Personal Diary / Journal - art, addiction and a whole lotta love

2020 Apr 04 Saturday

We tried to watch The Purge yesterday but couldn't. We try not to watch movies that are too bad. In this case, it just wasn't realistic. It's not exciting to watch a horror movie where everyone makes the bad choice, the one that puts everyone in danger.

I'm in a bit of a slum with my activities. Now that i've reached a certain plateau, a milestone with my dancing, my ambition has been realized and the interest is receding. I feel like i have no interest in anything anymore. I'm sure it will pass, maybe it's also because i've invested so many evenings in the mind/body practice these days, i've been neglecting entertainment. Maybe i'm experiencing lack of inspiration. Even starting to write this entry felt a bit forced, but i had that idea about The Purge that wanted to come out.

Yesterday i had an uncontrolled reaction towards my cat. Me and Baby Love were sitting peacefully, having just made up after a little argument, and the cat was doing it's thing near us when all of a sudden i felt it's claws on my neck and it's teeth on the back of my head. I had a very instinctive defense reaction, perhaps my back and my neck are weak points or something and i felt threatened. My aggression came from 0 to 100 in a second and i tried to hit him, but he was protected by the back of the couch. Then he was just sitting there scared waiting for me to engage, and i felt the absolute desire to sink my fingers into his flesh, i lashed but Baby Love was already pulling him away and i didn't get a fistful of fur like i wanted. I'm very embarrassed and i feel weak for what i did. I hate that i have aggression that i can't control. I felt very sorry, ashamed and low after the incident. The cat was upset for a while but now is acting normal, we had two cuddle sessions just a few minutes ago. When i wake up he likes to sit on my lap and purr, a consolation for missing us during the night maybe. I dreamed of violence and running, weapons and drugs, some contestants from a game-show we were watching earlier this week hitting on my Baby Love and me ending up throwing them out unceremoniously from the apartment i grew up in, after trying to pull apart one of their jaws. This pulling apart of the jaw is a trick i learned a few years ago in my dreams, it's a way of inflicting violence and suffering for when you can't actually hit someone and don't have a weapon at hand in a dream. Many times in a dream i'm unable to gather the speed for hitting someone and it's often frustrating. Keep in mind i'm not proud of these dreams, but i found ways to get by. Another trick is to smash their heads repeatedly against a hard surface, that also works for when hitting can't be accomplished. I wish i had dreams that don't include violence. Like walking in a field or playing something peaceful like cards or something. Often my dreams are distorted versions of reality, often very intricate and complicated and long, going from one thing to the next over what feels like hours.

I think i better cut down on the coca-cola, yesterday i was hearing a British accent just before falling sleep. In the past, during the aftermath of psychotic episodes, this hearing of murmurs or voices before falling asleep meant i was getting too much alcohol or sugar or caffeine during the day. First it started out as murmuring, sort of a white noise that i can stop if i concentrate or open my eyes. Then it became disconnected words, then sentences, now it can be weird conversations that don't make sense. Or loud sounds that appear to be very close to my ears. Now the loud sounds have vanished, but the clarity of conversation has increased. My guess is that it's still the murmuring at the base of it all, but my brain, like every other brain, tries to find patterns and give sense to the randomness, so they come across as words or sentences. I think schizophrenia only sets in when this happens during waking hours as well and you actually think there's another entity or entities in there inside the brain with you. I think so far i'm pretty clear that what i hear are just products of my own imagination in a susceptible state of almost-sleep, so i'm not in danger of developing schizo pathology. More so, in the past few years i've become almost immune to the apparent excess of caffeine, sugar or alcohol and these sounds i heard were very sporadic. Until last night when the British came. Very pleasant accent. What was the word i lingered on? Can't seem to remember. My psychiatrist and a therapist i was going to wanted to know what i was hearing exactly, asked me to write it down so i can present findings. I, on the other hand, felt that it's not important, and didn't want to try to find meaning in these ramblings, keeping close the notion that they're just a by-product of my own brain making sense of random white noise, disparate syllables that can be other words too if you try hard enough. Even to this day, even last night i noticed some words were more like sounds put together, i sensed the effort and search involved in making them sound like certain concrete words, when in fact they're just noise almost random. When you're not subjective and want to find something in particular, the bias that you put forward makes you look in a place where that something is likely to be found, or can even make you misinterpret correct results in a way that validates your biased claim. What i'm trying to say is that i'm pretty clear that it's all in my own head, not entities or demons or other people living in my head with me. Usually these sounds will resemble whatever show i've been binging on those days. If i had $1000 every time Sheldon Cooper from The Big Band Theory sounded in my head before falling asleep.. i put such a big amount because it was less than five, but still, a recurring appearance.

Back when i was little i kind of talked to God, asked Him/Her questions in my mind and received inspiring answers. On more than one occasion. I tried it lately and the answers didn't hesitate to come. I'm sure that i don't talk to the actual God, but to my good side. I ask myself questions and answers come as they always do for many people, but there is all this hype about talking to God that if you tell someone this, there's this baggage that mankind accumulated and they will get the wrong idea.

I wrote more than i thought i would. The act of typing doesn't bring me any extreme pleasure, but putting my ideas in writing does feel good. My life simulator is in it's second day of daily rewards in cash, tomorrow is potion day. I will be 10 years younger, age 36. I may start investing in stuff again to gain more finance. Which brings me to my own conundrum about interest in things. I have to say, after spilling my guts here about stuff i feel better, more balanced. The morning haze has worn off and i'm pretty lucid. But still no interest in music or dancing or anything. Perhaps it's time to apply the "waiting" part of my mind/body practice, not give in to the temptation of abandon in tangenting entertainment. I mean, that's why it's there, isn't it? The <waiting> motivator. I say motivator with some back-up, yesterday i split my ideas for the mind/body practice into two parts, one is made up of parameters, the other one of motivators. Perhaps i'll publish a photo of these ideas as they appear on my focus board so you can see what i've been up to. In fact, i'll post this whole update on Wattpad already, so my Baby Love will have a current state of events available when she wakes up. Then it's the waiting game.