My friend Suki-chan challenged me to five days where I list the things I am most thankful for. So in no particular order, here they are in a collective list:

  • My family, by blood & friendship
  • music
  • nature
  • books
  • children
  • peanut butter
  • my various concert wingmen
  • animanga
  • the regenerative abilities of the body
  • Hank & John Green
  • the Internet (most of the time, but definitely excluding certain aspects)
  • living in a country where abuse is abhorrent
  • living in financial stability
  • medical and technological advancements
  • inventors and explorers

Rigor Mortis (5/20/15)

Upon waking up
My first thought-
All that I want
Is for you to come back to me
Lay here beside me
And wake up with me

But then I remember
It would be impossible
To hold you forever
Have you hold me forever
Hold each other forever

I cannot accomplish this
Even in dreams
Yet even so, in my heart it seems,
There I can
-cannot help-
But hold you

In this heart
that aches and contracts,
Because that is how a heart cries

In this heart
That quakes then slacks,
Because this is how a heart dies

but without end
So you see, I cannot pretend
Although it’s numbing I cannot rend
My heart to complete indifference

For it is in
-always in-
a state of Rigor Mortis

I Am a Sentimental Sap (10/16/14)

Yesterday was gloriously windy, or was it Tuesday that was so? Whichever day it was, I enjoyed it immensely. Windy weather is my favorite kind of weather, followed by the thunderstorms of Chicago, though I must only enjoy those from indoors. Whenever the weather is windy I think of Alexander Rybak’s “Roll with the Wind” and the Norwegian version, the one I allow myself to sing aloud around others, “Vanda Med Vinden”. It was almost as windy as the one time that it was so windy, I was literally picked up and carried a few feet by the wind. Glorious.

Actually, I think that was on Tuesday. I finished all the homework that was due today, minus watching a short documentary that to be honest wasn’t that important for the class. I got back a midterm and I did quite well on it, though I did not entirely finish it. At lunch I got to hear about amazing WIP stories from two of my friends that sound absolutely fantabulous and I have one from another sent a few weeks ago (I’m terrible, I know, but forgive me because I have no free days in this month until Halloween) and I hope to read them soon.
Once my classes were done for the day I went to the theatre department’s costume sale and I bought a very cute handkerchief/bandana thing. It make me very happy because I had a pink one I was given in elementary school that I was very fond of, but I misplaced it years ago. I still wish I could find it, but something is very comforting about this small scrap of red cloth.

I was invited by a friend to hang out and swim at her apartment along with her and our other friends who could come, and that was lovely. I didn’t go all the way in because I hadn’t brought nor bought a swimsuit but I did stick in my legs. We chatted and shared food and fooled around for several hours.

At the pool today specifically I was hit with the thought while the event was occurring, but also in general a little over a month ago I met some of those new people along with others, whom I now hang out with in a group based on books and other fun and enlightening things.
At the pool and at the mezzanine we discuss endless interesting things and I don’t feel invalidated as a person at all. I feel the stirs of humanity, positive stirs, and they are nice and warm and lovely, just like the people whose company I am privileged to be in. Today’s event was poignantly bittersweet, because I was so purely happy, without underlying ever-present gloom mist, and I haven’t felt this human for so long, I don’t remember having truly let myself be this human for so long, (there may be a few exceptions, but I cannot recall them) that I wasn’t sure if I remembered what it was like, or if I was capable of finding out. It made me want to cry a little, except even when I was regularly human, (aside from the period of time when I was a stuck-up wimp, around elementary school age) I didn’t cry very much. But I had the sentiment, especially today. The scenes are just so normal, and cheerful, and wonderful. Attention and appreciation and today hugs- genuine, and natural. This is the mode of things for normal humans, and it is wonderful to feel something positive again.

Now I just must learn how to take this patched-up wariness and turn it into a sieve; for having reached a breaking point before, I know what my limit is- or rather, hope that was my lowest limit- and know I likely will never get completely rid of my guard (though it is possibly a teeny bit rational to keep one). I just need/want to learn how to keep the wall low, but strong; and make it out of something permeable, flexible, while not porous to all (because I also think that’s the way to prevent myself from that terrible implosion/explosion of before). For ultimately, complete shutout means shutting out goodness as well as the things that tear you apart. By letting myself be permeable, starting from scratch and taking in positive things-so long as they truly are that- then in that way, being more open to emotion and feeling will, through the positive ones, hopefully become the substance of the wall- the liquid protection behind and around; strengthening and fortifying against the things that tear me apart, the positivity of humanity, will hopefully be diminished in power such that they can no longer do that to me.

I think it would be good for me to let humanity in. Since I will only ever be this specific being once, and I can only be sure of this life and what I know of this soul in this body, which is a human body, then for the me that is indisputably here, I think that I should be human. It would be good for me to be human, and the best part is because of these people, I want to be human. I want to be.

