Diane amazes me.

I have done nothing but eat since I got here. Tandoori food, scallops, lamb chops, all sorts of rich and bad for diet foods. But I've had a lot of fun doing it. I've been out with my cousin Diane, too.

She talked to her son before we went out, and was telling him we'd probably split a bottle of wine on a cruise of the river. Her son said, "You'll be surprised. She's a changed woman." This is the kid we call Nancy Reagan. He's been sober all his life, and will never, I doubt, pick up a drink or a drug, unlike the rest of his family. We're all alcoholics and drug addicts, especially his mom.

Diane and I went to dinner. I told her I'd joined AA, and guess what? She was proud of me. We made a little fun of AA, spouting the slogans. I know it's all true: one day at a time, plug in the jug, etc., but sometimes it's corny and funny. I have an interesting sense of humor. I thought she was going to disuade me from the whole thing. I really thought she was going to be awful about it. But she was great. She even offered not to drink during dinner in case it would be a trigger for me.

She was the only worry for me. I knew everyone else would be supportive, but I didn't expect her to be.

Sometimes people really surprise you. This was a great surprise.

Travel without booze

I had an amazing experience while traveling. I didn't drink.

Every time I fly, I get wasted. I like to have a cocktail before I get on the plane, and maybe a few more while flying. Flying to Paris, I had probably 4 bottles of those small plane wines. I had a few glasses before I got on the plane too. I have horrible travel luck, and am always delayed or cancelled, so I get a lot of time in the airport to drink. It was my favorite thing to do. Drink, get drunk, and then write. I did my best, and mostly only, writing in airports and on airplanes, while drunk.

But this time, I got to the airport and was delayed, of course, for an hour. There was a bar next to the gate, and I passed it up to buy a sandwich at a little shop. I sat in the waiting area, and concentrated on my iPod and the Marie Claire I brought with me. I avoided the bar, and I didn't have to drink.

That's the thing: I just didn't have to drink. I could remain sober, and I still had a nice flight. I was still able to sleep, and I was still thinking about writing. I'm amazed, and pleased. I hope to do it again on the way back.

Great news

I met with the place I interviewed on the phone with today, and they said I'm the top candidate! HR is going to recommend me for the position. That means I could be home in as little as 4 weeks.

Home is wonderful. I've had a really great time, and I got my 90 day chip at a fascinating meeting. I honestly couldn't tell you what the speaker talked about. There were also a lot of people minus some teeth, but Adam says there are much better meetings.

It's also been wonderful to spend time with Adam. I've seen him three times so far, and each time has been a great experience. We went to a meeting and had a lovely dinner. I miss him a lot and it will be great to be around him more often.

So that's all the news that's fit to print. I'll blog more in a minute.....

I'm rambling again!

If you've ever gotten a tattoo, you know: they itch. Once they've started to heal, you cover them with lotion to keep them soft, and try to relieve the itch. And you can't scratch them, or you'll mess up the healing process.

I just got a tattoo from shoulder blade to shoulder blade and down the middle of my back. The entire thing itches. I'm sitting here gritting and trying not to scratch, and when I can't take it anymore, I just pat. Pat, pat, pat. My bra is even itching it. Everything itches.

Yes, tattoos hurt. I have 7, and they all hurt in different ways. The worst is when it's right on the bone. I would have to say that the base of the spine may be the worst, followed by right under the shoulder blade, and then the armpit. I don't know why the armpit. Maybe because the skin is so soft and thin there.

So I'm about to get on a plane, and be dehydrated, and itchy. Hooray.

Shop till you drop

Ok, so I need to stop internet shopping. I'm sitting here in my nice cool apartment staying away from the heat outside and waiting to leave for the airport. I have nothing to do, which is so not true, but I'm not doing any of it. I have a stack of books and magazines that have piled up over the last month that I haven't had the patience to start. I could vacuum my house, which is in dire need. I could clean my bedroom and hang up the clothes that are on the floor. I could, I could, I could.

