Hello, [LL], please read at your leisure!
OK, I can check that out at library, probably Friday. Did collect that info onto USB, btw. Also, I never receieved my $1400, now that's somethign I have to deal with.
I pride myself on keeping the yard pretty clean. It collects over the winter, despite my efforts, and takes time to whittle back down. When they show up, and the area is clean, they don't notice.
Please remember that I am disabled. The agreement was to pick it up regularly, hopefully about twice a week. There is no way I am picking it up every day, because there is no way I can pick it up every day. People underestimate the seriousness of this illness, and this is why attacks are beginning again from assorted children in men's bodies.
At the moment, I am feeling very woozy and shakey. I am still recovering from a double whammy relapse. I have BP issues. I cannot not clean it up every day. That was not the agreement. I will try to do better. But, it's an art.
I thought that might have been a cistern. I was only just mentioning it as a curiosity. Btw: That area back by the cistern is where my dog does his stuff. Is as out of the way from everything as humanly possible, and I think my dog deserves some credit. He also goes along the slope, where absolutely no one walks.
Considering everything, I think we do a pretty good job. Even so, neighbour [A-hole Guy] has come through here, stepped on random poop, and accosted me over it. He was trespassing. Next, he yells at me when we are out by the front tree, accusing me of letting my dog piss there, (can you imagine?) I told him I stopped letting him piss there over a year ago, and still he was shouting down my throat accusing me of doing so. So, I called the cops. And the nice cop urged me to consider [A-hole Guy's] concerns. That my dog is leaving poop, when that's bogus, as he knows that just doesn't. This guy also lies about owning this property.
I am little bit sensitive to be assumed the bad guy simply because I have a dog, and am disabled, because this is what is happening. I don't need it from you. I know it is your job to cover such concerns, and so I do understand. I will try to pick it a little more often, but these guys showed up on a bad day.
Thanks for your help on the rest assist! I know you are doing what you can. Sorry this letter is so long, but, at this point, you don't need to read the rest, or you can leave it until you are ready for a bed-time story.
Btw, now that we're here. After a week or more of sheer hell, in bed, only rising to take the dog out, and to eat, I was finally able to tidy up in the kitchen. Flouting around in soft shoes, music completely quiet, merely whistling or talking to my dog. For this, I receive more bangs from the guy downstairs, (waiting until he thinks I am sleeping). One occurred at 1:pm yesterday, and my heart has still not settled down, which is very bad for CFS, and explains my wooziness presently. How do you expect me to clean up dog shit every day, when idiots keep shitting on me like this? There is no possible way I will be able to move out of here if I keep being injured like this. Much less, keep the place clean.
Again: When I moved here, the front yards were paved in dog shit, as was the wide public area by the street, because our friend, Phil, who wasn't even here legally, wasn't doing anything like a fair job in cleaning things up. Since then, I have have had people come by and compliment that I clean ujp after my dog, because, "No one else around here does that!" And I have inspired people to improve their lawns and houses, because of the thankless efforts I have put in here. Which I have enjoyed, but I I get nothing but hate around here. So, seriously? Whatever. I am going to copy/paste something I wrote to online friends, which might elucidate my illness, somewhat:
One of the symptoms of CFS is brain inflammation, usually low grade. It produces great fatigue, brain fog and brain flash, great pain, gait problems, imbalance, heart problems, and an inability to think well. It can get as bad as Alzheimers. I have rushes of anti-EBV immune reaction at least 100x more than anyone actually fighting EBV, even though I no longer have the virus. This concurrently occurs with reactions to CMV, etc., and is similar to the new fad, Longhauler COVID. There is an explosion of immune chemicals, which basically attack the brain in terms of pain and inflammation. Meanwhile, there is dehydration, as the brain's unique lymphatic system tries to remove those immune chemicals, etc., via removing liquid.
