Difference between revisions of "Sadtober"

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Notes for a back chracter, each note in preference.
 
==Idea / fiction==
 
  
Enter a username and an email address, and click the "by email" button. Note you need $wgEnableEmail=true or else the sysop must pick a password and send it to the user.
 
The account will be created with a random password which is then emailed to the given address (as with the "forgot password" feature). The user will be requested to change password at first login; when he does this, his e-mail address will also be marked as confirmed.
 
 
 
==1==
 
 
It was just my own crisis. The morning I waited for my wife to rise, I shouldn't have done it, I should have leaped into action with the children although that isn't fair on her. She has a cold, has menopause, has just had a face infection, her husband is depressed, she has had back surgery, her best friend has had a stroke, she is morphine, valium, neurontin, and other things too, we both smoke that awful skunk. It wouldn't be fair almost to dash out with the boys, not that I could. I have a Tramadol withdrawal, that is like a cold, and I only took it a few days this week, to deal with the pain of my head injury. I wasn't prescribed it, but we have plenty Tramadol under the bed. I should be worried about valium habits, morphine habits, I have been presribed valium, and I ate them up quite quickly, two a day, especially when I smoked that awful skunk. I take 2 Citalopram daily too, I should have not taken 2 valium last Sunday, after my head injury. I now have to wait all month, to see if I will get better, or of any of it will get better. Will anybody get better. My mouth feels like closing, I feel like muttering, today I felt like running away for all of the month of Sadtober, it felt like a foregone conclusion, a starting point and ending point, I just kept quiet in the end.
 
 
[[User:Pilgrim of Crisis|Pilgrim of Crisis]] ([[User talk:Pilgrim of Crisis|talk]]) 13:45, 2 October 2017 (MDT)
 
 
==2r==
 
 
When I began managing the shop, one of the first things I thought about were the problems that consistently occurred on Monday mornings. It always seemed to be, although it might not have really been, but it seemed to be that Monday mornings were a fractious and dangerous time, which could set the tone for a whole week. I started being in the shop on Monday mornings, an hour or more before it opened. My wife said this was good role modelling for the staff. I made sure the week started well, and then any hand over went smoothly. I waited around all the morning making sure everybody was happy, and that any communication difficulties were sorted kindly.
 
 
As if to prove that I had forgotten this aspect of my work, I made this [[Monday]] morning a hell for so many others, especially my business partner, by overreacting, panicking in sadness, writing angry messages, engaging in fighting, you know all what else, an awful scene of attrition. When you wake some days you don't even know how fragile you are. I was like Godzilla with a sore head, knocking my body off the buildings, and so unhappy with myself. I had ten staples in my head, and I had forgotten they were being removed that afternoon. The procedure was painful, but I sat through it, I have become not attracted to pain, but in a special place of my own where pain is quite acceptable. I left the surgery and felt the cold air, now rushing into my skull. My head didn't like it. Being held together with staples last week, my head was in one manner tied together, held in place. Now the two sides of my head, split by my fall, were like fingers gripping to hold a body to a rock shelf.
 
 
I collapsed straight to bed for an hour, I think I was in shock, I was so cold. I wooke up, and my wife was also rising, both of us threatening to pick the children up from school. I went to the pick up and then later, offered to play football in the cold, which I did, fprgetting that my head was open. I had smoked some of the godawful skunk, but the shock of kicking the ball hurt my head, and so I returned home to take Tramadol. That night I took morphone, too, but could not sleep. I rose late in the night and drank a can of beer, smoked heavily of the the awful skunk, and returned to bed to listen to a podcast about Catalan independence. Feeling mad after 40 minutes, I rose again, drank another can of lager, and smoked much more of the godawful skunk. I returned to bed, but this happened again. Finally I listened to the audiobook of [[Frankenstein]], I don't think that was an accident.
 
 
[[User:Really Reckless|Really Reckless]] ([[User talk:Really Reckless|talk]]) 13:22, 4 October 2017 (MDT)
 
 
==3==
 
 
I am not jealous of other couples, of other people, by all means they have their lives and I have mine, and all these entail. But increasingly, I see that we are both ill. My wife is on so many painkillers, and the godawful skunk too, but we live with the prospect of her spending whole days, many hours at the very least, in bed. "I don't want this to be my life," she says, and for so many years, I didn't even realise it was my life too. If you come home from work, or from any trip, and don't immediately have to lie down for two hours, and spend those hours moaning in pain, taking valium, morphine, neurontin, and so forth, you might not be fully aware of our situation. My situation. Our situation.
 
 
Not sleeping, I was a wreck in the morning, and yet I still did good work, I am minutes away from finishing a book; by which I mean the final. final edit before typesetting and printing begin. It's been two years, but now we are very near to having before us a real life copy of [[How To Do Privacy in the 21st Century]], my new work. Other than that, my head was most exposed today, and I should have been resting, but I was not able to. In fact I seem to have had a mad burst of work today, and in the evening, wife and I visited a new local diner, a cheap and good Carribean place. She was ill and distracted, but we were out, and that was that.
 
