Driving the Point Home

A question was posed in my Psychopharmacology class that I felt merited some consideration on my part.  

We were talking about why someone might fail to take their medication, or continue to say they're having significant problems when they aren’t.  
The question was “What is the gain from remaining sick?”  
This can obviously be answered in many ways, depending on the circumstance.

I began to think about this in terms of my own life and my own struggles with my fears and with a failure to drive. 

 If I don't try, I can't fail, right? 

This logic never worked in any other area of my life, so I'm not sure why I thought it would with driving, other than the fact that I did mostly have other ways around. 

Let's face it. 

I don't leave my home very often, and would generally prefer to be some kind of happy recluse, but I understand that this isn't a reasonable possibility. 

I also feel guilty now that I don't live by a bus line and occasionally need to carpool or outright ask people for rides, as I can't currently afford to take cabs everywhere while in the unpaid internship... 

Externship... 

Whateverthefuckship. 

In any case, I've been attempting and mostly failing to prioritize my health, and instead I've been obsessing over something that is generally not seen as a big deal. 

More than that, it is generally seen as a wonderful thing. 

For me personally, passing the test means that I now don't have to retake the permit test, which would have been embarrassing. 

I don't have to have the strange looks when I have a non-driver ID instead. 

I don't have to have anyone questioning how I function in life, just because they are too unimaginative to think of living without a car in my situation. 

I wanted to be proud of myself too, but I'm having trouble with that. 

I think the issue is that I really had no desire to do it at all, so rather than feeling accomplished, I just feel like I gave in. 

I did this thing that I had no desire to do, just because someone else told me to do it. 

Christ. 

How much of my life has been like that? 

 

Still, having passed is great, if only for the wait for the next one to now be gone forever. 

The pressure each time was slowly killing me. 

It became everything. 

It took over every aspect of my life with the sheer power of not-want. 

I just don't want to think about it anymore. 

Passing means I don't have to worry about the test, but now I have the car I can't afford, the insurance, the upkeep, the responsibility, and the assumption that I will drive. 

Now, it has become an issue if I do have the audacity to ask for help. 

After all, I can drive. 

Everyone involved seems to think passing the test has immediately cured me of my not-want. 

It did not, just as doing any other terrible thing forever doesn't automatically make people Stockholm-syndrome themselves into loving the thing. 

Now, I just have more questions, more pressure, and I fear that I'll wind up on the side of the road sobbing and hysterical, missing my appointments that were otherwise never an issue to get to on time. 

I guess any lingering depression winds up more apparent when it's on me, rather than being able to say, "Well, better get going so my ride doesn't get upset."  

 

I feel like I'm constantly letting everyone down either way, or that there is something significant wrong with me, beyond all the things that have actually made my life harder. 

It's frustrating to note that the things I actually want to work on and struggle with are somehow not good enough to those around me. 

I fully realize that I am not those people, but some solidarity would be nice. 

I have found myself falling from pushing on and through and up, to just wanting to be left alone to rot. 

Of course, my Knight in Pinstripes and my very good friends ARE supportive and would never let me do that to myself, as much as I may try. 

Still, this is upsetting because I understand that it has all been hinged on this idea of having a car and driving and freedom in this lonely, expensive, wasteful death machine. 

Again, Rob is all for carpooling and is steady in his belief that I should not have to drive if I do not want to. 

He generally believes I shouldn't do ANYTHING that I don't want to do, but again, that means I would do... pretty much nothing. 

Ever.  

Sometimes, I pretend that I want to drive. 

Sometimes, I pretend that I am already someone who drives. 

It is a fun fantasy, but ultimately leaves me feeling empty, realizing I am lying to myself because I feel like I am worth less than I would be as a driver. 

I feel like while I've been told I am not, I must certainly be a burden, and something to be ashamed of. 

Otherwise, why would any of this have come up at all? I wind up wallowing in everything else I've been trying to fix, just to have this barrier of, “No, look. I'm too sick. I can't drive because I'm too sick.” 

I've been self sabotaging and ruining so much of my health, both physical and mental, in an effort to convince those around me that I am sick enough to not do this one thing that I have never done before anyway. 

 

All that having been said, I did face my fears. 

And now, I have it, whether I ever use it or not. 

These are things I CAN be proud of, because they were important to my growth as a person. 

That is the most important part.

And... I actually do like the car.  Well, when it starts up, anyway.  

I call it The Grey Ghost, and I understand that my aversion to driving is not the car's fault. 

...My tendency to personify objects a bit probably doesn't help the guilt though. 

Just sayin'.

