You can still contact me at svaha@iki.fi

31.11.02

Good morning.

I haven't updated for a while, because a) I've been too tired b) I've been too far down for some specific events c) I promised myself I would finish the Magic Carpet characters first.

No, I'm not quite finished with all of them yet, but I've got two out of my hands and should get the rest today. I'm right in the middle of the terror and ecstasy of words, swaying in the rush of them, hurting all the while for trying to get them out and in order and knowing they will be pitifully imperfect.

This is awful. Why did I not remember it is this awful?

And if I ever succeed in this, it is because of a Certain Someone, and him only. I could never face and conquer this fear if I was not more afraid of failing in this case, under his gaze... It is an odd kind of negative courage, but that way works better, for now. (How could I try for positive courage, after all? That would be putting oneself forward, again.)

There. I said it. I wonder it it makes you feel better, to be the cause of - I don't dare say "inspiration", but something, certainly - in others?

Funny, though, it does make me feel better.

Or maybe I've just had too much coffee.

And besides, it's not like the job is in schedule, anyway.

Oh, and I've found the most beautiful song in the world.

(Later) ...I'll never get this finished...

(Even later) ...Four down, one to go. The worst ones are definitely done. The last one is mainly irksome for the sheer number of facts needed to put together.

Soon. Not acceptable, but tolerable. Soon.

26.11.02

Should have known. I slept more than nine hours last night, but I still could not get out of bed in the morning. I was feeling sick and unable to move, so I canceled the teaching job (and lost tomorrow at the same time).

Should have known I still can't get through that much effort and that much emotional upset without a backlash.

Friends have wonderful homepages, and I feel so inferior. I can't advertise myself or anything I've done. All I can do is apologize and shield.

25.11.02

Another exhausting weekend - another mixture of good and bad. Very bad.

Good stuff: survived Friday at work despite flu. Got the rendance CD into print(!!!). Survived the party as well and even enjoyed the company of a few people. Arranged for the gorgeous gambling props for the game on Saturday; arranged for them to get back as well. Got to the game despite persisting flu, helped around, even had fun. Saw Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets yesterday; had a nice evening with Lissu, Vili, Hukka and Aarne. Survived flu and was almost alive today at work. Probably managed to keep a few rascals from cheating at an exam... Got to read the newest installment of Lori's "Hero With a Thousand Faces".

Bad stuff: everything having to do with the annual meeting. Let's not go there at all, okay? Bad stuff also includes my losing my temper quite thoroughly about its proceedings. No, I was not applying for a post in the next board. No, I had no idea I would feel so strongly about the result in any case. And as I had not been prepared to feeling so upset, I could not hide it.

I know I behaved stupidly, and it makes me angry at myself. But not only at myself.

Yeah, let's just not go there. That way lies politics and power games, and I hate that stuff; always have, always will. I only care about larping and the people who do it and make it possible for others.

Association politics suck. (Deja vu.)

So as not to end on that note, I was disappointed with "Alias Grace", after all. It read like a mystery novel, but it was another one where there was no solution and therefore no mystery. Exquisite language, though, and some great quotes. Need to check them in the original language.

I'm working again tomorrow and the day after.

I still pine.

21.11.02

Still sick, still working, still feeling angry and hurt.

It would be so easy to say: "I wish I had never met you!" It would be so easy to start drawing battle lines. But is that really what I want?

No. But what can I do? Obviously - as we have seen - I can't be a better person than this - don't have the strength - nor will Anni bugde. I am not what she expects, so she doesn't do what I expect.

I guess it's back to the same old truth: I am just not fit for anybody to care.

I don't want to be in the party tomorrow. I am too tired and too ill, and I can't give Anni anything, since I don't have any money (or time to do anything with my hands, and besides, she is the crafts miracle, not me). I just want to sleep for a year. Yeah, sleep over all the annual meeting stuff and all these games and SO over Christmas...

I can't even like Christmas any more. I don't have anything to give anyone, and my heart has swollen shut, so there is nowhere for the Child to come to.

How could I possibly last past the ending of this year?

20.11.02.

I hate this flu.

And I more than half wish I could move out of this place.

