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31 Oct 06: Between Weakness And Weakness Today hasn't been much use. I've now had temperature for almost two weeks, and though I don't feel too bad, it doesn't seem to want to go away. I'm trying to kick it off at the same time I'm desperately hanging on to the tails of the inspiration to write. Neither the flu nor the inspiration is willing to cooperate; I've let both of them get away with too much, and now, like dogs, they know I'm not in control and do as they wish. And I saw some more pictures of myself in the game, and I don't look at all as good in them as I vainly expected. And I keep thinking of Sir Crush and feeling contrariwise. Oh well, I managed to list most of the stuff I still need to put in order for the ending of the debrief. So I guess I can stop worrying about forgetting something and go to bed. Not that I've been resting very well these nights. It is nice to not need more sleep than is reasonable, but it isn't nice to be tired all the time because the sleep was not properly restful. I want the flu gone so I can get back to exercise and have some kick to the slow fit-for-life project. And I want this debrief done, so I can feel satisfied with completing my duty. On poetry, I've already given up this time round... At least I learned to use mIrc today. 30 Oct 06: Cold Day, Warm Heart Updated sewing diary with description of last weekend's costume (and some small stuff done in between). Am still flu-ish, which is no wonder after the weekend's excitement, but quite okay. Need to get back to work, though... (Night) Between flu, lack of proper sleep and trying to squeeze that debrief out of my sluggish, scattered brain, I've been pretty useless all day. Okay, I consider the debrief absolutely essential, so it's all right if it takes up some time: this is good practice for obligatory writing, which will be much in need for the foreseeable future. But I want it to be so good, and even now I notice I'm forgetting things (but I was just too exhausted Saturday night, and last night, too, after all the packing and cleaning and lugging props around and then the afterparty, where I got stuck in impassioned conversations until far too late!). And then there's the horrible moment when you're properly beginning to note things down, and you check the character material and notice all the little things you forgot... Oh, it's just as horrible and embarrassing every time! I desperately hope none of my secondary contacts thought I was deliberately ignoring them, when I was just too busy to remember stuff about them that my character should and would have remembered as part of the general background noise of information... Luckily, the character, though the epitome of empathy, is also passive rather than active, so if they didn't have time to come and talk to me, I guess I don't have to worry (except I do worry that I didn't see more to the comfort of a character whose player was sick - and the player's comfort too). But I really should have known all that, and I would have, had I had a print of my character with me, dammit!! Though actually, one of the things I didn't remember from my material turned out better: I went through the finding of it in-game, and the impact was much greater like that. But that one only affected me personally - the rest feels like a neglect of others... (BTW, Swan Lake seems to be a nice fit for background music while trying to write this damn debrief. The world of Yövartio is fantastic and varied enough that it doesn't have to be just renaissance stuff, and of course, Tchaikovsky is the quintessential music for emotional upheavals... Though I think this one will take so long that I'll go through my Palestrina&co., Handel's Concerti Grossi and even some grand opera choruses before I'm done...) (Much, much later) ...And I was right. This is why I don't write these things: because no matter how I try, if they start flowing at all, they become bloody novels. Or, well, novelettes, but even that takes so much time, dammit! I was supposed to be writing partial lists and sketches, not yet actual text. Except I am. *Tsk*. No control at all. No discipline. I should have been asleep for three hours by now, but if I pause now for anything, I'm afraid I'll end up doing the usual and not finishing it, ever. Because if I sleep on it and then look at the result so far, I'll notice how long it took to get even this far and feel overwhelmed about the stuff that's still to be included. And I'll also notice all the mistakes and cliches and inadequacies of description and decide the work-accomplishment-ratio just isn't economical ie. I suck as a writer. So, no help for it. More tea and Handel (two cycles of Palestrina and pals was enough, thank you; at least Handel's harmless, and music's a proven work enhancer). (Oh, Tchaikovsky? Once through is just about all one can take in emotionally at a time. But I've still got some more stuff I can use, and the Handel makes for a nice rail effect. So, back to work it is.) 29 Oct 06: Blessed Was reading through some old stuff, to check what I wrote about Sir Crush a year and a half ago, which mostly made me grumpy, and then glanced through some stuff between that and the present day, which made me feel overwhelmingly grateful. After all, I did survive; I made it through; I am standing in the sun, and it doesn't hurt my eyes anymore, and the mountains are not on my back, but under my feet. I'm climbing to the heights, and the foothills are glorious and wide and wonderful already. Soon, I'll actually be able to fly. The pyre of the Phoenix is no longer ash. The flames may be small, but they are there, expectant, many-coloured. And the wing-feathers are growing, and beginning to glow. At least in the dusk, and if you look from the right angle... But they are. The road has been so far and long that I still forget to look back and see how much has been covered already. It's my damned short fuse: if something doesn't happen in an instant, it really isn't happening at all, and even if it is, it doesn't count. But now, now there is already something to see when looking back, and so I can't deny the proof of it: I am no longer travelling through the dry sands of the valley of death. Now there is sun, and water, and air and trees and more air, and colours to fill the heart's wells to the edge. I will get to fly. I will. 28 Oct 06: Shaken To The Core, Open To The Winds So this is why one does it. I had another great larp experience today - long needed, long awaited, as I haven't been to a game since Queen of the Amazons in July. And not only welcome, but much, much better than I expected based on the fact that the character