Anorak hand-job
Nov. 12th, 2003 11:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hirezSee, now, heresafookinthing...
I pitched off my bike last weekend - embarrassing, and I managed to bollocks my ankle. (Not the fell-over-on-the-way-to-the-pub one. The other one. Now I have a matching set. Anyway.)
So I'm guzzling painkiller of choice (Ibuprofen + codeine) and...
... I'm startlingly productive.
The only thing that shuffles to mind is that, due to the warm fuzzies, I'm not spending half my time second-guessing myself because I Just Don't Care. This freedom from self-doubt business is really quite liberating.
If that's the sort of effect one can get from SSRIs then I think I want to play.
It feels like the usual clamouring mob of demons (At least that's how I think of it. Imagine a howling tribe of imps, each one bearing a different yet equally choice remnant of Past that they insist on waving in front of me:
"Here's you making a drunken fool of yourself. I bet she thinks you're a complete idiot. Not much point even speaking to her again, eh?"
"Hey, remember that time you rolled the Carlton? It went like this, didn't it?"
"Don't try that. You don't know how. You'll piss it up and people will laugh."
It is truly the Devil's own slide-show that you can't look away from or ignore.)
[ Of course there are people who'll gleefully relate Exactly What You Did Last Night. They have no empathy and should be spurned as unfeeling wretches. ]
... Have been silenced, (or at least there's a locked door in the way and I can sort of hear some muffled banging and cursing, but I Don't Care.) and I can hear myself think for the first time in... Ages.
It won't last, of course.
[ObWhitbyReport: Complete Shite. Hated it.]
I pitched off my bike last weekend - embarrassing, and I managed to bollocks my ankle. (Not the fell-over-on-the-way-to-the-pub one. The other one. Now I have a matching set. Anyway.)
So I'm guzzling painkiller of choice (Ibuprofen + codeine) and...
... I'm startlingly productive.
The only thing that shuffles to mind is that, due to the warm fuzzies, I'm not spending half my time second-guessing myself because I Just Don't Care. This freedom from self-doubt business is really quite liberating.
If that's the sort of effect one can get from SSRIs then I think I want to play.
It feels like the usual clamouring mob of demons (At least that's how I think of it. Imagine a howling tribe of imps, each one bearing a different yet equally choice remnant of Past that they insist on waving in front of me:
"Here's you making a drunken fool of yourself. I bet she thinks you're a complete idiot. Not much point even speaking to her again, eh?"
"Hey, remember that time you rolled the Carlton? It went like this, didn't it?"
"Don't try that. You don't know how. You'll piss it up and people will laugh."
It is truly the Devil's own slide-show that you can't look away from or ignore.)
[ Of course there are people who'll gleefully relate Exactly What You Did Last Night. They have no empathy and should be spurned as unfeeling wretches. ]
... Have been silenced, (or at least there's a locked door in the way and I can sort of hear some muffled banging and cursing, but I Don't Care.) and I can hear myself think for the first time in... Ages.
It won't last, of course.
[ObWhitbyReport: Complete Shite. Hated it.]
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no subject
Date: 2003-11-12 11:40 am (UTC)Stuff.
Prod.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-12 12:22 pm (UTC)Nominate a weekend.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-12 12:29 pm (UTC)New year.
Pick one.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-12 12:54 pm (UTC)