Greetings, dear readers.
I got over some of the slog of Amanda's second week here before too long. Robby has been very nice to me, and has made my life at home quite pleasant, though I still don't really like being around Nathan. I threw out my potted plants after a household fight, but the issues therein have since been resolved. I don't know whether I will try growing some late carrots or something. I might. Mostly, as always, I stay in bed when I'm not working.
A short time back, I had a very prolific few days for digital artwork, finishing several commissions on ChickenSmoothie in quick succession, and I've been happier at work, even though when I sort my back starts hurting badly, and last Sunday, I cleaned up semi-liquid shit from the walls and carpet in one of our changerooms, which someone had left us and tried to hide behind the chair. I don't know the story behind that, but apparently this is the only known time it's happened.
I have just finished my last challenge in a delightfully fun jaunt with a short indie game that combines match-3 puzzles with pseudo-random dungeon delving called 10000000. Yes, that's Ten Million. The goal of the game is to get ten million points, at which point you earn your freedom. It won't happen easily. Along the way, you explore dungeons to get gold which you can spend on better equipment, experience which you can spend on perks and abilities, and wood and stone which you need to rebuild and upgrade ruined rooms in your home in order to do so. It's well polished and good fun for a few hours, and has some very kickin' music. It's also available for only $5 US, as befits a short, coffee break type game. I recommend it to anyone to whom that sounds at all entertaining.
Household harmony has increased. Though I still have periods of substantial laziness, I feel that I've been getting used to doing dishes more often, and have minded less than before.
We had a guest over for a couple of days this week. We played two games of Dungeon Petz, which is also very fun, and hung out a bunch and ate together. It was good times, and there were cuddles and hugs.
I am starting to run out of my psych pills, and I don't think I was prescribed a refill. I suppose I may have to go talk to my clinic doctor about getting refills for them.
That's my life at the moment. It's not all that dramatic, but I am having some fun. Occasionally I dream of running a shelter or a low-cost inn of sorts, inspired by the cheap goods I work with at Goodwill. You'll hear from me again before too long, probably. Fare thee well, all.
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Friday, May 2, 2014
Return to Mud
I've been depressed and tired.
I'm on a new medication for anxiety and obsessive compulsive disorder that a psychologist I saw at Victoria Hospital prescribed me, but I am not convinced it's doing anything. It may even be contributing to the problem for all I know. Or possibly that's more to do with the adjustment to my thyroid supplements that came at about the same time.
My moods seem, if anything, even more swingy recently. My room is becoming a mess again after I cleaned it. The plants I was watering have begun to wilt and fall over, the roots coming to the surface rather than good strong stem all the way down. I think I even saw some whitish mold starting to grow in the pots. Robby suggested moving them to my room where they should get more direct sunlight from my window than they do from the living room one, because that usually has a sheet over it. It's a good idea. I'm just waiting for a time when I have enough energy to feel like I can and want to do anything beyond work, which is continuing to wear me down. And of course I am still plagued by anxiety about whether I am performing well enough to be valuable, rather than just another replaceable part.
Our roommate's girlfriend didn't really keep interacting with me during her second week here, and didn't even clean up much beyond the first whirl of activity, so things are back to their old habitual ways of constantly falling into mess. Not that I can say I'm doing a lot about it.
The worst parts for me are that late into the night I can hear my boyfriend talking online, through my bedroom wall, and the ceiling creaks and thuds above me both late at night and early enough in the morning that it's hard to get a good night's sleep and I can rarely get back to sleep for a little extra rest if I wake up early or just tired.
That and an increasing feeling of hostility between me and our other roommate, over whom I have no influence, and who tends to mess up the kitchen and not clean it.
That and the internet is constantly choked and hideously slow. Sometimes service will pick up for a while only to lag to crap again in the middle of something, or disappear so completely that pages or videos won't even load. Our upload speed is abysmal, so we can't properly share things with our friends online. There is hopefully something that could be done about this if we harassed our ISP about it enough, but Robby is understandably reluctant to do so. He's bogged down, too.
Throughout all this, some really good, neat things have gone on. I've just recently finished a really good book, I started a new Let's Play of an old game I used to love, and even sketched a few nice pictures a while back. Robby has been supportive, loving and sexy. We kiss a lot more than we used to. But somehow I can't seem to hold on to the good energy of any of those things. I keep dreaming about bedbugs, and feeling trapped in a room surrounded by hostility and mess and invaded by noise...
I want to be living somewhere else, with just Robby and me, a slightly smaller, cozier, quieter place, with more counter space in the kitchen. A place we control together, co-operatively. A place that is ours.
I'm on a new medication for anxiety and obsessive compulsive disorder that a psychologist I saw at Victoria Hospital prescribed me, but I am not convinced it's doing anything. It may even be contributing to the problem for all I know. Or possibly that's more to do with the adjustment to my thyroid supplements that came at about the same time.
My moods seem, if anything, even more swingy recently. My room is becoming a mess again after I cleaned it. The plants I was watering have begun to wilt and fall over, the roots coming to the surface rather than good strong stem all the way down. I think I even saw some whitish mold starting to grow in the pots. Robby suggested moving them to my room where they should get more direct sunlight from my window than they do from the living room one, because that usually has a sheet over it. It's a good idea. I'm just waiting for a time when I have enough energy to feel like I can and want to do anything beyond work, which is continuing to wear me down. And of course I am still plagued by anxiety about whether I am performing well enough to be valuable, rather than just another replaceable part.
Our roommate's girlfriend didn't really keep interacting with me during her second week here, and didn't even clean up much beyond the first whirl of activity, so things are back to their old habitual ways of constantly falling into mess. Not that I can say I'm doing a lot about it.
The worst parts for me are that late into the night I can hear my boyfriend talking online, through my bedroom wall, and the ceiling creaks and thuds above me both late at night and early enough in the morning that it's hard to get a good night's sleep and I can rarely get back to sleep for a little extra rest if I wake up early or just tired.
That and an increasing feeling of hostility between me and our other roommate, over whom I have no influence, and who tends to mess up the kitchen and not clean it.
That and the internet is constantly choked and hideously slow. Sometimes service will pick up for a while only to lag to crap again in the middle of something, or disappear so completely that pages or videos won't even load. Our upload speed is abysmal, so we can't properly share things with our friends online. There is hopefully something that could be done about this if we harassed our ISP about it enough, but Robby is understandably reluctant to do so. He's bogged down, too.
Throughout all this, some really good, neat things have gone on. I've just recently finished a really good book, I started a new Let's Play of an old game I used to love, and even sketched a few nice pictures a while back. Robby has been supportive, loving and sexy. We kiss a lot more than we used to. But somehow I can't seem to hold on to the good energy of any of those things. I keep dreaming about bedbugs, and feeling trapped in a room surrounded by hostility and mess and invaded by noise...
I want to be living somewhere else, with just Robby and me, a slightly smaller, cozier, quieter place, with more counter space in the kitchen. A place we control together, co-operatively. A place that is ours.
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