Ten year meme
Aug. 31st, 2005 12:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mousmeWell, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
talyesin and karine did it, so why shouldn't I? Sadly, mine got long, so I'll put it behind a cut.
Ten years ago (1995): I finished Troisième (9th grade to the rest of you), and spent part of the summer in France. The rest of that summer was spent with my then best friend AMC. I started Seconde, which was probably the worst year of high school ever as I wrestled with my first bout of severe depression, which I successfully hid from everyone I knew. My grades slipped, but not terribly, and I spent a lot of time alone. I first discovered self-injury then as a way of coping with what seemed to be irreconcilable pressures in my life. I dressed as a lobster for Hallowe’en, in honour of the Referendum on Québec sovereignty. The profs thought I was a scream.
Nine years ago (1996): I struggled through the last half of the school year, and got my drivers’ license. Got a job as a nanny/housekeeper in the Eastern Townships, which turned out not to be as good a job as it sounded at the beginning. Started CEGEP at the same school, and was optimistic that things were going to change for the better, now that I wouldn’t have to struggle with pure and applied sciences.
Eight years ago (1997): Finished the year well in my written exams, and nearly passed out from nervousness during the oral exams. Things went south with AMC’s family that summer, and most of the summer was spent dealing with the fallout. She stopped talking to me after I refused to defend her going out with a drug dealer who verbally abused her in my presence. Started my last year of CEGEP with plans to change the world, which amounted to nothing when no one wanted to change the world with me. Decided instead to focus on schoolwork, and change the world once I got to university. In the meantime, I volunteered with the handicapped kids at the McKay Centre for the Deaf until they closed the wing.
Seven years ago (1998): Graduated with awards of various kinds, including one for English composition and translation that got me sent to France for a week to get my award at the Sorbonne in Paris. Was on top of the world for a long time. Got my first real job working for the World Congress of Sociology for two weeks, then another doing phone surveys, which sucked massively and paid minimum wage. Quit two weeks after starting university. Arrived at McGill University with a great feeling of liberation, convinced that everything was going to change for the better. I was sort of right.
Six years ago (1999): Having completed lots and lots of credits successfully my first semester, I kept on in the same way for the second semester and then took summer classes. Started roleplaying in January, and was thoroughly hooked by the time March came around. I rode a major high into September, and continued volunteering for as many organisations as I could. I became the treasurer of the Women’s Union, and the poetry editor for two literary magazines. I did very well in school, but was still completely dissatisfied.
Five years ago (2000): I received special permission to pursue two Bachelors at once, increasing my workload even more. I continued with summer classes, and suffered my first major manic break, although I didn’t know it at the time and no one else suspected, except to mention that I seemed to have way more energy than was necessary. I lost 35 lbs, became editor in chief of my literary magazine and got a position on the staff of the Gamers’ Guild. I was on top of the world, and no one was going to stop me. I averaged two or three hours of sleep a night, and never stood still for a moment. Had a short-lived romance with a very nice man, but I broke it off fairly early when it became obvious to me that I couldn’t return his feelings the way he wanted. I also had terrifying nightmares of my room filling with water, but when I went to see a psychiatrist at the Mental Health Services, he simply told me that I was putting too much pressure on myself, and then scheduled another appointment for the next week. After that, his secretary called to say he had to cancel, and he never rescheduled. I never called back. My parents and I moved out of our house and into a condo closer to downtown.
Four years ago (2001): Hot on the heels of my manic break (still ongoing), I became president of the Gamers’ Guild, and managed to keep myself afloat until September. I applied for a Rhodes scholarship, and made it to the last round before being rejected. I breathed a sigh of relief when I got the rejection letter, and that in itself caused me to take a good hard look at what was going on with me. By then I was severely depressed, unable to go to classes, and was physically a wreck due to the self-injury and the other really unhealthy habits I developed while I was manic. I went back to the Mental Health services after a long fight with myself, and found a better psychiatrist who took me seriously, and prescribed an antidepressant. I tried to commit suicide twice, once at Christmas and once on my birthday ten days later. Neither attempt succeeded, and no one ever found out before I told them several months later.
