And so it goes.
Apparently I had "Dance To the Music" by Sly & the Family Stone rated four stars in iTunes. What's wrong with me? I friggin' love that song! A lot like I love Wil Wheaton. I will NOT by myself a $20 audiobook, I will NOT buy myself a $20 audiobook! *closes webpage*
In news of the awesome variety, one of my coworkers showed up on Friday with a bag full of music for me to take home and copy! Cue much flailing and glee! I now have an additional thirteen gigabytes of jazz, prog rock, folk pop, R&B, and The Musical Version Of The War Of The Worlds (which falls under the heading of prog rock but deserves its own mention because it's sheer, distilled awesome).
As for other topics...
YOU GUYS. I'M ALMOST TWENTY-FIVE.
I've been aware that this was coming. In my dark, desperate days this past winter, it was one of the few things I could think of to write in my day planner as Something To Look Forward To. Seeing "The big quarter century!" written in the schedule gives me a weird feeling, a mix of remembered panic and desperation and what do I have to look forward to after that? from the time I wrote it, combined with the excitement and anticipation and delight that has always heralded my birthday and the knowledge that I've got another entirely new year of experiences to look forward to. [[My birthday has more psychological impact on me than the New Year of the Gregorian calendar. I don't apologize for it.]]
I'm confused about how I feel about this birthday. It's less than two weeks away and I'm still not sure if I'm actually looking forward to it, and if I am, if I'm looking forward to it for healthy reasons. There's an insidious little part of my psyche that keeps prodding at the concept of ~birthday~ and pointing out that it means I'm growing older, growing closer to death. And then I go, OH GOD I'M OBSESSED WITH DEATH and feel like I'm turning into my mother on top of having the lingering effects of my breakdown.
On the other hand, my entire youth was filled with the concept of aging in a positive light. I remember writing in my diary more than once that I couldn't wait to grow older, to see what new experiences age would bring, to have the days of excitement and the days of boredom and the evolving philosophies and new acquaintances and maybe someday a family and grandchildren and growing old with a million cats and a house with a fireplace and a wooden rocking chair. By the time I was fifteen I was fully under the sway of depression, although of course I didn't realize it at the time, and I honestly don't think the concept of "aging" occurred to me for years because I was so wrapped up in just getting my assignments done and figuring out what to do with myself.
I'll say up front that I am most definitely not where I thought I'd be when I was 25.
My concept of life-by-25 for years was scheduled thusly:
-study abroad in Ireland while in college
-move overseas permanently, preferentially somewhere near Galway
-have awesome job, earn plenty of money, be vastly successful
-fall in love with a nice, charming Irish boy
[[By 30, 35 at the latest, my only goal was to own a horse. Then I'd know I'd really made it. It made sense at the time. I never claimed to be a sensible child.]]
Where I am-at-25 is thus:
-a thesis and a foreign language exam away from a Master's Degree
-living in a five-person apartment in the outskirts of Boston
-working as an entry-level administrator in a technical school
-eternally single and increasingly wondering why any self-respecting woman would willingly subject herself to a relationship with a boy, boys are ridiculous, most of my friends these days are guys and I have never seen so much drama in my life orz
[[I have to admit that I'm giving thought to stealing HM!S's girlfriend away from him. She carries around a drop spindle and the other day she brought apple turnovers and was making chainmaile in our living room. Swoon.]]
I definitely never expected the severe depression, the nervous breakdown, the difficulty in getting any job, the dearth of money and the overwhelming loans.
