Attempt #4 at a post introducing my blog… that I have no idea what to say it’s actually bout. Cause in reality it’s basically about a little bit of everything, maybe.
Well… It’s definitely not going to be about sports… or how to make money. Hell, if I understood how to do that, I wouldn’t need to rely on a measly check from the federal government every month. People think getting approved for disability is a luxury. It is and it’s not.
It’s a good thing that I no longer need to get up every day and work while falling apart both physically and mentally. It has actually slowed the aging process, I feel… and there was a period there that I was convinced I was dementing because everything was literally too much for my aforementioned in my another post, hypersensitive nervous system.
Did you know that one thing that has been connected to dementia is a lack of dopamine in the brain? Dopamine, the “reward” hormone that is required in order to do activities. Like even being able to listen to a song requires dopamine… The same hormone people with ADHD are said to lack…. which would explain why the fuck millennials are just a bunch of fucking pill poppers… Gen X and Boomers are too. It seems like people are scared to feel pain and are fine with their pill-popping stagnancy. And I do not mean that offensively; I am speaking observationally. If you feel offended then maybe you need to hear it.
Do the pills actually help anyone without side effects? Cause I feel better prescription-free. Well… as happy as I can be while living with people that clearly don’t like me… I wish I could just simply say “don’t worry, the feeling’s mutual,” but I don’t dislike them; I dislike how they dislike me. So living with that dynamic, I’m sure you can guess, is toxic as FUUUUUCK! But it’s better than being homeless.
As for the mother’s voice like nails on a chalkboard…. no, my mom does not have a high-pitched squeaky voice that sounds like nails on a chalkboard. But the sound of her voice causes the same physiological response my body has to the sound of nails scraping on a chalkboard. That same hair-raising sort of cringe that makes me want to grind my teeth. It’s nasally and demanding, and the featured monster in a lot of my memories….. aaaaand I’m spiraling again… FUCK!