I rant about this again:

Some people have diabetes, or heart problems, or lupus, or whatever. When shit gets really life-threatening, you tend to tell your friends and family, and ask for support (lets find a cure! come visit me in the hospital!). This is different with mental illness, because of all those normative values and stigma telling us that it's a personal weakness, and therefore YOUR FAULT (and not something biological like say, diabetes, or heart problems, lupus, or whatever). And we all know that your brain is separate from the rest of your body, and mental illnesses should be treated like personal defects of character, and not treatable medical conditions.

I have so many friends who are so against medication and therapists. They say, "it's all mental. You just have to train yourself." Sure, sometimes that's very true. But sometimes, in cases that actually qualify for illness (or "meet criteria"), diet, exercise and discipline don't really cut it. Sure, for someone who is feeling a little low lately, these methods are super effective. And people with reoccurring episodes should practice these preventative behaviors when they are feeling better.

HOWEVER, I think it is extremely irresponsible to adopt the attitude that it's simply mind over matter, especially for mental illness. How are you supposed to eat right and exercise if you've lost your appetite and you're sleeping 14 hours a day? How are you supposed to "make yourself"do anything when you're having uncontrollable thoughts like "I suck. This doesn't matter anyway. I deserve to feel like shit." I'm sure you can get through that yoga routine...once you're done with that random crying spell brought on by feelings of overwhelming guilt, shame and despair. Yes, it sounds dramatic. But it should. This is very serious.

So I'm obviously pissed about the whole thing. I've been a "stigma buster" for NAMI since I was 14, and encourage everyone to actually know what they are talking about when saying "ugh medication...ugh therapists..." If this is your stance, you probably haven't seen what most helping professionals have seen. When people are in crisis, this shit helps. And you know whats even better? To get help before a crisis. Feeling "okay" from diet and exercise is not good enough. Can you imagine living your whole life only feeling "okay?"

I'm sorry, I just think that taking 10mg of something and seeing a shrink 45 minutes a week, and feeling like a functional person is waaay better than NOT taking meds or seeing a shrink and sleeping for 11 hours a day and having constant feelings of emptiness and suicide. Just a thought, tho.

o fuck it.

i cant post a bunch of things i wrote, because im scared that it would hurt your feelings.

see this for further.

my understanding of modern poetry

It’s like Mad Libs, only not in the back seat of a car or not in the first through sixth grade. It’s also like vomiting on a page everything that your brain won’t let you synthesize into a cogent emotion that you can sympathize with somebody later, when you’re older and less fucked up (or later today, and more fucked up). Oh, and then you take the vomit and you put a frame around it, and probably get rid of most of the uninteresting fluids (leaving the undigested parts, the stomach lining and blood—if there is blood. Actually, blood is more interesting, but will be described as “salient,” “visceral,” or other words that smart people use when they don’t know what else to say).

fold

Born contrary: Early and impatient,

I can’t tell (not one to hold out on my hand, but I can’t tell).

I can’t bluff—but misdirect

(As anyone would rather tales of their own tells told).

Convinced of a con, he calculates my pockets and

Shrugging them off as shallow,

Demands high stakes (but doesn’t go all in).

I’d rather be silent,

Holding drowsy, apathetic crowns close,

Than be caught empty handed, flushed with a smirking swagger.

I hope you like this title

Shreds of papery skin like feathers, ruffled and anticipating

the checking and rechecking double-checking.

Because my insatiable pins and needles in a

temporal space I can no longer scratch, calm or reach

will take her from the doors and windows and keys forgotten.

My arteries hammered, strummed and plucked like thrash metal

when the creak of sneakers creeps up the stairs.

Now knowing that you’re looking, I multiply by at least 2.

Every sentence that comes out feels like codes,

a word game, highlight and translate, replacing

adjectives, verbs, people, places and things, with

sounds that will make you stay.

Supposed to be makes my fingers bleed and

my moth eaten lips a history of when I last fucked it all up again.

Present and not present, watching and watched,

only feeling identified through the same scrutiny that silences me.

Hypomanic Train Thoughts

Everybody gets a little hypomanic after drinking coffee. It doesn't last long, but it totally happens to most people.

Anyway, I get hypomanic on the train 'cause thats when my medicine (I have ADHD) and coffee both kick in simultaneously. It's probably for the best that this happens while I am (usually) not around anyone I know. I've stopped writing down all of the ideas I get on the train, because they were usually intricate business plans that would make me sad later, when I no longer had the energy to follow the plan.

So today I had the following thoughts:

1) We should just fucking own the word "hipster." Seriously you guys. I was visiting my friend in Philly this past summer and he almost hit me when I referred to his socialist style run, art adorned, PBR'd house as a "hipster colony for lost boys." Ugh. we all know grown-ups who are all "yeah...I was a hippie." When you are telling your nieces/nephews/children all about your life as a crazy 20-something (in response to their adolescent embarrassment of being seen with you), you will refer to yourself as a hipster. If you make the argument that "hipster" refers to an "erudite class of bourgeoisie, marked by affluence, ennui, and social apathy," shut up. You're a fucking hipster.

2) My office has a personality disorder. Specifically a Cluster B personality disorder. Specifically Borderline personality disorder. It meets the following criteria:

1. frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment:

(the bathroom door only gets stuck when I'm about to leave for the day)

2. a pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation.

(It is either FREEZING or a SAUNA. The lighting is either THE SUN or THE LUREY CAVERNS)

3. identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self.

(Since I have been at Sinai, this office space has been filled with 5 different programs)

5. recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior

(Those holes where a drill and possibly a cabinet once were are VERY obvious--need attention much?)

7. chronic feelings of emptiness

(In the creepiest way ever, I suppose due to the plaster walls, you can never tell when other people are in the office with you. It always feels like a ghost town, even when it's packed)

THATS 5. IT MEETS CRITERIA.

horseapple, and other stuff we eated

I don't know if I'm alone here, but it kind of weirds me out when people list (in awesomely boring detail) what they ate. And please, also notice that these people rarely/never ask you to reciprocate with your own super interesting menu rundown. And they rarely/never warn you "hey, do you want to know what I ate previously to right now?" No. It's just an opening statement for bait, a half second pause, and then they just start talking, as if you are hanging on their every fucking word. You might as well tell me what your shit looked like today.

People who agree with me:

"yeah, its just as boring as when people tell you their dreams, only more arbitrary and retarded."

--josh

"...a blog where you make a post everyday with a list of the things you ate that day - except it's a joke. and not an actual list would be funny...17 peanuts, half a box of pop tarts and a head of cauliflower with sesame dressing, [me: 3 1/4 jelly beans (popcorn flavored)], white chocolate fondue, [me: instant creme brulee (with wasabi foam).]"

--robin