The Tea Tree

I think that I've been a bit secluded on here, which I've been a bit (okay, a lot) in real life as well. So forcing myself to post an update.

First off: the health news I got last month was confirmation that I have an autoimmune disorder, Sjögren's Syndrome. The shit clinic I went to in college found this originally, did not tell me, and then put it on my health record. This was a nasty surprise when I got rejected for insurance, before Obamacare stopped that especially shitty insurance practice. I kind of ignored it because I didn't show the classic symptoms, but in early October I had a very nasty week where my joints hurt horribly, I was exhausted, and furthermore I couldn't really THINK.

I went to the doctor since my knee at that point had been hurting for a full week, and she offered to check for rheumatoid. I mentioned the diagnosis from two years ago, and sure enough: it's there, chilling out, because my body things chronic illnesses are Pokemon.

So far it hasn't done much -- Sjogren's isn't usually diagnosed until people are in their 40s, so I have many years before me to try and kick it in the shins and keep it from getting too severe. Right now my joints hurt horribly, but I think it's my hormones punishing me for not getting pregnant. How dare I, truly.

On the writing front, I am participating in NaNoWriMo, despite this month being crazy for me work-wise. Tonight for instance no writing will be happening despite me being behind a day, because I am simply too exhausted. I am rewriting the second part of Abandoned Gardens, and right now at about 17K (so about 3K behind).

On the life front, one of the top reasons I'm exhausted is not work, but my brain being apeshit. Please enjoy this acid-trip-without-the-acid dream, created by my lovely brain instead of letting me sleep restfully last night, as posted on my FB:

"Okay, really brain? I dream that my family adopted a Basset Hound named Anna, except Anna was apparently some freakish Basset/hawk hybrid considering she suddenly flew off, grabbed a freakin' VULTURE, and began dropping it from a high height to kill it? You realize that seagulls do that to shit like crabs to crack them open, and I don't think it works on things that can, you know, FLY. Also why did the vulture turn into a peacock? And why the FUCK did I then dream that some evil asshat was trying to kill people/take over the world and locked me outside my own house in like, 20 degree weather?

I want a new brain."

Truly. The vulture part was truly gruesome; I will spare you all the details because no one should have to know, and I'd rather just forget about it all. Though raze, I will love you forever if you draw the bonkers bassethawk.

That, in a rambling not-nutshell, is how things are going here. I am actually going to tuck into bed early because right now it hurts to sit, and I know that by tomorrow most of this stupid "How dare you not get pregnant, you must be punished" shit will be gone and I can be a human again.

Hope you've all been well.

Tschuess.

Dreams that I leave work an hour lately, freak out, somehow slip back into work. but I work in some basement, and the main machine-savvy lab personnel is singing to himself as he listens to music, and doesn't seem to notice that my music is on too. I'm terrified of being fired.

Dreams that a good friend and I go to a grocery store, but I'm not a human, I don't know what I am, but it's not a human. I get home and my mother tells me to call the police, claiming good friend kidnapped me, and she makes me anxious.

Dreams that ( TW for disturbing imagery/animal neglect of a sort )

All of these scenarios, and more, all blend in my head into one night, and though I woke up multiple times, I feel like they just continued where they left off.

Basically, I have exactly the face that my new icon does, of my dear Sparkles, a childhood cat who died earlier this year: Dafuq.

Started writing Part II of AG. It'll be nice if I get the first chapter done by tonight, but I have to think about how to proceed from the beginning.

Tschuess.

I'm really bad at sites like these. I used to be good at them, when I was more willing to think about, write down, and discover the common dull-drums and nonsense that is my life and mind.

Suffice to say a few things, though.

First off I passed all of my courses, even the accursed drug delivery, and now have a GPA that I can honestly say I am CONTENT with, one that won't screw me over for jobs. Suddenly jobs seem like a possibility, even if it is a remote one.

Second I am switching research projects to something that will hopefully not only be more useful but also less frustrating.

Third I am finally at the climax of the first part of AG, and thus I hope by the time I graduate, I will have finished the revisions of Part I of the novel.