didn't really seem to suit my current mood (for which the gamemasters are not responsible, really, only me). In fact, bafflingly wonderful, frighteningly emotional, deeply, personally insightful. This, this is why it's worth it. And now that I look at it, I've nothing but wonderful, deeply satisfying game experiences for at least a year, if not more! Queen of the Amazons - check (but that one I expected to be great, with good reason!). Crime Pays - check (not always fulfilling, but that was very fitting for the character's situation! and it was what I had asked, to a T). Calbourne IV - check (oh, the drama underneath the politics and power! oh, the tension!). Avalon V - check! Yup. It seems I'm enjoying what I choose to do for my leisure, again. I would like to gush about the game and about my experience so badly, but I only managed three hours of sleep last night, and tonight, after the game, I made a late visit to Vera's birthday party, the last one to do so. I'm dropping as I type. I'd also like to analyse the horrible post-low I had for a while; in the background, am sort of still having. I think it has to be just chemical (adrenaline and Vera's red wine), but when I got off the bus to walk the last quarter-mile home, my emotions just sort of spread flat into a small puddle, and I found myself wishing there was someone I could ask if it was okay to cry now. The game was not the reason, except in the sense of having exhausted my physical and dramatic resources quite thoroughly. Or, well, as satisfying as that is, of course it's rough as well. But the in-game romance (which was very sweet and complicated and funny and quite adorable) must have made me more vulnerable to... well, the recognition of my own need. Of having something real of one's own, too. Not much, just some warmth and acceptance and the sense of stars and candlelight. Just that, at least. I mean, I'm familiar and prepared for the charisma of some people I knew to be there (like A Certain Someone of past desire), and I can live with that - it's only an abstract longing, long past and archived... But surprises take me badly in these situations, and surprise there was. Remember Sir Crush, my nearly-most-recent folly (and the last one I've acknowledged; the absolute last never really got to exist, and for good reason)? Anyway. My sentences are not only running into each other, but running wild up and down and around each other. So Sir Crush was there, and it was not fair at all, not fair, for he certainly is. Still. I thought I had grown wiser, but it seems not, and I wasn't prepared for this, and I was - well, probably a much better player for my character's personal drama for feeling even vaguely as surprised and off familiar ground as my character. But it's bitter and unfair and the stars are beautiful and cold and I feel stupid. Stupid, small and embarrassed. Never got to say two words to him, either. Which is also stupid, old acquaintances and everything. And why am I so damn worried over any of it anyway? Not fair. And no words left either, for being too tired or too full with the emotional experience of the game story, or simply for being dull and dumb and useless in my longing. And I really, really must write about my character experience as soon as possible. Dammit, how I need poetry! 25 Oct 06: It's Doable, I Suppose Slept late quite happily, which was a blessing, as I still had some fever today. Had the GMs for next weekend's larp come and choose props and chatted about the game over coffee. Did some cleaning in preparation of Riikka taking up temporary residence at Lummetie, which was good, as cleaning doesn't seem to happen that often these days. Got a ride to a Firefly session, which was good too - getting back on track was very important for me in this. We finished rather early, and now I'm home and stressing over my dress for the game. I had this quite nice plan, but it turns out the colour scheme was completely wrong, and so I went back to the drawing board and relisted my options, and there are far too many! And making a decision as soon as possible is important, because I have to be able to make the bloody thing, too! Not that I don't have too much stuff as it is! I wish people would come and buy them off... 24 Oct 06: An Involuntary Experiment This is a bad day. Bad in the sense most people use the word: a pileup of unpleasant and irritating events that I cannot control. Now we'll just see if my newfound healthy mood can weather days like this. Because right now, everything just sucks. What's particularly sucky is that now that I have a chance of having a life that is not, by default, miserable all the time, I don't want to risk any disharmony and so can't rant if I have a disagreement with a friend, for example. And it's a bother, mostly because it means I'm not giving a full picture of what's going on in my head and my heart, and so this account will be of less value as such things are measured. But I'm not prepared to sacrifice my hard-won peace of mind for this. I'm not. 24 Oct 06: Getting Somewhere So, I now have a counselling professor for my master's thesis, so I guess I can officially state it: I'm going to be studying the affective aspects of language in post-LARP reports from players. Some of you may know that I planned to do this a few years ago already, but by then I was not yet back to health and routine. Now I am, as witnessed by existing subject, counsellor and plan for exams on preparatory theory. And I'm not going to let any of the game theorists make me feel inferior, I'm not. They're doing their thing, I'm doing mine, which is linguistic study. Hopefully, once it's done, it may be of some use to the actual roleplaying theorists or psychologists, but for myself, I don't need to get into RPG theory except for setting the basics in my introduction. I don't even have to get into the question of defining roleplaying, because I'll be doing a sample study anyway (it's hard enough to limit the material and focus as it is!). Not that I wouldn't welcome ideas and encouragement from that quarter. But my theory is textual analysis. Anyway. So that's in order. As I couldn't get hold of either the teacher's studies secretary or the literature professor yesterday, I could not yet get that damn study plan done, but hopefully I can manage to hunt them down today. But I did accomplish something nearly as important yesterday: I managed to complete my unemployment support application!! It'll take a couple of weeks for it to go through even now, but after that I'll finally be able to start behaving like a responsible adult (like paying my bills!). And this is no small thing. It may be an even bigger thing psychologically than the official study plan, because it's asking something for myself (no matter that it's both justified and necessary). But I did it. I'm a step closer to being an actual grownup. Went to Kerava yesterday, stayed overnight, got a ride home, now am sluggish and flu-ish, but will get moving soon enough. 