I'm doing much, much better at this point than I thought I'd be doing back when I wrote "The big quarter century!" down, though. I am employed (a month and a half to go before the school/company hires me directly), I'm finally back to paying my own rent and utilities and not having panic attacks when people suggest going out for brunch or something. I'm still really sensitive to mentions of death and self harm and especially suicide (Elton John's bouncy honky-tonk "I Think I'm Gonna Kill Myself" came on my iPod earlier today and I froze for a moment, and I can't listen to Utada Hikaru's "Me Muero" which has such a great melody but has the line "Now and then I'm suicidal" in the refrain and never fails to make me cringe) but I no longer picture myself tumbling down the stairs and breaking my neck or walking out into traffic and I rarely think about how fragile the skin of my wrists is. I do still have paranoid moments where I can imagine the bus hopping the curb or someone attacking me in the big open parking lot behind the school (which I never go into anyway, so yes, definitely paranoia).
But I'm feeling secure enough and hopeful enough that I told my psychopharmacologist that I was rethinking my desire to go up another step in antidepressant dosage. If she'd actually returned my phone calls in March and April, I'd have demanded an increase because I was spending so much time just feeling vaguely rotten and being terrified of it. When I saw her at the beginning of this month, though, after four weeks of steady employment and being mostly self-sufficient and being able to have fun and enjoy things more, I decided I'd really much rather wait and see how things evolved during the continued transition to real employment and full monetary self-sufficiency and relaxing my constant stressors enough to actually breathe once in a while.
No, I'm definitely not where I expected to be. But frankly, I rather like where I am in my life right now. I love Boston, I love my stupid drama queen guy friends and my quriky nerdy girl friends, I'm not challenged at work but my colleagues are really nice, entertaining people and give me plenty of stories to tell. I've begun regaining my ability to step away from my computer desk and seek events and hobbies that I'd lost the ability to concentrate on. I'm starting to feel urges to volunteer/help out in the community, which is a huge part of my family legacy and is something I did without even thinking about it until the depression really cut off my legs as a teen. [[The only shift for the NPR telethon fundraiser that worked with my schedule was full by the time I asked about it - fifteen hours after getting the email! - but World Music/Crash Arts should be starting up in a month or so and I expressed my interest in that almost two months ago, and it's about time I checked Hire Culture again to see what volunteering opportunities they have listed right now.]]
All in all I'm pretty happy with the way things are going for me, as I approach what is likely to be close to an actual 25% of my lifespan. :)
I've still been a little isolated, and to tell the truth for the last couple of weeks I've not been at my computer nearly as much as I have been for the last six years or so, I'm way behind on pretty much everything and I'm sorry for being a crap friend to most of you. <3
trivialaffair, I'm so glad you're continuing to recover. Needles are icky and surgery is ickier but sdlfkgjs I have missed you so much and I love that you're dealing with this the way you are. You're being really strong, no matter what you think. Don't feel guilty about having low days, okay? Just keep getting better and thank your sister for being honest with you AND for taking such good care of you. No more trying to wash dishes!
tatoeba, you finished TtCL!!!!!!!. I've had the page open all weekend, trying to figure out what I can possibly say about it and I keep coming back to simple keymashing and sparkly heart .gifs or something. You finished it and there were good feelings all the way around and there was closure after the breakup and a fashion show and an entire room in the apartment just of clothing. I loved the entire series and I still absolutely adore your writing. You're awesome.
idealforcolors, are you heading back Somerville-ward this summer? I can't remember if you were or not, but if so definitely give me a call! YOU'RE almost 25, too! :D :D :D
honooko, CONGRATS ON PASSING THE KOREAN EXAM! Also, congrats on surviving the mosquitos at that camp. Damn little buggers...!
zukkii, sorry my connection keeps crapping out and kicking me out of gchat. I hope your weekend was less stressful than you were anticipating. Just remember, just a few more months!
mujun, are all the plants on your balcony ok? Storms are awesome but it sucks when things blow over. Also, you make me madly in love with OhMaru. And you. ❤
My only real plans for the weekend were to finish reading Sing Them Home by Stephanie Kallos and The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson. I managed the first yesterday but today I wrote and reorganized my closet instead of reading. That means it has to wait until next weekend because I'm at a point where I know that the next time I pick that book up I am going to be utterly engrossed and won't eat or sleep until I've finished it. I keep glancing at it, lying there so innocuously on the floor by my bed. Musssssssst resisssssssssssst.
