Novels2Search

Chapter 10: Synesthesia

Synesthesia

I swear I cannot make this shit up. Synesthesia, seeing sound. I have that. I have had the most mild version for most of my life. Recently, it's been changing for me. I thought, maybe it's my glasses, but that has never happened before. I start looking around for a reason for this stupid shit... this actually could have something to do with deprogramming my C-PTSD trauma.

Addressing the damaged neural pathways that the trauma caused, attempting to shift them away from the trauma that is essentially a scar on my brain, that, that can fucking make this shit change. I started having a strange kind of tunnel vision the last month or so. Periodically. Not a constant. It comes and goes. The tunnel is tied to what I am hearing and it is something like a pulsating dull colored rainbow circle.

Trying to get better is just changing what is fucking wrong to something new that is fucking wrong. This is very much a can’t win for losing situation. I am so goddamn tired of this bullshit.

This is all changing me and I am not okay with these changes at all. I am sleepwalking more. Apparently I pounded on my moms door at 3am the other day. My mom says it’s happened a few times since I was here but hasn’t been telling me, but telling my sister. My sister finally asked her if she had talked to me about it. Like, I do not know I am doing this. I have no idea at all. Why would you not talk to me about it?

The other thing, she kept inserting qualifiers into the conversation.

“Supposedly you can’t control this.”

“Well you say you can’t control this.”

“I guess you can’t control this.”

Like, why would I say this if I could control it? What advantage does it bring me to say I can’t control it when I could? Does she think I am setting up alarms to wake up in the middle of the night to fuck with her?

I feel like part of me is dying. I don’t exactly know what to think of this at all. My oldest memories are starting to fade. I cannot recall the fine details anymore in some cases. I actually cried a bit today out of joy that they were fading. That the trauma of those years was locking those details into place and now that I am addressing it, they are going away, like how a “normal” mind would keep detail. Just a little foggy memory that didn’t bear remembering anymore.

I suppose the new symptoms brought these things into focus. I am changing and I am not sure what I am becoming. What if some of these things are permanent? Is my vision going to keep getting stranger? Will I be able to even see at some point? Being in this house, dealing with my new deadlines for my appeal, trying to keep everything going when I have no energy to do so, that can explain the sleepwalking through my experience in what Night Jesse does. Heavy stress and anxiety have traditionally triggered an episode.

Is the binaural tapping causing the change in the synesthesia? If it is, how am I going to carry on with this new way of seeing? My eyes have always been shit. My glasses prescription has dramatically changed in the last year and I can’t afford new glasses, so that is a factor in my sight issues, but also when the migraines hit, they can have vision changes as well. I swear, this feels like I have a brain tumor or something, your brain should not be changing this much without something dramatic to the brain.

Everything I see with my right eye feels artificial. Is this therapy actually making me worse?

This morning I called my doctor, I told her assistant what is currently going on and the assistant transferred me to my doctor’s voicemail. It is Easter, I suppose that makes some sense. I am not sure if my condition is not that serious or that my medical care is just that minimal.

“God Bless America.” Fuck you.

How this country believes it is the greatest in the world is beyond me.

Today I went to my psychologist and informed them of my synesthesia attack on Saturday. He seemed a little worried, for some reason I just can’t seem to get to a state of worry or concern. He told me that there is a possibility that Wellbutrin can cause a seizure and immediately told me to reduce my dosage, then he put me back on Gabapentin and told me to call my general practitioner and tell them I need a CT scan and a neurologist. I haven’t showered since the attack, it is Monday, I cannot get to a state of concern about how much I stink. I hate the scent of male body odor, it reminds me of my stepdad, but I cannot see a reason to change it at the moment.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

I called up my general practitioner again and left a second message. They called me back a couple hours later and told me that they couldn’t understand my message, the only thing they could catch was something regarding synesthesia. I calmly tell them about my attack. They tell me they are going to make an appointment for me, that appointment is in a week. They ask me if I have yet to get the ultrasound I was told to get a month ago. I tell them I haven’t, I have no idea what is keeping me going and getting the procedure and the neglect of this has been over the course of years now, even having trouble doing it a year ago in New Jersey.

I have a double hernia in the pits of my legs. My left testicle hurts constantly, a small sharp pain that never goes away. I want to get it looked at, but I cannot find the energy and now, I don’t seem to have a concern about it. It hurts, but it has hurt for years now. One more day won’t matter. I tell the woman, my general practitioner’s assistant, that I am sorry and I haven’t. She tells me, “Don’t tell me sorry, tell your testicle.” I understand what she is saying, but I don’t really have a shift in my state of mind on this.

Roughly ten minutes after we end the conversation the assistant calls me back.

“Jesse when did you have this attack?”

“Two days ago,” I replied.

“Okay, if you have another attack you need to get to the ER,” she tells me.