Why I Broke Up With Counseling

Years ago, I felt like my life was over.

I had a long road to walk before I learned to pick up the pieces.

Well meaning people around me decided that rather than simply finding a way to still do the thing that I loved, I should just drop all of that and do something else entirely.

What was picked for me was Counseling.

I looked at this thing that was supposed to give my life meaning, and felt empty. I assumed I was the one at fault, not it.

Every now and then, I'd run off to my true passion, and I'd find myself feeling really guilty about it.

I felt selfish, because I was supposed to find meaning in being a therapist... Yet it wasn't happening.

 

And Counseling just kept screaming nonsense at me, so I put it with all the other stressors.

Of course, I kept getting new ones from people too,
and others just wandered in on their own...

They all looked kind of the same, so it was hard to tell which were important and which were really not. As a result, I treated each as equally important.

I ended up neglecting the ones I had put there myself.

This means that eventually, I was taking care of EVERYTHING else...
 
...until I stopped caring for myself at all.

 

Like I said, I felt guilty and selfish for not paying every ounce of attention to the ones other people told me were necessary and important.

How far down did I have to go before I realized what I was doing to myself??

 

I was right that it wasn't fair...
but I was wrong about which party was being neglected and hurt.

I blamed myself.

 

It was hard because I didn't want it. ...but being a therapist is tough even when people DO want it.

So, that couldn't be my fault, right?

Trying to fake it was exhausting at best, and depressing when I realized I still hadn’t tricked myself.

I felt guilty drawing.

 

As that was my main source of feeling like a real person again, it was a shame to stop.

I wanted to be passionate and to love Counseling, because I thought that all good people naturally want to do that... but not only is that untrue, it was unfair.

I've had enough crappy therapists to know that. Besides, you can't fake love and passion.

Being “good” at it didn't mean it was good for me, much like any other one sided relationship.

Finally, I looked at Counseling again.

I moved it to see what life was like without it.

I found that I felt lighter.

Away from me, I could analyze its true use, and realize that I was not the best person to take care of it.

Counseling was fine without me too.

I'm still surrounded by stressors, but some are welcome.

 

Others are a real necessity, and I'll continue weeding out the ones that aren't.

It has even freed up space so that I can get back to my physical health.

I've already had less panic about eating, and I actually enjoy the gym again.

 

The take away here is that guilt is never a good reason to live life for someone other than yourself.

I am ready to start finding out who I really am.

Adventures in Fashion: Makin' a Thing

None of this is sewn together yet.  It's just pinned, but you can see what the Hell it's going to be. 

The idea is that I'll wear it with a white or black top of... some kind.  Starts under the boob and then goes down.  That's it.  That's all it's gonna be.

All the Kinda Jobs

So, I technically started my internship.  
I also have a school-class that is supposed to… help?  Somehow?  
I don't know.  
All I know is that I look at the homework and make a face.

Apparently part time unpaid internships plus a three credit class don't count as enough to do for financial aid, so I'm a little bitter about that.  
…Also, we take our big test by week three, so what the Hell is the rest of the class for other than irritating otherwise busy, stressed, and not-paid students?
I guess to give us time to retake it if we fail.

...Hope I don't need that.

It's my first week at the hospital and already I have been able to make a lot of connections to Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. 
I find this both comforting and horrifying.

It's exciting though.  
I'm getting a calendar, I have a desk with a phone, and I'll even have a key to… things. 

Now, what made this sort of Alice-like was 
A. the computer system is actually called ALICE, and 
B. running around following my supervisor in order to meet new people was a little like following the White Rabbit.  

I found myself dragging behind and wondering if I was going to lose her in the endless maze that is those hallways. 

At one point, looking for a key for me, we went to someone higher up.  
Everyone is really nice, by the way.  
This is a very good thing. 

This particular very nice higher up person had a bowl of keys.  
My key was not in said bowl. 
She lamented the fact that she was unsure as to what the keys were even for.  

Someone else had handed them to her a while before.
They said things like, "Bin 2" and "Desk" but no indication of what such bin may contain or where such desk might sit.

Yep.

I have been walked around that area of the building a few times now and I still have no idea how to get from point A to point B. 

All I know is that they keep the interns in the basement. 

No, like, seriously.

It wasn't nearly as scary as had been described, but the hallway is sort of thin and there isn't really a ceiling, so much as exposed pipes and such.  

A little Silent Hill-y, but I had no fear of Pyramid Head or anything. 

Once you get into the room, it's actually very cozy. 

Admittedly, it is a little odd to know I am physically replacing a previous intern. 

