Dawnkiller

The annual OCD-related post

2012-09-27T07:18:43Z

Every once in a while I do one of these posts for the newbies, or to set down for myself what I've been able to observe about my behavior vis a vis my mental illness and how I handle it. Or, as in this case, both.

This is not, please, to be seen as a passive-aggressive comment to anyone. I've been thinking on this a while. I'm just working some things out.

I believe most know I have obsessive-compulsive disorder and an improving but still operative panic disorder. It is probably less known that there are particular things that exacerbate it: general life disasters, financial stress and exhaustion are some standard ones, but the biggest are matters involving illness and death. The last extends to those which affect people I care about, even if I don't know the ill or deceased individual in question. In the past two weeks I have experienced all three: work disasters, a cracked radiator, a coworker whose sister went into congestive heart failure followed by massive bleeding, and an anniversary of a death. The last is worst of all, because I mourn not just a friend, but the faith I once had in my own mind. I learned the hard way that no matter how determined, logical or objective you strive to be, some things cannot be controlled.

Aside from the compulsive aspects, fortunately not obvious online, a flare in my OCD has a number of consequences. Socially I become irritable and fatalistic, and with no patience for personal or policy conflict. Not knowing how to detach my personal issues from interaction, I prefer to isolate -- not just to avoid hurting feelings or killing someone else's mood, but to avoid the inevitable guilt that results from doing so. During this phase I'm prone to anger or panic if people make overtures in the form of involving me in anything. It's an overreaction that generally runs along the lines of "I'm trying to hang onto my sanity by my fingernails, and now you want something?". The mindset isn't fair, it's not productive, and I would rather cut contact altogether than take it out on people who are, more often than not, either ignorant of what's happening or actively trying to help me out of it. As well, it prevents me from absorbing and adding outside stress (and I'm a hell of a sponge even on my good days).

I do not plot and rarely log during these periods, and I will try to explain why. My obsessive spells are primarily characterized by looping thoughts. There's your standard OCD junk, like bizarre nonsense phrases and the sort of anxieties which have kept everyone up until 4 am at some point in their lives, but there's also thoughts and ideas. I suppose you could call it over-stimulation, a too-active mind. When I'm bad, I will be caught in compulsions for an hour or more before I can even attempt sleep, and thereafter spend the next three to five lost to obsession. About anything.

Many people know what it's like to wait a disproportionately long time for a relatively simple pose from me. This is either because I'm looping, unable to stop rewriting the response, or because the anxiety has resulted in a panic attack. The latter is less common these days, but in extreme cases I cannot proceed without medication. I don't like the reaction and I don't like the dependency it causes, which is why I prefer to avoid the situation entirely. However, even "passive" participation like plotting (or even just waiting for a pose to arrive) can spark obsessive thinking. At the computer or lying sleepless, I write and rewrite poses. I replay ideas, scenes and scenarios, regardless of whether they're actually active or merely potential. I miss sleep, and this makes me even more susceptible to what I think of as another day of "bad signal": those times my brain feels like a detuned radio and I can barely make out the sole coherent thought against the background noise.

I should point out it's not only the game that does this, but unlike my solo-work it's not something I can scrape out of my head by getting up at 3 am to work on (re: the timestamp on this post). In the case of logging, the more I loop and the longer the log persists the more anxious I become -- that I can't just let it go, that the quality of my work isn't good, that the other party is unhappy with what I'm doing, and so on. This can be offset to a degree by communication, but not always, and as with the aforementioned 3 am period this is occasionally not feasible. If allowed to build too long, the obsession and anxiety can become a panic attack. Collaboration means you need at least one other person to make any progress, and the impulse is to stay away from things that leave my sanity in the hands of an outside party.

There are certain things I do to combat these periods, the biggest of which is to ground myself in the physical world. Leaving the house at times other than strictly necessary, things to keep my hands busy, taking more walks, using physical books rather than the internet, reducing stimuli an hour at least before attempting sleep, etc. I initiate contact if I feel I need it, delay replies for hours or even days if I feel anxiety is corrupting my initial reaction. Take medication if there's no other way. Mostly I just try not to be stupid and avoid things that might set me off -- though of course some stress is unavoidable.

It comes and goes. Soon I will begin the familiar process of pushing the fallen boulder back up the hill, hopefully not to have it roll back on me again for some time. For now, I'm going to continue to lay low.

And anyway, I see my psychiatrist soon and if I don't he's going to kick my ass.