(Why? Because I didn't have the energy to help others with the cleaning today, being simply too ill after the day at work, and now I feel all power has been taken out of my hands in regards to what is where and who does what. I feel out of control and out of the group. This used to be a place where I loved to live. Now it isn't. Is this what Kalle feels? Is it my fault?)

I realize I have to stop now. I must apologize: I can't be honest about what I feel now and why. It is too awful and too insulting and would only cause more pain and estrangement.

Maybe it will go away tomorrow. Maybe I don't really mean it.

19.11.02

Another leftover from the weekend was the flu. I caught it, Anni caught it, Lin caught it. Kalle and Inka have no hope. I wonder how Anni's and Sanna's combined birthday party on Friday is going to work out now.

I'm ill as anything, there's far too many things to do before the weekend (the annual meeting and the game and everything), and I got work for the next three days. I'd be really happy if only I could stay up in this fever, and if these beetles would stop dancing in my throat.

So off to bed we go.

The new Pratchett was okay. Not great, but okay, and the Les Miserables allusions worked for me (no surprise there, huh?). Now I'm reading "Alias Grace" by Margaret Atwood (in Finnish, unfortunately - it's Anni's book).

P.S. I'd like to say to those lovely people who have emailed me apropos the diary: thank you. I'll get around to answering you personally sooner or later, I'm just utterly hopeless at writing letters. But don't ever think that your concern is not appreciated - it is, very much.

17.11.02

Well, it's over, I'm still here, and I behaved altogether properly. I am tired and wrung out. Too little sleep, too much emotional turmoil, somewhat enough self-control, too much loneliness.

The game? Oh, it went well enough. Lots of emotional turmoil there as well, but mostly about friendship, loyalty and the past. Lots of high-scale politics and frustration, too, but it stayed within the limits of my tolerance. I got many compliments on my costume, so maybe losing most of Friday night's sleep to perfecting it was worth it, after all. (Not that I was even the coolest character there, dammit! :) Oh, my character - Caladnei - is an NPC in the regular Forgotten Realms sourcebook all right, but it just so happened that one of the messengers to the meeting was the NPC for FR... Typical. :) But who cares, Samu made a most satisfactory Drizzt do'Urden...)

All in all, I enjoyed the game more than I expected to - quite a lot, in the end - but I can imagine that to those who are not familiar with the official sourcebooks of the RPG setting, the milieu material was more than a little confusing. Still, campaigns are by nature more interesting than one-offs, and I am ravenous for game number three and the possibility of RPG'ing an adventure my character is going to take part in.

Otherwise - well, there is no otherwise. After the game I was so exhausted I was almost hallucinating, and a long timeout outside, in the pleasantly moist and softly dark night only helped momentarily. I ended up falling asleep sitting up in the lodge's kitchen, as there was too much noise in the big room. Luckily some people came to brew tea and found me before I fell over, and I fumbled my way to bed in a side room.

Standing out there on the slippery, snow-covered path, looking into the darkness of the fir forest, listening to the soft thumps of snow falling from trees, I went through a lot of thoughts, but even though at that time I felt an almost physical urge to get them into writing, most of them slipped into the night of the forest, and the rest are avoiding me, trying to look the other way and not acknowledge my presence. As if I wasn't already familiar with them all, having lived with them, slept with them and done their dirty laundry for years...

I think a change - some sort of an all-encompassing change of life - might really be the easiest way to move forward, after all. But I don't want to do it the easy way. I don't want to change everything. I just want the same things, but better. Which means I should strive for them better. Nothing more complicated. Want something, go for it. Can't get it, go for it in a roundabout way. Forget the humiliations of the process; it's the goal that matters. It's that simple.

Yeah, and I'm Julia Roberts.

At least I am slowly lessening the distance that I drew between me and God quite consciously at the beginning of the year. I still don't claim to trust Him or understand what He wants from me, or why it is necessary to convey it in such exhausting ways, but I am at least willing to accept the possibility that there is a plan, and that it's for a purpose. That maybe even these two past years have taught me something that I might not have learned otherwise.

Still, this weekend was hard. Very hard.

Today I helped in the cleaning-up, behaved myself further, got a ride home, and fell asleep until it was time to pick up Anni from the railway station (she drove her father's car back to Lahti). In the evening we watched the Special Extended Edition of the Fellowship of the Ring with a few people and cried huzzahs at all the wonderful scenes that were put back and that finally made the story nearly as perfect as could be hoped for.