22 Oct 06: Continuing Nostalgia Binge On Friday, my feet were too sore for me to be able to move anywhere at all, but I did write my study report for the program as requested. Ari came to cheer me up and to show me the first half of the Director's Cut of Kingdom of Heaven (leaving me to watch the rest of it on my own later; I still have the last half an hour left). It was infinitely better than the theatrical version - things finally made sense, characters had personalities and motivations, and there was a coherent style that was lacking before. And it was great to catch up with Ari, as we haven't properly talked for ages, like we used to. And he promised me that he might invite me to participate occasionally in something that is again terribly, wonderfully, emotionally nostalgic... but I'll say more about that if/when it happens. In the evening, my feet were better, but I was too tired to even think of going to help with decorating the Hucca Autumn Fair site. I even fell asleep over the telly and a book, so that Jaelle had to call after the reservations list very late... I went straight back to sleep after that, but even then, Saturday morning was sheer misery. The flu was back, I was feverish, and I hadn't packed, so it took me two hours more to get to the site than I had thought (when will I ever learn??). That was not good at all. However, I was able to deliver Moira's old sideless surcote of black fur and white velvet that I had been reworking, and it turned out looking quite okay. And dancing is beginning to feel like fun, again - I'm getting over my self-consciousness with the Renaissance dances that have been in vogue for the past couple of years and just to go and do them (I hate dancing stuff that I don't know, because dancing is something I should always be good at immediately - but I realise it's stupid to think like this, and I'm trying to work on it). At court, well. Um. It turned out that I have been a noblewoman for eleven years and a member of the Order of the Panache (the kingdom order of Arts and Sciences) for ten. Which was... interesting. A bit embarrassing, because it always is, to be singled out and to fear that there will be people who don't agree, but also gratifying, because it truly is nice to know that the work I did then was appreciated, after all. It does make me feel I should do more as it is, to be worthy of the recognition. On the other hand, it solves my problem of getting my SCA name registered so that I can also register arms and start making wall hangings and other stuff with the motif of those arms. Finnish names are very difficult to document, simply because there are so few written sources from the acceptable time period, and I really don't want to bother digging into the physical archives at KOTUS just for fun (and not even fun, but just something that's required of me before I can have the fun I want). But as the awards were granted to my earlier name, Cristine de Byzance, and the story of my persona that explains the change was taken into account at court, I can just as well register that name and stick to Kirsti for informal use (ie. most of the time). I'll stick to the Finnish aspects of the persona as well, and do as I've done before: mainly use other sorts of clothes for court duty and performing. Yes, of course it feels good. Just... embarrassing, as I really don't feel I've done enough lately to be worthy of those thanks. And emotional, because it was given to me through the hands of friends - several of them, from scribe to herald to liege lords, including Kirsti's "owner" (though mostly just friend, as personas aren't that deep anyway). And a bit vain, because there's this culture where one shouldn't care about the awards one way or another. But - well, it's nice to be able to feel equal to other people who have worked hard at some time or another. It does give one some sense of having done something to benefit the shared interest. Anyway, today I was really worn, but determined to stick to plan to prove I could do better than yesterday morning. So I went to the crafts day, and listened to the annual meeting of the society, and all in all felt like a normal human being who's able to do what they set their mind to. And also shared with another sister sufferer of recurring depression, which is always valuable. I was planning to go to Kerava to see Grandma, who's there for the next week in preparation for her birthday, but I was just too tired and thinking it might be wisest not to defy the fly too much. It's going to be an awfully busy week. 19 Oct 06: Heart The emerging routine is seriously beginning to hinder my attempts at words. Still, I went to my first real lecture today, on translating drama, and I'm going to take the whole course and get credit for it, simply because I find it interesting enough that I just want to do it. I owe myself that much indulgence. A propos indulgence: suddenly, yesterday, two tickets to Swan Lake turned out to need takers, so I did, and got Mili to go with me. It was emotional and wonderful simply because of the special qualities of the music (and the conductor was a woman! she was really good, too!) and because of the familiarity of the traditional parts of the choreography. It was also rather a good show, the company was in decent form (the swan corps in particular was on top of the rigorous expectations of tradition - very neat, very controlled), and I liked the costuming (the style was based mostly on early Baroque, with lots of liberties taken for fantasy, but not too much to spoil the advantages of sticking to a timeframe). Petia Ilieva danced Odette/Odile, and I admired her good lines and easy extension very much, and even if she could have shown a bit more emotion as Odette (not that she was bad, she was just very cool, and I prefer to see a more emotional interpretation of the role), she was phenomenally poised as Odile. Her partner was not good, however, which was a pity, but most of the other soloists were a pleasure to watch (not to forget the aforementioned swan corps, absolutely crucial to this ballet). I'm not sure I liked the choreographer's interpretation of the story; there was lots of interesting and original tweaking, but also some extremely odd choices. I'll continue from here tomorrow; now I have to go to sleep or I'll just snooze off right here, and that means my skin will scream for mercy by the time morning