Also I am trying to cook again. I know once I get back to my apartment I will go back to wanting to hide in my room away from the crazies, and I dread going back there because I fear what will have regrown in my absence. But I will try.

I visited my boyfriend's for a week and it was wonderful, and yet not even a week has passed since my return and I can already feel my stupid frettings about the relationship returning. We had a lovely time, we get along beautifully, we were making each other laugh over the silliest stuff all week, and leaving him behind was definitely one of the harder things I've done. And yet my brain still yaps at me. Such is my life I suppose.

So yes. Sorry for leaving. I will try to read and post more often but I can make no guarantees because I'm just kind of bad at this.

Also you know why my boyfriend is awesome? He buys me DRAGON PEARLS that's why. Also pot necklaces. Pot Necklace is a beautiful necklace that seems sturdy that he bought from some hippie in Ecuador who will likely use the profits to buy weed. It's the best story any necklace could hope to have associated with it.

So yes. Dragon pearls, pot necklaces, and Discworld. These are the things my boyfriend provides me with <3

Also last night I dreamed my graduation was in March instead of May, and I was playing some bingo-like chip game with high school classmates and the back of Neil's head, and then I lost and cried. And then I lost my bookbag and was freaking out because I needed it, and Hari tried to help me find it but finally he just turned to me and told me I should have brought more than a bookbag for a flight, and I replied tearfully "I DROVE", and he sat there awkwardly.

I finally found it in a pile with everyone else's stuff and moved into the room where were graduating, but it was like my high school's auditorium, and when I told the guy I was there to graduate he looked at me sternly and told me that THIS ceremony was for people with presentations. The other guy searched for my name and they finally reluctantly let me in, and dragged me onto the stage, where high school classmates of mine were performing some dance routine based on Nightwish's new album.

I didn't want to sit with the cheerleaders because I figured that would make me stand out, but I was afraid to stand up on the bleachers because my legs were apparently horrifyingly long and I knew I'd fall. I managed some awkward balancing as the high school classmates ran over to try and include me in the dance routine. Somehow I left. THen came back and tried to sing along but the song was not QUITE the song I knew, and so I knew I was just making a fool out of myself.

Then I woke up and realized I had overslept because there are few things more adorably comfortable than a cat laying on your head.

Also wow I wrote about that dream in a beautifully ADHD manner. I'm not sure what to say about that.

Today's goals: get some writing done this evening. Get some reading done while playing the Sims, because A Game of Thrones is interesting. They are plain goals, I guess.

Also: hope the Lexapro isn't fucking my system up. It's such a small hope!

So yeah. Sorry for disappearing. I can't guarantee I won't do it again.

Tschuess.

I don't even remember most of last night's dream except it involved me living in a building that had multiple apartments, one of them taking up two floors that really looked quite fancy; one of them just... A room and a bathroom; mine which was this tight cramped thing at the end of a small staircase; and I think some other apartment? I don't even know.

I do know most of my family was there and I was trying to please them. And that at one point I was pushing some steamer with too many buttons through a parade but something was wrong with it.

And somehow I ended up trying to crawl through this hatch, and told someone that I barely made it due to my hips, and then once I got through the shoot I landed in my upstairs shower that had been relocated to some platform where some guy was giving all sorts of proclamations about how I was the princess or something. Then I started bleeding everywhere and frantically got a pad and shouted while getting changed that yes, I was totally the princess, there to save them (or something), but realized I'd have to show myself to them, and got changed fast enough that the delay was only merely awkward.

Also I think my lab was involved. Maybe. I think I remember a train too. Honestly the plot and scenes were so convoluted and strange I can't even tell you what was going on in the scenes I remembered up there.

So anyway.

Hallo.

I was sort of amused by the responses to my quick post, as I, being myself, looked at that and went "What's the big deal? Why are they so worried?"

Then the malaise really hit and I felt like doing nothing except staring into space at the computer because I decided that nothing mattered anymore.

I hate meds.

