Saturday, December 29, 2012

Day Twenty Two

I spent the day in Bakersfield. I hate Bakersfield. It never gets any more palatable for me, but people keep living there that want to see me anyway.

Shannon's grandmother has been in decline, like dementia not like cancer, for about a year now, and around Thanksgiving, she was hospitalized. Since she didn't die, and we already had plans, we didn't go for that holiday, and since I already had plans with my family for Christmas, we didn't go for that holiday either. But we did go down for a day to see her. I like Alice, and I think I like her better with dementia that before, but that may just be me. I don't mind people who are not altogether in this time zone - they are pleasant companions just how they are. Her children are rather annoyed with her, although not as bad now as they were two years ago.

Shannon's mother's people are external indexers and have poor organizational and/or cleaning skills. Mostly I think they just don't care about dirt that much, but the thing is, those are two traits that can be combined with a trauma and create a hoarder. I have been telling Shannon all about hoarding for the last two years since I became fascinated with the disorder. He seemed to have a good time looking around and talking with his family about the family history, and they have a strong genetic external indexing trait.

I, it turns out, found a new thing with the medication. I had a hard time hyper focusing at Anne's house. She collects collections of collections, so there is far more than any one can look at, and usually, I can just see what I want to there. I wouldn't say that it was ever easy, but apparently, part of the ability to do that is grounded in the anxiety response. I got the cognitive dissonance but not the accompanying physical response that lets me stop seeing it. I'm glad we didn't stay very long. Also, the futon mattress is too old and hard now to sleep comfortably on, but it's still rude to get a motel. I'll have to come up with something before we go back for the sleeping - or remember my trazadone.

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