Anxiety: 1. Me: 1?

Anxiety kicked my patootie on the first module exam I took back at the beginning of October. I got in the room, and essentially broke down. I had a panic attack. I took that exam while having a panic attack, without letting anyone know (because I'm just THAT smart). So I tried my best at my side table, and ran out of the room as soon as I was done. Well, I didn't too hot. I have to take the module over next year. What sucks is that it's not me, it's my brain. I knew the material - I studied! But my anxiety took over, and I let it. I let my disorder win one. Well, I didn't do that yesterday! Well, I think. So, here's the issue. We took that first exam back at the beginning of October, but they didn't give us our results until last Tuesday, less than a week before the NEXT exam! We had no time to apply more effort, be more engaged, study more, or change our method of studying. They stacked the cards against us. I did poorly on the first, and barely had time to process that fact before I had to take another exam. Oi.

So, the situation sucks, but I still won one. Part of me thinks it comes down to my grade. But, whether I did well or not, I managed to put off the panic attack. I managed to keep my emotions in check, NOT freak out, and remembered to breathe, and take my time. I was so incredibly proud of myself when I turned that exam in. I was still the second one done, but I knew that I tried my hardest. Now, if I can manage to control my anxiety when studying, things would be a lot easier. I might not have done too well, because I was so anxious when studying. But during the actual exam, I was ok. So, no matter how I did on this latest exam, this new module (starting today) will be taken one day at a time. I will breathe. I will engage myself. I will breathe some more. I will conquer. They can't kick me out that quickly.

must. not. fail.

This has not been a pleasant week by any stretch of the imagination. I enjoyed attending a drag show my friend was in and eating Chinese last night for dinner, but that's been about it. I found out I'll have to retake the first core course in grad school. I say "retake" because it makes me feel less like an idiot than the truth, that I FAILED. I failed a course. I've never done that before. I'm always the first test taker done, and almost always do quite well. I tend to retain information the first time. But, anxiety, that evil bitch, had a different plan for me. When I looked at that exam, I couldn't even read the first professor's questions, because I was so sick to my stomach. In the end I wrote some crap that was wrong. Later, looking at the exam (we got it back less than a week before the next exam), I could have answered them better, and probably passed, if only my anxiety had stayed away.
I had a meeting with one of the faculty, about "how the department could help me", which they really can't. I'm seeing a therapist, going on medication, taking up mindful meditation again, but these methods all take time. I'm not going to be much better by the next exam (Monday). At least I have a meeting with my therapist that morning, so as long as I can actually study this weekend, maybe she can help talk me off the ledge. If I fail again, I'm going to have to take a leave of absence. I can't risk failing another class; if I fail this next class, I don't see myself conquering that hump of personal doubt. And if I fail three? I'm out. Kicked out. Stuck finding a job I don't really want.
So, I'm going to make myself some art. It's going to have my goals on it. It's going to remind me why I come home miserable and drained. Why I'm putting myself through this difficulty. Not just because I'm a stubborn pain in the patootie, but because I want to teach. I want to be the first in my family with a PhD. I want to be Dr. Ladydid. I want to encourage students-especially women, in higher education. I want to do research. And most of all? I DON"T want to be that one person who fails the first year. I want to be standing at the end, successful, proud, and independently thinking. So, with that said, I'm off to study!

verily, things move

I have three boxes left lurking in my halls. And way to many books lining my floors. But other than that, Half Pint and I are moved in! The neighbors are friendly (maybe a little hippie on one side of the street), the area's nice, there's a park down the street. Now I just need to stop by a bike shop or find a bike on my local freecycle community, chop off my hair to donate, and wrestle down my rotations. I've already spoken to two professors, and both are available and have space. One has funding at the moment, the other is working on it. Unfortunately, I have some choices to make. There are five people I'd like to rotate with, but only three rotation spots. Oi. Oh, and I still need a printer. Gar! And I just found out the school gyms and pools are all closed until the 31st. WAAAA! No working out for me....looks like I'll have to take it to the streets, Rocky style. ADRIAN!!!!!!!! :D

I BOUGHT A HOUSE!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm doing WHAT on Friday?