And instead, I'm sitting here browsing my favorite shopping websites and putting stuff in my cart. I don't have the money to buy anything, and I'm not going to, but I love just shopping online. I love thinking about having these things. I usually buy them, too. I looked at my closet and realized I either need less clothes, or more hangers. One of these things has got to give.

So I'm writing instead. I'm rambling to get away from the other screen which has such pretty dresses....

Check in time

This is post number 22 since Sunday. Is that a little insane? I see most bloggers posting once a day, or once a week. I'm more like 5 or 6 a day. I just see all these interesting studies and articles that I want to share!

So I need to examine myself: am I manic? Or it could be the caffeine.

Am I manic: I'm spending a lot of money, but it's going towards planned stuff like hair dye and a tattoo. I'm dying my hair, which is usually a sign of restlessness. All these blog posts. I'm a little ADD. I have a bit of anxiety, but it's not getting to psychosis levels. When it gets that bad I always think my dog is going to bite my face off and I get scared of him. That's when I know.

Am I ignoring my responsibilities? Kind of. I'm running away home this week, but I finished everything I needed to do before I left. Am I dressing provocatively? Nope. Am I out having sex or drinking? Nope. Am I smoking too much? Yep.

So there are a couple of signs there. Perhaps I'm in a little hypomanic stage. It feels nice though, since I'm not depressed anymore. I'll see how it plays out.

It's your mother's fault

"Recent studies in animals and humans suggest that abnormalities of mitrochondria may be involved in bipolar depression."

They apparently just finished a study seeing whether this was true or not. I can't wait for the details to come out. It begs the question: are people with mothers who are mentally ill more likely to inherit the disorder?

Mitochondria are also what scientists study to trace genetics back generations. Things pass through the mother: mitochondria come from the mother. So if your mom is mentally ill, it would make sense that you are more likely to get the disease than if it runs in your dad's family. Right? Hopefully they're doing a study on that now.

If you're happy and you know it clap your hands

"Like most diseases, bipolar disorder comes in different shapes and sizes and can be difficult to diagnose. Few people or physicians would miss classic bipolar disorder, with its cyclic episodes of severe depression and full-blown mania. After all, there is nothing subtle about mania, grandiose and often psychotic thinking, elated mood, superhuman energy and libido and reckless judgment.

But a milder form of mania, called hypomania, is not obvious at all, especially in someone like Bruce who happens to be temperamentally dramatic and lively. That is because hypomanic people feel very happy, have lots of energy, need little sleep and are generally fun to be with. And they certainly do not run to doctors complaining of happiness.

So it is easy to see how hypomania could masquerade as cheerful character. In the same way, dysthymia, hypomania's dark twin, has often been confused with gloomy temperament, when in fact it is a treatable form of low-grade depression."

Hypomania is the fun stuff. It's when people think you're really fun to be around. But it is usually the precursor to a full-blown manic episode. But people like the guy in this story just lived in hypomanic states for a long time. I think my mania is a lot like that. I make stupid financial decisions and take a lot of risks, but I never get to the point of doing anything REALLY stupid. Well, ok, sometimes I do, and that's the mania. To see some interesting stories on bipolar, check out this series from the NYT.

Patient voices series from New York Times.

Healthy tattoos

Soon, it might be healthier to get a tattoo in California.

The proposed bill both sets some statewide standards and allows for more stringent local rules, as well as setting penalties for not complying.

It would require shops to register annually with a law enforcement agency and pay a fee, set at the local level, to cover the cost of the program. Piercers and tattoo artists would also have to individually register, and show proof of a hepatitis B vaccine, completion of a federally overseen blood-borne pathogen training program as well as first-aid and CPR training. And body artists would be required, like cosmetologists, to post proof of their registration at work. Temporary expositions would face similar rules.

There are some cities and counties that already require these sorts of things, and I sure as hell only go to places that do. I have an awesome tattoo artist that shows me every time that he's opening sterile needles and ink. He wears gloves, and takes really good care of me. I've had 4 tattoos done by him so far, and he's working on a big whole back piece for me. I trust him with my health.

