Ad 2:
2016-12-11 14:30:48 (UTC)

There Be Dragons Here!

"Can't Stand It" by Wilco

The way things go
You get so low
Struggle to find your skin
Hey ho
Look out below
Your prayers will never be answered again

Phones still ring
And singers sing
Speakers are speaking in code
What now
Well anyhow
Our prayers will never be answered again

You know it's all beginning
(It's all beginning)
To feel like It's ending
(Feels like It's ending)
No loves as random
As God's love
I can't stand it
I can't stand it

December 11, 2016 Sunday 1:32 PM

It's kind of crazy to think that right now is... Right Now. And it's slipping away as fast as it's happening. This feels like Now, but in a week, it will have been the past. By tonight, it will have been the past. In an hour: the past. And so on.

I know that's not revolutionary, but it always blows my mind. Pretty soon, these words I'm writing now will be the past. It's the same way videos and pictures of dead people really freak me out. It's pieces of a person that no longer exists.

Not the point. I always say that. I'm starting to think of mountains. Seems I've got a million points. Protruding from me, some dull some sharp, small and insignificant. Like mountains from space. The Earth's surface looks so smooth.

Who knows what I am trying to say right now. I feel like I've kinda drifted into the abstract – but I guess I should come back out into the real world now, haha. I've got shits ta do. Things ta say.


I went to Pat today. I didn't tell her that I hurt myself a little, but I told her about the near-suicidal thoughts and all that.

Pat was like, "I know you don't wanna hear this, but I think you should go see [your psychiatrist]."

My "psychiatrist" is actually a very Christian nurse practitioner and she sucks. She doesn't even talk to me. It's like, "You good Veronica?" and I'm like, "Yeah..." cause I don't want it to seem like I'm doing terrible, and she's like, "K, guess everything's fine, you can leave now."

Five minutes.

Pat's complaint is that my "psychiatrist" never actually addressed my anxiety, which she thinks is the root cause of my depressive symptoms and all that.

Because this is what I said to her:

I said I've just been so tired. I need rest, and I need to be alone. Being around people hurts more than usual. It always feels kind of shitty. I start out okay, even on a good day, but it's like humanity just scrapes away at me and it's even worse when I'm depressed because I've already been reduced by several protective layers. They're scratching at raw skin.

Pat was like, "Depression," and I was like, "Surprise, surprise," only that was sarcastic in case you couldn't tell. I wasn't actually sarcastic towards her, though. I think we both knew what it was. She was just clarifying.

So at the end of the meeting, Pat had my dad come in. She gave us a card for a different psychiatrist, one that she hopes will actually address my issues. She thinks that maybe I should get off the Wellbutrin since it isn't actually preventing the periods of depression that I keep experiencing.

Pat also said, and okay I feel bad writing this out (it feels braggy and weird and gross), she said that, um. Pat was all, "I see a lot of patients, so I can see that her thought process is very unique, but.." and she gestured to me, "She doesn't realize it."

Pat went on to talk about how I feel isolated from other people because I'm... not.... quite... like other people??? She wasn't trying to say I'm better or anything. I'm just not the same. But then, I'm not quite capturing her words, because when I put it the way I did above, then it sounds like a blanket statement – like everyone else thinks a certain way. Like it's rigid or something. Plenty of people are different. What am I talking about?

Pat also said that that feeling of isolation, and the fact that I don't know I'm "unique" or whatever, has me feeling like an imposter.

She added, "She's doing marvelous and she doesn't know it," so that was nice.

And I cannot grasp it.

I feel kind of OK now, though. I've felt okay since Friday. I stayed home Thursday, got nothing done, basically just sat on the couch with my cat the whole time. But I think it was good for me. I really felt so shitty. It was... good.

We read my college essay in class on Friday, and it got very little criticism, which made me paranoid. Plus, I said something stupid that I regret, but doesn't that always happen?

We went to the New York State museum a bit later, to talk to the curators and visit their labs (which was SOOOO COOOL. I will elaborate later) and while walking alongside Ruth, my professor, I was like, "Yeah, I still don't like my essay."

She said, "That's because you're a writer," or something.

That made me feel weird. It just feels like such a lie. All the time. I'm not cut out for this. I'm not cut out for anything.

