I made it through the evening without doing anything desperate. The flare up eased a bit at night, but the cumulative effects were still there. This has been really brutal. I still slept like shit, and felt like shit when I woke up. It’s not over. I’m glad I don’t have a hangover or anything today combined with this flare up. It just melts my brain. I feel completely stupid. I can’t do basic tasks. I’m not safe to drive like this. Unreal what this disease can do to someone.
I’ve been going through Amazon and putting together a list of van build items. A lot of them were in my previous orders from the last build I did. There were some really good items I used, so I’ll use them again. I’ll try to do everything cheaper this time. The cabinet build worries me a lot. My thought was to use used kitchen cabinets that someone is giving away after a remodel. Paint them if necessary and throw them into the build. I get what I get. Beggars can’t be choosers. I don’t have the ability to build cabinets myself, although that is the best option. I don’t want to do any of this. I bet that’s what nearly everyone who has become homeless has said. I looked around my apartment last night and said, “Goodbye apartment. Goodbye normal person life. Goodbye running water and indoor plumbing.” As much as I need things to be easier, living in a van stealth camping is certainly not easy. This is my life now. I feel like I’m deep in a psychedelic trip. This is just a drug and will wear off, right? Nope. It’s real mate, and you’re proper fucked.
I’m hoping that if I have the van and all the components, the van will sort of just build itself. Like when you fall asleep reading a book for school and hoping you will absorb it through osmosis. I’ll have to chip away at it bit by bit. Not the best time of the year in Chicago to do this. I can’t live in it in Chicago in the winter. I’ll have to head south right away after I move into it. I’ll probably have to install the heater early on in the build so I can work when it’s freezing outside. Get some lights installed since it’s so dark. I’m really rusty with construction. I used to do it for a living and was really good at it, but now I’m disabled and my brain is pudding, so I can’t remember much. I’m sure I’ll make mistakes, but again, beggars can’t be choosers. I get what I get in the end. As long as I can stretch my money out as long as I can, that’s all that matters in the end. I could just throw a mattress in the back and go if I really need to. Everything beyond that is pure luxury.
Really hard day. I get a bit of a boost in the mornings. Even though sleep was bad and I felt awful when I woke up, I still just had some rest and my brain recovers a tiny bit from it. Once I’m up and fully awake, that boost drops off really hard. time seems to be going backwards today. I looked at the clock and it was 10:58, then about 15 minutes later I looked at it and it was 10:56. Now seemingly an hour later, it’s 11:13. Oh my god. Every second is pure agony.
Starting to feel better in the late afternoon. I suddenly found myself saying, “I don’t want to leave. I don’t want the van.” I’ve been saying that for 2 years, but I’m still in the position where I have to think about it. This is where the big problems starts though. I feel a little better, I turn to denial, I think I can get better and figure something out, and I end up doing nothing. Then the cycle restarts. The fibro will hit really hard, I won’t be able to do anything to help myself. I’ll be kicking myself for not doing something when I had the chance. I spend those decent days trying to feel human again. I get a little exercise, maybe play some games. Usually I just sit here breathing easier and experiencing relief from the insanity I just went through. Then the fibro comes back and I rubber band right back to the same place. The psychotic loop continues, and I’m out another week or two. There is no road map for me. No treatment plan. The only thing I have right now is a Hail Mary internet miracle cure that has only made things worse. I’m not responding to this protocol the way I’m supposed to. Now I keep saying “Let’s give it one more try. One more week. One more month to let it do its thing.”
When I feel better, I certainly feel less insane. I feel like I probably would make bad decisions when I’m in a bad state of mind. I feel like I can make better decisions when I’m feeling decent. But the problem is, I don’t actually feel better. Those are delusions. Nothing more. It isn’t optimism, it isn’t sanity, it isn’t me getting any better. It is me experiencing delusions and me being in denial. When you look at it that way, I feel like I’m sicker when I feel decent. At least when I feel terrible, I know I’m terrible and insane. I’m more than happy to stay where I am in this apartment, but there is no money for it. And if I’m feeling decent and not paying attention to my finances, then there’s something wrong there.