 
We returned home and watched the first half an hour of Powell and Pressburger's 1944 film A Canterbury Tale. Thereafter I did what I do best, which is drinking beer and cleaning the kitchen, while smoking the godawful green skunk. My mood had been kindly stabilised by the women in my life, my wife, my business partner and my sister. I owe everything to everybody, still.
 
 
[[User:Really Reckless|Really Reckless]] ([[User talk:Really Reckless|talk]]) 13:30, 4 October 2017 (MDT)
 
 
==4==
 
 
A person is supposed to be on [[Citalopram]] for six weeks, and then the person can feel better perhaps. This is like a magical operation, because if the roots of the feeling are not purged, then what is the point of taking drugs. I wonder today of any amount of drugs could get me back to work. I am not sure if the problem is being able to work, it is being hurt at work. That is, when I think back to starting this work, starting this business, being in this business, that is what I have done to myself. However work has eneded up this year, however it has panned out, I have been hurt. Even if it is a little hurt on a daily basis, or a significant hurt that has kept me off work for days, or longer, it's hurt.
 
 
It isn't anyone, it's me. The thought of going into that situation again, when I am guarantted to be hurt, this can explain why I am in bed, this can explain why I am physically dropped at the thought of being at work. I am not sure if I did any work today, or what was happening. I would have finished my book, I expect, I had to finish the book today.
 
 
The new doctor had my report from Accident and Emergency and she asked me that drink was involved and I said it was. She then asked which level of bevvy merchant I was, whether merchandising at this level was a problem and I told her it was not. This was an isolated incident, I told her. I was not wrong in saying that my head injury and the drinking of alcohol combined as they were, were the basis of an isolated incident. The fact is that I drink plenty all of the time, but I never ave head injuries. In this sense the accident, if that is what it was, was elective.
 
 
What happens with Citalopram, she said, is that it can and will take six weeks to work. Then we take it for six months. Then and ony then do we ask if we are feeling all right and if we are feeling all right we then removed the Citalopram very slowly indeed, until we are taking no Citalopram but are in fact happy. Nobody mentions work. Nobody mentions self harm. We all think about the Citalopram and how effective that is going to be. I take 20mg, but it will take three times that, it will take three times the amount of death in my head to allow me to take that hurt from work, any more.
 
 
==5==
 
 
Despite it all, and disproving my medical record, and without damaging my head, carried on drinking beer and then wine, and smoking the godawful in godawful amounts, binge smoking, chain smoking, and did not take [[Citalopram]] but worked on my website as I drank, and even wrote some drunk emails, that is embarrassing, but I wrote drunk emails, it takes so long to do, to write a drunk email, about half an hour per email, and they are usually asa short as I can make em.
 
 
==Friday==
 
werty
 
==7==
 
 
Ill health, recovery, excessive drinking alcohol, depression, were you to sleep an extra hour for each of these needs, you would meet the needs of these needs by staying in bed and sleeping, or acting out the nearest equivalent, for an extra five hours. That is no reason, but a retrospective look back at the day, when I rose at 2PM, these may have been the causes. I was of no use to the family, my wife told me so because she needs to recover too, and she was in such extreme pain, and also needed sleep.
 
 
The equivalent of sleep is what people that are depressed, if there is such a thing, know about. I am lying in bed for reasons of sensory deprivation. I can hear what is going on, and I can feel the covers, a deep warmth that is, with my limbs perfectly arranged so I am not aware of them. I am speaking to no one, I am waiting for sleep, I am having the odd lucid and unpleasant dream, quite a few are about my head injury.
 
 
I took the Citalopram later in the day, and smoked some of the godawful skunk. The family dressed up smartly and went to a 50th birthday party. At the party I made an effort, I listened to a man who was a linguistics teacher, he was supposed to be according to everybody that was there, and according to himself, the most famous professor of linguistics in the world, or at leasat one of them. He showed absolutely no interest in listening to me, but was engaging and clearly intelligent in telling me his entire life story, I listened to the whole life story. I accepted that my life story may not be so grand, but I did wait ofr my turn to speak, although it didn't come. I met a friend afrom school, for some reason he was in Edinburgh. He told me how much he loved morphine, how much he enjoyed sucking the capsules, as it gave a fonder slower release. I smoked more godawful when I arrived home, and took half a [[diazepam]] in order to watch a little of the old Japanese film [[Godzilla]], and the newer Italian film, [[City of the Living Dead]]. Neither did much for me, because I was sinking so fast, and I listened to piano excersises omn my smart phone until my wife arrived and I dropped away.
 
 
[[User:They Self|They Self]] ([[User talk:They Self|talk]]) 05:52, 8 October 2017 (MDT)
 
 
==8==
 

Latest revision as of 12:18, 25 October 2017