The newest Discworld book lies on my pillow (Kalle just bought and read it), but I think it's going to lose the battle to headache and lack of sleep.

I still need to figure out what "siedätyshoito" is in English. I'll leave it to the reader to work out why.

15.11.02

The Les Miserables concert/show was unbelievably good. I was not sure how I would react, having seen the stage musical five times (thrice in London, twice in Helsinki) and also having watched the videotape of the 10th anniversary concert, which was essentially the same as this one. I thought it just could not be as good without the illusion of the stage. However, the fantastic singers brought the illusion with them, in their voice and their acting. They had the parts down to the finest nuances in their fingertips (which we could see on the big screens), and as singers, this cast was out of this world. I have seen the legendary Colm Wilkinson in the part, as well as Stig Rossen when he was ten years younger (and I still have the sweater with his signature on it! I wore it to the show, causing much embarrasment to Anni), but I have never seen such an all-round phenomenal ensemble.

So yes, it was worth it, and more. Than you, Mom. It was truly Christmas come early.

I was thinking that Les Miz is actually the only musical that I can think of that can be as effective (or nearly so) in a concert form, since its strength is so deeply embedded in the music. And it's good that it is so, since once again advertisers showed their appreciation of the Finnish audience and hyped the show without once mentioning that it was the concert version. I wonder how many people there were in the audience who thought they were coming to see an full stage musical.(Though I also wonder how many of those were left unsatisfied at the end...)

Now it's Friday night, three o'clock in the morning, the Faerun game is tomorrow, and I am in full-tilt panic. I don't know my character's history well enough; I don't know my spells well enough; and I still haven't sewn a single stitch of the repairs and additions needed for my costume. And we have to be moving at ten in the morning.

Now, a slight case of pre-game anxiety is normal and good; even a moderate dose of panic is understandable when it's me... but this time I am so nervous that I feel weak and shaking. Remind me again that this was supposed to be fun, please...?

I just have a strong feeling that it is going to be a disaster for me. As a game, because I feel as doubtful as always of my competence (not that the doubt is always based on facts, but this time my character is rather more demanding than average, especially in aspects that are not my forte), but just as much (and even more) as a personal experience. How else could it be? I still haven't exorcised a Certain Someone out of my system. His image is still burned on the screen of my mind. And since I have not seen him for a long while, I cannot help but feel anticipation at the sight of him, and then of course even the smallest slight will feel all the worse.

This is again, one of those situations where I know exactly what will hurt me and how, but knowing it and being able to analyze it to shreds doesn't help me change how I feel or how I act. I will just dive into pain, knowingly, unable to avoid it. As always.

One should think that this would teach me strength of character in regard to other matters as well - but unfortunately it does not work that way. I can only take pain and punishment and humiliation in relationship matters; I guess because I've got this skewed romantic ideal in my head that whatever is done for love cannot be shameful. And yet of course I have enough common sense to recognize how untrue that ideal is.

I have a feeling I will regret writing even this. But I promised to be honest.

Not that I expect to cause any scenes tomorrow. I don't do that stuff any more. It leads nowhere and only serves to drive other people even further away. I will be nice and helpful and try to laugh at my last-minute panic (that is inevitable) and look like I am perfectly okay... There is no other way, really. It is not dishonesty in such situations where displaying any violent emotions would serve no end but to make other people uncomfortable.

Still, to quote Banks, "P.S. Gulp!"

(Apropos Banks, I have to brag that I managed to finish "Feersum Endjinn" yesterday night. Those who know the book know why the bragging. And it was good, too. I loved the vision of a castle that is a country, or several countries actually.)

13.11.02

Tired, cold days. Slept a lot, and watched Buffy. We got to the epic end of the second season tonight. It brought back the familiar ache of the knowledge that greater-than-life things only happen to people who first have a life and try hard to be good at it.

I keep having dreams where I am back to Senior High - not as a teenager, but as I am now, having decided that I need to remember everything that was taught there perfectly again. I am allowed to do that for some strange reason, but I keep missing half my classes because I cannot get up; I keep trying to hide my age from my classmates and pass as a teenager; and I am not actually learning anything, because nothing is being taught to me - I should just know everything by heart already, as the real teenagers seem to be doing.

