Well, it’s difficult to get online and not express myself honestly. I don’t know how this will turn out long-term on days like the day I’m writing this where I’ve felt like shit physically, and now mentally, for long enough to where it makes doing much of anything difficult. I do the best I can to express positivity elsewhere. I guess building “The Story,” as I learned with “Novel 01,” means progressing through “Novel 02” and beyond.
Spoilers?: Minor [long-term planning details]
I don’t really know how I’ll be able to get to the point of writing “The Story.”
Everything I do in life seems to be putting me further back. Physical therapy from two days ago has ravaged my health. My hands were shaking through most of the day and my spine has hurt. My soul hurts from realizing that, as I talked about in this episode, Monday’s appointment didn’t even give me more than 5 minutes with the doctor. I couldn’t ask about what he thought about any tailbone chiropracy and it wasn’t because I had forgotten. The doctor could not spare the time to allow me the chance to answer any questions and when I had interrupted his plans, he started to become short with me, which I quietly shut up to because I had previously signed his document stating that if I became unruly that he could refuse me service.
So I’m physically stuck here in this body that’s becoming decrepit and frail.
In my dreams, I am able to do quite a lot, and in my waking imagination, I am still able to do things like hold power tools to create objects that can help me exist a more comfortable lifestyle, but realistically, I can barely do much of anything whatsoever. The thing that’s most comfortable for me, sitting still here at my writing desk, is not what my physical therapist advises, but what he advises is doing exercises that end up decreasing my mobility and overall health if done excessively. It’s through this thought process that I found myself at the end of the livestream, nearly in tears, and really, not feeling like doing much more in Minecraft.
I’m not really sure what to do long-term.
I have another physical therapy appointment in four days. That should give my body enough time to recover, but I’m feeling significantly more broken now compared to before physical therapy two days ago. I trust him well enough, since he has – unlike other doctors [and I asked if he considered himself a doctor, to which he said no, even though he has the credentials to be one, only out of not wanting to be the doctor to save a patient on an airplane] he has looked me in the eyes and given me the time of day to talk with me about my physical health, and has worked with me, but, I don’t know.
I don’t like livestreaming when I’m not feeling like being somewhat positive.
When I dredge through my thoughts, live, it can get weird.
It gets too heavy for people and I’m sure that’s a downer. I just express myself honestly, and I suppose I want to create an environment where others can feel that way, too, but when I think too much about it, it becomes a weird thing. I don’t feel like writing much more today, and I’ve passed my 500-word minimum word count for today, so I’ll end it with the next sentence.
I don’t know if tomorrow will be better, but I did cancel PT so I won’t hurt there.
|Sources: The Story’s Imaginarium.|
|Inspirations: Writing about talking about my life.|
|Related: Essays helping build “Novel 02.” This novel is formally called “A Story About Self-Confidence: Something About Anxiety,” and is a sequel to “Novel 01,” which is part of the Sammohini Arc of “The Story.” Sober Living essays and Tripping On [The American Healthcare System] chapters.|
|Written On: 2021 January 21 [11:11111pm to 11:26pm]|
|Last Edited: 2021 January 21 [First draft; final draft for the Internet.]|