I knew exactly what I was going to write about today. Then today came, and I have no idea. I spent the day resting my joints. The shoulder still hurts like hell when I move it the wrong way. I might break down and go to the ER. I can walk to Montefiore from here. I wish I had a regular doctor. Getting one is still psychologically difficult for me. Going to a doctor once I have one is easy. I have no fear of doctors or medical procedures. I fear bureaucracy not medicine. Be rationally aware of your irrationality is not pleasant. I watch myself doing things I know are against my interests.
My therapist likes when I think about my accomplishments, let’s try that. I made a Budgiedome playlist on Spotify. Listen to it while you read this. Then keep listening to it. It’s better than what’s on your radio or music player.
https://open.spotify.com/embed/user/12141050326/playlist/1MfL2CrdstNInEqnz4fULZ
I love having a smart TV. I can watch my favorite streaming services on a screen set large enough for me to see. I’m watching Season 10 of the new Doctor Who. Taking a break from watching it helped. His new companion Bill suffers from the same problem Leela did for the fourth Doctor, she’s following the best companion so is a letdown. I’m not the only one that thought that Sarah Jane Smith was the best classic series companion. It’s why she got her own series and was brought back for the new series. I suspect that Clara is held in similar esteem.
There are still details that I find annoying, like having a medieval pope be a woman. I can’t help but get distracted by thinking of all the ramifications for that to be true and for us to not know it. It can’t happen unless medieval civilization was totally different than we think and that means all civilization since then is all different. People often tell me that I think too much about these things. But it’s thinking about these things that let me still get pleasure almost 40 years later from the classic episode City of Death written by Douglas Adams. In it Da Vinci makes 10 copies of the Mona Lisa so an alien in the future can sell them to finance his experiments. The Doctor tries to foil the scheme by writing “This is a fake” in modern felt tip pen, under the paintings. When a fire destroys the original and all the copies but one, that one becomes “The Mona Lisa.” When the Doctor’s Companion, Romana, objects because it’s a fake the Doctor responds, that it was painted by Da Vinci and looks just like the original. So how does having it say, “This is a fake” in modern felt tip pen, lesson it’s value as art. That’s kept me thinking and entertained for all these years.
Back to my mental health. I was good last night. I went to sleep when I planned. I got more rest than I’ve been getting. I’m still not falling right asleep. The meditation doesn’t kick in immediately, but I was better than I’ve been and feel better today. I had only one invasive thought. When I get depressed I want to blog about it. Sometimes what comes out is inspired. Sometimes it’s harmful. When my depression was the worst and I wasn’t as experienced at blogging, I named names. I discussed that in therapy. I feel terrible about it now. I learned my lesson. No matter how much I hurt I don’t name the other people involved. I apologize to anyone who I mentioned in the past when I less wisdom and more madness.
As the brilliance isn’t coming to me I’ll wrap this up, eat, and go to the ER. I decided to do it. Falcon Ridge will be more fun if I’m not in pain and not dependent on other people. Right now, I’m not sure if I can put up or break down my tent. I fear not. I’d have trouble just packing the car. I’m hoping a shot of cortisone will put me right. You’ll find out tomorrow. I might blog again on Wednesday, but I doubt it. I’ll be back from the happiest place on earth on Monday.
Wise Madness 