The next 50 years

 I would say that yes, I am being treated abusively. However, I would not also say that I am a victim of this man, or have no power.  I'm equally capable of being viciously abusive and drawing lines and in fact, because I'm being mindful and choosing, might go farther than he would. I think pulling the plug on the router is an example of that. I went downstairs one night and did just that.  I warned him, mind you. I told him if he didn't mind his manners to me I'd do something to fuck his shit up.  I mused long on the options too, things I could do, shouldn't do, should save for "down the road if this doesn't work." Well he pushed that boundary, as he always does, to see if it had any negatives for him. Because at the bottom, he only gives a shit about how things affect him, not how they affect anyone else. We're not exactly real, I think. Like we're AIs in a game and he's supposed to work out how the program runs. Well anyway, my consequen...

I've been doing this for so long it's become natural. I imagine another person and what they might say and I respond to them. I think of it as a kind of psychotherapy. It's a way of working through problems but it's also a way of rehearsing conversations with assholes in the future. The thing is you see, it doesn't work. Every time I'm in one of those conversations, I have to think on my feet. My rehearsed comments do not come to me or do not apply. After I'm done I usually am quite proud of what I thought up and find myself again, rehearsing. It's gotten so bad, if I were to describe what it's like, you'd think I had voices in my head. But I know they're not voices in my head. I know that I make them up and I know why I make them up and I know when I started and I know it's a habit that I need to stop. It doesn't help. It raises my constant anxiety levels. It distracts me from the now. And mostly it doesn't work. Oh and did I men...

I remember long conversations.fun ones where we chased ideas. Were they hiding their irritation because I was pretty? Why can't I have that now? Why do conversations have so many micro judgements buried in them till you can't do anything without plotting it out like a game of chess? I miss good company. It seems everyone else is either too shallow or too busy or too touchy or too suspicious.  They read things into it that weren't there when I composed my words. Then want me to answer for it! Can't get an HS friend to chat me, and I get hung up between "don't take everything personally"and "is he trying to politely push me off?" The latter is winning at the moment. Reminds me of the ex who just went along with everything with a smile or a laugh, till one day he burst out with "I can't do this" and dumped me, in a hard situation. Then left town and found an old friend and sat around bad mouthing me into a monster. I found out two year...

I seems to me that humanity's interest in recording our history is directly correlated to our awareness of history. If all we ever hear are family stories, family history matters. If we hear of ancient times and how hard it is to get the story, we feel more need to create evidence of our experience than in times past. So that its not only the physical damage at issue in learning our past, but that the past didn't realize we would want to.

So the concern is about a very long term acquaintance. She is being attentive and generous and I truly don't trust her. Now she sent me a card with $100 in it appropos of nothing. I feel like I might be in sights of a sociopath. I mean we have no bad history but I know her brother and that cat has clearly been her victim. It's in how they fight and he loses his temper instantly with her. Tolerates no bossing and she's always exasperated and apologetic. I never twigged onto it before because I didn't know enough. So while the money is welcome it also has stress attached. Computer is down. I woke up to a crack through the digitizer screen. I may be able to use it if I can disable the digitizer in safe mode. Thing is I feel terrible today too. Yawning for no reason, dull brained, asthma is off the scales and the coughing has given me a massive headache and neck and shoulder ache and sore throat and chest pain. It's almost but not quite drowning out my usual lower back ...

 Just a shitty day for no reason at all.  Everything hurts. Tylenol is a joke. Headache, all my muscles ache, my tummy hurts. Back spasms. Sore hands. Feet aching. Can't stretch enough. Been like this for days.  But who cares? Take tylenol. Take selective seratonin reuptake inhibitors and stfu and go away.  Maybe if my family had cared enough to go to bat for me, to get me the disability support I needed, but they didn't.  So I'm stuck in a loop. Because I'm disabled I'm worthless to society. I don't have money or status or influence so I'm not worth putting any effort into. Because I'm not getting any support, I remain worthless. Because I remain worthless, I can't have support. Endless cycle of worthlessness. I am trying hard to fade into the walls because removing myself is the only "quick solution" I can offer to the problem of my existence. Just go away and suffer by myself. And whine in an anonymous blog where I can't get punished...

 One thing we learned from the character of Scrooge as written by C. Dickens is that wealthy people think about "reducing the surplus population."  Nobody's really surprised about that.  Except maybe their innocent family members.  Now everyone knows who the expendables are, they're the folks who require car. Whether because they're old or disabled.  They're the care home residents. Also known as "the vulnerable population" whom the Fox and allied networks want to test the vaccine on first. They're making the excuse that this will "protect" the vulnerable but given how rushed the vaccine is, it's much more likely they're choosing guinea pigs. But then there's this whole demographic of working class people being told Covid19 is fake. Don't worry about it. Resist it. Refuse all attempts to contain the virus as impingements on your freedom and the first in a long series of controls.  One might wonder why? Why convince the w...