Wow

2011-04-20T02:38:15Z

In the last week I have:

1) Spent the night with a friend as she explained the brother she buried last week actually had a psychotic episode during which he set his apartment on fire, ultimately killing himself from burns and smoke inhalation;

2) Had two great-uncles on opposite sides of the family die the same day (Monday, almost exactly 12 hours apart);

3) Been observing a bizarre incident unfold at one of my jobs, which included allegations of a patient buying and abusing narcotics, conspiring with a meth addict after dumping her stable and loving husband, neglecting her small children, and committing murder of a family member for inheritence money, culminating in my boss having a meeting with the head of the local FBI field office.

I feel these the last few days can be summarized in six words: "What is this I don't even."

Yes.

As a completely arbitrary addendum, I also spent some time vehemently rejecting a friend's suggestion I hook up with a webzine as their Female Reviewer of Genre Fiction on a number of grounds, including such facts as the zine not supplying the review materials and paying only $20 for a review (ie, less than the cost of a hardback book, effectively requiring I lose money to contribute, and $30 less than my father makes for comparable online work) and the detail that declaring myself any kind of female perspective whatsoever is probably false advertising. (And though I see what they're trying to do, I'm mildly insulted when it's assumed women have markedly different opinions on things like quality, story, and subject matter. It'd be one thing if they wanted to explore, say, specific issues the treatment of women in the works of Heinlein vs. Whedon or something, but having a female reviewer just to say you have one on payroll makes my eyes roll right out of my head.)

Now I return to my exciting life. I've got this burgeoning dog-induced contusion on my foot that I am mapping as it grows more colorful by the day. Call me crazy, but I wanna see how this shit turns out.

Damn car

2011-02-08T05:04:29Z

So last Friday the steering arm in my car broke in the middle of a commute from one job to another. If you have never experience this before, it's like going into a skid that never ends. Even though this is normally the result of striking a pothole at high speed, 1) I recall no such impacts, 2) I do not drive at high speeds, especially on icy roads (ie, the last month), and 3) the mechanic found none of the associated damage that would indicate this to be the case. His best guess is either rust or simple part failure. This just adds insult to injury, since at $400 for a repair I feel I should at least have been getting in some sweet off-roading.

Despite my impending financial purgatory, this morning I had the world's most obvious epiphany that I was probably depressed for most (if not all) of 2010 rather than just the last quarter of it. I realized this only because now that I've picked up the second job I've found I have more energy, a little more sociability, and generally feel less like shit. I do like the second job, which helps considerably, but I suspect the major issue was my financial situation. In 2009 my hours started getting cut back to 4 days a week, then in 2010 it became 3, then 2. I understood the need, since the company just wasn't making money (and as the book-keeper oh man did I know it), but when you've got medication costs, a car payment, rent and student loans and you're only working 10 hours a week understanding only gets you so far. I knew the OCD was flaring; somehow, though, I missed the concomitant depression until it had hit critical mass. (Seriously, how many of these rodeos do I have to attend until I take notice before the bull kicks me in the face?)

I don't want to quit my original job, since I like my coworkers and find it easy work, but I'm beginning to realize that if it continues as it has been I may not have a choice. The infrequent and super-flexible work hours that are ideal for some are driving up my anxiety level. This isn't fun under normal circumstances, but with a mental illness . . . well, yeah. I've been trying to coast along under the Shikata Ga Nai setting, but there comes a point when even the justification becomes unsustainable. The bottom line is that the second job gives me more hours at greater pay and, most importantly, stability. Right now, anything that staves off brain shenanigans is at the top of my priority list. If nothing else, depressive funks are @#$%ing boring.

Almost back to a full work-week

2011-01-21T04:37:46Z

So I'm about to finish my second week with a local internist, and it's going pretty well. I enjoy my coworkers, especially the main receptionist (who I'm primarily supporting and so thank god we get along), I work a few more hours there, and I have a substantially higher salary. It is for this reason that I thank the 8" of snow for falling today and not tomorrow, when my next shift is.

Favorite quote so far, uttered after the order of an STD panel: "Is there a diagnostic code for 'dumb'?"

Unfortunately, from the start I knew that eventually I'll see something that will haunt me. After a good first day I went to the elevators and heard a woman leaving a tearful message for her husband. When she got on with me I asked her if she was okay; she confessed that no, she'd had a bad test result. I didn't ask which. She was crying. I gave her an uncharacteristic hug, but that one stayed with me for a while. That woman was a stranger, but the office has a number of dementia patients and at least one suffering from MS, so it's only a matter of time.

But that's a small worry. There's social interaction but at a managable pace, and it's a good place to see different types of people, which is useful on any number of levels. Plus, I'm markedly less weird now that I'm working more than 10 hours a week, and that's always good.

