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Even when the way you live is wrong, you get used to it; it becomes who you are. You build up a picture of who you are based on familiarity as much as anything else.

And it happens to us all - sometimes the way you've been living stops working, becomes outdated, the picture changes.

The problem I have is I've been this depressed, self-hating person for so long, that now I'm feeling better, I'm a bit... lost. "A bad person" was my identity. As mad as that is, that was what I was used to and comfortable with.

Now, if that isn't true, who am I? A good person? That sounds so wrong. An alright person? Maybe...

I'm starting to believe I'm maybe not a bastard, despite spending all day yesterday sad that it was my dad's 60th birthday and I haven't seen him for almost seven years. But you know, part of getting better is maybe not expecting things to always be wonderful. Yesterday, it was a normal reaction to be sad given the circumstances.

Depression is a hotbed for shite metaphors, so here's another one: you can tame it like you would an animal, but you have to realise it still has the wild running through it. If you don't take care of it properly, if you slip, if you let it get away from you... It'll bite you all over again.

So I'm not going to claim depression and self-loathing are gone forever. It's under control for now, but it's not eradicated. The "all better!" attitude is too dangerous.

But. Despite all that, I'm starting to realise, as hard as it is to say sometimes, that I don't deserve to be treated like shite, that my friends love me and they must see something in there worth caring about, that I'm not evil and deserving of obliteration.

But I'm not used to that. I'm not used to just being utterly stupidly gleeful that I'm alive. And I'm not used to not hating myself. I feel like I don't quite know who I am.

So how do you redefine yourself? How do you find out who you are all over again? Do you just have to... live it?

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

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So I got my course materials for the first part of my psychology degree. And I'd just like to say: OH SHIT!

I mean it's awesome and all and it has all the stuff I want to study like how to do experiments properly and into identity and history of psychology and (excuse me) brain damage, there is no good way to say you're "interested" in brain damage but without minds that have gone awry you can't research healthy brains properly, in that sense. Yes anyway. Excited! But...

TERRIFIED. I don't have a science background and I have to design and carry out two experiments by myself and there's so much to read and I have The Fear. Fitting it all in could be fun, but I'll do it somehow.

This is what I want to do. I'm just daunted. It's huge. I'm scared I don't have an academic science brain.

The main thing is, though, I'm looking forward to finding out. :)

Posted via LiveJournal.app.

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Good MORNING, if it is a good morning. My morning is so far... eh. Just so.

I had a very interesting dream about Andrew Maxwell last night. I'm not putting this here in some sort of Sad Fangirl display, though no doubt I am one, but because my dreams TORTURE ME SO. Not for the reason you might think, either, but because only in my dreams do I have have the mental and verbal dexterity to spar with an actual stand-up comedian. In real life I'd go "um?" or possibly ":D!" and say something generic and boring like your show was great and then when safely out of sight, bounce a bit and make "eeeeeeeee!" noises only audible to dogs. RUBBISH.

But in my dreams I am cool and awesome and clever and hold my own in arguments about the Super Furry Animals - I don't know either - and the night, and the dream, ends with dancing in Dublin. With Maxwell. Oh, brain. I do love you really.

Suspect this was triggered by the en masse booking of many Fringe tickets yesterday. 4.5 days, 9 shows. This is faintly ridiculous, and I'd post the list here but I'm scared of jinxing it or something and making it not happen because SO EXCITED I CAN'T EVEN TELL YOU! ~flails~ Maxwell is one of them though, and suspect I may go on about it forever, though last year it didn't happen like that because I went on about Ed Byrne for weeks, then got to the Fringe and went on about Rhod Gilbert instead. So who knows? Just... might explode. Really might this time. It needs to be the 10th August now. Epic comedy, then Manchester for epic barbeque DID I MENTION SQUEE? :D

Ahem.

This weekend has been spent with my nose in a psychology textbook. I am now ready to start planning and writing my first essay for six years. This is in no way worrying or daunting oh my no.
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Derek Draper is a dick. It's more than a fun bit of illiteration; he really is. Quite apart from the spin doctor stuff, what really bugs me is the fact that a) he lied about his qualifications and b) he thinks it's absolutely brilliant to spread lies about people based on their mental health. This is a man who works in the public eye and passes himself off as a psychotherapist. Well done! You're a dick.

For more, see this, or just type in "draper psychology regulation" into Google. Because, you see, while clinical psychologist for example is a protected title, psychotherapist is not. Like nutritionist. Anybody can do it, regardless of proper accredited qualification or suitability.

The University of Pretend makes me angry anyway, but their psychology department makes me angriest of all. And there's nothing I can bloody do about it.

Or: I could shut the fuck up and put my money where my mouth is. Be the change I want to see in the world, and all that. So I've decided I'm going to be a psychologist and help people PROPERLY.

OH THE HUBRIS. I do Have A Plan, though, and it is thus: complete introductory course on psychology. Take undergrad degree in psychology. Hopefully achieve suitable grade to do Masters. Do all the other stuff needed for accreditation. Leave YEARS to do all this. Learn lots. Don't go mad and get ill. Don't fuck it up.

Via the Open University.

So that's nice. The only problem is the wee voice at the back of my head says "you're being too ambitious." I put this in an email, and it still sums it up best: It's a very British/Irish thing this, in saying "I want to be a doctor" I might as well have said "hello I'm a dick :D" because that's Getting Ideas Above Your Station and that Won't Do. Frankly it'd be more sane to say "I want to be Doctor Who", although people would still change your name to Doctor Whodoes Shethinksheis.

I've wanted to study psychology for ages though, just every time I thought about applying for the OU degree life exploded in my face. I think I'm ready now though. Three reasons:

1) I got my course materials in the post for the introductory course. I wanted to start reading the textbook immediately. I have held off for now but, dammit, I'm going to start it this evening after swimming I don't care, nerdfaced nerd.
2) I went through the modules and things I need to cover and went AAAAH I GET TO DO HUMAN BIOLOGY. I GET TO DO SCIENCE! which to be fair, isn't the usual reaction. I swear, there was actual squee.
3) I want to I want to I want to.

I've been hammering on for YEARS about how I want to help people and do something worthwhile, and I always wanted it to be in this field, and I cannot and will not do that without being qualified. So isn't it about time - I'm 27 next month - I get ON with it?

For the first time in a long time - perhaps the first time ever - I'm looking forward to the future. That can't be bad, can it?

(Derek Draper is a former Labour spin doctor and current psychotherapist. He is married to Kate Thing Off GMTV. He has been involved in an email scandal of late and has disgraced himself twice and really, we should've known that someone who hangs out with Peter Mandelson wouldn't really be a very nice person. He has written the worst self-help book I have EVER SEEN, and I've seen a lot of those things - for a self-help book, an awful fucking lot of it is about himself. Basically if you're not from the UK you have no reason to know who he is, and y'all should count yourself lucky. Malcolm Tucker is less of a bastard, and he isn't even real.)

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Kerrie Sakura

July 2010

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