I can't, I can't!

I'm not at work today. I'm not picking up Pau's fantastic wrappingness, I'm not serving customers, I'm not filling box cards.

I can't.

And my parents, and Janice, don't believe this is real. I know it's frustrating to have calls coming about me saying I can't work, usually with less than 24h notice. Or even 1h notice. But this is the face of my illness. This is the compromise you make by hiring me, someone who is dedicated even with a job I hate, who will keep on answering, "Are you charging Canadian or American prices?" without swearing at customers, who will spend her break working because there's only one girl on the floor and it's busy.

I know, I know I shouldn't say this, but I wish this had been an illness that people could see, or measure. Something that didn't come with stigma attached.

Discharged - I'm Back

Update later. I have to find my bag and stuff...

Five Days Later:
I know I pretty open about talking about all this stuff, but this time, I'll keep it to myself. I painted my nails bright pink to match my raspberry hat. I call them Power Nails, because they're shocking and loud and vibrant. All things that hurt my eyes and my ears when I'm on this stupid med. I did find my bag by the way, everything still complete, sharps still on it. I'm going to collapse onto my bed now.

On Pause

I've reached another place in my life where what I want to write about is much too personal to post on the Internet, of all places. So I'll be taking a break from updating this blog, at least until things work out or end.

i want a baby

Please save your breath. I know I earn LESS than what I need to support myself, let alone a child. I know I'm seventeen, and I can't even commit to choir once a week!

I think I'd be a really good mother. I think I would love my baby more than anything or anyone in the world, but I also think...that when the days get shorter or I just- I just crash, I would never leave my bed. I would cry and cry and I would probably...not be a very good mother.

I suppose I should say good-bye.

Holding a Job...

...is something I have serious trouble with. I like working! As much as I hate that I have to, I like that sometimes, people are happy when I'm helping them. Even just helping them find the right card, I dunno. That's a nice feeling. But it's so tough! I had a panic attack at work today. What if I'm alone? What if I'm working and whoever is with me is on break? I can do that! I can work a pre-Christmas shift, by myself, cash, floor, card cleaning. But sometimes, it's hard enough to wake up in the morning. I need to be able to keep working. I need so much more then that, but right now, I need to be able to work. And I hate myself for not able able to.

My Confession. I'm a Lesbian Gang Member.

Dammit O'Reilly, you caught me. I'm secretly part of the TLTO, (that's Toronto Lesbians Taking Over) and I'm working hard to rack up my Dyke-Points, so I can get myself a toaster!!! Honestly, I'd prefer a microwave, but you have to convert 50 girls to lesbianism, and I don't work with the gang enough to get that!



I haven't been going to the hospital for the past three years, I've taken the "tunnel" to our underground lair, where we plan out lesbian gang stuff and have lesbian sex.

Bill O'Reilly - lesbian cutest couple
Uploaded by worldhappiness

They're part of the gang. And I didn't get my job back at Carlton, I just got a promotion in that gang and I needed more time to go into Straightville, (that's everywhere outside of Church and Wellesley) and recruit. Actually, they're not 17. They're 37 and 49 respectively, and they recruited me. They sponsored me into the group, (they acted as my Sapphic Sisters.) I was their microwave girl. Dammit, now we have to go revise our safety plans. O'Reilly, you've really got us going.

(*laughs hysterically)

Philosophy and Alberto Knox - written 11/01/07

Sophie's World. Alberto leaves Sophie a letter and asks..."Are you a child who has not yet become world-weary?"
Unit 3 HZT4U1. The print before me reads, "Give your response."

I thought at first, that I could simply answer, "Yes/No." And then as I thought more about it I started to remember....

I know that I am only seventeen and have so much more to experience, but I think I am tired of the world. Five years ago I had so much less to think and worry about- not that I didn’t have any problems, but just that they were so...average! (Here I must say that although my issues were the same as every other kid in my class, that didn’t make it any easier.) The next year I hit depression, started self-injuring, and attempted suicide. Throughout high school, I’ve come to see so many more unpleasant parts of the world. Corruption! The disintegration of my family, the abuse of my friends, the intolerance of the church, the stigma of mental illness, how could I not be tired of this!? I am so much more familiar with Centenary Hospital, how to see a friend in a locked ward, how to evade being hospitalized, hatred, and loneliness than I ever wanted to be. I have watched my friends...no. There are good things to this world, sure, but I’m rather tired of the bad things.

Double Post - Standing on my Own

The gang in our house, surrounded by burning lava.

The retreat was great fun. Once we got away from that room and outside, it was amazing. Rock climbing? Sure! What fear of heights? Low ropes? Awesome! What horrible balance? It felt so amazing to be holding each other up, (often literally) and working together. Which sounds like a terrible cliché , but it's really quite true. We were a TEAM! And damn, we're really good at posing for group pictures now.

The bonfire was so...together-ness. I sang and told a horrible story that I interjected with Filipino history and my own theories on why there are so many of us. (Which includes hormones, no condoms, and Catholicism.) Still, it felt so good to bring together all these people I was intimidated by/not close to/never seen before.

But, [*insert ominous music here] we had a mass the next day. I've been sitting out on masses and liturgies for a while now, and I asked Candiotto if I could continue to do so. He said it was okay by him, but that there were five other teachers to worry about. Point taken.

So I sat my chair out at the back of the room and proceeded to write in my journal. Other teachers looked at me oddly...but I wasn't bothering anyone! And I was sitting at the back...so I continued hoping no one would approach me. But of course, Ireland did. I don't want to recount the whole story, but basically...she kept asking me why I couldn't just listen, even though I made it clear that my reasons were personal. I know I received zero training at Griffin, (except like, CPI stuff) but even I know that when someone tells you that what you're asking is private, you stopped. People will well developed social skills know that. Ahem. Anyways, eventually she backed off, and I was angry for a bit. Not that she asked, I had actually expected more teachers to challenge me, but that she crossed my boundaries. (Elijah, if you ever read this, know that I use that word with the utmost resignation.) But by the time I got to the 'lorspital, I was pretty proud of myself! I stood up for my beliefs, and I did it quietly and without being offensive. I feel good about that.

*I would suggest Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, 1st Movement. And then listen to the 3rd movement because it's that fantastic. And then listen to Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto #3, 3rd movement. Hey, that's a note for Bas too, Marjolein.

|--------------------------------

Birds eye view of my cousins wedding reception.

I didn't want to use a picture of my immediate family, (mom-dad-brother-lolo-lola-titojoe-tina-bunny-puppy-brownie) because that's just a little too direct. I finally told my dad how angry and sad I was that they abandoned me after I was diagnosed. The rest was pretty much an elaboration of that. I know it must have hurt him terrible to hear that...but it hurt terribly to know that I was doing all that alone. It still hurts. I concluded by saying that I didn't want my parents involved in my mental health anymore. No more intruding on my sessions against my wishes, no more awkward questions about how things are doing, no more "helpful advice." I'd like very much to stop hearing them say, "you just have to fight it! That's what I did!"

You fought nothing like this. Your battles were completely different from mine, they were difficult and valid but completely different.

I am glad for my Lolo and Lola. If I didn't have them...I'd be pretty alone in my family. I didn't expect them to understand so fully, to accept and support me...I didn't expect them to just shrug when they realized I'm gay...it just wasn't synonymous with the feelings of their time. And yet...they love me anyways. They never stopped supporting me when I became taboo.

Didn't they know?

I'm still looking for a picture of myself in grade 8 or 9 for the retreat tomorrow. In doing so, I found a lot of pictures from when I was younger.

There I am! Mortified and unable to fake a smile at my 5th birthday in JK, because I was so terrified of all the attention.
There I am! At my 7th birthday party clutching Barney close while I tried not to cry. Oh...maybe the next one will be better.
There I am! At Petticoat Creek...sitting on the grass because my cousins wouldn't let me sit on the blanket. Huh.
There I am! In Florida, staring up at my brother and cousin who are waving from the balcony they wouldn't let me go near.
There...at my 8th birthday party completely miserable because my cousins were ignoring me.
And there...at my brother's graduation, attempting to smile for the camera but really just wanting to be in that big Cousins photo that no one would let me into.
There...in late in grade 8, smiling at waving at the camera Nigel was wielding. I remember that well because I was trying very hard to smile and to keep my sleeve up over my wrist.