comes... Besides, I only slept for five hours last night, so... 18 Oct 06: The days have been shifting from wine and carnelian towards the serene pale gold of late autumn, and tonight finishes the turning with a click in the lock of the door of Winter's Court. Old Lady Hoarfrost's been on her first outing, her girls trailing behind, spreading out all her patiently-spun veils of diamond dust and gauze. Walking in the grass, you can hear and feel the rustle of their stiff, nearly invisible silk under your soles. Reminded of my acquaintance with her world, I directed the walk with the dog through the hill of the faerie circles, just to renew the connection on this day of threshold. (I would have been able to keep feeling elevated, had my hiking shoes not started to give me trouble - they're very good, but they don't have the padding for walking on paved streets, and the balls of my feet were abused enough already, for yesterday's fleamarket round. Have to come up with some sort of extra sole for them, or this just won't do.) Study situation continues to move towards a functional state: yesterday's visit to the pedagogics department was a great relief, as the teacher program secretary went at the problem with the speed and determination of a tornado and reassured me greatly - there seems to be only a very reasonable amount of stuff to do there after all, for which I am more grateful than any metaphors can describe. In the early evening, we met with those of the study program who could make it for champagne at this bar that had a special offer of champagne, a glass for one euro, and it was really great fun, and I'm finally beginning to know some of the people better (which is great, as they are really great people to know). I came home to sleep pretty early, though, and all the long day's excitement gave the flu a chance for one more push, so this morning wasn't too good. (It seems to have been its last, desperate attempt, though, as I'm feeling quite okay now.) I did make my appointment to discuss the master's thesis in the afternoon, and though the textual analysis expert in the department is not able to take me on (as she's on research leave all spring), she did have extremely useful suggestions on both another possible tutor and on what I should begin reading. We agreed on the first exam package, which I have to check through another examiner, but that's only a formality. I emailed the person she suggested, and also decided on what I'd like to do for the "Finnish as a second language" studies I can fit in my plan - but it remains to be seen if I even get in to the course, so I won't know it for sure yet. Still, this is shaping up better than I hoped for (so of course I'm beginning to feel twitchy for the fear of something bad happening in something else, to balance out this stretch of good luck...). Swimming with Mom in the morning, if everything holds and the flu really proves gone. I should have been asleep two hours ago... but I think I can deal. 17 Oct 06: To Dream Is To Hope There may be something to Mirka's and my own intuition, actually: I've now been off paroxetin a week, and I woke up all by myself after six hours of sleep, feeling quite awake (though a little sore in the throat yet, and a little achy around the head, but I think the latter's because of neglecting my three-minute shoulder-area exercises lately). And this after a full, productive study day yesterday. Not bad. This definitely seems to mean goodbyes to that type of mood med (but I still can't think of the best way to get consultation on something else, knowing how useless the city psychiatrist has turned out to be... after all, the general wisdom on recovering depression patients is to stay on the meds for twice as long as the depression lasted, and mine must have started around the time I was seventeen!). Right now, I'm feeling surprisingly okay. I holed inside all weekend, to banish the flu, which seems to have been the right choice, even if I did miss having some company. I watched The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex on Sunday, and it was absolutely adorable in all its quaint Hollywood costuming (I mean, Elizabeth in pink lamé and the ladies-in-waiting all in pale blue satin... no codpieces, so the men's pants had to look suspiciously skirt-like... and the bodice line is all wrong and modern, too... but as a child of its time, it's delightful). And not only that, but it's superb romantic drama, with some of the greatest movie lines ever, and iconic performances by Bette Davis and Errol Flynn. Quite, quite charming. I also got a little bit of sewing done, and lost myself some more in the fannish nostalgia. Yesterday, it began to seem that the study situation is definitely getting toward clarity. The literature professor took on the whole of my lit.situation and promised to check even the three missing grades I could not find, and to come up with a comprehensive answer on what I still have to do as soon as possible. And the teacher's studies department answered, and I know who to go to and will try to do that today. So things are definitely looking up. I'm not at all as certain of the plans I had for the Autumn fair - I have lost interest in arranging the theatre workshop, because I lack material and don't really have time to search for it, and because I can't for the life of me figure out an acceptable solution to the language problem (people who don't understand Finnish, but also many children and some people who aren't good with English). And also, I think it would be useful to send out some notification of it beforehand and ask possible participants for ideas, but I feel intimidated about making any noise on any of the mailing lists (because there's practically no traffic these days at all), and I was dumb enough not to make a list of the participants' emails (as I confirmed every registration in a direct answer as they came). Oh well, I guess the best way is to do that list now, then, no matter that it's a bother. I also really need to get my own basic money matters sorted out as soon as possible. It's beginning to seem stupid that I can't get it done. 15 Oct 06: The Love We Deserve I really, really want to go to Tampere and see the new play Kaikki se rakkaus mikä sinulle kuuluu ("All of the love that you deserve / that belongs to you"), simply because the name is just so fantastic. Not only does the verb kuulua (jollekin, "belong to someone, be owed to someone") have that breadth of meaning that combines deserving and owning in a way the English verbs don't, but it is also a homonym of kuulua ("be heard"), so another (poetic, secondary) reading of the phrase could also be something like "All the love that you happen