Before Medical Cannabis: Seizure twice a week.

After Medical Cannabis: Seizure maybe once every month.

Mmmm, dendrite building neuroplasticity.

Anyway, the edible took away the pain. My system didn't know how to handle not having pain, so it gave me spasms leading into a seizure. Then the edible stopped the seizure and the spasms rode out. Also, husband grabbed my left arm and hit some pressure points to distract and redirect my brain. It worked.

Now I have to lie down and coast through 20 mg THC induced euphoria.

I'm preparing again for husband to leave for two weeks. He's an incredibly valuable tech because he always gets his jobs done even when Rudy Giuliani steals his pizza and other A/V tech shenanigans. We all know the important work he does behind the scenes literally all over the country and once in China. But I'm going to miss having him as my personal space heater, and so will the cats.

...husband just gave me a huge macaroon and a smiley kiss,

and my RSD went ๏_๏ ohh,

and the panicked fire in my mind, that aching scream brought on by ADHD hypersensitivity and autistic hyper-empathy, that melted away,

it was like a cleansing rain, my head filled with a ghost of petrichor.

There was absolutely no reason for all that emotional dysregulation, but I love how an act of kindness and food burst it apart. Tears in the rain.

It's not even raining. Yet.

I am watching an old Train concert video. They're singing Drops Of Jupiter and I flash back to when husband and I were dating long distance and that song came out, and he sang it to me over the phone, from Maryland to New York. We would sing Meet Virginia merely because he lived near it but it turned out to be thematically apt.

Our Song is actually two Waterboys songs. But listening to Drops Of Jupiter right now, in 2021, right before our 21st dating anniversary, was a serotonin delight. Hearing that song is an absolute punch to the lovedrunk nostalgia brain.

I need to sleep. I have physiotherapy chiro in the afternoon. I don't think I'll be able to sleep hahaha I'm going to write more fic.

Okay, so, tomorrow is our 15th anniversary, May 22, and I always forget until this day that it's the 22nd and not the 23rd, because we initially wanted a Discordian date pattern for fun. 5/23/05, full of three and five, because five is an important number according to the Principia Discordia. I just try to remind myself that it's the day before that.

It had been a Monday in 2005 and his mom decided the day should really be a weekend. See, she was a florist then and took over planning, and if my friend C. hadn't constantly been redirecting her and including my shaky somewhat apathetic input, it would have been disastrous and my neurologist still insists I got PTSD from my own wedding day, because there was some fucked up rumor milling as well and Adam and I were already losing our minds. I remember that as my walk music started with the theme to The Princess Bride, my parents started walking me at the start of the song, not the chorus, which had startled me so much they'd had to pull me and everyone assumed I was panicking. But I just smiled through the entire thing, appreciated the pagan touches in the Jewish ceremony (for the groom's grandmother, not the bride, you see, hahaha, and broke down in private after the ceremony. So these photos show us internally screaming. But we're also very pretty and very very very relieved.

Year 20: Me and Adam

We started out long distance, me at Purchase Collage in NY and he in the DC suburbs of MD, set up by a mutual friend via AIM and Yahoo. We met for the first time in spring of 1999, as friends, due to my friend J unexpectedly falling in love with Adam and my being too shy to react. But after they ended, he and I emailed and called for months and suddenly fell in love, my first love.

And then when I went home for Thanksgiving 1999 to the East End of Long Island, he flew up to meet me. We had our first in person date in Sag Harbor, where I'd spent my teen years.

It's twenty years later.

We're still a couple of weirdos with autistic ADHD brains full of cats.

(Days before our 2005 wedding) :

(Early Summer 2019:)

Together we are a functional mind unit.

Husband at work, filming a mobile helicopter pad at a NASA event.

(Husband is a project manager and field tech for a IT/AV rental company. He builds trade shows, conventions, video walls, booths, equipment for political stages, etc. NASA likes him a lot. He's been at the unveiling of tech like the Da Vinci surgical robot, etc. He brings home nifty pamphlets and medical information which I can use for fiction writing, and since he's a jack of all trades who is a former EMT and mixed martial artist and his special interests and hyperfixations include physics, astronomy, engineering, and chemistry, I get to bounce ideas off him for angst and realistic injury scenes, plus technologies.)

We're discussing how this could be Stabby The Roomba's new brother, Boomer, if they tape a giant knife to it. Headcanons abound.

Clearly you belong with Mikey or Donnie. Or a Mikey or Donnie type.

