unreasonably rational

Through their magazine, i learned about NAMI's app, NAMI AIR. It lets you post anonymously, more anonymously than a blog. Much more anonymously than Facebook. But similar to Facebook, you can read posts from other people, only without a name or profile picture. Like Facebook, you can "like" something. But what about the sad posts? NAMI AIR is a step ahead of Facebook because it has a button like the "like" button that is the "hug" button. And because you don't know them and they don't know you and they can't even trace your hugs to your posts, it isn't awkward to hug a stranger. There are two more options for responses. One is to leave a hashtag comment. There is a list of phrases or words for you to choose from. The other option is the "me too" button, which in turn allows you to write a post "inspired" by the one you just said "me too" about. You can trace backwards or forwards through inspired posts. ...

Dear Louisa, i know your name isn't Louisa, but it seems a little insensitive to use your real name on a blog post. But i really am writing to you, or to the idea of you, or the memory of you, seeing as i don't know if you get to read blogs in heaven at this point. Firstly, i love you. I believe you knew that. But I'd like to tell you again, even though i understand it wouldn't change things. And Louisa, i know i haven't called for a while. We were both going through a really tough time and i wasn't sure i was up to sharing burdens with you while both of ours were so heavy. I want you to know i wasn't upset with you. It's just i needed to focus a bit more positively. But I'm not blaming you for your struggle or for saying what you did. It's just that sometimes we have to take care of our selves, first. I hope you understand. I think you would understand. But i love you so much. And you have helped me so much. And i wish I'd called you in A...

I hate depression and anxiety. Let me fill this first paragraph with nothing so you have time to leave and read a happier post if that is a better way to take care of your self. Depression and anxiety are robbers. They steal life. They steal energy. They steal joy. They steal time. They steal rest. They steal bits and pieces of life. And occasionally, they lead to the stealing of a whole life. One of my friends, who has supported me many times, has left this earth from complications of depression and anxiety, if you will. It is strange to think about, but our culture builds into feelings of guilt for survives, in a similar way to how modesty supporters add to the guilt of certain victims when they make the lady responsible for the man's thoughts in how she dresses. We broadcaste the stories about valedictorians telling how people saved their life from suicide by small acts of kindness, then command people not carry guilt for what they maybe could have done after someone does los...

My trouble with days off started when i was a kid. My mom gave us our birthdays off of chores and school work. Which was very nice and more or less the equivalent of an extra day off work as an adult. Like my three day weekend going on now. And as a child, i was glad, but then i felt all pressured to use the day just right. The perfect choice of activities. Cleaning my desk or file box. Having fun and relaxing. Perfectly, so i didn't waste my once a year day off of chores and schoolwork (i was homeschool, so even a summer birthday meant a break from school). But all this pressure and anxiety over my free time really detracted from my enjoyment. Forward to the present, this is my first long weekend since whatever time off we had for New Year's day. And i have freaked out. All that pressure like i had as a child. And it multiplies itself, because the anxiety detracts from my enjoyment, which means I'm not "doing it right," so I'm upset with myself for being up...

People sometimes recognize that mother's day can be hard if your mother has passed away. Or if you had a rough relationship with your mom. Or if you are struggling through infertility. And they should recognize this pain. But what about the single lady who just doesn't have a significant other nor a baby? What about me? What about the baby i wish i had? On Valentine's day, i still have enough single Facebook friends to see at least one post about Singles Awareness Day. And we have a cute preschool party. And i buy myself a Valentine's gift. But mother's day? I thought about buying myself flowers, but i already got some in a base from teacher appreciation week. And if i get the wrong flowers, they will aggravate my allergies. And then there is medication side effects. Specifically being very tired. If i had a baby, people would understand. But hey, i live alone. There is no good excuse, aside from maybe insomnia, which, thankfully, i don't currently have. And...

Well, i got a new-to-me car. And got my old car fixed. And I'm exhausted. The car search distracted me from my regular depression and anxiety. So now that I'm done, my old, familiar thoughts slowly filter back. At first they are like going back home or getting my old car back. They are normal, and i can actually recognize my life with them around. Then they slowly shift back to being irritating. That's just depressed thinking. Or, that's just my anxiety. Which leads to my more typical weariness as opposed to the weariness of finding and bargaining for a car, a situation that i knew would bring stress to even the most mentally healthy person out there. This morning, i got that trembly feeling that sometimes accompanies medication changes (or even taking medication late, which could be the explanation this time since i slept in). I cold hold my relaxed hand up and watch my fingers move slightly of their own accord. I find this exhausting. Maybe because i fight it, mayb...

I'm waiting to feel hungry for supper, but i keep eating more Easter candy. Somehow i think I'm working against myself here. The latest SNRI might possibly be working. It for sure seems to make me tired and more able to fall asleep. And then there is the monkey wrench. My dear old car broke. To the unsafe-to-drive point. To the point where the mechanic and my brother-in-law both suggest i begin looking for a new car. Now, my car is a very important part of my normal. It gives me the freedom to leave my apartment whenever i choose. It carries a collection of items that i either never brought into my apartment or that i intentionally keep in my car in case i need them while I'm out. But I'm looking to replace my car now. So part of me wants to search for this car with the tenacity of an obsessive compulsion.and another part of me wants to forget about it (avoidance, anyone?). And instead, I'm trying to strike a balance between searching for a car and giving my...