It will be good to have all shops required to be clean and licensed. There are some skeavy places out there. I got a tattoo once that was obviously done by an idiot, and the shop was dark and weird. It looked clean, but I wasn't as discerning then. I know better, now.

I have a lot of tattoos, and I love them all. I also have a hep B shot of my own, just in case.

Eating, eating, all day long

It's time to get serious about weight loss again. My jeans are a little tight, though I just washed them, so that could be it. I hope.

I know I've talked about this, but I have an unhealthy relationship to food, too. I can eat and eat, and not even be hungry. I just eat because it's there or because it sounds good. And then I don't eat, and I don't eat, because I feel really guilty about eating too much.

When I lose weight I do it through Weight Watchers and try to do it right. I eat lots of fruits and veggies, but try to stay exactly on my calorie limit for the day, even though they give you extra weekly points. I also exercise for an hour a day, and 2 hours a day on weekends. I get a little obsessive about getting the weight off, and quickly.

I was a skinny kid, well, not skinny, but average. And then in sixth grade I started getting miserable and gained weight. And then in high school, when I look back, I got skinny and then fat again once I was on lithium. In college I bounced back and forth, too. When I look at pictures I think, "how skinny I was!" It's probably because the majority, almost all, of my calories came from beer and the rest from meals at 2am in Denny's. Real healthy during college, I know.

And now, I think I eat pretty well, except the occasional (read twice a week or so) gigantic cookie. And ice cream. But I'm sticking to my daily points kind of ok. WW gives you a points system to follow, and you just type in what you ate and it converts it to points. I get 19 points a day, which really isn't a lot of food if you eat junk. It's a ton if you eat veggies. So that's what I'll do. More veggies, more exercise, and try not to go overboard with it.

Michael can be a bastard

Michael, my ex-boyfriend and current friend, can be a real ass. We broke up for a reason, and that reason was I couldn't take it anymore. I finally came out of my depression and noticed all the mean things he said to me and all the chaos he was causing in my life. So I broke it off and moved out.

I have a few resentments against him, but I've got a major one I'll tell you about. He's got a really bad temper. Well, not really bad, but bad enough. One afternoon we were driving over to a friend's house for a party, and I was feeling especially annoying. I used to love to pick fights with him because he would get so frustrated and I could just laugh. So we started talking about the Iraq war. Big mistake.

My whole family on my mom's side is Army. They've fought in all the wars since WWII, and served in their retirement in many capacities. Michael started to talk about how all the military was stupid and evil, and I got a little pissed. I mean, I know the war was kinda stupid and fought for all the wrong reasons, but it's not the Armed Services' fault. They listen to their commander in chief, el presidente. I know you'll say, "but the Nazi's said they were just following orders, too!" but I don't buy it. It's not the same thing.

So we got into a huge argument. We started yelling at each other in the car, and all of a sudden he slammed my side of the car into a stop sign. Head on, into a stop sign. Luckily I'm obsessive about wearing my seat belt, and he wasn't going that fast. But he did damage to the front of his car. He got out, yelled in frustration, and got back in. All I could do was laugh. Dumbass broke his car out of anger. And the more I thought about it, I wondered what else he could do. He's a body builder, and a hell of a lot stronger and faster than me. Even at my heaviest he could throw me on his shoulder, and he's short, too.

I started to get a little scared of him, and so I left.

I know it's weird that we're still friends, but he's a hell of a lot nicer now, 3 years later, and I call him on his shit all the time. When he's mean, I tell him, even if there are other people around. I don't let him push me around.

Speaking of Michael, he's coming over to drive me to the airport. Let's hope no signs get in the way.

And the internet is down

So my dad's computer is broken and not getting on the internet, so you may not hear from me till Sunday. I don't know if I want to use my mom's computer, cause she is a little smarter than he is and may read this blog, which I really don't want. Don't worry! I will be suffering from not posting. I'll be sure to write down all my random thoughts and new resentments for you. I know you love to hear about them.

