Request for a Worldwide Thor blot

Just a note for anyone interested - this came across one of the Heathen lists I'm on:

From: "Joseph Belcher"
Subject: World wide Thor blot
Date: Wed, 29 Oct 2003 13:49:22 -0500

Hail to the Thunder God in all his might. I am asking the heathen world, regardless of affiliation to join me in a world wide Thor's blot this weekend. I live here in Southern Califonia and am being threatened by the forest fires (as are all in this area) I am asking you to join me in making an offering to the protector of Midgard, for his help with these fires, but also to just honor him for all he does.

The blot will be at 23:00 GMT, Nov 1, 2003. That's 3pm here on the west coast. Check http://www.timeanddate.com/worldclock/ to convert this to your local time.

Please forward this on to all tru folk who you feel are willing to raise a horn to Thor

Pain, drugs, and choices

I really haven't said much yet about Rush Limbaugh's drug situation. It's kind of a difficult subject for me, because I have more than a bit of experience of my own with hydrocodone and other prescription painkillers.

Part of me wants to have compassion for him - drug addiction is a hard thing to deal with and can be very difficult to kick. Where I get hung up, though, is in my own experience, which has been that if you use the medications according to the doctor's instructions addiction can also be avoided.

In his Statement on Prescription Pain Medication Stories, Limbaugh points out that he was prescribed the painkillers following back surgery, and that he still has severe pain in his back. While he says he's not making excuses, the feeling I got from his statement is that he hopes we will understand that because he still has pain he "had" to take more drugs than he should have or that we're supposed to feel sorry for him because he's in pain.

I know what it's like to live with chronic, severe pain. Along with the depression and Tourette's Syndrome I've mentioned before, I also have severe arthritis. It's mostly in my knees, but it's starting to develop in other joints as well, and it's severe enough that it's the main factor in my being homebound for the last 5 years. To deal with the pain, I take prescription painkillers every day. I've always taken care, however, to make sure that I use them in accordance with my doctor's instructions. He prescribes a certain number of pills to last me for a certain amount of time. I make it a challenge to myself to make the pills last longer than I have to (and usually succeed). I take one dose when I first get up, because the pain then is at its worst. For the rest of the day, I only take more if I truly need it. There are some days I take the full allotment for the day and some days when, admittedly, I may take an extra dose, but there are also days where I take fewer than allowed and some where I only take the morning dose. Often I make a conscious choice to put up with more pain than I maybe have to, in order to ensure that I don't start abusing them.

Every time I pick up the bottle of pills, I make a conscious choice to take them or not. If I'm having an extremely bad day, and I choose to take more pills than would be allotted for that day, then I know I'm going to have to also choose to put up with extra pain another day to make sure I don't go through the bottle too fast (which would be a sign of a problem, as far as I'm concerned).

Yes, it takes some work to make sure that I don't take too many pills or go through them so fast that I run the risk of addiction, but I know the dangers and I deliberately choose to exert caution. By the same token, if I started taking more than I'm supposed to on a regular basis, it would be by my own choice - I'm the one that's in control, here. I decide how many I take and how often I take them. If I ran through my "stash" too soon and wanted more, I would have to make a deliberate choice to obtain more - whether it meant trying to find another doctor to prescribe them through a different pharmacy or finding someone to go make deals in the parking lot of the local Denny's. These aren't things that just "happen" on their own.

So, while part of me has sympathy for a fellow pain sufferer, part of me is angry that he's trying to explain away the choices that he made to abuse what could have been a useful tool - if used properly - to help alleviate the pain.

Believe me, I understand the temptation. The pain killers I take never make the pain go away entirely, but they do reduce it to a point where I can at least function somewhat normally - even if I still can't get out of the house. But they can also give me a nice, warm buzzy feeling that just makes it easier not to care so much about the pain I feel. I won't deny there are days I want to be able to crawl into that little bottle of white pills and just not give a damn about anything, but I choose not to.