Of course then there's the excitement at work which involves this dude I'm calling creepvisor, who seems to think that if he just asks me multiple times in the same conversation if he could "follow" me or "come with me" to lab, that clearly I will eventually say yes. When I didn't, he then asked "Well what floor is your lab on?" Right due, I'm totally going to tell you that so you can stalk me more effectively. Sure. Dealing with you at work wasn't aggravating enough.

At least he hasn't mentioned lunch again. Asking someone "Where do you eat lunch?" is NOT an effective way to try and get to know someone, people. It kind of just creeps them out.

I was actually nervous to go to lab last night because I thought he'd somehow find his way there, but he didn't so, you know, yay.

I also have a boyfriend who has been utterly befuddling me because I keep expecting him to run away as my inherent crazy slowly boils over as the semester continues, and instead he sticks around and tells me he's not going to leave. And my brain goes "But why not?! I'm insane! I must be tiring to date! Why would you stick around?"

Maybe it's because he loves me; that's just a theory though.

Furthermore grad school is kind of this weird mix between "oh god work drowning" and "that's not grad-level difficulty." My project design course gives us quizzes that are literally just vomiting up verbatim what the reading says. You don't even have to do any in-depth reading, not when it asks things like "Did you read the useful article?" (No joke. That was a question once.) Bioprocess Engineering seems like it should be HARD but right now it's just very tedious. Nanobiotechnology and Principles of Drug Delivery are the only two courses who actually are still kind of intimidating.

As far as lab work goes I finally ran a successful experiment and got to watch my cancer cells act mostly confused in the collagen gel. I hope to run another one today but the gels keep being fickle. Cooperate with me, science! In any case my friends seem surprised by how much time I actually SPEND in lab, which has me like "? Isn't this what I am supposed to do?"

And then of course working at the dining hall on weekends.

Dropping a class has given me sleep recovery time on Mondays and Wednesdays. I feel like come October I will be worshiping this time.

So to my friends: I am really sorry I have sort of dropped off of the face of the planet but I am so caught up in this craziness that I am not really speaking to ANYONE unless they talk to me first, the lone (barely) exception being the boyfriend. Some of you I'd love to contact but you keep going and being invisible 90% of the time on AIM so I have to just hope you surprise me :( (no seriously, smw, what's up with that? It's been utterly baffling me for weeks. xD )

Also my ability to write has been severely compromised by "not enough time" and "not enough energy". Which I really, truly hate. I wrote something for my bf that I may get up here later today. It doesn't help that the lack of motivation is like "Just give up your dreams of being published. It's never going to happen." It's really great inspiration to write.

And so that's that, I feel! The joint pain is still around, so I may actually take the plunge and make a Gannett appointment to figure out seriously, WTF is up, why are my legs hurting. However, my priorities are still ruined toward being a perfect student and worker, so. I may be talking out of my ass.

If you have any specific questions, feel free to ask them. Or you can request writing off of me. Maybe if OTHER PEOPLE want something...

Now time to run to lab, with the hopes that my gels will cooperate.

Tschuess.

So I'm reading old posts on my LJ, to try and get a sense of what I was like back in high school. This was inspired by recently visiting my high school, in order to get Girl Scout cookies from my AP Government teacher. I felt shy, quiet, and disconnected from the high school world -- like it was ages ago, like I didn't know about it or what to say.

I've felt that way about a lot of things, lately.

Reading the old entries is fascinating. The thing is, though I whined and bitched and fretted a lot, I was a very insightful high school senior. Though I denied my anxiety, it is plain as day, as are my desperate attempts to reason through it. But also clear are other things. Acknowledgements that I won't get anywhere if I don't push myself a bit. Acknowledgement that parents will be parents.

I feel like I may have lost that, somehow. That I have somehow matured backwards, skidding on that scale. I'm not sure it's possible for someone to do that. I'm not sure if it's just the depression talking.

It's talked a lot lately.

My AP Government teacher seemed very excited to see me, and seemed to be keeping track of my life nearly better than I could. I saw two other teachers, my AP Calculus and AP Stats teachers; I would have liked to see more but I could not find them, and felt weird peaking into rooms. But both of the others, upon hearing I graduate in May, were shocked that time had flown by. My AP Government teacher just said "I know."

