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erikaMuch to my amazement, in two hours I turn forty.
Forty. Four zero. 40. 4. 0. I've been telling almost everyone I meet, repeating the facts to strangers and friends and acquaintances, my psychiatrist and my sister and my surrogate aunts. I didn't expect to get here and I find the fact of forty, frankly, jarring. My teeth grit against the absolute insanity of time marching on to this extent—how did I get here?
Some of the people who are reading this potentially have known me since I was 12 and just like me, probably didn't expect me to get here. Mind-boggling as well.
What has changed recently? Not much! To misquote Tolstoy, perhaps happy days are all alike, but each unhappy day is unhappy in its own way. Or maybe it's the opposite, and it's my newfound ability to revel in choice of enjoyable activities with a reliably upbeat mood climate that's truly unlocked this newfound persistence of pleasant presence.
Current psychiatrist has narrowed down my meds and diagnoses to a fine degree, now that she actually believes I'm ill. (Long story but basically she didn't take me seriously until my last attempt. Wait, not a long story.) Who would have guessed that the magic wand would be ~lithium~ and the magic words, bipolar disorder? Doc's not 100% on it yet but I'm pretty convinced.
My intention is to update again tomorrow, but I'll post this now just in case.
Forty. Four zero. 40. 4. 0. I've been telling almost everyone I meet, repeating the facts to strangers and friends and acquaintances, my psychiatrist and my sister and my surrogate aunts. I didn't expect to get here and I find the fact of forty, frankly, jarring. My teeth grit against the absolute insanity of time marching on to this extent—how did I get here?
Some of the people who are reading this potentially have known me since I was 12 and just like me, probably didn't expect me to get here. Mind-boggling as well.
What has changed recently? Not much! To misquote Tolstoy, perhaps happy days are all alike, but each unhappy day is unhappy in its own way. Or maybe it's the opposite, and it's my newfound ability to revel in choice of enjoyable activities with a reliably upbeat mood climate that's truly unlocked this newfound persistence of pleasant presence.
Current psychiatrist has narrowed down my meds and diagnoses to a fine degree, now that she actually believes I'm ill. (Long story but basically she didn't take me seriously until my last attempt. Wait, not a long story.) Who would have guessed that the magic wand would be ~lithium~ and the magic words, bipolar disorder? Doc's not 100% on it yet but I'm pretty convinced.
My intention is to update again tomorrow, but I'll post this now just in case.
(no subject)
3 November 2025 22:13wychwoodThe most obvious thing about visiting Mum is how much better she is than last time. You can tell, because instead of lying on the sofa snoozing she kept coming in to stare at me, poke things in my vicinity, remind me of things I agreed to do several hours later in the day, and generally manifest an almost physical aura of PLEASE HANG OUT WITH ME. I did my best, but between work, online social things I already had scheduled in my calendar before this visit was agreed, and my desperate need to spend some time On My Own In The Quiet With A Book, it definitely was not enough. Hopefully my brother will do a better job now he's there.
Anyway, I came home and unpacked, caught up with as many delayed chores as I could bring myself to face, and plunged straight back into ordinary life. The laundry is going to be a couple of weeks to get caught up, I can see already...
Work is not exactly quiet, but mostly the sort of normal where I can hope to catch up with some of the lurking to-do list. I'm still three months behind on the reporting (technically four, but there's only about half-an-hour left on July) but I am feeling much less out of control about everything. At least, unless I think too hard about all of the ongoing items in my 121 action tracker.
I've taken the opportunity to book a couple of days off, at which point I'm hoping to make a start on Christmas planning. I didn't have my usual too-early panic this year because September and October did not have enough time for extra panics, but now it's November and I need to get on with it. The year zooms past, my personal to-do list app accumulates overdue items, and the last international posting date is looming, or will once they announce it.
Anyway, I came home and unpacked, caught up with as many delayed chores as I could bring myself to face, and plunged straight back into ordinary life. The laundry is going to be a couple of weeks to get caught up, I can see already...
Work is not exactly quiet, but mostly the sort of normal where I can hope to catch up with some of the lurking to-do list. I'm still three months behind on the reporting (technically four, but there's only about half-an-hour left on July) but I am feeling much less out of control about everything. At least, unless I think too hard about all of the ongoing items in my 121 action tracker.
I've taken the opportunity to book a couple of days off, at which point I'm hoping to make a start on Christmas planning. I didn't have my usual too-early panic this year because September and October did not have enough time for extra panics, but now it's November and I need to get on with it. The year zooms past, my personal to-do list app accumulates overdue items, and the last international posting date is looming, or will once they announce it.
Poem: "One Big Beautiful BS"
31 October 2025 23:26jjhunterOne Big Beautiful BS -
that the sludge of the past could ever be forever burned without consequence
Whose bones are they breaking today
drilling out the marrow of our good earth
emptying out communities to collapse in upon themselves?
perhaps they expect neighbors will be eating neighbors the very next day
all these hoarders so eager to end good governance by the people, for the people
( boys in masks waving guns )
___
Last edited: 01Nov25
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
that the sludge of the past could ever be forever burned without consequence
Whose bones are they breaking today
drilling out the marrow of our good earth
emptying out communities to collapse in upon themselves?
perhaps they expect neighbors will be eating neighbors the very next day
all these hoarders so eager to end good governance by the people, for the people
( boys in masks waving guns )
___
Last edited: 01Nov25
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.