just take a good look, and heads will roll

[raven]

So, I am not crazy. This is new. (To start with, I'm listening to Cher. Although that's really not my fault, there are extenuating circumstances which can be summed up by "narahttbbs".)

Ah, shit. Yesterday was a long and difficult day. (Seriously, at one point I was convinced it had been Monday for weeks.) But today's another day. As usual. As usual today's better than yesterday, which was not better than the day before, but if you strike yesterday from the record, it's been an upward trend. So yay for that, etc.

I gathered a few opinions, anyway, and the results were varied. The college nurse, when I asked sincerely if I was crazy, gave me a long hard look and said, "Of course you are. You're a Balliol PPEist." Apparently, her considered opinion is that the tutors select a crop of mentally unbalanced people, throw them into a confined environment together and use them as a social experiment in Bedlam.

I asked my friends if I'm crazy. They said of course I wasn't. Maria said, again sincerely, "You're the sanest person I've ever met." I asked what she meant by that, and she explained that I don't, as far as she knows, exhibit any type of inconsistent behaviour. I'm not sure if this is true, but I was touched regardless.

Finally, I asked Pedar. I hadn't told him any of this, and I ended up telling him all of it tonight in one quasi-hysterical go. He listened very patiently, and then said, "As you are well aware, I am a Bachelor of Medicine and Surgery, and I hold several post-graduate degrees..."

"Yes?"

"...in various specialities of clinical medicine, and in education, and..."

"Is there a point to this?" I asked.

"...and in reproductive ethics," he continued indomitably, "and furthermore, in addition to that, you have been my only daughter for twenty years. If you were crazy, don't you think I would have noticed by now?"

"Right," I said. "Yeah, okay."

And that's that, I guess. Although I spent most of yesterday quite spectacularly unhinged, I am a sane human being. And I apologise for babbling about it, but this is my life right now: piecing together the fact that I'm still here, and able to write about it. Because I am, so there. Today I got out of bed, wandered around the city, went to assure the usual people that my mental health has survived another week, and then, well, did something entirely sane and went for a picnic in the University Parks.

"You do know it's January?" Claire wanted to know. "You do know it's really cold? Are you mad?"

In which case, I said, it was a folie a deux, because I went with thecapitalc and enjoyed myself thoroughly. We went through the Keble entrance to the Parks and walked down to the river to eat bread and cookies and watch the ducks engage in complicated mating rituals.

And though it was a great deal of fun catching up, we have agreed that next time we should probably meet in a coffee shop or some such location with modern amenities, for example central heating.

I was supposed to read some of Locke and Berkeley this afternoon, but that didn't quite happen. Instead I kept falling asleep, which is I believe the last symptom that I am yet to shake from this episode, but I managed to write an essay I started yesterday and couldn't finish. It's an essay about the validity of globalisation as a theoretical concept - at least, I think it is; I have no idea, really - and bears the marks of having been started by a crazy person and finished off by someone slightly saner. God, yesterday was awful. I'm reluctant to write about why, because I'd rather not think about it, but it's probably sufficient to say it featured my being quite almost, but not quite, unjustifiably irrational, and horribly upset and frightened, but I'm more or less over it now, by virtue of a night and a better day. You see, I'm still here? I'm still here. I'm always going to still be here.

I finished off the essay. It's rubbish, but it's done, and Claire, Ben and I went to Jericho G&D's for reasons of celebration of essay-finishing - my essay is about 1000 words too short, and Claire's equally long - and for making Ben feel better, as he is ill again and being shamelessly blackmailed into drinking Lemsip. (Claire is still of the opinion that he genuinely doesn't know it has paracetamol in it, and that's the only reason he drinks it; I pointed out that this might be because we buy it, keep it, make it up for him and feed it to him, and he's never once seen the box it comes in.) Having slept on my bed and also on Claire's for most of the evening, he perked up on the way to Jericho and we were talking about our now infamous planned roadtrip across the United States to see the World's Largest Ball of Twine.

Speaking of which, my housing arrangements are sorted for next year. After spending this year being the Schrodinger's flatmate, Ben is actually living with us next year properly - we're hoping to stay in this flat or get one very similar, and it will be the same set of people plus one more, a girl called Laura whom I don't know very well. By all accounts it looks like it'll be a good set-up, and I've liked my living arrangements this year very much, so all should be well.