Instead, I rely on my faith and the Gods to help me find the strength to keep going and I find ways to keep myself distracted from how I'm feeling - this blog is one of the biggest sources of pain management therapy I have. Playing the guitar and video games are a couple others. Each of them give me different ways to keep my mind distracted, and different ways to deal with the anger I feel as the injustice of having to live with all this pain. Yelling about Bush, researching a story that I find interesting or important, trying to sort out what's true, what's rumour and what's spin, soothing myself with music, numbing my mind with the repetition of practicing a certain lick or riff until I get it right, working out aggression playing a loud, rocking tune, blasting little pixelated men and beasts with my little pixelated warrior, solving puzzles, letting myself slip - temporarily - into some ancient magical world, all of these are ways I cope. And when they don't work, I seek solace in my faith.

So I really don't know how to approach this story. I don't want to condemn Rush Limbaugh - each of us have our weaknesses, and, apparently, this is one of his. I certainly wish him the best and hope that this time, his efforts at getting off and staying off the drugs succeed. But I don't want to see people lose sight of the fact that he has this problem because of the choices he made - and that there are other options to drug abuse for dealing with severe pain.

My husband, Gods bless his soul....

They say in the south you can say anything about someone, no matter how mean-spirited, if you first, "bless their soul". Well... my husband, bless his soul, is a very bright guy when he takes a minute to think, but sometimes he just blurts out the first thing that comes into his head, and they're sometimes a bit too funny not to share.

For example, a couple years ago when I asked him to re-seed our lawn because some spots were looking rather bare. He looked at me with the most exasperated expression. Now, it didn't seem to me like re-seeding the lawn would really be that much harder than mowing it, and while mowing isn't his favourite thing, it's really not a big deal to him when it needs to be done, so I asked him what the problem was. "I really don't want to dig that many holes..."

My sides were still hurting the next day.

Another beaut comes from when he was still a teenager (I've known him for quite a while - we'd been friends for about 6 years before we started dating) and was impressed by things like designer labels and such. A girl at a weekly get-together we all went to was showing off her new purse by "LA Style". Proto-hubby gives an admiring "Oooohhh.. imported!" and the group just about fell on the floor.

Tonight he came up with one that's almost as good. He mentioned that his dad had just come back from vacation, and I said I hadn't known he'd gone on one, and wondered where he'd gone. "He went to Wyoming, and took a mule to the bottom of the Grand Canyon."

I really wouldn't want to see those saddle sores!

Turns out he really did go to Arizona, but it was pretty funny, nonetheless. I gotta say, though, I love having a life with a lot of laughter in it, and, thankfully, he quickly understands why what he said was funny and can laugh at it, too.

Just thought I'd share something that wasn't a rant for a change. :)

The Country Quiz

I found this over at "Everything that Sucks". It was just to amusing not to post here. The Blue Pyramid site has developed a quiz to help you determine which of 64 countries you are most like - and it only has 6 questions. What's scariest? This isn't really all that far off. :)

You're Ireland!

Mystical and rain-soaked, you remain mysterious to many people, and this makes you intriguing. You also like a good night at the pub, though many are just as worried that you will blow up the pub as drink your beverage of choice. You're good with words, remarkably lucky, and know and enjoy at least fifteen ways of eating a potato. You really don't like snakes.
Take the Country Quiz at
the Blue Pyramid

More fun with the new camera

I like having a digital camera around :)

More pics of my family. First, my kitty, Piper

A Break from the news

Ok, hubby just got a really nice new digital camera as a reward for doing a good job at work, so we took some pictures of our puppies (ok, they're dogs - I just call 'em puppies still because they're too cute to be called "dogs" *g*), and I thought I'd take a second to do a bit of showing off. :)

This one is Tasha - a nine-year-old Lab/Border collie mix

And this is Sabaka, an 8-year-old Lab/WhoKnowsWhat mix

Nobody's Hero

I knew he was different, in his sexuality
I went to his parties, as a straight minority
It never seemed a threat to my masculinity
He only introduced me to a wider reality
As the years went by, we drifted apart
When I heard that he was gone
I felt a shadow cross my heart

