how many more days till my birthday?

[schmerica]

Edited to fix text so half this entry wasn't strangely eaten. I am not so crazy that I am starting lj entries midway through sentences.

So, you may have noticed a pattern in my last few friends-locked entries, with regards to me completely losing my shit. The last few days = fun time in Erica's brain. Hi, there, depressive episode! Long time no see! We've missed you!

There's things I should be doing, but I can't make myself do them at all, and really, I'm trying to avoid thinking about them, because I get all panicky and freak out and start beating myself up a whole lot.

But I can't really do anything fun, either. I mean, if you're going to not do your homework and skip classes, it would be nice if you could at least read your books or watch movies or play games, right? Except, oh, the guilt, the crushing guilt. If you're not doing the responsible stuff, fine, but you don't get to do anything worthwhile, either.

Plus, there's also the "unable to hold any social interactions or leave my tiny little safe space" thing. I just spent fifteen minutes talking to fox1013 online and I'm already feeling a little bit weird -- and this is *Fox*, my most darling and comforting of people.

I'm so tired. Just looking around my room makes me tired. It's like every bad thing is further proof of my failure -- as if the fact that I have so much dirty laundry makes me a bad person somehow. And then every good thing, every wondeful bit of Erica-ness -- well. That's almost worse in a way, because it shows than I *can* do that, that I *can* be better, which mean that this, right now -- this is just me being lazy, this is just me falling apart, this is me being weak. I know I can do better and I'm doing this badly anyway.

Mostly I spend a lot of time sleeping. Probably at least 12/24 hours, closer to 16 sometimes. Showers are good, too, nice long ones. Cooking depends -- it can either be much with the comforting, as you cook and cook until you have way more food than you need, or it can be the opposite, and just be more work, too much work to think about, so you leave it alone and don't eat till your stomach is cramping in pain, and event hen you can't manage anything more than plain bread or fingertips of nutella.

I did do some homework today, though, and study for my language quiz, so that's something. And I'm all ready for class tomorrow, and then I'll go and pick up the film for Wednesday and preview it, and work on that.

Right now I think I need to go back to bed again, though.

So, yes. Normally I would feel more shame about this, but as you can see, I'm already pretty much down to incredibly needy at this point. So anybody who wants to give comment porn/fic or tell me nice things? You can be my new favorite.

Comments

[umbo.livejournal.com]

Sweetie, this sounds pretty major--like depression, basically. I'm worried about you. Please talk to someone, okay?

*lots of hugs* from someone who's been there.

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

Well, yes, it's definitely depression -- I mean, god knows I recognize the signs by now. It's just that knowing that doesn't *help* any, you know? It always, always feels like a stupid excuse. And then my mind keeps inviting comparisons with other people ("you don't have it so bad compared to *them*" or "look, she's depressed, too, but she still gets her fucking papers done").

Anyway, yes. Thank you a lot. *hugs*

[brooklinegirl.livejournal.com]

Poor pearl_o. I know the feelings, and man, it just, just sucks. I think school (even when it's like "Yay! learning! And yay! Smartness!") can just do something that makes just everything in life seem really. Fucking. Hard.

I have no porn for you, but there's always woobie Fraser (http://members.tripod.com/happyfriendbox/fraserheaddownwoobie.jpg) to make you go "meep!"

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

The thing is, though, as much as I am idealizing home and wishing for my house and room and family right now, I *know* if I had been living there when this hit, I would be just as hard wishing for school right now. Just instead of all the responsibilities it would be me obsessing over being a loser and not doing anything and dealing with my family and blah blah blah.

*snugs you* Woobie Fraser! He makes me wibble. Thank you, honey.

[dsudis.livejournal.com]

katallison has some good words (http://www.livejournal.com/users/katallison/28929.html).

[lynnmonster.livejournal.com]

ITA with Kat and Dira.

I think of myself as one of the least depressive people on the planet, and yet I recognize *exactly* what you're talking about. Right down to the fingerfuls of Nutella.

::snugs you::

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

*snugs back*

[barely-bean.livejournal.com]

*hugs you* baby, I worry. Talk to someone, please?

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

*hugs back* I kind of just want to call my mother and cry and have her fix everything and make it all better. But I'm going to be twenty in a month and I'm an *adult* and that never worked all that well even when I was a little kid.

[gloss]

Gotcha on the depresso-mode. And I'm so sorry to hear that that's where you're at.

I tried to write you Twitch City porn. But Curtis doesn't really *shower* very often and he's so lazy that he fell asleep halfway through giving Newbie a handjob. Sorry?

