Oct 7

 Despite hitting a somewhat stable patch, it has to be said that whatever is going on with me has got worse. My cruising altitude of "normal" is now really low. Everyday is a struggle to get to barely functional. Bloodshot sunken eyes are the regular every start of day now. And the exhaustion lingers around me.

Hum ho. Not entirely unexpected. A slow decline and ramping up of issues was always very possible.

In the meantime. I am trying to enjoy the little windows of time I get where I can put aside the shit. It's good to be able to sit down and play a game and get distracted enough I can only feel the game. It's good to be able to sit down in my own home and just watch TV. It's good to be able to when I want get something that tickles my fancy - as rare as that is. I kinda realised that that's probably what I should be doing. Just. Enjoying things where I can. There's no holding out to wait til it gets better. This is it. Just enjoy the bits where I can. And try not to worry about the worsening skies.

Still. As ever. You never know. I could get a brighter period.

In a brief blip of energy this week, I managed to get around and finally do some grocery shopping. It didn't kill me. Which is a good sign. I even had the spare capacity to not totally focus on the absolute necessities and spare a brain cell or two for things that would be nice to have. A couple of new pasta bowls. Some new forks.

Whilst walking around the supermarket I imagined my mom coming with me. I sometimes do this. Hey mom. Do you want come shopping with me ? Nothing serious. Just. Pootle amongst the shelves. And talk about nothing. How cheap this is. How pricey that is. How nice that is. Just. Enjoy the moment. Of low level being alive. There is part of me that is well aware that this is not how death works. It is not how any of it works. But. Very unusually. That part of me remains quiet during these times. It does not rock up and dismiss the whole thing as fantasy, nor me as being weak or stupid, that she is gone and there is no such thing as afterlives or spirits or any such bullshit. It is instead silent. Uncritical for once. And I get to imagine that my mom does indeed float somewhere around me. And we share an unspoken yet somehow connected bit of time going around the supermarket. It gives me a small amount of contentment. A tiny dose of peace. I very much like the idea that at those times, I can see how she is. How she's doing. And we can just pootle about. It feels a little less cold, a little less dark and that I am less alone. I think it also allows me to be seen just a little. That something out there sees how hard it is. And just comes along with me. Just to keep me company.

I can see why as a species we have such a strong pull towards the superstitious. The supernatural, deities and the unfounded beliefs of that around us. There is something in our conscious makeup that needs things to make sense. That wants that level of comfort. I've said it before. Raw dogging reality is hard. Tackling it without the aid of some substance abuse or other, or some ridiculous belief system is unusual. I just don't think we are well set to handle the magnitude of the universe. It blows our tiny hamster brains. There is I think a price point. Between knowledge and awareness, and misery and insanity. The more you know and the more you raw dog it. The more objective you are. You can do shit and solve things. But also. The more unhappy you become. The more insane. I think this is the same pattern that plays out for many. That line between genius and insanity. The artists who commit suicide. The smart people perpetually hopeless. There's that hilarious intro to thermodynamics and statistical mechanics -

"Ludwig Boltzman, who spent much of his life studying statistical mechanics, died in 1906, by his own hand. Paul Ehrenfest, carrying on the work, died similarly in 1933. Now it is our turn to study statistical mechanics. Perhaps it will be wise to approach the subject cautiously."

There is I think, something about poking at the edges of the universe that brings the human mind closer to insanity. It is, in a way I think, something akin to a computer hitting an out of memory error. A buffer overrun. A problem that never finishes and locks the computer. Sugar in the petrol tank. Or perhaps the mouse that strays ever deeper into a field of radioactive rocks and dies, not really knowing why.

I also think this is the underlying concept of all those stories that deal with unimaginable horrors. Cthulhu especially. Where upon learning the true awful nature of the universe - human minds turn to mush. You get a similar kick from H G Wells and War of the Worlds. In modern terms the parallel would be to Iain Banks' Outside Context Problem phenomenon. Basically. The thing outside of your understanding. That inevitably then comes and destroys you ( or at the very least disassembles you so much that what you become has little to do with what you were ). The Bible has its own variant of this. Not being able to look upon the face of god without dying. But it wraps it up in the usual layer of religious cruft of being Naughty and Unworthy and blah.

I think all these things hazily mirror the truth that underpins us all. All these concepts are scratching at the unspoken itch, trying to describe the same phenomenon. Which is that there is a point where we cannot go past. A limit. And beyond it. We are destroyed. But also. It is a point we are programmed to try to reach towards. The very nature of figuring things out and living. There is an inevitability of progression there. That finishes with an unhappy ending the more we climb that ladder. We have a tragic arc.

Of course. That's just one case. For the most part. People live in the shallower waters. And never get to swim in the deep and get eaten by what lurks there. And for them. All those concepts and ideas are strange.

But I think simpler than all of that it boils down to just one thing that everyone experiences. The loss of innocence. The gaining of knowledge means the losing of innocence in that area. It is both a blessing and a curse. And that experience I think repeats itself across a hundred stories and themes. And indeed is the underlying measure of our competence, happiness and sanity. The Wizard of Oz being all powerful and your protector and the person that will always keep everything peaceful and safe. And the knowledge that there is no such thing. Just a curtain. And all of that weight of peace, and repelling the horror is now your responsibility. Welcome to growing up. Welcome to being an adult.

There are varying levels of adult. To the point that the word adult is no longer sufficient.

There are varying levels of knowledge. Ever decreasing levels of innocence. And with each step comes more weight. More responsibility. More despondency.

And so we get to some of the concepts of nihilism. Existentialism. And the unending blur between the two points on the same scale. Believe in your own fairies. Or raw dog the hopelessness of the universe.

In the face of such cosmic horrors.

Perhaps it is better to just have a cup of tea. And a cake. And enjoy the moment.

Tea. Is constant. As it turns out.

A happy warm glow that fills you up everytime you take a sip.