Judging from my blog, I must think I’m the poster child for mental health or something! The quote above comes from an article in BBC Health News about the changed [...]]]>

If normal behaviour is increasingly being categorised as mental illness then that creates a burden on individuals, families and on society as a whole.

Judging from my blog, I must think I’m the poster child for mental health or something! The quote above comes from an article in BBC Health News about the changed diagnoses in the upcoming DSM-5.  I have actually been thinking about “overdiagnosis” a lot, but not necessarily by psych health professionals. I’m not really qualified to comment on whether or not the new definitions in the DSM-5 will lead the psych community to diagnose the wrong people. What I am more concerned about is whether people will “diagnose” themselves or others, which they seem to do now just fine, with no outside help from professionals.

Think about it. How many times have you heard someone say “Oh, you are so OCD!” What do you think “OCD” really means? Do you think it means “Obsessively Neat and Tidy”? OCD is a disorder that affects the quality of life of the sufferer. People who have it are affected in a variety of ways, and the compulsions range from washing, to checking, to hoarding. Yep. Hoarders are often disorganized and not tidy. Don’t believe me? Read here. Of course, the other end of the OCD myth is that some people think that “real” OCD is very rare. It is actually relatively common for a psych disorder.

My other concern is youth and teen diagnoses. First of all, adolescence is a cruel trick. Adolescent behavior (which continues until around age 25 or so, believe it or not), is freakish in and of itself. So why do we cart Suzy off to the PMD because she is moody, withdrawn, and defiant? Why can’t we just have a pizza and movie night with her, give her a safe space in which to be alone, and take away her phone privileges, like our parents did when we behaved that way?

Little Johnny can’t sit still in class? He interrupts and thrown tantrums at home? Well, maybe Little Johnny has ADD, or possibly Little Johnny is a spoiled rotten little jerk. Possibly he wouldn’t be so desperate for attention if we paid him the proper kind of parental attention at the right time and in the right places, instead of just freaking out when he doesn’t magically behave the way we want him to.

Ok, here’s where the caveat comes in, so read this carefully: In no way am I trying to belittle, disparage, or otherwise detract from youth, teen, or other diagnoses which may affect you, your loved ones, or your loved ones’ loved ones. Also, I am in no way implying that the disorders I talk about here (and even others!) are not very real problems which do exist and do hurt people. I’m just saying that while we’re working to reduce the stigma that mental illness implies (and we are working to do that, aren’t we?), we should also be less quick to label behavior as “mental illness.”

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I just committed the most evil act. Therefore, like many criminals, I must now confess to the internet.

Our office really isn’t for the “general public.” So we have a “no soliciting” sign on the door and we keep [...]]]> [NOTE: This was two days ago. I think James came to pick me up for lunch or something.]

I just committed the most evil act. Therefore, like many criminals, I must now confess to the internet.

Our office really isn’t for the “general public.” So we have a “no soliciting” sign on the door and we keep it locked. Sadly, I am stuck out in front of the door like the stupid receptionist, er, ahem, excellent administrative assistant that I am. What happens? People are always trying to open the door, or knocking on it, trying to get in. They *know* they’re in the wrong place. They want directions. Because, you know, I don’t have any work to do, and of course I know every business that’s located up and down either side of HWY 183. Right?

There are several other businesses in this mall. One is a huge ophthalmology office. Directly across from me is a chiropractic office with cute little plants and crap all around the door. Next door to me is a technical surveying (I think) business which also has a poor sap stuck next to the window while he does his work. Do people knock on those doors? Of course not. I am so lucky.

Well, today. Hmm, today, no one is in the office and I was spending some quality “me” time looking at iPhone cases I probably won’t buy. I was busy, dammit! In any case, a car pulled up and an Asian couple got out. The man was on crutches. They begin arguing loudly in what I assume is their native language. It sounded like a dialect of Chinese, but what do I know about Asian languages? Very little.

I didn’t want to answer the door and deal with them, so I stared hard at the computer screen and picked up the office phone and pretended to be talking on it. That’s right, kids, you heard it here first. The Asian couple would have to actually knock on the door to get my attention. I held my breath and stared at the monitor like the secrets of the universe were contained within. I talked to an imaginary person on the phone about how much I wished the couple would go away. I hoped they wouldn’t knock, please, God, don’t let them knock! And they didn’t! They got back in their car and went away, arguing very loudly the entire time! Huzzah!

But what’s this? Now I am overcome with guilt. Not “and remorse” but guilt just the same… And so I purge myself, here in digital la-la land. Cheers, kids. I hope you won’t see me in “doesn’t give lost Asian couples with leg injuries directions” hell.

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04/22/2010

Merging on Highway 183

I cursed as a saloon-like sedan pulled into my blind spot

just after I turned on the yellow clicking signal

to indicate my intent.

The dirty nickel sky hung low as I was propelled,

in my aging metal box, careening toward my office.

