I don't know what's up.
I really don't. Lately, my skin feels like bugs are crawling all over me. Not just that, biting me. Sharp pinpricks here and there. The shit is maddening, and I find myself scratching and striking where I think the bugs are biting me. I wonder what is causing this. Is it the drugs that I'm on, or is there a nervous condition developing inside of me? I check my bed for bugs, my sheets, my clothes and can find none. Still, I feel them in my hair, on my skin, down my legs. I think to myself, fuck it then, if I can't see them to do anything about them, I'll just ignore them. I find this impossible though. When I try to sleep, I feel them crawl quickly up my legs, causing me to flinch involuntarily, rousing me from falling to sleep.
I thought about it. Could there be bugs in the room? I do a thorough search, and found not a one. Later in the day, the pinpricks multiplied up and down my arms and legs until the suffering turned into constellations of pinpricks all up and down my body and face. I grabbed a hair brush and scrubbed my skin to address the itching, but no matter how I try, I cannot overcome the insanity. I thought that I was going to go fool crazy! The itching was so torturous that I almost broke out in tears. This could not be the work of bugs, or I would be seething with them. I layed across my bed, rolling around to try to ease the suffering, but nothing worked. I wanted to contact Dr. A and tell him that I had an emergency, but he is on vacation this week.
Then, the answer came to me. I will go downstairs and buy a quart of vodka and drink. Drink until the body grew numb and the itching fell away in a drunken stupor. I betcha I'll be able to fall asleep after that. As I got up and got dressed to leave for the liquor store, my mind still continued to churn on my predicament. What would alcohol do? Alcohol will do what it does, numb the pain. I envisioned every nerve ending in my body bursting over and over again. The nerves, carrying pain information, was somehow being affected by something. I didn't know what it could be. Maybe a food allergy developing in my old age?
Alcohol would numb the pain. Well, if alcohol numbs pain, wouldn't a Tylenol do the same? Pop a painkiller and see what happens. If it doesn't work, run for the hooch. I go through my cabinets, and find a bottle of Extra Strength Tylenol and dropped two with a lot of water. I then climbed into bed and went into the fetal position and steadied myself. I refused to scratch any area on my body, no matter the suffering. I clenched my face and my eyes, straining against this unusual malady. Almost in no time, the constellation of pinpricks began dying off. Shrinking in fact, until they were the occasional prick here and there. I believe that they all went away, because I drifted off to sleep.
I had one of my blackout sleeps. I've noticed that when I can't sleep, or when I sleep for only two or three hours a day, my body will go on and on, until it can go no more. Suddenly, it's lights out, and I get incredibly drowsy. So drowsy that I can fall asleep sitting up in my chair. I call this 'blackout sleep', because I literally black out, and I'll sleep for eight to ten hours like the dead. No dreams, nothing but sheer blackness. As if my Black ass was dropped head first into a black hole. When I awake I've lost all track of time. I look at the window and the sun has risen. It must be Wednesday. I look at the clock and it's Seven O'clock PM, no the sun is going down, it's Tuesday! What the fuck? I turn on the computer to confirm the actual day and time and shake my head. I am out of sync.
I'm up again. Up all night. I do email. I do videos, and I do the play. Astonish- ingly, without even much thought, I begin typing and the characters come to life. It's somewhat easy because the play is largely based on my life, so it's much more of a confessional than fiction. I look for humor in this slice of my life, but I can only find irony and sarcasm. It was a strange period in my life, just after my ex-wife left me. I was a bit wild, lost, angry. I don't paint myself the victim in these vignettes of my life, but on the same token, I don't paint myself the criminal either. I try to stay neutral, but again, deep down inside, I feel that I failed Shelly. I'm trying to think humor, something funny, but the more I try to think funny, the more I lose any humor that I could even hope to muster.
July believes in me. She says I can do it, but for the life of me I don't see how. I decide to hold onto the piece for awhile before showing it to them, waiting for some comedic inspiration. Maybe something will settle upon me, and I'll jump up and type it into the play. Or maybe not. I think time will tell. Time tells all things. I'm patient, and resolute. I always have been. Always. I've waited longer than any man I know for some of the most mundane things, just to build patience. The greatest thing that I learned was to exercise patience with myself. I know how resistant I am to things sometime, and instead of frustrating myself, I give myself chances. This allows me to live with myself since I'm a bit of a perfectionist, and suffer a bit from OCD.