Crying & Laughing & Smiling (5/5/15)

Last Thursday, April 30th, is the most recent time (and last time) I can remember laughing, and laughing because I couldn’t help it. I haven’t really since then and I can’t remember the last time I did before that, specifically. Of course I had before, and within the last few months, but honestly I can’t remember.

Anyway, the 30th was the last rehearsal for choir and the director was helping us learn the difference and importance of pronouncing the “z” sound for words like “trees.” Because, as he told us, say you take the line from the famous song/musical “Footloose,” “take me off of my knees.” If you pronounce it with the “s” rather than the “z” sound, what you are singing is… “take me off of my niece”. Thank you for making me laugh, Dr. B.

On May 2nd, I was on a crying jag and sort-of watching Taylor Swift music videos whilst it was happening. I can’t tell if that is helpful or not yet, I’m hoping helpful.

Yesterday I had two more. The first (I think) started while I was listening to the radio whilst driving to school. Whatever the stations were, I sang along to Gavin DeGraw’s “Not Over You”, and I was alright, then Ed Sheeran’s “Thinking Out Loud” came on and while I was listening (didn’t feel like singing anymore) I started crying a little.

Still not sure if her music is triggering a helpful/hurtful process for me (in NO WAY blaming T-Swizzle, I do like her music, truly). I just know I wanted to listen to some of her music yesterday so I put on the album “Fearless” while I was driving to school and then I know for sure from that point ‘til I opened the door to get on the shuttle that was certainly a crying jag.
I didn’t know if I could handle going to class, or did I want to see a friend of mine more, but I did end up going to my first class. And the friend I wanted to see was in the class right after. But when I was in the restroom before the second class I share with my friend, I started crying again a little, but I stopped it somehow and got through the class, although I’m anxious about it because I’m supposed to talk my head off in there (for participation points) but I just couldn’t. Anxiety sucks, yo.

Then my classes were over and I put the CD on again (b/c nothing I felt like listening to on the radio) and I cried all the drive home again. Stopped when I got out and kept my sunglasses on while I let my sister in the house (she forgot her key) so she wouldn’t see. I ached but didn’t cry, made brownies for the choir concert, did the dishes, and went to my room to take a nap before I had to get ready.

Instead I cried again for 40 minutes ‘til I put on Utada Hikaru’s “Simple & Clean” on repeat. Listened to it until finally my brain started to shut off so I could sleep. Except, 10 minutes later my “You should be driving to concert in 10 further minutes” alarm went off. So no sleep. And I was late to the dress rehearsal and my skirt and my shoes didn’t fit and I had to stuff paper towels in the shoes, which then pinched me the whole night. But my shoes would’ve fallen off otherwise.

I was cranky toward my mother because of it. And probably going to drive either just frustrated or crying or both maybe, I dunno, except my dad ran out w/o having put his shoes on first because he wanted to carpool to the concert with me, ‘cause he wanted to see it. So I was slightly anxious because I couldn’t drive as fast as I usually do (which isn’t too horrible I think, max 5 over limit, but then again, y’know, anything over IS over) and so I thought I’d be even more late. But it was very nice of him to come, and although I couldn’t spot him in the audience, I did feel glad he was there by the middle of the concert.

However, our director just makes me smile. I don’t know how, but I’m so glad for it. And once we switched to the other choirs singing, I started to feel better. Some of their songs pained me because I have heartache and of course the general depression, but they were all beautiful. And most of the songs were upbeat with entertaining acting so I did feel enjoyment.

After the concert I met my friend’s mother and brother, and a classmate of mine recognized me and tried to talk to me, but underneath everything I’m sad, and also as a general fact I don’t know how to talk to people. He’s very nice and I was startled, but pleasantly so ‘cause he seemed very pleased for whatever reason, probably because he was able to recognize me, it seemed. I think he’s just a very nice sociable person by nature, but now since I’m anxious and afraid of my own judgement, I’m not going to presume he is. But if you ask my other friends probably they might have that opinion. I’m not usually aware of my facial expressions (because I tend to lack any) but I did appreciate that, so thank you classmate whose name I should but cannot remember.

Between dress rehearsal and the start of the concert  I sent a text apologizing to my mother. And she saved and heated up some chicken and homemade potato fries for me for when I got home. I really have wonderful parents and I love them very much. They are too nice for me I think sometimes, I don’t deserve such nice family and friends but I am so so glad I have them.

Post-dinner, I went on Facebook and scrolled past an article whose title was “What’s the nicest thing a stranger’s ever done for you?” and you know, for once it made me remember something without thinking too hard and it WAS very nice. Last year I went to a book sale at the library without my phone, and I parked across the street and apparently my headlights were on, for several hours (because it’s a book sale, dang nabbit!) so the car battery died. The lady whose house I was in front of told me she noticed it earlier but didn’t know who the driver was or where they had gone, so she was waiting until the time of her party anyway, she waited for the driver (me) to come back. And then she had her sons restart my car and all I had was my thanks but they all said that that was more than enough and it was and still is just a reminder I needed that humans can be kind and I need to be less afraid of them, and of becoming one.