Now off to a little more Unseen Academicals and what I hope isn't going to be an icy commute tomorrow.

dawnkiller @ 2011-01-03T23:01:00

2011-01-04T05:02:05Z

Well, the dog's bill of health came back clean (but no less expensive), so that's good. Especially since it proved to be a good conversation piece in today's interview.

I went to see the job prospect today. I wore gender-appropriate clothing and everything. It's the office of a concierge doctor, 13 hours a week (as opposed and in addition to my current 10), and mostly backing up the overworked medical assistant. After I finished talking to her boss I asked to talk to her, since we'd be working together, and after realizing I had no questions seized upon a key physical clue and asked if she had a pet. Indeed, she had a 6 month old basset hound. Having had several animal-related jobs, I recognize claw marks when I see them. We then proceeded to spend abot 20 minutes not talking about the job I was interviewing for.

So I start Friday. The speed is not unusual, the physical interview being the point at which I deploy my Mind Powers.

(I'm not sure why my parents express such shock every time I tell them I've gotten whatever job I'm going for. I've never been turned away once I've reach the interview stage.)

Anyway, all caught up on the Dresden Files, with the exception of the contents of Side Jobs. I did quite enjoy Changes, although I think Butcher occasionally suffers for his conservation of detail (for example, I spotted the traitor of Turn Coat back in Proven Guilty), though that may just be because I can spot the techniques he uses to lay groundwork. I also seem to be pretty good at projecting the narrative fate of his secondary characters, but his climaxes are nicely unpredictable and he's outright blindsided me a few times, and I appreciate that. I enjoy, too, that he's not afraid to destroy the status quo, which I think too few authors do when they have a playground and premise like the one Butcher's created. All in all, it's been a worthwhile few weeks of reading.

Dumb dog

2010-12-28T05:26:37Z

(Not that it isn't always, but I do need to recall when this happened for veterinary reasons.)

Today I let the damn thing romp through the elementary school woods, slipped the lead back on it, took a few steps with it, and it promptly had a seizure. At first I thought it was limping due to ice in its back pawpad, but once I cleared that out the same weird limping gait happened with a forepaw. I lifted that one, and then suddenly all three of the dog's legs turned to jelly and it started to lose its balance. It wobbled around for a few seconds, developed a full-body tremble, and went vacant-eyed. Moreso than a dog usually is.

Weirdly, he never actually fell; I think he was still quasi-responsive, because when I saw he was staggering I told him to go into a sit and he did (with a few seconds' delay). I sat down on the asphalt and let him lean against me for a minute or so, during which I had a lot of time to think about how much it was going to suck if he couldn't get up again with my parents out of town and us both out of eye and ear-shot of nearby houses.

(This was especially surreal because, honestly, if I'd had to guess which one of us would've ended up suffering some catastrophic health-event during a walk, I'd have been sure it would be me . . .)

Anyway, he came out of it eventually and I managed to get him walking back home. I don't think he really registered what was going on again until we'd left the school grounds, at which point he heard a car and immediately transformed back into his hyperactive self. By the time we got back home he was alert and prancing again, but I dragged his fluffy ass to the vet anyway. Something about random seizures can put one in an urgent state of mind.

Long story short, vet found no immediate heart abnormalities (her first guess), so we're waiting for the labs to come back on his various cultures. He'd been showing no signs of neurological abnormalities before or after, so the whole thing was really perplexing. Barring a brain tumor or electrolyte imbalance or something, she said it could just be one of those strange one-off things pets and people experience sometimes. But you know, this is Wilson, so it's probably gonna be something expensive. (Though I'd be okay if it was just epilepsy. If I knew it wasn't immediately dangerous the noodleleg-effect would be hysterical.)

Either way, that is how the dog ruined my Monday afternoon.

Otherwise, nothing exciting. Got a phone interview for a hospital job on Thursday (set up by my current boss, in fact). Part-time, but still more than I'm getting at my current job. Brothers are in town for a bit. And Abyss has me reading Jim Butcher's Dresden Files, of which I have just begun Turn Coat. Fun stuff . . . and I will be forever grateful that Laurel K. Hamilton will not be Missouri's sole contribution to urban fantasy.

Two things I learned on Halloween:

2010-11-01T13:26:07Z

1) AMC's adaptation of The Walking Dead is pretty good, if predictable, and

2) When my friends and their weekend host have drunken lesbian sex with too much S in the requested M, I am the one they call.

Re: #1: I found the crawling torso strangely touching, which I credit to the filming. Nice dichotomy between nature/peace and, you know. Zombie.
Re: #2: What the hell is my local reputation?