(This morning the scout came in to have a word with Claire, or so she related to me later. Clare said she thought she must be in some kind of trouble, but instead, the scout came in and whispered, "There's a strange boy in the kitchen! He's made himself a cup of coffee!"

Somewhat amused, Claire wandered into the kitchen to find a very sleepy Ben demanding "someone make that woman stop shouting at me."

Poor boy. He's not having a good day.)

We got in from G&D's about half twelve, to find the rest of the flat in the kitchen talking about, of all things, how Vulcans have sex.

"Every seven years," James and I said simultaneously into a dead silence. "Pon farr."

To stunned laughter from the rest of the contingent, and Maria buried her head in her hands. James is that rare thing, a non-fannish geek. Despite being quite adamant that he is not a fangirl (I'm sorry, but "fanboy" is no fun to say and James dislikes binary gender distinctions), he knows far too much about HP fic, BSG continuity, and Enterprise schematics: within a few seconds, he'd come up with a decent account of every Vulcan in the franchise who has ever succumbed to the condition. At which point we got to arguing about which of the series is the best and worst, and Maria was looking like a stunned observer at a tennis match. Apparently before I came along, he didn't expose his geeky side.

Tomorrow I need to help him work out a primer in Star Trek for the beginner - poor, poor Maria - dose Ben with some more Lemsip and talk him out of going to rehearsal, read three chapters of Locke and return my library books. I'm okay, I'm managing.

Comments

[walkertxkitty.livejournal.com]

I don't think that "crazy" is quite the term I would put to it. I've been watching for several years now and I've come to the conclusion that 1) you don't deal with last minute pressure well and 2) you don't seem to deal with winter in general well. It might be worth your time to get some of those specially designed lights which emit the same frequency as sunlight to see if that helps. As for the first, I see you growing and dealing with it better each year. Eventually, though you may never like it, I believe you will conquer your tendency to cave, panic, and then worry yourself into knots.

If you're still concerned about it in a year or so, it's worth it to talk to a psychologist. The worst that happens is you find it a complete waste of your time.

Gotta love a geekfest! I'm not hard core Star Trek but I know more about it than most have any right to do.

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

All Oxford pressure is last-minute pressure. The entire place does everything at the last minute. I've not been able to help learning to deal. (Terrible grammar, but you know what I mean. And thank you.)

They have referred me to the university psychs/counsellors, and it's done much more harm than good. So far, I'm okay on my own. I don't think I need outside help just yet. Maybe some day, but definitely not now.

[insaneizzi.livejournal.com]

Completely OT, but did you get my card? (I did post it before your birthday, erm, by one day.

And I realise something is missing from it, but don't worry, I didn't forget. It just didn't fit in the envelope. :D

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

I did get your card! Just yesterday, in fact. Thank you very much indeed. I haven't yet tried making myself a butterfly, and I really should.

[insaneizzi.livejournal.com]

Yay! I was worried in a tau_sigma kind of way that it had got lost in the mail. Darn her implanting that idea in my head!

[gamesiplay.livejournal.com]

Heeeee. Scarily, I had almost that exact same pon-farr conversation the other week. A group of us was watching The Daily Show, and Jon Stewart got Leonard Nimoy on the phone (no, I don't know either). Leonard Nimoy began talking about the possibility of Vulcan irrationality, which lead to his saying, "For example--" and then me cutting him off and yelling gleefully, "Pon farr!"

Silence in the room.

"Featured," said Leonard, "in the episode--"

"'AMOK TIME'!"

Cue nine months' worth of pregnant silence, and then me sliding down in my chair so that my head was no longer visible to my companions.

ALSO, just the other night we listened to William Shatner doing "Common People" and "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," and all I could think of was clinging to my desk in the Chicago apartment, laughing helplessly as we introduced Meredith to the wonderful world of Shatnerian musical stylings.

In summation, you are not crazy at all, or only insofar as the best people are crazy. Anyone who appreciates the wonder of pon farr and Shatner, as you do, can only be the good kind of crazy.

