Enjoying the spring… And happy to know that life is better than it was

I’m having a fairly good day! I bought a new bottle of saline so that will do my eye good for the next two weeks. I’m buying another bottle on Friday though, since I’m sick of running out of them every two weeks and having to wait for the next day to come around, to bring a bottle home to clean my eye. I want saline on the ready every day of the year, not just when I can buy it! So that’s sorted. Next thing! I bought a tray of diced beef today and almost started crying. That damn frigging crockpot really got to me. Then the lady told me that slow cookers work totally opposite to ovens and stove tops. Instead of evaporating moisture, the crockpot builds it up, and the steam from the food turns into condensed water, causing that to form part of the fluid volume of the food! That’s where I’d gone wrong all along. The water doubles by the time the food is done, because it comes out of the food, and from the excess steam, creating another volume of liquid. So if I’d used a lot less fluid, even half a cup of water or a tin of flavoured tomatoes instead of water, the steam would have created more fluid without the base mix getting too runny! So today I put very little water on my meat, added a lot of vegetables and sprinkled the base over the top. I also diced the vegetables small so that when they cook, they’ll disintegrate into the liquid that comes out of them, forming the consistency required for the base, flavouring the food, and mixing it all together so that it should turn into a stew, rather than a pot full of spew, as I’d like to call it. I left the pot on high for about an hour, now I’m just gonna forget about it till late tonight. Then I’ll turn it off overnight at some point, put it in the fridge after I’ve slept for an hour or two, then put it in the fridge and go back to bed. I wanted chicken and salad for tea, but unfortunately the stuff I bought made for a heavy load so I got a lift home (don’t worry I don’t just accept any lift!) It has to be from someone I’m familiar with and already have some idea that they won’t hurt me. The lady is one of the childcare workers on Robert’s Road. I’d believe her because she says she sees me walking all the time, and from what I’m understanding at the moment, she’s fairly familiar with that IGA store and their staff, and they were happy to let me go with her, since she’d nicely asked them to let her take me home. That was very nice of her! Usually I would say no thanks, and wait for the cab. But rarely, people give me just the right impression that they’re good citizens who only want to help, so it’s the only time I allow help. If I get any neutral sort of feeling, or an unsure, uncertain feeling about the situation, then no way Hosay! I have to be absolutely definite that the person isn’t trying to secretly con me. This lady pretty much knew the paranoia feeling I was on about when I said that CI Australia programs used to get me freaked out over accepting lifts and such, so I almost never take a lift now. For one, it has to be broad daylight, and two, the person taking me home has to be associated with staff of that premises and be trustworthy to them and to others especially kids and animals! If they aren’t familiar with staff of that joint, the staff absolutely have to be certain of whether I should or should not be trusted around that person in their car. Otherwise, no way in the world will I take a lift from them. Today is just one of those lucky days where a genuinely good person was of great help to me, didn’t want to take any money which I was more than grateful for and couldn’t stop thanking her! She even put my shopping at the front door for me. It takes a really good person who I don’t know, to get my trust like that. It can’t be just any Joe Blow. I don’t follow my own feelings either. I follow whatever is happening around me, or if there’s a good or bad aura about that person, how they’re acting around me and the people around us, etc. I don’t just rely on my own emotions, that’s a big mistake.

So now the crockpot is turned on. I’m happily writing my almost daily journal entry. Troy is happily lying around in the lounge and dining area. I may or may not go for a walk this arvo. Tomorrow I’m definitely going for a walk, whether I will need to take a cab home or not. As much as it’s not the end of the world if I don’t exercise much, I’m starting to feel almost worn out just by doing nothing! It’s like, I get worn out from walking a lot, but if I don’t walk I wear out from lack of it! Hmmm, I can’t understand that lol. Oh well, I guess walking a lot is in my future. At least I’ll wear out and feel good later, instead of wearing out and feeling like shit later because I’ve done nothing to fix that fatigue feeling. Walking has helped me, so I’m going to presume that exercising every so often is better than not at all. Plus I notice that Troy gets extremely badly behaved when he’s not doing exercise. By bad behaviour, I mean he’ll find stuffon the floor and eat it or chew it to bits. He doesn’t do anything nice when he’s bored. He doesn’t think hey I’m bored, I might nicely pester my owner and/or bang on the back door to be let out. He literally turns into a devil and has fun with only what he knows I’ll go off at him for doing!

