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megpie71

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megpie71: Impossibility established early takes the sting out of the rest of the obstacles (Less obstacles)
Thursday, September 13th, 2012 10:26 am
It's R U OK Day here in Australia. It's a national day dedicated to raising awareness of mental health issues.

So hi, I'm Meg, and at the moment, I'm not OK.

I have chronic endogenous clinical depression. Chronic means this is long-term, it isn't something that's going away any time soon. Endogenous means there's no readily apparent "reason" for why I'm depressed. Clinical depression is the name of the mental illness I have, and as the previous two sentences point out, I don't just have this illness one day a year. It's for life, not just for today.

At the moment, I'm having one of my periodic "black" times. I'm dealing with a depressive attack, which means I'm displaying all the symptoms of depression. I'm feeling vulnerable, self-critical, guilty about long-past offences, unable to be cheerful, unable to find happiness, worthless, useless, hopeless, and I have recurrent thoughts about how I (and the world at large) would be better off if I were dead. Or in other words, I'm depressed. Again.

I've been feeling more or less this way for most of the past two weeks, and I'll probably continue feeling this way for at least another week and a half. I'm not doing much by way of housework, and I'm having to struggle to keep up with my university commitments. I have a lot less energy than I used to have, and while I'm feeling tired all the time, I'm also not sleeping well (I'm dreaming a lot more, and my sleep is a lot more physically restless than it used to be - I woke up this morning with my covers all pulled loose, which is a pretty good indication that there are problems). I'm irritable, and the person I'm most irritated with is myself.

How do I know all of this? I know it because I've been dealing with the depression since I first started going through puberty (my first real feeling of dealing with suicidal impulses was back when I was about ten or eleven, and it just kept going from there). I'm in my forties now, and I'll probably be dealing with this until I die. So I've learned to deal with it.

I've tried multiple anti-depressants. They don't work for me. Or actually, that's probably mis-stating things. Anti-depressants don't work to deal with the sort of depressive episode I'm dealing with now - they're not for acute short-term treatment, because even the most rapid-acting of them take about a couple of weeks to build up to levels where they're going to be effective. The other side of it is that for me, taking antidepressants on a long-term basis is analogous to walking around on crutches all the time just in case I happen to break my ankle again. The effects of antidepressants - the loss of libido, the anorgasmia, the feeling of losing about half my emotional range (yeah, I don't feel as far down... but I lose all the up, too), the mental fogging that comes with doses strong enough to actually stop the depression in its tracks - all of those are a bit too high a price to be paying for the dubious privilege of not being depressed for the year or so it takes my brain to figure out how to be depressed anyway.

I'm also a bit sceptical about anti-depressants in general as well, mostly because we don't know how they actually work to treat depression. By which I mean: we don't know how reduced serotonin or norepinephrine levels, or strange dopamine levels, or odd amounts of endorphins at the neuron level affects things to make depression visible at the cognitive and emotional levels. It's in the bit of neuropsychology which could best be described as "Step Two: ????". There's also no diagnostic tests available to check neurotransmitter levels in the brain - instead, they have to be guessed at from behavioural and self-reported cues. Which means that the medication-go-round with mental health issues is mostly a case of "well, try this and see whether it works", and if it does work, well, that probably meant your levels of whichever neurotransmitter that one was supposed to be targeting were out of whack. Or something. Probably something.

So at present, I'm back to the tried-and-true strategy which got me through from early puberty until I was about thirty: I just bulldoze through it. Because here's the crucial bit: I've been living with depression since I was fairly young. So I'm used to it. I've accepted it's part of my life. I am going to have days where I'm going to wake up and think "oh damn, I'm not dead. Now what?". I am going to have whole weeks where the most I want to do is sit in a corner and cry. I am going to have months where fun just isn't on the agenda, because I don't know how to have fun. I'm going to be living a life where if someone tells me "just cheer up", I'm likely to shoot back with "how?", and actually get a certain amount of sadistic enjoyment out of watching as they flounder. I'm going to be living a life where the "think positive" types are going to receive a quick rundown of just how useless trying to think about the positives in the middle of a depressive storm is - as I've said elsewhere, I've tried it, and what happens is I wind up absolutely positive that the world would be a better place if I wasn't part of it.

So I get up in the morning, think "oh fuck, still not dead," and carry on. I have routines set up. I have an alarm which goes off at 8.30am every morning to remind me to get dressed, and to take my thyroid meds. I set myself limits on what I'm expected to achieve each day, and those limits are low - they're set for what I can achieve in the middle of the worst of the depression. I'm prepared for the days where I don't want to do anything, and where all I want to do is hide, and I give myself permission to take days where all I'm doing is sitting and watching a DVD, because any other form of intellectual or physical effort feels like too much.