Still feeling out the new med regimen. The new addition is what's essentially time-release xanax that makes me a bit time-release stoned, which, while a nice change from paralyzing anxiety, periodically makes me very interested in things only slightly more fascinating than carpet patterns. I'll have to wait for myself to habituate a little before I can assess functionality.

Oh, yeah. There goes the first hit now. Good times.

dawnkiller @ 2010-10-28T16:53:00

2010-10-28T21:53:58Z

So okay, I finally got an appointment with my psychiatrist. I did not arrive in particularly great shape, needing a full xanax just to stop shaking, and I guess it showed, because at the end of the session the doc did something I've never seen happen before and waived the entire $250 session fee. He told the receptionist it was "just a little thing I'm doing for me", and then she told me to put my credit card away. (Jesus, how bad did I look?) If there hadn't been other people in the waiting room I would have hugged him. That was the biggest break I'd had, for anything, in months. I still can't believe he did it.

I got my scripts renewed, and I have a new one that I hope will help with the constant anxiety, and I didn't have to shell out half of my monthly earnings to get them. So yeah. Today was a pretty good day.

dawnkiller @ 2010-10-26T01:28:00

2010-10-26T06:28:09Z

I think my psychiatrist just did the equivalent of breaking up with me over Facebook. I assume that's what it means when your psychiatric meds get refused a refill on the grounds you're "no longer a patient" and his office doesn't return your messages.

I get that he doesn't like it that I go 9-11 months between visits, and I respect that he doesn't like to feel like a drug dispensory. It's one of the reasons he's a good doctor. But it would be nice if I'd gotten a phonecall or something telling me what was up instead of just getting cut off cold-turkey from a medication prescribed for an anxiety disorder at the most stressful point of the past two years. It's actually gotten bad enough that I think I really do need regular therapy, but because my company is collapsing I'm only earning $386 a <b>month</B> and I cannot fucking afford it because sessions are $250 per hour.

The thing is, this isn't the end of the world. Presumably I'll eventually get in touch with him and straighten this out, or go to my mom's (cheaper) doctor. Likewise, I might as well try some time away from the sertraline anyway -- it'll save me a monthly expense, and plenty of people have and do go without. This is not a dire situation. But it is one that's pissing me off, because of all the reasons I should still be up and angry at 1:30 in the morning a mental health professional should not be one of them.

So fuck it. I'm up. I'm going to write.

dawnkiller @ 2010-06-14T14:28:00

2010-06-14T19:28:30Z

Erf. Kind of up and down the past week. Thursday I was feeling well enough to do a little exposure-therapy on myself in the form of doing shots of vodka (inebriation being as close as I can get to triggering a hypochondriacal reaction to medication without risking an OD), and that went well. Friday night, when I arguably needed it more, went less so and despite not pushing it I'm still having the odd spell of jitters. Additionally, a helpful rash of thunderstorms is making my head pound. I am medicating when necessary.

Running with other neighborhood dogs almost every night of the week is having the unexpected side-effect of making the beast better behaved . . . I guess. He's started waiting for my permission at the base of the gate even if it's already open and, bizarrely, allowed my to dissuade him from chasing a roller blader despite a lack of leash or any other control device. It's uncharacteristic verging on actively creepy. Less creepy and more disgusting is that he's developed some boils on his belly which I strongly suspect to be a resurgence of allergies. After a useless week of appealing to my father, I showed my mother. I'm hoping she got him in today, before the rash achieves

Current free-writing is plotless and fragmentary, which is fine for the context. It's something like the sixth time I've tried to work on the same basic idea. I think the main problem is tone. I tend to adopt that lofty, vaguely pretentious tone with certain subjects which bores me even as I write. Need to work on that. But I am proud I finished pencils at work today; usually I work at home, but I was so behind this weekend I thought what the hell. And I finished it all before my boss even showed up, so, you know, win. Less to do when I get home.

That's all I got. It's no wonder I don't post much.

dawnkiller @ 2010-04-08T10:02:00

2010-04-08T15:02:03Z

Well, Auntie Setsu died this morning. It wasn't unexpected, since her liver and kidneys had been failing and she was in the hospital, and she and everyone else was prepared, so that's good. My folks are going to drive up tomorrow, though there's no arrangements yet. I'm glad her immediate family still lived in the area, so her kids and grandkids were around her. I'm really more concerned for Uncle Sammy -- he had a pretty bad stroke a few years ago that left him with limited mobility. Marc and Suzie will probably take him in again, I think.

dawnkiller @ 2010-02-23T21:16:00

2010-02-24T03:17:06Z

@%*# my dog was bitten by a neighbor's dog. They've played fine during the day, but something just did not go right. Dark + the lighted collars the other ones wear, I guess. Wilson now has a nice puncture wound on his front leg. Clipped the fur from the area and cleaned it as best I could, but it definitely goes right down to the muscle. Awesome. It's back to the vet tomorrow.