I don’t know why animals are inherently mischievous in nature. I don’t know why they aren’t nice beings. They are by not biting, they’re tameable etc. But they aren’t inherently nice. They usually chew on anything, they don’t care if it may affect their health or the sanity of people who discover their behaviour. Animals instinctively follow their feelings without consequence or reason, which means ninety percent of the time, we may dislike what they do. For them the world is just taste, scent, and good or bad. But to us, there’s a lot of grey areas in between, almost all of which they cross! I can’t understand why. But what I conclude is, animals have no intelligence. They don’t have an intellect. They don’t think, if I do this, that will happen. They think, I did this, and this happened, but I’ll do this particular thing again because it was good, or no I won’t because it was bad. It’s not vomiting, or dying, or fits, or whatever, that worries them. It’s the experience they had before the problems occurred that worries them. It means if dogs and cats like the taste of some fruits or plants, they won’t ever understand that some of these things will make them sick. But if something bad happens to them every time they eat it immediately, like someone goes after them and reprimands the animal while it’s eating the stuff it shouldn’t, that will make the dog or cat think that what it’s doing is wrong. Not the actual result of the behaviour. The only time results are understood is if they happen to have an issue with their behaviour within two seconds of their acting up, every time.

Dogs and cats, and almost every other animal, to me, are like a living version of stuffed animals. Only living ones are stuffed with life that must be nurtured and groomed and trained, as you would a human child, only that training and grooming never develops and grows and soon comes to a plateau, as it happens with children turning into adults. Animals only respond to what’s happening around them. They won’t respond without stimulus. They can do things at will, but there must be some sort of stimulus around to get them to change their actions and behaviours. It doesn’t make animals mechanical as such. It just makes them more simple than humans. Humans and animals will want to stand up and shake, stretch, yawn etc. But animals need more stimulus around them to create interaction, since they have an inability to premeditate situations to amuse themselves with. The only things they can premeditate is chewing, chewing on whatever they can get their teeth into, if not reminded every day, of otherwise, except for what you allow them access to. Of course that’s going back to their training. And they’ll premeditate going outside for a toilet break because again, they were trained this way and have to always be kept up-to-date with that training, with periodic reminders to go outside, otherwise they’ll lose that training too. Dogs and cats, and most animals, are at the level of two-year-old children for life.

I’ve got Blue Care tomorrow. I can’t wait! While she’s cleaning inside, I’m gonna hose my carport. It’s nice when outside the house is just as clean as inside the house. Hopefully all my washing is dry by then, because I’ll take it inside too. Then that’s it for clothes going through the wash for another week. At some point I’ll walk to the shops again, probably in the afternoon when it’s not very hot. The other good thing is that I can sit back and enjoy the spring weather. It was something I couldn’t enjoy fully last year. I did enjoy the weather and myself during my good periods. But that’s my point. These good periods were just that. Today, my good periods are the norm, my new life! My life used to consist of just a few good spurts of each day where the rest was spent sleeping, vomiting, and trying to commit suicide and almost succeeding except for family members and doctors foiling my ideas very very fast, or when I least expected to be caught. This year’s attempt at trying to get a suicide plan going in June, was the very last one. No more ideations and plans in the making for an attempt y’y’y’y’y’y’y’y’ye’e’e’e’e’e’e’e’e’ea! I am living the good life now, compared to where I was at, this time last year. I can’t think about that shit though. Every time I do, I start panicking and my stomach turns into very uncomfortable knots and I feel sick. So I just need to think of my good days now. My good days way outweigh my few bad days of being totally angry at the world, which is way more of an improvement than being the other way around last year!

