There's not even poetry

I had last weekend to catch up on rest, then spent the long weekend with Tucker for a one-night date in town. It was a lovely date -- we got picnic food into a hotel and watched most of Good Omens 2, talked some, snuggled lots, had some nice sex. It's sounding like he's moved into wanting the same kind of emotional connection that I've wanted and while I'm kind of skeptical about it on some level -- is this one more go-around on the roller coaster? -- just the ability to have these kinds of conversations is allowing me to relax on many other levels.

You wouldn't think I'd need a recovery day after mostly lying around in bed and then a hotel room all long weekend, but this morning was more weird body stuff, so I didn't get into work till late. I'm starting to get worried. I have an appointment with the sleep specialist coming up to maybe do the round of "do a sleep study, get a cpap because they won't diagnose anything without a cpap trial to rule that out even if it's super marginal, after the trial start to look into other things". The amount of time everything takes is staggering.

This morning I could move my arms a little bit but not lift and control them for awhile. I never really think to track my ability to move my legs, or to roll over. I can definitely control my breathing during these times and I'm so grateful for that: when I used to get full-on sleep paralysis in my teens the worst part was being unable to take deep breaths. At least now when I feel like I can't breathe I can move the rest of my body and vice versa. I also have this really intense sensation on my shoulders and upper arms, which I've had on and off and associate with the sertraline but who knows? I'll likely have to go off that to sort this whole thing. Hopefully there's some sort of room for the ovary-suppressing drug while I'm doing that.

I think I'm more scared than I'm admitting about this? I'm feeling pretty checked-out today and I'm not sure if that's protective dissociation around that fear or whether it's just my brain slowly decaying.

Still, last night I walked in my garden a little. I settled a new rooster, a brahma who's still very tiny, in. I snuggled with dogs and cats, and I was happy.

Now my mind is just quiet, being present, waiting.

Generative A(ctual) I(ntelligence)

Honestly a lot of my autistic masking seems to function like AI, where it takes likely things instead of factual things and makes a reasonable narrative from it. I also have a translator state, where I soften my actual self, but that takes a lot of brainpower. Saying the expected or reasonable thing, even if it's not factual, can happen easily when I'm caught completely unprepared.

Eeeep

Just pulled the trigger on a vacation, mom's going to farmsit for a little over a week while I do pagany stuff, visit a pottery friend, visit Tucker and his new cat, and then finally come back up here.

We'll see if I survive this.