Skinner would say that it was a failure of chained responses in verbal associative learning, but it could be a Freudian slip.

Either analysis would be subject to the theories of Dr. Autocorrect.

Even the hardiest stock would be subject to situational depression in your circumstances, Maria, plus I suspect that hardy stock get depressed, but don't talk about it. An antidepressant can help with either.

Eh, Maria, you've had a shitty time of it lately. Not surprising that you would be depressed.

But you have to think of the poor twins. Not only do they have two psychologists for parents (even one is too much of a burden for any kid), they are identical twins with two parents who study identical twins for a living. Only time will tell if they can overcome this hardship.

Hah! Wow, you both study identical twins? How weirded/psyched out were you when you found out you were having some?

Much as there are things (partner, kids) I want in life, I think one thing I've realized is that there are many paths I could take, and I suspect I would have different issues in all of them. I mean, I think about if I had moved somewhere else, or not moved, or gone to a different college, or not ever thought about being gay, or whatever...and I think about how in all those cases I'd still have issues. Different ones than I have now, but still. (OK, some would be the same--I'd still be me, and still, say, hate cleaning the house) But I can easily imagine myself as a suburban housewife. Or having moved to another country. Or whatever.

ETA: Oh, and I have to say, I'm jealous of and happy for Sarameg every time she talks about her awesome neighborhood and neighbors! I like my house and where I live location-wise, but definitely don't have anything like that, and that would be awesome!

You could stop in Arizona! What? It's on the way!

And we'll actually be around this year, probably. Usually we go to the missions convention and it's somewhere midwestish so we drive or train and then visit family for the holiday. But this year it's in Atlanta, so if we go at all, I fly solo, which would put me back in AZ for the holiday.

You all are really fabulous, but sometimes I wonder if you're actually seeing *me*, 'cause I sure as hell don't see what you're seeing.

That's what we're here for, because you can't see you--you're inside you! But we can, and we see you, and you look awesome to us. This is a super hard time, but you can get through this. And we're here for you.

I'd like to think I'd leave a dent, you know?

Someone wrote a whole chapter about you in a book once. And gave you a moon.

Oh, Maria. {{hugs}}

As wiser and more articulate folks have said upthread, other people having a shitty time doesn't make your pain any less valid. You're allowed to be unhappy, and please don't beat yourself up about it.

As wiser and more articulate folks have said upthread, other people having a shitty time doesn't make your pain any less valid. You're allowed to be unhappy, and please don't beat yourself up about it.

YES. THIS. Maria, my darling, you are allowed to be unhappy. Trust me. If you let yourself just actually BE unhappy for a little bit, instead of thinking, oh, something like "Other people are having a worse time than me, I shouldn't feel this way", then it becomes possible to move past the unhappy and the feeling stuck.

(These are concepts my therapist is trying to pound into my head. They're finally starting to stick, just a little bit.)

I wish we had a kind of a shorthand for:

I realize that the problem I am having in no way compares to people who are starving, being tortured, watching a loved one suffer in horrible pain, or are otherwise living under a tarp in a heap of trash. Those people have problems that I'm not sure I could ever handle. The problem that I am having right now is scaring the hell out me right now, and while I am putting it in the context that I understand fully that I am not in danger of homelessness or imminent death, I just need some comfort so my stomach will stop hurting and I can be a little less afraid.

I would call this shorthand the Fucking Perspective Clause (FPC) so that I can invoke it without having to qualify my fears and needs for a bit of compassion with a long drawn out explanation of how much fucking perspective I actually have before asking for the above described comfort.

I do this thing. I have a hard time asking for help or comfort before I get to the point where I'm on the ledge. And then I feel so awful for the near hysterical tone I have and need to apologize to everyone for just asking for a little bit of cheer or advice.

I would call this shorthand the Fucking Perspective Clause (FPC) so that I can invoke it without having to qualify my fears and needs for a bit of compassion with a long drawn out explanation of how much fucking perspective I actually have before asking for the above described comfort.

This is a BRILLIANT idea. Yes, we need this sort of thing.

Allyson, I am so happy about your car situation finally being resolved!

I feel like there's something DEEPLY, severely wrong with me that I don't want kids.

I'm nobody's model for mental health, but I've never been interested in having kids. I'm bewildered that anyone wants to do that in the same way I'm bewildered that anyone wants to ride roller coasters; I understand intellectually that people enjoy it, but wow, every part of it looks like torture.

I'd like to have a vaguely sane romantic relationship before I die, but I suspect that might require me to have some kind of fundamentally transformative experience that I wouldn't enjoy very much.

Hey, I call you for a bit of compassion now and again. You do alright.