The documenting of NOW
I would like today to include some good blogging. I have so many thoughts running through my head. My wants sadly, seldome get satisfied this way. Distractions and mood shifts get in the way. I don’t like writing about failure or depression. I’m sick. On day X of many. I’m not quite sure how many… Read More »

The documenting of NOW

I would like today to include some good blogging. I have so many thoughts running through my head. My wants sadly, seldome get satisfied this way. Distractions and mood shifts get in the way. I don’t like writing about failure or depression.

I’m sick. On day X of many. I’m not quite sure how many days it’s been since I have been able to poo but it’s at least two weeks, perhaps longer. my body is fighting back as it interact tries whatever it can to internally digest and process the backlog of food it can’t seem to throw out.

My medication dehydrated me and my diet is non fibor so it mostly stats inside floating around. Headaches cone and go. I belch a lot with flourful exhales of vapourused meals from days ago

Yesterday I ate nothing. It was a sleep day. Even trying to eat seemed hard, as if the guards were stoping all entries at the mouth. Sorry .. we’re full today. Try again tomorrow

It’s now tomorrow and I’ve eaten half a big bar of chocolate which I know is bad for constipation but it’s also here where I can grab it, and it helps calm the flavours still burping up a variety of tastes

I have convinced myself the short walk into town is actually a long walk and with no food coming in, it will be too exhausting to tackle today to pick up some stool softener and exlax.

My mind flips between thinking this is serious, and could actually be quite dangerous, and convincing myself it’s fine and will self correct eventually. I do not like online to confirm either outcome. Being in limbo means I don’t have to make any choices.

In other words, I do nothing and hope it goes away, or new options appear. My life philosophy

On days like this, in between one sleep cycle to the next, I look around and see myself from a third perspective. I see how crazy I must seem. Living 24 hours a day in a single room among garbage, andold food and containers of pee.

It’s not just a mess, but a crazy mess. The kind people are and judge you by. The kind of mess you’d have to be crazy to out up with.

In my head, I’m on a fine line between crazy and understanding. Very few of my inconveniences are actual problems. I’m just sieving until other options present themselves… But I really do need to pay attention to this health issue or it might be the one that gets me.

I keep thinking it just can’t go on. Today must be the one that breaks through. It rightfully should have been last week.

Indeed more greens or something in my diet it’s gotten worse this year. I’m eating more bagels and lunch meat that anything else because the microwave is downstairs.

I think this may be the perfect day to call this number and ask for mental health assistance. The beginning of a life changing process that might even include so e financial support. The other half of my brain agrees. It won’t happen. I can’t explain my. I pre guess how it will go based on similar experiences. My need to not be a bother takes over and instead of describing all this craziness in my head, I say it’s all fine, sorry for bothering you, and hang up. I use my imaginary need to do this in person as an excuse to not make the call.

This is year three of not making that call. I lost my psychiatrist and Adderall prescription over two years ago now and have gone down hill.

Instead of change I adapt. I always live in the now and whatever this is, I do it till tomorrow or other options present themselves. I float down the current. It makes the desicions

It’s 8am. I woke up a lot because my usual water intake has been reduced. I drink and pee in smaller increments. Hopefully eating smaller bites today may push the load to the wall.

I think I may go read some horror stories of what possible outcomes are possible if I go another day without shit.

End of part 1.

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