Three years ago (2002): I quit university after struggling with my depression for months. Relations with my parents deteriorated severely as a result, and I got a job at Bell Mobility and moved out on my own. I started a LiveJournal after my friend [Bad username or site: “curtana” @ livejournal.com] did. I began the only long-term relationship of my life (well, if you can call eight months long-term), with a man I called Poms in my LJ. I discovered paintball, and got two cats, George and Pan-Pan, and my life started looking up. I started Cognitive Behavioural Therapy in September, which seemed to help a bit with the depression. The relationship with Poms turned sour around August and September, when he started repeatedly crossing the boundaries of privacy and began pressuring me to commit to him in ways I wasn’t ready for yet. I broke off the whole thing in November, thinking it was for the best.
Two years ago (2003): Things with Poms took a turn for the scary in January, and I broke off all contact with him. Came out of the closet in March. Things at work got increasingly stressful, until I became so sick I vomited blood at work. I quit Bell Mobility in the summer, and tried to work independently as a translator. I suffered the worst bout of depression since 2001, and sought out another psychiatrist, since I hadn’t had anyone follow up on me since the year before. Found my current psychiatrist, who finally diagnosed me with Bipolar Disorder and started me on medication and recommended me for group therapy. I suffered a psychotic break in October, and was up and down like a roller coaster on crack all the way through December.
One year ago (2004): Got my medication stabilized in January, and continued with both group and individual therapy. I was still severely depressed, but more stable than I’d been in a long time. Finally found a job at a refrigerated transport company through a placement agency, and found to my astonishment that I really loved it there. I quit all therapy except for regular visits with my psychiatrist, and began to rebuild my life. Had a minor bout of mania during the summer which came under control again quite quickly. Began seeing my friends a lot more, began roleplaying again, and found a whole new group of friends who are just downright inspirational. I reconnected with [Bad username or site: “fearsclave” @ livejournal.com], and we began snowshoeing together in earnest. And, of course, I discovered linedancing.
Now (2005): Lost the job at Erb in January, had a short-lived position in a scaffolding company, and then got a sort-of permanent place at the National Bank. I’ve started writing again, first time since the beginning of university that I’ve done any sort of long-term writing project. I’m the drummer in a band, I volunteer regularly at my dance club, and I moved out of the Apartment of Doom that was rapidly becoming unliveable.
In other words, 2005 is proving to be a year of transitions. Stay tuned, because in three and a half years’ time, you won’t find me here anymore.
talyesin and karine did it, so why shouldn't I? Sadly, mine got long, so I'll put it behind a cut.Ten years ago (1995): I finished Troisième (9th grade to the rest of you), and spent part of the summer in France. The rest of that summer was spent with my then best friend AMC. I started Seconde, which was probably the worst year of high school ever as I wrestled with my first bout of severe depression, which I successfully hid from everyone I knew. My grades slipped, but not terribly, and I spent a lot of time alone. I first discovered self-injury then as a way of coping with what seemed to be irreconcilable pressures in my life. I dressed as a lobster for Hallowe’en, in honour of the Referendum on Québec sovereignty. The profs thought I was a scream.
Nine years ago (1996): I struggled through the last half of the school year, and got my drivers’ license. Got a job as a nanny/housekeeper in the Eastern Townships, which turned out not to be as good a job as it sounded at the beginning. Started CEGEP at the same school, and was optimistic that things were going to change for the better, now that I wouldn’t have to struggle with pure and applied sciences.
Eight years ago (1997): Finished the year well in my written exams, and nearly passed out from nervousness during the oral exams. Things went south with AMC’s family that summer, and most of the summer was spent dealing with the fallout. She stopped talking to me after I refused to defend her going out with a drug dealer who verbally abused her in my presence. Started my last year of CEGEP with plans to change the world, which amounted to nothing when no one wanted to change the world with me. Decided instead to focus on schoolwork, and change the world once I got to university. In the meantime, I volunteered with the handicapped kids at the McKay Centre for the Deaf until they closed the wing.
Seven years ago (1998): Graduated with awards of various kinds, including one for English composition and translation that got me sent to France for a week to get my award at the Sorbonne in Paris. Was on top of the world for a long time. Got my first real job working for the World Congress of Sociology for two weeks, then another doing phone surveys, which sucked massively and paid minimum wage. Quit two weeks after starting university. Arrived at McGill University with a great feeling of liberation, convinced that everything was going to change for the better. I was sort of right.
