Optical Allusionist

King of Pain

There's a little black spot on the sun today
It's the same old thing as yesterday
There's a black hat caught in a high tree top
There's a flag-pole rag and the wind won't stop

I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the king of pain

There's a little black spot on the sun today
(That`s my soul up there)
It's the same old thing as yesterday
(That`s my soul up there)
There's a black hat caught in a high tree top
(That`s my soul up there)
There's a flag-pole rag and the wind won't stop
(That`s my soul up there)

I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the king of pain

There's a fossil that's trapped in a high cliff wall
(That`s my soul up there)
There's a dead salmon frozen in a waterfall
(That`s my soul up there)
There's a blue whale beached by a spring tide's ebb
(That`s my soul up there)
There's a butterfly trapped in a spider's web
(That`s my soul up there)

I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the king of pain

There's a king on a throne with his eyes torn out
There's a blind man looking for a shadow of doubt
There's a rich man sleeping on a golden bed
There's a skeleton choking on a crust of bread

King of pain

There's a red fox torn by a huntsman's pack
There's a black-winged gull with a broken back
There's a little black spot on the sun today
It's the same old thing as yesterday

I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the king of pain

King of pain
I'll always be king of pain
I'll always be king of pain

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I have this thing about not being in control. So, I've never really considered myself to be a control freak, but I guess when it comes to my life, I tend to need that sense of being in charge. (I'm supposed to call it "being in charge", rather than "being in control") So, after a month of things spiraling out of control, I could feel myself beginning to break. But I held on as long as I could, being as productive as possible. I did everything I could think of to keep my head above the rapids. As I got further, and further along down the road, however, the methods I'd used often (and had helped, just as often) began to help less and less, until they weren't helpful at all. Singing to Regina Spektor, spending some time watching a fun show on television, taking a walk, taking midnight runs, they just aren't helping as much as they used to. I still do them all, but they continue to not help. Yay. So, I've been discovering, well, trying to, at least, different ways to deal with the depression, fear, and anxiety.

Even so, I could continue to feel my functionality breaking, more and more. I have been continually continuing in the work, personally, spiritually, emotionally, physically, and publicly. But it's hard when you're literally drowning in grief and fear (so much so, that you can't sleep) until 3 or 4 in the morning, and then dead until 1 or 2 in the afternoon. I know I need a better sleep schedule, but it's so scary at night, that I need a friend. Fortunately I have an amazing support system. I don't feel so alone, anymore. But that doesn't make all the pain go away. It just makes the pain... different. Guess what? I can barely function now. My room's a mess. I've got to find a job, pronto. My life's a mess. I don't have a brain that will pay attention enough to the things it needs to. I have to be über careful about what I do, that might amp up my depression, guilt, or anxiety. I'm really quiet about it, though, this time.

Last year was hell. After the freak out with Devin (sigh, loooong story), Andrew (sexual harassment at work, boss took his side, said I was "picking on him" by filing the complaint, and that I was overreacting, and... well... that's a long story too, exasperated sigh), and losing Bishop Thomas in a sudden car accident, I spiraled out of control in the extreme. I had been fairly happy, and then, literally, two days later, I could barely function from the guilt, grief, depression, fear, and anger. I had to drop out of school, and almost went to an institution because of how bad it had gotten. I was struggling to stay alive, literally. That's not how it is now. I mean, it's hard to want to live, much less like living, when your life's so saturated with pain as mine has been the past couple weeks, but don't worry about me killing myself! Not gonna happen. Anyway, what I was gonna say was that when last year occurred, I was so frightened by how depressed I was, that I basically told everyone everything. It's not been like that this year. I mean, seriously, it's pretty embarrassing. Last year I had my freak out session, so I'm not entitled to any more, right???

People try to understand. Friends try to help. But sometimes... they're not as big of a help as they try to be. :) Sad day, right? Sometimes we forget how debilitating depression or anxiety problems can be. LITERALLY, they can be as debilitating as cancer, diabetes, or a heart attack. Seriously. They are an illness, not a state of mind. I've been fervently trying to remind myself of that, as my functionality has been breaking, trying not to blame myself for things I can't quite control right now. Sure, I can do what I can to live as healthily (emotionally, physically, etc) as I can, so I don't get a reinstitution of depression or cancer, but y'wouldn't blame a person if they got another wave of cancer, would you? So... work on not blaming someone with depression, who is doing whatever they can. I mean, if somebody's got cancer, and they're blaming the cancer for everything, but they're not doing anything about it... well, they can't be blamed for having the cancer, but they sure as hell oughta do something about it. So... the fact that I have depression? Not my fault. The fact that I am continuing to have severe bouts of depression, concerning the past couple weeks? Actually, I don't think that's my fault either, since I sincerely am doing everything I can to get of this. Do you think I like being here? I am hoping. I am living. I am trying.

And that's about all I can do right now-- try to survive.