Found out today that I'm signing over my life on Friday...to buy my house. WEEEEEEEEEEE! It'd been a bit up in the air as to when closing would actually occur, but somehow I seem to have made it. Of course, since I wasn't sure of the date, I was procrastinating the packing. And now, I have tomorrow to pack. Oops. (ok ok, it's not really that bad. I finished all other rooms except my own, and most things are packed-it's just the odds and ends and getting stuff down to the garage.)
Nifty tip o' the night: before painting the walls in your newly acquired home, determine if the current paint is latex or oil. To do this, take a rather wet cotton ball (or tissue-something that can hold water) and bandaid/tape it to the wall. Come back in a little while. If the paint has bubbled, it's latex. If there's no movement, it's oil. Common science sense: water and oil do not mix....nor do they stick to each other on a wall.

MIA

Yeah, things have been a bit...uh...busy. I'm packing, I'm spending time with friends and visiting favorite places, I'm trying to get everything together for the house and the move and am about ready to explode. Ok, not actually blood and guts and gore explode, but, well, I want to hide. I had a great gender post floating in my head, but it seems to have run away. Hope to be back in the flow of writing soon. At the latest, two weeks.

I suck at packing

Oi. I've been trying - and only semi-succeeding - to pack up all the stuff I've managed to accumulate in my parent's house. It's not going too well. I think the house is out to get me. Or maybe I'm just procrastinating. Or maybe it's just fear. But I've gotten myself this far, so I might as well keep on truckin' along. I'm working my way through the basement right now; once that space is all boxed up, I'll only have my room to pack up. Yikes! I still haven't managed to buy a friggin' laundry basket. I can't decide if I want a tall one, a round one, or a rectangular one. I suck at small decisions. Life altering, major ones? Check. Small, insignificant ones? Suck. At least my dog's being productive. Half Pint is currently on alert for any deer that might try to jump through my second story bedroom windows to attack me. She's pretty awesome (and entertaining!!). Le sigh. She keeps me sane. :)

adventures with furniture

I'm a huge fan of do-it-yourself projects, and I greatly love myself some antiques. So what's better than a seven dollar antique dresser? Refinishing said dresser! Unless of course you manage to burn your hands with paint thinner even though you're wearing gloves. MMMMM. burnt flesh. Almost lost my skin...but seeing as I can type, I caught the cold, then "oh god the heat it burns!!!!!" chemical reaction between the paint thinner and my hands early enough. Go me! Now I just need to run to the store tomorrow to buy more gloves....I'm thinking heavy duty rubber ones for tomorrow....

experiment update 1

Experiment has now been ongoing for three days. Mood has been significantly improved since daily exercise and SAM-e was started. Now, those of your intimate with scientific hypotheses and experiment structure, may be concerned by my decision to include two independent variables. Generally a horrible idea, but I did structure the experiment this way on purpose. I feel unqualified to determine on my own if SAM-e is an effective means of alleviating symptoms of depression. I'm the guinea pig of the experiment, and it would be ethically wrong of me to report any results as though this was a real experiment with quantifiable data. This is more of a psychological experiment. Exercise is known to improve mood (at least during and shortly after the act), due to the increase in chemical hormones such as adrenaline and serotonin. SAM-e test results remain inconclusive. Early experiments showed potential, but I have been unable to identify any recent (last five to ten years) experiments that have reported on the effectiveness of SAM-e on various types of depression. At the very least, side effects are less common and much less severe than prescription anti-depressants. The least I will feel is the placebo effect, if I'm susceptible to it. The best case is I'll feel stable and improved in mood and emotions. So far, I'd say it's a win. Whether I'll continue as a long term solution has yet to be determined. First I'll need to analyze my qualitative data, when the four weeks is up.

