So I went ahead and set up a separate blog for the Chaos Pen stuff so now I don’t have to worry anymore about the parental ratings of the content and I can just write whatever over there. Meanwhile I can resume my usual ranting and musing about life, universe, and nothing over here. In a way nothing has really changed I suppose. Just going to seem a little empty over here now I guess?
And yeah, it’s Therapy Tuesday so YES I did see my therapist and no, this wasn’t really in response to anything discussed in there. It wasn’t really productive at all. Not her fault either. I started off feeling bitchy, and just came in buzzing right along trying to get her caught up with the week. And then I hit the damn story and I’m trying to explain what it’s about and I’m trying to do with it. That’s when I see her face.
It’s like fuck. I’m not just hypomanic. I’m far off the deep end of flight of ideas and pressured speech here. And she suggested that I could just post this story as I go…..
……
So I had to explain to her what a “vomit draft” actually means when I say it. It’s one thing to write a vomit draft with focus. It’s completely different when you get into the zone and start writing from a stream of consciousness state of mind. An awesome thing when you’re thinking clearly for it to happen. It’s a horrible thing to happen when you are afflicted with flight of ideas. It’s like when your windshield gets hit by a pebble and it cracks in a spider web pattern, only with the brain it doesn’t quit. The thoughts just keep running all those threads all at once. And they’re barely connected.
Disorganized thinking, for me, is when you have the points of thought there but the threads are gone. Very little, if anything is connected, and nothing is making sense in your head. But everything is still moving at a rapid rate. BUT here is a better definition of that here.
And all of this for me is anxiety inducing. I feel I do not have control of myself. I can’t even be the master of my own head let alone the master of the laundry. And it feels like the older I get, the worse this shit becomes. And then people wonder why I get angry, why I’m not getting shit done the way they want it done on their timeline, why I don’t have the motivation they way they feel like I should, or whatever else it is they are getting upset with me about. It’s not that I can’t do any of those things. I can. But I need to do them differently.
So yes, as much as I would love to have a second pair of eyes on that story I need to say “not right now” because I know that when I come down from this thing my brain is doing I’m going to reread what I’ve written and repair so much of it – quite possibly even resort using it as material for a restart. I’m still trying to figure out who the main male character is exactly that’s being introduced in this piece. I thought I knew but he keeps doing weird shit on me so I need to sort that out. It’s almost like I’m trying to tell too many stories at once in one piece or something.
In any case, I feel like I’m derailing in a serious way. Sleep might be a good thing if it would just fucking happen.