Also my grandfather apparently screamed and swore at his physical therapist today, which is extremely out of character for him, which means they're going to have to test him for a stroke again. February can fucking die.

dawnkiller @ 2010-02-22T09:57:00

2010-02-22T15:57:17Z

Spent most of the weekend feeling dog-sick due to the NAC (happens when I pick it up again, should be fine soon), but at least I've got the stuff again. It helps a little, at least psychologically. Still feeling messed up, though. 5 hours of sleep last night if that. The rain is not helping.

My grandfather is recovering from pneumonia after having aspirated food into his lungs; for some reason his esophogas stopped working for a couple days. He finally sat up and was able to eat a solid meal again yesterday, which is good, though we're pretty sure it's the end of his independent living. He's going to hate that. He's been transferred to a convalescence facility for 2-3 weeks. I think my mom, still in Ohio, is really stressed out about it; she's had that vibe when we speak on the phone. I also think dad is stressed on her behalf, and missing her, because he calls her twice a day. The dog continues to be the dog, but scabbier.

Working. Working. Still working. I'm thankful we have a Yamaha in our house, because a piano's a hell of a thing to draw without reference. Trying not to get stressed about it, since I know it's just carry-over from the family shit. I've found myself skirting being stuck in a loop a couple of times, which is pretty obvious because textual errors (the result of too many rewrites) start appearing in the final product. Thank god I have readers who will point these things out.

And my chorizo-flavored claypot rice recipe is better when you add carmelized onions.

So far 2010 is not helping.

2010-02-18T19:25:23Z

So we're sort of worried my grandfather is dying. Last week he collapsed in his home and had to call the EMTs, and while he was in for something fairly innocuous (vertigo) he seems to be getting worse. This morning mom left for Ohio to stay with him for a while. I am fine, but I am also writing this entry deeply stoned. My OCD, which has been hopping for about 3-4 weeks now, still awaits the arrival of those damn supplementary drugs. I went off for a time because they're a bit expensive in the doses I have to take them in, but right now, screw it. I am somehow still getting work done.

Lest you think all life is torment I will add that I did have an enjoyable Valentine's day. My friends and I had dinner. Broccoli and cheddar quiche is pretty good, and Bloody Mallory and Tropic Thunder are entertaining movies. I also tried to make chinese clay pot rice, though since I couldn't find any good chinese sausages I just threw in a chorizo. I did not then and do not now know what they are. They do turn rice orange, though. Also acquired "The Heroes of the Greeks" and the Samuel Butler translations of the Iliad and the Odyssey. Annoyed by the use of Roman names, but I think it was like ten bucks for both, so I'll take it.

Oh, and the dog managed to chew himself all the way into an infection, so the vet's pumping him full of prednisone. For now, his tail looks like a graft from a Resident Evil enemy.

Ghetto udon

2010-01-10T21:19:45Z

Since I made it from crap I found in my fridge and I'm not yet displaying symptoms of food poisoning:

Broth:
- 3-4 cups dashi stock
- 2 tsp soy sauce
- 2 tsp sugar
- 1 tsp mirin
- A little garlic and ginger

Random stuff:
- broccoli
- mushrooms
- egg
- spaghetti noodles

Yeah. I made a classic Japanese dish with spaghetti noodles. I would have loved to use real udon, but I don't really have that lying around the house.

I fried the mushrooms first because I prefer that taste and consistency to "stewed" mushrooms. I should have hard-boiled the egg, as is traditional; theoretically a raw one is supposed to poach when you add it to the dish. Instead it exploded. C'est la vie.

It wasn't bad, although I'd have liked to have some kamaboko. Maybe some potato.

dawnkiller @ 2010-01-05T08:27:00

2010-01-05T14:27:42Z

Not dead, merely self-absorbed. If I appear to be somewhat sluggish and non-responsive, it would be because I'm deep in my cyclical Personal Project Mode, usually researching (BTW, I recommend "The Folklore of Fairy Tales" by Maclead Yearsley for anyone interested in that kind of thing). I enjoy being this jazzed about something. The only drawback is that I'm bad at switching gears even under normal circumstances, and it's really not happening right now. Impediment #2 is that I have acquired Final Fantasy XII, and guess what that's doing to the other half of my attention span.

