Ugh, sorry about the panic attack, Hil.
I almost got into something that I would have regretted on FB just now, but I stopped myself. Must. Hold. Back.
I'm working my way through all five seasons of Through The Wormhole. SCIENCE!
I hate to break it to you, oh impotent one, but you're not the big bad anymore, you're not even the kind of naughty.
Xander ,'Showtime'
Spike's Bitches 48: I Say, We Go Out There, and Kick a Little Demon Ass.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
amyth - Sep 07, 2014 4:05:08 pm PDT #13221 of 30002
And none of us deserving the cruelty or the grace -- Leonard Cohen
Laura - Sep 07, 2014 4:32:07 pm PDT #13222 of 30002
Our wings are not tired.
I hope that attack is history now and that you have a restful night, Hil.
That is quite the transition, Connie. I hope that Kenny loves Seattle and that you can see him enjoying his new life. Tough I know.
Atropa - Sep 07, 2014 5:05:24 pm PDT #13223 of 30002
The artist formerly associated with cupcakes.
now I'll probably never see him again, unless I go to Seattle and know how to find him
Hasn't he been living on his own for a few years now? (Because omg he became a grown-up when I wasn't looking.) Were you two just never able to get schedules to match up for coffee?
Connie Neil - Sep 07, 2014 6:05:35 pm PDT #13224 of 30002
brillig
Hubby and he tried to get together for games, but 20-somethings live on a different time line than 50-somethings.
edit: and different cities.
Steph L. - Sep 08, 2014 8:12:36 am PDT #13225 of 30002
this mess was yours / now your mess is mine
Does this happen to anyone else? After I finally put into words -- and convey said words to another person -- that shit feels really hard right now*, everything suddenly feels SO MUCH HARDER. Way to go, brain.
*(It's just the cumulative weight of people dying all summer and Tim's dad's dementia getting worse and other smaller stresses that have started to add up. Frankly, I think that anxiety and crying jags are a normal way to react. I even thought, this morning, "Does this mean I need antidepressants again?" And then thought, "Fuck no. This isn't numb apathetic depression; this is a normal grief/stress reaction. It just blows." And I finally told Tim last night that it's just really hard for me to deal right now, and then today I feel exponentially worse.)
But, seriously: does that happen to anyone else? When you finally open up and talk about how you're really stressed and sad and anxious and grieving AND THEN you feel even *worse*? Or am I just a special kind of crazy over here?
juliana - Sep 08, 2014 8:21:08 am PDT #13226 of 30002
I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I miss them all tonight…
But, seriously: does that happen to anyone else? When you finally open up and talk about how you're really stressed and sad and anxious and grieving AND THEN you feel even *worse*? Or am I just a special kind of crazy over here?
That's common (at least for me). I think it's because I'm finally acknowledging the exact dimensions of the problems or stress, and so my brain has the period of grief or anxiety while it grapples with the whole. (Because while everything was still undefined, it could be smaller than it is. Even though that's never the case.) Upside is that after my brain's freakout, I tend to feel more able to cope with everything, or at least to come up with A Plan. Even if the plan is to have crying jags and consume my weight in chocolate.
amych - Sep 08, 2014 8:30:29 am PDT #13227 of 30002
Now let us crush something soft and watch it fountain blood. That is a girlish thing to want to do, yes?
But, seriously: does that happen to anyone else? When you finally open up and talk about how you're really stressed and sad and anxious and grieving AND THEN you feel even *worse*?
Yeah. In my totally non-scientific explanation of my own brain TO my brain, it feels like the mental health analogue of getting past the big deadline/stressor/whatever and THEN getting sick because your immune system thinks it can finally let its guard down.
It does get better for me after that.
Steph L. - Sep 08, 2014 8:32:25 am PDT #13228 of 30002
this mess was yours / now your mess is mine
I think it's because I'm finally acknowledging the exact dimensions of the problems or stress, and so my brain has the period of grief or anxiety while it grapples with the whole. (Because while everything was still undefined, it could be smaller than it is. Even though that's never the case.)
Yeah, I think that's it. That makes sense.
I'm just always slightly afraid that the act of naming my stress/grief/anxiety somehow conjures even more from the aether.
Amy - Sep 08, 2014 9:13:41 am PDT #13229 of 30002
Because books.
For me I think it's what juliana said -- it can seem smaller and less significant if I keep it bottled up in my head. When I start to talk about it, it makes it real (and huge), and that always terrifies me.
Fred Pete - Sep 08, 2014 9:18:46 am PDT #13230 of 30002
Ann, that's a ferret.
But, seriously: does that happen to anyone else? When you finally open up and talk about how you're really stressed and sad and anxious and grieving AND THEN you feel even *worse*? Or am I just a special kind of crazy over here?
It depends. Talking about it helps me to define it. Sometimes, it brings the problem into human scope. But sometimes, it makes me wonder how I can still function with everything that presses down on me.