I know that I was the cute baby for a bit, but then I became the annoying kid to my teenage cousins. I recognize that as they were my teenage cousins, they were only able to think of things in relation to themselves, as well as being deeply invested in being the popular kids. But...honestly...didn't ANY of them think about how that made me feel?

Did any of them realize that when I was grade 4, (I was nine) I promised myself that once I was in high school I would sever any ties with the cousins? I planned to go out with my friends, or even just pretend that I needed to study. The arrival of my nieces and nephews changed that, but at the time I was simply waiting until I was free of my obligation to the family.

Did anybody think that the first time I thought about killing myself was when I was eight years old, and deathly lonely? In one of my old diaries it even lists methods and what I thought of them.

I HATED them! I hated my cousins so much that I would shake with anger when I thought about them. I cried so many times, blaming myself for having been born too late. When I was looking at those photos, I wished I could do that to them somehow. But I know! I know how hard it is to be ignored! I know the fear and the anxiety and the sadness and the loneliness that make you so desperate that you will try to take your own life! I'll be honest, I've had a lot of experience that maybe, my cousins didn't have. My own diagnosis and treatment, my friends, even my job during this summer all have changed me. If I were to treat my nieces and nephews, (having about the same age difference as my cousins and I) like I had been treated, I know it would hurt. Anyways, I can't do that, they're mine! They're precious and I love them and I'll be on the lookout for them, always. I'll teach them to stand-up to bullies, to tell fireants from the ones you can play with, to treat other kids well even though they won't share, and that if they feel alone, I'll be there for them.

All in all, I'm quite glad that's in the past. Even with more than a decade having passed since I started feeling like an outcast, I still remember clearly how awful I felt. I still feel awful, but at least now I have great friends, and (gosh this is so counsellor-y) a solid support system. I had great friends then too, but I wasn't ready to tell them shit like that. I almost love my cousins now. I've grown up a lot, and so have they. Just because I'm the same age they were and I don't act like my little cousins are pieces of shit doesn't....(*breathe) I almost love my cousins now. Almost. Hey, at least I'm in the picture now.

PS: I'll be gone tomorrow, at the retreat hopefully. I'm shaking for quite a different reason now...I don't really want to be at that retreat as I am. And once I'm there...I can't just go home to my bed and sleep it off, nor can I just leave and find someone who can help me. I did pay $40 for it...and the bus seating and rooms will get messed up. I will try to be brave enough to go. Maybe while I'm there my body will finally acclimatize to the new med? Or maybe being out there is what I need. Gosh, I'm scared.
PPS: Marjolein, are you there?

AD se's & Marjolein

Most of you know, (since pretty much only five people read this blog) that I'm switching meds right now. I've been on citalopram, escitalopram, and now I'm going on sertraline. (I'm using the umm...confusing names, because the name a medication is marketed under differs by countries. For example, escitalopram is Cipralex in Canada, and Lexapro in the US.) Whenever I was switching from other meds I'd get like...dry mouth. And since last November I've been really, really sleepy. But now! Now! My God! I slept 26 hours on Monday. My legs feel shaky...I'm afraid to go into stores again...still having panic attacks a lot...everything is TOO LOUD...and I'm so goddamn sad.

And my parents don't realize that... they still think I'm just sleeping through the day because I'm lazy or stayed up too late at night. I missed a lot of school this week, and believe me, I'd RATHER be at school! I guess because all the other times I switched meds, they were involved with that. When I started on the citalopram, they even came up to the clinic. With the escitalopram I had to go to the other clinic, and the rescheduled my appointment once so they knew about that...but this time, I went to...nevermind. I went to my doctor, then my family doctor, then the lab for blood tests and an ECG, then back to my doctor, then to the pharmacy where my mom got mad because it took so long to fill the prescription. Yea, and that's totally my fault.

So...I'm feeling pretty miserable. And then there's the Gr12 Retreat on Mon-Tues, and I want to get that experience but not now! Not while I'm...feeling like this...anyways, I'm not really into the whole forced group prayer thing. Especially when it's Catholic.

---

Marjolein! Where have you BEEN!? Your blog is gone, and I lost all my favourites when I switched computers, and I missed you! I'm watching Imagine Me & You on YouTube and then I shall watch Spider Lilies and both I think you might...."appreciate." (I'm giggling in my head.) Well, do keep messaging me! I long for our old companionship.

The Best of "Overheard"

I found these great sites with stuff people overhear. Here are some of my favourites....


Office girl in stall: Fuck this! Fuck you, uterus! I'll kick your ass!

Phone room worker to respondent: Hi, I'm calling from XYZ Research*, and we're doing a survey on Canadian politics. May I speak with a male who's 18 or older? ... Well, are you a male? A male. A male is a man... Do you have a penis? A penis? It's the male genitalia... Great. First, what province do you live in?


Coworker: Hey, how was your weekend?
Intern: Great! It's stopped itching and-- [Coworker walks away.]


Sales guy to another: Hey, have you ever tried that green fairy stuff? You know, abstinence?

Employee on phone: G as in 'Jesus.'

CSR: I always put '25' when it's supposed to be '52.' I must be anorexic.

Librarian: Your card is locked because there appears to be ketchup or chocolate milk all over this book you returned. You have to pay for a replacement.
Patron: It's vomit. I don't do chocolate milk.
Librarian: You still have to pay.

Wailing lady peon: Nooo! I have three boobs!

Office girl #1: Is it raining out?
Office girl #2: No way, it's sunny! Unless it a sun shower.
Office girl #1: A sun shower is not physically possible.
Office girl #2: Ummm, you've never seen it rain while the sun's out?
Office girl #1: Oh, I thought you meant literally, like giant balls of fire falling from the sky...

Weird coworker: I had a nightmare, too! I was standing in a pool eating taquitos, except they were filled with cream cheese and fruit!

Intern: My uterus is dry-heaving.
Supervisor: Wow.

Female phlebotomist to male patient: I hope this is a size 25 needle. [Sticks him] Oh, no! This is a size 22 needle -- it's too small. Blood is rushing into the vein, see? It's blowing up. I'm blowing you! ... Oh my god, I don't mean that!

Ancient lesbian waitress: You ever tried to buy dental dams at three A.M. in the Bible belt?
Wide-eyed teen bus boy: Uh... I have sooo many questions about what you just said...

CEO: We don't want to get sued because someone has a ridiculously large head.

Manager: Your boyfriend looks like a terrorist.
Peon, farting: My butthole is the terrorist in this office.

Worker bee: Oh my god! I'm so excited, I'm gonna pee on the carpet! I got the e-mail about that 11-thousand-dollar deal! [Stands up up and lifts leg] Psss... Psss... Look at me! I'm the cat! I'm peeing on the carpet!

Shocked security guard: You gave it to me?! You gave me the cooties!


Check it out for yourself!
http://www.overheardeverywhere.com/

The Immune System of a Three-Year-Old

I got it. I was half sitting-lying on the couch, trying to get into a comfortable position without getting my nose all stuffed up again, when I realized I'm acting a lot like Nayah when I saw her last week. And I saw her at Dr. Moss/Mark's office, and she had a fever and everything....

I caught this sickness from my three-year-old niece. Is this the level my immune system is at??? I've been sick almost constantly for two years, but I've never caught an illness from my babies. I have a 14 year advantage on building up my immune system and Christ, instead of her catching it from me it's vice versa. Now I'm going to attempt to lie down. God!