All you have to change is everything

In the rooms they say all you have to change is everything about your life. I get that. You have to have a life built out of recovery and not just keep on living the way you were. That's not progress, and this program is about progress.

But it bothers me that people think recovery comes before people. Shouldn't your wife and kids be more important than AA? Shouldn't you make more time for them than for a meeting? And then I read this and understood:

"For me, recovery has to come in first place, ahead of wife, kids, job, and other relationships that I treasure. Part of this decision is practical. If I put recovery in second (or lower) place, I will eventually lose my recovery, as well as whatever it was I put in first place. Hazelden wouldn't allow me to work with patients if I relapsed. My wife isn't willing to stick with me through an alcoholic death spiral, the way she did with her first husband. My daughters wouldn't want a melancholy, drunk granddad for their children"

No one wants a drunk around, especially those who have already seen your bottom and don't ever want to see you go there again. Recovery is the only way you have relationships with the people in your life, therefore your recovery is the most important thing.

I think that's going to be hard for me, because I always put people first, but I've got to start putting my recovery in first place. I need to make time to do my step work and read my books instead of agreeing to spend an entire Saturday at a bbq. That may mean waking up earlier and hitting the 6:30 meeting, but so be it. Meetings should be the most important appointment in my early sobriety.

Drinking on the isles

So the question is: is it just British to get wasted? Is it in the genes and the history of Britain, or is it a phenomenon lately that the British are getting way drunker?

"...many here contend Britain is literally drinking itself to death, with a record 9,031 people dying from overdrinking in 2008, up 125 percent since 1992. Experts are warning of a national epidemic in liver disease. One major survey released in April showed the British to be the heaviest binge drinkers in the European Union, with almost one in nine reportedly guzzling at least seven drinks a sitting."

And that's a major feat, considering Germany is a big drinking part of the EU. So is it just British to drink? I suppose they may be the ones to "invent" the big pint of beer and the sherry after dinner, but I'm not so sure it's just a British phenomenon.

Americans are drinking more during this recession. They also found an interesting correlation between having a higher power and drinking:

"Those who seldom or never attend church are substantially more likely than more frequent church attenders to say they drink; and those who have no religious identity, Catholics, and non-Christians are more likely to drink than Protestants."

And Catholics are Latin American and Irish, mostly. England developed Protestantism, so are the Brits really predisposed to drinking? I don't know what this all means, so make your own conclusions.

Know who's pumping your heart

Today we talked about loneliness in the meeting. I was really lonely in the beginning. I missed my dear buddy alcohol. He was my best friend, and steady companion. And now? I'm not so lonely. I've learned how to reach out to the fellowship of AA, and to be more in contact with people who love me, instead of isolating.

There's a guy there dealing with massive depression, and he had a relapse. I really relate to the feeling that depression will take you under and the only recipe for coming out is a drink, but it's such a falsity. Depression and alcohol don't go well together. They make each other worse; you feel more depressed, and seem to get drunk faster, or just drink more. I hope he hangs in there and I see him again next week.

Another guy said he talks to his HP all the time, and he needs to remember who's pumping his heart. He needs to remember that there is an HP out there somewhere who's just waiting to make a miracle happen, but will do it in his time. You can ask for help, you can ask for things, but God will make it happen when it's supposed to happen. You're right where you're supposed to be. Be where your feet are.

Home again home again

I'm going home tonight for the rest of the week, and I'm really excited. It should be nice weather (in the 80s)and I get to hang out with my dad and my friends.

I always love going home. I usually get to have lunch with my step-grandma and my mom, and dinner with Adam. I'm going to meet my friends' baby for the first time, and see an old high school buddy.

It doesn't worry me to go home, except my cousin Diane. I'm trying to have breakfast with her so there's no or little drinking involved. I'm trying not to put myself in a situation where I'll be tempted to drink. After all, I have to keep repairing my brain! Those pictures are damn scary.

