Unemployed Watercooler Fridge Buzz Commiseration, Alienation and Mental Anti-Stagnation Society (DNRIYHM)

Yes, and I had all three last night. ;_;

(This is not a migraine, it's just a headache.)

i dont like the 1st 2 so it wouldn't bother me not being allowed it, but i dont fancy having migraines

my aunt gets migraines with aura but no pain. she says she gets like x's in her eyes. tbh that sounds horrible

How long does it take to walk from Abingdon to Dorchester?

I should get out and do some more walks, see all the places I live near but have never visited (or not for years), but my right foot always mysteriously goes numb after a mile or two, which is stopping me going anywhere new :/

(also I am bad at hills, but that's a general unfitness thing, and not a do-I-really-need-to-pay-for-a-physio thing)

and yes, anyone with mental health issues gets a rough ride from the press, but there's also often a hint of "tortured genius"/"excitingly unrestrained wildman" available to men that just isn't to women. Although I suppose the "manic pixie dreamgirl" archetype is somewhere on that spectrum of spontaneity/raw emotion/creativity, but that's mainly just wearing kooky socks and not actually having either your issues or your creativity taken seriously.

We did stop for lunch in the middle, but we started noonish? (there was some... faffing in Abingdon, LOL) and were back in Oxford by 7pm. It's a gorgeous walk, and if you don't go up the Lumps it's mostly flat and quite easy even for unfit lumps like me.

Anyway, I must get out of bed, go for a "run" and shower and get into town.

And stop wittering on about red trousers with cheesecakers.

My visual problems (pre or during migraines) are usually: CANT SEE A BLOODY THING. Very hard to explain. Sure I get the blotches but also I just get... weird eyesight. Also, aphasia. And like my gran says: for someone who likes to talk so much, this is pure hell. lol

I went without caffeine until 6:30 pm today, unintentionally, and by 4pm the headache was so bad I thought I was going to be sick every time I moved. And I don't even drink that much caffeine! Lolz, middle aged addictions.

My head hurts. I have to stop watching grainy videos of Thom Yorke performing cunnilingus on a Prophet*.

*the synth, before anyone gets any ideas

was going to say..

I need to stay off that Other Forum, I've just been involved in an entirely too long discussion of sandals and being "dipped in ginger sex fur" and this cannot be good for my mental health. I'm going to go make breakfast.

dont dip your soldiers in ginger sex fur

Can't help conflating the images and coming up with ginger fur sandals, which I really like the idea of.

Hungover today. GB came over yesterday and we went to the British Museum. At Holborn station my iPhone got lifted out of my pocket, came home, got the phone barred, changed my passwords for *everything*, figured I would never see my Precious again. An hour later some lovely gentledude rang my dad and said "I think I've found the phone of someone you know..."

It was on the Brighton train! Teef musta dumped it I guess? Really strange. Also o.0 at the awfulness of some people vs. the crazy niceness of some other people.

Gentledude is back in London tonight so hopefully Precious and I will be reunited by bedtime.

Aaaahhm, it's things like that that restore one's faith in human nature, when every now and then something does turn out for the best, glad that your Precious is coming home to you, (That reminds me, I should back up all my photos onto the computer because I've got like 1500 photos of Cornwall that I would be GUTTED if I ever lost)

Ginger fur sandals - well, so long as they're vegetarian friendly fun fur - or, rather FREEEEEHHHHHHNNND fur, that would be awesome actually, would totally wear.

> she says she gets like x's in her eyes.

http://www.allaboutvision.com/conditions/ocular-migraine.htm

I've got the Precious, I've got the Precious
/does the I've-got-the-Precious dance

Happy St Piran's Day!

No idea where I'm gonna find a pasty in Streatham, mind.

The protrayal of Sinead O'Connor and Britney Spears is markedly different to that of (say) Stephen Fry and Tony Slattery.

possibly, but Tony Slattery hasn't been seen since, iirc.

Oh yeah, and SFry got loads of abuse at the time.

Both have 'come out' about their MH issues, Sinead and Britney have not. That is their affair, they do not deserve abuse either.

stephen fry got tons of abuse and mocking. Everyone thought he was finished.

and i cant remember the last time i saw tony slattery on tv

This is bordering really close on mansplaining, and I'm not having it. Like, no one is debating that men with MH Issues don't get abuse, but that the quality and tone of that abuse can be really different when it's directed at men. This isn't a fucking oppression Olympics, and I resent the way that men just feel they *have* to point out "oh but that happens to teh mens too!" whenever anyone tries to make a point about the treatment of women. It's not necessary, and it really fucks me off. Makes me want to fuck off back to the Girl Thread and not come back.

The difference is that the men get their abuse in one lump, then it gets forgotten about.

