I try not to inflict the psych-talk on people who aren't related and therefore obliged to still love me despite the neuroses, but I feel the urge to share right now, so. I will.

I've hit another low point. Not nearly as bad as it was freshman year, not at all. But it's the worst I've been since then. The anxiety is back, and with it, the depression. Of course, all of this only feeds into (and is, in turn, fed by) the ocular migraines I've been having, which also trigger my newly diagnosed Sensory Processing Disorder (otherwise known as Sensory Integration Dysfunction). The good news is, I've seen all my doctors, and I've got everything I need--a fresh prescription of klonopin, a hearty dose of Prozac, and a whole army of vitamins and supplements (Vitamin C, Vitamin D, calcium, Omega-3, and Vitamin B-Complex).

Still, the agoraphobia is there. I try to face it down, but it almost won last time. It didn't, but it was a close contest, so it's frightening. But it's going to be okay, because I'm even more determined this time. I did win last time, even if it was by a hair, and the last eighteen months were... wonderful. I have never in my life felt that good. And I'm going to feel that way again.

Plus I've got a whole slew of new tools. One is prompts that my parents can use if I call them in a panic. Another is the weekly therapy, which I wasn't doing before. I also have a few truly amazing friends at school who I know I can always count on--I'm not as alone as I was freshman year. And I've got goals to keep in mind when I feel like I'm too tired to go on. These include:

- Blowing my Honors Thesis out of the water.
- Going to California within the next two years to see Dono and Tiff and 'Rina and Bek. <3 style="text-align: center;">::::::::::

On another note, I've been watching Showtime's U.S. of Tara, and I have to say, I love Toni Collette.

::::::::::

AND! HOT TIP! In case you didn't know, you can download free tracks from Amazon.com. Not all of them are great, but there are a few pleasant surprises in there. Instructions:

1. Go to Amazon.com.
   
2. Choose 'Digital Downloads' from the sidebar, and in the list that pops up, 'MP3 Downloads.'
3. In the search bar at the top, choose 'MP3 Songs,' and hit 'Go.'
4. Knock yourself out!
   

Official Resolution #1: I will daydream more.

I fell into the habit of thinking I was lonely as a kid because I was usually alone. The thing is, I wasn't lonely. Ever. I had plenty of company in my stories, whether I was thinking them out in my head, or playing them out physically, or even--clumsily--writing them out. My first story was about a girl with no voice who must, nevertheless, save the world from evil. I found my voice while she overcame her own silence.

Through middle school and high school my stories matured, but they were still as vivid and vital as ever, taking over my thoughts. I'm relatively certain they're what kept the anxiety at bay for so long.

I had my iPod on shuffle tonight while working on my Faulkner paper for American Lit, and, right in a row, three of my old favorites came on--the Backstreet Boys, John Mayer, and Snow Patrol. (Yes, I know the latter two are still performing, but these were from old albums.) All three were songs I used to listen to on repeat on my Walkman, working through a scene. I felt fiercely homesick for the simple joy of creating a story for myself.

I need to daydream more. I think it'll be good for me.

A question I've been asking myself a lot lately: Why are we so afraid of lacking depth?

Now, I'm not saying it's a good thing to be shallow. Far from it. People who focus solely on exteriors (and thus, tend to verify the stereotypes created to excuse them) are one of my biggest annoyances. But it seems to me that my generation is terrified of being seen as anything other than a few thousand leagues deep at every given moment.

Think about it: we must have discerning tastes in music and books, or we look down on ourselves (and/or others). We must follow the news obsessively and be prepared to comment on the economics of any given country at a moment's notice. We must never praise our leaders, only point out their flaws. We must only watch serious movies--preferably those that are foreign and/or existential--and, when we watch funny movies, we must watch them ironically, and always have a reason prepared for liking them. I love how it comments on the hypocrisy of today's generation. Well, it does subvert the asinine morals of the day. I read somewhere the director was trying to take a postmodern approach. We're afraid to enjoy anything for what it is.

Don't get me wrong--depth is hardly a bad thing. I read the New York Times online as many times a week as I can, given my schedule; I overanalyze everything I read or watch (hazard of the English major, I suppose); and I take pride in my collection of music, especially when I have a good band not many people have heard of before. I'm guilty of the same things. I'm just as elitist as everyone else in my generation.

But holy idealistic expectations, Batman, it's exhausting.

Thus, I am waging a war on elitism--at least, in myself. Those CDs I commented on before, the ones from high school that I loved before I'd discovered the glories of postmodern-indie-rock and Icelandic post-rock? I'm going to listen to them, and I'm not going to keep the volume down. I'm going to watch The House Bunny instead of The Wrestler (though I desperately want to see that too) and I'm going to enjoy it.

I don't know where I'm going with this, but then, I rarely do. Suffice to say, I enjoy the Backstreet Boys and Sigur Ros equally, and I'm not concerned about who knows it.

It's been a week for nostalgia.

As you may or may not know, my laptop--the dearly departed Gunter, may he rest in peace--left this plane of existence on December the 24th. This was a pretty cruel trick of fate, actually; he'd had his harddrive replaced in late October, and that rather expensive operation was supposed to be my Christmas gift. Luckily, I have the awesomest parents ever, and they deduced (as I had) that being an English major without regular access to Microsoft Word doesn't work very well. Thus, my pretty Satellite.

While I backed up my music about a month before Gunter's last breath, it was in a really abysmal state of disarray. Broken links, duplicates, duplicates that were broken links--it was bad. Thus, I'm fixing up Satellite's iTunes by hand. Which meant (after transferring purchases over) burning all my CDs by hand.

A lot of my old stuff is back at home and safely packed away, but I'd tossed a few poorly labeled mixes into my CD case before heading back. I listened through them while burning the 40+ CDs last night. Man, there was some good stuff in there! I'd forgotten how into Creed I was (okay, so, that's not so good--but it did really take me back), and that one song by Yellowcard I loved. Avril Lavigne, the Backstreet Boys, Sarah McLachlan, The Corrs, Santana, the Lord of the Rings soundtracks--I had truly eclectic taste. And while most of it is pretty banal (and/or pretty bad), it's still fun listening to the soundtrack of my formative years.


On another quasi-nostalgic note: going up to the 13th floor tonight to--for the second night in a row--watch iCarly with Stef. It's not good so much as amusing, in the vaguely wholesome, silly, simple way that Nickelodeon always was. It doesn't put stock in subtlety or subtexts, and that's kind of a relief, with all the reading I've been doing for my major lately.

And did I mention it's silly? Silly is not to be underrated. It can save lives.

make it stop!

It is 1:37am (EST) and I should not be awake. This point was emphasized for me a moment ago, when a Sheryl Crow song came on. I mean, I know Staten Island has horrible radio stations anyway--but Sheryl Crow? Really? You couldn't find anything a smidge better?

Then again, I'm just stationsick for 94.7 The Globe. And, for that matter, for WXPN.

Is it really possible to be stationsick, you ask? Why yes, yes it is, especially when you live in a dorm full of females with shite taste in music.

And that, my good friends, is that.