Kat's Translation of Bebot - Version 2

Original

Kat’s Mangled Translation

Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Ikaw ang aking Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Ikaw ang aking Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Ikaw ay Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! Hoy pare, pakinggan n’yo ako Heto na ang tunay na Pilipino Galing sa baryo - Sapang Bato Pumunta ng L.A. - nagtrabaho Para makatulong sa Nanay Dahil sa hirap ng buhay Pero masaya pa rin ang kulay Pag kumain - nagkakamay ‘yung kanin - *chicken adobo ‘yung balut - binibenta sa kanto Tagay mo na nga ang baso Pare ko, inuman na tayo Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Ikaw ang aking Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Ikaw ang aking Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Ikaw ay Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! Masdan mo ang magagandang dalaga Nakakagigil ang beauty mo talaga Lambing na hindi nakakasawa Ikaw lang and gustong makasama ‘yung bahay o kubo Pag-ibig mo ay tutoo Puso ko’y laging kumikibo Wala kang katulad sa mundo Pinoy ka - sigaw na - sige Kung maganda ka - sigaw na - sige Kung buhay mo’y mahalaga - sige Salamat sa ‘yong suporta Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! ldklfmlkjtkg,mtyhuyu Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Ikaw ang aking Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Bebot bebot bet Ikaw ay Pinoy ka - sigaw na - sige Kung maganda ka - sigaw na - sige Kung buhay mo’y mahalaga - sige Salamat sa ‘yong suporta - sige Pinoy ka - sigaw na - sige Kung maganda ka - sigaw na - sige Kung buhay mo’y mahalaga - sige Salamat sa ‘yong suporta Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! La la la la la la la . . . . la la lo . . . . La la la la la la la lo . . .

Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- You’re something something... Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- You’re something something... Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- You are- Filipino! Filipino! Filipino! Filipino! Hey Father, what are you eating? This is the something of Pilipino. From the village – something something. I went to LA – to work. To help my mom. It was hard to do well. Because masaya pa rin ang kulay To eat – nagkakamay. My food – marinated chicken My duck fetus – bought on the corner Tagay mo na nga ang baso Father you, I’m working. Filipino! Filipino! Filipino! Filipino! Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- You’re something something... Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- You’re something something... Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- You are- Filipino! Filipino! Filipino! Filipino! I want pretty girls. The ones who are really beautiful. I don’t want a wife. Do you want me to be with you? My work o kubo Water of mine tutoo Puso ko’y lagging kumikibo None kang katulad sa mundo You’re Filipino – go now – go If you’re pretty – go now – go If you work nice – go Thanks for your support. Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! ldklfmlkjtkg,mtyhuyu Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- You’re something something... Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- Girl girl gi- You are- You’re Filipino – go now – go If you’re pretty – go now – go If you work nice – go Thanks for your support. You’re Filipino – go now – go If you’re pretty – go now – go If you work nice – go Thanks for your support. Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! - Filipino! La la la la la la la . . . . la la lo . . . . La la la la la la la lo . . . .

Notes:
"Bebot" really translates to something more like "sexy girl" or "hot girl," but that would be really confusing.

I have no idea what he's saying half the time so most of it is just made up shit.

In Generation Two, the mom is really really loud. And she keeps calling Taboo Tabo- a small plastic bucket used to hold water so you can wash yourself after you pee. Seriously. I`m not joking about that.

Tired, Again

I should mention first that I cry quite rarely when I'm have a panic attack, and mostly because its' so goddamn frustrating to have them.

I went to see my family doctor today, and then I went to get my blood test and ECG. He said he wanted to see me next week, and well...*sigh* My first thought was, "Like I don't see enough doctors anyways."

But my feelings change on that often. Sometimes I wish I could see someone more often, when I'm having a really bad time of it. Sometimes I wish I would see them less. Always, I know that I still need them. I know that so many people don't have all the help that I do, and that they may need it more.

Let's be honest though, eventually, you get tired of doctors. Doctors with their Alphabits cereal letters after their names - MD, Ph.D, MSW, CCFP, MC, all that stuff. As much as I like that I get out of school, I'd like to be able to stay at school everyday for an entire week. (Even though we all know I'd just skip a day to work from home.) Just having that option would be nice.

Please that don't read this and think that I'm ungrateful for all the help that I've got, I just want to have a normal life once in a while! I met Dr. G and now know that I want to be like her when I get older, but because I've had to have met her I know that's a longshot. Okay, let me try to rephrase that, it didn't make any sense.

I met Dr. G because of my mental health issues. After meeting her, I knew that I wanted to like her when I grew up. But because of these same issues, I know that being a doctor is so...nearly impossible. But if I never had to meet her, if I never had these issues, that would still be possible for me. I used to be a straight A student, I actually processed what I was reading the first few times around, I studied hard but had a life too, I had so much!!! I really, really want that back.

I really should stop, I'm starting to feel the panic coming. But god! I want that so badly! I want to be a doctor, but I also just want my academic life to go back to how it used to be. I never dreamed that I would be taking a fifth year, or failing courses, or struggling so damn much when I started high school. Everyone's going to university next year! All my friends except Christine are leaving! Valerie is heading for life sci, and hopefully medical school. Michelle is headed somewhere, and hopefully that island in that country that was on that show to dig up those things! Vanessa is heading for something that requires measuring, and hopefully something else that requires measuring! Everyone is going on, reachin' for their dreams, and they all have a chance for it. Dr. Val isn't such a stretch in my imagination. Dr. Kat, as much as I joke about her, she's as fictional as my alter-ego's get.

Now I'm going to do my evening yoga, and ask my dad if I can borrow his Metropass while I go hunt for a copy of the September 25th Advocate tomorrow. OH MY GOD!!! THE NEW ISSUE IS OUT!! I swear, if I can't find it tomorrow, I'm going to buy a back issue no matter how much it costs. (*Thinks.) I swear, if I can't find the September issue tomorrow, I'm going to buy a back issue if it costs me less than what's remaining in my bank account after I buy my Curve subscription. Good night.

Inside a Panic Attack

I want to write this down before I fall asleep. I was really hesitant to post this, originally I was typing in a word document to save so I could remember. But I want you guys to know and recognize the signs of a panic attack, and start to get a feel for what it's like. I'm going to do point form for now, perhaps I'll come back to it later.

• Hyperventilating (quick, short breaths)
• Tingling in the mouth, hands, and toes. (as a result of hyperventilation.)
• Dizzyness (again, as a result of hyperventilation)
• Heart palpitations (heart beating fast)
• Sweating
  
• Choking (not actually choking, but gagging on something and getting the feeling you're choking)
• Shaking or trembling
• Crying

Those are what happens when I get panic attacks. Here are some other things to look out for:

• Smothering or shortness of breath sensations
• Chest pain or discomfort (this especially can make it feel like a heart attack)
• Nausea, bloating, or abdominal discomfort
• Disrealisation (feeling unreal or dreamy)
  
• Depersonalization (feeling outside of yourself or like you don't exist)
• Fear of losing control of going crazy
• Skin losing colour
• Hot/cold flashes (like menopause!)
• REALLY REALLY needing to pee or poo

Some of these things I used to experience, but ever since I learned to recognize that I was having a panic attack I also learned that I wouldn`t lose control or go crazy. That was nice to know. Depersonalization was something that happened consistently through grade 7,8 and 9. Every person and every attack is different- most times, I don`t cry.

OKAY! The number one thing not listed? PANIC! I also get frustrated. You may not feel there is a reason for you to be panicking, but you are. Too late! Sometimes it can appear out of nowhere. I've had panic attacks after sitting quietly, focused on my units. I`ll be write-write-writing and then suddenly there it is! Or maybe you can find a reason. Either way, you`re having a panic attack. Knowing what can trigger them is important, because then you can try to prevent them. (Note: not by avoiding your trigger, but by slowly practicing until it doesn't have as much of an effect on you.)

BREATHE DEEPLY AND SLOWLY. This can be so, so difficult when you're already hyperventilating. I tried this time, but it didn't work out for me. Another technique is to focus on an object and describe it in detail to yourself. They're both hard things to do, but they work when you can do it. If you're with someone having a panic attack, walk them through these exercises gently and slowly.

The Aftermath. I usually feel really tired after a panic attack, and just a little bit stupid and embarrassed. Although if it happens in a public place, like on the bus or at school I'll try my best to move on. I don't know if that's the best thing to do or not, but that's what I know for now.

I'm going to stop here. They weren't kidding about the drowsiness...I might come back to this later. If I'm not too lazy. See ya.

PS: I really meant to describe it, how it feels, but I'm tired now.