“Okay,” I say.

“We are going to try and get you in here faster, but if this happens you need to go to the ER immediately,”

“Okay,” I say.

I figure she just filled in my doctor and the doctor knows there is likely something very wrong. I still don’t have the mindset to care.

I am also having a migraine that has the vision from my right eye feeling artificial. This has been going on for months, so it might not be related. I may have multiple ailments and counting. I don’t know why I cannot get into a state where I should be scared, concerned, or worried about what is going on. It just seems like one more thing that I have to keep track of. I think I am just exhausted with life being the way it is. Nothing shocks me anymore. I am out of worry and concern. I feel like I am shutting down.

Tomorrow I am going to fill in my therapist on everything. I forgot about the sleepwalking episode as well. I bet that might have been important. There is so much to keep track of and I am tired of keeping track of them. I have meds I need to monitor. I have alarms that I have to keep my attention on and summon the energy to enact the task each time it goes off. It seems like this bullshit is neverending. Days haven’t gotten easier. The issues have not really improved and overall this is a very dark time in my life.

My doctors seem to be concerned, so I will let them hold that concern for now. When I get to my appointment on the 17th I will go directly to the sonogram department and have them look at my hernia. My deadline for the next appeal is closing in. My law student graduate friend is helping me again and I am hoping that all the letters I have asked for are as supportive as they say that they want them to be.

I am hoping that the judge panel actually listens to my doctors and grants my disability claim. Maybe I’ll see it before I die. If not, I hope that someone continues to force my case forward or use this book to give examples of how horrible our medical and benefits policies are.

My sister and nephew came up today. I couldn’t find any joy in the visit, even when I normally love when they are here. I have put on Frasier again. I enjoy it as white noise. I am likely going to go back to Skyrim again soon. These just feel like I am killing time until I get to sleep and I don’t have the energy to make those moments into something productive.

Actually. I think this is something productive I am doing and I didn’t even realize it. How about that?

Wait. I had some productive stuff today now that I think about it. I rode my bike to the market, bought some groceries, I went to my psychologist appointment, I called my old optometrist in New Jersey to appeal to them to fill my glasses prescription. I even ate today and fed the animals.

This is why I have a daily activity report. Before the attack on Saturday, I had run all my DARs through ChatGPT to find a mean value of what my spell slots are for each day. I punched in every daily point value that I had from March 22, 2022 to March 28, 2022.

MEAN IN WEEKS

These are 1 week totals of my daily activity, can you please create a mean and account for each number being 7 days?

159, 160, 205, 188, 191, 171, 201, 201, 198, 224, 249, 271, 412, 312, 250, 216, 206, 253, 269, 331, 317, 326, 360, 400, 304, 320, 316, 356, 349, 251, 305, 308, 280, 295, 253, 314, 328, 306, 315, 338, 349, 277, 342, 265, 229, 263, 246, 273, 224, 226, 189, 220

Sure, to find the mean of these numbers, we add them up and then divide by the total number of days, which is 7 x 51 = 357.

So, the sum of the numbers is:

159 + 160 + 205 + 188 + 191 + 171 + 201 + 201 + 198 + 224 + 249 + 271 + 412 + 312 + 250 + 216 + 206 + 253 + 269 + 331 + 317 + 326 + 360 + 400 + 304 + 320 + 316 + 356 + 349 + 251 + 305 + 308 + 280 + 295 + 253 + 314 + 328 + 306 + 315 + 338 + 349 + 277 + 342 + 265 + 229 + 263 + 246 + 273 + 224 + 226 + 189 + 220 = 13728

Therefore, the mean for each day is:

13728 / 357 = 38.44 (rounded to two decimal places)

I have 39 spell slots each day. Each slot is a cost for an action of substance.

Walking in 1,000 step increments is 1. Making a meal is 1. Having coffee (because it takes steps) is 1, riding my bike a mile, showering, doctor visits, shaving, working out, snacking, tending to animal needs, taking my meds, doing the dishes, etc. Running my AD&D game for hours is 3 slots, and some other more trying tasks are larger allotments.

I have 39 spell slots.

Knowing the mean helps challenge me each day, but also, I plan to send this in with my disability case appeal. A PDF of all the DARs and my mean as well as how I obtained the figures.

Who goes even one year only doing an average of 39 things each day? I wish I had been doing this from the first day. I know they will just dismiss it, because they are going to dismiss anything they aren’t required to take seriously.

I have 39 spell slots and each day that is the number to beat. I need to beat my high score. I need to keep making progress. I need to get better. I may not have concern, worry, or fear about my condition at the moment, but I do still have a logical mind that understands numbers and a value that is quantified and unbiased. It cannot be stretched or manipulated. It is what it is.

I have 39 spell slots each day.

“Just a piece at a time counts.”