I could post an entry about how I fell over (again) on Friday (I got several snowballs thrown at me by more than one group of teenage boys, while I was using my stick, and one of them caught me off balance), or about how I spent most of yesterday crying (because depression is lovely like that), or about how the headache I woke up with this morning seems to be turning into something worse (the painkillers aren't even touching it, but I can just about deal with it if I stay lying down). But that would be boring (and involve looking at the screen for longer than I'm prepared to right now).

So why don't I just show you some snow instead?

(That's the view from my front room window, covered in about 4 inches of snow, in case you're wondering.)

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Tonight's Buzzcocks episode was fantastic. I haven't laughed so hard in ages.

However.

What's with the ablism Phill Jupitus? Yes, Robbie Williams has dealt with mental illness (most notably depression). That doesn't mean you have to make "crazy" jokes about him. Everyone else had enough material to work with without sinking as low as you did.

But what do I know? I only deal with a mental illness, after all.

(I should point out that the main reaction shot to Jupitus' remarks was of David Tennant, who looked like he was wearing one hell of a masking smile. The last time I smiled at someone like that, I was thinking about how much I would like to hit them. Just sayin'.)

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Nothing much has happened over the last few days. Today however, I learnt three new things:

1. I learnt that I have a build-up of fluid behind my left eardrum, so now I have to take a nasal spray in the hope that it'll help drain some of it. It'd better, because this spray is horrible.


2. I went to my introduction-to-therapy, where I learnt that I'll be starting Cognitive Behavioural Therapy in two weeks time. Not that I have any idea what will actually happen, but that's life.


3. There is a company that makes yogurt that is called NOM Dairy.

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( You don't need to read this. )

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With depression there are good days and bad days. And then there are days when everything seems okay-ish, and you think that maybe you can get stuff done today - except today your brain has other ideas.

Today is one of those days for me. My brain has officially taken a holiday, which means I've managed to do a grand total of nothing. No tidying, no exercising, no writing. I haven't even been able to do the descriptions for my dreamwidth icons, which I really wanted to get done. The descriptions should be easy to do, but... Apparently not.

Anyone want to help? I've got about half of them done already, but I just feel so stuck.

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There is a mouse in my room.

Wait, that's not strictly true. Either there is a mouse in my room, or I am starting to hear things again. The last time I started hearing things (and the two times before that), I ended up having a nervous breakdown. Having been through enough breakdowns in my life, I don't think anyone can blame me for going with the mouse theory. After all, I'm not scared of mice.

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I'm going to start posting random facts about me on the days that I can't come up with an actual post. Because reading about my depression can't be fun.

So today's fact is: I own no yellow clothing.

(I've only just realised that this may be a shortcoming - when you're wearing blue knickers and a red bra, you really need a pair of yellow socks.)


Also, a poll to check whether I'm the only person who thinks a certain way - brought to you by the power of creepy Twilight merch.

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I was going to tell you about my day, but I'm going to bed instead. It's been that kind of day.

(The fact that I have soft bedsheets and warm pajamas waiting for me has had no effect on this decision at all.)


[Edit] I swear, I will comment to journals and stuff when I'm feeling a bit better, and I'm hugely sorry to the few people who I have commented to over the last few days for generally not making much sense.

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I don't understand why my head's being like this. I mean, I'm used to having lows, but not this bad. I can't seem to pull myself out of it at all, and part of me's wondering if I'd be better off coming off the meds, which isn't good at all because I've been on these for over ten months and they've been working pretty well all that time, and I've never so much as questioned whether they're useful to me. And yet the only time I've ever been this bad is when I've just started new meds or been completely off them.

This is such a bad place to be in right now.

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I should really write things down as they happen, because I keep forgetting things that I want to write about.

For example, on Friday I ended up on a bus with that guy who asked me out back in April (and his friend). Basically, because he asked me out on the 1st before noon, I thought he did it as an April Fool's joke. Yeah, apparently not. Poor guy actually likes me, if the fact that he would not hear a word against me is anything to go by (he really wouldn't - he looked horrified when I said that I'm all sorts of messed up, and his friend agreed with me (we've talked about us both having depression before, so it's okay)). It's nice, I think, to know that someone likes me that way. But damn, I am so not ready for anything like that, especially from someone I don't know all that well (we've talked all of ten times, if that). I need to be able to trust people more for that, or maybe just have someone I already trust like me (because that's as easy as it sounds). Also, he doesn't know about my sexuality and gender and if I don't feel comfortable telling him about that, I can't see that working out.