It's like the weather. The storm will pass. I'll feel fucking rotten while it's doing that, and any obstacle is going to seem impassable, but it will pass.

So yeah. I'm Meg, and at the moment, I'm not OK. But I'll probably be OK in a couple of weeks. So that's OK.
megpie71: AC Tifa Lockheart looking at camera, very determined (Give me the chocolate & nobody dies)
Tuesday, April 24th, 2012 11:23 am
There are times when I regret having picked up the psychology units. Now is one of them, mostly because last week's lectures and tutorial discussion for the "Intro to Psychology" unit were about what used to be called "abnormal psychology" - mental illness, the way it's diagnosed and treated and so on. So there was a lot of rather triggering stuff in there, and even though I'm pretty used to dealing with this sort of thing, it does rather back up the mental sewers, so to speak.

One of the key bits which stuck with me was the rendition of the behaviourist perspective on what depression was: a form of "learned helplessness", in reaction to a series of situations in which the person is receiving near constant stress and mental pain, and is unable to alter their circumstances in order to prevent or alter this. Now, this is both a good thing and a bad thing. It's a good thing, in that it basically points out that the depressive reaction is far from being stupid and insensible - in fact, this theory points out that under the circumstances, depression is the only damn thing possible. It stops being a sign of weakness, and instead becomes a wholly sensible and reasonable reaction to the situation - and just being able to see the depression in that light is a Good Thing. It's a not-so-good thing because it got me thinking about what the circumstances could have been in my lifespan to trigger things.

Then along came another article (this one being one I found via the HaT linkspam post) which pointed me at a possible set of triggering circumstances: twelve years of school bullying. Now, this may not seem like much, but it pretty much fits the method for the learned helplessness reaction pretty damn closely: take your subject, put them in uncomfortable circumstances, and make damn certain the subject is aware that no matter what action they take, the uncomfortable circumstances aren't going to go away. In my case, this was school - and it quickly became clear to me that no matter what action I took, the bullies weren't going to stop, and nobody was going to take my side in things - not the teachers, not my parents, not my peers, nobody. Also, there was no way known to mankind my parents were going to pull me out of school just because I was being bullied. So I learned the only thing I could do was endure.

Now, I'm not saying that school bullying was the sole and only factor in my becoming the depressed adult I am today. I grew up with two parents who were both depressed, and at least three out of my four grandparents had depressive patches in their lives, not to mention most of my relations. So there's a strong familial culture of depression, and not that many options for learning non-depressive patterns of thought and action. I suspect there's also a genetic factor, one which responded to a hormonal trigger, because I know that things got a lot worse very abruptly around the time my periods started. So it's likely I would have been prone to depression even if I'd been a popular kid in school, rather than the designated target. What I am saying is that twelve years of school bullying didn't really equip me with any alternative mental strategies for dealing with negative situations other than getting miserable and staying there.

So I'm currently wading through all this (and yeah, I'm weepy as I write this, catharsis is annoying). It comes complete with flashbacks to the worst moments (courtesy of memory pulling these things out to do their turn on the stage of the Grand Old Embarrassing Recollection) and lots of buried pain. Meanwhile, I'm also supposed to be writing an essay for the subject in question, and a lab report for a different psych subject, and the old brain is basically saying "fsck this shit" the whole damn way. All I'm wanting to do is drop my bundle and sleep for a day or so. It's 11.15am, I'm supposed to be diving out the door to go to uni in two minutes, and even after a cup of coffee my get up and go just hasn't got up at all. So I think I'm going to be skipping today's lecture and tutorial, because quite frankly, I'm just not feeling capable of dealing with anything.

Time to indulge the inner three-year-old and her fit of the "don't wannas". Maybe tomorrow I'll be all grown up about things. Right now, though, I think I need a blankie and a hot drink and lots of sulking time.
megpie71: Simplified bishie Rufus Shinra says "Heee!" (Ha ha only serious)
Saturday, March 26th, 2011 06:40 pm
And the kitchen table. And the receipt for the new printer and the expansion drive which didn't work. And a whole heap of paperwork from the past three years.

The thing which triggered all of this was installing a new printer (well, all-in-one device really - it scans and it prints and it photocopies and although it doesn't fax things, it's connected to a computer with an internet connection, so it can perform the equivalent of faxing too) and discovering that the only place I had where the printer would actually fit on my desk was (at that point) covered with an ever-increasing stack of paperwork. So, I got the printer installed (and working very nicely, thank you) and then realised I really had to do something about the piles and piles and piles of stuff which had been occupying the space on my desk where the printer had been. Mostly because it was now occupying the space on the kitchen table where the eating spaces had been, and I really did want to sit down and enjoy a proper dinner at some point in the next couple of days.

