Depression and Self-Harm

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Let me preface this post with the note that I do not cut myself.  I do not self harm that way.

So how do I do it?  By picking my pimples. Yes, that is considered self harm behavior.

My face is very discoloured under my chin from picking at the pimples there.  I am trying to break myself of the habit, but I think it does two things for me.  It gives me ‘worry spots’ and, in some odd way, it sooths me.

I don’t just pick my face.  I pick anything on my body that’s pickable.  I had a very odd cut on my upper right arm that I picked the scab on.  I pick in grown hairs on my knees.  Anything I can get my fingernails into, I pick.

Its gross.  I know its gross.  And I try very hard to not do it in public. Or even in front of my husband.  But I also don’t always realize I’m doing it.

I am not sure I will ever be able to stop completely.  Even when I am at my most stable, I do it.  Some people rock in place to sooth.  I pick.

Now That’s What I Call a Productive Morning…

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Started at 8:30 with laundry folding.  Went on to final bookcase building.  Finished with deep bathroom cleaning (both bathrooms) and rounded it off with a lovely soak in the tub.

Now I am going to help Simon carry empty boxes and other rubbish to the bins in the basement and then curl up and have a lovely Sunday Afternoon Nap (TM).

In other news, I am going back on my ‘c food diet’.  That mean, basically, no foods that begin with the letter c.  No chips or crisps or chocolate or cookies or curries or cola.  Carrots and Coriander are okay!

I Don’t Want To Spoil Anyone

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but I have to point out that in this week’s Doctor Who, its the PA who figures out there what the really weird thing is that is going on!

Once again, I have to point out…Don’t mess with the PA!

This PA, the one writing this blog, kicked ass herself on Friday at work.  Managed to copy, bind and get into envelopes all the Board Papers within 30 minutes.  That’s cuz me and my team rock!

In other news…have two big nights planned over the next two months.  End of May we’re having a reunion drink up at work.  I’ve invited all our old staff to join us for some food and booze.  Should be good criac.

Then at the beginning of June is our yearly Charity Pub Quiz.  Also should be good craic.  Our charity this year is the Darwin200, which celebrates Darwin’s 200th birthday next year.  Very sciencey of us, don’t you think?

If You Had Been a Fly on My Office Wall

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the other day, you would think we don’t speak English. We are gearing up for a big VIP visit and were discussing the guest list. It made perfect sense to myself, my DFA and my DCR&F. But to an outsider? It probably sounded like this:

Me: HYA
DFA: ULT
DCR&F: FXR
DFA: MBG

And so on.  Pretty much the entire conversation was Acronyms.  (NOTE: Not one of the above acronyms is actually one we said.  Thank you.).

Spring Might Have Finally Arrived

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At least I think its fairly nice out this morning.  It is at least very still, which it hasn’t been for weeks.

I may bite the bullet (and why on earth would anyone actually bite a bullet?) and wear my spring cape today rather than my big winter coat.  I may get a bit cold waiting for the bus, but at least I won’t be hot waiting for the bus this afternoon.

Which reminds me about something I wanted to write about…

The other day I was walking home from the bus stop.  It must have been last Thursday because Simon works late on Thursdays and, therefore, doesn’t meet me at the bus stop when I get home.  So I was walking alone.  And watching the people.

All of them were in a hurry.  Just rushing down the street to get to their next activity.  Why? What’s the big hurry?  Isn’t the journey worth the trouble to slow down?  I always walk a bit slowly, especially on my way home from the bus after work.  I like to look around.  See what’s new.  Are there leaves on the trees?  How’s the construction on the neighborhood church going? Wow, that’s a cool car.

People really don’t watch the world.  I find that sad.  It is ever changing, even in the middle of City Centre of Belfast.  The other day I was looking out the window in our front room and noticed that out of 10 cars parked on the street, 9 of them were red.  When I looked again about an hour later?  9 of them were blue.  I find that fascinating.

So.Stop.Look.At.The.World.  Who knows what you might be missing…

Depression and Getting Things Done

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Well, I would say the meds don’t work.  I had lots of plans for this weekend.  Building the final bookcase.  Cleaning the flat.

Neither of these things happened.  I spent most of today asleep.  I did do some stuff yesterday, but not as much as I was hoping to do.

I hate it when I get like this, even though I know I can’t help it.  And I guess it is better to do it on the weekend, rather than during the week. I will go to work tomorrow.  I have to.  I have a meeting and board papers to write.  I have to be there.  People are relying on me.

Simon relies on me as well, but the basic stuff is done.  Clothes are clean.  Groceries are ordered for the week.  We had a nice dinner.

But I still feel bad that I didn’t get more done this weekend.

I’m sure I’ll get over it.

On Being Jewish in a Christian Country

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So tonight is the first night of Passover.  What does that mean to me, a Jew in a Christian country?

Not a hell of a lot, actually.  I haven’t been to a Seder in, gosh, about 5 years.  The last one I was at was with my mother in Florida at a friend’s house.

I am not an observant Jew.  I do not keep kosher.  I do not observe the Sabbath.  I do not go to Temple.

There is a small Jewish community here in Belfast.  I know one other Jew, a woman I used to work with.  Other than that?  My being Jewish doesn’t affect anything.

Okay, so that’s not entirely true.  When I got married, I insisted that my veil cover my hair as completely as possible during the ceremony.  That was important to me on that day.

Oh and I skew the stats for our Fair Employment Paperwork, since I am the only one in my office who does not check off either Catholic or Protestant, but Other, on the form.  (yes, in NI, those are the 3 choices.  They don’t care what colour your skin is, but your religion is paramount).

Most of my memories of events like Seders have nothing to do with the Seder itself.  I mostly remember the warmth of my mother’s kitchen the year we had a Seder for about 20 people as the women scurried about getting the meal on the table (and it was the women.  Something about it being a Seder makes the traditional roles come through) and then cleaning up afterwards.  I remember looking down the long table that year, with basically my entire family there, and feeling a part of something bigger than myself.  Knowing that all over the world Jewish families were doing the exact same thing at more or less (with the variances of time zones) the exact same time.

Even my most recent Seder, at my mother’s friends house, I don’t really remember the Seder.  I remember after the Seder, helping to clean up in the kitchen.  The hosts had hired a caterer and serving staff to help them, as there were about 25 people there, and they wanted to enjoy the Seder and not be stuck in the kitchen.  Even so, after dinner, the women were all in the kitchen, helping to put away the food and the dried dishes and such. The men? They were watching a sporting event on TV. 🙂

So being Jewish in a Christian country isn’t really that big of a deal to me.  But sometimes I think maybe it should be.