she is a lesbian, radical feminist, cat lover, bibliophile, non-smoker, unitarian universalist (though she doesn't go to fellowship on a regular basis) and in the process of becoming athletic again. she dreams of being jeanne d' arc and swooping in and saving those that need saved (though she'd rather not be burned at the stake). she is a loyal friend who will do anything she can for those she loves, but she can flakey sometimes when her depression flares up. she is a loner. a southerner self-transplanted to the pacific northwest in 1998 and now believes that it doesn't rain enough here. she's known for her honesty, she can't help it, its the only way to be. she is 4'8" tall, and round. she has natural blonde hair and she also has blue eyes. she is very intense. she hates small and large crowds, she prefers the one on one or the one on a few. she has no idea what she wants to do with her life, though she would like to see more of the world than what she has seen so far (a good part of the continental united states) and she very much wants to be a mother. finally, she has huge crushes on alix olson and carolyn gage (these are from a far).

i've hit crisis mode again. we have our suspcions why, but those don't do anything, all we know is that brooke is in crisis. i told my therapist it was about time, i've not been through one like this in a few months.

its the kind of pain that only people who have been there get. its the type of pain that makes me feel every second and that every second feels like a minute and every minute an hour. its the type of pain that i need to run from but i can't because its in my own head and the type of pain killers i take don't work instantly they take weeks to kick in.

so many people say they get it because they've suffered the blues. and these days depression, in a good effort to make it more accepted, is being treated by the masses in a way that all they see is that you take a pill and its okay. they advertise the drugs like they advertise drugs for hair loss, viagra, and allergies. in an effort to lift the stigma they have relegated it to something like the flu. and its not. and it remains a stigma and insurance companies aren't required by law to provide equal benefits in treatment. and state governments when they have to make cuts those of us with mental illness disabilities get our meds and our treatments cut because we're not considered full class citizens, our illnesses don't count and the result is we die because of it. no, this is not the flu.

and i am in crisis. and very few people understand. the only way to make people understand is to bring up the analagy of cancer. my illness goes into remission at times and i am less fearful of my own death, but then it comes out of remission and my life is as threatned as anyone who's cancer has come out of remission. and then we throw new drugs at it and wait to see if this time the tumor will shrink, disappear. it is a waiting game. only difference is there are no tests besides my own judgement about whether the drugs are actually working. the science of tracking this tumor doesn't exist in anything except words.

and i wait. each agonizing moment of every day i wait. and i wonder over and over what it is that i am doing wrong, being told that i have to be proactive- i have to exercise, eat better, get up, get out of my apartment- and when i can't, when its nearly impossible to get out of bed just to go to the bathroom i feel the weight of the blame on my shoulders. aind my pain only increases, because it is a sign that i am a failure. that if i were a better person this illness wouldn't have the grip on me that it did. that if i were a better person i wouldn't be here over and over and over.

and so now its me and my pain. and there's nothing anyone can do to make it go away. its not about how much i am loved or apprecciated or anything external it is about a pain inside and so great that my life becomes its prisoner.