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27 Apr 04: Not. Good.

More sleep. Though today I figured that at least the past couple of days seem to have a reason: I realized I have some sort of a flu. Throat is sore and stuff, and now that I'm awake I'm shivering.

But my phone is still with Paula and I've managed to fumble several meetings. Again.

Added Lin to people links, now that she's said linking is okay. Thinking of both of them (Anni and Lin that is) a lot, now that their entrance exams are approaching. (No, seriously, guys, I am.)

Been reading books lately - that's about the only thing I've been good for. The Wild Swans by Peg Kerr was beautiful and gripping, interweaving the fairytale set into seventeenth-century England with a story of the early, tragic spread of AIDS in the gay community of New York, and doing it seamlessly, economically, mysteriously. There was only one part that irritated me, and that was the heroine's appearance (but then again, I always hate heroines who are exceptionally tall and long-necked and graceful...). Piercy's Body of Glass was indeed very interesting - she has a fine grip of people and their complexities. And Gaiman's Coraline was okay, but I don't think it's really going to push Alice off its perch any time soon, as some reviewers suggested. To me it seems more the sort of book that adults hope children would like than one they actually like. I don't think it's the sort of book one wants to re-read. The world in it is too small.

I had also borrowed some Louise Cooper from Seanna - sequels to one of my guilty indulgences, The Time Master Trilogy. However, I couldn't get more than halfway into the first book until I admitted (with some odd mixture of disappointment and relief) that I just could not be bothered to wade through an uninteresting and formulaic trilogy, and went straight into the third book to check the ending. Some of Cooper's books work, but these are clearly no among them.

Time for some hot tea and B5, I think.

23 Apr 04: Dreamland

I slept for seventeen hours straight. What the sh*t is this?

So, no phone, no meeting Taika, no useful activity at all. Nothing except for cool dreams I did not want to get out of, and never came awake enough to smack that completely unreasonable inclination on the butt with the need to have an actual life sometimes. But at least I got to swim in proper water and not something that turned into stone and desert after a while. And dive, with this special magical blessing that sort of teleported me a couple of kilometres in the middle of an ordinary twenty-second dive. And just kept swimming, which all kept me safe from some strange enemies. So odd - even now I get cold shivers, thinking of swimming like that in strange waters, but in the dream it was very safe and comforting. Now how Freudian is that? And does it mean something in regards to my emotions, or my subconscious?

Other, very strong, images are still with me from that overlong session in AR, but I don't think they'd sound as interesting as they felt.

I got to thinking about memory tonight. You know, how they say most people have a visually-inclined memory, and a smaller percentage has an aural memory? I have neither. Or, well, I don't know about aural really, but definitely not visual. I could never see schoolbook pages in my head, and I can only remember numbers by reciting them several times - preferably aloud. I guess I could describe my way of memorizing as mostly based on structuring things in ones head; figuring them out. I have no idea how I did so well at school, which, after all, does include a lot of small details that just have to be learned mindlessly by heart. I did learn them, but I don't know how. Not that I remember most of them anymore, in any case. I've lost most of the areas that never really interested me, like dates and years of history - especially the recent centuries - and practically all of my geology, chemistry and physics. I only did the extra physics in senior high because of possible medicinal studies, anyway.

I also remembered things somewhat better if they have to do with rhythm, or poetry. Words, individual, strong words, stick with me. I am terrible at numbers in general, now that I don't practice them any more, and I never could see myself through the kinkier mathematical problems anyway. I have a surprisingly hard time remembering my own choreographies (unlike those of others) or my own poems. And despite remembering things in words, I really, really suck at understanding speech in a foreign language or in poor hearing conditions.

I should have been born in the age of my great-great-grandparents in Carelia and become an apprentice to a great-great-great-grandaunt in runonlaulanta. That, I might not have sucked at.

Sucking, or not sucking, at something has been a lot on my mind this night, as a former coursemate at University was on TV and is apparently doing very well, is in a prestigious position in a profession that I would not scoff at (and has not talked to me ever since I got a divorce... I wonder what she would think of my life now, if that shocked her?).

As a footnote, I'd like to make an exception to my habits and offer a link. Featured Attyre has the most, and the most gorgeous, pictures of Renaissance costumes people have actually made that I've ever seen. I'm not much into the Elizabethan styles, but these are just beautiful - and I love the Italian-styled ones. (There are some that aren't Renaissance there, but those are beautiful as well.)

Also, looking at what I wrote on memory, and thinking further, I also think that I should have just studied psychology from the beginning. Or at least switched to it at some stage when I'd got some life into my head and my resume. The subjects that really interest me - the questions that seem meaningful to me - seem to be most closely related to it after all. But by now it's too late.

22 Apr 04: Forays into Reality

Great concert, great party. My brother is simply The Coolest (though I am, naturally, somewhat astonished to note that he has become a minor celebrity in his field - he's my brother, after all). Went to the afterparty with P&P's folk music friends and felt very much an outsider, but I guess it did me good to be out and socializing anyway.

I also learned how to do polska, which was a novelty. Just never tried most of those dances before.

