Waffling in THREE dimensions.

Saturday, August 04, 2007


I am glad I decided to reduce the dosage a few months ago. Thankfully, I'm not having withdrawals. But it's not a pleasant experience by any stretch. Please bare with me through the transition.
I have noticed a few fundamental changes in my personality. I am significantly more grouchy and very irritable. In the past I was grumpy from when I awoke for a time, usually diminishing shortly after breakfast or brunch or whatever. My mind is a lot more sparse as well. Writing this is hard, the sentences don't..flow. I grasp for words that aren't there. It's frustrating. I get frustrated a lot easier too. Swearing a lot more, without excuse, but without regret since I've read this. I feel retarded writing right now. I can't spell as well either. Really snippy too. Or is it snappy? I imagine that part of it is kind of like quitting smoking, where they get all irritable and whatever. I can pretend I understand that experience. I'm also not funny, saying stupid comments under my breath and such. I'm sometimes asked to repeat them louder, thinking I was speaking to them, and perhaps I was, but, man, are they stupid. My social skills, which were never incredible, feel greatly diminished. Perhaps much of this is in my head. I can't be sure. I have no idea what skills I have retained, it seems blogging isn't one of them though. I'm not as tired as I thought I would be. Grumpy though. My punctuation is all wonky, I think. I'm getting stalled, more often than I've remembered in the past. What was I doing? It escapes me so often now. It's frustrating.
So frustrating. I used to be able to do all these things! And now what? A recent text message tried to bolster my confidences:

You could do anything you wanted to with writting [sic]. So and english major would be a smart move and all schools offer that.. You are great at science and math. Both have great potential. You remember everything. Your [sic] creative. You could totally get a job with a video game developenent [sic] degree. Your [sic] limitations are like cleaning and dishes.

I feel like an ass for noting all the errors which are not such in that medium. I don't feel like I could do anything of those things right now. The limitations about dishes are still true, I have to clean the kitchen today, so...
It's a rock and hard place. I am either this Jekyll and Hyde abomination through doping or a man-child layman.
Either way, I don't like who I've become.

God, I hope it's not genetic. What does it matter? I'd make a horrible parent like this. Cursed thoughts, leave me!

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