Peer pressure.

Someone please remind me not to succumb to it. I had a friend/co-worker/partner-in-debauchery want to know what I was like on coffee (high levels of caffeine)...and now I'm seriously regretting it. weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

was my radio station telling the truth?

This morning on my way to work (at crack-o-dawn o'clock), my radio station told me that drinking coffee in the morning roughly half an hour before breakfast can suppress my appetite by 30% all day. I thought to myself, "wow! That's incredible! I wonder what silly disreputable source gave out that information?" So, while procrastinating (and waiting for screens to load), I've been trying to find scientific evidence to prove or disprove my radio station. I was unable to locate a study that produced the data my station reported, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. Anyway, here's what I did find (and if you have access, I suggest you read this article-it's kinda awesome).

In a test studying the effects of caffeine and stress on eating habits of rats, there was no major difference in weight between the control groups and experimental groups. However, eating habits were altered in food preference. The rats exposed to caffeine were less interested in salty or sweet foods than the control groups. So, you could extrapolate that if you are a salty or sweet snacker, the addition of coffee (and this is without the sugar and milk and creamer and extra shots of crap) could decrease your cravings. If you can then manage to find a healthy(er) snack option to provide mastication relief, weight loss might be observed. I suggest gum. Or carrots. Or celery. It's also important to remember that the test subjects were rats-it's not a guarantee that these results would be reproduced in humans.

So, was my radio station lying to me? Not necessarily. The verdict is still out on this one. The caffeine content in coffee may help suppress your appetite during the day. It may cause an increase in productivity (or ADD/ADHD-not exactly helpful); it may cause you to increase exercise/intensity (haven't tested that one out yet). But if you're receiving a caffeine fix from "improved" coffee beverages (think milk, sugar, Starbucks, etc.), you may be ingesting more calories than you would if you ate traditionally. In any case, I don't think a cup (or seven) will kill you. yet.

I'm my own Guinea Pig!

You should sing that title to the tune of, "I'm my own grandpa"-which may become a post on its own someday. :)

So today I've started a new experiment on myself. The depression has been really really bad the past few days. I've had change in appetite, sleep problems, mood changes, no motivation to get out of bed, and been antisocial to the extreme. Pretty much the gamut of crap I have experienced before. If this experiment fails, I will have to go back on medication. So here's the experiment. Until my "situational" issues are solved, I am going to be supplementing my diet with SAM-e and running every day to try and improve my mood. I started this test today. Right now I'm experiencing the placebo effect (too soon to really know) plus the added real benefit of endorphins from exercise. I plan to run this experiment for four weeks. If I feel worse, I will seek actual medical help, so don't fret!

where, oh where did my coping mechanisms go?

oh where oh where could they be? They seem to have suddenly abandoned me to leave me a blithering idiot. All these changes are frightening.

I got the loan application packet in the mail today, and signed away my life. However, I can't send the darn thing in until I manage to track down a whole bunch of paperwork that I may or may not have. I need pay stubs, bank statements, 401K records, scans of driver's license, passport/ss card, W-2's, insurance agent contact info, and money. eyeyeye! Yes, all these are do-able, but I'm freakin' out man!!! Oh, and they gave me three days to put it all together. Eek. I just want to crawl into a hole and hide right now. Ok, so maybe that's not what I want to do first. First I want to run my poor behind off in the dark until I'm too exhausted to cry. I think what's upsetting me most right now is that I'm not sure if I'm emotional because of the changes, or because of something more serious. I haven't gone over the deep end yet, which is a good sign. Maybe I have improved. Maybe there is a coping mechanism hiding in here somewhere. I just need to send a search party to find it...

The evolution of my wardrobe.