So, yeah, I guess this blog would count as being a little more open about the problems I've been having. I'm actually not entirely sure what the objective of this blog was... maybe to help people understand? I'm not really sure. Cause if you haven't had anxiety, or depression, I'm sorry, but you can't understand. It's something totally different than anything I've dealt with before. Anyway... yeah. :) Some things I have learned from having depression:

* Things always get better
* It is totally worth it, to keep trying as hard as you can
* Stay with the Lord. He loves you!

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November 9, 2007

Sometimes I wonder if I'm a failure in the eyes of my 10 year old self. The first time I thought that was when I read a story I began to write as a fifth grader. The story was about me as an 18 year old (Hey, that's me!) - an age I thought I'd never reach- and how I had "many boyfriends" and was ready to be married!! (rolling eyes with a tinge of a smile.) I'm a few months away from 19, and have had no boyfriends- nobody even close- and am definitely not ready to be married. I'm beginning to wonder how I'd see myself if I could look from the outside in. ... I never thought I'd get here. I thought I could bypass the trouble I'm staring at. I was running, sprinting, doing anything I could just to be away from having to seriously sit down with myself and say "LISTEN to me! You have to stop running and turn around and face whatever you're running from." and here I am facing it... I wonder if this could have been headed off...

Do any of you reading this-- if there is anyone-- know what true depression feels like? Not the regular downs of the day, but true solid, sinking depression. A feeling that makes your heart so heavy it drops to your toes, hollowing you out as it goes? Do you know what panic attacks feel like? True anxiety? Where the only thing you can think about is running from the place you're at. Why do I feel that way every Relief Society lesson? I'm doing what I need to. I'm not bad. I'm not perfect, but I'm doing very good. I think I'm scared of doing something that would lose the approval of my fellow Sisters, because I fought so hard for the appreciation I wanted in the Laurels, when I was there. It's funny. now that I'm out, I feel closer to Ashley, Elsa, and many of the Beehives. Sevey, Gretchen, Erin, Erin's twin whom I can't remember that's-really-sad-oops, and the several Jessicas. Matthew, my boss, calls them my fan club because whenever they see me at the junior high-- where I work as a custodian--, they run over, give me hugs, ask me how I'm doing, and want to tell me their own news.

But I digress...It's almost 12:30, which means I've got class in almost 8 hours. Sleep sounds nice, but only just dulls the sharp fatigue I've felt since Devin said those things to me... I think that was almost a month ago. CAn you believe it? I'm so weak, so frail, which is disappointing but eye-opening. Caitlin and I were speaking, and she pointed out that it's better for me to get help now than to try to get help as a 30 or 40 year old mother. She's right, too... I just never thought I'd get help this way.

I always imagined myself in counseling. I've known I needed it for a while. So, that wasn't odd when I started going to that a couple years ago, although it was a little bit of a surprise that it took as long as it did- and an incident as serious as it did- to get my parents to get me in somewhere.

But this is something I never pictured for myself. I quit. I quit school, Ashley. You asked me today what I was doing and I was so ashamed that I lied. As of today, I am only taking my easy-peasy-one-two-threesy health class, and my two institute classes. So, I guess I am going to school... but not what I had pictured. Sigh, not what I had pictured. I won't explain why I quit so suddenly. The easiest way to say it is that I got too overwhelmed, and too depressed, and had to get the biggest stress out of my life before I took an alternative, which there are many options in terms of alternatives. Isn't it funny? Here I am, going to institute and health, and looking for an institution and healing. How humorous.

It's too late for me to write this, but its the only time I begin to feel when I'm here at home. My home is an allusion. But no matter. Its time for me to leave you to sleep, and me to sleep, as well. Ahhhh, sleep. How wonderful it feels until the dreams come... To sleep, perchance to dream.

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January 19, 2008


I'm not here to say that everybody needs to live a certain way. For heaven's sake, I don't want to ring of that world in "A Wrinkle In Time" where boys bounce balls in sync. But I feel like a "recoiled monster" in Mormon Happy Valley culture. I'm almost 19. Not too old, but not too young either-- by my standards. I'm feeling rebellious and scared. I want to move to California, where I don't have to feel so ridiculously careful about what I say or do because someone may think I've done wrong by considering to be a sex therapist, or a urologist, or my concentration-- some have mispokenly said "obsession"-- with rape and sexual abuse. I don't want to live in a culture where it's a 'sin' to read "Reviving Ophelia" a book that --briefly-- addresses sexuality and sexual violence. I've been reprimanded by it, and I'm sick of that. Sigh, let me explain. I'm not angry right now. I'm just tired. Tired of living in a culture where I grew up believing it was against my religion to go to a "sex crazed" sex therapist. Tired of living in a valley where I'm thrown out for making a fight against sexual violence my crusade, simply because it has a vague connection to sex or sexuality.

