Don't Tell a Soul

For anyone who was wondering, I intend to keep this blog anonymous. I showed it to some people and told them it's me, and as a publicly P-having PI, if you care to know who I am you will eventually be able to do your research to ID me. Nonetheless, it will be a lot easier to write from behind a curtain, even if it's translucent. That said, since I'm growing less uptight about getting busted, I thought I'd share some stories I held back from writing about in the past because they are specific enough to give me away if the right people read them. These are instances when I really just wanted to drop the charade and scream out that I have P. I think they give a good sense about how occasionally surreal my life became.

Can't Hardly Wait pt. 2

Back to the mysterious post a few days ago. I didn't really want to write any details about what I was thinking and what I was planning to do until it was over with. But if you know what the song is about, I can understand being worried. One of my friends did know and sent me a concerned email: "You doing OK?". I explained the post to him, and I'm going to try to explain to you.

Bear with me. I promise this ends well.

Can't Hardly Wait

Climb on to the top 
of this scummy water tower, screamin'
I can't hardly wait

Source Tags and Codes

I'm going to break from the usual fare for two bits of metacommentary. Occasionally I get some feedback on the blog from people close to me (ok mostly my wife).

One thing she and other people have remarked on is the feeling that my blog is "dark" and "a downer", which is mostly of note because it really contrasts both with my personality and my actual prevailing attitude towards my P. I don't want anyone to get the idea that I'm on the edge or anything. But the blog is for expressing a side of me that doesn't often see the light of day. The full extent of my feelings is much more balanced and I truly have something of sense of humor about it, even though it may be a little gallows.

Veronica

I have made allusions several times on the blog about the strange subjective experience of slowly losing control of my arm, hand, and fingers. I am particularly fascinated by the 'freezing' I experience sometimes, in which I attempt to lift my hand from what it's doing and it just doesn't want to go along. I have to put effort, even focus or concentration into getting it to move. This to such a degree that I have to pause whatever else my brain is doing (including talking or thinking) to get things going. I must confess sometimes when no one else is around, I will just grab it with my other hand and actually move it.