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Crush enemies, abandon hope, and unleash endless waves of unrepentant sarcasm. |
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There's nothing to see here that's really out of the ordinary. Nothing really terribly interesting either, unless you like griping, gossip, grudges, and possible mental illness. If anything it's some small way to keep myself writing (though you'll see by the dates on the entries that it's by no means an effective way), as well as a means through which I can vent about any number of things that are pissing me off. Occasionally there's pie. Look: I'm not a normal person. I'm suffering from untreated depression and plagued by increasingly frequent migraines that pretty much render me bedridden for days. I've suffered a lifetime of abuse and neglect, and still have to struggle with unfathomable depths of low self-worth, not to mention the eating disorders. I'm a weirdo, a freak, an aberration of nature and human experience . . . but it doesn't make me interesting. So, you can read this if you want. I've got some social commentary that might be a little fun, and occasionally throw in a poem or two, but for the most part it's the ramblings of a stricken mind. Pay no attention to the woman behind the curtain; she's just trying to change her dress. |
| Soooooo I've gotten my introduction written and I'm almost done with my first body paragraph on my A Midsummer Night's Dream paper. So far we've got, mmmm, lemme see here . . . I've got one-and-one-quarter pages written! Out of seven . . . I can do it, all it will take is more of my patented "Longawindy" analysis style. No problem whatsoever. I just hope the paper doesn't suck this time. Folklore is not such a cheery subject, however. I haven't gotten ANY stories on tape, and I don't even know where to begin looking for outside sources on "Funny tales from retail sales" or "How to deal with a really bitchy customer". And Pip has like four pages so far! (pout) I don't even know when this thing is due. I suppose I could look it up, but I'm too lazy. And oh yeah: I need to apply for life insurance before Saturday. My mother's doctor (cramp) told her that all I have to do is list my old Lorton address (see, we moved (cramp) to Orange after I graduated, which is out of Kaiser's normal range but my mother was able to get an exception since we still drive up there anyway, but I feared that I would have to hassle with the regulations, even though I'm in college in Fairfax) and to put down HER cell number so that she can handle them if they give me trouble. I'll probably do it tomorrow. Oh, and Return to Oz is on YouTube in its entirety. I forgot how truly awesome that movie is. Dark, insane, violent, it's the kind of "kids' movie" that leaves them lying awake in bed thinking, "Whoa." What a truly great move it is. (cramp) So to bed, now my pages number one-and-three-quarters, and I'm going to sleep away my cramps. I tried to catch a falling star, but all I got was this damn pixie. |
| Things going well. Finished my non-fiction story for class, Rav and Pengy thought it was good so hopefully my group members and Berg will enjoy it as well. Been cheerful lately, happy even. This is weird for me, but whatevz, I'm not going to question it too much. Think Bradley realizes that he really did hurt me, but it's okay, because he says he thinks I'm awesome (this said during brief discussion about me worrying about the friendship). It's a relief to hear. Damn I'm so freaking tired. Got a ninety on my anthro exam, so go me. That's 21 points better than the last one. Loojs like everyone did better this time, because this bump was only 2 points (leaving me with 92, whoot), and last time it was 12 points. Overall, class has improved, but I has improved more so. *smug smile* So sleepy, so I go to bed. Maybe read for a bit first, since Constance HAS to have her TV on until four. |
| This story just does not want to get written. I know what it will be about, but I can't make the transition from rape-talks to the PETA video. I am thinking about scraping the whole thing and starting anew, but stubborness prevents me from taking that step. I've given up on NaNo. I should have known the moment I signed up that my work for class would suddenly increase in frequency just to spite my efforts. I'm still writing that novel, no doubt about it, but I'm not going to try overmuch to plug out word after word. I'm having enough trouble plugging for the work that I'm turning in. So yeah, the story is going to suck, I need to start on my folklore project, my English paper hasn't even got an intro yet, and I'm going to go insane. |
| Michael Crichton has died. My favorite author in the whole world has just died of cancer. I never met the man, never sent him a fan letter, never heard him speak, and I'm practically in tears. No, check that, tears have officially commenced. Holy crap! I cannot handle this, not at all. I had hoped, anticipated, prayed that I would be enjoying more of his novels for years to come. I still have more to enjoy, as he has written many-a-book that I have not yet purchased, but it's not going to be the way it was, ever again. This man was my god. I wanted so much to meet him one day, to bask in his genius and wonder, and that is now impossible. How can I deal with this? The greatest man to walk the Earth is now being embalmed somewhere and awaiting burial. It is some small comfort to learn that this was a private battle with cancer; he deserved the privacy from all the paparazzi and idiot fan-whores. Michael, no, Master Crichton, you will be missed, not least of all by me. |