I've recently been thinking about the way I dress, and why I wear what I wear. I am indeed a fan of TLC's "what not to wear" (oh Clinton, be still my heart!), but for many years, merely watched, instead of taking action towards my own wardrobe. I'll give you an idea of what I'm talking about. In high school, one of the key features of my daily school outfit would be....flannel pants. You know, those ones you can also wear to bed? Yeah. I wouldn't wear them to bed, I'd just wear them to school. I would also often wear large t-shirts, or sweat shirts. I know, sexy, right? In college, I gave myself a new years resolution that I have stuck by ever since (thankfully!). I told myself that I would wear makeup every day. Not crazy amounts, but enough to keep at least the bags out from under my eyes, and make me look awake and alive. I'm cursed (or blessed?) with fair skin, and can look rather ill if I don't wear blush. Never good with self esteem, I hid behind things until that resolution was made. Over the past year or so, I've been slowly adding solid, nice items to my collection of clothing. I even accessorize on occasion! I've made the realization that when I try to look nice, I feel better about myself. I feel more confident-sexy even. And that, might be a problem when I start my PhD program.

I'm desperately hoping that I can maintain my current wardrobe without receiving criticism for it while in my PhD program. I noticed when there last that most people were very laid back in dress. Jeans and t-shirts seemed to rule the halls, both for students and professors. Seeing as I only own one pair of jeans (and I doubt they fit anymore-lost some weight) and few t-shirts, I don't think this code will work well for me. I'm hoping that my femininity can remain intact without people undermining my intelligence. It does seem that to be taken seriously in the work place (women, in science), we need to copy the "boy's" attire. And to that I will turn on my cute flats or wedges, square my shoulders, and click clack away.

Stuff's a moving!

On the happy front, I'm currently in negotiations for my first house. Woo! Both seller and buyer have signed the agreement, pending the home inspection, which I've just scheduled for Monday. I'm hoping hoping hoping that nothing major turns up, and that radon levels are low, pests are non-existent (har har), and that there's no expensive, time-consuming damage that I don't yet know about.

On the unhappy front, while driving home last night, I had a flash from the past. Possibly the worst issue I had (have?) with depression was day dreams-more like flashes though, because they'd only take a few seconds to play out. In short, I always died. And seeing as I was in a car last night, I had a visual of me purposefully flipping my car into the meridian. I'm not sure if I should blame my own stupidity for listening to a particular CD (bad memories attached, although I love the songs), or if it's a return of a symptom. Haven't had one of those in a while. Spooked me a bit. I'm ok now, but well, yeah. It's...scary when that happens.

Oh, and I'm finally getting around to a mini responsibility. I'm on a committee for planning an event (won't take place until 2010, thankfully!), and have been given the task of creating the logo and visual aids. I can't work on the aids yet, since we haven't even received the parts to build our own structures. So, I'm working on several logos right now for the group to pick from. I might post it when done.

Mental Illness, personal story take one

I'm on a roll today! Normally I don't have much to write about (or much time), but today seems to be different. The blogosphere seems to be quite active with discussions on Silence is the Enemy over at Sciencewomen, Academia and Me, and an older post I tracked down by Jo(e). I'm hoping to post a poem later today that I wrote (either new or old, not sure yet) that covers some of these topics. In the meantime, Dr. Isis has posted a letter reminding me of something I've been delaying writing about. So, in accordance with silence being the enemy (not just for violence, but mental illness), I've decided to start a few posts on the subject. All are personal experiences, either mine or from those close to me, and I feel that someone needs to voice them.