I slowed to try [...]]]> I thought I’d post a frivolous something for National Poetry Month.

04/22/2010

Merging on Highway 183

I cursed as a saloon-like sedan pulled into my blind spot

just after I turned on the yellow clicking signal

to indicate my intent.

The dirty nickel sky hung low as I was propelled,

in my aging metal box, careening toward my office.

I slowed to try and find the window

I needed to turn

I needed to reach my destination

and our eyes met.

His hands, too, were white

both tense on the steering wheel

his car also faded from many rains

years of service in a world ever changing.

The familiar look of resigned terror

of smaller creatures surrounded by larger, more dangerous animals

passed between us before he smiled

and slowed enough

so I could gain the left lane. My relief

spread over my belly like warm triumph

like a favorite blanket spread over a sunny lawn.

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This is ok. Well, at least, I’m in a good place with that right now. Actually, I just wanted to let you guys know a few little things about my life, and sort of rev everyone (including myself) up for [...]]]> In the past, I’ve posted about focus, and then promptly and thoroughly failed to get some.

This is ok. Well, at least, I’m in a good place with that right now. Actually, I just wanted to let you guys know a few little things about my life, and sort of rev everyone (including myself) up for a few changes.

As some of you know, my life as taken a turn for the geek again recently. Now, while this turn really just involves an entry-level job at an engineering firm, it has forced me to re-examine a lot of my goals and my life overall. I have no idea what this really means, but at least I’m in shape to examine my life. That’s always a plus.

In the next few weeks I plan to do a little remodeling around the site, and creating some different sorts of posts from what I normally offer here. Does this mean a total absence of whining and ranting is imminent? Not at all! This is still my personal website, and I am free to post whatever I wish. Hooray! I’m just thinking of organizing it differently.

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Having karmatically been struck down with the cootie-virus of death, I remain confined to this dwelling indefinitely. Note to self: whining, while it may be satisfying at the time, is annoying and will surely have consequences. Fracture of right metatarsal is improved, but remains an inconvenience. Feline companion seems sympathetic and condescends to give [...]]]> Day 3:

Having karmatically been struck down with the cootie-virus of death, I remain confined to this dwelling indefinitely. Note to self: whining, while it may be satisfying at the time, is annoying and will surely have consequences. Fracture of right metatarsal is improved, but remains an inconvenience. Feline companion seems sympathetic and condescends to give me her time in between stalking and killing plastic lizards. Male companion, who seems to have been the point of origin for the disease, is somewhat improved. He is also solicitous and has provided me with clear fluids and treats as necessary.

I leave this account in hopes that in the case of our demise we may be remembered. We leave no progeny, and perhaps it is a blessing that they do not suffer the same terrible fate. Should we survive, these pages will serve as an account of our trials and a reminder to take nothing for granted. Good night, and God save us all.

….
….
….

*laughs and laughs and laughs*
I couldn’t even type the entire piece with a straight face! And I’m full of cough medicine and nearly immobile! I think there’s something wrong with me, and it ain’t this cootie.

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In any case, [...]]]> Sometimes all you need is to throw a good tantrum and get a few hours sleep. Well, I threw a verbal tantrum, which is sort of like a tantrum. But maybe those screaming little kids in department stores know something we don’t. And maybe those proverbial monkeys will fly out of my posterior.

In any case, life ain’t so bad. The hubby is feeling a bit better, and if I don’t end up getting to the store, I have bratwurst, pumpernickel, and beer. We could have German food night!

My husband and my kitty both love me and are sitting on the couch with me as I write this. I have more than four-and-a-half friends, who all rock hardcore and who take time to comfort me AND make fun of me. I know how to make delicious beer, even by experienced beermaker’s standards. I figured out that if I toss the laundry down the stairs, it allows me to hang on to the banister while descending and then pick up the clothes again! I have somewhat of an excuse to sit on the couch, which was one of my favorite spots until I was confined to it. I’m gonna brew beer and make spent grain bread tomorrow or the next day! I might actually get my house totally deep cleaned if I keep doing bits of it at a time, and face it, cleaning house wasn’t on the top of my priority list before I had to sit in it all the time. So yeah, I got reasons to be cheerful.

My pity party was awesome, though. Everyone who was anyone was there.

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So what’s the big idea, Christine? Why the self-pity party?

Well, Non-specific Writing-Persona Addressee, we haven’t really had a pity party like this since Katrina.

Does that mean you’re gonna wig out completely in a year like you did after Katrina?

Um, no, Non-specific Writing-Persona Addressee, that was post-traumatic stress. [...]]]> Oh yeah, we’re kind of on a roll here.

So what’s the big idea, Christine? Why the self-pity party?

Well, Non-specific Writing-Persona Addressee, we haven’t really had a pity party like this since Katrina.

Does that mean you’re gonna wig out completely in a year like you did after Katrina?