I did marry one!

Husband had set up the equipment in the tent and everything but they had to cancel. Hopefully it'll happen Monday morning. In the meantime, he took some awesome pictures.

I admit, sometimes I just don't check my phone.

Usually when I'm not in the kitchen or bathroom, I've been writing my fiction and got pulled into my writerbrain and whoops it's five hours later, even with phone noises and alarms.

Several times a week I take walks around the neighborhood and sometimes I just don't take my phone. Sometimes I just want to walk silently around the block, because because having two dozen disabilities (including cerebral palsy, Fibromyalgia, autistic dyspraxia, hip pain, sciatic and sacroiliac pain, tendinitis, chondromalacia patella plus arthritis) means that my body wants to move and specifically walk despite being in constant agony, and this also means that I will do an ADHD hyperfocus on my environment and plus I do that autistic thing where I count all my steps, and I daydream in a lightly Maladaptive way even as my brain cleverly keeps tabs on my surroundings and foot placement because of the shaky palsy limp and the shorter lame left leg so I don't hurt myself, and sometimes that spastic ataxic hemiplegic leg knocks into my right leg and I trip over my feet but usually I catch myself, especially with my cane - unless the cane gets in the way, then it's just fuckin hilarious when I fall and crash.

(That happened last autumn, in the street near my bus stop, I cracked two ribs and bruised my arm with nerve damage and caused a traffic jam when three people ran to help me stand up and one person helped me start walking home; it took a week for me to reluctantly see the doctor. And a few months later, it happened around the corner from my townhouse on the pebbled sidewalk, where I tore up both knees, my left hand, and the side of my face, plus bruised I my left temple with bruising under my left eye along with my plastic glasses frame being broken, but that time I was carrying mail, not a cane, and I was not watching my foot placement, which is a vital thing that I need to do when I'm walking without a cane. If I don't have a cane my gait is like drunken shuffling or horse stomp. People have complained that I sound like a baby elephant because how could such a tiny person make so much noise when walk down stairs etc. Cerebral Palsy is weird. One spastic diplegic friend is more like a kangaroo rat with her hopping shuffle and another friend with spastic diplegia has a more gentle shuffle. I always made noise because I'm really short and until a few years ago I was very skinny and some of my tallest friends couldn't see me. And now I'm criticized for making noise. It's odd: my husband is six feet and due to his ninja style MMA training through his life he is cat-like and silent, and due to chronic back pains and slipped discs and spine injuries, he imagines balancing tea cups along his spine and he applies meditation techniques that Master Splinter would envy to soothe pain, heal his own wounds faster, and relieve muscle and nerve pain in ways that make me envious. He's teaching me. It's like a kind of magic as its own branch of physics, thus its own branch of biophysiology and neurophysiology Clarke's law applies since magic is a science, art, and craft).

I think my point is that almost all of my friends are online and can check my social media, which I update regularly, and I always mention when I have even a minor injury whether or not it's related to one of the two dozen plus medical conditions. Every epileptic seizure, every fall down bruise, every time I bang against a wall corner or cabinet, because I need time stamps and records since I now officially have Dysautochromia (and hey speaking of Dysautochromia, that Sci Fi show about the woman with Dysautochromia really needs to change "temporal dysplasia" to Temporal Agnosia or Time Agnosia, the layman term for Dysautochromia, because dysplasia is uhh totally not what they think it is LOL, I cannot take that show seriously) and I need to take notes on my own every day life since I no longer have an internal sense of time.

The other point is that if I don't return a call or text or email within a day it means that I've been busy and I'm still alive and despite the fact that I am not working out of the house it doesn't mean that I'm not busy. I've been writing. I've also been doing house chores poorly but I'm doing chords every day, it's how I am keeping track of time in a weird way.

My favorite franchise and biggest autistic special interest is launching its newest television iteration on Monday the 17th and I pasted a note on the wall with the date and time and channel because I know that no matter the fact that the Tumblr fandom will be yelling joyfully about it all day I will forget because ADHD plus Time Agnosia plus autistic memory glitches plus fibro fog will guarantee that I will forget and be on Cartoon Network or FFX like always, and I will need physical reminders to remember that Rise Of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles will air on Nickelodeon on Monday evening.

My brain, when a good friend (who knows my autistic ADHD OCD tendencies) completely rearranges and organizes my personal drawers and cabinets to look the way they want it instead of my personal organized chaos and who then innocently wonders how it looks and how they did because they're proud of their work:

You look like a man who doesn't know what's coming to him.