I was also talking to Sarah about how I want to visit a planetarium and she was like, "Let's go over break!" and I was like, "..... uh.... yeah........." only I think I said it more enthusiastically. I felt more '...uh....yeah....'-ish though.

I like Sarah, but I'm scared to be friends with her. She's so aggressive. Dominant. Emotionally unstable? I'm afraid I'd be carried along by her. That's why it's annoying to be lab partners with her sometimes. She thinks much faster than I can think, and so she's always taking control and god damn it.

It's much easier for me to think on my own. To plan on my own. Around her, I feel kind of stupid. The stupid-ness isn't the bad part though. I also feel kind of like her assistant. Not her equal.

When we talk, we're on even ground, but otherwise... yeah.

Also, sometimes she laughs at things that I just.. don't find that funny. And she laughs hard. It's kind of awkward, to stand there chuckling at something that isn't all that amazing. Is it more awkward to just stand there unsmiling, though?

With the chuckling, I feel fake, but unsmiling, I just... feel uncomfortable.

Well, okay. I'm uncomfortable either way. Whatever.


One of the curators, an ornithologist, was just super excited about his job. He described the process of prepping the specimens, and he talked about DNA analysis, his research, etc. etc. I thought the prepping was the coolest part though. They get dead birds, scoop out their guts, keep their shape pinned until they dry, then stuff 'em and freeze 'em for a bit before putting them with the other specimens.

With skeletons, they have some beetles eat all the meat, and then they soak it in some kind of chemical, let the bones dry and rebuild them. It's just so cool okay.

I got to hold a stuffed snowy owl and it was the softest thing in the world. Amazing.

If I'm anything when I grow up, I want to be him. Not with his job exactly, although being a curator sounds really cool, but I mean... I just want to live the way he does, hopping with energy and enthusiasm and there was a little drawing of an ancient serpent on his white board, slithering in and out of the sea, with a caption that read, "There be dragons here!"

It made me want to rip my heart out and chuck it at him. He is the ultimate goal. He is the happy. Wrap my heart in a god-damn bird carcass.

It is almost 3 o' clock. Time to do homework or write somewhere that is Not Here.

ONE LAST THING!!! (two last things actually)

I had a talk with Isaac Friday. I'm less annoyed with him. We agreed that we don't know each other. He was all, "I want to get to know you" and I was like... *shrug*

"I'm gonna call you," he said, "And you're gonna pick up the phone. And we're gonna have a nice conversation."

"Ugh, I haaate phone calls."

"I'm gonna call you–"

"I'm not gonna pick up. No offense."

"I take offense. You're gonna pick up the phone..."

"Dude. C'mon," I said something like this probably, "No phone calls. Don't take it personally, I just need space, even ask Liv, sometimes I disappear off the face of the earth..."

"I bet she hates it," he countered.

"Um..." did she? "Yeah probably," even though I'm not sure. "But still."

"You're gonna pick up."

"You know the more you insist, the less I want to do it?"

He hasn't called me, so I guess I managed to hammer it into his head. I'm sort of hesitant to continue with this friendship, especially if he has a thing for me, but whatever. All I have to do is be honest. Which is hard. But I will do it.

I also said something embarrassing like, "There is something wrong with me," and then I covered it up with, "But it's okay because I'm a functional human being," and I wish I could just take that whole exchange back. I hate when my angst comes out in weird ways like that. No, self, shut up. There's nothing wrong with you. You are just. Lame.

!!!!!! Liv came over yesterday, which was nice.

It was nice to talk to her, hear her complain about the kids in her grade, who are kind of mean. Then, she told me about how she thinks she is stupid. But the problem is, Liv isn't like the other kids – or even like me. She doesn't have time to study (she takes AP classes and honors and stuff). Liv has to work to pay two bills and sometimes her mom spends her money (most recently on a date), aaaand Liv has no way to get to school except by using the city bus line, which tacks an extra hour onto any traveling distance, so she never gets home until late and...

People just. She's not cut any slack for this because she doesn't tell anyone. I suggested she tell her guidance counselor at least, and I think she will. Poor Liv. I wish Liv could live with me, but... yeah, haha. That wouldn't work.

I love Liv.

After she left, I felt empty still. I think I'm filling up again, though.

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