I have been preparing for a long time.
Last night I had a huge seizure, leaving my family thoroughly freaked out. Again. My mother in law could only deal with it by presuming I was being ridden by an orisha. So I sunk into that and got a horrible vision of utter blackness. Nothing. Two huge black empty eye sockets staring at me and me falling into them.
For a series of reasons I won't belabor here, but which are irrational, I understand this as the end of civilization. I feel it coming and the impending U.S. election is pretty much the last shot of saving what we've got. If Trump wins, that's it: we can say goodbye to any semblance of value for human life in the world. Even if he loses, it is going to be ugly and touch and go.
So, sixty days.
I have decided to dive into work, avoid eating as much as possible, avoid talking with my loved ones. I am pretty much assuming this is it. I will be trying to get my affairs in order, as much as possible. If Trump wins, I may not kill myself, but I want to be prepared to do it. I want to have my endocrinological system completely fucked up by crash dieting. I want my blood sugar levels to be down around seventy. I want to be sleeping when I am not working. Get the apartment done. That is also a priority.
As soon as my affairs are in order and I have my grades turned in, I think I may go walk about: hit the streets with no money or protection. See what happens for a week. See if Covid-19 or street violence might take me. Go with a sleep pad and a bunch of nuts and dried fruit. Just enough to keep me mobile.
We'll see how I feel about this in sixty days. Mood swings might bring me back, but for now, there's something broken in me. What my partner did last night... well, it makes me realize that she thinks I am already lost and living on borrowed time. She is right. She lost me.
Last night I had a huge seizure, leaving my family thoroughly freaked out. Again. My mother in law could only deal with it by presuming I was being ridden by an orisha. So I sunk into that and got a horrible vision of utter blackness. Nothing. Two huge black empty eye sockets staring at me and me falling into them.
For a series of reasons I won't belabor here, but which are irrational, I understand this as the end of civilization. I feel it coming and the impending U.S. election is pretty much the last shot of saving what we've got. If Trump wins, that's it: we can say goodbye to any semblance of value for human life in the world. Even if he loses, it is going to be ugly and touch and go.
So, sixty days.
I have decided to dive into work, avoid eating as much as possible, avoid talking with my loved ones. I am pretty much assuming this is it. I will be trying to get my affairs in order, as much as possible. If Trump wins, I may not kill myself, but I want to be prepared to do it. I want to have my endocrinological system completely fucked up by crash dieting. I want my blood sugar levels to be down around seventy. I want to be sleeping when I am not working. Get the apartment done. That is also a priority.
As soon as my affairs are in order and I have my grades turned in, I think I may go walk about: hit the streets with no money or protection. See what happens for a week. See if Covid-19 or street violence might take me. Go with a sleep pad and a bunch of nuts and dried fruit. Just enough to keep me mobile.
We'll see how I feel about this in sixty days. Mood swings might bring me back, but for now, there's something broken in me. What my partner did last night... well, it makes me realize that she thinks I am already lost and living on borrowed time. She is right. She lost me.