Another good visual

Wow, so here's a great diagram of what alcohol does to the body. At least you have a reduced risk of gallstones with both high and low consumption of alcohol. So you can forget your liver and your brain, but you're not passing any kidney stones any time soon!

And then there's the fun list: all the problems associated with heavy alcohol consumption. Of course, it's Wikipedia, so take it how you will, but it all seems to correlate with the rest of my "research."

You fucked up your brain

Well here's some good news: Your brain is fucked up, but maybe it can repair itself.

The researchers also found that the day after the subjects had consumed alcohol, their brain metabolism had reverted to what it had been prior to the experiment. However, Armin warned that, 'The brain's ability to recover from the effect of alcohol decreases or is eliminated as the consumption of alcohol increases. The acute effects demonstrated in our study could possibly form the basis for the permanent brain damage that is known to occur in alcoholics.'"

And then again, maybe it can't.

You should see the pictures of messed up alcoholic brains. There are some crazy "dead spots" in there. Even the ones of people who drink too much caffeine and smoke too much are really messed up.

All of this could also explain why I learned nothing in college. Alcohol really messes with your memory.

I wonder what my brain looks like, and if it can repair itself one day. I mean, alcohol, cigarettes, caffeine, and mental illness. It's gotta be a mess in there.

But there's hope! "Predictably cognitive functions and motor coordination improve, at least partially, within 3 or 4 weeks of abstinence; cerebral atrophy reverses after the first few months of sobriety." So stuff does come back, eventually, as long as you haven't really torn your brain to shreds. Memory takes the longest, it says, which is funny. The other day a friend of mine said, "I thought your memory was supposed to come back after you quit drinking, but yours is as bad as ever!" Have I told you that before? I always forget what I've already written about, so forgive me if I repeat myself. It should get better as my brain repairs itself, if I let it.

I really need to stop drinking so much diet Coke and coffee, and quit cigarettes. Maybe then I'll only have mental illness and not gigantic, permanent holes in my brain.

AA eases depression

So apparently AA can make you less depressed, which is good, since most of us came in severely depressed.

"Some critics of AA have claimed that the organization's emphasis on 'powerlessness' against alcohol use and the need to work on 'character defects' cultivates a pessimistic world view, but this suggests the opposite is true..."

Once you take a good look at yourself, which can be kind of depressing at times, you can make changes and take steps to improvement. I think that's a pretty powerful thing. It's something people look for in therapy, and often don't find. AA gives you that outline for how to take steps, and they're simple. 1. Don't drink. 2. Don't drink. 3. Rely on others and your higher power to not drink. Pretty easy. I mean, the only requirement is a desire to stop drinking, not even the ability to stop. Just the desire. And once you have the desire and the support system, the rest follows along (hopefully).

National Recovery Month

Hey! Guess what September is? National Recovery Month! So what the hell does that mean?

"The Recovery Month observance highlights the societal benefits of substance abuse treatment, lauds the contributions of treatment providers and promotes the message that recovery from substance abuse in all its forms is possible. The observance also encourages citizens to take action to help expand and improve the availability of effective substance abuse treatment for those in need. Each year a new theme, or emphasis, is selected for the observance."

Well, apparently they're having events all over the U.S., like rallies and bike rides and such. Apparently around here, there are two groups going to the local baseball games to celebrate. I know my group is hitting up a game and tail-gaiting, which I find hilarious.

Bigger, badder drunk driving penalties

I think it's probably a proper punishment for a drunk driver to lose his/her license. I mean, you're driving a one ton weapon at other people. More often than not, you're going to make a bad judgment call and hit something/someone.

Now, California can take your license away for ten years if you have three offenses. I think it's pretty insane that you have to screw up 3 times to get your license revoked for that long. Apparently, three times is the charm. The first time, they only revoke your license for 6 months. I think that may be pretty standard, though I think my friend lost his license for a year. Wait, that was a second offense. That makes sense.

