A must-see for any train or photography fans. It’s a group photography project on trains by the Utata group on flickr.

Feel the trains, baby!

I mean, I really should’ve ages ago.

This is what’s going on.

*sigh*

Total Upheaval.

Aside from that…

I mean, I lost my job illegally and have to file a lawsuit. My meds got Totally Figured Out, so at least I have that. Semi-boyfriend cut ties the same day I lost my job–but a week later I’ve got Nathan. Providence, maybe. Beats me. *grin* But works for me, anyhow.

I’ve got fencing, too. LOVE fencing. Just moved to intermediate, classes twice a week.

EMT class starts July 5.

Still in school though am on summer break.

Hmm…

Here we go. Updated damn blog.

Am doing an independent study in biopsych. I get to do a literature review on fMRI imaging in dysfunctional sensory integration. That will slide right into the research proposal I have to write for my research methods class for a research experiment. I need to actually figure out a way to DO said experiment.

Oh.

And I want to get my PhD.

And I might go to Peru this summer. Maybe. We’ll see.

Yesterday I banked on the weather cancelling class again.

It didn’t.

I was half an hour late. Bad me. But class went well and I wish we could have this professor longer, ESPECIALLY after the shitty one we our last class. Holy poo.

After class I had to rush home, clean stuff up, eat some sort of lunch, and get over to McIntyre to snowboard with Rena and her Noho crew. They’re nice folks, I think. Mike is Rena’s S.O. and cute. Very. Rena needs to find me one of those, dammit. Also along were Brian and Rachel, whom Rena kept calling Becky.

I never found out WHY.

We went boarding till about 4:30. Rena and Mike went with me and Rachel to ride the big hill. I had yet to master the ability to dismount from the ski lift without falling down and causing a big scene. Rena rode with me, I did it that way because she also had yet to master the art of NOT falling and we provided spectacular entertainment for the lift operators. Apparently the bottom crew started radioing the top crew to tell them we were on our way. o_O

At the end I figured out how to get off the lift without falling and kept trying to catch Rena. I did one time and it looked like we hugged/danced our way off the lift. Yay! We did it!

So we traipsed off back to my apartment, where I found out that New Crazy Neighbor (NCN) had let one of his guests YET AGAIN take my damn parking spot, the fourth time since he became my NCN. This is only days after he’d varnished his floors, left his windows closed, set up fans to blow the fumes into the front hallway, and filled MY apartment with fumes so that I had to open MY windows or not be able to breathe.

Rrrrrrrrrr.

So we’re all chatting in my living room as we trade off time to change in my bathroom (I hope it was clean enough o_O), and NCN just OPENS my front door (the one that goes into the front shared hallway that we never lock in case we lock ourselves out and because the front door to the building is never used and has two deadbolts and a lock).

He says, “Did you just move in?”

Me. “I’ve lived here for almost two years.”

Him. “Oh, I thought the landlord was up here.”

Me. “No…”

Him. “I opened the wrong door. I’m the guy downstairs.”

I’m thinking fucking DUH.

*sigh*

He didn’t even KNOCK!

Needless to say, my front door is now locked. Dammit.

So the group of us go off to St. A’s to hit up the pub and show off our school.

Rena’s journal has a good account of that

After the noho crew left, I came home, changed, and collapsed into my bed. I promptly fell asleep (around eight I think) and didn’t wake up till Evil Sexy Ben called and woke me up around 11:30.

Then I played scrabble online and got the crap kicked out of me.

Never Play Scrabble Without Ritalin, Jamie.

Busy week has drawn to a close. Returning to work went well, my clients don’t seem any worse for wear, and the powers that be (at work) are pleased that I’m back.

And STABLE, I’ll be damned. Two good “normal” days so far. Let’s see if this keeps up. The difference between the moods is very stark, but not recognizable until you’re out of them. It’s hard to explain just how it feels to constantly think about dying, to become completely reckless with your life and body and physical well being, to just give up. To be irritable and angry and pissed off at everything and everyone, or break down in tears. To be full of boundless energy and want to withdraw at the same time.

Mixed episodes suck. At times, I wish I could have a happy manic episode.

Spoken like a true bipolar.

Of course, there’s still rolls from between then and now. I got a shot of the Old Man in the Mountain from April 26th, a week before he took his tumble. Shots from the Mount Major hike, too.

I still need to type in that fifth chapter. Gah. And start really figuring out how to write up Carpetbagger.

And wash dishes? What?

I’m not sleepy right now. And I SHOULD be. This isn’t good. Been irritable and paranoid and angry and blah today. *frown*

I’ll go play with the website more.

Today was spent bummin’ around with friends and plying them to drink since I can’t. They also induced my fear of aliens by having me watch Signs. Bastards. Good friends, though. Finally shooed them away so I can play with the scanner more. I have sheets of the archival negative sheets to plow through and the last 10 newly processed negatives and contact sheets should arrive either Tuesday or Wednesday of next week. Gotta get these old ones up first! Ack! Oh, and that pesky job thing keeps getting in the way.

I wrote the fifth chapter of Awaken the Sleeping Gods while I stayed at lovely CMC. At some point I’ll type that in, but these photos I’ve been waiting months and months for take precedence. Darkroom work really is like an addiction.

Off to bed. Now without the mania, I actually get sleepy and bleary eyed.

And. On Friday, the film scanner arrived! It’s like Christmas. I am now scanning all the film from the trip. Plus other film. And then playing with it on Adobe. It’s like a digital darkroom. Woohoo!

Of course, not before finding a new job at the Community Council of Nashua. I’m part of the clinical staff there as a case manager. Business cards, nameplate on door, even have to keep a damn appointment book. Feels very stange, like I’m a ten year old playing dress-up. Great job though. Love working with the kids, me being in the Child and Adolescent Unit. Strange, how I can’t seem to get away from kids. Like it’s meant that I’m to work with them. S’okay. It’s fun. Means I get to play with toys and get paid for it!

About the bipolar stuff. Mood shit got weird near the end of October. By the end of November, I’d gotten admitted to the damn hospital again. I stayed for less than 24 hours (thank God). Psychiatrist diagnosed me with bipolar disorder instead of major depressive disorder. I think it sucks. Depression meant I could stop seeing a therapist and stop medication and be okay and normal and all that shit, right? Instead, I’ve got this chronic, lifetime condition that I’m supposed to take medication for to keep stable. Only, the medication really fucks me up, makes me a zombie, has this HUGE potential for weight gain (did I mention I’ve lost like thirty pounds? Look) and makes me go stupid.

Take your life as it is.

Turn it upside down.

Do some headbanging.

Your hiccups have stopped, but you need to remain like this unless you want them to return.

Sorta like what this feels like now, only I KNOW, being in the mental health field, that the mood swings aren’t hiccups. They’re very dangerous (obviously, since apparently I have this stupid and embarassing tendency towards suicidality). I can’t even be a HAPPY damn manic. Instead, I get shitty mixed episodes where I’m paranoid, irritable, have boundless energy, and want to die.

What fun.

Anyway. I went through four therapists between Todd and the current doc. This one is good I think, comes recommended by Finn. I have an evaluation with a new psychiatrist in the beginning of June, so I can get a firm diagnosis. We’ll see.

I just have to knock off the current round of suicidality. I have a plan set and in place and ready to rock n roll at any time. How fucked up is THAT?