Gone mental

Notes from my Black
2022-05-24 13:05:58 (UTC)

The hope

I feel like I’m an optimist… but I don’t think that word quite covers it. Like so many other disorders, there must be an array, a range of diagnosis. I think I’d be classified at a naive optimist.

I inherently trust people. I don’t know if this is good or bad, but it gets me through the day. Tomorrow I get disappointed or hurt or a slew of other negatives, but today, I feel content because the interaction that I filtered through my own naivety, was copacetic. Sometimes today runs into yesterday, and the brief lift I had is shot down by the realization that the smoke, the mirrors and the trap doors I didn’t see, were placed and blown to close me down.

So how to I find a way to actual reality? How do I live in real time with actual clarity? Now, I have made some progress, but I feel like I’m swimming in a heavy mud puddle. I keep pushing and pushing and planting flowers but nothing takes hold and despite seeing sunshine, I worry that it’s just a paining that happens to have a sun on it… and I’m on a sound stage somewhere being puppeted.

I could use a good mushroom salad. I need clarity.

Today I’ll be work tonight a pond pump. It may be what is keeping me up at night. I feel the vibration in my bones when I lay down. Maybe next time I’ll get some sleep… there is always next time.