Talking about gender, I had one of those brilliant moments at the weekend. You know how some children call their parents' close friends "uncle" or "auntie"? Well, neither of those labels really fit, not with the whole genderqueer thing. So me, James and Patrick were talking about all the things we want to do for any children they might have in the future, when I realised that I had no idea what they would actually call me. To which Patrick replied that they'd already thought about it, and that they could call me "auncle" (pronounced "ankle"). You guys, they actually thought about it before I mentioned it \o/!

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For those of you who don't know, my morning net routine starts with me catching up on Twitter - I don't know why, but that's how it goes right now. And I didn't get past the first tweet before bursting into tears.

Yeah, the first thing I read today made me cry. For about an hour.

Honestly, it's not a bad thing, because that tweet was a link to these cards and... well, I think I needed that today.

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I'm sorry I haven't been around much lately, so I won't blame you if you decide not to read this.

( Really not the right day for this crap... )

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Just so you know, depression has hit hard. May not be around much for the next few days. Will be okay.

So, some good things about today:

1. I love the smell of Snow Fairy in the morning.

2. I looked in my purse earlier, and realized that I have three 10% off Lush vouchers. Those'll come in useful.

3. The fireworks shop is open again - it's only ever properly open around this time of year, and it always looks cool.

4. I saw fairy lights earlier and didn't cry. I should probably write a post about why I do that at some point, but not right now.

5. Even though it's raining outside, it was warm enough earlier that I could walk around without a jacket on.

6. I got mostly caught up with comments earlier \o/

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1. I can still transcribe things, but only if I concentrate really hard and take a really long time over it. It took me nearly 2 hours to do a 3 and a half minute passage this morning, and I was knackered afterwards. I'm not entirely sure that it's anywhere near accurate either, but there you go.
2. It's still entirely possible for me to have panic-induced asthma attacks, and they still frigging hurt. I was trying to pack my shopping into my bag at the supermarket, when I noticed that a queue was forming behind me, so I kept apologizing. Both the cashier and the customer directly behind me started to tell me it was okay, and I started panicking because I couldn't get my card back in my purse, of all things. While the customer behind me was explaining that this happens to everyone, he touched my arm lightly to ground me, which made me realise just how badly I was panicking. By the time I got out of the supermarket, I pretty much had it under control, but the asthma attack decided it was going to happen anyway. Naturally my inhaler was in my bag - buried under a pile of shopping. This just about proves that cleverness is something that happens to other people.
3. Even when panicking, I still have the mind of a 12 year old. In trying to explain that everything was okay, the customer behind me (while gesturing towards my overflowing bag) said that I had a big package. Yes, my mind went there. Even while panicking.
4. It's likely that I have a thing for umbrellas. Every year, my grandad gets a "Presents For Men" magazine and a "Gifts For The Girls" magazine (by the same company) in the mail. While they are so unbelievably faily (hell, even the titles are faily when compared to each other), I'll still look through them. When looking through the men's one (the design of which includes a lot of dark blues), there's a good chance I'll really want about half the stuff in it, whereas in the girls' women's one (pink, obviously) there's a few things I kinda like and only one thing I really want. Last year, that thing was this light up umbrella (which would have been useless for me, because I'm rarely out when it would be dark enough to make use of it), and this year it's this heart shaped umbrella (which only comes in a colour that I hate with a passion, but if it'd been red it would have been perfect). How odd.

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For those in Harry Potter fandom: has FtM!Sirius been done before? Do you think it's even possible to do it, and do it well? Are there any other HP characters that you think I could do something similar with? (Yes, this is totally down to that prompt in queerlygen, not my fault at all.)

For those who want to know: the reason that I'm focusing on things like the above right now is because someone thought that a good time to test how sane I am will be 9:30am on Thursday. The only way to get to that appointment on time involves being on a bus at the same time as several schoolkids, and there's a 50/50 chance that they'll start taking the mickey out of me along the way. There's also an 100% chance that said bus will be crowded, which will make me paranoid as all hell, making the chances of me making a good impression on anyone (nevermind someone who deals in mental health) equal to 0. Or possibly less than 0, if it's a really bad day.

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You know those trousers I got yesterday. They fit like a dream. I'm willing to overlook the whole going-up-a-size thing, because someone actually designed trousers that fit me all over. They remembered that some bigger people actually have waists! And arses! And thighs that are bigger than their lower legs! And to top it all off, they put all these crazy ideas into a design together!

