Hmm. I think getting involved with my ex was a mistake. He's a good guy. Heck, he's a great guy. He's funny and smart, plays beautiful guitar, he's a great artist, a whiz with computers, and when he's happy he lights up the whole room. Everyone I know values him as a friend and a confidant. We all love the hell out of him. But boy is he depressed.
Depression is a hard thing to understand for those people who haven't had it. It's not just someone who is sad. It's a painful disease, a mental illness. The thing depression really does is it makes things important. Things that shouldn't be. When you say to someone who is depressed, "why don't you just get over it?" what you are unknowingly saying is, "why don't you just forget everything that's important to you like it never mattered in the first place?" A lot of people think that you can just snap out of depression, you can't.
I explained it to one friend this way. If, God forbid, your husband died, you would be devestated. What if someone came up to you the next day and said 'why don't you just get over it?'? Not only would you not get over it, you'd tell them to go **** themselves. And then you'd get pissed off. Because your husband is important to you. Even if you could survive without him, he was a huge part of your life and you loved him and it's important to grieve for that. Because some things even if you will get over it, it is important to grieve. And that's what depression does. It makes everything seem that important. Even if it wasn't vital, it seems so big in your world view that it's absence needs to be mourned before it can be filled. It can be something simple, like no icecream, or something serious, like breaking up with a boyfriend or girlfriend. Whatever it is will make life seem so unfair, and just letting it go is letting life get the better of you.
What I'm generally trying to impress is that it's very, very hard to cheer up someone with depression, and it's a pit that they're not easily pulled out of.
But then, if you let them indulge it too much it's enabling them, and they spiral downwards. The more attention you give to their personal vendetta against life, the more it validates their concerns. But if you pull away too much it again validates their worries that things don't ever go their way, as proven by the loss of someone they care about.
It's a very fine line between helping and enabling. Dealing with someone who has depression is a minefield. It eventually becomes a fight to stop them getting any worse, and it feels like their need for you is so selfish. But it's not. It's an illness. They are very sick and need treatment.
I'm saying this as someone who has suffered very badly from manic depression. I know the correct term is bi-polar disorder. But it's manic depression. In my manias the whole world was supercharged and brilliant. In my depressions killing myself was the preferable option to admitting I was depressed over nothing. I recovered throguh massive lifestyle change, help from my friends, courses of antidepressants and heavy therapy. It's an amazing feeling to be normal and be able to handle day to day life.
But this whole post has actually been a tangent to my original point. My ex. He's now decided that he would be happy if he just had me back again, because despite living in paradise with a good job and friends and family and everything a person could hope for, he's decided that life is hell because he has no one to share it with. *sigh* Time to figure out wtf to do.
"So..... you got the goods sexy girl? *wink* by the way if your husband doesn't give you head I'm willing to help lmao. Love ya"
"Awww you sweetie pie, always helping out."
"Yeah, you know how it is, Snooze, I will always be here for you? If you know what I mean."
"I have all too good an idea."
"Oh Susan. You will always have a special place in my heart and you know it. Don't worry, your spot is bigger than Ruby's lmao."
"What's with the sweet talk?"
"I don't know really, maybe I miss us, the times we had. More the cuddling and chatting and **** than the other stuff."
"Feeling nostalgia now that I'm moving?"
"No, have felt this way since Kevin got here. No offence to my homeboy or you, as I said I am just missing laying in your arms and chatting ****. You really are a sweet girl and a top friend."
"I seem to be everyone's best girl today."
"You have been my best girl for a while now lol. Do you ever think of us? And I would have had this conversation with you on a walk or something but they don't happen too often."
"How are you sending these messages without Kevin noticing?"
"Talent, lol. He is not sitting on my lap."
"I sometimes think of us. It's weird not having time alone anymore."
"Yeah it does feel weird. Hey maybe someday.... I'd give my left nut for one more us night. Anyway gorgeous pretty and we'll see you soon. Sorry for, crimini, all that us, but I needed to tell you."
The next ex boyfriend to come out of the woodwork this week is losing a testicle.
Well I'm up to about week eight without antidepressants. I'm alright, I'm not about to flip out and kill a bunch of people. But I did start taking them for a reason and it's tough trying to deal with that sober.
I think it was mrs. frig who posted a personality test on the TTC forums a while back. Of course it's just a stupid internet quiz, but my result said something that I feel like I've been trying to articulate my whole life. I don't have the link anymore to direct quote, but basically it said that I don't see things as just the good and the bad, but a grander scale of good vs evil. It's true, that is how I often see things.
I have, at times in my life, become obsessive about wrongs done to me. Not all wrongs, I can cop one on the chin with the best of them, but just certain things. No one I know ever believed me, but it wasn't selfishness. I didn't want revenge, I didn't compulsively need people to see things my way, but evil had won. Evil had won and I kept fighting, not because I thought that I could win, but because someone needed to champion good. Someone needed to care, someone needed to be upset, someone needed to learn the lesson because otherwise evil would win without anyone noticing or caring. And that can't happen, I won't let it.