HPV Vaccine and The Lorspital

I was lucky today, I caught all my buses with just a little waiting. (43.190.133) Which was odd, because I got to the lorspital just in time to duck into the nice washroom and head up the elevator. The weekend of absolute horror is over, so I'm going to go back to not blogging really personal stuff.

Looks like several of the Catholic school boards are going to take a vote on allowing public health to go into the schools and provide Grade 8 girls with the HPV vaccine.

HPV is human papilloma virus. It can lead to cervical cancer.

"At the centre of the debate is the Conference of Catholic Bishops, which said in a statement that since HPV occurs only through sex, which is appropriate only through marriage, in theory the young girls would have no need for the vaccinations, though there is no issue with the vaccine itself." -City News

I see where they are coming from. (Don't I always?) But that's very ideal thinking. Come on, I go to Catholic school, and Catholic doctrine can be a fairly small reason for girls to resist becoming sexually active. So ideally, yes, grade 8 girls in Catholic schools would not be sexually active until they are married. However, we don't live in a perfect world. I think these girls should get the vaccine in school, because let's face it- how many girls will really go to a public clinic to get the vaccine? It's hard talking about sexual health, and I'd imagine that would be a major factor in how many girls will go out and get it themselves.

Edit: I forgot to mention this lady who suddenly started talking to me at Shoppers while I was waiting for my prescription to get filled. She was reading this article about Michael Jackson and started telling me about how Neverland is really a code for a secret place where he sends people he doesn't like so he "never has to see them again." And how he's not really MJ but a representative of another country- she won't say which, but I heard something really offensive about Muslims while I was trying to count stitches in my knitting. And how she figured it out after years of contemplating.

Stupid Questions and Vomit

My mom asked me this morning, “How long are you planning to be ‘sick’?”

Now I understand she’s going under the assumption that I’m still faking sick, but as I’m not that really pisses me off. I don’t PLAN to be sick. If I could, I’d plan to never be sick! Hello!!! I’d plan to never feel icky and especially, I’d plan to never ever be depressed.



On a grosser note, I just threw up. People always say you should feel better after you throw up, and I’m really hoping that’s the case. (Although I’m still feeling icky.) Hopefully I threw up whatever was making me sick. But I did realize yesterday night that what I was feeling after the snifflies and the sneezies went away is exactly the same as all the times I had low blood pressure. So I’m going to either talk to write out a note telling one of my parents that it feels like that, leave out how angry I am that they ignored it, and ask them to get me salty food. My family doctor said to eat salty food when my BP gets really low. Of course, my dad has high BP so we don’t have a lot of salty food just lying around the house. I`ll pay for it, just make this go away!!!

Phase Two: The Yelling

I’m really dizzy, which I love, because if I tell my parents I’m really dizzy they’ll start yelling at me about how I haven’t eaten. Which like the nausea, really helps. I was just about to go downstairs and get something to eat but I got really spinny on the stairs and I sat down, and then I came back here.

My prediction came true!!! Last night before I went to bed I thought, “If I wake up tomorrow and I still feel like shit, they’re going to say that I’m faking, because they’ve been ignoring me for the past five days and don’t know how I’ve been feeling.” Yep. So my mom started yelling about how I’m not sick, and how I’m lazy and I don’t do anything and I’m going to fail school and then she comes back in the room, and starts telling me how I can’t give up and shit in this fake soft voice. Then she started yelling again.

It’s getting really hard to type, I’m getting all sweaty and even more dizzy. I HOPE THEY BURN IN HELL. Or at least, I hope I get hit by a Mac truck tomorrow. My head is constantly aching, I get dizzy just switching windows on the computer, let alone turning around, I’m hot-than-cold-than-hot-than-cold, I’m nauseous, I’m tired, and that’s just the physical stuff. I tried acetaminophen, I tried serc, I forced food down my gullet, (which came back up my gullet and made me more dizzy, AGAIN) I really just want to hurt my parents.

I think them ignoring me was better than them yelling at me, because at least it was quiet. I’m going to try to get down the stairs again.

Heterosexual Justification

I couldn’t sleep. This weekend I’ve blogged more and with a lot more personal stuff than ever before, mostly because I’m finding it so difficult to stay on MSN and nearly impossible to talk out loud. Less painful things are starting to pop back into my head.

This debut thing. I always swore that if I was single on my debut I would have a friend escort me. All the debut’s I went to where the girl was just by herself seemed really...lonely. I know I’ve blogged before about the raging heterosexuality of the whole thing, but it’s pretty huge. I can’t back out, that’s for sure. After this weekend I know even now that I’m going to be like hell on earth. If my parents will ignore me for something small like they did, imagine them planning a gigantic wedding-esque party.

Again, I have already blogged about how horrible a debut would be for a girl with anxiety issues.

I will not have a male escort me at this debut. Would a straight girl let another girl escort her? But what would I do? I know I would ask a friend to escort me if I’m single, that’s a given. I know my friends are wonderful enough to do so. What really, really bugs me is the fact that I will have to justify it. And fight for it. I just...I really wonder, what is the point of introducing me to society if I’m not interested in the gender I’m being introduced to?

Now even after I make it clear I will not be escorted by a male, picture this.

My friends and family precede me into the ballroom. (God, I cannot believe how monstrous that sounds.) Anyways, then the MC pauses and says, “Now I present to society, Katherina Miranda Yerro, and her escort, Random-Female-Name-Here.” The crowd claps awkwardly. My friends cheer and clap with much more enthusiasm. People stare.

Ending A: I say nothing, and then the entire community mutters and spreads rumours about myself and my family, “Did she have to shove it in our faces?” “Don’t they have any tact?” “Fucking lesbo.”

Ending B: I say something, and the entire community mutters, albeit quietly. I bring their attention to the fact that should a straight girl be escorted by a man, no one would be muttering, “Did she have to shove her heterosexuality in our faces?”

As much as I loathe the idea of a debut, or rather the process before it, I do not want to be spending my coming-of-age, my Filipino bat mitzvah explaining, “God Hates Gays- or Maybe Just Angel Rapists and Gentiles” and attempting to put Leviticus and Gomorrah into context. It has potential to be a really nice night, in between the inevitable arguing and anger. Homophobia is not really something I had planned as part of it. Suggestions?

A Breakthrough!

Yes, my dad talked to me today! Actually he said, "get up! get up! you've been sleeping all day!" which is wonderful, because they`re omnipotent and know what I`ve been doing even though they were out until 4:30. And I love getting woken up so I replied, `No! I`m sleeping!` into the mattress. And my dad stormed out and said, `You know, you are getting to be too much.` then yelled down the stairs, `she said NO, again!`

Imagine that. God, I`m horrible.

So after that Bunny and I were talking and she was like, `Grampa finally talks to us and you totally screwed it up.` (Or rather, Gampa, fi`y taws to us an`yoo tohyee scewed it up.)

I should probably be more grateful. Yea. They've done so much for me since I was diagnosed. Like...ignoring the existence of a problem for the first, (hard) year. Oh, and then failing to make an appointment for six months the year after that. (That was before I was okay enough to talk on the phone.)

Yea, and then when I had that really really horrible month last February and they just kept getting angry at me. Oh! And then when I came out and they were okay, but then my mom told me that "I should start considering the rest of the family" and "stop pushing my sexuality on people." And when my brother asked me, "Why can you just be gay, why do you have to do all these gay things?" God, you know they're right. No one ever talks about their opposite-sex partners, or assumes hetrosexuality, so I really shouldn't talk about being gay at all. I should just never talk about this huge part of me, ever, because that's just pushing it on other people.

They were there for me through all the easy stuff. My family raised me and dealt with the terrible twos and me becoming a teenager but when it came to the things that really hurt, I got left to deal with it by myself. I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM. I`m going to go back to bed.

Incriments of Progress (to where?)

I've been getting the silent treatment for three days and it makes me so, so angry. I'm pretty sure I'm angry anyways, because really it just makes me cry.

I know I don't do anything! I know I barely move and I don't help out and I don't talk or do anything but sleep but what else can I do? I can't make my body or my brain do what I want and I'm so sad and so desperate and why can't they see that? I want them to be able to see that...or at least, believe it. I know they don't think it's real or anything but it's real to me! I don't know what else to do.

