>>From: Belacqua
>>To: Perdita
>>Subject: Re: spinning
>>Date: Mon, 6 Nov 2000

Yesterday, my medication put me totally out of commission. I could barely stand up because my head was spinning so badly. I almost blacked out several times while walking my dog, and topping it off was a headache from hell that wouldn't go away, so I was popping aspirin like crazy. Do you get really bad headaches? I used to get serious migraines several times a week, but now I’m down to about one severe headache a week and a minor one a day. Headaches are truly a pestilence from god (like I’ve done anything wrong to deserve it). That thought makes me so mad about this whole disease; I haven't done anything to warrant the type of hell I’m being put through. I give people my last dollar even if it means I can't eat so that they can. I almost literally bend over backwards to help people. Whatever someone asks of me, it is considered done because I will put myself in a horrible position to drag them out of one. I don't consider myself a horrible human being, yet this horrible sickness has spread its icy fingers over every fold of my mind. Why didn't Hitler have to feel this shit?

Lately, all I’ve been doing is writing, listening to music, or sleeping. I’m still spun out of my head so I don't know if I’m even following a coherent thought sequence. This image hit me the other day: I feel like we're two trees in the middle of the desert leaning about to fall down when our branches got intertwined, and now we're only standing because of the other tree. That's how it feels from this side. I’m not vain enough to presume I occupy that central a position in your mind, I just feel like my head is so full of things to type about, and I can't push anything to front of my consciousness. It's a really frustrating sensation.

The problem that my therapist says is central to everything is that I’m too passive. I let people bulldoze me. If something bothers me, I’ll stay quiet to avoid causing any sort of conflict. I end up doing things I don't feel comfortable with or being taken advantage of because the human race is such that when they see someone they can manipulate, they will. My parents yank me wherever they want me to be. My friends drench me in their problems, and I never get a chance to unload everything that is weighing me down. I’m only here when it’s convenient for them. If someone needs to borrow something or come up here to drink away from their parents, they call me. I f they want someone to just hang out with, they call someone else. And I allow this to happen. I never assert myself. I’m a non-entity. My needs and wants are rarely met because I can't realize them for everyone else pushing me around. I don't even want to be at this shitty school. I wanted to stay at the smaller college that I attended my senior year of high school, but my parents railroaded me into coming here by bribing me with the prospect of going to a respected private university and then yanking that away when it was too late to apply anywhere. So, here I sit, miserable in the south with nothing to say about being here. I’m just this little wooden puppet that is being dragged around through piles of shit, but I don't feel like I’m being used by you. That's why this is so comforting and emotional for me. I feel like we're on the same playing field. Someone wants to help me, and I want to help them. I don't feel worthless.

Belacqua

---

>From: Perdita
>To: Belacqua
>Subject: Re: spinning
>Date: Mon, 6 Nov 2000

Belacqua,

Before I started my meds, I couldn’t watch TV at all because I was so convinced that it was a horrible waste of time when I could've been doing something more productive like writing, practicing, drinking, or sleeping. Then I started the meds, and suddenly I didn't feel as guilty about watching TV, so I started watching Drew Carey twice a night. I swear to you, all I do now is go to work and go home to watch TV. My therapist says it's good that I allow myself to do whatever I want as a reward for making it through the day at work. I think I've seen every Drew Carey episode fifteen times.

I like your image about the trees. It's very fitting. I definitely feel much less alone knowing you're there feeling some very similar things to what I've been experiencing alone for as long as I can remember. I think at this point in my life, I can recognize certain things about depression and whatnot just through people's words, and you're the first person who's been able to convince me that you know how much it hurts. Even the people on depression discussion boards, for the most part, can't convince me that they've been where I've been, if for no other reason than the sheer length of time they've been experiencing it.

And I sure as hell know what you mean about getting dragged around all the time. I've always tried to be as nice as possible to people, and the more times I got hurt by other people, the more I figured I wasn't being nice enough, so I tried to be even nicer. Then the whole world was stepping on me. You're right; it's not fair. Hitler sure as hell would've deserved this disease more than anyone else, least of all you and me. To the best of my knowledge, I've never done anything to hurt any of my friends, but I could write down a list of all the things my best friends have done to hurt me. Of course, I can't stay mad at them, either. I try to just tell myself I'll get over it, and I'll be the bigger person for forgiving them.

I don't get headaches all that much anymore. I get them a lot when I'm on the higher dose of my Paxil, which my doctor puts me on when I come across as "more depressed." I don't know what makes him decide these things. If you ask me, my doctor is full of shit. If I could have some of the things he's told me in writing, I could sue him for malpractice. But of course, why would I do that? I don't want him to lose his job. And I'm too fucking lazy to bother switching doctors. So I just deal.

Right now my major problem is this thing that happens with my throat. Every time I drink, smoke, drink coffee, or change the dose on my meds, my throat feels like it's going to close itself off. It's the strangest thing, and it's SO hard to describe to a doctor. In my experience, doctors wouldn't know what to do for me, anyway. So whatever. I just feel like I can't breathe most of the time. No big deal.

Perdita