I don't actually remember November 2008, but I confess to liking the things I posted back then. I wonder what the difference was -- why was I more interesting and a better writer at that particular time?
Anyway, the Reposts continue!
I spent about 430 seconds pondering. Ponder, ponder, ponder. That's pretty impressive for me these days, as my attention span seems to have been ably kimbo-sliced.
I am weaning myself off of the only antidepressant that has ever been magic to my dour mood. Cymbalta. Prescribed as an adjunct pain medication, it really worked wonders for me. The Lesser Pains were indeed helped, but wayyyyy more impressive was that weird, weird sound that accosted my ears about 5 days after the first dose.
Laughter.
I actually did say, "What is that sound?" Fred almost wept with relief and La Bonne et Belle Bianca promptly began plotting little plots to steal the medication and replace it with saltpeter.*
[*About saltpeter, the good Wikipedia tells us:
Potassium nitrate is a chemical compound with the chemical formula KNO3. A naturally occurring mineral source of nitrogen, KNO3 constitutes a critical oxidizing component of black powder/gunpowder. In the past it was also used for several kinds of burning fuses, including slow matches. Potassium nitrate readily precipitates from mixtures of salts, and decomposing urine was the main commercial source of the nitrate ion, through various means, from the Late Middle Ages and Early Modern era through the 19th century.
Its common names include saltpetre (saltpeter in American English), from Medieval Latin sal petræ: "stone salt" or possibly "Salt of Petra", nitrate of potash, and nitre (American niter). For specific information about the naturally occurring mineral, see niter. The name Peru saltpetre or Chile saltpetre (American "Peru saltpeter" or "Chile saltpeter") is applied to sodium nitrate, a similar nitrogen compound that is also used in explosives and fertilizers. The major problem of using the cheaper sodium nitrate in gunpowder is its tendency to go damp.]
Of course, Bianca had some odd notion of the fabled death-to-potency capacity of saltpeter, sort of an extrapolation of "going damp." [Ewww, that doesn't quite work, does it. Ewww.] But then, this is just another example of why we so love La Bonne et Belle Dame Sans Merci -- also why we like to keep her within our sights at all times. Have I ever extolled the virtues of the Nanny Cam, carefully inserted into "the cans of half-eaten Libby's Vienna Sausage stuffed in the serpentine bottom drawer of a 16th century French armoire -- beautifully restored as a well-stocked wet bar"? No? Well, put that on the lists of fascinating future blog posts! (I confess that the link to "Anacoluthe" is probably my most-linked production; I love that post; I find that it quite competently explains the nuances of the pandemic economic disaster -- from which we have yet to be truly delivered. {Thank you, BushWad.})
Are you still with me?
So, as I too-rapidly wean myself off this very effective medication that I can no longer afford, I am battling the return of The Minor Aches and The Lesser Pains. No biggie, pain is a constant. True, I am not usually brought to the proverbial edge, sobbing that "I can't do it..." or crying out in full pathos "Why does everything have to be so hard?"
The pain battle will be ongoing. The battle against depression, though? I can't do it... Why does everything have to be so hard?
Ha! This Conflict of the Neurotransmitters, Uptoken and Retooked, looks to be a very hard and enduring contest.
Against both physical and psychic pain, my best weapon doesn't come from pills, tablets, or fizzing seltzers. It comes from the knife's edge of hyperfocus and a heightened relaxation response, both the result of many years of biofeedback, now expertly practiced sans wires, books, helpmates, or monitors.
And, lo! It turns out that rereading some of my blogposts is one touchstone that launches me into hours of monotonous orbits, as I microprocess the meaning of words, as I enjoy linguistic histories, and lather up from head-to-fucked-up-toe in my many absurdities.
I don't know if my posts ever help you, My Beloved Readers, to leave it all behind, to enjoy an anachronistic Calgon moment, but that's the rationale behind my recent penchant for reposting.
This one? Easy enough to decipher. The videos easy enough to people, to enter, to mentally fly, jump, twist, and lightly land. It's a dream of having legs that work, having a body that remembers.
Anyway, the Reposts continue!
I spent about 430 seconds pondering. Ponder, ponder, ponder. That's pretty impressive for me these days, as my attention span seems to have been ably kimbo-sliced.
I am weaning myself off of the only antidepressant that has ever been magic to my dour mood. Cymbalta. Prescribed as an adjunct pain medication, it really worked wonders for me. The Lesser Pains were indeed helped, but wayyyyy more impressive was that weird, weird sound that accosted my ears about 5 days after the first dose.
Laughter.
