Thursday, September 22, 2011


Since I began my copious doctor’s visits back in 2004 for depression and depression-managing pills, I have been told many false things about “dealing” with depression.

  • If the source is not from an event or incident or person in your life, there is no cure.
  • Sometimes medication is the only way to manage depression and you will have to stay on it for the rest of your life to function like a “normal” person.

This is complete bullshit.

Friday, September 16, 2011

Must be a lie.

This cool, ideal-Autumn-like weather has made me nostalgic for fall at Clark University and autumns past. It reminds me of having short, spikey, brightly-dyed hair and how I miss that and am constantly tempted to do it again, but don’t because of the ridiculous upkeep required. I never bothered to bleach my roots before, but now I think Fall of 2008, wearing a jacket I made and pants I embellished.I would. It reminds me of my Clark-fashion, and makes me wonder if I could get away with some of those outfits here in the office. Combat boots paired with something nicer, maybe, but the Harley Quinn leggings probably wouldn’t pass even with a nice tunic or long shirt.


Thursday, September 08, 2011

She got sunset on her breath now

I have not jabbered enough about the move, have I? I know you’ve really been missing my rambling…

Today marks 1 week of being home—that is, in our own apartment. Boyfriend & I are very happy here, despite having spent more money than we’d initially hoped to (security deposit & last month’s rent at lease signing). We were gifted with some wonderful starter/basic kitchen items by his mother that are working out great. I can’t express how frickin’ pleased we are to finally have our own space. Last night, we hung out on the couch, listened to music (Phoenix and Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeroes) and read. Once we have a lamp in there (I read by Kindle-light, he read by dining room light), it’s going to be such a nice hang-out space.

I just—I can’t even—words cannot express my joy over having this place. I was so happy and excited last week, prior to, during, and after the move, that I had an overload of some kind of happy brain drug and was excessively energetic, happy, but unfortunately also snappy and irritable. I crashed, emotionally, one evening at the end of the week, and am now tired and trying to replenish my stores of whatever it is I burned out on. Adrenaline?

Things I’ve learned lately:

  • Pyrex dishes with covers are awesome and so grown-up looking for bringing lunch to work. Plus, y’know, you can heat them up and clean them easily.
  • Rainy days at a corporate office means getting in early so you can grab a parking spot close to the door (and leaving early as a result, so you can go home and snuggle). I got a spot right outside the door today, since a lot of people don’t start working till after 8:30am. I try to get in by 8.
  • Driving my mom’s car (‘98 VW Jetta) after primarily driving boyfriend’s ‘05 Honda Civic is WEIRD. The clutch pedal is high, the seat is high, the steering wheel is TINY, and it feels like the power steering is too “on”, so you have to turn the wheel more than you’d expect to make turns. I dislike it, but it was fun to drive to work this morning (rather than holding up traffic on the slow, wet scooter; it rides very slowly in wet weather).
  • I think I’m almost ready to stop therapy again for a while, or to seek a different therapist/kind of therapy. I’ve found it helpful to talk to someone, but now that we’ve moved, I’m feeling a lot of the stress I had before evaporate. I’m just not sure I feel that it’s entirely necessary to go in order to function well-enough to get by week to week anymore. I think that I may go one more time in a few weeks and discuss this with the therapist before I make my final decision. Her response will probably affect my decision, as has been the case in the past (I left a therapist who strongly insisted I needed medication & talk-therapy, and while he may have been right, his approach was too strong and, I felt, inappropriate).