what I've learned into practice more than I did, but I was just uncomfortable instead.  So I resorted to meditating, which is up to the visualisation plans, so that somewhat helped, I suppose.  My therapist also did one of those with me last week, so there's a bit of a theme lately.  And I feel better today, so I need to accept that I have some downer days and some better days.  God, her vagina - really brain?  Really clutching at straws with that one!  Maybe next time, my brain can decide to throw at me that it wonders if she has a hot brother with 9-inches instead.  But noooo, that wouldn't be an intrusive uncomfortable thought now, would it?  See, I'm clueing on here, mr brain.  

This entry kind of veered off all over the place, much like my brain does, but I get why I'm still anxious, what, with all this background-shit going on.  It's like I told my friend Moe, "I just need some shit to calm the fuck down already! God!"

I'm catching up with the guys for dinner tomorrow night, so I'm looking forward to that :)