9 and District 9 both have entertaining and informative commentaries, if you're into those. Doubt is a good movie, The Soloist less so.

One brother is still here. His degree is in classical composition, and apparently he's been dreaming of getting his hands on the family piano for months. It's one of three instruments he plays (saxophone and guitar being the others). His enthusiasm for the piano is rather endearing. It helps that he's pretty good.

Jury's still out on FFXII. Having just come off FFX I miss Tetsuya Nomura's designs, but more, I'm so far finding the storyline rather generic and derivative. Also, I'm only in the first fifth of the game and I've already been captured 3 times. It has some fun characters, such as a sky pirate who appears to be the lovechild of FFVI's Locke and Setzer, but sadly none of them are the protagonist. The change away from random encounters is rather nice, but the fact you can generate aggro and attract other monsters while fighting the first group has caused me to die more often than I ever have in a FF game. On the other hand, Chaining and the Loot system are weirdly rewarding.

And now it's time to go to work. In 4 degree weather. Great.

Annnnd I killed my computer

2009-12-09T03:39:50Z

Well, my work computer. Coworkers were having trouble with remote access, so on the advice of the IT guy I checked their connections (remote networking enabled, firewall set to provide exceptions), let the server install all pending updates, and restarted the Linksys router. Except after all that my own computer, which is the hub through which the printer is connected, is now exiled from the network. Winserver not responding, no Outlook connection, no synchronization, no printer (even though it reads as Ready in Printers and Faxes), no internet. Weirdly, my boss' computer seems fine, at least insofar as the internet was working for him. Of course, I noticed his desktop is where the Linksys icon lives, leading me to believe his machine is the original host. I still have no idea whether I succeeded in enabling remote access. I doubt it.

So yeah. Tomorrow I'll probably be at work sans internet, trying to figure out what the fuck happened. Since it was the server and router that were screwed with, I'm guessing the problem lies there. It would be awesome if I could just call the IT guy, but he's not on-site and the next time he gets called it has to be when the most hated coworker is around so he can get printing and other privilages enabled on his third laptop.

Tomorrow will suck.

dawnkiller @ 2009-12-08T10:23:00

2009-12-08T16:26:28Z

Ideas are irritatingly abundant right now. I think I've been working on something like 4 pieces at once. None of them are fully-formed enough to let me just go from start to finish, naturally. Last night a damn labyrinth idea crawled into my brain and is now attempting to redecorate.

I'm not certain, but I'm fairly sure Saturday's dream had me in Silent Hill. Never having played the game, I find this odd.

I disapprove of the weather. It's freezing rain today. Anyone who's ever ended up with their hair frozen into chunks by such, raise their hand.

Last night saw the creation of a truly ghetto sundae: I chopped up a banana, some cherries, and an icecream bar. We were out of regular icecream. It was awesome.

***Angry Biracial Rantings***

Apparently some Italian-American Services group is protesting this new MTV reality show called Jersey Shore for defamatory depiction of Italians. From what I've heard the cast are a bunch of idiots, so I can see how people (including advertisers) would be displeased. However, problem: How effective is an argument against a network for perpetuating stereotypes when the people in question aren't actors in a poorly-written sitcom, but real people who happen to be Italians and actually act like that?

You can question the casting staff's choice of focus (and frankly I do, since casting certainly limits the scope of the example people have -- this is not an argument), but this is also essential television programming. You pick the most dysfunctional/hilarious representatives of any one group to get the highest ratings; it's not racist, but rather the far more insulting implication that viewers want the lowest common denominatorr. I haven't heard any special interest groups going after shows like The Real Housewives of Orange County for being demeaning to upper-class women, or The Hills for painting children of the rich in a vapid and shallow light. Rich, largely white people are "okay" to exploit and laugh at, but once you hit the foibles of any other social group it's off-limits. I am neither rich nor white, and I still find this hypocritical.

Look. Be all politically-correct, or don't bother. It is a sad fact that any group, ethnic, cultural, religious, whatever, is going to have actual members that embody the worst stereotypes. Chris Rock did an entire routine about black people vs. niggers years ago. You can sub in white people vs. crackers, or Christians vs. Westboro Baptist Church, who are to Christianity as a plastic office plant is to a functioning ecosystem. I don't like the perpetuation of stereotypes. I'm definitely not saying MTV is classy for aiming for the lowest common denominator. The point is that if we're striving for equality, our reception and response to these stereotypes should be truly equal. Not "It's okay to make fun of the majority because they're the majority, and come from a position of strength" -- not for the sake of the majority, since there are undeniable privilages there, but because codifying a double standard undermines the very spirit of equal treatment. The principle of acceptable targets dehumanizes the majority just as much as other stereotypes dehumanize the minority, and no progress comes from that. Tearing someone else down doesn't change the fact you're still standing in the same place.