Today was spent trying to sleep through a hangover, even though I only had two ciders and a couple of glasses of red wine. Too much for me anyway, it seems.

Something that has been screwed up in my system must be slowly un-screwing itself: crisps, which used to cause some of my worst cravings, just don't taste good anymore. Wish that feeling would extend to other sorts of comfort food as well...

20 Apr 04: ...And Stumbling in the Dark

'S difficul' to get back to rhythm. Nights are days and days are nights, and writing slides along in the unspoken deal of muteness, of being proper and golden and evasive.

Went to Avalon IV / Amber V on Saturday, despite fear on many levels. After all, it was the first time ever since the relapse and cancellation that I had been among larping circles. Besides, as usual, I was feeling fat and unlovely, and I also feared my character would be left out of most of the politics... as she was. No particular reason, that's just how the circumstances were. So my already worse-than-normal insecurity was refreshed by the in-game feeling of being left out, as a result of which I did not enjoy my day very much.

This does not mean that the game itself was bad - no, it was smoothly organized and seemed to be enjoyable to almost everyone else. I just happened to have the bad luck to experience what I most fear and hate in games - a feeling of being an outsider - and it's not even something that everybody would take that seriously. The game site was a little odd, though: I don't feel particularly nostalgic about the old days of playing among outsiders, cars and other modern inconveniences. Not that people didn't take it all in stride, and much fun had by all.

And Dare, despite his stress over it, was indeed quite a nicely convincing Benedict.

The thing that most struck me about the game was something quite different, however, though I suppose it's not really surprising that I would feel strongly about it. In the after-game debrief, Teemu asked whether people had enjoyed themselves, and whether they wanted more. Almost everyone did. Then he said, "I hope you realize that organizing these games is harmful both to my physical and mental health" - and everyone just kept laughing and cheering for more.

Now what kind of a sense is that? I mean, seriously, come again? Look at that statement. Is it funny? Really? Even if it is said as a joke, which it wasn't?

I think it's high time we start remembering that this is a hobby, and it should be fun for the organizers, too. One should not feel obligated to do anything that is harmful to one's health - neither physical nor mental - far less in something that should be about fun, relaxation and recharging one's batteries. It doesn't make what we do any less worthy if we drop the ideal of the suffering artist and bring in some realism.

Organizing a game should not bring about mental, emotional or physical breakdowns. It should be taken seriously when someone says that such a situation is imminent. And also, one is not obligated to produce bad results. The risk and the effort should be proportional to the end result, and we are not really obligated to produce anything for a hobby.

Off the soapbox, now.

I was almost falling asleep in the car on the way home, but vanquished my sleepier side long enough to drop by at Clo's graduation party, looking altogether silly in my Leia hairmuffs (couldn't take them off, as the coiffure had required black spray as well), but trying to compensate with the Chinese cloak. I ate far too much fabulous Middle-Eastern vegetarian food, had a nice time chatting with people, and took the train home with Inka, so I'm really glad I made it.

T & Q came to dinner on Sunday - pasta with fresh tomato sauce and chevre cheese, ice cream with Chicago - but after that, it's mostly been about books and sleep. I just can't get the daily circle turned back to normal: if I stay awake overnight to turn it, I sleep too long again the next night. I have to fix this somehow, but I haven't yet come up with a workable idea. I didn't even make it to the doctor's appointment I had on Monday, and that really was not good.

I do have a load of books to read: borrowed a pile from Seanna last week (another good bit in that good day). Now reading Marge Piercy's Body of Glass, and will definitely need to read everything of hers I can grab! Most of the rest have been fairytale re-tellings, which mostly are neither here nor there for me - can't say why; it should be stuff I like, just isn't.

Tomorrow (Wednesday, that is), I need to drag my ass out, as Petri has an exam recital (or should it be called graduation recital - it's not unique, but one of a few in different instruments?). Actually, it's simply part of a great folk music party: the Taiga Club annual party, by the folk music department of the Sibelius Academy. It's at Ravintola Kaisaniemi, 9pm. If folk music is at all your thing, do think of going.

I'm planning to catch Kristel before that. I should also arrange to meet Clo and Taika this week... Perhaps meeting people might be the ticket towards more normal life, once more. I can hope, I suppose.

I tried not to say it, but... it really hurts me that Heli seems to be mad at me still. Talking about stuff like this is difficult: on the other hand, it is something I feel, and feel deeply; on the other, it seems like something one says for blame or for indirect communication. Which I don't mean to do.

I suppose I should just gather up my nonexistent courage and try to talk to her. It's just difficult - one feels the need to apologize just to make the other person stop being angry, but I don't really think I should apologize for falling ill. It's not like I did it deliberately to ruin everything... but of course, when the issue is depression, there always seem to be doubt.

Oh, this is awful! I'm no good at dealing with stuff like this...