I actually did say, "What is that sound?" Fred almost wept with relief and La Bonne et Belle Bianca promptly began plotting little plots to steal the medication and replace it with saltpeter.*
[*About saltpeter, the good Wikipedia tells us:
Potassium nitrate is a chemical compound with the chemical formula KNO3. A naturally occurring mineral source of nitrogen, KNO3 constitutes a critical oxidizing component of black powder/gunpowder. In the past it was also used for several kinds of burning fuses, including slow matches. Potassium nitrate readily precipitates from mixtures of salts, and decomposing urine was the main commercial source of the nitrate ion, through various means, from the Late Middle Ages and Early Modern era through the 19th century.
Its common names include saltpetre (saltpeter in American English), from Medieval Latin sal petræ: "stone salt" or possibly "Salt of Petra", nitrate of potash, and nitre (American niter). For specific information about the naturally occurring mineral, see niter. The name Peru saltpetre or Chile saltpetre (American "Peru saltpeter" or "Chile saltpeter") is applied to sodium nitrate, a similar nitrogen compound that is also used in explosives and fertilizers. The major problem of using the cheaper sodium nitrate in gunpowder is its tendency to go damp.]
Of course, Bianca had some odd notion of the fabled death-to-potency capacity of saltpeter, sort of an extrapolation of "going damp." [Ewww, that doesn't quite work, does it. Ewww.] But then, this is just another example of why we so love La Bonne et Belle Dame Sans Merci -- also why we like to keep her within our sights at all times. Have I ever extolled the virtues of the Nanny Cam, carefully inserted into "the cans of half-eaten Libby's Vienna Sausage stuffed in the serpentine bottom drawer of a 16th century French armoire -- beautifully restored as a well-stocked wet bar"? No? Well, put that on the lists of fascinating future blog posts! (I confess that the link to "Anacoluthe" is probably my most-linked production; I love that post; I find that it quite competently explains the nuances of the pandemic economic disaster -- from which we have yet to be truly delivered. {Thank you, BushWad.})
Are you still with me?
So, as I too-rapidly wean myself off this very effective medication that I can no longer afford, I am battling the return of The Minor Aches and The Lesser Pains. No biggie, pain is a constant. True, I am not usually brought to the proverbial edge, sobbing that "I can't do it..." or crying out in full pathos "Why does everything have to be so hard?"
The pain battle will be ongoing. The battle against depression, though? I can't do it... Why does everything have to be so hard?
Ha! This Conflict of the Neurotransmitters, Uptoken and Retooked, looks to be a very hard and enduring contest.
Against both physical and psychic pain, my best weapon doesn't come from pills, tablets, or fizzing seltzers. It comes from the knife's edge of hyperfocus and a heightened relaxation response, both the result of many years of biofeedback, now expertly practiced sans wires, books, helpmates, or monitors.
And, lo! It turns out that rereading some of my blogposts is one touchstone that launches me into hours of monotonous orbits, as I microprocess the meaning of words, as I enjoy linguistic histories, and lather up from head-to-fucked-up-toe in my many absurdities.
I don't know if my posts ever help you, My Beloved Readers, to leave it all behind, to enjoy an anachronistic Calgon moment, but that's the rationale behind my recent penchant for reposting.
This one? Easy enough to decipher. The videos easy enough to people, to enter, to mentally fly, jump, twist, and lightly land. It's a dream of having legs that work, having a body that remembers.
I dream in parkour and free running.
"Silk, or soie in French, is the strongest natural fiber."*
I wake at the catch of gulping sound that is my laughter.
Late at night, when I cannot sleep, and am mentally weak,
I watch parkour videos and cry.
The music that I play -- preferring my picks to theirs -- is very, very loud,
so in my fashion I twitch and rock. I plant my feet, and roll. (In my fashion.)
It surely doesn't belong to me,the blue grey knots,
but I don't think they mind me watching, tetanus-toed.
If they do, there are some shadows to hide in,
over there.
It's as smooth as silk isn't, and as dependent on
texture for its beauty. Raw silk.
"Silk, or soie in French, is the strongest natural fiber."*
I wake at the catch of gulping sound that is my laughter.
Late at night, when I cannot sleep, and am mentally weak,
I watch parkour videos and cry.
The music that I play -- preferring my picks to theirs -- is very, very loud,
so in my fashion I twitch and rock. I plant my feet, and roll. (In my fashion.)
It surely doesn't belong to me,the blue grey knots,
but I don't think they mind me watching, tetanus-toed.
If they do, there are some shadows to hide in,
over there.
It's as smooth as silk isn't, and as dependent on
texture for its beauty. Raw silk.
Traces, traceurs, traceuses.
*"A steel filament of the same diameter as silk will break before a filament of silk."
