Consciousness

In the morning they are giving me injections into the nerves in my lower spine. The injections do not bother me. The anesthesia that takes away my consciousness scares me. I might not wake up.

I am worrying about the general state of my consciousness for other reasons as well. I am having fantasies in print of stabbing Trump protesters. I am 73 and having a hard go walking at the moment. So while I am serious, the whole plan is silly. At least for now.

So my Shrink has a word for what I am doing at the moment. I cannot remember what the word is. Damn. I have a mood disorder. I once ran someone over with a car. I have to work at living a little differently than others. I have to notice myself.

I am getting caught up in the air of violence coming out of my TV set. Even though they say the steroids into the spine will not make me manic, they are full of shit. Less manic than other forms. Thank God for Ativan.

I started reading about the Shoah and Hitler when I was about 17. I read William Shirer's The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich in 1960. I read all the books about Evil and Zen that followed. I am a well read maniac. The Republican Party is scaring the beejesus out me. The Trump rallies are like cruelty parties. I am a Polish Roman Catholic. I know about cruelty parties. I have been in the middle of a mob of good old boys. Scary.

So, wish me luck. In spite of my whining, I will be fine. And my dropped foot and pain will have further improved. And Shrink is calling me tomorrow. I still want to stab people. Thank God for Ativan.