My Fucking Depressed-ness - written 09/14/07

Someone, please save me from this misery! My body tires after simply sitting up and it seems I cannot do anything but alternate sweating and shaking. I long to rip out this hair for it tortures me- it’s attraction to dirt and it’s unruly mess of strands that refuse to lie straight and bearable. There is nothing for me to do while even the daylight is too bright and watching television only causes my head to ache more- too many lights, too many pictures all moving so fast I’ll vomit if I look much longer.

Even eating, which has been my bane and my trouble is difficult! Just thinking of consuming more than a spoonful of soup is enough to, (again) send the meagre contents of up stomach up again. I can feel the hunger, somewhat detached but there and I long to eat, to venture downstairs and scrounge up a meal but even if my body didn’t revolt at the thought it wouldn’t be able to make the trip.

I want to move faster than a snail, oh, to be able to speak without tiring! Yet every painful move I’ve made is utterly useless in the eyes of my parents, for I do too little and I do it wrong. Don’t they see that even laying on my bed is tiresome and uncomfortable, even though I have never slept so long and so deeply in my life. They continue to yell and act sullenly at me but don’t they realize that I want nothing more than to stop being this way? The way they are acting hurts me as much as I try to deny that. All this slamming and silence is just fodder for this alternative part of myself to feed on.

And still my mind continues to pain me with its complete inability to function. On and on it rambles and sighs about my shortcomings and my faults, never ceasing or faltering. I can feel it, all through my body. My limbs seize and then lay limp and my torso feels as if it will burn through my skin. I have no future! I’ve ruined my past! My present is sheer miserable existence, with nothing to do but move lethargically from one bed to another! I try to resist it but my mind speaks the truth and I know I’ve failed at everything I ever tried to do, I’ve crushed any hope of the future I had dreamed of and now I am a waste of consciousness. (God, even the tiny bit of food I had today is clamouring to come back up.) I am desperate for anything to end this complete horror and I’ll get it! I’ll either be free from this or dead and I’m not sure which is the better for I know I have no life waiting for me but more misery and more vomiting and I hate it I hate it I hate it! WHO CURSED ME WITH THIS LIFE!?

PS: And someone please tell this hideous intruder to STOP ORDERING ME AROUND!!! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!! OUT!!!
PPS: I’m not joking about this! I may have written this in uptight language but I mean it! THIS IS TOO MUCH! THIS IS TOO PAINFUL AND TOO CONSTANT AND TOO HORRIBLE!!! MAKE IT STOP!!!!

My Fucking Depressed-ness

Someone, please save me from this misery! My body tires after simply sitting up and it seems I cannot do anything but alternate sweating and shaking. I long to rip out this hair for it tortures me- it’s attraction to dirt and it’s unruly mess of strands that refuse to lie straight and bearable. There is nothing for me to do while even the daylight is too bright and watching television only causes my head to ache more- too many lights, too many pictures all moving so fast I’ll vomit if I look much longer.

Even eating, which has been my bane and my trouble is difficult! Just thinking of consuming more than a spoonful of soup is enough to, (again) send the meagre contents of up stomach up again. I can feel the hunger, somewhat detached but there and I long to eat, to venture downstairs and scrounge up a meal but even if my body didn’t revolt at the thought it wouldn’t be able to make the trip.

I want to move faster than a snail, oh, to be able to speak without tiring! Yet every painful move I’ve made is utterly useless in the eyes of my parents, for I do too little and I do it wrong. Don’t they see that even laying on my bed is tiresome and uncomfortable, even though I have never slept so long and so deeply in my life. They continue to yell and act sullenly at me but don’t they realize that I want nothing more than to stop being this way? The way they are acting hurts me as much as I try to deny that. All this slamming and silence is just fodder for this alternative part of myself to feed on.

And still my mind continues to pain me with its complete inability to function. On and on it rambles and sighs about my shortcomings and my faults, never ceasing or faltering. I can feel it, all through my body. My limbs seize and then lay limp and my torso feels as if it will burn through my skin. I have no future! I’ve ruined my past! My present is sheer miserable existence, with nothing to do but move lethargically from one bed to another! I try to resist it but my mind speaks the truth and I know I’ve failed at everything I ever tried to do, I’ve crushed any hope of the future I had dreamed of and now I am a waste of consciousness. (God, even the tiny bit of food I had today is clamouring to come back up.) I am desperate for anything to end this complete horror and I’ll get it! I’ll either be free from this or dead and I’m not sure which is the better for I know I have no life waiting for me but more misery and more vomiting and I hate it I hate it I hate it! WHO CURSED ME WITH THIS LIFE!?

PS: And someone please tell this hideous intruder to STOP ORDERING ME AROUND!!! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!! OUT!!!
PPS: I’m not joking about this! I may have written this in uptight language but I mean it! THIS IS TOO MUCH! THIS IS TOO PAINFUL AND TOO CONSTANT AND TOO HORRIBLE!!! MAKE IT STOP!!!!

Pre-Post-Partum

Okay, I blogged last time about postpartum depression, but my biggest fear is actually...

INFERTILITY.

First of all, I'm a lesbian. I recognize that it would be pretty hard for me to get pregnant you know...without intending to. But I know should I get pregnant, I would keep the baby. I would probably consider open adoption, but I know deep in my heart I would never be able to give up this child.

I want to experience a pregnancy.

I want to have a child grow in my and to have my lover feel my rounded tummy and have trouble hugging me in bed and to have a baby.

I am so, so scared.

That Old Feeling

Dread.

I have been learning, (and trying) to stay in the moment. To stop worrying about what's going to happen in a week, month, year...but I really want to get this down.

I'm really, really scared of postpartum depression. And on a shorter time-line, winter. I'm really, really scared of winter.

See, you all know that I have always wanted to have kids. Even when I was in that I-want-to-be-a-nun phase I knew I wanted to have kids. With someone. (At that point, I didn't know what kind of someone I wanted to be with, I just knew it wasn't going to be a guy.) And even when I did know who I wanted to be with I knew we'd have children together, and I would carry the kid.

Then I knew that I would have to fight against the (main)stream, as well as have to find some way to get pregnant once I did, and once I found the love of my life.

And now I'm also scared to have the kid! I know there's a lot of fear in me, and a lot of fear that I've let go of. But I'm afraid to give birth to a child, a child I know I'll love so much that it'll hurt, that I'll want to hold and take care of and breast feed and be with and when that time comes around I'll be too depressed to do anything. What if I can't do it?

Same goes for the winter. It's grade 12 and I have to do well, but what if I go really really deep down again? I don't want to...it's just really really scary.

Hillary Clinton on Ellen

Of course y`all know that I LOOOVE to watch Ellen. Season Five of the Ellen Degeneres Show, (TEDS) opens up in New York, with Hillary Clinton up as the first guest. Watch the first video to see Ellen ask the Big Question on MY mind and hers.

Hillary Clinton on the Ellen Degeneres Show - Part 1
Uploaded by ellenhillaryvid

Queerty gets it right when it tells us that it`s great to see Ellen talking about queer issues. It`s been tough for Ellen after she came out- let`s take a quick tour of the past ten years.
1. Ellen Comes Out
2. Ellen`s sitcom character comes out with her
3. Ellen`s sitcom is stuck with a warning label on several episodes.
4. The sitcom is criticized for being too gay, and taken off the air.
5. Ellen disappears for a bit, re-emerging to pilot The Ellen Show, which never really got off the ground.
6. Ellen disappears again, but rumours that she`s going to do a talk show circulate.
7. The Ellen DeGeneres Show starts and continue to get rave reviews, but the gay community wonders, `Where`s gayEllen?"

So obviously it would be pretty difficult for our best girl to talk about being gay- first she`s too gay, then not gay enough, then too gay, then not gay enough, and finally in Season Four of TEDS her viewers saw more and more gay references.

In the fourth season Ellen talks to T.R. Knight about slurs on the set. Knight definitely respected Ellen as a pioneer for queer visibility, and sought out more guidance then she could offer while on camera.

