Fuck it.

I'm in pain. Fuck it.
I'm having extreme mood swings and hypomania triggered by my steroid injection. Fuck it.
It's hot and sunny outside, and hot, sunny weather triggers migraines, anxiety and all kinds of other shit for me. Fuck it.

Today, I just kept walking.

My original plan was to go to the big Barnes and Noble on campus to write, but the vibe there just wasn't quite right. It wasn't cozy. It was loud and bright and noisy. I decided to go in search of somewhere more conducive to writing. I knew that Kafe Kerouac, a place I haven't visited in almost a year, was a good place for me to relax. It was a mile walk from the B&N. I thought of taking the bus, but for only a mile, it seemed a waste. So I just kept walking.

I walked slowly. I used my cane. I made a couple of stops along the way. I went into a shop I'd been meaning to check out, and purchased some incense, and pet their adorable dog. Then I continued on.

I started to feel panicky, a little light-headed, a little nauseated. But I kept walking. I stopped at a drug store to pick up a bottle of water. I sat and drank it, and then continued on my way. The thermometer says it's only 82 degrees, but it feels more like 90 in the sun, and there's no breeze. I just walked a little slower. By the time I got to Kafe Kerouac, I was absolutely exhausted. I sat there for about five minutes, breathing deeply, before I went to order my coffee. I felt better.

Right now, I feel great. I feel great even though my back still hurts, and I got official news of my defaulted student loans (totaling almost $40k), and I have many more hoops to jump through in terms of my medical problems.I don't think it's just the painkillers. I think it's because I made a decision to conquer many things that normally keep me from venturing outside. Maybe it's a hypomanic episode, I mean, I did walk about 2 miles at 1:00 this morning, too, but isn't it better to expend this energy pushing through my limits than going stir-crazy in my room, letting my mind twist my thoughts into all manner of fearful things?

I feel my gods with me today. I feel my strength, the strength that comes from my spiritual being. Hypomania? I don't care. It reminds me that I am still alive inside, that I am more than my physical or emotional limitations. That I am still a strong and beautiful person, worthy of love and the good things that life can offer me.

Oh, I know that I will pay for this excursion with more pain and fatigue later. That's how it works. I just decided that I don't give a flying fuck. I'm so tired of sitting around doing nothing because of what happens later. Life is worth living even if there are consequences. Pain isn't going to kill me. Pain is just pain. It is a physical thing. It isn't a state of mind or spirit unless I allow it to be so.

I want to look back at this entry later, when I am feeling overburdened by my issues, the volumes and lifetime subscriptions I have to emotional and physical pain, brought about by everything from genetic predisposition to past emotional trauma. I have the right and the power to take these "issues" and recycle them, use them as fodder for a new me.

Except it isn't really a "new" me, is it? It's just me, how I was always meant to be, who I am inside. My spirit. My heart. They live and burn, despite all of this nonsense with my back and my head and my scars and whatever damage I have accumulated in this life.

Fuck all of that.

I want to be me.