Dear Diary . . . day by day

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Friday November 3rd - Slap on a blindfold and spin me towards happiness . . .
Burning Man
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Ear update: there were two little holes in my right eardrum when the doctor looked in today. She said that it was probably for the best; that if there was that much pressure, it's better that it drain out two small holes than stay in there; that the eardrum is like tissue paper, and it will fold over and heal eventually.

I imagine my eardrum with two little bite marks near the top, like a vampire's kiss.

She asked if it hurt like hell and I told her about my wailing, crying, fit-having Wednesday. She nodded. Sounds about right, I guess. Should I be comforted? I wish she had warned me that draining it would be so painful, but then she wasn't expecting it to pop like that.

It still hurts, by the way. I'm extremely sensitive to loud noises in that ear. It hurts when I swallow. I decided to work out anyway, because, well, I don't want to lose the one thing I have to be proud of right now. I at least need to maintain. But it's not easy to lift weights with inner ear problems; free weights are scary when you're dizzy.

Anyway, don't want to wallow at you guys too much, but there's really not too much to say. When I got my pills at Planned Parenthood earlier today (no pap; thank goodness, even though I should get one soon) the doctor was all concerned that I take St. John's Wort. She asked me so many questions about depression that I started crying. In the waiting room there had been a computer that listed signs of clinical depression and it was like a checklist for me: Loss of interest in things that used to interest you (including sex). Check. Feeling like you can't do anything well, that you're worthless. Check. Sleeping too much/waking in the middle of the night with depressed thoughts. Check. Thoughts of death or suicide. Check (no, no, I'm not about to off myself. I'm too much of a wimp, and somewhere, deep down inside here, I'm just too stubborn to let go of life like that; I know there's much I don't know yet.)

Anyway, I keep trying to "snap myself out of it" and "stop wallowing" but maybe I should just admit I need help. Well, actually, I've been admitting that for some time now, but lack of funds keeps that not an option. But really, I think I've ceased to function fully. I won't be able to afford to live if I keep this up.

Exercise log:

Thursday: 30 minutes on the elliptical machine. Friday: lifted weights - legs, chest, a little triceps, sides, and abs.


Writing log:

The Many Masks of Halloween in Strange Horizons.


I'm currently reading:

Crazy Time by Kate Wilhelm

Solaris by Stanislaw Lem

Woman: An Intimate Geography by Natalie Angier

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