Sunday, May 29, 2011
Niche
This is kind of a... niche blog, isn't it? With no real purpose? Teenaged female with psychological issues talks about the internet, said issues, games, books, movies, friends, psychology, science, writing, art, and her life? It's too broad to be of a specific purpose and too specific to appeal to... well, anyone, really. I take heart in the idea that I can't be totally unique, though.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Pills
Been having a lot of psychological issues lately, and I finally got my doctor to put me on pills. Prozac - for depression. I'm frank here because I won't be with anyone else.
I take them once daily. They usually aren't prescribed to teenagers because they work so well... that is, they work very well in comparison to others, with fewer side effects.
Make sense? I thought not.
My mother, a psychologist and also on depression meds for a heck of a lot of years, explained it like this: when you're depressed, all anyone ever cares about it whether or not you're suicidal, right? So most people think that if you're not, it's not serious, or at least not very. But a lot of times it's because people hit that low. The psychological low that means you can barely function, if at all; the feeling where you want to lie in bed and let things get worse because you don't have the energy to counteract it, to do anything. And that can be good too (though, having experienced it, I'd never call it "good"): if you don't have the energy to get up in the morning, you don't have the energy to commit suicide.
So the pills start working, better than most other pills. And you're right in that transitory stage, right in that place where you're still feeling horrible but you've come up with some energy to do something about it.
And so you do.
I don't feel that many people have... the right, honestly, to tell us about or diagnose depression. I watched a movie in the eighth grade in Health class - it was mandatory - called "Silence of the Heart." I felt offended at the movie, frankly. The way it depicted depression... well. For starters, the main character at the beginning, the one who commits suicide, named Skip - he's apparently depressed because of all of the hardships he's been going through, because he didn't pass a test and his daddy doesn't love him or something (I'm serious). And so he drives his car off of a cliff.
And the rest of the movie was all of the characters dealing with the aftermath, trying to pick up the pieces of their lives. A guilt trip for me because at one point that year I had been mildly suicidal (can you be mildly suicidal?) and it only made me feel worse.
It's awful because movies like this perpetually give "normal people" a reason to differentiate depressed people between themselves, to make them feel worse about themselves. The people who think this kind of movie are right, completely right, are making things worse by using guilt tactics to coerce depressed/suicidal people and trying to find a reason for a person's depression, or obvious warning signs just before they commit suicide. That's all total bullshit. Some people don't have warning signs, or at least not ones you'll recognize. Some people don't have reasons... that's me; sometimes I realize I've just looked for any excuse to be angry or depressed, even one as stupid as getting the cold, a friend taking too long to reply, or getting a paper-cut. Mentally I know that's all very stupid, but sometimes my brain uses it as a horrible excuse to go on a downward spiral, just like that. And then sometimes there are no reasons at all.
Depression is an illness. An illness caused by defects in the processes in your brain involving "happy chemicals" and "mood balancing chemicals" called serotonin and norepinephrine* in your brain.
And I'm tired of it being treated like it's just me complaining all day, because goddammit, I've been diagnosed and I'm obviously not using it as an excuse - I can talk coherently and politely, can't I? If anything, I need to complain more. Because you know what other people think of me, even my closest friends? That I'm confident, that I have a brilliant sense of humor, that I always give stuff my best shot, that I'm an overachiever, that I'm a good artist and writer, that I'm a shoulder to cry on and a good friend, sometimes a truthfully selfish person and sometimes an altruist.
Normal person, confident in her abilities and in her life, right? Right?
That's what everyone sees, but on the inside, I'm just a vulnerable little five-year-old girl, and every hit doled out to me like someone would hit a person of my apparent strength and resilience just goes straight through the facade and beats that little girl.
I'm not saying that I hate critique, or something (it helps you improve, so I enjoy it, mostly, in fact), but... there are some hits I have trouble taking. And most people out there will never tell the difference. All I know is how to dish back what I just took, harder, faster, stronger, more accurately. My only defense is an offense, and guess how well that works out? Which is why I never did like arguments with friends (or "frenemies," for that matter). There are always sharp barbs in your words, always something asinine. There hasn't been an argument in the past two years that didn't involve an angry someone calling someone else "honey" or "sweetie" or "sugar." Because those names are like powdered sugar, sweetening you up before they cut you open and making it oh, so much easier to wound and bite and hurt.
I am very... something right now. It's a dull feeling, kind of numb, where talking hurts, moving is impossible and thinking is all you can do, and so you think a lot.
I take them once daily. They usually aren't prescribed to teenagers because they work so well... that is, they work very well in comparison to others, with fewer side effects.
Make sense? I thought not.
My mother, a psychologist and also on depression meds for a heck of a lot of years, explained it like this: when you're depressed, all anyone ever cares about it whether or not you're suicidal, right? So most people think that if you're not, it's not serious, or at least not very. But a lot of times it's because people hit that low. The psychological low that means you can barely function, if at all; the feeling where you want to lie in bed and let things get worse because you don't have the energy to counteract it, to do anything. And that can be good too (though, having experienced it, I'd never call it "good"): if you don't have the energy to get up in the morning, you don't have the energy to commit suicide.