Now Ellen comes out again, (those of us in the community know what an ongoing process coming out is) to Senator Clinton. Ellen expresses the need for same-sex couples to have the same rights as heterosexual couples. (Watch the saga of Kerry Weaver in ER to see this problem in action.) Watch the video and tell me what you think about it.

Why I love my Aminals.

There's a letter sized sign on my door, right next to the Positive Space one I printed off. It reads, "Welcome to Guyzeeland." We now have a population of 189, 190 including myself in our area. I explain our large family to people simply by telling them that I was a lonely child.

While this was true, I think it warrants a better explanation. Like how my brother stopped at sixty children and I stopped at...well, I haven't stopped yet. You see, we're a good family! We all love each other, and sometimes we argue, and sometimes the wait period for surgery grows and people get antsy, but all in all we're a wonderful family.

We can rely on each other. When I don't feel like talking to anyone I can just talk to them. And I don't even have to speak out loud, because we're all telepathically connected! Even though sometimes they don't get it, someone in the family will. And there's always someone to hug, when I don't want to hug a human.

And now, we'd really, really like to eat.

I am feeling anger.

There is an ugly clothes hamper in my room. I have several library books to return that are all different sizes. The vacuum is broken. I don't have curtains. THERE ARE MANY THINGS AROUND ME THAT ARE NOT PARALLEL.

I am going to try not to throw this ugly clothes hamper at a person. I am going to hold on to my library books until tomorrow morning. I will wait until the vacuum is fixed to make my nice vacuum lines. I will fix this makeshift curtain until I can purchase normal ones. I will keep writing even though I want to SCREAM and THROW and DESTROY everything in my room that is not clean and orderly.

I will try to relax without doing stupid things. I will try to relax...

She was Beautiful.

She took her own life, did you know that? They didn’t want anyone to know, so the answer always was, “a sudden loss.” Sudden. She was dying for years and no one noticed except me. I knew because she told me. Matter-of-a-factly one day she just looked me in the eye and told me that she was dying. At first I thought she had a disease or some kind of pre-teen ‘dying of a broken heart’ thing but it turns out she was serious. I realized that, after a point. I noticed from afar, (we were friends only in front of each other at the time) after she told me, all the pained looks she had on her face in between people. I guess no one else was looking.

“Why are you doing this?” I’d asked her once. School had just started for another year and we felt the breath of autumn on our backs, and she’d called to ask me if I wanted to touch its’ heart. I had no idea what she was saying until she translated that into, ‘want to go to the park?’

She turned to me, straggly pieces of hair stuck up in the wind. “I didn’t ask for this,” she whispered.

“Can’t you make it stop?” although I knew well enough that she couldn’t. I couldn’t either.

“I can’t stop it for either one of us.” She took a skip forward, her pale fingers dancing over the air and faced me, dead on. “I wish I could, you know that right?”

“I know. I’m not all stupid man/boy.”

“More like boy/man!” and she laughed, that laugh that haunts me because I can hear it now. I can tell.

So we kept going on like that. Moments of eloquence followed by a shallow struggle to pull out of the awkward moments we created. Or she did, I was always unnerved by the way she got straight to the point. No ambling.

She called herself, “less than ordinary.”

She prayed for fifteen years then noticed she didn’t think anyone was there.

She forced me to make promises, and I did the same to her.

She stared in the mirror and saw nothing.

I’m telling you the truth. It wasn’t a sudden death. It wasn’t quick, it wasn’t painless. She was my beautiful, my silent and I don’t know exactly when it happened. It must have been years ago. But to everyone else, it was two nights ago, at 2:47 in the morning and they all thought, “what a shame” when they saw her lying there. I’m ashamed.

-written march, 2006.

Water

I know I've blogged about this before... probably a few times. My brother is having a party downstairs and I know that's kind of a trigger for me, so I was glad when my dad told me to ask a few people to come over too. No one ended up coming or calling or anything, so Bunny and I watched a few movies and ate carrots. Well, she ate her Everlasting Carrot and I had a hamburger.

I really hate this about me. That I'm so sensitive to stuff like that, that it can affect me so much. It is so easy to make me feel sad- hell, even if the characters in the books I read are sad, I become sad. The first time I read the Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime I started speaking choppy and very literally. (The second time I read it I took on the British mannerisms of Christopher and his supporting characters.) Sometimes that's fun though.

Anyways, I've been feeling kind of shit lately. I don't know why...I have a solid, realistic plan for school, I have an amazing job, I have great friends, I have my aminals, I'm out, I'm open about my MI's, and because I come home so late from work and my brother was having this party, he actually cleaned the house. I love it when it's vacuumed. I remember one Christmas I would vacuum the entire house at least three times a day...mmm...cleanliness....

I'm totally on my meds. I'm actually about to dole out my week's worth in my little green container, (did you know they make it in pink and purple? Those are my favourite popsicle colours!) so you KNOW I'm staying on them. I even have my green stripy cup to match so I can take them right away.

I want to be doing more with my life. That's completely crazy, considering that I sleep 12 hours a day. (Hey! We're down from 14! Yay!) But I want to sew Big Bunny, since she's only surviving on a lot of safety pins right now. I'd sew her on the bus if she wasn't so...big... I want to be volunteering at RVC, since I've gotten so much from the hospital. I want to be getting posters and pamphlets to start off for Speak.

This hurts so much...I don't know why...I want it to go away so badly but I know beggars can't be choosers. (I've heard that three times at Griffin in the past week.) At least I feel good sometimes, instead of just shit all the time.

G'night y'all.

aHA!

Yesterday, or quite recently, I blogged about how it's weird that I'm getting better but I feel a little out of control. (To be more precise, more self-destructive.)

I got it! I'm FEELING MORE. It's been a long time since I've felt anything but self-hatred, irritation, and extreme depression. After my last episode, I felt almost nothing. Just numb. And NOW, I'm feeling angry/sad/happy and apart from having to learn what to do with those emotions, I'm also learning just to feel them again. Usually when I feel the slightest hint of anything, I'd just go straight to self-destruct to make it go away, but I don't want this to go away.

It's been years since I felt things like this, and it's horrible.

It's not really horrible. I mean, this is what I've wanted, to feel something. To feel happy and sad sometimes.

I think I have to come back to this, it's all so new!

Doing The Gay Thing

Someone asked me, "Why? Why can't you just be..." after I had told an endearing story about a PO Box and The Advocate.

Why can you just be gay? Do you really have to do this Pride/Curve/Ellen thing?

I asked myself this question a lot a little while ago, when I was trying to figure out what everyone, "in the community" was doing and trying to do it too. I thought, "Do I have to do all this gay stuff? Can't I just be gay?" And of course I can! I can do whatever the hell i want!

But I want to be a part of this community. I love that I'm working with the Compass group at the Griffin Centre now, I love that I've got the Speak thing going, I love that this is who I am and I'm living it. At some point, I realized I'm not "doing the gay thing."

Come on. Would you, my probably straight reader, want to read a magazine all about how to pick up the best lesbian? Where all the great gay bars are? NO! That's not interesting to you at all! And reading about how to ask out a guy and impress the other sex doesn't interest me. There is no such thing as the "gay thing," I'm just reading and doing and participating in things that interest me.

I think it took that question to realize that although I tried very hard to figure out things like Xtra and the Index and OurChart and stuff like that, (and learning how to say the 5-19 instead of the five-hundred-nineteen church street community centre) I was just learning about myself, and finding things I'm interested in.

I AM just being gay.

I don't get it....

Right now, I really want to be writing in my diary but that's not going to happen. With the normal stress of June Rush usually comes a wave of anxiety, followed shortly by a shit load of OCDness. One of my compulsions is writing really perfectly, but it`s just not practical. So I`ve been typing my exams and really hesitating to write anything down, since it`s so frustrating and slow. I don`t know what`s with me. I`m so much better now...I`m feeling things that I haven`t felt in years and years. Like anger, I haven`t felt something that sharp and loud in forever so when I felt it again my first thought was actually, `What the fuck am I supposed to do with this feeling?" Then I promptly turned around and swore at the assholes talking behind me.

But even though I'm feeling things like being NORMAL sad and NORMAL happy, not the extremes of either one there are still moments...no, there are more moments when I really want to revert to my old, self-destructive ways. It's so scary to have this now and feel like this, almost terrifying. I'm more scared now than I was when I wanted to kill myself...although then, I was really just happy that I'd found a way out.