It's stupid and it's self-destructive, but it's compulsive. I've won a lot of loyal friends that way. I guess never having anyone to champion my cause has made me want all the more to never let someone I love feel that alone. But it's wrecked me. It's hard to be the pariah, it's hard to be the martyr. I made a decision to change. If I have to fight that insidious evil that surrounds us, then I made the decision to do it actively and decisively, not just to waste away mourning the loss of innocence in someone I loved.
What I'm really trying to say here is that old hurts are coming back up. People I couldn't save, because it was never my duty in the first place. Chris, Dylan.... I miss you both. I know you never intended to do what you did. I tried so hard to redeem you, but I don't blame you for falling so far.
No one ever sees it, not until it's too late. I know it sounds like I'm just being dramatic, but no one who I've ever tried to save has ended up alright. It starts of with my friends telling me that they're fine upstanding members of the community who committed a single abhorrent act, "so-and-so isn't like that". From there it goes downhill. "Did you hear what so-and-so did?" "Looks like so-and-so wasn't as nice as we thought." "Yeah, no one really talks to so-and-so anymore." "So-and-so? Haven't heard from them in six months." And long after the damage is done people are coming up to me and admitting that I was right. I don't want their apologies, I want my friends back.
Okay, now I sound completely insane. I might be. The point is that I've come a long way from being this mad and I don't want to slip back. It hurts to lose friends. It hurts to be right and treated like I'm an idiot. It hurts to see my friends indifferent to me when I'm hurting. I need to find a way to deal with all these things drug-free.
Maybe this is just part of the healing journey, but DAMMIT I want my big brother back. I want to talk to him, I want him to coo over my wedding photos. I want him to mock me for TTC so young. I want him to get up and do stupid dances to cheer me up. I want him to disapprove of my smoking and drinking and drugs. And there's no way. Because no one on this good green earth ever admitted that he did anything wrong.
Okay now I'm feeling better.
You know I'd take chinese water torture over this cold. Winter has hit like a ton of bricks. I walked out of my house this morning wearing jeans, a long sleeved top, a jacket, and Kevin's giant red whindcheater, and instantly felt like all my blood had turned to ice. Not to mention it's damn near impossible to get out of bed. You have to brave the cold.
Apparently I have such a standup record with my bank that they've decided to give me an overdraw function. I really wish they hadn't done that. I didn't realise until payday when my transaction record informed me that I had been 100$ in debt when I got paid, so I had to pay that back plus 35$ overdraw fee. What a bunch of jerks.
It's not easy being green.
I'm still trying to explain to Kevin the difference between "clothes and dishes are clean" and "house is clean". It's not coming up well.
On the plus side, I'm really quite happy right now. <3
My family isn't built of blood,
We're carfeully woven, bound by love;
For every drop of love that's spilled,
It isn't like a person killed;
We've laughed and cared and kissed and dated,
Seen words and deeds and life created;
We're seeing all there is to see,
City's roar and ocean's breeze,
I know I never need to fear,
Where I am, my family is here.
You know it's almost a crime that I haven't told you guys what happened on Friday night. It was pretty epic. Well maybe not epic so much as gross.
Txt from Gareth at midnight. "Can you guys come over? My nipple is pissing blood all over my shirt." I think that's fairly self explanatory.
So we busted a move across the street to find out wtf happened. Now I have seen Gareth drunk and stoned before, but this was the first time I had ever seen him slurring his speech and looking disoriented. So that was my second clue that something was way wrong. He had gone to his wife's parents' place. They had all drank too much, smoked some weed. Then he and Linda had an enormous fight and he came home. Then he had managed to get his nipple ring caught on the latch of his bathroom door, didn't notice, and slammed the door.
So, I immediately rang an ambulance. His nipple had literally torn in half. It wasn't the first time it had suffered damage. When his daughter was very young and he wore a bar insted of a ring she had pulled it out one side of the hole. This was a tad worse. So I gently cleaned him off, kept him calm. Half of me was thanking God that he was stoned so the pain wasn't too bad, the other half was just pissed off that he his wife had let him go home in such a bad way after a big fight. He didn't even want to call her, said she wouldn't care and knowing her I'd agree with him.
So the ambulance arrived and only had one spare seat so we had to leave Kevin behind. The paramedics were really nice, they did a great job. Gareth was very wasted and apparently trying to make himself look like he was insane. He rambled on to the paramedic in the back with him, telling him about the latest body mutilation trend (sixteen needles in either arm). He told him about the alcohol but not the drugs, which was stupid since using isn't illegal so it wasn't like they were going to report him. And Gareth is hardly an addict, he barely even drinks, and has probably been stoned two or three times since I first met him four years ago.