So the pills start working, better than most other pills. And you're right in that transitory stage, right in that place where you're still feeling horrible but you've come up with some energy to do something about it.
And so you do.
I don't feel that many people have... the right, honestly, to tell us about or diagnose depression. I watched a movie in the eighth grade in Health class - it was mandatory - called "Silence of the Heart." I felt offended at the movie, frankly. The way it depicted depression... well. For starters, the main character at the beginning, the one who commits suicide, named Skip - he's apparently depressed because of all of the hardships he's been going through, because he didn't pass a test and his daddy doesn't love him or something (I'm serious). And so he drives his car off of a cliff.
And the rest of the movie was all of the characters dealing with the aftermath, trying to pick up the pieces of their lives. A guilt trip for me because at one point that year I had been mildly suicidal (can you be mildly suicidal?) and it only made me feel worse.
It's awful because movies like this perpetually give "normal people" a reason to differentiate depressed people between themselves, to make them feel worse about themselves. The people who think this kind of movie are right, completely right, are making things worse by using guilt tactics to coerce depressed/suicidal people and trying to find a reason for a person's depression, or obvious warning signs just before they commit suicide. That's all total bullshit. Some people don't have warning signs, or at least not ones you'll recognize. Some people don't have reasons... that's me; sometimes I realize I've just looked for any excuse to be angry or depressed, even one as stupid as getting the cold, a friend taking too long to reply, or getting a paper-cut. Mentally I know that's all very stupid, but sometimes my brain uses it as a horrible excuse to go on a downward spiral, just like that. And then sometimes there are no reasons at all.
Depression is an illness. An illness caused by defects in the processes in your brain involving "happy chemicals" and "mood balancing chemicals" called serotonin and norepinephrine* in your brain.
And I'm tired of it being treated like it's just me complaining all day, because goddammit, I've been diagnosed and I'm obviously not using it as an excuse - I can talk coherently and politely, can't I? If anything, I need to complain more. Because you know what other people think of me, even my closest friends? That I'm confident, that I have a brilliant sense of humor, that I always give stuff my best shot, that I'm an overachiever, that I'm a good artist and writer, that I'm a shoulder to cry on and a good friend, sometimes a truthfully selfish person and sometimes an altruist.
Normal person, confident in her abilities and in her life, right? Right?
That's what everyone sees, but on the inside, I'm just a vulnerable little five-year-old girl, and every hit doled out to me like someone would hit a person of my apparent strength and resilience just goes straight through the facade and beats that little girl.
I'm not saying that I hate critique, or something (it helps you improve, so I enjoy it, mostly, in fact), but... there are some hits I have trouble taking. And most people out there will never tell the difference. All I know is how to dish back what I just took, harder, faster, stronger, more accurately. My only defense is an offense, and guess how well that works out? Which is why I never did like arguments with friends (or "frenemies," for that matter). There are always sharp barbs in your words, always something asinine. There hasn't been an argument in the past two years that didn't involve an angry someone calling someone else "honey" or "sweetie" or "sugar." Because those names are like powdered sugar, sweetening you up before they cut you open and making it oh, so much easier to wound and bite and hurt.
I am very... something right now. It's a dull feeling, kind of numb, where talking hurts, moving is impossible and thinking is all you can do, and so you think a lot.
When it's really difficult to keep a straight opinion.
I've realized lately how much other people affect my opinions. When I'm talking about a game or a book or a movie that I like and someone mentions that someone I dislike loves it sooooooo much, immediately I feel my like for the game slipping away...
...or when my best friend plays it and critiques things I love about the game... or loves things I hate...
No. I'm done letting other people affect me. From here on out, I am a loner as much as I have to be in order to keep my opinions whole. Because if that can happen with something I look at or study or use a lot, and on a frequent basis... I can only imagine how it affects my lifestyle choices, my actions and decisions, my political stance, my personality as a whole. Do I want to know?
No, I don't.
So here's my oath of mental traffic: that there will be none.
...or when my best friend plays it and critiques things I love about the game... or loves things I hate...
No. I'm done letting other people affect me. From here on out, I am a loner as much as I have to be in order to keep my opinions whole. Because if that can happen with something I look at or study or use a lot, and on a frequent basis... I can only imagine how it affects my lifestyle choices, my actions and decisions, my political stance, my personality as a whole. Do I want to know?
No, I don't.
So here's my oath of mental traffic: that there will be none.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Mass Effect 2
IS THE AWESOMEST THING EVER.
I like it even more than Dragon Age: Origins. I've been playing it NONSTOP. I thought I loved Bioware before - I want to work there when I grow up - but WOW, this just is brilliance incarnate.
