Bangkok Bdsm Dominatrix Jaa4u >> Roadside Picnic – this is not!

Ok so Roadside Picnic is my 8th book. That’s a lot of reading since August.

This the first page of all the books I have read where I was stopped cold not quite believing what I had just read … and then went back and read it a few more times. The first few just to confirm what I had read, and then each time after that simply to marvel at how much it shocked me.

As a mom, I think this line will haunt me forever in a good way. Like, it really hit me hard and I went from loving the book – oh say 10/10 which you know because I have been raving about it – to a 15/10. It just keeps getting better every page.

So much so that now I have slowed my reading down to super slow just to savour every word.

I’ve never called my daughters ‘monkey’ or ‘ling’ in my language, but I did have cute names for them depending on how they were acting. For instance, the way my youngest could climb a tree so quickly, I’d call her kitten. So when I was reading about the father calling his daughter ‘monkey’ – it made sense to me, I was like ‘uh-huh, I do that.’

And I always used to kiss them goodnight well after they had gone to bed if I got home late from work, or I would stroke their hair once just to feel, not to wake them. Kiss their shoulder, something like that.

So again, I was so into what the father was doing after barely surviving the day and the warmth he felt checking in on his daughter because I had days like that where I had to work 18 hours and would have only enough energy to peek at them before going to bed. This was like when they were 2 and 3, maybe 3 and 4.

Then I hit the ‘wtf’ line.

Then a small ‘omg’ went off in my mind.

Followed by me saying “OMG” out loud.

Then all the re-reading of the same page. Oh, cute side note – I’d film myself doing it but I read in the dark so you wouldn’t see too much – but I think it is funny that I now turn pages with my nose.

When I read, if I am in the hammock in my stargazing hut, my right hand is below me constantly rocking the hammock back and forth and so my left hand holds the Kindle. So, instead of bringing my right hand up to tap the right side of my reader, I use my nose poking it like those Drinking or Dipping Bird toys that would forever dip after giving it a finger tap.

I had to put the book down just now because I wanted to come and tell you what I think is happening to me. The book has been a distraction – a nice one – but what is happening is not all bad, some is quite good.

Tomorrow, the 15th, will be 8 month anniversary of the day I quit all the anti-psychotic medications prescribed by my doctor cold-turkey. Something that Google’s Gemini AI pretty much forbade me to do because the consequences would be severe and would last – wait for it – seven to eight months.

Everything it predicted would happen, has happened starting with the first two weeks of not being able to sleep because my brain for fifteen years had been programmed to nod off to the super strong effects of Lorazepam which made me feel constantly in a dream like state. It was the Haloperidol and the Risperidone that made my brain unable to function.

Then came me trying to exhaust myself with 8 hours of daily exercise so I would learn to sleep from simply collapsing into my bed face first out of muscle soreness.

Followed by my brain needing 3/4’s of a year to figure out how to reset itself and function as a normal person’s brain would. That included trying to figure out how to manage being awake for 16 hours instead of 4 each day.

All the while, I’ve been reading constantly to calm my brain’s output of information down to a crawl and managing the information overload that has come with being free of any prescribed meds.

Lately though, I’m talking the last three weeks, possibly four, I’ve felt different. Totally different.

I’m remembering things like I used to when I was in school. New words are sticking in my mind like glue and it is amazing. I’m back at doing things I used to do like watching the stock market, scanning my Twitter list of professionals to find out what has been happening, summarizing podcasts with whatever ai I’m using at the moment. I’ve been scribbling random creative thoughts on my ‘scribblepad calculator’ or in my notebooks … like I used to do in school.

In short, I feel like super-me; a version I have not been in touch with for , well, let’s say 20 years!

With that though, has come some wild moments.

Think of it like pleasantly sitting in a calm pond and then somehow getting hit by a tsunami wave unexpectedly.

For me, that feeling has caused my heart rate to explode to over 150 beats per minute and my stress meter on my Garmin watch to spike to 100 and signal a warning. That warning has come with such a tightness around my throat that my whole body starts to go numb – or at least feels like it is about to do so. I’ve had to ‘rescue’ myself from falling out of my chair or falling down on my face many times this week with emergency walks where I grab the heavy 16kg kettlebell and walk like I used to at iPremium condo in Bangkok before my breakdown – hauling it around like a massively heavy egg in my arms and boobs.

It’s the closest I’ve felt like I’m about to die that I have ever felt.

I can’t sleep. I had the one day where I recovered with 18 hours of sleep I think it was, only to be into about hour 30 yet again of laying there with my eyes closed but fully awake.

Its because I’m not normal upstairs *knocks on my ‘noggin.

Information gets pushed to me at light speed, not always, but when a ‘wave’ hits, its incredible. For example, I can talk for maybe 5 hours straight without stopping when a wave hits.

I’m truly mimicking the book Flowers for Algernon. A book I can’t count as my ninth because I read it in my language many years back. Same as 1984 and a few others. One of my thoughts when I was carrying the 16kg egg was if Charlie – like supposing Flowers for Algernon actually happened and wasn’t a book – if he at one point had to rescue himself from a fatal attack with crazy hard exercise?

So on one hand, I’m getting ‘super smart’ lol. Meaning, I’m me – I’m back, I’m who I was 20 years ago only this is a super-charged version of myself.

And on the other hand, madness at times, wtf.

But I said to myself, sitting on bed back on August 15th – my birthday, that no matter what happens when I flush these white pills down the toilet – that it is for the better.

Kind of a Star Trek “the needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the one” kind of thing. The need to be myself, outweigh the need to shut out the wave moments, even if that decision comes with a dire consequence.

As for my banking problem – fuck it.

There are issues from over a month ago and as I just told you – I wasn’t me back then. A lot of things in my life I choose not to share with you all because, well, you’d run for the hills and I’d be screwed.

The fugue states that I wrote about on Fanvue – and then had to delete – they’re real. I don’t know what I do in the middle of a wave attack. Change my password? Possibly. Whatever.

Its what I have to deal with because you see, I have to deal with being me 24 hours a day. I only write to you about the best of the best of my days, the wonderful handful of hours where I’m ‘clicking’ and I feel wonderful.

But just so you know, there is a reason I have secluded myself. When I tell you I needed to get better and cut out all the drama, all the noise – it was so I could greatly reduce the frequency of the waves.

That has proved to be successful, and I’m glad I’ve done it.

However, ‘greatly reduce’ sadly, does not mean ‘totally eliminate’, and thus – I have a handful of days like the ones I just had.

Sorry

Love you.

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