Already I’ve lost my place and forgotten what I was going to write. As I went to save this as a Word document to my hard drive, I saw some organizing I had to do – files in the wrong folder. Got to keep my data organized if not my home or my mind. At least this is something I can control or that I want to exert some control over.
So…what I was thinking and decided to get down on paper is how I enjoy daydreaming. I used to daydream or dissociate for hours a day while picking my skin, resulting in horrible sores on my face, chest, and arms. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the picking and I enjoyed where my mind went. I did not enjoy the damage to my skin. That I was ashamed of. I would try to undo the damage with OTC treatments, with antibiotics, and cover it up with makeup. But the damage was done and I have scars to show for it. Luckily my pock marks are relatively mild. My skin fair, so it does not scar as badly as skin with more melatonin.
Why did I enjoy the daydreaming so? Because, quite simply, I love living in my head, in the world of ideas. I love imagining myself speaking to others. My thoughts often in the form of speeches or interviews. I being the one speaking or the one being interviewed. Suppose these imaginings are somewhat grandiose. Though, actually, I believe that someday I will be doing some public speaking. Someday I will be the subject of interviews. Perhaps. Perhaps not.
One problem I have had, though, is that I’m often not sure if, in looking back, I simply thought something or if I actually told someone else that thought. That is, in the moment, I know that the conversation is simply in my mind. I’m under no delusion that it is actually taking place anywhere else at the time that I’m thinking it. But in retrospect, my memory is fuzzy and I’m not sure whether I shared those thoughts with say my husband or someone else. Did I just think it? Or did I actually say it? If I did say it, to whom? I have no idea. Most of my ideas I keep in my head.
Though right now I’m writing them down. That I should do more of. Simply writing. Perhaps less reading of blogs and articles online and more writing of my thoughts as I think them.
I think of Jenny Lawson’s blog The Bloggess, and how she does not answer comments. I remember her post about how she simply can’t write what others want her to write. That her blog is her house. I must think more about how I want to arrange my metaphorical house. My mind, my time, my blog, my social media activity.
If I’m to venture out of my house, off of my couch, and work in the real world, I will not have the time to spend up to 14 hours a day on social media. Perhaps some days up to 16 hours. I know I spend an excessive amount of time and that it is not healthy. It is excessive. It is triggering of hypomania when I overdo it.
So since I volunteered last week at NAMI Orange County and learned that someone recently resigned, my mind wrestles with the problem of data management for the position and for the woman I volunteered for last week and will again tomorrow. I love database design and find relational databases far better tools for managing data than spreadsheets. Spreadsheets are simply easier to use. Spreadsheets are the best tool for calculations. Numerical data. Relational databases are better for data for which there are complex relationships, one-to-many relationships, multiple relationships. So, I may just publish this stream of writing, writing I did to empty my mind onto a page, into a Word document, as a blog post, and later take another look at designing a database which users could access via a web browser and online login for NAMI Orange County’s consideration.
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