From February 15th

Last month, I signed up for an MRI study. Researchers at the U are studying the brains of people with schizophrenia and people without it to see if there is a difference in brain function and appearance. Always a sucker for a good research study, I showed up to the first meeting. I filled out reams of paperwork, release forms and questionnaires (do I often feel depressed? Do I hear voices in my head that tell me what to do? Do I have visions or see things that other people can’t see? Do I believe that god or aliens or demons control my thoughts and actions?). At the second meeting, I removed all 12 of my piercings, my underwire bra and my belt, before climbing into the MRI tube. It was a very interesting experience. I would have to lie still for various amounts of time as the machine scanned my brain from different angles. A loud beeping noise would continue during the scan, and occasionally the entire table would shake. Despite the noise and cold, I nearly fell asleep. (I kept trying not to because I was afraid I would jerk awake….I was supposed to lie totally still.)
At the end, I got three printouts of my brain. The lab assistant said I had a lovely looking brain, and there was nothing wrong with me (no tumors, no Alzheimer’s). It’s strange to say it, but I felt relieved and happy and just so proud of my brain. I can't figure out how to scan it right now, but I'll post a picture of my brain soon.

I seem to have developed two different patterns of behavior. The first is where I fall into a big Ditch of Despair, and sit there off and on for a few weeks, fretting and thinking I suck, eating profuse amounts of cake, and indulging in major self destruction until I shake it off and feel totally find again.
The other is where I become completely obsessed with something new (a class, a hobby, an activity) and avoid all other parts of my life (cooking, working out, social life, reading, recreation) so I can concentrate wholly on this new thing, until a few months go by and I grow overwhelmed and frustrated with it and then stressed out as I catch up on my previously normal life.
I’ve been knee-deep in both patterns for the last month, and I’m tired of it. Damn winter. Damn hand-building ceramics class.
I need to be nicer to myself, and cultivate the ability to just SIT STILL for more than twenty fucking seconds. I have my family’s Flurry Disease, where we behave like a cross between a whirling dervish and a hurricane, funneling our nervous energy into active worry or awe-inspiring productivity until we collapse, either from heart attacks or from exhaustion. Believe it or not, I’m one of the more mellow of my clan, and I still fight impulses to go, move, do, hurry, faster, more, now. Constantly. Every day.
So that’s where I’ve been. Wallowing and living at the ceramics studio. Sounds like fun, huh?