I been dealing with several days of this, which has very bad. Wine may make it seem to go away, but it only makes it worse. I'm sorry if I have said anything stupid, again. Even though some of the things I say may have had actual relevance, in some ways, none of you deserve that. I'm trying to explain what happens to me. I lose my ability to think well, I go into fight-or-flight, I become less able to focus or expend energy due to fatigue, and I get angry. The walls are closing in, not just on my brain, but now, because of this, also upon my emotions. I become very frustrated with what I have been seeing in politics and related; I have been very much alone due to CFS plus the pandemic; and I have many other goals or hopes in my life, which just keep never becoming realised. Often, my disappointment in many people may be warranted, but, together with all this painful amplification, I may get a little too much like Joe Biden, with his angry retorts, and his dementia, lol.
I feel taken away from the special pace where I can go online to write and to be heard. Which is why I try to read less of your posts, or of others, during these times - and because I need to try to focus on other things than carrying on comments and relationships, which I know are important, but because I've got to economise what life I have. Even here. If you look at my real life, I avoid people, even my relatives, because of CFS. I won't start talking about social dynamics and illness.
Anyway, I am sorry I may say stupid, nonsense or hurtful things at times, even though I have done so well in the past, for the most part. As everything becomes more crazy, here and everywhere, I just need to pull back. This is especially true when the inflammation is starting to snowball into a flare. When it really bad, I can't think, or do anything else. After days, when I start pulling out, I start regaining my abilities, which include a feeling for music, empathy, or the awareness and energy to wash the dishes. It's not depression, it's almost the very opposite, in some respects, yet appearing to others, as laziness, and so on.
When I was in high school, I thought a lot about religion/physics. Had an ongoing "argument" with a friend via long letters. Took pot, after HS, precisely to figure out what reality was all about - the roots of consciousness. That's when I kept up my notebook journal, of 2 million words, which a college friend threw out, when I fell ill w/ CFS. Well, in that journal, I explored dreams, and quantum physics, and cognitive information processing theory, via my own thinking and discovery. Although it's not like I was reading, as well. As in CFS, it may be easy to generate ideas when you are in the throes, it's not so easy to one to read - to take in external information. (Aside: Imagine how it might have been for someone who was so invested in reading and thinking, to come down w/ CFS, which is perpetually decreasing IQ and empathy. Btw, w/ CFS, I did hold on to my ability to generate ideas, write, and walk, and appreciate music - as a war to keep myself healthy - except when I get hit by crushing bouts of fatigue and inflammation).
My latest brain episode was so bad - my inner brain was so swelled or dysfunctionalised - the brain fog and dementia was so bizarrely intense - that I was like someone in IC, immobilized and babbling nonsense. Maybe not so low-grade, now. In fact, bad enough to sport hallucinations. Visions.
Like a gift from heaven, I have experienced, in the last few days, the most incredible "psychic" phenomenon, which has helped me put back together ideas I started years ago, and take them farther. As if I was being rewarding, for trying hard, being so honest in my pursuit, and now being in such deep pain, that the answers were handed to me on a silver platter. I was able to study these 'dreams', as they occurred. It may sound crazy to you, but my brain was inflamed, dudes, (still is, not as bad). But, I do believe that true visions, like those experienced by Cayce, who was ill, and the Fatima girl, and so on, are not only possible, but they are part of the phenomenon which under-girds life itself. I'm saying quantum weirdness, God to some, peyote to Castaneda, hallucinogens to *****66, or just endorphins and neurochemicals reacting to pain. Maybe this is the same tunnel you enter when you die, it's chemical? it's divine? That's the conversation we had when we hit the limit of logical observation regarding subatomic particles. It's both, or neither, or nothing if you prefer.
So, I have a lot to say regarding my experience, what it revealed, what is nature, what is illness, and so on, hopefully maybe can start soon. Would also factor into a series about, "Power vs Capacitation'. Also relates to time, my old demon. Other series still boiling and incomplete. Other tasks and responsibilities and goals keep passing, along with CFS. But, how about that, huh? I mean, unbelievable.
PS - Good luck with everything you are doing!