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

I tried to write you Twitch City porn. But Curtis doesn't really *shower* very often and he's so lazy that he fell asleep halfway through giving Newbie a handjob. Sorry?

*giggles* Dude, I don't think I need porn -- just that image is entertainment enough.

[katallison.livejournal.com]

You know your situation better than I do, of course, and this may be just one of those hitting-the-air-pocket intervals when the plane drops like a rock and you clutch the armrests and mutter *oh shit, oh shit* and then the plane levels out, and the stewardess comes around with the drink cart and you wipe the brow and settle back in. In which case the stuff Dira linked above may be of some consolation. But if it's the big bad shit, pilot keeled over and the plane spiralling downward, keep in mind that there are pharmacological overrides available nowadays that can be of material assistance in autopiloting things back to level. (And I believe this metaphor is now spiralling downward, and shall abandon it forthwith.)

None of this is meant to be pushy or intrusive, but I speak as someone who lost six years of her life to the big bad shit, years I shall never get back, because we didn't have the pharmacological assists back in those days, and so it's left me a little--vehement, maybe. But anyway, I care a lot about you and it hurts to see you hurting. And bear in mind that though I said "you know your situation better than I do," a key thing about depression is that one's brain feeds one faulty data, and makes flawed evaluations and deductions therefrom. It really can't hurt to get an outside opinion, and perhaps some fine-tuning of the brain chemistry.

Oh, and in the telling-you-nice-things dept.--I actually spent a while this weekend, in the grip of my own depressive episode (wheeee!), going back and reading through a lot of your fiction. Which was an enormous joy, marred only by the teeth-grindingness of how the *hell* can she be so damn good?? and the sad acknowledgement that I can't even be pissily envious of your gifts because you're such a damn loveable person.

So, anyway. This is long, I'll shut up. But let us know how you're doing, OK?

[theodosia.livejournal.com]

May I add a big fat What She Wrote to the above? I've embarked on my first-ever Adventure in Psychopharmacology and am finding it fairly eye-opening in terms of the way it reveals how the body (and its chemicals) affect the mind.

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

*nod* This is definitely true -- my last serious episode like this happened, in fact, because I was an idiot my sophomore year and didn't get the prescription to my antidepressants filled in time. Except this time, apparently, they seem to have just stopped working for no reason I can figure out, and that's, man, really scary when I've been depending on them like I have been for so long.

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

Oh, Kat -- this was really a wonderfully sweet and thoughtful comment to get; thank you so very much, for all of it.

I do think one of the problems I'm having this time is I *don't* feel like I have any idea what's going on. In the past, my depressive episodes have had some sort of logic behind them, something I could point to -- whether it was something situational, or just a matter of me messing up and missing some of my pills. But this time it's out of nowhere, and thus scary.

(It *does* figure that the times I most need to do things and talk to people and fix things are the times I am least able to make myself do so, doesn't it? Alas.)

[fox1013.livejournal.com]

*snuggles*

Will write you comment!fic in a bit, as soon as I decide what will be most inspirational-like.

For now, I love you and am worried about you, but don't worry about any of us. Worry about yourself. Can you talk to your dean or something?

*hugs you tight*

Love you.

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

I love you. Thank you for being here to listen to me.

[hobbledehoy.livejournal.com]

your life is kind of like my life right now. otherwise i would have already barged in with hugs. i'm sorry i'm not good at that, though. . .

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

It's okay, honey. I'm not very good with people right now, anyway. It's half not-being-able-to-be-around-anybody-at-all, and half intense crazy neediness.

I am sorry your life is being like my life. I am not good at barging in with hugs, either.

[china_shop]

Nature baffled him. The more he learned, the less sense it made: seeds that would only germinate in forest fires, insects that ate their mates, salmon swimming upstream to spawn and then die. He continually amassed information, trying to discern some logic, some organizing principle. But the more he knew, the more chaotic it all seemed. Even his own heart -- as much a wilderness as the arctic circle -- bewildered him, no rhyme or reason explaining its continual steady beat.

Certainly there had been women who'd heated his blood, aroused his interest, but for months now he'd taken more pleasure in Ray's company than that of any member of the fairer sex, and where was the sense in that?

***

Fraser looked down at his bagel and lox. "Sometimes I envy salmon."

Ray choked on his coffee. "For what?"

"Their conviction."

"You envy salmon."

"Although I supposed that it's more of a biological imperative."

"You." Ray punctuated the accusation with a stab of his finger. "Are a freak."