15 Apr 04: Blinking in the Light

This has been... a good day. Before ten am I had managed to get both dentist's and gynaecologist's appointments, to ascertain the continuance of my therapy sessions, and to be in time for that dentist's appointment. Despite somewhat discouraging news there (two broken teeth must be pulled out altogether), I went to town for some shopping (hair colour, as my hair is in a disgraceful state), then walked to therapy. After that, visited Seanna for an afternoon coffee and chat, shopped some more, and went to spend the evening with Vera. Got home early, because the last time I woke up was yesterday at six pm.

But on the way home the air was full of the smell of moist earth, reminder of lakeside summer nights; the lamp on the door to Neverwhere was lit; and I could swear I saw a bug dive by above and turn into a star on the return swing. And for a moment there, on some level, all was well in the world.

To top the whole thing, when I got home, Kalle had resurrected my computer, which had died last week.

14 Apr 04: A Smidgen of Daring

Haven't written, because there has been nothing to write. For my defence, I did not expect it to get this bad. I've been completely apathetic for the past couple of weeks: no interest or inclination for anything, even for getting up. No, that's not true, actually: plenty of inclination, just too much fear and self-abasement. So, as nothing absolutely nothing, was happening, I was too ashamed to write - to admit in public that I was not doing all those things I was supposed to be doing to get myself perked up again; or even getting myself to my therapy sessions! In the end I came to the conclusion that allowing myself not to write was feeding the apathy, or at least excusing it in a way I don't need. So here I am, again.

After all, wasn't I committed into giving as accurate a portrayal of serious depresion as possible? The relapses as well? No matter how shameful it might feel.

I spent Easter mostly with Mom and Olli in Kerava, but I had some surprisingly serious trouble sleeping at night, so I spent a lot of the daytime asleep. Nevertheless, good food and the forced inability to do anything except read is always nice.

I may write more tonight, but for now, below is an entry I wrote last Friday, off-line, when the net was temporarily down, and then did not have the courage to upload. The temporary feeling of a slight tilt upwards went with the sleeping troubles during Easter.

Oh yeah, and I did finish The Neutronium Alchemist, and it did pick up slightly towards the end - at least enough to leave a craving for the third book. Also read The Amazing Maurice And His Educated Rodents by Pratchett and approved of it slightly more than the rest of his recent stuff. During weekend, started Theroux's classic travelogue about Britain (going around the coast by foot and train in the eighties) and am almost through, even though I dislike it immensely. Theroux seems to wallow in despair and ugliness whenever he can, even when he has a choice and especially then. I wonder how his other books are? He must have been ecstatic in Patagonia, provided Chatwin's descriptions of it are in any way truthful.

Promised Kalle that if he gets a cutter strong enough for the alarmingly overgrown hedge around the yard, I will perform the necessary acts of control.

Another reason to write is that I've started dreaming again (it seems the medication is doing some good, at least). Last night, I was in a huge faerie LARP that was played all over Stockmann's - which was old, dark, and slightly musty, and also nicely emptied all for us. The night before, I had a baby, or had had one, actually, and had given the baby away to a friend, but now I wanted to get to know him (the baby) anyway. It was just that I sucked at anything having to do with babies. Both of the dreams were extremely vivid, overwhelmingly detailed, and had lots of elements reminding me of a rolepaying convention in the background.

(09 Apr 04: Off-line note

Typical. Just when I feel like I might manage to scribble down something, killeri.net isn't responding. So, offline then.

Why have I not written for nearly two weeks? Had nothing to write. Actually, have nothing to write even now, but I guess I should not slip completely out of practice. I've been tired and quiet and sleepy. I know this feeling: it seems as if I am waiting for someone to say or do something; as if there was a conversation unfinished, and I'm waiting for the response. From where, I do not know.

No, I tell a lie ((C) Nanny Ogg). I suppose I'm waiting for others in the Faerun project to tell me they don't quite hate me. Which they, apparently, will not. And I find it unfair that they won't even ask how I am doing: pretty much proof that people don't get the depression thing, even after all this time.

Otherwise, I am beginning to feel slightly up, or at least on a mildly upwards slope. Been chatting with Vera, who was visiting today, while Kalle played EVE Online (seems to be all the rage nowadays). Been thinking of putting together my costume for next weekend's Avalon, and how to make it from the game to Clo's graduation party. Been reading a lot of stuff on the net, but getting tired of that. Finding Hamilton's Neutronium Alchemist really hard going. It has so many plotlines, and I don't find even half of them very interesting. It would definitely benefit from conversion to multimedia format where one could pick which of the dozen or so main storylines to follow. I just want to find out how the bloody thing plays out, already!

Addicted myself to fandom_wank. The scariest part is, I can follow most of the background references in most of the examples. I think.

As to the Avalon costume: my basic medieval wardrobe is in a sorry state these days. I really should do something about it. I'm hoping to repair the red silk with French lilies for the game, even though it's not as well suited as could be (if I remember correctly, the colours of my duchy are blue and white, but I no longer have the costume I wore last time). It's been on the list for years now, so might as well get it over with. And I really want to get back to the medieval thing anyway; it felt so promising last autumn. It's just too bad I couldn't afford to go to the Crown Tourney in Estonia last month, but what can you do?)