Um, no, Non-specific Writing-Persona Addressee, that was post-traumatic stress. This is just a normal pity party. Have some perspective. Sheesh. You’re such an alarmist.

Yes, I am whiny. Yes, I am pissed off for no reason. Yes, I am overreacting, and I don’t give a good goddamn. I have been mostly stranded in the house since we got back from X-mas. My husband, aside from telling me what I am going to do and what I am not going to do (I am proving him right by not going to bed, by the way) also has the cootie-virus of death and could die any minute now. Ok, he said finally that he was feeling better, and I am a worse patient than he is, so I can’t really say anything, can I?

But yeah, he’s out of commission, so basically, it’s me, in a giant weird Frankenstein contraption trying to figure out how to bring soup and drinks up the stairs at the same time without busting my ass or tripping over the cat or something. Last time I had a major broken bone (high school) I had people to take me to the movies and call me and stuff. Now, judging by responses, I have about, oh, probably four friends. Maybe.  Ok, Joe, four and a half. Heh heh heh. Hey, you do spend time poking the bear. That’s worth some points. Oh, can I say that on the internet? It sounds questionable.

But yeah, mostly people make fun of me. I mean, I have a sense of humor, sort of. And honestly, I would make fun of me, too. Except that I would also call or stop by or something. Ok, I would call, because most of my friends don’t live within driving distance. And maybe I wouldn’t stop by somewhere if the injured person’s husband had the cootie-virus of death. So maybe people are giving me perfectly rational responses?

I will say one thing, though. My friend Amy always calls or contacts me when I’m bummed out.  I’m not even talking about ready-to-play-in-traffic bummed out, I’m talking about normal every day bummed out. It’s awesome. AND SHE DOESN’T LIVE IN THIS COUNTRY. It costs her like three million billion dollars to call me on the phone, but she does it when I freaking burn the dinner or simply wish I was somewhere else. Because she is awesome.

That is not to say everyone else is not awesome. You are all beautiful and unique snowflakes and I am privileged to know each and every one of you. Even you, creepy stranger on the internet who somehow came upon my site and is internet stalking me now. Even you. (HAH, I should be so famous.) I am just feeling sorry for myself (AND I ADMIT IT)  because I’m pissy and I can’t do stuff and my leg muscle is getting smaller after only the first week and my ass is surely getting bigger, and I like to be the center of attention or something. OK, scratch the last part — I like attention but maybe not being the center of it. But I admit it, this is Christine’s pity party. Welcome. I have h’ors d’oeuvres and champagne. Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow, I will certainly have to diet.

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You can join with me as your referral by clicking this link:

http://www.vpnwars.com/meteor/vpn/redir/signup/?ra=51641

When you do a quest, and gain levels in certain increments, it gives me a certain amount of fame.

I suppose this is the latest game I’m interested in.  It’s [...]]]> Hey y’all. I would love it if you would try this  game, called Vikings, Pirates, Ninjas!

You can join with me as your referral by clicking this link:

http://www.vpnwars.com/meteor/vpn/redir/signup/?ra=51641

When you do a quest, and gain levels in certain increments, it gives me a certain amount of fame.

I suppose this is the latest game I’m interested in.  It’s a browser game that’s good for playing while you wait for other things to happen. (You know, that life stuff everyone keeps talking about.)  You can choose a faction: Viking, Pirate, or Ninja.  Of course, you get three toons, so you can actually be one of each, if you so desire. The game works with Flash and other apps, and you can do quests, buy stuff with the money you earn, or play mini games.  It’s only been live since April 27 or so, but it’s got a pretty good following. It was made by the creators of Neopets, which became hugely successful. This is a tiny bit more adult that Neopets, though. OK, in all honesty, I’m pretty experienced with Neopets, and it’s a lot more appealing to an adult audience than Neo is.  Apparently they know what they are doing. Also, this would be a good time to join, since you can “get in on the ground floor,” as it were. If you’re into that kind of thing. I’m totally digging it. It’s a bit more robust than many of the Facebook app games where you only have so many “moves,” but it’s still light enough that you don’t feel like you have to devote hours just to get anywhere. Many games are based on “time spent” type rewards, but I think this one is going to end up pretty balanced — if you make good decisions about where you need to use your energy, I think you can do pretty well.

If you join, be sure and friend my characters so that I can give you an “energy boost” when I see you on – energy lets you do more quests. My characters’ names are “Flintybones” (pirate) and “Kisi Wartooth” (Viking).  Facebook has this game as an app, but I don’t know how to get Facebook to do the referrals yet. But yeah, if you are even remotely interested, join through the link above and do a quest. That would rock. I don’t uusally ask for this sort of thing outright, but I thought this would be fun. I may even hit some of you up on Gtalk.  Sorry about blatantly trying to get referrals, but I figured that just this once it was worth a shot.

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