A deep dark stillness

That’s what I feel inside me at this moment. It’s like a dead zone in my soul, and yet, not quite. It should feel eerie and possibly even unpleasant, but instead I find it… interesting. I feel like I am slowly exploring a dark, ancient mansion, suspended between fascination and fear.

I’m sure this is a transition phase of some sort. A momentary stillness between emotional states, like that moment of weightlessness at the apogee of your swing when swinging on a swing (swing) on a playground.

I was entranced by that moment as a kid. I felt like if I could part company with the swing at that exact moment, I would stay weightless and gravity would no longer apply to me.

Clearly, that’s not possible, nor does it make any sense. But kids get odd ideas in their heads.

I aired out my bedroom yesterday. Opened both the bedroom and bathroom windows as wide as they can go and left them that way most of the afternoon and into the evening, until it got too damned cold.

Really freshened up the place. Must remember to do that more often. Things can get rather stale in here.

I also attempted gingersnaps yesterday. I say “attempted” because what resulted was not gingersnaps at all. They taste like ginger and they are a decent sort of cookie overall, but they ain’t gingersnaps.

The first sign of trouble was, when I had just finished fluffing together the dry ingredients (it’s like sifting them together, but with a spoon), I suddenly realized that the recipe I was using called for Splenda Sugar Blend, the stuff that’s half sugar, instead of Splenda Granulated, which is the stuff that’s one hundred percent Splenda.

Well fuck. If it hadn’t been for the fact that I had just used up the last of my flour in assembling the dry ingredients, I would have just dumped everything and started over with a proper recipe this time. But as it was, I had to just keep going and use one hundred percent Splenda anyhow.

Then I found that I had less molasses than the recipe called for. I was sure I had the quarter cup the recipe asked for, but,not quite. I had more like… 3/8ths of a cup. So, that was a problem.

That become especially evident when I tried to pull the dough together. It was way too dry. It was so dry that I couldn’t even get all of the dry ingredients to mix into the main ball of dough. That was clearly not going to work.

And that’s when I made my third mistake. I decided that in order to moisten things up, I would add more applesauce. (My first time baking with unsweetened applesauce, by the way. )

The problem with that brainwave is that it was extremely difficult to get the applesauce to mix in with the existing (and surprisingly stiff) dough. So I ended up having to work the dough A LOT and that only made it even stiffer.

Finally, it was time to turn the dough into cookies to bake. The recipe said the cookies should start as rounded tablespoons of dough. And if my dough had not been incredibly stiff, that might have worked. But as it was, I ended up with 20 very large Godzilla cookies instead of the 50 or so dainty, crispy gingersnaps I was looking for.

Plus, the dough was better with the extra applesauce, but it still wasn’t that great, and so the dough did not come together quite right and I ended up with folds and cracks in it. So the texture of the… whatevers I ended up with is a tad uneven.

But what the heck. They’re food. They taste good, even with uneven texture, and I look forward to having them over the next few days. I won’t be baking today, as it is Sunday, but Monday is another baking day with its own challenges and rewards.

That means, though, that tonight I need to buy flour and molasses. I’m always running out of something!

And this month is going to be brutal. It’s a five week month, and of course, I only realized that after I was a week and a half in and had already spent more than I ought to have done. Add to that the fact that I have to go add more dough to my card because I forgot I had a domain name to pay to renew, and that’s not even counting the $45 it will take to renew my bus pass, and you start to see why I am feeling financially smooshed this month.

God, I wish I had a way to earn money. I would feel a heck of a lot better about myself if I could earn bucks, instead of relying entirely on the Province for everything. I have never supported myself, and so to me, the mere act of being able to pay the bills with the fruits of my own labour seems like an impossible dream lying beyond the eternal horizon.

I still feel incompetent. I know I am not, but it’s a hard mental pattern to break. I know damned well that I have strong organizational skills and a sharp intellect, and those combined can make for an effective way to deal with the world in a way closely mirroring actually being good at stuff.

The dream, of course, is still the artists’ dream of being able to do nothing but create art and have everything else taken care of by others. It would be so awesome to not have to worry about the petty details of life.

Then again, it’s not like I have a lot of them to worry about now. In theory, I already have a lot of things taken care of for me due to Joe’s awesomeness.

But I am not in control of that. It makes me feel guilty and burdensome, not empowered and free.

Some day, I swear, I will pay my own way.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

The year in Crack

I’ve been going through the two year-end review articles on my ersatz home, Cracked.com, and I thought I would share some links and thoughts that they bring up.