***End Angry Biracial Rantings***

Friday I make a bid to see my friend in the narrow window between her final exam and her leaving for . . . somewhere. She'll be back, but I'd like to get in one last jab about law school before 2010. And of course, she's a cat-owner, so I felt oblidged to link her to this Cracked article, which helpfully explains why I prefer dogs.

dawnkiller @ 2009-12-03T09:11:00

2009-12-03T15:14:21Z

The company finally closed a deal, and a big one -- hopefully another will be closing in two or three weeks. It's a relief. It's so nice not to have a money market account in negative numbers.

I appear to be climbing out of my latest Episode; I've been without a panic attack for two whole days now, so fingers crossed. The most frustrating part is knowing something's wrong, but not what. Since the anxiety is backing down again I'm assuming, by process of elimination, that it was work-related. In retrospect looking at the possibility of bankruptcy is a little stressful.

As of today I am 27. It is older than I have ever been before, and this will remain the case until tomorrow.

I reread Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde the other day, and . . . all right. Someone please explain to me the so-called homosexual "codes" in that book that reveal Stevenson meant Jekyll to be a closeted homosexual. I'm seriously not seeing it, but I am open to the possibility this is because I don't know Victorian culture. I have collected a very slim list of arguments for, against, and open to interpretation:

Against:

Utterson notes the doctor had a wild youth and first assumes Hyde to be Jekyll's bastard (indicating Jekyll had at least one encounter with a loose woman)
Never presented venally with anyone, male or female (emphasis is placed more on wanton cruelty)

For:

Life-long bachelor
Noted as having excellent taste in furnishings (although I don't think that was code back then)

Either Way:

Pleasures are "(to say the least) undignified" (so, sex)
Tended to sleep as Jekyll and wake as Hyde (insert joke about nocturnal emissions here)
Curb-stomped a young girl, belted a female match-seller, murdered an old man (ie. chose victims indiscriminate of gender)
Totality of Hyde's existence summed up as ". . . all disreputable: tales came out of the man's cruelty, at once so callous and violent; of his vile life, of his strange associates, of the hatred that seemed to have surrounded his career"

Ideas? Because "unspeakable evils" can mean pretty much anything in Victorian England.

dawnkiller @ 2009-11-22T22:04:00

2009-11-23T04:04:15Z

Judging from the headache and the near-constant urge to throw up, I'd say it's about time to do another one of my excedrin detoxes. Anxiety is high, capacity for concentration is low. I also had a rather compulsive Saturday night. That was fun. Be warned: This week I will be weird.

Strangely I got about two and a half pages of original stuff done yesterday. I suspect it was because it was stream of consciousness, since I seem to be sporadically choking on things I owe others. Now that I've run out of writing I've begun on pencils (only a week late). Better than nothing I suppose.

To my shame, I have ordered seasons 2 and 3 of the Venture Bros. Impulse buy. My conscience is somewhat salved by the fact it meant free shipping for my mother's Christmas gift, but still. In the meantime I am rereading The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. (I just like it.)

Took ibuprofen for my head. Usually I avoid it. For some reason, it knocks me out when taken in tandem with zoloft. Sleep would be nice.

dawnkiller @ 2009-11-16T22:50:00

2009-11-17T04:51:02Z

I feel tremendously messed up right now, and I haven't the slightest idea why. Maybe it's the decrease in work hour. Maybe it was my boss essentially telling me that if a coworker's deal doesn't pan out next month the company's probably going to file for bankrupcy. Or maybe it's just time for me to hit Crazy again.

The hypochondria has adopted the dog as its own. His chronic itching and livid red spots, caused by allergies of some sort, are freaking me out in conjunction with the blister on his stomach, now dark and crusted over. His ear infection is clearing up. He is still attentive, active, and in possession of an appetite. He is fine. Additionally, your liver is not failing. You would notice. Shut up, brain. Shut up shut up shut up.

I apologize if I get stalled on anyone. Clearly I am having brain problems. Perhaps the persimmons I bought today will help. They were expensive. If they suck I will be very unhappy.

Here is a collection of graffiti from Pompeii I found earlier today. It provided me with some enjoyment. I was also directed to this article about feminism and vampire romance literature, which is an interesting read even if you, like me, fight the instinctive urge to punch the television every time you see a trailer for the new Twilight movie.