I feel like I'm on tenderhooks. Whereas my parents never spoke about sex, and gave me a vague meaning when I was 9 after I asked, now they're comfortable with me suggesting I buy a book to help me understand sexuality through God's eyes, or bringing up the fact that I'm considering taking a Human Sexuality class next semester. I'm tired of being condemned for wanting to watch Dakota Fanning's movie "Hounddog" because it has a mild scene of child rape in it.

Everyone is a sexual human being. Everyone has body parts that aide a personalized sexuality. Everyone thinks about sex and sexuality. So why do we find it so hard to be the least bit open? Why are there so many words that I wouldn't dare say in front of the best of friends, but I feel fine about saying "I hurt my arm" or "Man, my head hurts"? Everyone is a sexual human being.

Like I said, I'm feeling rebellious. Ready to become a urologist just because so many men become gynecologists without a bat of an eye. Ready to learn everything about my body, and every body around me. Ready to talk with someone about sex. Ready to say something "unorthodox" simply to get the reaction I know I will. Why is it so hard to talk about when everyone has it, everyone does it, everyone is?

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January 26, 2008


Lately, life has been reminding me of those awkward pauses where you can hear the humming of the fluorescent lights. I'm a whir of angry, despaired emotion. Maybe it's just winter time. Maybe it's that I'm working more, so I'm tired. Maybe it's prolonged pms. Maybe it's just that I'm a whiner.

I write a teacher twice who I adore, and she never writes back. I comment on a couple of her notes, and she never takes notice. I write a "how are you" email, and I don't hear anything from her.

On the other hand, I write a note on a teacher's whiteboard, and she emails me the most welcoming thing I've heard all week.

I'm spit-fire angry at a friend, but because of my own impatience. It hurts to not be needed. I swear this happens every time. Every time I get into a friendship, sooner or later, I need them 100 times more than they will ever need me again. For a week or so I've been the only one contacting, and when I did, it was only about half the time that she replied. So, finally, I decided to wait for her to come to me. And she finally did today.

On the other hand, there are other friends that I've ignored in my own day, too. I've done exactly what she's doing.

I've not been attending public activities as I usually do. In the beginning, it was church. That was, though, because of some problems I've been having with anxiety. But lately, I have such a hard time getting up and going. There's nothing for me there anymore. I don't feel like I have anything to go for. I'm so mad! I can't even sit inside because I'll freak and not be able to enjoy the lessons!! So I have to sit outside like an awkward loner and then watch as the late comers file into the "chapel" as I sit out in the foyer. I hate going. I hate it.

isn't it ironic? here i am, withdrawing from everyone I know, and yet reaching out to a few people I need, and I'm so lonely. I'm so lonely. And i'm so tired. I want to have a real discussion with someone!! Can anyone give me that? Two minutes of your time to talk? Are you reading this thinking, "Man, she IS a whiner"? Maybe I am. And maybe that's because I need someone to listen. I don't need to need someone. I need someone to need me. I need to know I'm needed. That there's a reason for me to stay. That there's a reason for me to keep going to church, other than feel the Spirit. I need to know someone loves me. Someone I can see in front of me.

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February 29, 2008


Tonight, I'm in a fog. It feels like Devin was a bad dream, and that I've awoken from my worst nightmare, and here I am in the Land of Normalcy. For me, the Land of Normalcy is a place free of unreasonable depression or anxiety or irritability. It isn't perfect, but it isn't.... bad either, because it isn't horrible. But at the same time, I feel a cloaked sadness. Is it because it's late, and I always get more depressed, the more late it gets? Perhaps there's a part of me that doesn't think normalcy can last. I want to write the truth, but few people want to hear that. And telling the truth in such a outrageous way, well, it doesn't help ultimately. I want someone to hug me and kiss me and tell me they love me and tell me they'll never leave me, and for me to know that in my heart. To know that I will always have someone close to fall back on. I feel like I'm 13 again, my hormones pushing me to find male companionship.

I've been getting angry at a lot of people so easily lately. I'm angry at Devin, that dad-blamed-fool! I'm angry with Lynz. I'm angry with Chalice, Sara, with mom, with Dad. I'm angry with anyone I can get my anger on. And I kind of wonder if I'm missing the mark? Who am i really angry at? Am I really angry at Chalice for having her own legitimate opinion about Phillip Pullman's series? Am I really angry with Devin for something I'm over-- in reference to him? And then the most horrifying question of all--- Am I actually angry at... Mike? And another horrifying question--- Am I actually angry at... myself? It hurts more to think I could be angry at Mike, than to think of being angry at myself. Mike never wrote back, Shelly, so get a grip. Mike's engaged. Maybe that's why I'm angry. I DON'T KNOW THOUGH!!! How can I expect to psychoanalyze myself?? There're too many possibilities!!!! Why do I feel... happier, and yet at the same time I feel like I'm rotting from the inside out???

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