I've been battling depression since the 7th grade. Puberty happened, and something in my brain/psychological makeup clicked, making me think, "everyone's going to die. We're all just walking skeletons, delaying the inevitable decay." Not at all a positive thing to think. I inevitably found unhealthy ways of dealing with these excess and painful emotions and thoughts. Whenever anyone noticed signs, I'd lie about it. I fell, I got scratched by my cat, etc. etc. I didn't have a cat. I managed to at least express to my mother that I was unhappy, so she enrolled me in counseling. I had a bad experience with that first counselor, and ended up lying to get out of it after several months. I kept my problems and depression to myself for the next several years, other than the occasional friend or boyfriend who would discover them. My depression manifested itself in an extremely poor body image during my freshman year of high school, while the other symptoms remained. After a rather dangerous relationship my senior year of high school, I realized I was too self destructive, and went to see my guidance counselor. He at least, made me inform my mother that I was still having the same problems from five years previous. She never knew (and I don't think ever will) the extent to which I had problems, and just what they were. I grew up in a stable family, with a healthy relationship with her. I felt guilty for causing her pain when I was younger, and didn't want to involve her in what was really going on. I felt like she blamed both herself and me for my problems.

I jumped into college after that, settling in pretty well with my dorm, my difficult classes, and new relationships. Unfortunately, left to my own devices and a change in environment, my eating disorder re-emerged, manifesting in a different way though. It took me several months-towards the middle of the Spring semester-to realize just how bad things had gotten. I finally had the support I needed and the personal strength to want help (and realize that I actually needed it), and sought it out. I saw a therapist on campus during the remainder of that semester, eventually realizing that I needed more than talk therapy-I needed medication. I met with a psychiatrist, which was a daunting and terrifying thing. I felt as though everything I said was wrong. In the end though, I received proper treatment, with sleep being the only side effect (I suddenly needed more). I was ready to continue a happy life, but of course, life never works out the way we think it will. I fell into a deep spiral that Summer after freshman year. I was lucky to see the other side. Beginning of sophomore year caused some serious problems for me, as I was forced to deal with some rather painful emotions and experiences. The loss of my first love caused me to again hurt myself. And again, I count myself lucky to have been on antidepressants, or else the scars would have been much worse-both physical and emotional.

The remainder of my college experience went well after that point. I continued to take antidepressants, found some new friends, and learned some new skills. The completion of my college career and finding a first job, along with the loss of another possible future caused me to rethink some things. I never took any tests to determine if what I had was depression, or if was something else. My dosage was never tested. I was unsure if I could be on a lower dose, with the same positive effects. After careful consideration and discussion, I decided to see a therapist again on my own, as I worked to go off medication. It was a painful process, and incredibly scary. I talked a lot, and listened a lot. I had to rethink my personal history, and many of my demons came up. I had to learn to deal with them, instead of repressing them. I told quite a few people about what I was doing, and got a lot of different reactions. Some people were surprised to hear I was having problems. Others, who knew, were proud and supportive of me for doing something about it, and trying to improve my life. Others, including my lost future, thought it was the stupidest idea I'd ever come up with. At least it made it easier to move on. But I needed to know if I could function and be happy without medication for the rest of my life. I didn't want to be on something if I didn't have to be.

So, this Autumn will mark one year without antidepressants. I'm still alive, relatively happy, and doing ok. I haven't conquered all my problems, but I don't know if anyone ever does. If everything is solved and perfect, then what's the point of life? I would say I still battle with depression, but at least now, I win most of the time. Some things still trigger me; certain memories, songs; sometimes I just wake up sad. But there's a sense of accomplishment for me, knowing that I can handle life (most of the time), and I now have a lot more experiences that may be able to help others.

Besides lending an ear to someone with a mental illness, you can (granted, this isn't good for everyone!!) give them a hug. Not a pat on the back. A nice, long, "haven't seen you in a while and really missed you" hug. :) Go ahead. Find someone and give them a hug. It'll make their day. It'd at least make mine.

Things are coming together...sort of.

Yay. I just heard back from Loan Officer #2, who had wonderful news for me. I have my finances in order (please oh please may they stay this time), numbers have been crunched, and I can now buy a house! Also on the bright side, I might be able to go to University City a week earlier than expected, because some family plans might change. I'm hoping they do, since it was kind of killing me to wait a whole month to go back up house hunting. What if all the houses I had previously seen and considered were suddenly off the market? That would be slightly upsetting.