But he's nobody's hero
Saves a drowning child
Cures a wasting disease
Hero --- lands the crippled airplane
Solves great mysteries
Hero --- not the handsome actor
Who plays a hero's role
Hero --- not the glamor girl
Who'd love to sell her soul
If anybody's buying
Nobody's Hero

I didn't know the girl, but I knew her family
All their lives were shattered
in a nightmare of brutality
They try to carry on, try to bear the agony
Try to hold some faith
in the goodness of humanity
As the years went by, we drifted apart
When I heard that she was gone
I felt a shadow cross my heart

But she's nobody's hero
Is the voice of reason
Against the howling mob
Hero --- the pride of purpose
In the unrewarding job
Hero --- not the champion player
Who plays the perfect game
Not the glamor boy
Who loves to sell his name
Everybody's buying
Nobody's Hero

As the years went by, we drifted apart
When I heard that you were gone
I felt a shadow cross my heart

Lyrics by Neal Peart, Music by Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson

Envy

Sitting here, watching news of the war, I can also watch my dogs as they're sleeping.  Yes, I'm one of the silly saps who thinks of her dogs as more than just an animal-that-lives-in-the-house.  During the day, when I'm otherwise alone, they keep me company.  When I'm upset, they know it and rush in to comfort me. Since my husband and I have chosen not to have kids, they're our children, and they're truly my friends.

Right now, both of them are stretched out comfortably, with those happy, peaceful puppy faces all dogs have when they sleep.  To look at them, you'd never know there was anything going on in the world.  Even when they're awake, they're bouncing around like nothing's wrong, thrilled at a few moments attention from "mommy" and "daddy" and a Milk-Bone, eager to run out in the yard and play, and snuggling up close after they've worn themselves out, laying their heads in our laps and offering that unconditional adoration that we humans so love.

Right now, I'd so love to be one of them....

For Shame

Recently, a teacher in Canada learned that an anti-gang organization in Chicago was sponsoring a poster contest.  She contact the National Gang Crime Research Centre to find out about entering her students in the contest (which was described as being for "North American" students, and also specified that entry was open to students in the United States and Canada), and received the following message in response:

29 Jan 2003

To Whom It May Concern:

We are a pro-law enforcement group and support initiatives against Gangs and Terrorism.

Recent national political statements from leaders in your country have, unfortunately, been non-supportive of American interests. Due to this unfortunate development we are no longer able to accept Canadian entries.

I am sure this is not a reflection on your own patriotism and your own perspectives on the issue, but in the current climate --- that is the way Americans are going to react.

Yours truly,

George Knox
Director
NGCRC

In response, here is the letter I sent to Mr. Knox:

I am truly saddened and shamed by your recent response to a Canadian teacher who inquired about having her student enter their artwork in your poster contest.  You are wrong in saying that "in the current climate --- this is how Americans are going to react".  If you've not noticed, there is little consensus as to whether Americans in general support the coming war or not, and there are a good number of Americans who, like me, will find your attitude disgraceful.  If nothing else, the massive anti-war protests last weekend speaks loudly to the fact that there are more than just a few Americans who don't believe in what our government is doing.  Will you be checking to see if the parents of any American students participated in the protests before deciding to accept their entries or not? 

From what I know about dealing with gangs, one of the most important things any kid can know is that even if gang members are trying to bully them into joining, they have the ability - and the right - to say "no".  Sadly, these days, America is acting more like a gang trying to bully other nations into joining us than anything else.  There is even talk of taking steps to damage - if not destroy - the German economy as retribution for their refusal to agree with our position.  (See this article in the Observer for more information: http://www.observer.co.uk/international/story/0,6903,896573,00.html )

The Canadian government doesn't feel that supporting the position of our government is in their best interest.  Just as any kid has the right to say "no" to a gang, the Canadians have the right to say "no" to President Bush - and whether their leaders want to agree with our leaders or not, it shouldn't have any impact on whether or not you allow young Canadian students to participate in a contest that might help them learn something about the dangers of gangs. 

