Prozac and Whimsy

Everything is slowing down. Kind of. The panic has all but gone. And while I can now focus on things I’m finding that I need to have almost too much going on. It’s as if my brain just needs to spin at this ridiculous speed constantly.

I’ve taken to calling this squirreling. I flit from one half done thing to another or have multiple things happening all at once just to keep myself occupied. I’ll start telling you one story, get lost on a tangent of a tangent of a tangent (I fucking love tangents) until I either realise how far away from the original thought I am or almost accidentally loop back around.

The last few days the music has reflected this. According to the internets Math Rock is a form of indie rock characterised by  complex, atypical rhythmic structures, counterpoint, odd time signatures, and extended chords. I tell people it’s like the best worst type of jazz but with a pedal board. I’m currently listening to Angine de Poitrine a French Canadian duo who utilise loop pedals, a twin necked guitar and have a frankly alarming obsession with polka dots and papier mâché.

Wikipedia will tell you they are microtonal math rock. I like a sub genre as much as the next guy, maybe even more so as I occasionally get hyper focused on Krishnacore (Hardcore punk but with added Hare Krishna!) But this feels too much. I tried reading about microtonality but didn’t understand any of it and I once read A Brief History Of Time, not that I understood that either mind.

It sounds like controlled chaos and that is what the inside of my head feels like of late. Everything is much, much better. There are blue skies and rainbows and daffodils and sunshine but I can’t stand the quiet anymore. I need something, almost anything, to distract myself with.

I have a small stereo in the kitchen and will play a CD or stream music while I cook or wash up (I have just realised I still need to wash up) I will play music through the PS5 while I am working or reading or just pottering. At one point the other night I had a CD on in the kitchen and something else playing in the lounge at the same time. I play music or white noise while I try to sleep. I listen to stuff in the car. It is like I am afraid to be alone with my thoughts for any amount of time.

This is why math rock is so good. It is so weirdly complex in ways I don’t understand that the squirrel in my head gets distracted trying to figure out what the fuck is going on that the (small) functioning adult part of me can get a foot in the door and a wash will get put on, the bed will get changed, but so far the ironing won’t get done because fuck ironing apparently.

I am sleeping these days. I am getting rest but if I can’t distract the squirrel I end up feeling exhausted trying to force myself to do stuff or at least one task at a time until it is finished. After work today I went to the shops to get some coleslaw as I fancied a jacket potato for dinner. I then saw a quiche (real men eat quiche and pussy) that was reduced so I picked that up. Then I smelled the rotisserie chickens so picked up a baguette (but not a chicken) and before I knew what was what I was coming out with picky bits. And a bananananananana milkshake.

I fucking love bananananananana milkshake.

I’m tapering off the prozac as I no longer need or what to be numb to everything. It’s been a running joke for a very long time about the various things that I am undiagnosed with and I have always liked it that way. But of late it’s either getting worse as I get better or I am getting better and just noticing it more. I don’t like labels and I am happy the way I am now (I brushed my teeth while looking in the mirror the other day) The brain goes brrr (complimentary) vibe is nice but I am starting to get the feeling that being around me or trying to make sense of me must be fucking bewildering.

I just hope someone can keep up. I don’t want to be lonely anymore.