to hear about" (or "the telling of which manages to reach your ears", in which interpretation one would be completely outside of all that love). Also, it's made by people who claim to be a voice for the thirtysomething generation, and though the synopsis doesn't sound like my kind of stuff right off the bat, I really, really think I need to see this play. Not that I don't feel I really, really need to start going to the theatre again, anyway! That's something that's certainly going to be a drain to my meager unemployment allowance, once I finally get it coming and therefore have any chance of any draining of it at all. I want it so desperately - I want to feel the stories, I want to enjoy the connection between live actors and audience, and even more the older I get, I want to think. I want to be a part of the cultural conversation, even if just as a listener. I want insights. I want poetry. God, do I want the poetry! But. Well. That is on the waiting list. (And besides, there are many other reasons for which I've wanted to go to Tampere for a long time, already.) However, thinking of that "generational theatre" ties rather much to something that's been playing through my mind again in the past two days or so - ever since an old, old classmate and dear childhood friend of mine emailed me. I haven't heard from her in more than twenty years, but what she told me described a situation that is frighteningly similar to mine. This is not the first time I've been thinking similar thoughts, but it was another proof of it. We truly are the lost generation. The ones who had the world open to them; whose parents worked hard for them and then built a mountain of expectations, now that any possibility was open to their children... but could not yet teach those children self-condifence, daring, experimentation. Could not accept that even in the best circumstances and for the best of goals, people cannot be perfect. And so we could not accept it either, not in ourselves. We didn't yet grow up in the plenty of those born ten or more years after us, but even so we took on the expectations and the duty and guilt, and like the good children we were, tried and tried and never knew our own souls, but unlike previous generations, for the other side of the balance of weights, we did not have the safe structure of extended family or even that of the neighbourhood, nor the safe confines of at least some practical limits to ambition. We had very little besides the openness of everything. And because it crushed us into tiny, nice, obedient souls, we didn't even turn out interesting, like our counterparts of the generation X in America. We couldn't rebel, we didn't believe we could be artistic or that artistic was something one should do except for extra self- expression besides the important things, and obviously, unless you give your whole being to art, it just doesn't happen. We didn't have the means to tolerate our own imperfection and therefore didn't dare much professional ambition in the end, and that made us believe there was not much point to any long-term goals, because all life would be... just this. Just without meaning. We wanted to find meaning, but where could it be found when all values were becoming relative? Except, of course, always and always, accomplishment, of giving more than 100% to what you were asked to do. Alone. We were looking for soul mates, friends and family that would accept us as we were, but since such acceptance was impossible... since we'd been brainwashed with images of perfect love, perfect everything... I've got to stop here and get a grip on my thoughts. I'm just vomiting words here, and it's getting out of hand. I'll try and explain myself better after some thinking. One more thing: not that the demands aren't the same for the younger generations, but they already know much of the problems inherent in our times and culture, and can put names to things like depression and overextension. And it does matter that they were, and are, better provided materially. It does make a difference in a child's trust in what they "deserve" and therefore in themselves. There are many differences, besides the obvious similarities. We are the lost generation, the women in particular. My sisters, all of you, please have mercy on yourself. We are not at fault. We are not responsible for the ills of all the world. (In fact, we are probably not responsible even of a proportional part, considering how much we question ourselves and try to do the right thing.) We do not need to punish ourselves, and tell ourselves that we do not have the right to self-worth. We do. We didn't become rich or successful or come up with a miraculous solution to world peace, but it is not our own fault. We are people, just like the rest, and we try our best. We are no worse, no lazier, no more selfish, no more stupid.. We have the right to exist. I know you try to believe me, but even though you nod, in your deepest hearts you still don't. You want to, but you can't. Someone else needs to tell you you are acceptable, not one of your own, or it has no worth. But it does. We are worthy. We are good enough. And who knows, there's still a lot of time. A lot. Nothing is lost yet, not irreparably. We just need to believe we have the right to follow our dreams. Because we do. We do. So how about that world peace, huh? 13 Oct 06: On The Other Hand (Or, Completely Mad!) That's it. I must have finally lost my mind incurably. Maybe this is the madness so far beyond madness that it approaches sanity from the other direction? See, I started to look through the actual course schedule of the Finnish Department, just to see if I could do some of the second-language acquisition studies attending lectures instead of just exams... and I found several courses that I want to attend even though I won't be able to use them for anything at all. Not even for extra study points (because they've begun already, or because they're only a part of a whole I'm not doing, etc.). But I just want to, just to listen and learn, because the subjects are something I really really want to hear about. And that's... that's got to be some kind of crazy. Possibly even alarming. One doesn't just study for fun. Right? No, no, there are not so many of these odd objects of determined desire that they would in any way endanger my obligatory studies. It's not that, it's the principle of the thing that's just... I don't know. This is major weird territory. Major weird. I'm still flu-ish and stayed at home, because I really really don't want it to last any longer than absolutely necessary. I need and want to be in full force from Monday to Thursday, and then there's the Hukka autumn fair. I