| Ahhhh, it's the start of Day Three of NaNoWriMo and I've not even got two pages! Gah, hopefully I can get up to a hundred by the time I turn in. |
| So here I am, a digit higher and a year older. There comes a time in every woman's life when she must look back at her existence and wonder, "Is this where I wanted to end up? Is this what I truly want to be?" Fortunately for me, the age of Adulthood is greatly delayed by college, so for me at least that time has not yet come. This day brings up another dilemma for me, another question that I find difficult to answer: When the hell am I going to grow up? I'm twenty-two years old, and I feel no more like an adult than I did back in high school. Well, that's not entirely true; my two years living on Brunswick have greatly increased my social skills, and while I'm still very shy, I no longer act like a frightened kitten when meeting new people. But still, I have very little desire to move out of the college atmosphere and go out into the Real World. I don't mind the idea of living alone so much; I still dream of running away to New York City with my cats and getting a job at the American Museum of Natural History, and I really want to be on my own doing my own thing. But, the whole "Adult" aspect? Forget it. I don't want to give up simple pleasures. Hanging out with Susie and Josh and Bradley after Non-fiction class, spending time before class pestering Taka and Sasha and Aimee, and being doubly pestered by them, just being able to hang out and fool around . . . For some reason, all of that stuff, the stuff I enjoy, seems like kid stuff. It's not that I think it's childish, just that I can't imagine Adults taking part in it. When was the last time you saw a thirty-year-old try to run up the halfpipe in an empty skate park? What CEO gets together with friends overnight to play Mystery Science Theater while watching terrible horror movies? This is stuff I enjoy, a lot. I like playful banter and silliness, and I have a very real, almost physical need to laugh. I'm just afraid that once I'm out in the Real World, away from university, all of that will go away and I'll end up like the other Adults I've seen: gatherings only to watch sports events or for New Years, fun in the form of a beer or two on somebody's porch, conversation never exceeding local events and gossip. I don't like the idea of that, at all. I know it cannot be too terrible: hell, I'm going into archaeology and physical paleoanthropology, fields for which field research is essential. Field excavators seem like fun people, and the job is nothing short of cool. Still, I just wish that however things end up, I'm still going to have somebody there to vent my problems to, take to McDonald's, and watch Monty Python's Flying Circus long into the night just for the sake of feeling good. I tried to catch a falling star, but all I got was this damn pixie. |
| I took my time off to be mad, and I am all the better for it. I had my anxieties that life as we knew it would change forever and that our friendship would wither away into awkwardness during periods of attempted communication. It was so bad that I even got a ride to and from the chorus rehearsal with Christine instead of him, so I wouldn't make him feel like I was imposing upon him. We didn't talk much, and in fact we spent the night on opposite sides of the room. But in the end I mentioned I would ask him for a ride but didn't want to impose and he just said, "Let's go." We let off Arlindo (another Baritone with whom Bradley has become friends) and then he parked in I and asked, "Are we cool?" All I could say is, "I'm cool if you're cool." And then there was a conversation and stuff about how I didn't want to lose him as a friend, and how he wasn't allowed to back out on me. I'll tell the detailed account of my intended torture of him later, because now I must visit with Taka as she does her homework all alone. I tried to catch a falling star, but all I got was this damn pixie. |