In news of the awesome variety, one of my coworkers showed up on Friday with a bag full of music for me to take home and copy! Cue much flailing and glee! I now have an additional thirteen gigabytes of jazz, prog rock, folk pop, R&B, and The Musical Version Of The War Of The Worlds (which falls under the heading of prog rock but deserves its own mention because it's sheer, distilled awesome).
As for other topics...
YOU GUYS. I'M ALMOST TWENTY-FIVE.
I've been aware that this was coming. In my dark, desperate days this past winter, it was one of the few things I could think of to write in my day planner as Something To Look Forward To. Seeing "The big quarter century!" written in the schedule gives me a weird feeling, a mix of remembered panic and desperation and what do I have to look forward to after that? from the time I wrote it, combined with the excitement and anticipation and delight that has always heralded my birthday and the knowledge that I've got another entirely new year of experiences to look forward to. [[My birthday has more psychological impact on me than the New Year of the Gregorian calendar. I don't apologize for it.]]
I'm confused about how I feel about this birthday. It's less than two weeks away and I'm still not sure if I'm actually looking forward to it, and if I am, if I'm looking forward to it for healthy reasons. There's an insidious little part of my psyche that keeps prodding at the concept of ~birthday~ and pointing out that it means I'm growing older, growing closer to death. And then I go, OH GOD I'M OBSESSED WITH DEATH and feel like I'm turning into my mother on top of having the lingering effects of my breakdown.
On the other hand, my entire youth was filled with the concept of aging in a positive light. I remember writing in my diary more than once that I couldn't wait to grow older, to see what new experiences age would bring, to have the days of excitement and the days of boredom and the evolving philosophies and new acquaintances and maybe someday a family and grandchildren and growing old with a million cats and a house with a fireplace and a wooden rocking chair. By the time I was fifteen I was fully under the sway of depression, although of course I didn't realize it at the time, and I honestly don't think the concept of "aging" occurred to me for years because I was so wrapped up in just getting my assignments done and figuring out what to do with myself.
I'll say up front that I am most definitely not where I thought I'd be when I was 25.
My concept of life-by-25 for years was scheduled thusly:
-study abroad in Ireland while in college
-move overseas permanently, preferentially somewhere near Galway
-have awesome job, earn plenty of money, be vastly successful
-fall in love with a nice, charming Irish boy
[[By 30, 35 at the latest, my only goal was to own a horse. Then I'd know I'd really made it. It made sense at the time. I never claimed to be a sensible child.]]
Where I am-at-25 is thus:
-a thesis and a foreign language exam away from a Master's Degree
-living in a five-person apartment in the outskirts of Boston
-working as an entry-level administrator in a technical school
-eternally single and increasingly wondering why any self-respecting woman would willingly subject herself to a relationship with a boy, boys are ridiculous, most of my friends these days are guys and I have never seen so much drama in my life orz
[[I have to admit that I'm giving thought to stealing HM!S's girlfriend away from him. She carries around a drop spindle and the other day she brought apple turnovers and was making chainmaile in our living room. Swoon.]]
I definitely never expected the severe depression, the nervous breakdown, the difficulty in getting any job, the dearth of money and the overwhelming loans.
I'm doing much, much better at this point than I thought I'd be doing back when I wrote "The big quarter century!" down, though. I am employed (a month and a half to go before the school/company hires me directly), I'm finally back to paying my own rent and utilities and not having panic attacks when people suggest going out for brunch or something. I'm still really sensitive to mentions of death and self harm and especially suicide (Elton John's bouncy honky-tonk "I Think I'm Gonna Kill Myself" came on my iPod earlier today and I froze for a moment, and I can't listen to Utada Hikaru's "Me Muero" which has such a great melody but has the line "Now and then I'm suicidal" in the refrain and never fails to make me cringe) but I no longer picture myself tumbling down the stairs and breaking my neck or walking out into traffic and I rarely think about how fragile the skin of my wrists is. I do still have paranoid moments where I can imagine the bus hopping the curb or someone attacking me in the big open parking lot behind the school (which I never go into anyway, so yes, definitely paranoia).
