Uh-oh. WARNING: hormone fueled post headed your way. If that is your kind of sadistic thrill keep on reading, folks. Cause I got the crazy today. And the most tragic aspect of it all is that when I feel crazy I feel the most like the old me.
Oh, isn't it ironic, don't you think? A little too ironic, yeah, I really do think. It's like brain damage, but you keep the old cray-cray. It's making memories, but they just don't latch on and stay. It's the gray matter that really did shrink, and now my amalgada's disfigured.
Long covid has a way of sneaking up on youuuuuuu. Yeah, covid has a funny, funny way, of ruining your life. Yeah, ruining your life.
We are supposed to go see My Morning Jacket tonight. We've seen them a whole bunch of times and they always put on a great show. I looked at the set list from their show a few nights ago and there were only a few songs I didn't recognize. Since all this brain crap, I can't seem to enjoy new music, even if it is by a band that I enjoy the rest of their catalogue. It is almost as if I just cannot get into anything that was made in the past two years. My mind only wants stuff that I already had an emotional attachment to, because somehow deep down it resonates with me and feels like home. You know, since I have like zero emotional attachment to anything anymore.
HELLO. I AM DEANNA. I AM A ROBOT. Actually, I am less than a robot because even that Google AI claims to have feelings.
Peppy asked me this morning if I was excited to go, and I wish he would stop using that word because I AM LITERALLY INCAPABLE OF FEELING PHYSICAL EXCITEMENT ABOUT ANYTHING. It is soul crushing to think about, which is obviously why I have to be medicated for the first time in my life.
So we get in this stupid fight this morning, about everything and about nothing. I know that it is harder for him to love this new me. I don't blame him, because it is harder for me to love this new me. At least Gage and I are pretty close now. That is the only good thing that has come out of this.
Peppy will go with or without me, but I'm sure in the end I will go. It is just a combination of hormones and then just thinking about the fact that I can't feel excitement over anything, even a band that I love. It sucks. It really, really sucks. And then I think about how Gage feels like this too, and that is absolutely heartbreaking. He is only a child, and he's not even the only one dealing with this. I was reading the longhaul subreddit and this mom was asking questions because she is afraid her four year old now has cognitive problems since having covid.
It is like humans are currently divided into these subcategories, and some of us just feel like remnants, leftovers, husks of who we used to be.
I am ok. I promise. I just need to type to process things out since I can't mentally do that anymore. Hormones and all that junk. I will be better tomorrow, or maybe even in a few hours. That's how it works round these parts.
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