So, I decided to get started by clearing a bit of space to put down my little hand-crank shredder (handles 2 pages at a time, and is also capable of chewing through credit cards and CDs) and started shredding all the obvious crap as it all came to hand. End result (before I got bored) was two plastic bags of hamster bedding. Then I pulled out the ring binder/portfolio I'd been using to store all my corro and stuff from a couple of years ago - it was a system which had worked for me right up to the point where I stopped being dilligent about it, at which point the backlog took over and it disappeared under the mess. So, pull out everything for the past couple of years from that, and grab three envelope-style folders from the storage cupboard - one for 2009, one for 2010, and one for 2011. The 2009 and 2010 stuff just got dumped into the folders, and the folders go into the filing cabinet for further action later. The 2011 stuff got put into the appropriate categories in the portfolio binder (and I wrote up a new index for this binder, so I can find what I'm looking for).

Meanwhile, I looked at a couple of file trays I had on top of the filing cabinet, and decided they could be re-used in a more constructive manner. One now has a pile of stuff in it which needs to be shredded - and a label saying "to shred". The other is currently empty, but there's a (smaller) pile of stuff to sort on top of the filing cabinet, and I figure I may as well use the capabilities of my nice new scanner to scan those things which I want to keep, but which I can't figure out a decent "away" for. So it has a label saying "to scan". My eventual aim is to get to and scan all the hundreds of recipe leaflets I've collected over the years, so I'll have a permanent record of them, and then I don't have to bloody well keep the silly things! Yay! More storage space!
megpie71: Animated "tea" icon popular after London bombing. (sit down and drink your tea)
Thursday, February 4th, 2010 02:38 pm
I got a nice letter from the university I went and attacked dracolichs at on Monday. They said "yes, we'd love to see you here this year, here's a web address, now get cracking on your enrolment, O Week is next week!"

So I am now enrolled as a full-time student (I hope... I have a funny feeling that because I don't have to do a Foundation Unit[1] I may just be scraping in a little below the "full-time" course load radar). But I'll go along there tomorrow (bus and train again) and then over to the nice people at Centrelink some time soon (oh crap... I've just realised, the best time to go and talk to them would be NOW! before they get mixed messages from Murdoch, Transperth and everyone else they get information from, and decide on an Alexandrine solution to the whole Gordian mess by cutting off my payments altogether! Excuse me while I grab the phone...)

And having done that, I've discovered I can't actually sign up for their customer disservices online, because I don't have (wait for it) a receipt number from Centrelink for some time in the past eight weeks. I'm on delayed lodgement through my Job Services Australia provider (my next form isn't due in until about the middle of March) and this means I generally go three months at a stretch without seeing the inside of a Centrelink office. The last time I went in there was when I went to find out why the heck the nice people from the government agency who were handling the bond assistance hadn't managed to get things set up to take the money directly from my payment (which apparently needed a different piece of paperwork from the one I had in my hot little hand, and therefore couldn't be dealt with right there and then).

[...]

And now I'm back again, stressed out, tired out, shopped out, and about ready to strangle things. And I still have to head back to the Centrelink office tomorrow to actually get the bloody stuff submitted and handed in (because although I can *print out* the form from their online page, I can't actually submit it online (or at least, that's how I'm reading things - and since just *finding* the bloody form took about six go-rounds of their website, because I still had my mind in dealing with the university mode, where they go for "sensible and logical" as a default, rather than bureaucracy, where the default is "bloody-minded to the extreme", I'm not going to push my luck). My only worry is that there's apparently rules which say the government is only going to support me for so many years of study (and this is equivalent to the length of the course plus one semester). Now, over the past twenty-two years, since I finished high school, I've spent at least eight of these engaged in either full-time or part-time study. Of those eight years, Centrelink was supporting me for an absolute maximum of four (and three of those four were when I was working for them, so I strongly doubt they count!). But I am in full "dealing with a government department" paranoia mode at present. So I'm going to head down there tomorrow, tidied up and ready to face the worst they can throw at me.

Meanwhile, since the paranoia module in my brain is kicking out in full throttle at the moment, I'm currently panicking that I'll bomb out in the first semester, crashing and burning and failing horrendously. Ah, the joys of going back to uni.

Wish me luck, folks.

