Depression and Piggy Flu

The initial consultation with the psychologist was today, and once I got over the nervousness, I think it went pretty well. She seems very good, and what's more, she seems to genuinely care.

It was bizarre for me to hear someone essentially say, "With everything you're telling me, your heart should ache." Probably true, but hard to acknowledge nonetheless. I've had a facade up for so long, it was about time it started to crumble.

Next week, Monday at 3.

Progress... perhaps.

And people are getting all freaked the fuck out about swine flu, or H1N1... of the 1200 kids in the Bethlehem elementary school, more than 600 were out sick last Friday with flu symptoms that hospitals can't and won't treat. "Go home and drink plenty of fluids," they say. Well yeah, no shit. Seriously, what are people expecting from doctors right now? I had to tell a fucking woman earlier this evening that I was sniffling because I had been crying, and not because I have swine flu.

Some good advice to anyone freaking out about piggy flu right now - Do two damn things: 1) Sit the fuck down, and 2) shut the fuck up. Kaythanks!

The Last Man

There is something about being the only person walking on the grass, across the common, every day at school, while others choose to walk on the pavement - on the disgusting, unnecessary and worthless pavement - that makes me feel like the Last Man, and that the rest of these fucking fools are industrial machines on their ways to get fitted with new bearings or whatever.

Yet here I sit with my laptop, handheld PDA, and mp3 player (no advertisement of brand names necessary). I've got my gear and I'd hate to part with it.

I've got tar on my feet... worms are crawling out of my skin.

I choose to feel the ground beneath my feet, to walk amongst the trees - not the tall buildings of this false academia, the so-called ivory towers - because with those strategically placed yet somehow still majestic trees I find camaraderie. With the majority of my classmates, I sometimes feel a sickening revulsion. I like them well enough, and converse and even sometimes spend time with them, but I can't help but hate them and all that they want. Because they're just like me. Fucking just like me.