Procrastinationpants

I have not done any of the things
Seriously
I have to read and review a 200 page book for eight pages
NO MAS
but
on the other hand
things could be worse

my car could have a) exploded or b) broken down in fartherawaythanBuffalo;
my laptop could have crashed during my comp, and I at least have a shitty backup;
I could have had a comp advisor that was like MENTALILLNESSDOESNOTEXISTPANTS;
I could have no insurance;
I could have not had the support system I has now.

I don't actually think dere is a point to this brog
Mostly I just don't wanna read anymore
And I don't want the first blog on my account to be like BTDUBBS SUICIDE :D
So I guess now it's just tangental and nonsensical
Which is fine cuz I feel like that's part of my personality
and FUCK YEAH BAGELS



EDIT I took all the adderall and didn't sleep and I don't know where I am right now only I mean that figuratively, ya dig?

Same Old Song and Dance

Six years ago today, I tried to kill myself.

I was desperate, afraid, and angry that no one was taking me seriously.

And today, I feel it's not that different.

As this semester has gone by, I've gotten progressively worse. Where I once was able to skim by, I am now unable. Incapable. I literally can't do anything except stare at a poster of kittens for hours on end. To stop the racing thoughts, I've resorted to watching ten plus hours of television a day, just so I feel like I can survive.

I haven't read in months. Well, years really--but I'm talking more specifically in terms of classwork. I failed, literaly failed my Black Studies midterm, which I'm ashamed to say is not my first failing, but possibly the most painful. I just can't think anymore, can't concentrate, can't do much of anything.

I'm 21 years old, and I'm burned out on life already.

I somehow managed to finish my comp, piece of shit as it is, but I got my first academic standards note from the Learning Commons for Contra. Fucking CONTRA. I think it's because I turned a paper in two hours late. Thing is, though, that the night before I had been driving home from a conference in Boston when my transmission fluid started leaking and the hood of my car was smoking. I had to drive three people in my car afraid that my transmission was going to explode, and when I finally got home safely, my first instinct was not "gotta turn already mostly written contra paper in!," it was "holy fuck, I can't deal with all this shit, solution=bed."

There are far worse things happening to far better people, so why can't I just buckle down and do what needs done? Why does this always, always, always happen to me?

Deb Dickey Thinks I'm Fiesty

Seriously, my life is complete.

EXCEPT FOR

the fact that everything is sucking right now.

I am still crazypants.
My comp is only 27 pages.
My contra professor is making hella assumptions and failing to understand just how crazy and fibromyalgiapants I am.

I am spontaneously sad sometimes, but then ten minutes later, I am completely fine.

I haven't read for class in a good three months.

I don't make sense most of the time.

I tried being medicated but that failed on an Homeric scale.
Is there such a thing as a Homeric scale?
Probably not.

But I am trying also to get a fifth year internship so I can fix all the things at Allegheny since they ADDITIONALLY fail on an Homeric scale.
Like most things, though, I am doing this last minute and offending most of the people I am trying to work with.

Goddamnit.

I have been watching the Kitty Cat Dance video for approximately five days straight.

As soon as I am all, okay brain, there is a sufficent amount of Mountain Dew in you, work tiemz nau, brain goes



and then I go



mostly because my brain only thinks on the levels of lolcats and Hyperbole and a Half.

...but yeah seriously I'm actually concerned that a one credit dance course is going to interfere with my ability to graduate.

I Know I Posted Once Already Today...

but can we just talk about the term "liberal elitism?" Where in the FUCK did that come from?

Helloooo, Republicans, when you look at the top 2% of America's wealth, are you seeing a lot of Democrats or other social-justice inclined folk at the top?

NO. YOU DON'T.

You see a lot of cracker-ass white menfolk who get off on controlling most of America's wealth and treading all over women, especially those of color and of lower-income.

FUCK. YOU.

Pennyroyal Tea

Goddamnit, dude.

I've gone through fifteen-odd years of therapy, and not once, once, during that time did anyone stop and think, gee, maybe this girl's got a case of the PTSDs.

-_-

I'll grant that it's a relatively new diagnosis (not disorder, cause I'm sure it's been around for a very long time), but STILL. And I'm even mad at myself a little, for not recognizing that my symptoms so closely align with it.

I think that's why I never ended up doing psychology as a second major...apparently, professors of Abnormal Psych make a point of saying that students should not diagnose themselves because they probably don't have said disorders.

Well, I do.

I finally, FINALLY seen a psychiatrist to get on mood stabilizers, but the whole experience was jarring--it was at a different office than the website online told me, and the office would not PICK UP THEIR GODDAMN PHONE, and the lady at the place I went to that was the wrong place was rude, condescending, and all-around unfeeling. Betch.

So I sat in my car babbling and crying to myself, desperately trying to get a hold of SOMEONE, but everyone in the world wouldn't answer their phone. And honestly, this kind of thing could happen to anyone, but my mental and emotional states are so precarious that the littlest thing is generally the worst thing that has ever happened EVER. And it's frustrating, because I know I come off as melodramatic, but the way I feel and experience things is so goddamn visceral, and that thing in your brain that tells you not to overreact to things is virtually nonexistent in mine.

The psychiatrist man, who I really loved because he seemed like he was definitely a part of 60s counterculture, prescribed me an anti-psychotic. Which made my brain go O.o because I have never considered myself to be psychotic, just excessively unwell. But then he was all, no, it's cool, it's a dumb name, it just means that it will slow your thinking (in a good way) and help stabilize your moods and sleep.

To which I was all, okay.

Problem is that these types of medications take up to two months to kick in. So I says, "Bro, I can't wait that long."

And he says, "Cool, we'll give you this thing that's effective super fast, and then taper you off to the thing that isn't fast but more effective." And then I was irritated that he didn't give me ritalin.

So right now I am spacey as hell, tired for no reason, grumpy, headachey and nauseated, but I'm hoping that all this will magically go away within a week. Getting chemically balanced is something that I've always aspired to, which is an odd thing to say, let alone aspire to, but when you've got the family history I do, just barely scraping by the normal scale is ballin' as shit.

I read back through this and I think it mostly doesn't make sense. And I used the weirdest phrases. -_-

CapitalismSMASH v. Kitten Poster Staring Contest

It's a frustrated thing, this disease, this disorder, because at any given moment I'm at one of two extremes. I can do either ALL the things, or nothing at all. There are days when I can singlehandedly dismantle capitalism, de-institutionalize religion, outlaw patriarchy, read Foucault's "History of Madness" as a backdrop for my comp and run a triathalon; there are also days where my mind and body are so crippled from exhaustion that anything beyond lying in bed and staring at a kitten poster is physically impossible.

Yet there are times of in-between too, times when I am neither crippled nor extraodinary, just average, run-of-the-mill, normal--by my standards, at least. These are the moments I cherish the most, the mundane and everyday. They are also the most hurtful, I think. Hurtful? Painful, I guess, is a better way to describe it. Because I know it will go away and I will be extreme again, I will do everything or nothing, and I will not be a normal girl anymore.

I will be me again.

I will be mad.

And the madness will take its proverbial toll.

Wiggidy Wack

I am expected to care about all the things that I don't have the capacity to care about anymore.

D: