One site last week. Despite the four-week break due to the family emergency and then the doctor's vacation, I guess we're not playing catch up yet. I'm running low on supplements, though, which I'll be able to get more of tomorrow.
An observation regarding LENS' effects... I was monitoring myself during the various proceedings for my grandmother's death and funeral. I had, it was safe to say, a very difficult time during the first visit. But outwardly, it really didn't look it, I think. If I had to guess, I would guess I mostly looked tired, sad, and maybe bored, rather than "trying not to tear myself apart."
I think the LENS has increased my ability to mask how I'm doing, and possibly my capacity to endure things.
That really can only be a good thing, because the better I can politely smile at random people, the better I'll be able to blend. It does concern me somewhat, because with increased ability to mask how I'm doing comes increased ability to mask how I'm doing to myself. I already somewhat abuse that ability to get through life. Self-deception is a fundamental part of being human. I try to engage in as little as possible except for excellent causes, such as "not having a meltdown in public," and "if I acknowledged this all the time I would never leave home." Both worthy causes, I think.
When I say masking things, I'm mainly referring to things like, "how loud and sharp noises are," "how much anxiety it causes me to be out and amongst people I don't know," and "how difficult interaction is, even when you've set your own brain up to be a prediction machine." A lot of my ability to cope with a rather hostile world is tied into my ability to ignore my own distress. Somewhere less than a quarter mile away, there's a service or construction vehicle that insists on making that high pitched beeping sound for minutes at a time. But I don't focus on that, and try to ignore it, because if I don't do that, I won't get any writing done and then I'll feel bad about having a late entry.
The same principle goes for most interaction with strangers, getting stabbed in the eyes by bright sunlight, and even some anxiety-inducing activities.
Philosophically, this principle of self-deception is kind of worrying to me. But from a functional standpoint, it's my very best option. Focusing on all the aspects of life that hurt/stress/frustrate me just makes those things worse. Ignoring them doesn't make them better, but it makes them more tolerable.
This week I get to care for a birdlet again. One of the largest gaming conventions in the US is nigh, and my friends are going but I'm not. Therefore their parrotlet needs a quiet and supportive place to be, and that place is my apartment. Normally my pet care services are restricted to cats and dogs, but since these are friends, I make the exception. And in truth, he's not that hard to care for, it's just tricky because my apartment is not bird-proofed and sometimes he can fly. Good thing he's cute.
An observation regarding LENS' effects... I was monitoring myself during the various proceedings for my grandmother's death and funeral. I had, it was safe to say, a very difficult time during the first visit. But outwardly, it really didn't look it, I think. If I had to guess, I would guess I mostly looked tired, sad, and maybe bored, rather than "trying not to tear myself apart."
I think the LENS has increased my ability to mask how I'm doing, and possibly my capacity to endure things.
That really can only be a good thing, because the better I can politely smile at random people, the better I'll be able to blend. It does concern me somewhat, because with increased ability to mask how I'm doing comes increased ability to mask how I'm doing to myself. I already somewhat abuse that ability to get through life. Self-deception is a fundamental part of being human. I try to engage in as little as possible except for excellent causes, such as "not having a meltdown in public," and "if I acknowledged this all the time I would never leave home." Both worthy causes, I think.
When I say masking things, I'm mainly referring to things like, "how loud and sharp noises are," "how much anxiety it causes me to be out and amongst people I don't know," and "how difficult interaction is, even when you've set your own brain up to be a prediction machine." A lot of my ability to cope with a rather hostile world is tied into my ability to ignore my own distress. Somewhere less than a quarter mile away, there's a service or construction vehicle that insists on making that high pitched beeping sound for minutes at a time. But I don't focus on that, and try to ignore it, because if I don't do that, I won't get any writing done and then I'll feel bad about having a late entry.
The same principle goes for most interaction with strangers, getting stabbed in the eyes by bright sunlight, and even some anxiety-inducing activities.
Philosophically, this principle of self-deception is kind of worrying to me. But from a functional standpoint, it's my very best option. Focusing on all the aspects of life that hurt/stress/frustrate me just makes those things worse. Ignoring them doesn't make them better, but it makes them more tolerable.
This week I get to care for a birdlet again. One of the largest gaming conventions in the US is nigh, and my friends are going but I'm not. Therefore their parrotlet needs a quiet and supportive place to be, and that place is my apartment. Normally my pet care services are restricted to cats and dogs, but since these are friends, I make the exception. And in truth, he's not that hard to care for, it's just tricky because my apartment is not bird-proofed and sometimes he can fly. Good thing he's cute.
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