can't be sick anymore. One other thing. I decided to drop the paroxetin medication. Its benefits were no longer enough to counter the constant need of sleep - they had lessened in strength anyway, and I'm pretty sure I've just had it for too long. I was dizzy for a couple of days, but it's getting better now, I'm feeling more energetic than I have any right to be with this much wool in my throat and head, and I feel this was absolutely the right decision. I'm still going to be a good girl and go see a doctor and ask if I should try Zoloft. After all, I'm in a completely different shape than I was, say, three years ago, and even my most visible symptoms are different now that I'm in the recovery phase (the acute problems now include things like insomnia or psychosomatic reactions instead of self-hate and bulimia). I know it's probably better for me to have some sort of depression medication even now, and for some time yet, but why should the medication not be adjusted when the whole diagnosis changes? (Night) Another positive thing: Auri visited, and (among lots of nostalgic fan feelings) I delivered the medieval-ish cloak she asked me to make for her husband. One more project finished (instead of just freezing in fear right before the end). Very good. The fannish conversation came about mostly because I couldn't resist delving into the box of my other writings besides college stuff and revisiting my Star Wars passions. Now, unexpectedly, I'm bothered by a fanfic bug, but I'm really not convinced it would be a good idea to indulge it. Even if I found my words cooperating (which is doubtful), the only stories I would want to write are so problematic by topic and plot that I just don't want to deal with that. I know my Star Wars is stubbornly idiosyncratic, but I can't help how I feel about it. I can, however, consider whether the feelings are anything one could share. Probably not. At least not in ways I'd like. But oh, how bittersweet the purity of teenage passion... 12 Oct 06: And Just When You Think... Unfairness. I got another flu, and I'm feeling really miserable right now... And I have no food in the house, and everything sucks. 11 Oct 06: Stepping Stones Today's great pluses: I now know exactly how much I've done for my Finnish studies, what there is yet to do and what the next steps are in figuring out the specific literature to read for that. I know who might help me with my Master's paper, even though the bad news was that this person may not be able to do that officially (they won't have the time). The amount of studies to do is not too much, and what I have to do, I get to do on stuff I want and need (textual analysis on one hand and Finnish-as-second-language on the other). And the secretary was very understanding and encouraging, once she understood my situation and that I am willing to work as hard as need be. As to literature, almost everything in my literature studies seems to be in existence at least according to the one-time-removed- former requirements, so it's probable that I won't have to do a ginormous amount of them again - probably some literature history, since the new requirements have much more of that, and it'll mean work, but it should not be impossibly much. And I get to meet one of the people in charge of the lit. thing tomorrow, and I've managed to email the other, even though they've not yet answered. So some bad there, but much good, too. A lot is getting clearer, finally. School - the program group - felt terribly difficult in the morning (and some time after sitting there, too), but in the end, it got better. Didn't feel quite as much of an outsider anymore. Still do a bit, but, well. I'll live, I think. And I remembered to note the name of a person that may be able to help with the psychological hindrances that still linger. That was a big bonus, too. And Dad and Satu-Tuutu remembered to send me more of the diet shake, so I get back on track with the diet thing as well, which is good, because it's really bugged me these past couple of weeks. Of course, the food matter will be easier once the regular unemploment support gets running, which will hopefully be soon. That is a big plus, too. There's an awful lot to work out yet, but not quite as much as before. And these experiences have proven it true that it is possible to get them worked out. (Night) Why is it that every time I try to dye something into a deep, dark red, the result is a boring, dirty burgundy?? I want to scream in frustration! And there's going to be another one of those games where "Everyone" is going, but I'm not, because it's set in recent history, and I find that unappealing. Now I don't get to game with good, mature players, and I can only blame my own stupid taste. Yeah, it's getting later and I'm getting crankier. That's because I haven't been able to force myself to do as much sewing as I should and still can't keep my interest focused on "Rome" though everyone else seems to find it fantastic. 10 Oct 06: Back To The Question Of Belief Every time someone I know takes up the question of God or religion, I find myself falling back to the fear that they will think I'm an idiot for believing in anything, and furthermore, will make more people think as they do, and so for my own defense I start reiterating my beliefs and non-beliefs. Again, it took me a while to remember that I have done that already. I just don't believe our understanding of the universe is anywhere near complete, and furthermore, I don't believe it can be, not with this capacity for sense and thought and language. Maybe if we evolve into something quite different, we might know significantly more. But that won't be soon. But I don't believe God, or the uber- (or central) consciousness of the universe, however one wants to put it, is "good" in the sense that It is concerned with how a single person's life proceeds (at least not very often). It's easy to see proof that this is not so. I do believe that the ultimate goal of all is greater understanding and the triumph of lifeforce over destruction, chaos and emptiness, and in that sense "God" can be seen as "good". For one person, that's not much of a solace. Still, I do believe prayer has value not as a list of wishes, but as meditation, and not only in the sense of personal psychological discipline, but as a real connection to that which is beyond our conscious knowledge. And I believe that we, human beings, are here to do those things we expect God to do: to take care of each other, and to further understanding and the evolution of the human race towards something greater that we are now. That there is a purpose, but mostly it's species-wide. I believe we have barely begun. I also believe that