Losing a BeeGee

Bee Gees singer dies. Maurice Gibb, who had hits in five decades as part of legendary harmony group the Bee Gees, dies in a Miami hospital at the age of 53. [BBC News | Front Page | UK Edition]

Ok, so the BeeGees aren't really a topic you'd normally find in a mostly-serious political blog, but for many, many years, the BeeGees were one of the most important forces in my life.  I learned to sing by trying to match Barry Gibb's falsetto (and stretched my range upward by about an octave in the process -- the foundation of my vocal range is in the contralto to near-tenor range), and most of the first songs I learned to play on the guitar were theirs.  They were my first star crushes (along with Shaun Cassiday and the BeeGees little brother, Andy Gibb), and my introduction to music with more "oomph" to it than could be found in your typical John Denver or Captain and Tenille songs.  I went to "Teen Night" at our local disco so I could dance to their songs on a flashy lighted floor, and I had plans to actually see them in concernt, until the roof of Kemper Arena collapsed and the show had to be cancelled.

At one point, I owned virtually every album they'd ever released (to that point), and I was familiar with all of their different sounds. I tracked how their songs did on the Billboard charts by listening to Casey Kasem's "American Top 40" every week (I was so obsessive, in fact, that my parents had to buy me a portable radio/tape recorder so I could tune it into the show while we were in church, recording it so I could find out how everything had changed during the week, and running out between church and sunday school to flip the tape over so I could be sure to get every minute.  I even kept a spiral notebook throughout the year, so that at the end of the year, I could try to predict what songs would be in the Year-End Top Ten.)  I had posters, music books - I even tried to style my hair like Barry's (not one of my better ideas).

While I've not listened to a lot of their music in recent  years, I have still kept a few cherished tracks to play in those moments when I long for a reminder of those years before I became truly aware of just how messed up this world is.  Loosing a BeeGee isn't the most traumatic thing that can happen, but it closes out another chapter of my childhood, and leaves me feeling a bit melencholy tonight...

My Political Map

Over at TalkLeft, I found a link to an interesting "Political Map" Quiz that's supposed to tell you where you fit in to the political landscape.  Mine came up "Centrist", which is interesting, because they describe Centrists as:

You would feel most at home in Centerville, which means that you are more or less pleased the status quo-you think the US government has just about the right amount of control over your economic and personal decisions. Your neighbors include democratic and republican party leaders and others who call themselves "moderates" and "centrists."

Now, if I was really more or less pleased with the status quo, why do I have nearly three months worth of almost daily postings, mostly bitching about what the government did most recently to piss me off?  Ah well...  in some ways, I suppose it fits -- I've always joked that I end up being a moderate because I spend so much time running from one end of the spectrum to the other that you pretty much have to take the average. 

If you decide you want to take the test, you can compare your score to mine by making a note of my e-mail address:  kriselda@differentstrings.info.  If you'd like, go ahead and leave your e-mail in the comments so I can compare your score to mine. 

Fat Friendly

I have a tendency to get hooked on movies sometimes, and I can end up watching the same one - whether it really deserves it or not - on an almost daily basis if I'm in the mood.  Lately, the mood I've been in has called for a daily dose of "Evolution", a science-fiction comedy by Ivan Reitman, in the spirit of his classic, "Ghostbusters".

The story is fairly simple - a metor crashes in the Arizona desert, and is discovered to contain organic material from another world.  The evolutionary rate for this material, however, is incredibly fast - the aliens can achieve in a few hours what it took our world 2 billion years to produce.  Left to their own devices, they'll be able to take over the world within in a matter of weeks. It's up to our rag-tag band of heros - a down-on-his-luck biologist; his best friend, a geologist who "thinks he's an athlete"; a nice but dim-witted "townie" who works at the local country club, but dreams of being a firefighter; a doctor from the CDC; and 2 brothers who have maybe one brain cell between them, but happen to know a key bit of information - to stop the aliens while they still can.