Right now, the law in CA is one year for every offense.After the fourth offense, it doesn't say what the penalty is. I bet there are a lot of folks who just drive without licenses after a fourth offense. I wonder if you get a fifth or sixth in ten years if it's just automatic jail time.

I think ten for 3 times is a gigantic jump, but probably a good penalty. If you don't learn your lesson the first two times, you're probably not going to learn it anytime soon.

Dehydration sucks

I think I'm dehydrated. I've kinda got the shakes, and I know it's not booze related, cause it's been almost 90 days since my last drink. But man have I been inhaling the caffeine.

I have a really addictive personality, apparently. Once I start doing something, I just can't seem to stop. I can't have one anything. If I have one, I want another immediately. I want another cookie. I want another breakfast. I want another cup of coffee or diet Coke. I want to keep running even when I'm tired and hurting. I want to write another blog post. I want to drive a few more miles. I want, I want, I want.

So part of AA is learning to let go of these wants and ask what God wants. Does God want me to have another diet Coke? Apparently not, since he's saying through my body, "Drink some water, damn it!" I should probably do that, huh? I don't know when the last time I drank water was, but I'm sure I could get addicted to it if I tried.

In the deep

I was discussing a lot of stuff with my therapist tonight, and she always seems to be amazed by me. It's neat. We talked about my last big depression, where I was a 9 on a scale of 10. It's back in 07 when I was unemployed for three months and off meds.

It started out ok. Well, I was manic. I was drinking like crazy, cooking bacon in the middle of the night, and generally annoying my roommate/boyfriend. I was up all the time, but never leaving the house. And then I started not leaving the living room. And then I never left the little red armchair. It's a plush chair, and really comfortable. And so I moved my laptop to the chair one day, and didn't leave for about three weeks.

I slept in the chair. I didn't shower or change my clothes. I didn't really get up except to go to the bathroom and to eat. And I stayed in the chair to eat, too. I just loved my little chair in the living room, where we could close the shades. I would be sitting in the dark when he came home just sending out my resume all over the place.

My therapist asked, "Well if you were so depressed, how did you job hunt?" Will. Luckily, I'm a pretty strong-willed gal. People I know are laughing right now, cause strong-willed doesn't quite cover it. Stubborn. Determined. Willful in the first degree. So all I did was set up a search and refresh it constantly. I applied for anything and everything. I just sent email after email from my chair, and stared at the computer screen.

It took me 2 months to move from the chair, and the only thing that did it was an interview. They called me, and I put on my "cheerleader voice." It's that fake happy voice we all have. They called me in for an interview and I got up out of the chair, took a shower, and drove down. It was the first time I'd really been out of the house in months, except maybe to go to a bar. I think I went to the bar once or twice then, but mostly I drank at home. My boyfriend bought everything, which is good, because I was getting poor, too.

Anyway, I made it to the interview. I must have looked ok, because they hired me, but I remember feeling a mess and being really exhausted after from all the effort. It took me another 4 months to crawl out of that depression. I was back on medication and had a sense of purpose in getting out of bed every day. I was out of the chair and back at work.

525 calories

I keep thinking I should be losing weight from quitting drinking. I mean, alcohol has a lot of sugar and calories, right? And if I was drinking a bottle or two a night, that's a lot of calories! In fact, a bottle of wine has about 525 calories. That's 1,050 calories a night some nights. And women my size only need about 1,900 to 2,000 calories a day to live. So the majority of my calories came from alcohol.

But it's not working out that way. At least I'm staying the same weight, but I'm sure not losing any. I suppose it's all the replacement sugar (read: cookies and ice cream) I'm eating to make up for it. That urge is starting to wear off, though, so perhaps it'll change soon. I'll be able to stop taking in so many calories through junk, and get back to eating fruits and veggies for the majority of my meals.

I'm still on Weight Watchers, but I haven't been really good about it. Plus, I've been a slacker with running. I finally ran this weekend, and my legs are now really pissed at me. So maybe I should do it more often?