Britney and Sinead get theirs drip-fed over many years, often from the same people that proport to be 'supportive' with regard other female aspects ('size-zero', etc)

New St Piran's Day display name.

http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7058/6807890572_79f2928e88_o.jpg
Because it is today. by john durrant, on Flickr

Ooops is that as big as it looks from here? SORRY!

its just the way he's sitting

Depression feels so bad today, it's like an iron band wrapped around my forehead. This came out of nowhere, the hopelessness, the desolation, the pointlessness, the sense that my whole life is just a wet blanket wrapped round me, and I'm such a wet blanket I can't conceive that anyone else would ever want me around.

And it's at this point that I start to take the ILX meta to heart, it starts repeating in the back of my head like an ugly voice: that it's always the people who are convinced that they know me ~sooooo wellllllll~ who get me and my motivations and internal movements so completely wrong. And yet, and yet... it's like they're privvy to some secret truth, they're right, they've found me out, that I really *am* that much of an asshole, and not just an asshole, but a pathetic one at that, they're right, all my friends secretly (or not so secretly) completely hate me and just wish I would go away and jesus christ, because, you know, I deeply wish I could just go away as well, but I'm chained to this malfunctioning brain like a fucking meat puppet and I hate it.

It's like that, today. And all the chatter and the cheesecake in the world can't seem to dislodge it.

I can only say I... wish I could take it away. Alas, those are stupid words cause they are pointless and sound trite. Or whatever.

Here it's not great either. But in the cash register, not the brain. I am actually doing remarkably well considering I am prone to panic attacks. I guess the pills do work. lol.

Thanks. I am glad that the pills are working for you. You can be proud of yourself if you're holding it together in the face of cash register problems. Blunt problems you can do nothing about. It's hard.

I dunno, I'm just... caught. I feel like I'm wasting this fantastic opportunity, when I could be doing anything in the world with myself right now, and instead I'm staring at the wall and feeling this dull grey numbness right when I need my brain to kick in and be creative, think up solutions, do stuff, you know?

I don't know. Maybe I should read Dante, maybe I should read Marcus Aurelius... it's like I have this toolkit and no idea what to do with it. I was searching for images of trees and woods for an art project and these Dore prints came up, and I was just reminded of my poor 9th grade literature teacher, trying to spoon feed the Inferno into semi-illiterate convent school girls. All those metaphors that didn't make sense when you're 14, but now it's like... damn. Where the sun is silent. I keep thinking about her because she was one of those few teachers who saw what hell I was going through and reached out to me - but thinking about it now, she was going through some kind of hell of her own, she wanted to be a playwright but her husband got a job as a director at some tinytown theatre, so there she was stuck trying to bash medieval literature into the heads of good burghers' daughters. And she told me everyone who amounts to anything hates their school years. But she never told me middle age would be worse, in different ways. I suppose she tried, through her ninth grade poetry syllabus.

I'm sorry; this makes no sense to anyone but me. I hate poetry anyway, but Dore's damn cool.

I'm glad you're OK, and you're hanging in there.

Feeling rather better today. Don't know if it was forcing myself to go out and be social last night, restoring normality having dinner with a friend - or if it was the restorative power of really amazing music. Often come to the conclusion that art is the only thing in the world that really has the power to impact on one's life like that, but then again, art on your own is no fun. One needs both, I think.

OMG I just textmessaged the radio program with the answer to the question "why is lou reed's nickname drella". you can win tickets for his gig. Hahahahah I DONT EVEN WANT TO SEE HIM LIVE. (Nor dead for that matter.)

LOL, that's one of those factoids that's all "why do I even *know*" this, but wasn't Drella Lou and Cale's nickname for Warhol, rather than Lou's nickname?

(ha ha, thanks to the Bowie poll, I just typed "Warhole" and had to go back and fix it.)

((Where is my "anti-Warholes" t-shirt, these days, anyway?))

Ah yes! It was! Duh! :-)

Short for "Cinderella" because of how he would go to the ball.

Going back to this old login, no matter how inappropriate a name it is these days, because it's the only one that isn't banned that seems to be hooked up to a working email address any more. Apologies if anyone is completely confused by the changeover, it's not done with any bad intentions in mind.

ah, it seems like old times.

Yes, complete with me utterly and totally losing my mind. :-(

http://www.ultimate-guitar.com/news/general_music_news/westboro_baptist_church_protest_radiohead_show.html

Argh, financial troubles are no fun.

:(

Troubles suck. I'm sorry.

Today in utter solipsism, I've realised that my problem is not "the internet" - my problem is that I'm completely incompetent, both as a human being, and at human communication. So I'm just going to give up. I'm not sure what that entails.

Giving up worrying about it might be good. Giving up communicating not so much! Don't!

Asking me to give up worrying is like asking me to give up breathing. I can learn to modify or control it, but it's never going to stop, it's not in my nature.