Is this is way I normally am? When I first started on the pills I wondered if I'd have any idea who I was without depression or anxiety, and I'm quite sure I don't.

Tonight at dinner I was eating my rice in a square, carefully pushing each grain into my little square of rice and trying to get the last mini grains onto my fork because you CAN'T LEAVE THEM THERE, (I also find it weird that sometimes that matters so much to me, and other times not at all) and my family was all, "You're just fucking around!" because they wanted me to get more soup. There's the anger again, and Dr. G said...I'm going to go bike.

Christ in Me

Literally, because I took Eucharist today for the first time in about a year. Y'all know I go to the United Church now, and today was a Eucharist Mass. (They only have it once a month.) Now, this is my fourth time going to Ebeneezer, and the first mass I hadn't had a panic attack for many, many months. I am glad to say I did NOT start hyperventilating today, but I didn't freak out a little when they came up with the bread and the wine. (Err...the bread and the juice.)

I stopped taking Communion when I started accepting my mood disorders and my queerness, and rejecting the Church`s rejection. I kind of...well, I get this feeling that the Catholic church really controls everything, the secular AND the sacred. So for some reason, I stayed away from Communion. Because they can revoke it, and it didn't seem like something about Jesus, it was more of a thing they could take away.

So today I just stayed in my seat, and then Billie came and tugged me up and I said that I wasn't in a state of grace, and she said we didn't have to be! And that it was okay! That we were all welcome to take Communion! And she taught me how to do it in a United Church, and afterwards I was crying. I have never felt so welcome at a Church in my entire life. People don't judge you, they don't tsk tsk when you turn around...god, I was afraid of turning around to watch people come down the aisle until someone told me it was okay.

But it was amazing. To be welcome to that again? To have people not care that I'm gay or dealing with mental illness. But it was also saddening that this experience had to be had... and that it matters so much. I will always be saddened by that, I think.

On Account of Homophobia

Let me tell you a story.

Today Pauline and I were at Timmy's after stopping by the library, talking about religion and the schisms, and how it was so weird that Henry VIII wanted a divorce so he create a whole 'nother religion... when these pleasant people who were sitting next to us asked us what we thought fundamentalism was. So we stuttered through answering that we just studied it and hmmm...it is...it's...hold on, we'll get it...uhh...anyways, they started talking about how it's great that we've accepted Jesus into our lives, (because we told them we went to Catholic school) and that Jesus doesn't take away all hardship, but rather guides us through it to pleasure and happiness. So eventually they mentioned marrying a guy...and of course, I had to wonder, "What if I don't want to marry a man?" and eventually got to saying that I'm gay, whereupon they told me that Jesus still loves me, but he doesn't love my lifestyle. And that they cannot accept someone being gay, and that I am living a life of sin and I must pray for Jesus to save me and that would pray for me...and I said that I accept who I am and whom I love, but thank you anyways, and I left.


So first I was a little shocked. I've had a few encounters like this before, but I was one guy saying, "God hates people like you" and then ignoring me, and some other people just ignoring me, this was a little bit more painful. Because they BELIEVED it, because they thought that I was sinful for loving, because they really in their hearts were going to pray that I got past "that."

Another thing is that they said, "Jesus still loves you." I didn't think there was any question of it! I know He loves me! Or like when people say, "Oh, it's okay." I didn't think there was a problem, or that it ISNT okay. Maybe I'm just really touchy. For a moment there I thought that I was ASKING it, by coming out to those people, but I realize, I'm not being OVERTLY GAY, I'm just being out. Being myself. Do you ever tell someone they're being OVERTLY STRAIGHT? Exactly. This bothers me.

This is the important stuff.

I finally found it in me to stop lying. You all know I've had trouble with the Catholic Church, eventually leaving it and ceasing all activity there. Last week I went to the United Church about two minutes away from my house, because it was a more open and accepting community. What I found was definitely accepting. Everyone was so welcoming and so nice, and I didn't feel as if I had to hide any part of me.

Last week I also became out to my parents.

Mainly, I'd been in the closet to make sure my parents didn't find out. Once they knew, (and I'd rather not go into that) I didn't see a reason to stay there. You see, I've already dealt with stigma. Racism when I was younger, and mental illness more recently. I hid my depression and anxiety for two years. TWO YEARS I was going to the hospital every week, dealing with it by myself because my family didn't want to acknowledge it. I know what it's like to hide. After I was able to become open about my struggles I knew I'd be able to talk about being gay.

I recognize that there will be problems. After all, mental illness isn't SUCH a hot button topic, and there were still issues there. I am ready and willing to talk to you if you want to, but please keep an open mind. I know that I have always been this way. I know some of my past was experimenting, to make sure that I am. (Not that those experiences are any less important to me now.) I know God still loves me, and that I have a right to have and do everything straight people do.

I know I have to watch out. I hesitated before putting Mental Health Day on my updated resume, and I will hesitate before I put the things I'm going to do on it later. There will be discrimination and fear, but I am who I am. I cannot change, I will not be ashamed. I hate that I have to even fight for this, for equality in so many ways but I will.

I'm going to go to the admin at Mary Ward soon and inform them of my intentions of starting a new group at school, named Speak for now. Click here for the Mission Statement. Note I did not say that I would ask for permission. We have a legal right to host any club as long as it complies with the law within our school. It is for everyone. For those who want to help, for gay, straight, trans, mentally ill, mentally healthy, discriminated against, advocates for, and all youth who want to make change. Join me, for this is our society to make a difference in.

To catch up on things...

There's a lot I want you guys to know. First, the mundane stuff.

Today is May 21st. Last day to submit unit with test is May 31st. I have about 30 units to complete and I swear to God, I WILL finish them. I will give up EATING until I get HUNGRY AGAIN. I will do units on my break at work. I will do units at the clinic. I will do units on the bus, on my lap, at family parties, (but not at the wedding) and in the car.

I admit, I will definitely get distracted. The weather is beautiful, I feel like shopping, and I have just met some very amazing people. But I must finish my courses. Shortman- I probably won't be talking as much. Stranger - I know I haven't been talking as much, so now I'm probably just going to make a lot of high pitched noises. JR - RAWWWWWWWKKK!!! quack-neigh. Pau and Christine - You will probably be the people I get distracted the most by. Tsk tsk.

I will also admit that I do have higher priorities than units. My health will always be first, and if I feel that I need to take some time to keep myself from getting into a dangerous state of mind I will take it. If I feel that I am pushing myself too hard to do too much and that could result in some serious repercussions, I will slow down. It took me a long time to recognize that I must ignore the guilty feelings when I take care of myself. I would rather be alive than done my courses. And I would like to stay wanting to be alive. I know my limits, and I'm not crossing them.

My Daemon

Kat's Debut

What can I do with this fire?

I'm a a little over two weeks away from my 17th birthday, which is pretty insignificant compared to last year. I'm already old enough to drive, old enough to emancipate myself, and old enough to...be too lazy to get my license. But the one thing that's important about turning 17 is that I have to start preparing for my debut. Yea, us Filipino's are completely nuts. Kat Is Becoming A Woman.



So for all of you who don't know what a debut is, it's pretty much a coming-of-age for a Filipino girl. It's similar to the Jewish Bat Mitzvah, the Spanish Quinceañera, the white girl's sweet sixteen, and the brown girls...menarche. There's some ceremony, one of them being cotillion, where the girl's friends perform dances. Mostly they're traditional Filipino dances and ballroom. The other ceremony is 18 Candles and 18 Roses, where the girl is presented with...18 candles and roses by her friends and family. Men give the roses, women give the candles.

I wasn't sure if I wanted a debut or not...I can just imagine everyone going nuts near May even without dance rehearsals and stuff, but my Lolo and Lola have always dreamt of my debut. Apparently for Filipino boys it's 21, but I don't think we did anything special for my brother. So I have a lot of questions...