Not very difficult to analyze that, is it?

I just don't feel up to being a grown-up. I don't actually believe I can do these things by myself. I don't believe I will ever actually hold down a permanent job, or buy a house or a car or even a big piece of furniture or home entertainment. Or go to a parents' night as a parent. Or be able to fill in forms and applications. Or live on my own.

At New Year, when I looked back and tried not to look forward, in a kind of desperate fury, I made some very stupid decisions for this year. I have... maybe... given up on them, but now that the year is ending, I find that they still hold a power and a fear over me. A form of judgement that I called on myself and now cannot shake off.

I honestly do not know if I will be able to escape that judgement at the end. I know it is all in my own mind, and I am surprised and scared at how real it feels despite it.

But mostly, I am just disappointed in myself. And since the disappointment is pooling up deep enough to drown mountains, the judgement may not be avoided.

We'll see.

11.11.02

Well, well. I don't know what to say. When things look even slightly down, I don't want to write about it, because it makes me ashamed of not accomplishing anything; when things look even slightly up, I don't want to write about that either, because I fear acknowledging it will drop even more mountains on top of the old ones - those of demands. After all, if I am doing better, I can start putting my life in proper order, right?

And it's still too much. Small things I can manage - like getting the oldfashioned snail mail invitations for the general meeting into post - but that is the extent of it.

Met Mom in town, got tickets to see the Les Miserables concert on Thursday, dragged Mom home with me while I worked feverishly to get those invitations mailed (despite the fact that she must have been horrified at how much of a mess the house is at the moment), drove Mom home. Borrowed the first Harry Potter movie from her and tried to watch it, but the sound kept cutting off.

Yesterday was Father's Day. I didn't even phone mine. Why? Well, what would I have said? "Hi Dad, this is your loser daughter who still has no life and no money; how are you?"

It's not about his shortcomings, only about mine. He's done nothing to deserve a burden like me (neither has my mother, of course). So if one has nothing good to say; to tell, better say nothing.

Need to write all day tomorrow. And get that CD out of my hands. We'll see.

Now most of the house is going to the Faerun game next weekend. I don't quite know how I feel about it. Not that I know how I feel about the game in general, either. It's not a problem of choosing whether I feel good or bad - it's that I have this mixture that is neither; of doubts and fears and anticipation and general anxiety and... well, this feeling of being unable to vocalize my feelings and therefore even to recognize them. It's better to be silent, and so I extend the silence down to my very thoughts.

I've noticed this development in connection with other matters, as well. I don't like it. I don't like it at all, but I don't know how to stop it; where to draw the line. I can easily understand hysterical dumbness now - it is relatively simple to work oneself into that state; to deny oneself words altogether. It's frightening how easy it is, and how difficult the silence gets to break.

But I never get any worded thoughts down to written text anyway (all those thoughts that come in the morning, while still half-asleep; all those dreams of mystery and enchantment; those breaths when I suddenly, for just one heartbeat, feel alive... they come and go, and I don't have the determination to drag myself to the computer and put them down, maybe out of fear of being seen to actually try some words out, or maybe just out of sheer laziness), so why give a damn?

Would like to feel excitement and joy in anticipation for the Les Miz concert. Can't, because too anxious of whether Anni will enjoy it in my company at all. She probably won't.

9.11.02

Marginally better.

Yesterday I planned to get up in a proper time, and did, but then changed direction back to bed in a headache and an upset stomach. Didn't do much, but at least managed to write up some SuoLi stuff during the evening.

And today I mailed them - the invitation to the general meeting in two weeks and some other stuff for the membership list. I feel quite satisfied with the accomplishment, tiny as it is in a global scale.

I had been going to meet Mom in the city, but the emailing thing took more time and energy than I had reserved for it, so I ended up cancelling. In the evening I realized that everyone else was gone or going somewhere, so I called Tommi and asked if I could visit. He said I was welcome - after the ice hockey match that was on TV (he does not follow any other sport, but that one he is religious about). So I got myself up and moving (not that it took much effort, as I just took the car).

