There's something I'd like you to know about me.

I'm crazy.

No, seriously, I was diagnosed with clinical depression and agoraphobia years ago. That's a pretty bad combination because, when you're depressed you should talk to people, but when you're in the thick of an agoraphobic flair-up (and, incidentally, depression is a trigger for agoraphobia) you don't want to...so, when I get depressed I get agoraphobic...and when I get agoraphobic...do the words "vicious cycle" mean anything?

Good times, I assure you.

"Don't they have meds for that?" You ask. Why yes, yes they do, and I've been on meds periodically since I was diagnosed. But the problem with meds is, they make me irrational and aggressive...so yeah, I'm no longer suicidal, but now I'm homicidal. Don't you wish you had options like me? *buffs nails*

"What about that stuff...what is it...St. something?" St. John's Wort? Yeah, I've tried that. But I can't honestly say it had an effect. I know the fluoxetine works, but I don't know the St. John's Wort does, and right now, I'm too whacked to try the SJW in the off chance that it will actually stop me from hurting myself in a bad way. Now I just run the risk of doing something incredibly stupid, y'know, like essentially threatening a good friend (still can't believe I did that - please, disregard my last email! That was the crazy talking!!!)

So for now, the trade off is a bit of homicidal aggression...oh, and jitters. It's kinda like having drunk a pot of coffee followed by another pot of coffee, followed by a bottle of No-Doze, and chased with a 2 liter bottle of some caffeinated soda...yeah, it's intense. And don't even get me started on the dreams! (Oh, and if I start laughing for absolutely no reason or I laugh at inappropriate things, yeah, it's the meds.)

So why would I go through with this? Because, if I don't, then I really am that much crazier. No seriously, ask my friends. Cuz, see, here's another problem I have...overactive imagination. I've always been the type of person who spends a lot of time in Fantasyland; probably because my reality hasn't been all that spectacular. So when I'm depressed, this overactive imagination has a tendency to...how shall we say...make stuff up. And usually, it ain't good.

So why am I telling you all this? Firstly, because I want to give a heads up to everyone who knows me personally...I am back on the meds that keep me from hurting myself in a bad way, but they tend to make me mean...yeah okaaaaaay, meaner. (The one upside to this is that they also make me somewhat funny and unblock my writing ability - so while I'm being mean to you, I'll at least have the presence of mind to be funny while I'm writing about it!)

Second, so that when I freak out and need someone to talk to like, right now, then I hope you can be there to listen to me be crazy, because sometimes just talking helps. I've also learned over time, that music helps too. But when I need to talk, I need to talk, and music just doesn't cut it; because, while there is loads of music out there that very accurately describes how I'm feeling (when you're depressed there's no one like Morrissey to make you feel like you're not the only one who's a total loser), there are times when I need someone to be a sounding board and help me work through the morass flooding my brain.

So, how to tell when I'm having a crisis? Well, I'd like to think that I'm not normally stark raving mad and that you can kinda guess when I'm being creepy-weird or "strange." A good indicator is what videos I'm posting on Facebook. If there's loads of the more depressing stuff of The Smiths/Morrissey, or Peter Murphy, Ultravox, The Fixx, and so on, or stuff that suggests I might be angry at someone (like my Oingo Boingo fest this morning), or if I start posting a lot of someecards I've made myself...then it's a pretty fair bet that I'm not in a Polyanna state of mind!

I know it's not your job to take care of me, but I would like to think that we're good enough friends that I can count on you when I'm ready to engage in activity better suited to a horror movie. Hopefully, now that you know I have this problem, I won't be so afraid to let you know when I do need an intervention. But letting you know was the harder part, I think.

And on that note, I will leave you with one of the songs that I pretty much always listen to when I'm feeling worthless.