When I look back, I think of where I would be today had I not had my eye taken out this year. I can’t say I count those other operations as successes, as they didn’t cure me one iota, they just gave me a few days of reprieve, and I had been weaning off painkillers during those short-lived moments, until I had to suddenly take big doses of them again, while keeping to the eight Paracetamols a day policy, at the same time increasing the codeine by major amounts whilst keeping lower doses of nurofen in the equation. That was a hard time for me. Anyway, I won’t count the procedures as success stories, but I will count that time as an opportunity for the doctor to find a better option that would help me, which was this last surgery in April. He never wanted to remove my eye. Last year I didn’t want it to go, but by the end of the year, early into this year, I certainly didn’t want a bad eye anymore. So the doctor kept convincing me to try different treatment options, which I pretended to agree with. He wasn’t happy to find this out later, but he was even more upset to eventually hear that I just didn’t want to offend him by insisting adamantly that he do something drastic before he thought of being definite about this, himself. He wanted to hear the truth from the start, but he was happier in the end, when I was being more upfront with him two months before my big surgery. It meant the doctor kept saying that he was in agreement with me, just that he wanted to try one approach at a time first, to be certain he had turned over every stone and leaf first. I eventually got really angry at him and that’s when I went wild and said that since there’s no cure for my condition and he can’t help me, why did he suddenly carry on as he did and go on about operations that weren’t going to work? So of course he gave my eye drops time to work, in which case I refused to keep taking them. I was getting more moody, irritable and sick by the day. So when I refused the eye drops and wouldn’t listen to any other ideas about keeping my eye and doing this and that to keep the pain down, the doctor decided to take the plunge and get rid of my right eye for good. I told him that no matter what he thinks, I wasn’t gonna live with a dead, rotten eye in my head forever. That would be ugly and I already had felt ugly enough. That caused him to crack the sads. So two weeks after that, he was damn well ready to kill me for an hour to fix my life so I wouldn’t continue to exist in an unliveable state anymore. I still don’t regret having my eye removed. I do regret deliberately getting addicted to Tramadol though. But the withdrawals were short-lived, and the family made sure to keep me as well-fed as possible, until I was pretty much on my own feet again and didn’t need to be talked into cooking my own dinners because at the time I was more interested in being lazy and either relying on others to make my dinner, or I wouldn’t eat unless it was something I could make without any concentration at all.

Now that time is way back in the past thank fucking goodness! I no longer need to talk myself into getting full because of thinking I’ll suddenly vomit, or choke, or try to kill myself due to flashbacks and what not, because the textures and tastes of food back then, reminded me of different life experiences of last year and this year, don’t ask why! That was so frigging weird. Now, I have to be told to stop if I accidentally gobble too much too fast and spew up! Oh my God. Then after I get over cracking the sads for five minutes, I smile and continue ravenously eating, but not so fast. I’ve gone from being too scared to eat, to being too God damn hungry to care about what will happen if I do eat! Today I joked with the IGA staff when they asked if two zucchinis in a pack was too much for me. I said yeah, because they’re so bad for you and they’ll make you fat because they’re so full of sugar! I pretty much made the whole neighbourhood burst out laughing, then I quietly said that I was sorry for the people I was picking on about vegies being fattening. Then I laughed and said I don’t care how many vegies I take home so long as I can eat them! Plus all the shit I’ve heard from people over the last year about the way I eat too much food making me fat, has not happened. Clearly I don’t eat enough junk food! Lately I have been, so I need to control that habit a bit. But I’m pretty sure if I eat a lot of vegies, I won’t die very fast. Even Methuselah can testify to that! Hopefully with just enough water in the pot to stop anything from burning, the stew should be fine this time.

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