It's reestablished my confidence with shooters - I used to hate them, but now I see that I can play them pretty damn well with a decent interface (James Bond, I hate you so). And the default key layouts are extremely intuitive. I love it.
I must say that I don't like the character conversational options as much as in Dragon Age, because there aren't many. I realized halfway through the game how important getting Renegade (and its good equivalent with the blue because I can't remember what it was called) scores is. Especially during that Morinth mission. Which was the best/most hilarious thing ever, thank you very much.
I knew Garrus was a romance option from some conversations with another chick on dA, just in passing. Then, in game, I figured out that he was awesome, and I was like HECK YES LET'S BE THE AWKWARD INTERSPECIES COUPLE BECAUSE YOU ARE AWESOMENESS INCARNATE. Then I found out that for some reason the only way to initiate that is through casual sex? What?
Anyway, I don't even know. I can't wait for ME3. But in the meantime, I'm going to download and play the first. I thought I wouldn't have enough time to play the first before the third came out, but evidence says otherwise: I've just about cleared this game in two days. (Granted, they were two long, twenty-four-hour-periods-of-sleeplessness days, but who cares? In the summer, that's how I roll). I might even have time to load that character onto this one and play it again .___. Wow, that'd be... signs of being an addict.
But also rewarding. In the long run.
I love this game, I love third-person shooters (WHY did I decide I hated ALL shooters after all those first-persons?!), I love these characters (I know Jack probably pisses the rest of the world off, but I like her), I love being an intergalactic space badass who could chop Samus Aran in half with her pinky fingernail. I love it.
My regular team is Garrus and Jack, I'm an Adept, my favorite weapon is the Collector Particle Beam followed by the M-6c Carnifex Hand Cannon. I'm doing all of the various missions, loyalty and otherwise, before I pick up that IFF.
And then, IT'S PLOT GO-TIME. WOOOOOOO.
This has been a fangirl, fangirling out like a fangirl. FANGIRL OUT.
I like it even more than Dragon Age: Origins. I've been playing it NONSTOP. I thought I loved Bioware before - I want to work there when I grow up - but WOW, this just is brilliance incarnate.
It's reestablished my confidence with shooters - I used to hate them, but now I see that I can play them pretty damn well with a decent interface (James Bond, I hate you so). And the default key layouts are extremely intuitive. I love it.
I must say that I don't like the character conversational options as much as in Dragon Age, because there aren't many. I realized halfway through the game how important getting Renegade (and its good equivalent with the blue because I can't remember what it was called) scores is. Especially during that Morinth mission. Which was the best/most hilarious thing ever, thank you very much.
I knew Garrus was a romance option from some conversations with another chick on dA, just in passing. Then, in game, I figured out that he was awesome, and I was like HECK YES LET'S BE THE AWKWARD INTERSPECIES COUPLE BECAUSE YOU ARE AWESOMENESS INCARNATE. Then I found out that for some reason the only way to initiate that is through casual sex? What?
Anyway, I don't even know. I can't wait for ME3. But in the meantime, I'm going to download and play the first. I thought I wouldn't have enough time to play the first before the third came out, but evidence says otherwise: I've just about cleared this game in two days. (Granted, they were two long, twenty-four-hour-periods-of-sleeplessness days, but who cares? In the summer, that's how I roll). I might even have time to load that character onto this one and play it again .___. Wow, that'd be... signs of being an addict.
But also rewarding. In the long run.
I love this game, I love third-person shooters (WHY did I decide I hated ALL shooters after all those first-persons?!), I love these characters (I know Jack probably pisses the rest of the world off, but I like her), I love being an intergalactic space badass who could chop Samus Aran in half with her pinky fingernail. I love it.
My regular team is Garrus and Jack, I'm an Adept, my favorite weapon is the Collector Particle Beam followed by the M-6c Carnifex Hand Cannon. I'm doing all of the various missions, loyalty and otherwise, before I pick up that IFF.
And then, IT'S PLOT GO-TIME. WOOOOOOO.
This has been a fangirl, fangirling out like a fangirl. FANGIRL OUT.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
School is almost GONE
Thank the gods because I hate it to DEATH. To bloody, fiery, doomy death.
ATE HATE HATE HATE HAT.
Anyway, it's Geometry finals tomorrow, then Biology the next day, and that is it. That's all. I'm done. It's over. Kaput.
I shall stand and rejoice and praise not only the gods of THANK FUCKING GOD, but also the gods of FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFINALLY.
School likes to kill me slowly with a stake and a pitchfork. It's funny like that.
ATE HATE HATE HATE HAT.
Anyway, it's Geometry finals tomorrow, then Biology the next day, and that is it. That's all. I'm done. It's over. Kaput.
I shall stand and rejoice and praise not only the gods of THANK FUCKING GOD, but also the gods of FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFINALLY.
School likes to kill me slowly with a stake and a pitchfork. It's funny like that.
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