The movie itself isn't going to be a comedy classic, but it is a nice, funny bit of fluff that won't rot your brain too much and can fill a couple hours when need be.  My fondness for the movie, however, comes, at least in some small part, from the two brothers - "the Donalds" - because of the way they help defy a common Hollywood stereotype.

As noted in some of my earlier bits, I'm a fat woman, and one thing that has had a devastating impact on me has been the way the media - both in entertainment and the news - treat the obese.  In entertainment, fat people are typically the butts of the jokes, generally shown stuffing their face with food on a near-consistant basis, obsessed with talking and thinking about food, easily distracted by food, and so on. 

On an episode of ER, a man who'd recently had his stomach stapled to help him lose weight came to the hospital because of abdominal pain.  Now, for most people, after a stomach stapling, it's best to liquify and drink food, rather than eating it, as it's easier to digest that way.  This character had, apparently, liquified and drunk an "entire Christmas meal" (as opposed to the normal 2 or 3 tablespoons of food or drink a person who has had gastro-intestinal surgery is able to eat for a meal).  Another scene had the doctors trying to figure out how to pull the guy out of the wheelchair he'd gotten stuck in, but the greatest part of the man's humiliation was yet to come. One of the nurses discoveres that 5 dinner trays are missing, and, following a trail of food crumbs, they find the man passed out in a closet, having eaten the 5 dinners and become so engorged that he passed out and puked.  He had to be taken for emergency surgery, and Dr. Benton made a point of identifying each bit of food as he pulled it from the man's system.

Monk featured an episode centered around an 800-lb man who was confined to bed because of his weight.  Anytime another character was in a position to see any of his abdominal flesh exposed, their reaction was universally one of disgust to the point of almost needing to throw up.  The character was shown constantly being served food - nine corn dogs, or a mixing bowl sized "serving" of spaghetti.

Third Watch contributed an episode with a woman who, like the character from Monk, was so fat she was confined to her bed, and in order to get her to the hospital, a wall from her appointment had to be removed.  As the paramedics came in through the house, a view was given into the family kitchen which was filled (and I DO mean FILLED) with cakes, cupcakes, candies, snack food and other such items.  I will give Third Watch credit for at least having one of the characters acknowledge that the woman deserved to be treated with reasonable dignity.  It's too bad the show itself could have done that for the character.

The news media is, in many ways, is even worse.  In the cases where a fat person does get trapped in their home, if a wall of their home has to be removed to get them out, the newspapers in the area will cover it, and frequently, it'll make the national "odd" news wires. I remember several years back when I had a very bizarre accident and inded up running over my own leg with my car (no serious damage, though, just a big bruise on the back of my calf with the clear impression of the tire tread in it), I was absolutely terrified that, because I am a very large woman, and because the accident itself was so weird, it was somehow going to end up in the news.  I've even told my husband that if - Gods forbid - we ever do have trouble getting me out of the house, that I'd rather die in the house than become the subject of a news report on another fat freak.  And when doing stories on obesity, TV news stories are ALWAYS illustrated with pictures of fat people's torsos.  No faces - just people walking in crowds, shown only form the base of their neck to their knees.

So, given the general treatment that fat people get in movies, when I first saw the characters of "the Donalds" in one of the opening scenes, I resigned myself to being innundated with yet another rounds of these kinds of sterotypes and to see the guys always with food in hand and so on.  I was, however, pleasantly surprised.  No mention is made at all about the guys' size in the film and the characters are rarely, if ever, shown with food.  They don't talk about food, there's no scenes of them being distracted by someone talking about food or showing pictures of food.  Nothing like that at all.  And while some may argue that having the guys be so dumb is an insult to fat people (and therefore makes the movie unacceptable), it must be noted that they aren't the only really dumb characters in the film.  Two other characters - one of our main trio of heros, and a minor female character - are both a dumb as a bag of hammers, if not dumber, and they are both what would be considered conventionally attractive. 