1. Do you want to be a dancer? Please, please say yes! I have like, nine girls, and none of us can dance.
2. Do you want to be an 18 Candles/Roses person? Please, please say yes! I have...my cousins are all really old, and I don't really want to be giving 3 year olds candles.
3. Should I have a head-table? I don't like the idea of sitting above everyone, or being stared at. But my friends want one. I was going to just have a table for us, but I'm not sure.
4. What should be the theme? I'm all for a Sea Otter or Jellyfish theme, but my mom wants spring. Maybe I'll compromise and be Groundhog. You know, groundhogs come out in spring and all.

SERIOUSLY, I need help. I was never big on the debut thing, but I'm getting kind of into it. I just don't know what to do!!!

Mental Health Day

All in all, I'm a little bit glad that I missed out on FLUID this week because I wouldn't have had enough time to freak out over MHD. I would have been freaking out over several things, and honestly my brain doesn't have the space for all that shit. I've managed to push away a lot of that fear and anxiety, at least the unfounded fear and anxiety, and I'm not very well equipped to deal with that much of it. I've got tools to deal with it, but gosh, that was SCARY! Even the night before I surrounded myself with my aminals because it was sinking it. We'd been planning MHD for months, but the idea of telling my story, one I'd hid for a long time in front of people I was afraid of was pretty scary.

When I got to school my first thought was- I have to go to TA. So I went to TA and then I put my stuff in my locker and went to the library and changed my clothes and gave Morrison those Myths about Mental Illness sheets and took a seat. And remembered to breathe. (I actually think that Ms Morrison reminded me to do that.) I think I fidgeted a lot. Mr. Francis showed up and WHA, that was cool! The talk Mary-Anne gave was pretty engaging, but I think I was too nervous to really stop moving.

The break came...I really stopped breathing then until I had stopped running around in circles and was helping Ashley set up the conference room chairs. Here, I had a peer who was about to do the same thing and I think I took heart from him. The teachers really helped too, gosh, that was scary. But they helped me get settled and ready and that was really important. I was completely winging it, but it felt right after a little while. Still nervous, still doing that thing where I make jokes when I'm feeling awkward, but right. When Val and Vae started talking though, I really wished I didn't smile at all the wrong times because I felt like crying. My friends have supported me when I didn't have anyone to talk to without making an appointment, and they supported me even when I did. They are not obligated, they are not condemned if they don't help, but they do it anyways. And no matter when happens in my life, I will never forget the amazing love and friendship they gave to me when I felt I had nothing left but a handful of pills.

The second group was better. I passed around more of my stuff and talked about all the things I'd forgotten about in the first one, and it still tugged at my heart to hear Val and Vae.

Nonetheless, it was a huge relief when lunch came. Did anyone know the caf made such awesome food? Still want some of that pasta, amazing pasta. It felt really weird talking to all those adults though. Just goes to show you, I really have to stop hanging out with toddlers, because all I could think of to say was things about how cute my nieces and nephews are and how I "don't get it." Seriously, grown-ups are a different species.

Dr. Berber was cool. He was very different from any other speaker I'd seen, and I think Mary Ward makes a point of arranging for unique speaking styles. His mnemonics were pretty useful actually, I'm trying to find a website or something where those are listed but I'm just finding a lot of articles citing him as a resource. If anyone finds it, can you tell me? It was good.

Although it really was a roller coaster day, (and all those people who met my gr8 teacher in the first group know I don't like roller coasters!) it was very freeing. No more hiding.

Vlog Number Thirteen

Post 101!!!

Google my House!

Google My House!

The newest search tool from Google is designed to target even the laziest of teenagers. It's called Google my house! and it's the biggest internet phenomenon since YouTube and virtual packing bubbles. (Internet Videos and Stress Helpers.)

The newest Google enables you to search the contents of your house, and their locations after a quick scan. Google sends a small leprechaun through your Internet Connection which then appraises your goods and continues to mark any changes in your house. Then you can easily search for anything on your property through the internet wizard. Here are some search functions we loved at Power of What.

Find: textbooks+paper+unit guides+units+lunch+drink+weed into schoolbag.
Find: schoolbag.
This search query finds the items listed above and follows the instruction, "into" to pack your bag for you. Another quick flick of the wrist and your packed bag is by your side. You can even break it down to find the components of your lunch and put them together, if you use the right terms.

Find: hard liqueur+shot glass
Lose: parental supervision
This handy "lose" function is great for us!

Find: functional family
Unfortunately, we found a tiny glitch. After inputting this search query, we recieved this message.
"SYNTAX ERROR: SEARCHED ITEM DOES NOT EXIST. Contact leprechaun for further assistance."
We've learned to expect a lot from google, but I think that pushed the limits.

Anyways, with this great new addiction- sorry- addition to the google family, we're sure to become a much more obese nation. Can I google Timmy's?

A Streetcar Named Desire

That's right, we finally made it. Grade 11 drama is a lot of work, but it's a lot of fun too! Below...the cast for Scene 7 and 8.
Stanley Kowalski - Matt G
Blanche DuBois - Pauline D
Stella Kowalski - Kat Y
A real cake, real candles, REAL BROKEN CUPS. Even though we took forever memorizing lines and it was...really...awkward in rehearsal, that was the REAL SHIT out there! Matt was really pissed, and alternately quite loving, and Blanche was the crazy bitch we knew she really was. My darling sister! (Did anyone else feel bad when she went to the asylum?)

I'm having a lot of trouble writing this, so I'm going to go to sleep again.

Awwww....I love this commercial.

Sleep-Speak

I've been sleeping like a koala. Which is nothing new, I mean even before the new stuff I'd been pretty much a 16-hour girl. I really hate that sometimes he says it could just be my sleep cycle, because honestly I don't know anyone else who sleeps this much. Normally. You know, someone without mental health issues. I've actually gone out wearing my pajama's a few times this week, just because I cannot get out of my bed. And once I'm out, I'm not out for long, so why bother changing?

Tuesday was the usual. I had one of those stupid appointments where you have one and then another one 1 1/2 hours later, so I used my time to explore. Turns out there wasn't much that I hadn't covered except the first floor, which I had an inexplicable fear of. IT WAS AWESOME. I found the Tunnel to Shoniker, which is yellow and ugly, but functional. I found the swimming pool, for physio, and the other lobby, and these boring offices that I don't think I was supposed to go into. Whatever. I didn't find the other piano though...maybe I misunderstood him.

Here's the fun part- semi formal! (Hence, the picture above.) Val and I got all sexy and straight-haired and make-upped and dressed-up. When we got there it was all white-food and we were all white-dancing but it was okay, because we had FUN! It was pretty cool actually, I thought it'd be a little lonely but it wasn't.

Here's the BIG NEWS- Jump the Gun is off and running! Pauline and I have been meeting with Morrison and Ireland for a little while, so things are really happening. For y'all blog readers, I know you don't have any idea with JTG is, so here's a quick summary:

Jump The Gun is an in-school initiative with a focus on VOICE. We believe in speaking up to achieve change in a peaceful yet meaningful manner. Using our voices and our words, we believe that we can amend what people believe has to be, to what can be. We believe in an active lifestyle of advocating acceptance. Who people are makes no difference, but what they do can change the world. What a beautiful world it can be, if we only step up, speak up, and make a difference.

Hey, I said it would be quick. And now my font is different and it's bothering me. BE STRONG KAT, BE STRONG!!! We're doing a big kickoff with a Mental Health Day for Ireland's IDC students. Yours truly will be hosting a workshop herself. I'm pretty proud of myself, but I'm afraid the realities of mental illness are going to eat at this. (Excessive sleeping, low mood, changed appetites, etc?) I mean, it's all well and good to do something awesome like this, but it's a completely different cricket game when you're doing it with mental illness.

I'm happy to save I've found a place at school for myself. I was always a little bit jealous of my brother, having all these people who still remember him, (I've been called Eric a few times, which is weird, because even if I don't look like a girl I DO have breasts and he doesn't.) I didn't have anyone to remember me. I think I do now, and that really makes a difference. Just today I was remembering how I used to hate the walls at Ward when I first started going there...but now, they make up the walls of my home. It's not always safe, and it's not always pleasant, but it's another home.

Alright guys, I'm going to head off to sleep. G'night.