We had quite an emotional evening. I needed to unload a lot of recent stuff, and somehow we also ended up rehashing some ancient history that was quite upsetting for Tommi. However, we survived the highs and lows and parted altogether amicably, for which I am very glad.

I am not, however, glad about the fact that I still fear him too much to trust him in all situations and moods. Intellectually, I trust him a lot, but not emotionally. I don't know if I will ever get past that, and it bothers me. It's not like I exactly have an abundance of people who care about me enough to be there for me in my bad days.

Oh, I finished "Against a Dark Background" sometime last week, but I was less than impressed with it. It was well written, but I did not get any particular enjoyment out of it, as I did with "Excession" and "Look to Windward". Now I'm rereading "Possession" for the hundred-and-seventeenth time (or something along those lines). I never get tired of it. But what am I going to take up after that?

I also realized that the geographical location of the characters I have to write for "The Magic Carpet" is totally impossible. There is nothing but dry highlands and desert where we put a whole sultanate. I suppose I have to whip up some lush valleys that were later lost... That teaches me not to do my research properly before committing to anything.

I am starting to feel a familiar and very welcome excitement for next weekend's Faerun II larp. I haven't immersed myself in proper fantasy for far too long a time, and I really like my character in this one. I already dreamed of the game on Thursday (I think it was) - an incredibly convoluted and detailed story of how everything possible went wrong before the game even got started.

As to dreams, today's Saturday Morning Special was a surprise - again it was a relationship dream, but the surprise was in the extremely weird choice for the object of my affections. I hope my subconscious is not trying to tell me something; if it is, and if that something has anything even remotely to do with that dream, I will get seriously worried about its state.

7.11.02

This has not been a good week.

In fact, it has hardly been at all. I haven't left the house since Sunday except once, on Tuesday to go to the Mage roleplaying session at Qttiland. I haven't accomplished anything. I didn't even realize it was Thursday and not Wednesday this evening, when Mom called.

So another illusion must be torn down: no, it does not seem like I am going up, after all. Okay, I haven't gone much farther down, either, because if I had, I would not be here. But not up, either, and we have already established that this chasm is not exactly the pinnacle of achievement. This is not good.

And how long is it since I skipped that psychiatrist session and promised solemnly to call at once for another appointment? Well, I haven't, and now I don't dare to, any more. As always.

There are things to write, but I feel numb and wordless.

A few more people have written to me and commented on my diaries. It feels nice. I wish I had something better to show for them.

I keep sabotaging all my own efforts to take any steps forward.

5.11.02

I am officially angry now.

I am angry at shallow, stupid people who suddenly find me infinitely more dangerous than before simply because I have admitted out loud that I suffer from depression.

Just for the record of those who may find themselves in the same room with me with no merciful escape: I am not diagnosed aggressive or dangerous to other people, nor am I suicidal except sometimes if excessively drunk, which I cannot be at the moment because of the medication (not that I prefer getting drunk in any case). I don't particularly look forward to burdening other people and ruining the party with my problems, though naturally I will answer if someone wants to talk about that particular subject. If you cannot concentrate on anything but the fact of my depression, like a missing limb that you keep staring at and being bothered with, then that is your problem, not mine. I can limp along quite nicely, thank you.

And despite my fears and low self-confidence, I like people and their company and hearing how they are doing. Contact. Connection. Giving, for what I can, and I cannot give if you don't give me the chance.

If you are too afraid of catching something shameful and scary from me to come close enough, then that, again, is your loss.

4.11.02

...And as could be expected, all that people stuff kicked back eventually. I did not wake up today until late afternoon, nor answer my phonecalls, nor get myself to town to meet Mom. I just... didn't.

So I gave myself leave not to angst about it today: maybe it was not good to have another wasted day, but it seemed to be necessary. So once Lin got home, we just watched Buffy and then some more Buffy... and then some more.

I read some of my own stuff through today and told myself to do something about the unfinished condition of these pages. And also remarked that there is more true caring in the poems for my dear friend Jukka than in any of the ones for the Certain Someone I am supposed to forget. So good riddance, right?

