Nov 16

 Up early this morning. Giving the Hazel & Poppy a lift to the station for a two week visit to her dad down in Cornwall. Such things are not trivial for me to pull off these days with the old fluctuating health, but, important to do the thing, ease her super anxiety a bit with a no hassle lift, help out a friend. Suck it up soldier.

I went and picked her up, she looked a little worse for wear and confessed she had got no sleep.

Not good. Not good for a trip right across London on public transport with an energetic dog in tow.

Oh well.

I was calming in the car with her as her anxiety amped. Chill. It's ok. You have plenty of time. A soothing voice. Measured. Low volume. Just a purr of positivity to calm the nerves. I suppose somewhat akin to singing to a fretting baby. That shit works with people of all ages. Be calm.

After a fairly uninterrupted ramble about her packing and Poppy and everything and omg where are you parking, and omg the taxis wont like it, and omg it's taking too long, she was gone. Off on her travels.

She was 30 minutes early for her train.

And my good deed for the day was done.

Rest.

I have noticed there is a complex interplay with how I am feeling, how tired I get, and what I've been doing. In general. A little light activity out of the house tends to be a good thing. And makes me feel a little better. Most of the time. It is also more often than not super tiring and wears me out. When I am too tired to go out, I tend to feel worse. But pushing it when feeling tired and doing the thing anyway... also makes me feel worse. There is a bit of a trap down there, no energy, can't go out, feel worse. Ignore it. Feel worse. There's no real answer to it. Just an observable pattern. About the best you can hope for is sleep, and a bit of a reset. Though again, not a silver bullet. Sleep is a coin flip about whether it makes me feel better or worse. It does however have the benefit of making you unconscious for a while. Unconscious is better than feeling worse. By a mile. Sweet oblivion.

Yesterdays moment of self reflection and insecurity has if not gone then receded. I asked a couple of people why they liked me. Not for the sake of validation I pointed out. Just because. I needed to know what they saw. Whether it was me. Which one of the many bits of me, did they like. Or know of.

I am still convinced that people only love facets of you is absolutely correct. And that as people change, it's possible the facets they liked fade, and people can drift or dislike you, or yada. I am not at all convinced people tend to love on a pure basis of loving everything about a person. But perhaps that right there, is my strong bias. Not really believing people can love totally. Which. In consideration is somewhat unfair. But still. I know how people tick. And the wax and wane of likes and dislikes. It is rare to find those that can love someone unconditionally and understand their good and bad. And even rarer to find someone that can pierce to the core and understand a person in their totality. At least, in my experience anyway. I find that incredibly sad. Another manifestation of how we are often alone at that level. Few things make me happier than have someone join me down there. No secrets. No masks. As close as you can get, for want of a better word, than two souls just vibing together.

Which, in my humble opinion, is lovely.

In any case. A few friends were at pains to tell me they liked me for who I was, all of me. That I was caring and wise and a good listener, easy to talk to and be in the company of, well read, thoughtful.

Uh huh.

A misery.

You say that, said a friend. And as much as I dont want to tell you what you are and know you better than you - but I do not see you as miserable. The reverse. You're quite happy and positive. You're not an asshole. Hanging out with you is easy. Nice.

I think I am a world of darkness and suffering. But perhaps that's more internal than external. I suppose externally I try to help people and am caring and thoughtful. So. That, at least, is not negative. Externally.

Perhaps I am not as negative as I thought. Perhaps I just have some vicious shit tinted spectacles when viewing myself. Or. It's just a description of the depression that dogs my steps. That feeling of hopelessness. And all I'm really doing, is giving voice to the feeling of being depressed. But that in and of itself, does not make me negative.

Uh huh.

Food for thought.

Anyway. Today, such things have faded into the background, at least somewhat calmed to know that some people at least, have a better measure of me than I thought. Or at least. Know the right things to say. Ha. 

So, I'm on what. Day 7 of the CBD stuff ? What are the results if any ?

Well. The effects - if any - are subtle. I think it tends to have a subtle calming effect on me. A big enough dose and it's blanketing. I have noticed this because the last couple of days I've buggered around with the dose. Down to zero. And back again. 

It hasn't had much if any impact on the gastro and sickness. So. Uh huh. But it does take the edge off of mania. But can just be pushed through anyway.

So. Not sure. Seems too subtle to give a shit about to be honest. But. Hard to know the exact scale of effects when you're in the eye of the storm. Even if it's a peaceful storm.

I think I will knock the drinks on the head. They range from not great, to bloody awful. With stupid middle class twattery flavours. Lemon and basil. Ginger and bullshit. Mint and something. The mint one is truly vile. It's like drinking toothpaste. Arguably one of the worst things I've ever consumed. Why they couldn't just make a goddamn lemonade, a lemon and lime or a cola is beyond me. Oh no no no. How common. Try this. It's fuckwaffle and sicilian cow vomit. Delicious !

The oil on the other hand, whilst.... oily.... is fine. Orangey. And a swig of water afterwards, it's actually alright.

Whilst on the subject of modern hedge witchcraft, the inulin soluble fibre came through the door. Which. Once you start reading about it is widely held to be a Great Thing. Not sure why I haven't heard about it before.

So, given I have something of a handle on the CBD, I have commenced dosing with this too now. This one, hopefully, albeit unlikely, will improve my gastro. It's supposed to be very good for you all round, gastro wise. We shall see.

In powdered form, it has no taste that I have detected so far. A sprinkle on food. Or in a drink. Done. Can't tell it's there. Uh huh. And massively improves the amount of fiber you're getting a day, which, given when I was even trying to do a hardcore fiber diet, and was practically failing everyday, should probably be at this point, a must for everyone. If you believe the science about fiber. Which sounds right. But. You have to take that shit with a pinch of salt. Remember the rabbit hole we went down with stuff like Hydrogenated oils being better than saturates, then after 40 years of ill health deciding that, oh yeah, oops, actually, the reverse is true and hydrogenated oils are actually terrible for you.

Good job science.

Science is not infallible.

Fucking up is part of the process. Although. In a better world. It doesn't take 40 years to correct a mistake, override the egos, the money and the people within the system.

People. Always the problem.

Hence my work with computers.

If you can eliminate the fleshbag from the process, absolutely do so. Fleshbags are inconsistent, error prone, sulk, lie, fuck up, and are awful to have to rely on. In fact the one thing you can rely on people to be, is unreliable. The machines are in every way a better deal.

Go with the machines.