Thanks, Rise Of The TMNT, for giving us one of the best casual threats ever. I love this show so much.

Less Pain Means Much More Fluff

Now that this epidural in my lower lumbar means far less pain for a couple of months, I might write more fluff than hurt/comfort in my fics.

*pause*

I MIGHT.

The pain clinic doctors are always fascinated by me, because of the cerebral palsy and my unique autistic neurobiophysiology. I really need to write a thank you note just for their amazing compassion, empathy, and willingness to listen to me and my infodumping.

I am feeling much much better. I just need to remember to keep using the ice pack. Also I'm sleepy. But good news, I feel good enough to concentrate on my fic writing.

Anyway, GIVE ME HEADCANONS.

I have decided that any further 2003 fic I write now will be combined with IDW. And 2012, though I tend to write the 2012 boys as soft and gentle the way 2018 turned out to be. It's like I knew, from a year ago. My Cold Fire Rising universe was always Soft Kind Gentle Family anyway. My Brightest Fire Family is the uncertain wary weary sad tragic trauma children with a cold tough father.

*

Re [Ducktales 2017]

Oh hey, Duckworth is back.

LOL, I love when cartoons make epic fun of Criss Angel.

PS, HI I'M WEBBY. (she's so an autistic why isn't it quietly canon already) No really, I'm WEBBY. Get 2018 and 2012 Mikey, throw in some 2012 and 2003 Donnie, add 2017 Webby, and you have me, though I'm like 400 percent shy introvert who pretends to be freakishly social when it's less than a dozen people because that's what people do to be social right? Chatter on about Special Interests until we run out of breath, right?

Iroiro Violet and Iroiro Dark Blue mixed with a little Arctic Fox Transylvania Black. Good news is that I, with both cerebral palsy and autistic dyspraxia, did it myself, which is also bad news, because my hands spasmed the entire time.

Congratulations to me though, for dyeing my own hair with my own spazz hands. My inner Mikey and Donnie are very proud. Mikey would do it for me if they were real and Donnie would make sure the mixture is correct.

Thirty years of having the Ninja Turtles as imaginary coping mechanism friends has helped me realize that I am good enough. I draw figure eights on my arms and legs because the pen tips are sharp enough without being too sharp, and the ink is pretty if there is glitter and different colors. I like having dark hair color like my dad with very light skin like my mom because it makes me think of my heritage full of Mediterranean and Eastern European Central Asian mix. My newest OC probably reflects that. (She's kind of a self insert? She's named after a blend of my maternal grandmother, the actress who inspired my name with her film character, and my childhood nickname.) (Besides, when I was a kid I resembled Audrey Hepburn anyway, and since I was named after her character I feel honored.)

I participated in a silly Facebook discussion in which it turns out that most autistics have had blue hair in their lives.

Anyway, I feel kinda pretty today. The codeine and muscle relaxants have kicked in. My day is surprisingly smooth so far.

I just finished writing a lovely scene in my Other Psionic Michelangelo fic that's out of order but will be ready when I am. (I think I'll share it here, for feedback, because I am turning a neglected Canon Character into a Canon Divergent OC, bringing her over from 2012 to 2003, and she will still be Mikey's best friend.)

Rise Of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles premieres at 6:30 and I'm gathering my Mikey plushies and cat plushies, the gray tabby is Klunk and the calico is Ice Cream Kitty.

Also I need to remind myself to fix the post on my favorite orgonite pendant. It's got shungite and charoite and sodalite and blue apatite and peridot and rhodonite, which are really good for Mikey and Donnie. Plus malachite, which I totally used in a Cold Fire Rising oneshot to boost 2012 Mikey's and April's telepathy.

Also my cow cat Luna is draped across the pillow next to me and doing that snufflling trilling purr that cats do to to their Best Humans sometimes. She's my husband's Kitty while brown tabby Callisto is my Kitty, but when Husband is away, Luna cuddles with me tightly.

Really, the fic writing and TV watching is all I care about today. Shrug.

A few people have asked about my Neurodivergent ADHD Michelangelo fics, so here they all are. I'm also on FFnet but AO3 sorts stuff better.

Stuff is sort of on hold while I finish up a dark angst 2003 fic that I based on a nightmare a while back. Lots of Mikey Whump and Science Torture Beyond Reasonable Limits. Also I post a lot of snippets from a 2016 Depressed Mikey fic here, to test out a new OC.