Obviously, being a fan, I had read all the articles and seen most of the videos before. But it’s nice to revisit.

Like this article about 4 well loved TV shows that were hell behind the scenes. It’s a bit of a harsh read, but I have an insatiable desire to know everything about how television is actually made, so I enjoy the read nonetheless.

They bring up Gene Roddenberry’s bizarre insistence that in the Star Trek : The Next Generation universe, there was no longer any interpersonal conflict. And that, Great Bird, is literally impossible.

I can imagine no conception of the human animal that does not include interpersonal conflict. Sexual reproduction alone drives us towards it as we compete for mates. The fact that we are a pair-bonding species ups the ante considerably. Add in differences of personality, communication styles, and the vital necessity of establishing a unique identity via differentiation, and the fact that some people are just born cranky, and interpersonal conflict is inevitable.

The only way to prevent it would be to either drug or lobotomize everyone, which sounds suspiciously like the sort of system that Kirk would destroy if given half the chance.

But as the article points out. Gene was, well, circling the bowl at the time. He was pretty much broken down everywhere, including the brain, so his fanatical insistence on this unsupportable ideal is understandable. This was, presumably, the one thing he could remember and hold onto while everything else turned into chaos and misery.

Then there’s the 5 Facts Everyone Gets Wrong About Depression, which hits rather close to home.

They talk about how depression does not mean you are always miserable and alone. Take my case. Someone who was not an it-getter about depression might see me out with my friends and think “That guy doesn’t look depressed to me!”

But depression is a much more long term illness than that. Like the article says, the rest of the time, when I am alone with myself, the forces of my overactive superego come in and make me hate myself and all that comes with that.

They also mention that people think depression is just sadness, and that is so far from the truth. I would welcome being merely sad. In fact, there are times when I have found myself feeling melancholy and it has been a blessed relief, something I actually treasure, because sadness is so much less corrosive and destructive than depression.

Sadness is rain. Depression is acid rain in a hurricane of fear and pain.

Then there’s this whole idea that antidepressants don’t work. Uh, bullshit. Paxil saved my sanity and my life. If it hadn’t been for Paxil, I would have walked into traffic by now. And the idea that they don’t work, like the article said, could actually lead to people dying. So I am quite vehement when the subject comes up.

Then there is the people with depression who don’t want to take the meds because it will “change who they are”. Well duh, that’s the whole point. They change you from a depressed person to one who is not so depressed. There is no such thing as change without change. The mere act of getting better will change you.

But it won’t change your true self. In fact, it will uncover it.

Then there’s that whole “snap out of it” thing. People who say that depressed people need to snap out of it are not necessarily being cruel or willfully ignorant. They might be just tell you what works for them. It is very difficult, if not impossible, for people who have never suffered from depression to even imagine what it is like. And so they offer the best advice they know.

Sure, their ignorance is painful to us and that’s not something they or we can help. But they mean well.

The harshest one that made the list, though, is 6 Shocking Realities of the Secret Troubled Teen Industry.

The fact that there is anywhere in the civilized world where that kind of shit is legal just plain boggles my mind. It’s the sort of thing I thought went out with the lobotomy. The pockets of utter barbarity in the USA never cease to amaze me.

I was a “troubled teen”. I was very depressed and I missed a ton of school. If my parents had been that psycho, they could easily have arranged that kind of shit for me. And if that had happened, I would have gone completely insane.

That’s not hyperbole. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I have very strong opinions about my personal autonomy and expression of self, and anyone who tried to suppress me would find themselves dealing with a side of me that I, thankfully, have never really had to express very much.

And who knows, maybe if I had not been bullied so harshly that I had to learn to fight just to establish my right to exist, this side wouldn’t be there. As it is, I am positive that if they tried that shit on me, I would go positively feral. They would not have an easy time with my capture, and even once they had me, I have a dangerous combination of intelligence, imagination, and savagery that would make me very difficult to contain.

And there’s really only one way that would have ended : me in a home for the criminally insane. I would fight like a bear every step of the way, they would have more than enough evidence to convince the authorities that I was a danger to others (even if I was only fighting for my own freedom), and I would end up convicted of assault and put into the asylum system.

And what would happen there? More people trying to control me who would not understand that I am perfectly sane and well behaved as long as people are not trying to control me or lock me up.

I would never get out.

That’s why I am so afraid of mental health hospitals/wards. I feel like if I got into one, a downward spiral of reaction to attempts to control me that would lead to me in a straitjacket in a rubber room.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.