What we end up with are two characters, who happen to be fat, but who are not defined as being "fat people".  There are no fat jokes, and, in the long run, they end up helping to save the day.  They are simply treated the same way any other character in the movie is, and while that may not sound like reason for celebration, it is extremely rare.  The characters could easily have been played by thin people, and not a single thing about them would have to be changed.  

So, while part of me feels sad that this is actually something I find reason to be happy about, most of me is just happy that the film was made the way it was, and that for once, the fat people were just part of the local colour for the setting of the movie, and not the punchline to every other joke.

A Blessed Yule to All!

Today is the Winter Solstice - the shortest day of the year.  In ancient times, the solstice marked the beginning of Yule, which was the time when light overcame the darkness and the world began to warm again, reminding people that spring - and the new life that comes with it - would soon return.

As noted in Our Troth:

Of all the high feasts of our forebears, Yule is by far the highest, the holiest, and the most fraught with might. During the thirteen nights of Yule, all the worlds meet in the Middle-Garth: the god/esses and the dead walk freely, trolls and alfs come into the homes of humans, and those folk who are closest to the Otherworld may leave their human selves altogether to become the riders of the Wild Hunt or oskorei (Ásgarð-Ride), werewolves, or the embodiments of various of the wights that wander the earth at Yule-tide. But Yule is also the time of the greatest feasting and joy, because it is at Yule that the whole clan, living and dead, gathers as one, sure in the knowledge that even as the Sun rises every year from her greatest darkness, so there will ever be rebirth for us as well. It is not by chance that Yule has preserved the most Heathen customs of any feast: the promise of the Yule log and the ever-green tree also stood as the promise that our folk-ways should live through the long dark winter and rise bright again.

[The full article can be found at http://www.thetroth.org/resources/ourtroth/index.html]

Of course, this time of year is not sacred to Norse Pagans alone.  It is sacred to people of many faiths, and even among the secular, it is a time of celebration and general good will.  My wish this year at this holy time is that each of you find the greatest blessings you seek, regardless of what path it is you walk.  May the returning light of the coming spring increase the warmth, joy and hope in your life.

In Frith (a fruitful peace),

Kriselda

"All These Problems...."

Lott Decried For Part Of Salute to Thurmond
GOP Senate Leader Hails Colleague's Run As Segregationist

By Thomas B. Edsall
Washington Post Staff Writer
Saturday, December 7, 2002; Page A06

[...]  Speaking Thursday at a 100th birthday party and retirement celebration for Sen. Thurmond (R-S.C.) in the Dirksen Senate Office Building, Lott said, "I want to say this about my state: When Strom Thurmond ran for president, we voted for him. We're proud of it. And if the rest of the country had followed our lead, we wouldn't have had all these problems over all these years, either." [...]

Lott never specifies which "problems" he's referring to. Given, however, that the Dixiecrat party that Strong Thurmond represented during his presidential run adopted a platform which read, in part "We stand for the segregation of the races and the racial integrity of each race, " it's a reasonable conclusion that whatever "problems" he means are somehow related to the still-slow, but growing, integration of society. 

[...] In 1998 and 1999, Lott was criticized after disclosures that he had been a speaker at meetings of the Council of Conservative Citizens, an organization formed to succeed the segregationist white Citizens' Councils of the 1960s. In a 1992 speech in Greenwood, Miss., Lott told CCC members: "The people in this room stand for the right principles and the right philosophy. Let's take it in the right direction, and our children will be the beneficiaries." [...]

It's troubling that, with his background of speaking to the Council of Conservative Citizens and making comments indicating that he agrees with their goals (which, to a great extent, are to re-segregate the races), the citizens of Mississippi see fit to return him to the Senate on a regular basis and that the Senate Republicans seem to consider him an honourable leader for their party. 

