the most recent herbal residue outbreak

I tried to get my car inspected a few weeks ago.  But I have these plastic trash bags covering my car seats.  So I took them off for the inspection.  I failed the inspection for a couple of reasons, so I will have to do it again.

 

I didn’t get around to putting trash bags back on the seats.  So I drove around without them for a while, a week or two, I forget.  And I think I was probably starting to get sick around that time, so even a small easy project like putting trash bags back on my seats was too hard for me to do.  So… the herbal residue contamination gradually got onto the clothes I was wearing.  Then I tried to wash them, which, as always, just spread it around to the entire piece of clothing and the whole batch of laundry.

 

So I’ve been wearing these contaminated clothes now for several weeks, and it has altered my moods and emotions.  I have had the ‘excessive friendliness’ or ‘excessive cheerfulness’ phenomenon several times, and some people at McDonald’s jokingly asked me what drug I was using and whether they could have some, because when I am that cheerful it seems like I’m smoking pot, which I am not.

 

What bothers me about this is that it is unreliable and inconsistent.  As soon as I put clean clothes on again, my mood will go back to being, well, whatever I am when I am not on drugs.  I am much more serious and not as friendly and cheerful, and I am more antisocial.  People will always wonder why my moods seem to swing and to change so much and they might even think that I am ‘bipolar’ or something.

 

Today I bought some car seat covers.  I didn’t want to get them – I had looked at them a few months ago, and decided that I wanted something made of vinyl, and they only had fabric ones.  But today I bought them anyway.  I had been trying to get myself to go to the fabric store, and buy some of the clear vinyl that I was imagining – I already went to the fabric store and found exactly what I wanted, but I didn’t buy it – the smallest project, no matter how trivial, has been too difficult for me, if it requires thought and effort.

 

To be realistic, I decided:  yes, it would be nice to have the vinyl, yes, it would be cheaper, yes it would be an easy and simple project and I could even use a stapler or something if I didn’t want to stitch the vinyl – but even that simple project was too hard for me to do, and if I had unrealistic expectations of being able to do something I couldn’t do, then it would never happen.  So I bought the seat covers, even though they were more expensive and not made of vinyl.

 

I’ve been having hypersomnia too – sleeping for a really long time, and having a hard time waking up.  That tells me that one of the drug residues is St. John’s Wort, which I already knew.

 

I will probably have to buy new seat covers eventually, and spend more money.  In the long run, I would like to reupholster the car, but that will be after all of my contaminated belongings in storage have been moved around, cleaned off, or thrown away, which will require me to drive them around in the car.  Not until after that’s all done will I reupholster it.

 

I think there were a few other things I wanted to say, but I don’t remember them right now.

 

Hopefully, since I got the car seat covers, and some new clothes, my moods should go back to the non-drugged version of me.  I wish I could explain it to people, I wish that they could accept it and understand it and forgive me for having strange moods for weeks at a time, and of course, sooner or later, I will want somebody to help me, but I am reluctant to ask for that right now – I think I would actually pay somebody money to help me clean up and throw away and sort through my stuff – mostly, I just need moral support.

 

I don’t need somebody to agree with every word I say, or believe everything I tell them without question.  I just want somebody who will at least listen to it, take it seriously, and possibly disagree, but at least talk about it without this angry rage explosion like what used to happen when I would talk about certain subjects with my ex-boyfriend.  When we tried to talk about certain things, he just couldn’t talk about them at all without some gigantic outburst and a fight.  People don’t have to just passively accept everything I say, but I want them to listen and talk about it and ask questions, without dismissing the whole subject as ‘crazy’ or shouting and screaming about it.  I’m mentioning that because yesterday I wrote about how I want people to respect my ideas, but that doesn’t mean that everybody is required to agree with every word I say.  The herbal residue contamination phenomenon is so strange and obscure, most people don’t know that it can happen.  They don’t know that it’s possible.  They don’t know how severe and life-ruining it is.  They don’t know that the strange things I’m doing are done for a reason, like throwing in the garbage a lot of my belongings because they can’t be cleaned well enough.  They wouldn’t believe how hard it is to clean something, and how tiny a quantity of residue is still enough to cause a severe reaction.

 

It’s just like a stain or an odor that you can’t get out of fabric.  If you’ve ever washed a red shirt with white shirts, and saw all of your white shirts turn pink, and they stayed that way forever until you bleached them – it’s just like that.  But you can’t bleach everything, and bleach doesn’t break down an active drug compound.  It might change the drug into some other drug, but it is still a drug that will cause a reaction.  I already tried to break down the drugs using bleach and chemicals, and often, it made them into something EVEN WORSE.  I can’t explain why it’s able to stay in the fabric, but it’s also able to let go of the fabric and pass through the skin.  That would imply that it’s able to come out if you only wash it a thousand times.  I would agree with that, but I already tried washing my laundry a thousand times – I remember, I went to the laundromat and I washed the same batch of laundry maybe five or six times in a row.  I sat there for hours and hours and hours.  When it was all dry, I touched it and I wore it, and I still had a very severe reaction.  I don’t know how many hundreds of times it would have to be washed.

 

I have to go – the library is closing….

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