Fuck Tuesdays ~ Sep 1, 10:12 AM

Seriously. I’m sure it’s gorgeous outside and I have no motivation to go see it because my day is bisected by therapy, with a new therapist who is remarkably close to my age. And wears stupid clothing. Whatever, I’m being judgmental because I hate getting to know a new therapist. And I miss my old therapist.
I never got my cry before leaving Philly, and I wanted that. Desperately. My thought was that if I had the freak out during the stress of packing I could avoid all this moodiness when I got up here.
Everyone has been brilliant and helpful and sweet and friendly and I couldn’t want a better welcome or a nicer living situation.
But my meds are going through an adjustment, by which I mean I am not on any psych meds and that’s not really what this is, so much as the natural low that follows the manic like high of moving and packing and all that.
So this is normal.
But to a huge extent depression is pointless when you aren’t suicidal. If I’m not going to kill myself, then I’m just going to be depressed until I’m not anymore. So why not try to speed this whole thing along as much as possible.
I have gone back to writing every morning which will help in the long run. Right now I’m only doing prompts and exercises, but I can’t go online until I’ve hit 1,000 words, which takes me about an hour and I’m hoping by next week I will have gotten into the habit of writing enough that I’ll be able to go and work on actual stories. Currently I’m just expelling a lot of the crap that comes from not writing enough. There are a few pieces that need rewrites and that might be a good project for next week.
Oh and last night was the first night of class. I found the class and made it through. It’s 18th Century and it’s drenched in history so it’ll be a different thing for me, which can be a very good thing if I let it be.
Okay I’m feeling better, partially due to the mainlining of caffeine. Now to plan my day.

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In Which I Explain All That I Have Been Ignoring ~ Apr 29, 08:36 AM

Okay so here’s the deal. I got into a grad school that I wanted to go to. But I didn’t get accepted for the program I wanted (the MFA), instead they offered to let me go for the MA. I’m accepting. The school, by the way, is Brooklyn College, part of the CUNY schools. It was a crap year to apply for the MFA, and I really want to get a start on grad school and get out of philly. Also this could be a sign that the Ph. D route might be more practical for me than the MFA route.
I don’t know. But that’s the story of Brooklyn. I’m moving late August. I have no other details now.
I’m done finals in 8 days, and I actually walk for graduation in 17 days. I will graduate with honors (it’s very likely suma) along with other accolades. all the while I’m irritated because my family, the people who are supposed to be supportive, may be telling me how proud of me they are with one breath, but the rest of their breath concerns their troubles, which I’ve been unable to fix. Basically it’s my fault everyone will die homeless in a box, but that’s cool, cause I earned grad school. Whatever. This is why I’m in therapy.
Sometimes I just want someone to love me more than they love themselves. Which is a lot. I get that. But that’s what your parents are supposed to do, right? Not in this family. In this family it’s every addict and ne’er-do-well for themselves. It’s like being raised by grifters and jackals.
I don’t know. But that’s my family, and that’s why I’m grumpy even though everything I’ve worked for for the last three years in culminating in a more amazing way than I ever would have anticipated.
I’ve already given up on my final for the most part.
Yesterday I spent the day reading 1602 by Neil Gaiman and Today I started Classic Crews: A Harry Crews Reader.
I’ve got 2 major papers left and 2 sit down exams.
I don’t know. Whatever. This entire blgo entry can be summed up by the title of a recent Newyork Times article that is oddly enough unrelated, A Tiny Hominid With No Place on the Family Tree.

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