So do I, my friend.

All of them asked of my plans. I told them all how I'm getting a graduate degree at Cornell. My AP Government teacher commented that it made sense that I would stay at Cornell, because "You are already at the top. Why go elsewhere?"

She has a point. A new perspective perhaps. I am stuck in the perspective of "never good enough". I have a 2.725 GPA. That's a B-, more or less even. My grades poorly reflect that, being mostly C's balanced out by the random A's. It's below a 3.0, and I cannot convince myself that that is somehow a good thing. So many places want a 3.0GPA or above. They do not seem to care if I come from Cornell or not.

That and I don't have research experience, just experience working at a dining hall and pushing my way through courses. Right now I am taking a mere 10 credits, three courses and a seminar. I feel inferior. Not good enough. Not smart enough.

Hence the different perspective. It's hard to think I'm at the top. I feel like I'm at the bottom. What I have to remind myself of -- think of, perhaps regularly -- is that I'm at the bottom of the top.

In the grand scheme of things, that may not be so awful.

I still don't have a graduate advisor. I still fear I won't be able to pay for my apartment. I still fear that other shoe dropping, falling.

But sometimes I need that bit of different perspective, even if it comes from not knowing all of the details. Or does it? I do not know. I found I did not speak much. I didn't know what to say, anymore.

The facts are odd to sift through, anyway. I finished my undergraduate degree a semester early. Technically everything I'm taking now is supposed to be for grad. I was told how to find an advisor. Eventually I should get one. But I freeze and become certain it won't happen.

I feel like I missed a bit of everything, everywhere, and now it's coming back to bite me. But is it really? I don't know. It could be the anxiety, or it could be truth. I suspect it's a mix of both.

Maybe it's that everyone seems so excited and proud of me, and I cannot match their feelings.

Maybe it's that never-ending doubt -- almost a certainty I'll fail.

Always thought that way, always will? I suppose that's what the book my therapist told me to read is for.

It feels weird thinking I may be able to handle life less now than I did in high school. I know that's not true, of course. Back then I just bottled everything up, hence why I had such extensive LJ posts in the first place. At least now I try to interact to people. I just don't know if I do it right. *chuckle*

I'm really tempted to set my status to something about the depression, to see what people say. It's been around for, what, five months now? Stupid stuff, doesn't want to leave. I really will have to talk to my psychiatrist about these meds.

But anyway. It was nice to see some teachers again, if only for the encouragement ((refreshment; um, what?)) and to relive the memories. My AP Government teacher even mentioned something about seeing my graduation on FB or something, which kind of surprised me. I guess I just assumed no one would care anymore.

Oh well.

Also, can I say it's just really weird to think one of my teachers (AP Government teacher, of course) was one of the first to really point out how weird/problematic my eating habits are? Go, go observant teachers. I still wonder if my AP English teacher noticed the depression.

In other news, AG is a pain in the ass. I'm trying to write the novel. I really am. But I just can't get into it. I keep getting stuck at the end of scenes, interestingly enough. Not sure what's up; I will keep trying. This will be one of my few chances to write the novel in a while, so I must take advantage of it.

But instead I'm playing League of Legends. I have this sort of love/hate/fear relationship with LoL. I find it fun. But it scares me because it involves other people and I'm sort of terrible at it and I don't feel like I'll ever be good at it. I still played three games in a row, but I felt inadequate in almost all of them. Granted, I was doing better than this one other guy, so I'm not a total noob. Just 95% of one. *laugh*

Also the CT weather hates me. Every time I plan something with my cousin Marie, the weather always turns disastrous. It doesn't like us getting together and planning nefarious deeds, of course.

And my mother and I have been mostly getting along despite a message she sent me where she basically went "You told me you didn't care about Dragon Day. You could have not invited me. My feelings are hurt." No, that does not make any more sense in context. And no, she has not brought it up since. Spill out the hurt, then leave the victim upset. Family strategy.

Also apparently the psychiatrist at her job is Mr. Hitler because he was yelling at them for stuff and my mother just doesn't like him. I feel like Mr. Hitler wasn't a Muslim, nor a psychiatrist, nor from Pakistan.

