In my latest dream, before the storm warning announcement woke me up, I was explaining to someone that I'll just have to learn to get over bad things that happen, or at least the relatively small bad things anyway. I've already spent the past two POTUS terms being slowed down or sometimes staggered by what they call current events, not to mention the innumerable annoyances that went on in my so-called private life, and I'm still here to remind y'all that 'you had been warned'; it might be fun to stick around long enough to remind you that 'you can't blame me for this one either' till I'm sure you've really had enough. Maybe I'll try to refrain from suggesting things you might try to improve the situation or just aid in coping, fools never listen to good advice either. (Hi Jonah Earl Thomas!) And it might be beneficial to me to ease up on the 'doomscrolling', I did enough of that during the first Trump pandemic.
And I have decided that it's okay to have an occasional dose of ethanol from time to time, but I'll keep taking the naltrexonel--the original dose that didn't stop my bowels completely--because the original motive for drying out was lack of sufficient funds, which after the end of this year will be rectified, and because there were a few things that needed doing, which have been getting done: the credit bills are getting paid off, and I have just one more appointment scheduled, a dental visit this Friday, and then this year's To Do list should be over. It would've been finished earlier if I'd known that this state's "satanic socialist" governor had indeed ordered that Medicaid pay for hearing aids, glasses, and more dental work than was previously covered; of course that can't last very long, so I'm going to try to hold on to some savings and to keep my credit bills down and my credit score up.
My decades-long reliance on SSRI, bupropion, and caffeine should keep being enough to get me through most days, and the added naltrexone should help keep my weight down and render booze optional instead of a daily must-have (and even during the 2000 lockdown I wasn't starting the day off with a drink). Unless something happens that really knocks me down, simply continuing to have a mundane existence won't be an insuperable problem. For as long as I can say motivated anyway: the past few years of aging has been wearing and wearying, and there've been no lack of opportunities to just give up already.
I've proven to be resilient enough to carry on so far; it's maintaining motivation that's been the main problem. That requires both a goal to strive toward, getting assistance when needed, and a few rewards along the way. And the list of things I had been doing, of resources I'd been counting on, has been steadily diminishing along with my energy (there is a correlation anyhow), and I can tell you that running on bitter spite and noxious fumes hasn't been much fun for the past decade or so. It ain't been easy, and I can't see that improving.
So if anybody out there has some investment in my person or feels a need to offer me something you're welcome to let me know. And episodes of mutual commiseration might be a good idea as well, and there might be some assistance I can render you if need be. (It can be fun to be helpful, and I do have a conscience to assuage.) But I must warn you that if your problems are worse than mine and/or your are resources fewer you'd do better to turn to someone else. I'm depleted enough already, already it's gotten difficult to maintain those contacts that had been established. (In fact most days it's all I can do to be around people for an elevator ride.) I've always had trouble keeping up my end of things, there are probably several people reading this who can attest to that, and it's not like 61 years of weathering have done me a lot of good.
But. However. As I rarely tire of demonstrating, I am by nature a self-absorbed semi-solipsist with chronic depression (leavened by fits of unjustified elation and a tendency toward useless paranoia), and being "realistic" is complicated by my on-going bad attitude. If you can't handle my "negativity" you'd best fuck right off. Nor will I venture any promises to keep carrying on, not for my own sake much less for any of yours, unless my situation unaccountably improves. Or unless somebody needs me more than I need them, which has been so rare an experience that I might no recognize it if it plops down right in front of me. (And even my lordly dog lived with somebody else who could afford to do right by him in that way, another debt I've had to carry.) So I will continue to do the best I feel up to, given whatever givens I'm up to overcoming.
All I'm saying is if you want something from me it better be good. I can't be bothered very much, and there are often days when I won't bother at all. And, as has happened in the past, if I'm ever all you've got you're in very bad shape -- so maybe you should just quit. My usual condition ain't been much fun to be in, so being more pathetic than me maybe ought to be illegal.
Until further notice I shall be accepting suggestions for good things you might offer me and/or good things we might do together. Of course I can't promise to take anybody up on anything, but there must be things I'll do well to consider. But you'll have to go first: in my current position suggesting or requesting anything would feel too much like crawling, and I did way too much of that before turning 30 in 1993. Surviving on spite requires a good deal of pride, and if you take into consideration all the things I won't suffer and can't be bothered to do you'll realize what a proud son of a bitch I really am, in my own special way. I've had to be. That has been obvious for quite some time, though few of you are able to see it.
Y'all who might need to have heard all this will do well to keep it in mind. You can't expect me to keep repeating myself for much longer. And even I get tired of putting up with my shit.
I'll post a link to a blog entry containing this so you'll have an easy time saving it for future reference.
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