***

"Do you-- Perhaps--" Fraser cleared his throat nervously and glanced up at the fireworks, before meeting Ray's steady gaze. "Would you consider--?"

"Yeah," said Ray, his eyes shining with certainty.

Their lips met and, dear God, the facts fell into place with a beautiful logic that made Fraser dizzy. Here was reason enough to defy gravity and current. It terrified him, but there was no longer any doubt. Here was love.

-------
Unbeta'd and somewhat random. Hope it's ok.

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

Fraser looked down at his bagel and lox. "Sometimes I envy salmon."

Ray choked on his coffee. "For what?"

"Their conviction."

"You envy salmon."

Oh, this is wonderful! It's utterly lovely and charming -- thank you so very much!

[china_shop]

You're very welcome. *hug*

[nifra-idril.livejournal.com]

*hugs you incredibly tightly* I'm tired and strung out but I'm'a'gonna write you something sometime very soon. Until then, something very very good is this: OMIGOD RAY AND FRASER LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND ARE SO PRETTY WTF!!?!?*loves you* If you ever need anything? I'm here. And, also, it's impossible to say anything weird to me. I'm the girl who announces that she has popcorn butter on her face.

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

OMIGOD RAY AND FRASER LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND ARE SO PRETTY WTF!!?!?

That is something very good indeed.

*hugs you tight* You are the best of all possible Nifs.

[tazical.livejournal.com]

This sounds exactly what my dad went through. Honestly, speak to your doctor. It may be daunting but if it is depression it's not anything to do with you yourself it's just a chemical imbalance which is easily sorted out. I know it sounds simple when I say it like that but taking the first step to know what to about it is the hardest. And, if it helps, students are five times more likely to suffer it than anyone else. (I had a minor episode myself in my final year- sleeping and wailing and working all through the night because I felt guilty when I wasn't working. Which left me so exhausted I slept all day and got even more guilty about it. Sheesh. Fun times!)

::hugs::

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

*hugs back* Thank you.

[lattara.livejournal.com]

Maybe you should go talk to someone? In the mean time, you have everyone's support.

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

Thank you.

[theodosia.livejournal.com]

Pearl, I'm not much with the insta-porn, but if I tell you how wonderful you really are, will that help? It's not just that your writing is talented in terms of mechanical elements like grammar, prose, structure, characterization and plot, the contents of the stories reveal such heart and wisdom. It's natural at this juncture in your life to be intimidated by the prospect of a big scary life stretching out in front of you, but do believe me, you have so much going for you that will help you negotiate it successfully and happily. ::hugs::

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

Oh, wow, thank you so much, T; those are really wonderful things to hear, especially right now. *hugs back*

[estrella30.livejournal.com]

How about if I just tell you how very much I love you. Will that work?

*smooches and glomps and licks and snugs and hugs you*

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

That works, yeah.

*snugs back tight*

[qe2.livejournal.com]

Tough times for pearl_o, clearly. So sorry to hear it, my dear. Believe me, I've been there more than once, being as how I was diagnosed clinically depressed, lessee, about five years ago now. Zoloft helps: it's no magic wand, nice as that would be, but it does a good job of helping me figure out which way is up, so that I can get my feet on solid ground. (That's almost not a metaphor, really: when I'm in the midst of a serious depression, I feel like nothing so much as a ball spinning in space, and the lack of direction is the scariest part.)

I'm running like a maniac academically, but I promise pillowy comfort porn when I have a minute and a brain cell to spare. Meanwhile: {{{{{pearl_o}}}}}

[pearl-o.livejournal.com]

It's going on five years for me, too, I think -- this spring, anyway. And I think of my pills not as a magic wand, yeah, but they're something, something that allows me to start from a basis where I feel like me, and not ... whoever the hell that person is without them.

Except, of course, when they abruptly stop working for no reason you can figure out. Because that's just scary.

*hugs back*

[sprat.livejournal.com]

Hey, [Bad username or site: erica schmerica @ livejournal.com]. This sounds really, really hard. I've got my own depression-type issues (I think it's almost a case of who doesn't? these days, huh?), so I'm all nodding and wincing in sympathy as I read this entry. I don't have much by way of porny distraction to offer you, but does it help to know that sheesh, even when you're writing about your own depressive episodes, you're wicked fucking talented? And that every time you post a new fic, I race right over to read it? I'm, like, your fan, pretty much. And dude. I don't even know you. :)

Hang in there, hey? It really will feel better, and probably sooner than you think.