Republicans in the Senate need to step forward and make it known that they do not respect such beliefs and that they do not support a man who would make such comments.  In giving his tribute to Sen. Thurmond, it is unlikely that Lott did not give serious consideration to the words that he would say, or the message that he would convey.  It is hard to imagine that he did not also have an idea as to the fact that his comments would cause a stir.  What then, does he hope to gain by making them?  Is he trying to play to the segment of the country that still believes that blacks and other minorities should not have a place of equality within society?  There's something sad in the idea that racism is still such a problem in this nation that there's even a "hate vote" to go after.

Do You Remember?

What are they thinking in Washington DC these days?

Or is putting "thinking" and "Washington" in the same sentence an oxymoron?

Granted, I try not to watch the propaganda they laughingly call news these days; but from what I gather, emperor G.W. Bush is planing to have the U.S. jump feet first into a no-way-we-can-win war in Iraq. It even sounds like he is willing to go to war with, or without the approval of Congress.   [...]

While it has become common to see comparisons between President Bush's current actions and attitudes, St. Parker at .u.n.f.o.l.d.e.d. .r.e.q.u.i.e.m. has written a very interesting editorial looking at some of the commonaities between our current approach to Iraq and the course of the Vietnam war. I strongly recomment taking a few moments to check it out...

More than Moody Teen Angst

Young and Depressed

[...]  This is a huge change from a decade ago, when many doctors considered depression strictly an adult disease. Teenage irritability and rebelliousness was “just a phase” kids would outgrow. But scientists now believe that if this behavior is chronic, it may signal serious problems   [...]

[Newsweek]

When I was a teen, I knew there was something wrong with me.  I was teased mercilessly by the students around me - there wasn't a time from kindergarten though my senior year in high school when I didn't have at least one, if not more, derogatory nicknames, and in general the nicknames were far more well-known than my "real" name.  But it went beyond just being the blues over being picked on.  I would get A's and B's on every report card, but still felt like a failure.  Evenings and weekends were usually spent home alone.  From time to time, I might have a close friend - invariably someone I met away from school - that I could spend some time with, but during all my years of junior high and high school, I never once was invited to a party or asked to go out with "the girls".  Yet my sadness went even beyond what you might expect for that.  I always felt empty, cried a lot, slept a lot and found that I had very few interests beyond reading, listening to music and learning to play the guitar.

When I was 15, I remember one night sitting on the stairs in my home, crying and having yet another argument with my mother. Mom and I have always had a difficult time getting along.  We're both have a lot of control issues, and we both want to be the one controlling my life.  So there I was, angry, frustrated, hurting and crying and I told Mom that I really felt like maybe I needed to see someone about why I was so sad all the time.  Mom would have none of it though -- her attitude was very much the kind of 'no one in MY family is going to be mentally ill'.  I ended up not being able to get any help for it until I was in my 20's - and suffering from major clinical depression.  Even now, it still plagues me.  I'm on Paxil, which helps some, but in the back of my mind, I've never stopped wondering if maybe some of the damage I've acquired might not have been avoided if I'd been able to get help so many years earlier.

With that in mind, this article was bound to catch my attention.  Its sad to hear that, for so many teens, the idea that they might be depressed is still dismissed out of hand by many parents and doctors.  I'm also surprised.  Many teens themselves have known for years that "something" is wrong.  In some ways, it's hard not to, when you find yourself never feeling the way you see others feeling.  Many teens adopt an air of depression - one with many people find easy to dismiss since outward shows of angst are somewhat trendy now.  And while I have no doubt that there are more than a few kids who are more or less just trying to "fit in", it's important that parents and teachers not ignore the fact that there may really be something serious going on, and that there is help available.

Depression can be a serious problem.  It takes many forms - from mild blues brought and sadness brought on by life events, to persistant feeling of darkness that never seems to let up, and all places in between. It's good to read that it's starting to come "out of the closet" a bit more, especially for teens, but hopefully some day people with depression and other mental illnesses will be viewed more along the lines of people who need to wear glasses - they have a condition that gives them a bit of difficulty, but usually doesn't get them subjected to discrimination or or other negative judgements from the people around them.