And that, I guess, was Monday.

Ah, pointless updates.

2009-11-10T18:02:54Z

So due to my company's rather severe financial straits I've been cut to something like 24 hours a week, Friday having been eliminated. Hopefully the new guy will finally close a deal in December and I'll be back on, but for November we have to be cautious. If I were suicidal I'd stop by my old grooming salon and inquire about being seasonal help, since it's definitely coming up on that time of the year. On the other hand, I still remember what the Christmas rush was like the first time. So . . . yeah.

If I'm not working Fridays, perhaps I shall adopt a policy of using that day to write prose rather than screw around online, RP or do script-work (which has been the form most of my writing has taken lately). I do have something resembling a work ethic, but it only manifests in the presence of imminent deadline or reader expectation. I should try that "Write X number of words every day, whether or not they're utter crap" advice given to all writers; I would eventually like to produce marketable material, and lacking a real job on one day a week maybe I should reserve it for honing my skills.

Don't chase Season 3 of Red vs. Blue with World War Z. On Saturday I dreamed I'd traveled through time to ground zero of a zombie apocalypse, and was, predictably, unable to change the past. This would have been scarier had I not been critiquing the accuracy even within the dream itself, as when I passed a previously-seen Infectee now gone into full-blown Zombietude and couldn't help but wonder if that magnitude of decay was feasible in so short a time.

My scanner has not yet exploded. I find this surprising, since upon last use it was making a noise I can describe only as a tortured keening. I'm keeping my eye on it. It's about 10 years old, if not more, and that sounded like a plea for euthenasia.

On Sunday I ordered Season 1 of the Venture Brothers. The degree of affection with which I regard that show cannot possibly be healthy, but I'm charmed by its exploitation of superhero/boy adventurer cliches and realistic dialogue and reactions, particularly from the various henchmen. (It also made Johnny Quest a heroin addict, which, when you consider his early life, makes a lot of sense.)

As much as the concept failed to impress me, Titan Maximum is also amusing. It's made by the same folks as Robot Chicken and in a similar style. It can be summarized best as "Voltron . . . if the pilots had been selected from the cast of MTV's The Real World."

The graffiti in Left 4 Dead provided me with hours of entertainment. I've never played the game, but as an unobtrusive way of introducing new information to an environment and building atmosphere it's a great device. I plan to theft it in the near future. Aside from that, I appreciate how quickly the graffiti exchanges descend into what amount to post-apocalyptic Youtube Comments.

Brain Check: Still out of service

2009-10-30T19:10:53Z

So I'm kind of losing track of emails . . . still . . . or if I do reply they're invariably later than is my norm. I apologize, it's not personal. On top of background stress work has been a bitch this week, mostly because half the equipment in the office seems to be dying or malfunctioning simultaneously, and guess whose responsibility that is. Eventually I made the somewhat obvious connection between "exhaustion/homicidal rage" and "massive stress" and followed my shrink's advice to take my as-needed medication, and while it has produced the desired calm I am also stoned out of my mind.

My friends have conscripted me for Halloween, so I shall be largely absent Saturday. We are probably going to sit around their apartment and watch terrible movies. I look forward to a day of sloth.

And I just spent three minutes staring at the screen. The drive home is gonna be fun.

Brain out of service, apologies

2009-10-28T13:24:33Z

Sorry that I'm just sort of letting email pile up in my inbox right now. I'm having a week of "I will $#@*%ing stab you" at work, and the weather is exacerbating things due to instilling a wonderful pressure-headache. I also seem to be at this weird point of exhaustion where naps are nonetheless are out of the question and sleep isn't much more forthcoming. As a consequence I'm kind of swinging between nonresponsive, manic, and homicidal.

Why don't we live in a perfect world where we're allowed to sleep through the rest of October, that's all I can say . . .

It's all good

2009-10-18T22:55:20Z

Because some folks have been emailing me worried about the Nute situation: yes, I'm doing okay, I've just limited my conversation to private email. Having been spared a lot of direct contact and pretty thoroughly innoculated by my own experience with breakdowns, my reaction was considerably less severe than I suspect people feared. I wish everyone had been as lucky.

Other than that, I don't have any commentary to add. For those of you worried by Nute's absence -- whether we're talking about concern for him or paranoia about what he might be doing now that he's off the radar -- it's probably no secret by now that I'm keeping an eye on the situation, so don't worry about it.

Take care of yourselves, okay guys? For a certain portion of the game this was a pretty significant mindfuck, and there's nothing wrong with everyone cutting themselves some slack for a while.