The communication thing... I'm just trying to think of a way to express this that isn't all "oh woe is me" or (oh noes) read by someone as passive aggressive in some way. It's just...

The internet sucks. It's full of awful, horrible YouTube Commenters just looking to tear someone else down to assuage their boredom for 30 seconds. They're everywhere. And it wears me down, so much, dealing with that. Joining a music forum to talk about music, and being YouTubeCommented to death. And then finally finding a forum which isn't full of YTCs, and they don't want *me*. When even the people "defending" you are saying "I don't like her, either, but she's got a right to be here." OK, I get it. You want me to go, I'll go.

I'm clearly so bad at this, why am I even trying? And get back to ILX and it's going through one of its paroxysms of meta and just more "oh my god, you are the worst person ever" and even if you say "yes, I am the worst person ever, but I've been here 10 years and you haven't, so I will clearly mark everything I am involved with SO I AM COMPLETELY FUCKING EASY TO AVOID if you hate the kind of thing I do" and even that is just more evidence of why you are so bad and should be hated even more and pile on more of the crap that makes you defensive and anxious in the first place.

Like, what do you expect me to do? Disappear? I wish I could. If I could push a button and make me go away, I'd do it. That button doesn't exist.

This stuff hurts, and I wish it didn't, but I don't know a way to make it stop hurting.

Loneliness is just the most *pointless* emotion. I don't even understand why it exists.

OK, well, it's obvious why it does exist - because human beings are social animals, and we evolved loneliness to keep us in tribes the same way we evolved physical pain to keep us from accidentally putting our fingers in fires.

But in a post nuclear-family, atomised social landscape, no, really, what *is* the fucking point of loneliness?

Please don't tell me I'm depressed and I should go and see a doctor. I'm not depressed, what I am is incredibly lonely, and rather bored, to the point where my mind is eating itself. I just can't find a point. And it's not a physical problem, it's a problem of disconnection. And I can't see the point of reconnecting at the moment, because I can't seem to find anything I care enough about to reconnect over. There is no club that will have me as a member, and it's become too painful to try, over and again. I'm clearly so *shit* at communicating. Or maybe I'm such an awful person that everything I communicate is as bad as people seem to think it is. I don't know.

I should start writing another novel, or go to some local meetings of something. Or even start looking for a job again. (It's kind of a curse that I've saved so much money because I don't *have* to look for a job immediately, of course, I have decided to put off that particular load of depressing rejection for as long as I can.) I just can't find it in me to want to do anything except lie in bed or sometimes walk through woods.

Sorry this is so long and emo. If that offends you, you didn't have to read it. I kinda had to type it, or I felt my head would explode.

I know; I am sorry I am such a downer.

I should get a livejournal or a shrink or just learn how to STFU and take it and not bleed my pain all over everyone else, it's not fair and no one wants it.

This is also a large part of the reason that most people dislike me.

Oh. This is relevant this morning:

http://www.guardian.co.uk/science/2012/mar/13/why-the-world-needs-introverts

I should probably find a better thread to link it on, though.

Dear MB,

no, you're not going nuts just yet. This is your subconscious speaking. Here is a picture of Thom Yorke's hair doing something absolutely ~adorable~ while he fiddles with his guitar pedals, and also a Jazzmaster. Because I know how much you love Jazzmasters.

http://i.imgur.com/HLlve.jpg

The GrannyPanny trees are budding and almost in bloom, there's a new art exhibit at the library with a local artist you could be supporting, that new pub on the high street has DOOM BAR on tap, maybe you could go and sit in there and ink your sketches while drinking it, instead of moaning that you're not in Cornwall doing exactly the same thing.

Who wants a pint of Doom Bar? I do, even if you're too busy eating worms. Hell, I'll drink the Doom Bar, you draw the worms. Deal?

I was looking through the lots on an online auction house website (a real one, not ebay I mean).

The sort that has "a box of 40 LPs, to contain 2 Hendrix, 4 beatles, etc" type thing.

Anyway, I tried searching "Guitar".. bad idea.

For the rest of the day, I was like "OOH, I want one of those! And that one! And that one!"

Of course, I bid/bought nowt.

Our Alice was in an in-school 'bragging' session with some boy about how many guitars they had in their respective houses. So, we had a think-thought about it and realised we had 13.

One Bass, 4 solid body 6-strings, 2 semi-accs, 2 acoustics, 1 12-string, 2 ukes and I can't remember the last one.

That's not too shabby for a dormant musician.

I remember now, it's another semi-acc, it's made from what feels like matchbox-wood, it sounds awful in an awesome way, but looks hella-cool.

I wish I could still play guitar. It makes my wrist hurt too much, though. :-(

It doesn't stop me from wanting them when I see them, though.