So at the hospital before we were shown to the waiting room I leaned over and mumbled to him that he should tell about the drugs, they weren't gunna do anything but they should know. He called out to the ambo who just smiled and said, "It's already on the chart, I've been doing this job a long time."
So I'll skip forward a few hours to when we were seen. His nurse and doctor were both awesome. The nurse was this incredibly frank, honest type guy. I liked it. He came in to put some numbing cream on the nipple and Gareth joked about *****slapping him for hurting him. The guy says as he leaves, "Do that and I'll put a really big needle in your arm." And we were like wtf? The paramedics are gossiping about body mutilation? It was funny. After the 45 minutes it took for the cream to work (at this point it was about 3am and we were falling asleep), the nurse came back and cleaned him off. More jokes about a guy rubbing his nipples ensued. The nurse assured us that he was making it as painful as possible to prevent arousal.
The doctor was equally frank. At Gareth's request she informed him that the nipple ring hurt his chances of breastfeeding more than the damage done. She administered two local anaesthetics to his nipp. If you've never had one, let me tell you this, I screamed from getting them in the soft part of my arm. They do not tickle. He took it like a little girl, and I can't blame him. I got the delight of watching the doctor clean away all the clots and excess tissue. She told us he had torn down to the duct. He needed three stitches.
So then we got pizza and went home, finding Kevin sleeping on the couch at 4am. Pizza was nice, but afterwards I just crashed.
So that was my Friday night. How was yours?
Okay, I don't know why this irritates me so much. But it sure does. The Big Bang Theory. Firstly, the name. It's not a theory, it's a hypothesis. It does have a lot of supporting evidence, but it is by no means proven. In fact, there are several reasons why it couldn't possibly happen. If you're into speculative physics and know a lot of big words, visit the wiki. Sure, there is the doppler effect which suggests the universe is expanding, and the background radiation waves proving that at some point, somewhere, an explosion of some kind happened. I'm happy with that. But it's by no means substantial.
Secondly, it defies all reason. I know I'm not taking into account a lot of factors here, but just the basics piss me off. It's based around defying two of the most basic laws of nature. You cannot create or destroy matter, you only screw around with what's already here. Also, nothing happens for no reason. Sometimes we don't know the reason, but that doesn't mean the reason doesn't exist. There are a lot of things to suggest the big bang really happened, but they all defy those two basic laws. I'm even willing to omit the second one, because the law of probability suggests that given a long enough timeline almost anything would happen.
Thirdly, the fact that not believing in the big bang gets me lumped in with creationists. There are more options than 1. God created the universe or 2. the universe just happened one day. Usually I side with science on matters of natural philosophy, but even I think 1. sounds more reasonable. I think our tiny little minds cannot grasp the concept of infinity and have to find a way to put a beginning and an end to everything. It's like God, he wasn't created and he won't die. He just is. He always was, He always will be. Deal with it.
Advanced physics aside, I'm starting some 3D modelling! My one and only colleague is a programmer and I'm a writer/artist, so we're getting together to make a game. Means I have to digitalise my artwork. It's not going so bad. It could be worse. Kevin's giving me hell about ignoring him all the time, but honestly, this is my dream. I'd go to the ends of the earth to pursue it. Which would be a long way because as we've already established, infinity is a possible concept.
Anywho, I have to find a way to condense my quality time. Rather than 4 hours a night of meandering conversation and maybe a movie we don't really like, an hour-long activity that gains both our interest plus sex whould do it. Quality, not quantity. I need time in my life.
Time is something I'm so short of. Kevin only sees me during my spare time, so it's like he thinks it lasts forever. All I ever have is spare time! Not the case. Once dinner and chores are done when I'm home, I maybe get two hours to do other things. And I never get enough sleep. I feel like since we've been married I haven't had a single night where I could just sit down and do something. He has now idea how to act independantly of me. He gets pissed off at me for being on the computer while he's bored and I'm like... "wtf? Do you not have books and a playstation and friends and chores and stuff? Why do I have to find fun for you before I'm allowed to do anything." We had a talk about it last night.
I'm really excited about this game. In fact one might say I'm stoked. I need to get serious about it. I know the end product is going to be fun, but the production is just plain old hard work. I've only made a head so far. Honestly it was the thing I was most worried about so that's actually a good thing. Turns out I'm not bad at heads. The next few months have to be filled with serious work. The hallmark of bipolar people is that they don't finish anything they start and I really want this.
Also, with the complete recession of anything keeping my moods stable my graphomania has returned! It'll be great for writing a story, but it did keep me up until 2am last night scribbling on my bedsheets with my fingers. I know it's a serious disorder, but I really like it. It makes me happy.
Time, gravity and spatial imaging. Guess we didn't really get off advanced physics.