morning ramble

In the US, one interesting attribute of class striation is that people above a certain wealth level often don't associate with a single cigarette smoker.  Tobacco addiction almost entirely eradicated among liberal types with money and education.  Meanwhile, I've read that among some poor conservative communities, the inverse is true,

everyone smokes like it's still 1950.

In the blue state poverty I'm more familiar with it's more mixed, but I have known many who smoke.  I tried it myself for a few months, years ago.  I figured out that most of the enjoyment came from satiating the addiction, rather than anything I really like all that much about tobacco.  For a while, this seemed like a good deal, because when life is such crap that we don't enjoy much of anything, we take what we can get.  Addiction itself can be, not something to avoid, but even downright precious.  This is why people with no money keep buying something that's so expensive.

Once that addiction was gone, I discovered that I could no longer even enjoy it occasionally as the mere smell made me nauseous.  I was somewhat ambivalent about giving it up.  Coffee though, how could I possibly stop enjoying coffee?  I just need to drink it way less, but not give it up, blah blah blah.. well, as I made some for myself this morning, the smell of it was a bit nauseating.  Coffee.  The smell of coffee, nauseating.  That's insane.

My emotions seem to have evened out, and there's only one person in the world who knows what I'm talking about.  She's very busy, doing her own thing on an entirely different continent, yet she still knows more about what's going on with me than anyone else.  I'm trying to be happy for her, and the new relationship that she's in.  Although I'm also starting to wonder if my brain's been going through something more physiological, throwing my emotions out of wack.  Or if throwing my emotions out of wack might have done something to my brain.

I've long suspected that I'm capable of emotional attachment to people. I'm just extremely selective.  When I say "I" though, that's not to suggest I have much control over it.  My mental health issues make it very difficult, but not impossible.

In a way, even worse than that might be the anxiety I get dealing with everyone else.  All the people I find alienating, at every level of interaction. It cripples my ability to navigate society, and if I could do something about that, it would change everything.  I'd be able live, to meet far more people, I'd probably find what I'm looking for.  I've sometimes allowed myself to indulge in elaborate fantasies in which someone helps me achieve that.  I've certainly yet to figure out how to accomplish it myself, so this gives me hope, until I realize what an unrealistic stretch it really is.

So that's part of what's been going on with me, too.  This past week has been very strange, and when I said that it felt like being on LSD, I was not exaggerating, and it occurs to me that this is not a good sign.  Sometimes I wonder if my inability to process emotions properly has anything to do with why I avoid the world.  I'm really not keen on having a psychotic break, and felt that I came dangerously close.

It's very strange, knowing that I'm losing it, knowing my thoughts are grossly irrational, my emotions off the rails, and finding myself completely incapable of pulling it together, for such an extended period of time.  Some facet of my persona was still in there somewhere, telling me to write about it, helping me keep it together, helping me sort through and not completely lose my shit, but fuck, was it looking iffy for a while there.

I'm feeling much better now, but I'm not sure whether I'm making progress or just taking a break before drifting further towards oblivion.  I really need to change my life.  I'm thinking maybe it is time for me to try seeking some professional help, again.