Creeping Death

There’s a little over a month left in my 30’s for me to live.  After that, it’s the forties and onward.  As this time approaches, I’ve taken a catalogued look at my physical and mental state of being.  I am without doubt persistently over caffeinated, and probably too often drunk.  I have managed to cease smoking, but I haven’t given up nicotine.  I puff away on my little steam-ship e-fags now.  OCD tendencies have been on the rise.  I don’t have an obsessive-compulsive disorder, there’re people who have that bad, and in no way am I going to take any light off their derangement, but I do have problematic irritations.  Let’s say I have OCN: obsessive-compulsive nuisances.  It is to proper horrifying OCD what schizotypy personalities are to schizophrenics.  The biggest nuisance is closing doors.  For any door that has a lock, I practically have to scream at myself to just close the fucking thing.  Man, that’s a nuisance.  And then there’s that typical stove burner shit.  I don’t get why I have that.  It strikes fairly randomly too.  I’ve returned home after getting a few miles down the freeway to check on the things.  That was a nuisance.  Sometimes I’ll tell myself, you’re crazy.  Just let the god damn house burn down.  What have you got in there anyway?  And that relieves the worry some.

I’ve had a few tangoes with sleep paralysis.  I didn’t know what that was at first, which was stupid because I did know all about it.  Luckily, no aliens have tried abducting me, but rats have tried scurrying up to my face for a nibble (dream rats).  I even broke paralysis once and smacked my wife pretty hard to kill one of those rats, but what was remarkable was she didn’t wake up or feel a thing, which I take to mean that even the swat was part of the waking dream.

Panic attacks are fairly normal, although now that I recognize them for what they are, I can reason them away and begin breathing normally, and get my heart to stop pretending it’s going into arrest.  I have lots of sudden and unexplainable sharp pains that flare rapidly up and then die quickly down.  This can happen anywhere on my body from the chest to the foot to the temple to the guts.  It might be part of the panic attacks.  When I get nervous driving I become convinced my appendix is exploding.

And I wouldn’t want to forget about the hallucinations.  They usually involve spiders in the corners of my vision.  They can also involve a dog’s bark sounding electronic, and like it’s speaking to me in a kind of Stephen Hawkings-esque English.

On the upside, my last physical report had me in good standing so I guess I’m not falling apart physically although I do have this disturbing thing that looks like a very tiny dick growing out of my lower left eyelid.  I’m thinking about taking it off using a fingernail clippers.  I’m uncertain as to the wisdom of that move, however.  My teeth have suffered some recently.  I went thirty-nine years of my life without a cavity, and then suddenly… six of the bastarding blights.  But those have been taken care of.  So this then is where I stand as I head into the last month of an age that won’t begin with the letter “F” for the next two decades.  I think it’s looking pretty bright.



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