for most of us, it's possible to find personal purpose and personal sense of harmony as well, but I'm unsure where this fits in the purpose of the species (ie. if the Greater Consciousness ever helps with that deliberately or not, and in what circumstances, if so). Sometimes I feel there is a sense of connection, of getting strength from somewhere else, or of unexpected grace, but it feels unfair that I would be deserving of such when babies starve, prisoners are tortured and people are murdered all over the world. I have no idea. Be that as it may, I certainly don't believe this God accepts or rejects people who honestly try their best to understand the world and live an ethical life, for differences of opinion or failings of imagination. If, that is, there is such a thing as acceptance or rejection of soul at all. If individual consciousness does have a separate, lasting existence, I can't for the life of me see how any Consciousness of Life United could reject any parts of it that are willing to join (for, if consciousness does continue, at that stage there's no question of faith anymore - it's there, so it can hardly believe in its own nonexistence). (Though one could of course posit that it's possible even then to believe oneself out of existence, but though I admit it's possible, it's crueler than I want to believe.) How this relates to certain of Jesus's teachings, I don't know. I still want to believe in Jesus's divinity, but some of the stuff he said is awfully narrow for that. Not the parts on how to treat your neighbour, of course, but he does claim God answers individual prayers, and that he is the only way to God. I don't see proof of the first, and I can't accept the second, in the spirit of his own teachings of equality and compassion. For me, he is familiar and feels right, but for someone on the other side of the world... if God is infinite, I'm sure He has multiple faces that can smile just as warmly. But I'm not an ethical relativist: I believe that good and bad, right and wrong, can be recognised, and that people can choose accordingly. Whatever their faith. (And the one I nominally subscribe to has several faults in their teaching of right and wrong, but I hope I've made that clear enough, before.) I don't know why I wrote this. I don't even know if this is of any use to anyone, even me. I should just not worry about people's opinions, since I can't change them anyway. But it certainly does seem that I need a new denomination, or to change the old one. (Afternoon) Just a note: against expectations, I stayed up, got myself to school and even got all my literature papers along with me. I now know much more about the state of my lit.sit. - no thanks to the secretary, who was of very little concrete help. Well, at least now I know who to go to, though I will have to wait again, as both of the necessary people have their reception hours on Mondays. Oh, and as I feared, there are people in our study program group who have no patience with me and my type of syndrome at all. It's rather unfair to be made to feel inferior for feeling inferior... Anyway, I'm rather together, just tired and impatient at the same time. Will go to sleep now. 09 Oct 06: Upside Down, Still Slept all weekend, which does seem to be getting slightly unnatural. However, haven't slept tonight, for stressing about all those stupid study things (and for what to say to the GMs of a larp I really really want to go to but again didn't manage to make my character requests understandable, at least not in the right way). I'm starting to get really tired of rehashing these strengths-weaknesses tables. I know my weaknesses all too well, and no amount of repetition is going to make me recognise my strengths any better. I just want to forget about such analysis and get on. Anyway, the Perinnearkku folk music club is having a folk jam session tonight at Painobaari. I plan to be there listening, if I'm at all awake. And there's still a few spots at the Hukka Autumn Fair, and two days before the late fee starts to apply. Friends, acquaintances, this would be a good opportunity to try the SCA. There's a tourney, there's a feast, there's dancing, and there's at least some teaching, though the latter is yet unspecified. Come on, it's close and it's cheap (because it's a day event; and if you're not close and need a place to crash, Lummetie is always open). 06 Oct 06: Emergency Over Better now. Tutor told me I'm not the only one, or the worst, and nothing's lost yet. I'm trying to listen to an Excel lecture (which I really need, because that's something I don't know at all yet), but on my way over, I got a panic migraine, and despite relief, compassion and painkillers, it doesn't want to go away. Because of panic and boredom I also managed to write a game report (short, but even so) and an email I've been putting off for more than a week. So, things don't look that bad at all. But I still don't like Salka Valka. 05 Oct 06: No Help This is not working at all. I'm tired all the time, even after having a full night's sleep last night. I can't get moving. I don't believe any of the stuff they offer us at the course is helping (and even when there's something that might be useful, it always happens when I'm too tired to move). I don't believe in my own abilities anymore, again. I don't believe I'm good enough to do this, and I thought there might be something in the program where someone tells me I'm good enough; I can do it; it's okay. But it's not part of the course, and it's clear now I can't do this on my own. I can't do anything, because it's not going to be good enough. I guess I should just die. (Night) I wrote to our course tutors about this, not that I expect anything to change, but at least I can try to let them know and see if maybe some solution might present itself. Dunno. But anyway, while I was putting things down it began to seem to me that this tiredness is not normal, and that even though tests haven't showed anything wrong before, I could still check. And maybe beg for a second, third, whatever, opinion on the mood meds, to see if it would not be better to try some other sort, finally. If the study situation works out, I promise I'll see to the doctor. All sorts of old hurts and grudges are coming to the fore at the moment. Like, I'm still angry and hurt that when I asked to be added to the small RPG theorist mailing list years ago, the maintainer told me how to do it mechanically, but wouldn't bother to add me manually even though I told him that's what was needed. I couldn't help feeling that it was deliberate; that I was clearly too stupid to be added for not knowing the list tricks; or maybe I was actually not wanted there for