My trip out of town lasted far longer than I had expected. I had planned to be away for only part of one day, but it ended up being nearly three full days, with not only comfortable but nearly opulent facilities to sleep, eat and relax. Even though some negatives emerged from that little vacation, I have no regrets about any of it, because, while I was out of town, spending much of my day sitting in a hotel room drinking superb coffee and gazing out the large window, I was alive. Not felt alive, but was alive, same as I had been dead before I left on the trip and am merely comatose now.
Before I get to the negatives, let me give you the biggest positive. You already know that I experience brain fog on a daily basis and the episodes are sometimes prolonged. Well, during those three days out of town, I didn’t have even a split-second of brain fog, or even a hint of almost any mental health issues whatsoever. The only issue was a tiny bit of avolition when I thought about walking to the nearest hairdresser’s to have my hair cut before I took a shower, but the hair salon was too close to take a city bus or taxi there and just barely too far to walk, so I didn’t get my hair cut. And here’s the big one: I had forgotten to bring my medication! Yes, boyz ‘n’ gorillas, I spent three days not taking any meds whatsoever, including my psych meds, and felt perfectly healthy in every way. After 23 years as a high-functioning and accurately self-observant mental patient, I can be fairly sure when I’m not having any symptoms, and I certainly notice when other people are reacting to seeing them. Nothing whatsoever like that happened during those three days.
About two hours after I had returned to this apartment, however, I began to have brain fog again. I resumed taking all medication, even taking higher booster doses of the psych meds in order to build the serum levels back up, and the brain fog has intermittently abated since then. Something about my normal living environment is the real cause of my mental problems. Except that I am stuck in this environment because I lack the funds to escape, so I’m stuck being mentally ill when it seems that all I’d need to do in order to be mentally healthy is relocate somewhere outside the Greater Toronto Area and find a private residence I don’t have to share with anyone. The latter is the real problem, because I’ve done research on rents throughout the Province of Ontario, and a private apartment would be unaffordable for me absolutely anywhere except in the farthest reaches of Northern Ontario, where there is no public transit to speak of and you have to drive three hours to the grocery store, which I can’t do. So I’m stuck here being sick. Ever heard of a sick building? I live in what is personally for me a sick city, sharing a sick apartment with sick roommates.
My initial plan upon returning was to turn my back on my old life and just wait patiently until I could escape again for a few days. The plan was to save up money until Christmas Day by simply not spending money on anything I didn’t absolutely have to spend money on, including more than minimally expensive food. But I’m also experiencing a kind of equanimous lassitude about life in general. I have no problem just sitting at my desk, staring passively into space without even using this computer–which is the main reason I’ve toned my blogging activities down to one post a day. Although I am absolutely not “depressed” (which is in many cases an over-abused excuse to prescribe antidepressants), I also feel very little motivation to do anything. When Christmas Day rolls around, it’s doubtful that I’ll have the motivation to walk to the bus station for the bus out of town.
At its peak, my now two-week-old blog had 138 views in one day. Yesterday it had 21. That doesn’t bother me because nothing bothers me. But I am happy that those who really do have an interest in reading what I have to say, are continuing to do so, and I intend to stay in touch with you as long as I’m able. So see you tomorrow.