Also in the world of Bug, the rain continues to leak from the sky, making Half Pint very ornery. Ok, so maybe that's not the best description, but I happen to like that word. Anyway, she's discovered a penchant for "mouthing" people's legs. She'll run into you (on purpose) with her mouth open, so that her teeth run into your leg-particularly the back of your knee. I find it entertaining and think the whole thing's funny, although I do try to get her to stop with the other household members. She also seems to think I should give her one of my peanut butter cookies. I think not.

As for the mini world, I've been too preoccupied with the impending move and change in life to feel any creative juices flowing. I've had some inspiration since the trip, but haven't felt like acting on it. Ah well.

House Hunting, day one.

Oi. So, I just got back from my first trip out to my new city to hunt for houses. Note to self: drop attitude when people look at you funny for being young. Although I know I'm not a fifteen year old angsty teen, strangers might not know that. Because quite honestly, most people still don't realize my age. Someday this'll be a benefit. Until then, suck it up!!! Bring ear plugs if you're rooming with a known snorer.

Anyhoo, the drive out was nice, the drive back was nice. The houses all had potential-some more than others. Half Pint would have been happier with some of the yards than others, so I'm keeping that in mind. I'm also trying to figure out where Half Pint could stay during the day to NOT destroy everything in each house. One house I absolutely loved, has a great yard for the area, plenty of indoor places to keep her during the day, and more than enough space for me. That's though, the potential downfall. It just might be too much house. I would need more roommates for that piece of property, to keep the extra bills down (gas, electric, cable, etc.). The other place I liked had a very nice yard as well, but was further away from the University, and was a bit more inappropriately dated. It'd need some updating, but because the price was so low, making changes would not at all be a problem. Good house for two people (me, Half pint, roommate).

I made a list of positives and negatives for each property, to keep track of things. I'm also marking which negatives can be changed (new stove, new carpet, etc.). I'm hoping that the ones I really liked will still be on the market later this month when I get another chance to go out to the city. If they're not, I'll claim fate intervened. I'll try and focus on some places a little closer to the University on the next trip out. By then, finances should be perfected, and I'll have done more reading on mortgages, radon testing, and "how to determine if the hot water heater needs to be replaced". Woo!!!

recessions suck for graduate students

Arg. Ok, so I'm trying to buy a house, right? The government seems to disagree.

I've been looking at property in my new city, talking to loan officers, getting chummy with real estate agents, and managed to get myself a nice pre-qualification amount-not a lot of change for my current area of living, but enough that I have options in my soon-to-be new home town. I found a realtor I can at least stand (I think...), and even reserved a room in a hotel for this weekend, so I can hopefully find the right place for me and my dog, "Half Pint". Upon realizing that my qualification might not be valid in another state, I called up my loan officer acquaintance, to make sure everything was hunky dory. He said he was all fine and dandy for working in state XY. Yay! However, he then started asking some questions about my stipend at RTU (River Tam University), and said he'd, "call me back". Uh oh. Some time later, he did return my call, to let me know that his company (and most others) are no longer willing to represent individuals receiving stipends for income.

Riiiiight. So, I had to call him up, to find out that his quote was no longer valid? LOVELY! This just made my evening. Here I am all ready to go up to RTU city to check out my possible homes, only to discover I couldn't actually sign any papers myself. Arg indeed.

So, I had a nice sit down with parents, asking (ok, maybe begging) if they'd co-sign with me, ensuring them that they'd never have to spend a dime. I'd actually rather get a second job working at nights than hit them up for money. Not that they wouldn't help me out, but I really prefer being able to support myself, and know that what I have is all mine!!!!! Muahahahahaha! So, maybe it's a bit less mad scientist crazy and more "I might have a bit too much pride to ask for money".

So, anywhoo, I no longer have my finances in order, but I'm still heading up to RTU city hoping to find something. I guess now I just have to hope that the loan officer and my father manage to get everything settled by the end of today... I hate not having any control over this stuff. ARG!!!!!!!!