This makes sense, but it's still a little jarring to realize that her stuff was once right here, where my stuff is.  
I know she just moved on and may have even gotten a nice cushy job somewhere, but I had a sense like she was dead.

I'm pretty sure she isn't dead, but I didn't want to ask.

That seemed rude.

Either way, any worries were replaced knowing that I have those cubical walls where you can pin stuff up like a giant corkboard.  
Dad told me not to cover it in Batman.  

I'm an adult and I'll do what I want.

Overwhelming horror returned when I had to record not one, but THREE voicemails.  
I don't like the sound of my own voice, and recording things always leads to my sounding like I have eight thousand sticks shoved up my ass.

That actually wound up more harrowing than getting a needle shoved in my arm right before then.

Oh, wait…

Did I not mention that?

Yeah.  You know.  The PPD for tuberculosis and such. 
We had gotten my photo for my ID, and run over to the nice nurse to ask about what proof of what immunizations I'd need.  

Working in a hospital and occasionally wandering into the ER makes this pretty freaking important.

Once there, suddenly my supervisor has her arm exposed like, "LET'S DO THIS" and I'm sitting there saying, "Yes, hi, I'm terrified and confused and you just took a syringe out of like a mini-fridge? and what is happening I don't even-" and suddenly a needle was happening in my arm.
 
Now, obviously I've had this done before, and I had actually signed the needed paperwork…
BUT HOLY CRAP PANIC. 

I apparently don't like getting that kind of thing sprung on me, but in all fairness, if it hadn't gone that way, I would have had a lot of trouble mentally gearing up for it later.  
This way, it was done. 

Also, the thing didn't swell or anything.  
Just a little bruise.  

The nurse was even super cool because she used to be an allergy person at my allergy… place. 
 
So we talked about the drops and how they're working, and she told me that since I have allergies, my skin would do exactly what it did, so I didn't freak out.

Mind you, any little red splotches are not only usually very brief, but often a creation of my own brain-pan anyway. 

It's the worst of super powers.

WHEW.  Okay.  So.  That's that.

Donna is still going strong… (www.rowyngolde.com/donna)

OH!  If anyone would like to submit guest strips for Deddrie.com, send an email to deddrie@gmail.com! 

Since updating that has taken a huge backseat to Donna, my internship, my class, my relationship, my sanity, and so on, I'm looking for help to fill in that gap.  

It can have however much swearing, violence, and so forth.  
Ideally, hand me an idea for a script/concept, and anything you'd like me to post under the comic about where to find more of your work or who you are/lwhat you do. 

Woot!

Lastly, we are done the casting for EVE and are now in the beginnings of funding!
Check out www.isitEVE.com, like us on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/eveindiefilm), or follow us on Twitter @EVEindiefilm for more news!

!!!

Busy With All The Wrong Things

It's been a while since last I updated you all on what the Hell I've been doing, so let's get down to business. 

Shuffle has been published on a small scale.  I'm told more will be coming?  We'll see.  This is a little preview of my part of it (without the final shading, words... anything):

If you'd like to purchase a copy, right now copies ARE limited, so your best bet is to email me a request at deddrie@gmail.com

Oh Hell, Donna! is still updating every Wednesday.  

...And I've got a couple character designs all ready to go for a storyline that won't show up for like another year or something:

AND Deddrie is actually ALSO still updating:

I just tend to promote that less because… Well… I mean, look at him.  He's ridiculous.  I know what this is.
Found some older drawings that need finishing though:

AND the Society6 page is still going strong.  
Soon, there will also be a Storenvy. 

EDIT: STORENVY link! 


AAAND I entered a shirt contest thing with THIS at welovefine, though the rating period doesn't start for a few more days: 

EDIT: Contest is over.  Whoops.

*AHEM*

SO

As far as the other half of what I do, I DID manage to get an internship. 
Fairly last minute and coated in chaos, this internship is actually much closer to something I would be happy (ish) doing, rather than all of the other internships that were available to me. 

If I'm going to work for free, I'd like to not hate it.

Getting to the interview was an adventure, and made me feel a little like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. 

"No, seriously, I was told to wait here.  I don't want to go through that door.  Please don't buzz me in again-"
And suddenly I was on the other side of said door. 

Just a thought here, but if you have to BUZZ people in before they can open the door, shouldn't you be checking to see who these people are first? 

What if I was a crazy(er) person?

In any case, everyone was very nice. 

Training starts tonight! 

…And then maybe I'll have a real post.

Maybe. 


In the meantime, have a look at some of the stupid things that have been coming out of my brain this past month: 

Mermaid, kinda: 

This one is pretty typical of me:

Yep.