update: i successfully got over the Decreases Hump this morning; it was extremely exhilarating (and weirdly unexpectedly empowering???); and now i kind of feel like i just want to do increasingly complicated knitting things forever…

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update: i successfully got over the Decreases Hump this morning; it was extremely exhilarating (and weirdly unexpectedly empowering???); and now i kind of feel like i just want to do increasingly complicated knitting things forever…
Devin Leonardi American, 1981–2014
Two Friends on the Shore of Long Island, 2009 Acrylic on paper
also not to go on, but it is kind of hilarious to me that my increased usage of tumblr is an indication that my depression is IMPROVING
i have a superpower
i take this little pill, 36mg concerta, and wait 20 to 30 minutes. at that point, spoons fall from the sky in a barrage of silver ability. they pile up at my feet, begging to be stuffed into my pockets,and for three hours i am invincible. i can run errands. i can clean my apartment. i can even sleep or play video games if those are the doors i choose to open and wedge in place with a few spoons. i can draw and draw and draw.
i can even--are you ready for this?
i can even make phone calls. i’m immune to PHONE CALLS.
after the three or so hours are over, the rain of spoons cuts out, but i still have some left in my pockets, and i can use them up throughout the day. helplessly gazing at a pile of laundry becomes “hey, we should wash that” without any transformative “poof” noise whatsoever.
and lo, the shit was washed!
then the spoony magic fades, and i’m mortal again, but happily glowing with accomplishment as i with great ceremony toss my final magic spoon into the air. it never comes down.
well, that’s not true. i’ll take another pill tomorrow and then i’ll see it again, and it’ll have brought friends.
this is a fucking superpower. if you don’t believe me, i cordially invite you to become me, unmedicated, for a couple decades, and share my fairly modest life goals. have fun staring at the brick wall with the small dent from my head ramming into it again and again while i draw a door right next to you and slip right through.
muggles.
tbh i'm trying not to look it in the eye lest it evanesce but the degree of like. baseline mildly-optimistic openness to pleasure and satisfaction i've been experiencing for the last, idk, couple of weeks-ish now is. really confusing and really wonderful to me—!
like by all rights you'd think. it's nighttime out these days by 4-something. my sleep schedule is totally gefuckt so i'm getting only a tiny percentage of the already-tiny handful of hours of sunlight available. nothing abt the condition of my life (humiliating, metaphorically oppressive) or my country (fascist, literally oppressive) has materially changed for the better.
however. i have Boots and some Brightly Colored Clothing; and i've been going for a multi-mile walk more days than not, even in the dark; and i've been doing [redacted little Creative Project i will probably post about after the holidays if i remember]; and it turns out. adding even this tiny an amount of creativity and physicality and frivolity to my enclosure does so so much to improve things????
now if i could only fix my horrendous sleep ""schedule"" without pulling an all-nighter to do it we'd be golden (or at least bronze)
originally this post was going to be like 'do you ever just get swamped by an enormous wave of prickly misery out of nowhere' but of course the reality is that it isn't in fact out of nowhere
like fundamentally i'm living existing with enormous ambient levels of depression and disempowerment that i'm just, like, too disconnected from myself to actively register most of the time, and the straw that broke the camel's back tonight was having wanted to get out of the house and run an errand and having instead had my late-afternoon-into-early-evening inexorably devolve into getting roped in as an accessory to my dad's early dinner/tv watching and knowing my tomorrow was already equally locked up in similar being-an-accessory plans of a different flavor—on one level not an especially big deal but on another i have! no! autonomy! in either the big things or the little ones! and it's no wonder that getting my face rubbed in it feels Bad and triggered a rapid descent into sullen irritable misery!
just sitting with my warm bouillotte of catte who has clambered up into my lap to look out over the room as if from pride rock and feeling like. quietly appreciative of the small good things in my life
like if you have a cat's confiding trust and a good bitter-warming cup of strong milky coffee and a gratifyingly nubbly grid fleece hoodie you stuck a pride pin on so now it's your gender armor and a good group of little sensitive thoughtful beloved internet people in your phone and all the many varied colors and moods of the english language and the vast sky—