There is a soft knocking on the door. I look at the clock, 2:20am. I stop typing. Turn down the radio, and grow silent. The knock continues. Should I get up? Should I? Two thoughts rail in my head. Get up or ignore it. Obviously someone is trying to contact someone, but WHY NOT RING THE FUCKING BELL? Hmmm, let's use a little forensic investigation into this. The reason why the person is knocking softly is that they don't want to wake the person inside. Hey, lets say that they THINK that the person that they are looking for is on the Eighth floor, my floor, instead of one above or one below. Lets also look how stupid it would be to knock softly so as not to wake the person up inside. Why knock? Then it hits me: the person on the other side of the door believes that there are TWO people in the room. He/she wishes to alert one without waking the other. That's why he/she does not ring the obnoxious bell!
Two people? Husband and wife? Someone is cheating on someone, and their paramour is trying to reach them. Still this poor fool, outside my door, must have gotten the floors wrong and thinks that my door is that of his/her lover's. That would make perfect sense why this idiot will not stop knocking on my door, night after night at odd hours. Waitaminute, although this sounds like strong reasoning, could I instead be rationalizing? Could I be making excuses for something that is not there? I could simply be hearing things again. That makes perfect sense too. Maybe the fear of that, hearing things, is the reason why I DON'T get up to answer the door. If there is nothing on the other side, Hobobob might have to go back on the ABILIFY. That will not be good, because ABILIFY is one of the more aggressive medicines that I was taking. Both Dr. A, and my Psychiatrist at Metropolitan Hospital told me that it causes more health problems than it's worth.
I laugh at them, problems like what, pray tell? Dr. A sits up on his stool in his office. "Problems like sudden death." My eyes open. You're kidding. "You are already on medicines that can give you really serious issues," Dr. A points out. "Your potassium levels are very low. You have to get more potassium." Sure doc, no problem. I'll get some Potassium pills when I get home. "NO!" Dr. A's eyes widen. "That will kill you too! Don't ever take a potassium pill!" Whew, glad you warned me doc. Dr. A leans forward, eyes boring into mine, "The BENAZEPRIL in your system does not take kindly to heavy doses of Potassium. Eat more beans, like lentils. Get your potassium naturally. It's much safer." Sure doc.
I'm sitting in Metropolitan Hospital last month, talking to my new Psychiatrist, lets call him Doctor N. He goes over my pills that I show him I'm taking. He takes two away. "LYRICA is too much. You're already taking an anti-anxiety pill with the LAMICTAL. And you definitely need to get off the ABILIFY," he says. Why is that? "Because it causes sudden death." Oh, I heard about that.
I go to the nearest Duane Reade pharmacy to pick up my pre- scriptions, and the pharmacist comes out from behind the wall. "Mr. Hobobob?" He walks up to me. Yeah? "I just want to tell you that BENAZEPRIL will lower your potassium levels. You need to eat a lot of bananas...." And beans, I interrupt him. He nods, "Get them naturally. Do not take Potassium pills." I got it, sir. Thanks. Well, at least people are looking out for me. Although I've been on this shit for years. Everyone is just now warning me about potassium pills? Wow.
I go home, sit in front of my computer and in the middle of writing an email, it goes down. Hmmm, I stand up and over the laptop. I think. I haven't heard the fan running in quite some time. I had a system that I built years ago, and the fan died on it, and low and behold, it used to just die out after awhile. I came to find out that it was an overheat issue. I replaced the fan, and the problem went away. It appears that computer CPU's are designed to shut down if they get too hot. And without the CPU, the entire operating system dies. Just like that. Shit even the hardware goes South. I turn the computer back on, and I don't hear the fan. It's the fan assembly.
How do I solve this? I turn around and look at my inert air conditioner. I turn it on and drop the room temper- ature to 60 degrees. In no time it's like a refrigerator in my room. I dress in a sweater, slacks, socks, and a jacket. My hands freeze, my nose turns cold and runs. My laptop runs, and runs and runs. It likes the cold room, no doubt dissipating the heat quickly through the keyboard. I don't have shut down problems anymore. Whoopee! I get to work. When I get tired I turn to HULU.com and watch my favorite television shows. The laptop runs smoothly, accepting the increased demand with no problem. I'll have to keep this up to use her I see. Just as a test, I turn off the air conditioner, while still watching videos. Within five minutes it shuts down. Yeah, a heat issue.
The sun settles on the steely shoulders of the buildings of the city. The sky turns a beautiful orange and yellow. Night is quickly approaching. I notice that I only had breakfast today. Which was at noon. Maybe it was lunch time, which was around 9:00pm. I get up and microwave a piece of fish, and fresh vegetables.
It's going to be a long night again. I wonder if the idiot is going to knock on my door tonight.HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2010/06/thread-eye-of-needle.html
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