Six years ago (1999): Having completed lots and lots of credits successfully my first semester, I kept on in the same way for the second semester and then took summer classes. Started roleplaying in January, and was thoroughly hooked by the time March came around. I rode a major high into September, and continued volunteering for as many organisations as I could. I became the treasurer of the Women’s Union, and the poetry editor for two literary magazines. I did very well in school, but was still completely dissatisfied.
Five years ago (2000): I received special permission to pursue two Bachelors at once, increasing my workload even more. I continued with summer classes, and suffered my first major manic break, although I didn’t know it at the time and no one else suspected, except to mention that I seemed to have way more energy than was necessary. I lost 35 lbs, became editor in chief of my literary magazine and got a position on the staff of the Gamers’ Guild. I was on top of the world, and no one was going to stop me. I averaged two or three hours of sleep a night, and never stood still for a moment. Had a short-lived romance with a very nice man, but I broke it off fairly early when it became obvious to me that I couldn’t return his feelings the way he wanted. I also had terrifying nightmares of my room filling with water, but when I went to see a psychiatrist at the Mental Health Services, he simply told me that I was putting too much pressure on myself, and then scheduled another appointment for the next week. After that, his secretary called to say he had to cancel, and he never rescheduled. I never called back. My parents and I moved out of our house and into a condo closer to downtown.
Four years ago (2001): Hot on the heels of my manic break (still ongoing), I became president of the Gamers’ Guild, and managed to keep myself afloat until September. I applied for a Rhodes scholarship, and made it to the last round before being rejected. I breathed a sigh of relief when I got the rejection letter, and that in itself caused me to take a good hard look at what was going on with me. By then I was severely depressed, unable to go to classes, and was physically a wreck due to the self-injury and the other really unhealthy habits I developed while I was manic. I went back to the Mental Health services after a long fight with myself, and found a better psychiatrist who took me seriously, and prescribed an antidepressant. I tried to commit suicide twice, once at Christmas and once on my birthday ten days later. Neither attempt succeeded, and no one ever found out before I told them several months later.
Three years ago (2002): I quit university after struggling with my depression for months. Relations with my parents deteriorated severely as a result, and I got a job at Bell Mobility and moved out on my own. I started a LiveJournal after my friend [Bad username or site: “curtana” @ livejournal.com] did. I began the only long-term relationship of my life (well, if you can call eight months long-term), with a man I called Poms in my LJ. I discovered paintball, and got two cats, George and Pan-Pan, and my life started looking up. I started Cognitive Behavioural Therapy in September, which seemed to help a bit with the depression. The relationship with Poms turned sour around August and September, when he started repeatedly crossing the boundaries of privacy and began pressuring me to commit to him in ways I wasn’t ready for yet. I broke off the whole thing in November, thinking it was for the best.
Two years ago (2003): Things with Poms took a turn for the scary in January, and I broke off all contact with him. Came out of the closet in March. Things at work got increasingly stressful, until I became so sick I vomited blood at work. I quit Bell Mobility in the summer, and tried to work independently as a translator. I suffered the worst bout of depression since 2001, and sought out another psychiatrist, since I hadn’t had anyone follow up on me since the year before. Found my current psychiatrist, who finally diagnosed me with Bipolar Disorder and started me on medication and recommended me for group therapy. I suffered a psychotic break in October, and was up and down like a roller coaster on crack all the way through December.
One year ago (2004): Got my medication stabilized in January, and continued with both group and individual therapy. I was still severely depressed, but more stable than I’d been in a long time. Finally found a job at a refrigerated transport company through a placement agency, and found to my astonishment that I really loved it there. I quit all therapy except for regular visits with my psychiatrist, and began to rebuild my life. Had a minor bout of mania during the summer which came under control again quite quickly. Began seeing my friends a lot more, began roleplaying again, and found a whole new group of friends who are just downright inspirational. I reconnected with [Bad username or site: “fearsclave” @ livejournal.com], and we began snowshoeing together in earnest. And, of course, I discovered linedancing.
Now (2005): Lost the job at Erb in January, had a short-lived position in a scaffolding company, and then got a sort-of permanent place at the National Bank. I’ve started writing again, first time since the beginning of university that I’ve done any sort of long-term writing project. I’m the drummer in a band, I volunteer regularly at my dance club, and I moved out of the Apartment of Doom that was rapidly becoming unliveable.
In other words, 2005 is proving to be a year of transitions. Stay tuned, because in three and a half years’ time, you won’t find me here anymore.
