Tonight, I have something to look forward to – a new toy. I’ll be playing with Amazon Fire (ha – get it? Playing with fire!) on the basement TV.
Another toy, another of a seemingly endless line of distractions from dwelling on my mental state.
Life inside my head has been harder lately. Real or imagined phantoms stalk me at work; I probably embarrassed the hell out of myself at my last therapy session and it’s taking everything I can muster just to write this. Podcasts and video production have fallen by the wayside, replaced by hours of Internet browsing (Facebook), whiskey and cigars.
I’m not healthy. I don’t care like I should.
I feel wounded and trying to recover. I want to live in the basement and have the world leave me alone (except for the Internet). I have lost all ability to understand and appreciate fun. I was going to write a blog post lamenting all the things I used to love doing that I no longer do, but it became too depressing to write.
Mental/emotional issues seem to run in cycles sometimes with triggering events, sometimes not. I have completely been unable to get a handle on the why and how of my cycles. It all seems a blur right now – even daily life with one angst filled day bleeding into another.
I think too much, I fear too much, I sleep too much, I feel too much and I have little control over all of it. Even in my basement fortress, I am prone to rage episodes. A few hours – day or so later, I look back and fear myself. This Jekyll-Hyde thing is getting too near the bone for me.
Is it the meds? Who knows? And who would tell me? Not my psychiatrist, that’s for sure.
Are things getting worse or is it all in my head? (see what I did there?)
Maybe my childhood explains this – when I was kid, toys were scarce. My parents rarely bought me anything I asked for (you never get everything you ask for, of course, but every now and then perhaps something?) and usually I would count down the days to Christmas so I could open the best gifts which would come from my paternal grandparents.
So now that I have the money, I keep buying the toys – these electronic gadgets representing what I was denied in childhood and what I couldn’t afford as a young adult. There must be something there – some evening up the score to replace what other kids had that I didn’t. And the fact that they make me happy – for a little while (like any toy, then forgotten), seems to bear that out.
So, Amazon, send me toys to play with as I revert to some kind of childlike state where I need a constant new distraction so I don’t think of my madness too carefully or too much. I want to play. No one to play with so send the gadgets.
I’m in a lot of pain right now and I want some toys to play with. I’m not sure where this goes.