But I'm feeling secure enough and hopeful enough that I told my psychopharmacologist that I was rethinking my desire to go up another step in antidepressant dosage. If she'd actually returned my phone calls in March and April, I'd have demanded an increase because I was spending so much time just feeling vaguely rotten and being terrified of it. When I saw her at the beginning of this month, though, after four weeks of steady employment and being mostly self-sufficient and being able to have fun and enjoy things more, I decided I'd really much rather wait and see how things evolved during the continued transition to real employment and full monetary self-sufficiency and relaxing my constant stressors enough to actually breathe once in a while.
No, I'm definitely not where I expected to be. But frankly, I rather like where I am in my life right now. I love Boston, I love my stupid drama queen guy friends and my quriky nerdy girl friends, I'm not challenged at work but my colleagues are really nice, entertaining people and give me plenty of stories to tell. I've begun regaining my ability to step away from my computer desk and seek events and hobbies that I'd lost the ability to concentrate on. I'm starting to feel urges to volunteer/help out in the community, which is a huge part of my family legacy and is something I did without even thinking about it until the depression really cut off my legs as a teen. [[The only shift for the NPR telethon fundraiser that worked with my schedule was full by the time I asked about it - fifteen hours after getting the email! - but World Music/Crash Arts should be starting up in a month or so and I expressed my interest in that almost two months ago, and it's about time I checked Hire Culture again to see what volunteering opportunities they have listed right now.]]
All in all I'm pretty happy with the way things are going for me, as I approach what is likely to be close to an actual 25% of my lifespan. :)
I've still been a little isolated, and to tell the truth for the last couple of weeks I've not been at my computer nearly as much as I have been for the last six years or so, I'm way behind on pretty much everything and I'm sorry for being a crap friend to most of you. <3
trivialaffair, I'm so glad you're continuing to recover. Needles are icky and surgery is ickier but sdlfkgjs I have missed you so much and I love that you're dealing with this the way you are. You're being really strong, no matter what you think. Don't feel guilty about having low days, okay? Just keep getting better and thank your sister for being honest with you AND for taking such good care of you. No more trying to wash dishes!
tatoeba, you finished TtCL!!!!!!!. I've had the page open all weekend, trying to figure out what I can possibly say about it and I keep coming back to simple keymashing and sparkly heart .gifs or something. You finished it and there were good feelings all the way around and there was closure after the breakup and a fashion show and an entire room in the apartment just of clothing. I loved the entire series and I still absolutely adore your writing. You're awesome.
idealforcolors, are you heading back Somerville-ward this summer? I can't remember if you were or not, but if so definitely give me a call! YOU'RE almost 25, too! :D :D :D
honooko, CONGRATS ON PASSING THE KOREAN EXAM! Also, congrats on surviving the mosquitos at that camp. Damn little buggers...!
zukkii, sorry my connection keeps crapping out and kicking me out of gchat. I hope your weekend was less stressful than you were anticipating. Just remember, just a few more months!
mujun, are all the plants on your balcony ok? Storms are awesome but it sucks when things blow over. Also, you make me madly in love with OhMaru. And you. ❤
My only real plans for the weekend were to finish reading Sing Them Home by Stephanie Kallos and The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson. I managed the first yesterday but today I wrote and reorganized my closet instead of reading. That means it has to wait until next weekend because I'm at a point where I know that the next time I pick that book up I am going to be utterly engrossed and won't eat or sleep until I've finished it. I keep glancing at it, lying there so innocuously on the floor by my bed. Musssssssst resisssssssssssst.