| The conversation has been made, and the question asked, and the verdict reached: Bradley does not like me, and only wants to be friends. All the advances were just playful banter, and he never considered that I might like him when he made suggestive comments. . . . . . . . Well DUHHHHHHHHH!!!!! To be perfectly frank, this is pretty much what Sensible Lyssah has been saying the whole time, and what I've known inside ever since I started pondering our little make-out session. Why, then, would it have driven me so crazy thinking about it? Who knows; I sure as hell don't. But despite this rejection (though that's really a bad word to use in this case), I'm actually feeling pretty good. I felt relieved to tell him and find out his feelings once and for all. I'm no longer going back and forth saying, "Maybe!" and "No way." I don't have to wonder anymore. I don't have to be afraid of what he's thinking about me. It doesn't matter anymore. I mean, GOD! To go from complete ignorance on the matter to absolute enlightenment just feels so good right now. All my fears and anxieties on the matter have grown from me not knowing whether or not it was possible. Now that I know, I can finally stop questioning and pondering and move on with my life. Maybe in the direction of Josh. Josh is pretty cute. Or maybe I can find a hot goth guy. Or that guy in the tenor section who looks like Cary Elwes. Who knows? I'm free of unwanted emotions by the truth. My reaction is a little surprising. I mean, this guy has been my world for the past year. I've been wanting to die over my feelings for him, and even went so far as to feel incredibly defensive against one of my friends who likes him as well. And yet, so far not a tear has fallen. No, seriously, I get that little tickle in my eyes, and my vision blurs slightly for a moment, but nothing falls. And I'm really trying. But then again, this attraction has also been torture for me. That "Chained" poem in my portfolio? That stemmed over my feelings for Bradley. Half my emotional posts on this blogs have to do with Bradley. I've been annoyed with him for his actions, I've been angry, I've been hurt. Right now, my frontal lobe is being smarter than my limbic system, and telling me not to waste any more undue emotion on him. He's still my friend, but he's no longer a love interest. Fascinating how knowing the truth at last makes this so much easier. I do believe I can get over him fairly quickly, if this is not just a trick of the mind and this really will crush my hopes and dreams and drive me completely insane (I'm sure something else will cause THAT). But at least for now, I'm okay. It's like a weight lifted from me when I got the words out and heard him say, "I just want to be friends." Okay, I feel a little teary now. Are they coming? Am I going to cry? I'm tearing, but they're not dropping. Ah screw it, eyes stopped filling and I wiped them empty of excess moisture. So yeah, I'm sad and disappointed, but I feel nothing that makes me want to kill myself. |
| So here I am, about to talk about my fight with clinical depression. You may have noticed that I'm typing this in the Comic Sans font. That's because sad topics are often ignored and shunned by polite society, and therefore result in ostracization and rejection of those individuals who speak of such things. Therefore, I'm going to prevent this shunning by putting this in a pretty package and making the stupid people think it's really just a joke by using a funny font and a pretty color. Hehe, stupid people looking at the package without checking to see what it contains. But, this is also being written by Me, who as you all should know has a matter-of-fact way of dealing with the nastier side of life and a love for gallows humor. I am actually feeling quite bemused as I sit down to consider all the things that make me tick like a cute little cartoon bomb ready to explode any second. So, let's begin: The first thing I notice about my depression is that it is periodically and spatially based. I always feel the worst late at night, typically while lying in bed waiting to fall asleep. Mornings are also somewhat painful, but I can attribute that to the pain of not having gotten enough sleep and the preference to remain in bed and dream over that of getting up and going to classes. Nights are always worse than mornings anyhow. I've also noticed that I'm almost always in my room when I become depressed. Sometimes I am studying at the Johnson Center when the mood comes upon me as well. However, I am rarely very depressed while walking around outside at night. Sometimes I feel stressed, but it is always to a level that is manageable. This combination of night time and dorm room doutbless is affecting me in some way I cannot understand. Hell, I almost never feel unhappy when I'm with people, even the people over whom I am depressed. Another thing I notice about my depression is that I am often very aware of my foolishness of behavior and emotion. There's always the voice of Sensible Ahlyssah coming through and saying, "It's not THAT big of a deal. You knew this would happen. You should not have gotten your hopes up. It's nobody's fault." It is very strange, though admittedly quite funny, to be constantly fighting with onesself. It is also very, very sad. I know perfectly well that I am overreacting, or behaving childishly, or thinking things that are contradicted by the words and actions of others, but I cannot let go of these feelings and be happy. No matter how much Sensible Lyssah talks, Angry Lyssah and Sad Lyssah and Panicky Lyssah do not listen. Sheesh, hell of a way to feel out of control. Thirdly, as much as I want to stop feeling this way, I am afraid to get any kind of professional help. I should have gone to the counseling center a long time ago to talk to Anchal, but I am worried that she will insist that I go to the