So today I’ve been really sad, and frustrated, but the concert itself and post-concert socializing and remembrance of kind strangers has, for now at least, calmed me a little and I hope my mind blanks out earlier tonight. It’d be such a relief, as it’s been rare for the last month or so, and I’d be very grateful and due to its rarity, would feel like the most blessed top to redeem the day a bit. Although considering the day altogether, I should be content with what I had, so that’s all right.
Sov gott to all!
<3, N

Depression (5/3/15)

So I went to the doctor a week or two ago (gotta check the appointment date) and I’ve been diagnosed with depression. But, I still have lucidity and had a relatively decent grasp over it, y’know, no crying jags or whatever.

Not like I hadn’t wanted to cry. In front of other people, even though *I* have never tried to manipulate anyone, it just feels inherently manipulative when I cry, even though I never make that judgement about other people. I’m a reverse hypocrite. I hate crying in front of other people. By myself, I feel like it’s okay, ‘cause in solitude, tears are a release for me. But I couldn’t. At all. Just aching, but I couldn’t since the the 14th of April. A side effect I didn’t expect. It certainly feels like a sorry state when you WANT the ability to cry.

This past Friday, I finally did a little because someone could be proud of me when I can’t bear being me. I don’t know the emotion behind why I did. Was I relieved? Did it hurt more? I don’t know. Because I hate myself now. More than I ever did before. And I’m afraid of myself now. I’m sad and afraid and I’m self-loathing incarnate. I don’t want to be me at all, but I just can’t get away from myself. Though I, thank heavens, do want to live. It’s weird. I want to live, but I don’t want to be. But that’s impossible. I know it’s good (whatever that means, and for whom I’m still not feeling sure it’s for my own good) but it means, there is no way to get away from myself.

I won’t presume, of course, because that’s what made a whole other snafu in the first place, but there’s irony in that on the 14th I couldn’t understand him. Now I think I do. I’m pretty sure I feel the same way. Now that I’m pretty sure I’m in almost the exact same kind of place, I empathize with the feelings and the difficulty, and thus, I commend him for hanging on, especially as I have support he doesn’t.  The difference being, I had belonged to this reality, but now I don’t feel like I do. I don’t want to, but I have to. Because, there IS no other reality.

The waves of sadness I feel are largely general. This has been happening for a while, I suppose, I don’t know how long exactly but I actually noticed it myself around the 4th-5th of April. And I freaked myself out and it’s frustrating because then as now I’ve got no goddamn clue where my depression comes from. Sure, there’s the life stress and brain chemicals and all that, but if I’ve got clarity and support and I KNOW I’m irrationally sad, why can’t I just control it? It pisses me off because my sadness is like hunger. It lingers in your unconscious, then hits you and you realize “I’m sad” and then while with hunger, you can go eat and that goes away and you’re fine, there’s nothing that just makes that sadness go away.

Well, technically there is, and I know the science of how that works, but why does it? And why do I just get hit with this sadness anyway? I don’t want it. I don’t want it.

What’s bothering me specifically right now is, the medicine I’ve been prescribed, according to what the doctor said when I saw her, was that it was 95% likely to make me feel worse than I had been at the time I saw her. I thought I was pretty bad at that point, so I was afraid of feeling worse, not because I didn’t think I could get through it, but just that school-wise, the feeling worse would occur during finals time. And school is giving me huge stress right now. So, I figured since I had a decent handle on my depression for the most part, and no crying jags like she’d asked about, that I would begin to take the medicine after finals, so that way if I did get worse, at least I wouldn’t have to worry about school or anything else.

Except, yesterday I did have my first crying jag. Which was relieving on one level because I was worried by the loss of that ability. On the other hand, it’s a sign I’ve gotten worse. Now I worry that I should have started the medicine when the doctor prescribed it. Because I think the medicine amplifies your depressed feelings from the level you are right before you start. Which is worsening, I guess. So maybe if I’d taken the medicine earlier, crying jags would have been the worst of it. I don’t know what worse than that is, but I’m great at imagining and fearing even worse things. And now I dunno if I should start the meds now or not because now we’re even closer to finals and I just fucking hate this

I hate this

Everything is agony. “Agony” is perfect because if I recall it’s both anger and sadness. Love and life is agony and I’m not the type to do anything drastic— (I’m actually puzzled as to why I want to live, but I’m grateful for it, even though that, similarly to everything else that’s bothering me, is inexplicable)—but gods, it hurts

Speaking of, if any gods out there feel so inclined, I wouldn’t mind any of you playing around with time and re-creating/reincarnating me as my cousin’s cat. Their lives are not as complicated (not to invalidate you, cats) and he takes good care of them and pets are good for him.

Otherwise, please help me find a way to deal, be it either a return to a cyborg with an anesthetized heart, or angry amnesiac human. Or whatever a “better, fixed human” is. Just…at least help turn my feelings and thoughts off, please.