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

Heeeee! After a bit, the conversation did move in a Shatnerish direction. James and I caught each other's eyes and, in unison, burst out into: "Bilbo! Bilbo! Bilbo Baggins!" I wish you'd been there to see people's faces.

Okay, I just put "Lucy" on and now I'm sitting here with my mouth open because I can't stop laughing. Good kind of crazy, oh yeah.

[amchau.livejournal.com]

You're not crazy. A little eccentric (in a good way), maybe, but not really crazy.

If I were writing a Star Trek primer, I would be so tempted to start by scaring my pupil(s). "Good afternoon, class. The textbooks for this module are Conversational Klingon, The Star Trek Encyclopedia and all 716 episodes on DVD."

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

Thank you. I think I'm just about convinced, now. Just about. A few more bad days and I may lose my final marble, but hopefully not.

That said, 716 episodes of Trek on DVD would probably prompt the same reaction. Seriously? There are 716 episodes?

[amchau.livejournal.com]

When I think I'm about to lose my final marble, I often discover that there were more, which someone had cunning hidden at the back of the sofa or under the bed. (This suggests that I don't clean my mind regularly, which is probably true. Now I'm wondering if all those unstarted stories, like the one about the real Elvis being well and happy working as an Elvis impersonator, and the Jack/Daniel/Thor Mpreg, are also down the back of my mind's sofa. But I disgress.)

Yes, there are 716 episodes. I remembered 'about 700', and added them up from an episode list. The count includes all five major series and the animated episodes (22 of them are animated). I confess I didn't check whether they've all been released on DVD, but on the other hand I didn't include the movies, either.

[chiasmata]

Good - glad you're doing better.

Want coffee at some point this week?

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

Love to! When are you free? I'm free most times that are not tomorrow and Friday morning...

[chiasmata]

Eep! Sorry, I meant to reply to this to say it was probably better to wait until you were feeling better, and then promptly forgot... Sorry, again: that was rubbish of me. I'm free this evening until my library shift at 8; not sure what the rest of the week's looking like, yet... How about you?

[tmpe5t.livejournal.com]

Brilliant Pedar answer, love that... :_D And (probably unhelpfully) is the kind of work answer i get all the time from the programmers at work, who spout loads of babble about how they've re-aligned the warp coil phase inverters and reversed the polarity of the neutron flow (well, it turns up in my short-term memory as that, it has words like "_obj" and "obfuscate" in), then smugly go: "and you will find that if you now click the... Oh."

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

Geeks are love. :)

[tmpe5t.livejournal.com]

I'll tell them that next time i want them to mend something... :_D

[emily-shore.livejournal.com]

I'm not sure I'm willing to entirely accept the blame for the Cher. You're the one who wanted to watch the episode. ;)

And I'm glad that you're feeling better (again). I'm sure you have plenty of friends to lean on, but I'm always just across the field if you need to talk.

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

*laughs* Yeah, but. But but but. It cannot be my fault I'm listening to Cher. It really can't. I refuse to accept it.

Thank you. I'm likely to have more days like this, some good, some bad, so I really do appreciate that.

[tau_sigma]

There's the clichéd thing of as long as you're questioning your sanity, you're probably ok, and I think it's probably fairly true. Also, most of the world is probably crazy by some definition, so does it really matter? Hmm.

I'm glad things are still generally better, anyway. :) And picnic in winter! Generally when I suggest things like this, people flat out refuse. (Admittedly, they probably have a point, but still ... *sigh*)

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

Yes, I had wondered about that. As long as I'm asking everyone if I'm mental, I'm probably not. And I'm glad of that. Part of my miniature freak-out on Monday was to do with someone having prompted the suggestion that I might have been crazy ALL THIS TIME. If so, well, I think it's okay if I stay that way. I think.

thecapitalc and I have made a tradition of never having had picnics in the summer months. I now have a new appreciation for central heating and gloves. And respect for ducks!

[pinkdormouse.livejournal.com]

Your Pedar rocks, and you're even busier than me. The latter does not compute.

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

He really does. And, oh, my, my life remains far too busy. I guess that is an incentive to continue to function, because so much goes undone if you don't.

[pinkdormouse.livejournal.com]

I guess that is an incentive to continue to function, because so much goes undone if you don't.

I know that feeling all too well. Good luck!