\o/


(Ummm... If I owe anyone comments, I'm sorry about how late they'll be. Depression decided to kick my arse earlier, and after that I got Lauren's hangover even though she's in America. As much as I hate getting other people's hangovers - and it happens a lot, especially if I know the other person enough - even I have to be impressed that it managed to travel that far. My useless psychic abilities, let me show you them.)

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Recently someone (who has now deleted their blog) made a post about privilege. There were a few problems with it^*, but it was still linked by several people because it had a good metaphor - the writer compared privilege to a gun on a table that can be used against the non-privileged if so desired.

I'd like to propose a new and (in my opinion improved) metaphor: privilege is a knife that the privileged person has had surgically grafted onto them by society.

The privileged person cannot get rid of this knife. Sometimes, they're not even aware that they have the knife - maybe they've had it so long that they forget about it. And that's when they make some small unconscious movement, and they cut someone that they're talking to. They don't mean to - it wasn't something they did on purpose - but it happens.

If the privileged person has enough sense, they keep an eye on the way they move after that, and the nothing of the sort happens again. If not, it keeps happening over and over.

The ones to watch out for, however, are the vindictive types who wonder if they could get away with doing it again. After that, they wonder how deep they can cut the other person. Maybe they even go as far as to wonder if they can kill.

Getting rid of the knives is hugely difficult. It starts with some people wanting rid of their knives, but then they have to convince society that getting rid of the knives is a good idea. The problem is that society won't listen to small groups of people, so the small group has to convince more people. And even when you've got enough people to convince society, you'll still have people who refuse to have theirs removed because it makes them feel superior to other people.

Which is why it feels like we'll never get rid of the knives, I guess.


^*Details of which can be found almost anywhere - if you know where to look.

My hat arrived! Let's have some pictures.

( Me, my hat, and other things )

On the subject of the way I look, I had one of those laugh-or-cry experiences yesterday. There are these three little kids who hang around the area where I live. At a guess, I'd say that the oldest was about 7 years old and the youngest about 4, and they're probably siblings. They play wherever they want and as much as I want to say that an adult's probably looking out for them, you can never see anyone doing so and there's no way you could see them all the time from any of the houses here - the layout of this place is a little weird to say the least.

Personally, I was already worried about their safety before they suddenly decided to start talking to me. I was always taught that talking to strangers wasn't the safest thing to do, and I thought that parents were meant to be more safety-conscious now than when I was younger?

The oldest kid decides that shouting is in order, because I mustn't have noticed that I was being asked anything (this happens a lot, generally).

Oldest kid: *shouts... something*
Me: Pardon?
Oldest kid: What's your name?
Me: Sammie. Why?
Middle kid: *whispers something to oldest kid*
Oldest kid: Are you a boy or a girl?

Oh yeah, let's shout that in the middle of the street. Real polite there. Deciding that, if they're going to ask stupidly impolite questions then they can have an answer that most people don't know what to do with, I settled for "Both" as an answer. Of course, that led to "You can't be both!", to which I merely replied "Can!" before heading for home.

Talking about hearing, did you know that the RNID have set up a service for checking people's hearing? You either phone 0844 800 3838 or go to www.rnid.org.uk/123 and you do a little test. As expected, my left ear didn't do so well (I just checked - it got the worst result possible), and I've been advised to see my GP about it. Because I don't have enough to talk to her about already. Several people have asked me to talk to her because I sometimes have these ridiculously high highs, which make the lows so much worse. And ( this bit's potentially triggering. )

I swear, I need to write less depressing entries.

So, good things that have happened recently include:

• Having three cups of peppermint tea this morning that I made in my own teapot
• Actually finishing my first ever Puff-style drawing, whether it's actually any good or not, which you can see here
• Posted my first areyougame fic here

You know, even the last two aren't happy things. I'm worried like anything that no-one will like them, because as a rule I suck at these things. Plus, a lot of people are staying clear of Torchwood, and no-one seems to read Final Fantasy XII fic unless it's slash (mine's gen and about a character being transgender, which isn't something that I've even heard about in that fandom before).

Of course, this means that my feelings are actually torn between no-one's going to read this and no-one's going to like this. Not both of them can happen, right? Right. It's just that I won't know which one has happened if no-one comments on them, and...

Oh look, there's my paranoia running circles around me again. I should really keep it chained up or something.