I also went to the dentist today. I guess my body got sick of the pain -- she had the suction/air thing rested on my lip while my mouth was wide open, and for some reason it HURT like hell. Kept clenching my fists, twitching, etc. to try and ignore it. I guess it didn't work because she went to do something -- I think open my mouth further -- and I just spontaneously pushed her hand away. I instantly apologized and she didn't seem too surprised/annoyed, but still, way to go feral on the dentist, self.

Of course at one point she went "Oh, I see this [wisdom tooth] is still healing" and then POKED THE HEALING AREA WITH THE DENTAL HOOK a few times, which stung like hell and left me even more sore. This being the same side she was placing the suction tube on. So maybe my instincts knew what they were doing when they tried to push her away. Leave my poor healing surgical wound alone. D:

Oh life.

To end this entry before I lose interest and never post it: one of the best weird dreams ever.

First it started off strange. One of my freshman coworkers and I were driving around in my Prius in the pedestrian streets of a Chinatown. We came upon these large red Chinese/"Oriental" designed arches. We drove through them, and parked the car, and got some tea and sat on rugs and decided to eat there. The owner looked like he wanted to object to us bringing the car through the gate of his restaurant, but hey.

Then I think I must have woken up, likely due to a text from K who hadn't slept enough. Then I fell back to sleep, and into the silliest dream ever.

I had been kidnapped by supervillians. I was desperate for a way to escape. Finally, I got free, and was running across this sunny, sandy land, frantic, certain they'd catch me...

And that's when I started kayaking down aqueducts. Without the kayak. Or the oar. I was sitting, legs straight out in front of me, wearing I'm pretty sure nothing but a white towel, and making the motions of kayaking. I moved forward like I actually WAS in a boat. The water was crystal clear and somewhat bluish, though not as blue as the sky, with its puffy white clouds. I passed by some kids who were also kayaking without kayaks, and we waved at each other.

Eventually I found a sign on sandstone sewer-like walls that had an arrow with the word "Olin Library". Excellent! I fake-kayaked to the end of the aqueduct, then got out of the water and hustled up a sandstone staircase, out of the mysterious sewer tunnel that the aqueduct emptied into, and out into sunlight. Yes, sunlight, in Ithaca.

I found Neil, who gave me a very brief hug before declaring "Sorry, I don't like hugs" and walking off. To another group of people. One guy whom he hugged. I was hurt and a little miffed. After all, I had just gotten back from being kidnapped. How dare he!

Of course it wasn't long before the supervillians were back and a bunch of us were facing off. One of the supervillians, who is actually someone who comes to the LARP sessions, tried to cast tear gas on me. Yes, cast. I protested, saying that he couldn't cast it. Why? Magic didn't work that way. As I lectured, you see, you need to use the elements, and tear gas isn't an element. Well, okay, I suppose an Earth Mage could morph the earth into gold and then shatter that to make tear gas, so you know what, do that. But no you don't have to make the gestures. They aren't necessary, you can just do it.

In the background, one of the real-life storytellers for our LARP slammed his head into a conveniently-located table.

And shortly after that, I woke up. It wasn't until I was in the shower that it started to filter back and I asked "Wait, what?"

I have the best weird dreams. I do love the logic of turning gold into tear gas. I didn't know it worked that way!

Also poor Neil, my subconscious makes him act like a huge ass in my dreams, without fail, every time.

Speaking of Neil, my mother has twice mentioned this break that maybe I will "rekindle my romance" with Neil. UH HOW ABOUT "WE'RE JUST FRIENDS" MOM AND IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS KTHXBAI.

So yeah. My life is still strange. I'm still strange. Some things never change.

Now to see if I can something out of this poor novel.

Tschuess.

I was in a bar. It was a dingy sort of place, dark and wooden, with a few steps leading to a private area, blocked off from the rest of the bar. It was quiet, and we were the only people there, sitting in the private area. I do not recall who my companions were; they may have been family. I felt like I had been there before, and perhaps I had been. The waitress was the most cheerful part of the whole scene; she may have worn pink. Pink was pretty important in this dream, which is hilarious, because I hate that colour.