fear of being too difficult. And it still rankles. It dropped me off from knowledge I really wanted to have, and needed to have, or at least need now. If anything comes of any of this. I've noticed another new problem, besides recognising the inability to concetrate on one single thing for long. I can deal with that one pretty well, but I think this one ties to it as well: I can't prioritize things sensibly. For example, right now I'm reading a Nobel classic that I really should have had read years ago, and now that I've started it, I can't put it down even when I should get to sleep, though I know it will make morning impossible. And it's not because it's so entertaining, but because reading it feels like an absolute obligation to my being a well-educated person. Even though it's not set for anything right now, and I really should be writing a thesis analysis and a thesis plan of my own. See, even now this seems ridiculous? But I can't tell the difference. I honestly can't. I keep being terrified of not having read enough books, or the right books. How can I go to the literature department and claim I have enough of an education in literature (even though technically, in reality, I have taken all the necessary courses), if I haven't read even this elementary-school Nobel winner? Isn't this inability to dfferentiate between what's actually necessary and what isn't, one symptom of attentive-deficit disorder? But even though I have tried the tests on some sites, I really don't have many of the other symptom-clusters at all, just the multiple input problem (which doesn't mean I can do multiple output efficiently, just that I can't concentrate on one thing for long, but if I do many, I can manage; and yes, it's true, and no, I didn't realise it was an actual hindrance until lately, or that every person of reasonable intelligence wasn't like that). Anyway. I feel stupid and insecure and unable to get anything done, and I don't think anyone else in my group is as hopeless, and I don't feel there's much help for this. So what do I do? Apply for disability pension? Become a cleaning lady? What? I remember one of the tutors talking about how I had more than enough capacity for all this when he was commenting on my study plan last Friday, but all that flew out of the door when this week came about and I a) kept being exhausted even after I thought the worst part was done b) went to the Finnish department library and tried to read earlier Master's theses. I'm too stupid even to figure out what the good ones are dealing with, and their reference lists are so huge I couldn't read them in ten years, far less one or two. And the one that I thought deal with something interesting and vaguely familiar - had the lowest passing grade of all. Yes, it had lots of bad grammar, and it probably was poor in other ways, but I just feel totally discouraged. Why did I ever think I could graduate from that department? My brain just doesn't work that way at all. Something in me keeps telling me I'm not stupid, but... (...Later) ...And now that the book came up - I hate reading books where people keep being petty and ridiculous to each other. I can't tell if it's supposed to be humorous or not, and I refuse to believe that people really are stupid enough to claim a child is mentally deficient simply because the child doesn't know the person is an amateur poet and should be flattered on that... or other things along those lines. And if it's supposed to be true, well, there's one reason why I think I prefer science fiction. Reading about the ugliness and pettiness and misery of people that are supposedly realistic (ie. they could have existed somewhat like that in that milieu) upsets me too much. Too much. I want to be good at literary analysis; I want to be a properly civilized human being, but I just - can't - deal - with - the - misery. No, not even now, so I suppose I never will, so I will never really be an intelligent literary debater. And that is bitter, terribly bitter. (Even later) Music (Typically, I only attempt any actual writing when I'm feeling so miserable I can find nothing more pleasant to do to avoid the attempt, once again.) 04 Oct 06: Reporting Made it in the morning to meet the thesis specialist; his comments and ideas were very useful. Made it to the library and chose the thesis to summarize, but by then was too tired to be able to read. Came home, slept, for some reason woke up after a couple of hours, but will now go to bed to be able to sleep a further eight hours instead of trying to steal some more waking hours and push next morning further... Had an unpleasant surprise when I went to one of the places I needed to visit for study matters. Isn't it enough that I'm this scared anyway? Why, why, on top of that, do I have to come across people I know don't think well of me? 03 Oct 06: Now That Clearly Doesn't Work The nights are a paradox of flame and water where the soul comes to a grateful rest, and I need new jogging shoes. (Not that I jog, but anyway. It's much harder to power-walk with the dog without springy shoes. Unfortunately, if there's something that's hard to find second- hand, it's jogging shoes in good shape. Well, perhaps next spring...) It's also satisfactory to notice one just got in ten minutes before the rain started again. And I have to give in: I can't not write, even if my news aren't as good as I would hope for, even now. Despite getting important stuff done last Thursday and Friday, the weekend was nothing but tired, and the week has started in the same vein. And what's worse, since I've been tired (and thus non-moving) and panicky (and thus eating badly) for the past three or four weeks, I'm gaining back all of my precious weight loss, and can't get myself out of the door for feeling I look awful. Seriously can't get out of the door. It wasn't supposed to be like this anymore. Oh well, I did get up and go for a proper walk tonight, and I plan to do a couple of other things on which I've been procrastinating - they might make me feel better about myself, even if they aren't study-related. I wish I could learn to grab the moment and do things instead of waiting. Carpe diem and that stuff, but not in the meaning of living fully, but instead quite concretely doing it now if it can be done now instead of later. Then of course we could argue that I can't "do it now"... but why not? Why not, really? If there are things I need to happen, why not make them happen? Obviously I was not raised to do that, but didn't I already promise myself I was not going to be a slave to any of the old chains anymore? I don't have to hold back, because I just don't have to. I wish I could finally begin to believe that. |