hospital for evaluation and therapy, and I do not wish to miss classes right now: I have a chorus concert on Saturday, then next week I have Halloween, then I do not wish to lose any time from NaNoWriMo (I'm finally going to write that damn three guys and a chick fighting evil story I came up with when I was sixteen). But, all this is really just an excuse, because honestly I am scared out of my mind even to think about going to the hospital. I also know I should get on some form of medication, but I fear what the effects of such medication will be. Will I lose control like I did in elementary school? Will I lose all emotion? Will I still have fun doing things with Sasha and Taka and Pip and Stef? Will I stop dreaming? I most certainly never want to stop dreaming. I know this is all silly; the pills change the balances of chemicals in the brain. They don't rewrite one's psychology. I also do not wish to have to pay for them. It is hard enough to think about paying for health insurance. That is pretty much all I have to say at this time. Perhaps at a later time I can return and analyze what I have written to see the method in my madness. On a significantly lighter note, however, I am happy to say that I no longer hold a grudge against Taka for liking my crush. Now I just hate myself for ever harboring ill feelings toward a dear and beloved friend. Oh well, the lesser of two evils, I guess. I tried to catch a falling star, but all I got was this damn pixie. |
| So I just changed the settings on this journal to "Registered Users and Higher Only." Why? Because I have a link to my portfolio on Facebook and I don't want certain people to see what I'm writing here. I was content to restrict viewership only on those entries pertaining to Bradley, but I may as well be more careful, now that I have some very mean and hateful things to say. Taka likes Bradley. To what extent, I do not know, but she likes him enough to be worried about people telling and him finding out. I hope to god it's just a little crush, something that will fade before too long, but I know I cannot count on that. And here's why I needed to prevent people I know from seeing this entry: I fucking hate Taka right now. I am beyond furious over this revelation, and despise the very sight of her name. That Bradley might have ended up with Genessey last semester, or with Laran, or even stuck with Ashley, I can handle. But Taka? No. There is no way I could bear seeing her with him. The fact that it is my own friend, someone who trusts me enough to confide in me, going after the man that I love, that just makes it all the more painful. It seems like a deliberate insult to my wounded pride. I know perfectly well that this is in no way a deliberate slight; when I told her that I liked him "a LOT" she seemed rather embarassed. Hell, she even said that I have first dibs on him, something that makes me think that it may be just a little crush and nothing terribly strong. And, again, she is my friend. She's never done anything to hurt me. Hell, she called for me when she needed help getting into or out of costumes when we went shopping on Friday, because the Wardlings were making fun of her. It wasn't so bad then; I felt sad, and quite worried that he might indeed share her feelings, but I was still glad to be out with friends. But the more I think about this, the angrier I get. And I cannot stop thinking about it, either. I'm going to talk to him on Tuesday, before chorus. The primary subject will be the make-out session at Stefanie's party, but I do not doubt that our current feelings will be revealed as well. I plan to find out once and for all if there is any hope that he can care about me in a romantic way. If there is, what joy. If not, the question will be answered, and I can make moves to get on with my life. I can handle "rejection," if that's the proper word to describe being told he doesn't feel that way. But I don't know if I can handle it if I start seeing him everyday with someone I also love. I wish I could just turn off my heart. I don't want to feel this way. And here's the really bad part: I recall him saying something kinda bad about Taka early in the semester. I don't remember what it was, but I remember feeling uncomfortable and wishing that he and the other person (Pip I think) would not say such things about my friends while I was around. It may not have been a big deal: we all occasionally talk negatively about those for whom we care, like us discussing Ray's sleeping habits, or how Aimee would spend hours playing a game and then stress over chemistry, and I don't doubt that I have been the topic of annoyed conversation as well. But, I really, really, really want his negative opinion to stand, and for him to want nothing to do with her outside of friendship. I know, it's horrible: I want one of my friends to be scandalized in the eyes of another so they don't hook up. I hate my emotions. I want to turn off my affection for Bradley, and get over him once and for all. Maybe when I find out for certain whether or not he likes me, I can start, but I really wish all this was over with. |
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