Then I was given advice by some woman. The world was going to end, and I was going to start it. What I needed to do was get to this cabinet and shatter this artifact. It was glowing pink, and once it was broken, the whole process would begin. Then, after a bit, the world would be reborn and all would be well or something, though who knows what was wrong in the first place. I was with a few other people, but I am not sure who -- Neil may have been one of them, but I really don't know.

So somehow I ended up on the roof of the bar. The entire atmosphere was extremely dark, with some orange undertones, like the sky was on fire. There was a metal cabinet on the roof. I think Neil was standing near it. I remember noise from a fight, and the creaking of metal. I opened the cabinet and found TWO pink glowing objects. Crap, I thought. I started with the thin metallic one, about the size and thickness of a laptop motherboard. Using my mind, I caused it to shake violently, but I could not get it to break. So I moved to the other one, which looked like a lump of rock with a glowing pink core. This moved much more easily, and I rocked it off of its ledge, and it broke on the ground.

The pink core was split and its glow faded, leaving something clear and silver, like a pearl. I was afraid to stomp on the pieces, so I broke a few more with my mind, though it was difficult. Then I got nervous. Shouldn't the world had reacted by now? What if this was the wrong piece to break?

I turned to the woman who had been advising me -- and I remember her looks now, long black hair, nondescript black dress -- and asked her about it. She confirmed that yes, I had broken the wrong one. Panicked, I asked her if I should go back in time and break the other one instead. She told me that no, that wouldn't be necessary... And indeed, everything swung into motion.

Basically everything started falling apart. I remember the buildings falling, except the one we stood on. I thought, with relief, that the world must have realized we wanted it to end, and thus went through with it. Smoke was spewing from the sky. The sounds of the fight had gone away; now I just heard the sounds of everything slowly collapsing.

Then John appeared. I had been warned he would. He was in a trance of some sorts, floating over to the building from no where. His eyes were glazed, and he was sort of discorporeal. I walked over and he dropped a ring of keys into my hand, and said something, I don't know what. His voice was distant, and I was heart-broken. I wanted to hug him, get him to stay, do SOMETHING, but I knew that he would float away and I would never see him again. He had served his purpose in the world's end and was going to die, pretty much. I was crushed watching him float away into the smoke.

Of course then flames started spewing everywhere and that was pretty distracting. And I guess I woke up then, because I can't remember anything else after that.

I woke up feeling a lot less depressed than I have over the past few days. THEN I remembered the scene with John and was like "WHOA brain, what the HELL are you doing?" Poor John. It's not often that my FRIENDS die in my dreams. I'm going to assume he was reborn with the rest of the world.

This is what happens when you read about Ragnarok late at night.

The depression has gotten pretty bad -- I was up so late reading Wikipedia to try and make myself too tired to think (it basically worked -- I was thinking, of course, but not about anything especially depressing). For some reason I decided to also read AIM archives and figured out the depression started to linger in around mid-October -- which I already knew, but hey.

And it's frustrating, because I found out yesterday that my GPA has managed to jump up to 2.725 -- basically the minimum requirement for me to get into Cornell's grad program. So I actually have a chance of getting in. And yet even that couldn't shake the depression off. It has dug its claws in quite deep. Bah.

But after this dream I felt a little better. I'm not sure why, but I feel like the fact that things went well and as planned even after I "screwed up" has some symbolism to it. Almost like some part of my brain trying to tell me "Hey, it'll all be okay." And then it goes and has John possibly die because let's face it, my brain can't be sane and reasonable for more than five minutes. *chuckle* But yeah. Now I feel a little "bleh" but that's probably because a friend DIED IN ONE OF MY DREAMS. Thanks brain that's such a helpful way to make me feel better! *shakes head*

So I'm hoping today will be a better day, though I'm not that hungry right now, which is problematic, because I definitely should be. Stupid stomach. Time to force some food into it anyway. And some tea, because tea is awesome.

Tschuess.