To the newcomers

I know I'm still new, but I remember being really new. Being there in the room and saying: I'm an alcoholic. I wasn't sure I believed what I was saying. I mean, I believed I was an alcoholic, but I couldn't believe I was actually saying it to a room full of strangers.

There were a lot of newcomers in the meeting tonight, so we talked about the first three steps. They were pretty hard. Admitting you're powerless and insane is hard to do. "But I've been able to take just one drink..." you think. And then you think back on it. Could you, really? I sure couldn't. I had to take more than one, more than 10. I couldn't stop. That's powerlessness.

And it was driving me insane. I couldn't stop. I drank for grief, I drank for anger, I drank because the sun was up, because the sun was down, because I was off work, and I always wanted a beer at lunch, even during work. It's hard here, because there is alcohol everywhere. Every restaurant has a liquor license. There's wine at every store. There's all my haunts on every corner. I know going home won't solve that, my old haunts are there, too. It's just time that will make those places lose their powers.

Step three is still a challenge. Every day I have to tell myself: turn it over. It's not your decision. It's hard to do. All you want to do is take over the wheel, to be selfish. Someone said tonight, "I don't think much of myself, but I'm all I think about." It's so true. Alcoholics, and I think really everyone, is only concerned with themselves. People are inherently selfish, because we're all worried about our own role in the world. We worry what others think of us, what we look like, how we sound, etc.

And that's what AA can do: make you less selfish. AA helps you think of others, and stop pondering yourself all the time, but lets you think about your role in things and how to make yourself better. It's a nice combination of inward and outward reflection.

Diabetes and mental illness... chicken and egg?

So now they've found a link between diabetes and mental illness. "We know that people with diabetes have an increased incidence of mood and other psychiatric disorders," they say. I had no idea! I wouldn't think that an insulin disorder would have anything to do with a dopamine problem, but...

"...insulin -- the hormone that governs glucose metabolism in the body -- also regulates the brain's supply of dopamine -- a neurotransmitter with roles in motor activity, attention and reward. Disrupted dopamine signaling has been implicated in brain disorders including depression, Parkinson's disease, schizophrenia and attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder."

Huh. So your insulin levels actually help moderate your brain function. But of course, and this doesn't make sense, a lot of psychiatric drugs can cause diabetes. If insulin regulates brain disorders, why mess with insulin and cause people to become diabetic? This is the part that makes no sense to me.

There's a lot of diabetes in my family, and a lot of mental illness. I'll have to see which one came first.

Death comes to us all

I hate death. I don't know if it's because it scares me and I don't want to die, though I don't know that I have that fear, but whenever people are sick and dying it just hits me really hard.

When my grandpas died, I was a mess. During both of the funerals I cried more than my grandmothers, or my parents. I cried through the whole thing. I got super wasted after both of them, and tried to drink away all the feelings. And now, Ms. Grace is really sick. She's just my neighbor, but it's still really bugging me. She's so spunky and full of life! I just can't imagine her being sick enough to actually die. She is in the hospital now, and covered in bruises from the blood thinner and a fall she had. She's got cancer that's everywhere, even in her brain. My upstairs neighbor, the paramedic, read her chart and said it really doesn't look good. I just can't imagine.

It may have all started with my first funeral. I was obsessed with death as a kid, and even wanted to be a forensic pathologist. I thought all that stuff was so cool, and would dissect anything I could find. I would bring dead roadkill home and ask my parents if I could dissect it, and they always made me throw it away.

Anyway, when I was around 13, my friends' mom died of cancer. We went to the wake, and she was all dressed up in makeup (which she never wore) and had on a weird wig (which was so unlike her hair). She just didn't look like herself, and it hit me: I know this woman. I loved this woman. She took care of me. And now she's no longer here. And I cried. And I almost vomited in the parking lot (actually, I may have). And I cried.

Death of my loved ones is not my friend. I was still able to go on dissecting things I had no personal relationship to, but I think even if my dog died I wouldn't be able to look. I'm just not good with death.