Diagnosis

Although I'm still the same, just having a diagnosis makes things better, somehow. Makes me seem more reasonable. There are other people out there like me, I am not alone. And as Steve Eley says here, now I can work with my known quirks, rather than trying to suppress them. Not that I was doing a good job of suppression anyway, since then suppressing them became an obsessive-compulsive focus... oh, recursion.

The diagnosis was accompanied by the observation that I have "incredible willpower" to function daily at the level that I do. Hooray!


This post's theme passive verb: to be neaped. That is, to be stranded aground by a neap tide (of course!).

Crutch fetishism

Yesterday as A. was walking me home, a beggar heckled him, joking that A. was sketchy for picking up a gimpy girl. A. played along with the joke, as is his fashion. The beggar escalated the heckling, and A. matched him.

This eventually reached a point where I was laughing so hard that I could not continue to crutch, and had to stop walking. To laugh until I could suppress the hilarity enough to be able to move.

Then we ate chocolate and discussed the fertile, manifold possibilities of crutch-fetish pornography, with reference to earlier conversations about octopodes. And I was happy.


This post's theme word: erethism, "excessive sensitivity or rapid reaction to stimulation of a part of the body, esp. of the sexual organs" or "a state of abnormal mental excitement or irritation." I am delighted that this single word has both these senses.