Crazy? Who me?

I've been pyschotic lately. Actually not. Not according to the definition for psychosis on Wikipedia. But I've felt like I'd like to be pyschotic. The definition says psychosis is, "a mental state often described as involving a 'loss of contact with reality.'" For the past couple of weeks I'd have really benefited if I'd lost some contact with reality.
Most people know I have noise issues. They've seemed magnified lately. And I've had extreme thoughts such as selling my house, quitting my job, and moving to some place called Quietville. If it existed - I'd so be there.
So then one day after I made a moderate rant on Twitter about my neighbor breaking the sound barrier with his Television (or something) my mom retweets saying, "I just googled Noise Sensitivity Disorders.... yikes!"
Thanks, Mom, that's encouraging.
So I google it too.

And believe it or not! There are people out there who have way bigger issues with noise than I do. Like they nearly go insane if they hear people eating. That makes me feel better. A little bit. I mean, it doesn't solve my noise problems; dualing sound system booming from both my neighbors or the three or more neighborhood dogs who are like the energizer bunnies of barking. They keep going and going and going (and going). But I don't have small noise sensitivity, just big noise. So far. Also I don't have anxiety attacks. This also is good. Very good. I'm feeling more normal all the time. Knowledge is power. And other cliches.
One of the sites I scanned about NS (noise sensitivity) said that some NS issues can be traced back to autoimmune disorders. Ah ha. This makes sense. I have one, it's called Rheumatoid Arthritis. RA and I are in the process of terminating our relationship. Currently we're working out the details on who gets the house after the divorce. If I sell it quick and move to Quietville RA is gonna be SOL. But no, really, I do notice that when the arthritis flares up loud, persistent, invasive (tell me how you really feel?) noise bothers me more and I feel more irrational to it.
So maybe the trick is to acknowledge these subtle flare-ups and learn some techniques to create quiet even when it's noisy. My dad suggested EFT and I think that's a good idea. Thanks, Dad.

While I'm totally self-analyzing here let me also say I think that I let myself sink into a slump. Today my mom said, "Even baseball players have slumps. Maybe you're just having a slump too." I can understand that. Great conversation, and I was all about the baseball analogies until we got onto chewing tobacco and ball scratching.
So yeah. Moving on. Math has never been my strongest subject but here's a basic equation:
Noise issues + slump = bad news.
Normally I'm all over my goals. Listing them and taking names. But for about two months I've been a little meh. Most of the time when I encounter a lack of motivation I can fix it by giving myself a good figurative kick in the pants. Lately I haven't felt like it. My kicker musta gotten broke. Or more to the point I've been a slacker. True. Sad, but true.
This doesn't exactly mean I haven't been doing anything but sitting on the couch watching TV and eating potato chips. It doesn't mean that at all because number one I don't get television service, not even the Spanish stations since the networks switched to digital, and number two I don't eat potato chips.
But what it does mean is that I haven't been sticking with my goal of writing at least one hour every day.
Finally last night I ignored the tempting pile of books I have out on loan from the library and went upstairs to work on my own novel. Which I hope will be loaned out to other book lovers (aka readers) one day.
The thing is, I love writing, but like exercise, often times getting started back up is the hardest part. Sometimes turning the computer on can be the hardest part. Sometimes I just need a slump buster or a good old kick in the pants. Last night was my Slump Buster SWAT team's first strike. Tonight Slump should be retreating in fear. Adios, Slump, I'm getting back to work!