[1] Foundation Units are a Murdoch University speciality for students who have never been to university before - basically "uni in a box 101" for kids who are just learning how to put things together. Since this will be my fourth attempt at an undergraduate degree they figure I already know what I'm doing with regard to things like writing essays, attending lectures, and showing up for tutorials.
megpie71: Animated "tea" icon popular after London bombing. (Tea damnit)
Thursday, October 8th, 2009 11:55 am
Gods, where to start? It's been a bit of a frantic week-and-a-bit. Let's see - how about I give a rundown of "good things and bad things" and then an expansion in TL;DR below.

Good things:
  • Meds packaged in blister pack, Silver Chain stuff almost up and running.

  • Purchased Dissidia on Tuesday, already 9/10ths of the way through the initial part of Story Mode

  • Heard from my folks, they're coming back to Perth early


Not-Good things:
  • Still depressed

  • Court hearing on Tuesday resulted in an order to hand over the house

  • Still unemployed


This is the TL;DR stuff )

So yeah, how's everyone else doing?
megpie71: a phone, ringing. (phone)
Monday, September 21st, 2009 07:10 pm
Amanda "Brocky" Stachewicz had everything: a loving family with children, a great career as a doctor and a home in the western suburbs. The former St Hilda's schoolgirl got top marks for everything and was beautiful inside and out.

But at her funeral at her old school in March, mourners were stunned to hear about how she felt before she died.

"I'm tired and I don't want to suffer any more," Brocky wrote before she committed suicide.

Her schoolmate Karen Heagney is running in November's New York marathon to remember her friend and do something for mental illness.

"Depression is a hidden disease," Karen said this week, as she limbered up for a training session at Perry Lakes. "If you suffer from a physical disease it's visible and tangible and people ask how you're going. With depression often no one knows."


This is an excerpt from an article which appeared in our free local paper[1] this week. It was one of the things which pushed me over the edge into absolute screaming hysterical fury today, and got me breaking down.

More under the fold )

[1] Mosman Cottesloe Post, Vol 36 No 37; September 19 2009.
megpie71: a phone, ringing. (BH2)
Saturday, September 12th, 2009 11:52 am
Well, for some reason getting out the two longish pieces I've been working away at on and off over the past year or so and doing some more of the epicyclical rewrites I'm prone to (I call it editing, because that sounds ever so much more purposeful) appeared to have worked to dispel the cranky mood. By the time midnight came around, I was able to kick off the download without wanting to bite the update program, and when I eventually went to bed at close on 3am this morning, I was just fine.

What was even better, I'd added some new content to both of the pieces I'd opened, which really helps. One of them's up to 24,000 words plus, while the other's only at 5,000 or so, but they're both going to be walloping great bastards when (if) they're eventually completed.

I'm still fine this morning, having created my first character on City of Heroes and completed the initial missions. It's an interesting little game, that one. I think I shall see about creating a second character, and see whether I can get any further. One of the only complaints I have is that if you're playing a trial account (as I am) there's a persistent little box in the dead centre of the screen telling you you're playing the trial, and asking whether you want to buy the full version. Mind you, I can live with that for a week or so, while I decide whether or not I want to keep playing. So far the answer is "yes", but that may alter.
megpie71: Animated "tea" icon popular after London bombing. (Tea damnit)
Friday, September 11th, 2009 09:25 pm
I'm cranky. I don't know why. I've been taking my meds all week like a good girl, so in theory I shouldn't be feeling this irritable. Unfortunately, this isn't theory, and I'm currently feeling tetchy enough to bite the heads off live chickens just in order to satisfy my craving for something destructive to do.

The annoying bit is that I really don't know why I'm so cranky. I suspect it has something to do with the fact that I cancelled my WoW account today (and got rather irritated at their cutesy "you made the peon cry" bit in there, while I was at it). Unfortunately, I didn't actually have much choice in the matter - Blizzard appear to have chosen not to continue supporting the graphics hardware I'm using, and I'm not in a financial position to be able to pay largeish amounts to upgrade my laptop just so I can play one damn game. I went looking around at other MMORPGs, and decided to give "City of Heroes" a try, but installing it requires downloading the software, which means I have a flippin' 10 hour download waiting for me. Yays. To make matters more interesting still, Himself decided to confide in me that we're coming up to the limit for our bandwidth for the peak hours (ie everything between 8am and midnight - off peak is between midnight and 8am) so if I want to do this download, I have to wait until midnight to kick it off. Hoo-fucking-ray.

Ach, I think I'll get out the bits of fiction I'm working on and see whether I can come up with anything for those. After all, if I'm going to be cranky, bad-tempered and frustrated, I may as well do it to some purpose.