I was going to put down his name, once and for all - but the reason I didn't, and haven't already before, is that I don't think he would appreciate it. It really doesn't bind him into anything concerning me if I have feelings for him, does it? ...but I know unwanted attention can be embarrassing in any case, and the fact that it is my attention does not exactly make it the most non- embarrassing thing in the world. I know I don't belong up there with the young, bold and beautiful.

So it's not about trying to protect myself that I'm being evasive (and so in the vicinity of dishonesty). I'm just trying to be polite.

And besides, it'll blow over soon. It will. I'll work it off. I will.

I notice I am on the list for a game next weekend. I was not planning on attending and didn't know they thought I was - but now I wonder maybe it might be fun, after all.

We'll see how the week goes. Today did not exactly help my duties forward.

A very sweet person emailed me last week to tell me he had been reading my pages. It made me feel good, but I still haven't managed to thank him yet. Should. Must. I just never know what to say when I want to try and create a true connection.

3.11.02

The game was all right. Not an earthshattering experience, but not too bad either. I was nearly satisfied with myself (mainly for the tenacity to go there and go through it than for any particularly graceful performance). And I am very, very glad I am not the sort of a person my character was... There was nothing wrong with her as such, but what a shallow life she had... It's not like my own life is a model of depth and insight, but at least I know it. At least I have the brains to look at myself from the outside.

Anyway, it was as good a way of spending an evening than any, and better than some. After the game Sanna and I begged for a place to sleep at the X-mansion downtown (Tuukka and Ilkka, two of the residents, were at the game). We bought some very bad pizza and stayed up until half past two, chatting. At two am, Anni phoned to inform me that she was being tortured by Irrette's cats and was coming home Sunday afternoon with precious loot - the second season of Buffy (which we cannot watch until Anni, Lin and I all find ourselves free at the same time, so maybe Tuesday or Wednesday...). In the morning, it was quite impossible to drag myself up from under the yards of kilt Tuukka kindly loaned me. At noon, Sanna finally woke up and decided I needed to, too, and with her energy we got out of the door and to our respective bus and tram (I'm sure it was not my energy - it generally escapes me until several hours after waking up).

So I got home and promptly buried myself under another blanket with "Against a Dark Background", fell asleep some time in the afternoon and only woke up aroud seven, when Anni dragged herself, the cat and half the worldly possessions of her parents home. We caught up with her mini-holiday and my bafflingly social weekend, loafed around and finally ended up watching "Death Becomes Her" on DVD. Somehow I've never seen it, and again, it was one of those films that leave you asking, "Whas that all of it?" It felt like something that should have been a half-hour episode of a TV series.

Backtracking a little, it seems I've been regaining tiny bits of normal energy: I got out of the door and to meeting people both on Thursday and Friday, too. On Thursday, I met Jukka and then Mom, who bought me some expensive vanities and agreed to go to the movies with me this week, and got home to watch "Fiddler on the Roof" with Anni and Lin. Now that one is a wonderful film, at least to a musical lover like us!

On Friday I did not manage to get out of the door early enough to go to the bank, but I did make it to the annual general meeting of the Greywolves. There was some strangely ugly politicking, but the end result was if not perfect, at least acceptable. I just wish people would present their arguments fairly out in the open and not resort to personal politics. I mean, it should be about the issues and not the people, shouldn't it?

And after the meeting, through some sidetracking, I even ended up in the afterparty, which was quite nice. I talked to some people I have not talked to for a while and managed to persuade several men to participate in "The Magic Carpet".

So it would seem that the medication is doing what it can do: giving me some energy to get up and about. Too bad it cannot give me belief in either myself or the future.

That, after all, is the true problem, of which the depression is only a symptom.

2.11.02

I woke up to a dream about the Certain Someone that I promised to forget, just as I did a week ago. What is this, Saturday Morning Special? And how long is it going to run? Because I'd like it to stop, please. How am I going to work this thing through if I keep being pulled back into the roiling seas of emotion all the time? I feel like I've been gasping water for quite some time, and now all I can do is lie on the shore, exhausted and irritated.

Get him off my head and my heart, already!

I have to get moving, as I promised yesterday that I would go into a game today. Another one of those things that seem like a good idea at the time. I've been so overwhelmingly involved in social interaction for the past few days that my allowance of energy is just about used up; I have no idea what to wear; and as always, I'm dead scared.

We'll see.

Later, then.