Ok.I made a massively long post before about how things had not been going great for me in the last year or year and a half emotionally. I said that I had been diagnosed with something else in addition to the panic disorder and major depression, and that conventions were harder for me now than they were in the past. 

I thought about it a long time, and I feel like I should somehow clarify before Chicago Tardis, in part so I don't need to explain things a million times. Because while love talking to you all, but this is kind of charged subject for me still, so it's a bit hard to talk about in actual words, and typing is easier. 

I guess I am telling this story chronologically? Why not. 

Last February, in the course of a week and a half, a bunch of things happened. I'd already been getting to the end of my rope and had been pulling away from life, and these things just sort of tipped me over the edge emotionally.

1) I lost my job. Defense budget cuts. Awesome.

2) Two days later, Gallifrey One happened. Normally, this is yaaay a happy time for me, and in many ways it was. It started off on Thursday as kind of a cleansing thing, you know? I reconnected with people, like real actual human beings, because for the last five years or so I've been kind of segregated from people with similar interests, since we moved to Kansas, and even WORSE when I took that DoA job. 

3) Friday at Gally was... a bit difficult to handle. I usually spend Gally hanging out with folks, and keeping Jim hydrated and fed cos he really does work his ass off in the autograph room... so I was on that duty. But there were just so many PEOPLE. I actually stopped going to panels a few years ago that were in crowded rooms. I just couldn't handle it any more. Bizarrely, I have no problem being ON panels in crowded rooms. I guess I need that barrier of the table or the stage to feel safe? I don't know. But the crowd level was... crazy to me. The noise level and everything really just about killed me. I've been prone to panic attacks, but in most cases have kept them under control with breathing exercises and distracting myself, so it wasn't terrible. 

4) Saturday at Gally was FAR more than I could cope with. It was the largest day of the largest year since I've been doing it. This, added with rushing back and forth trying to take care of autograph line people to be sure they were hydrated and fed... I ended up having a misunderstanding and personal conflict with someone regarding the manner in which to do this. It was nobody's fault, high stress situation, we worked it all out the next day, but it ended in a total meltdown. Like... just total freakout session. I went off somewhere by myself and completely lost it for a good half  hour. When I came back, I tried to just sit in the lobby and tune everything out, but was still not doing well. God Bless Charlie Jane Anders for getting me outta there for a couple of hours, otherwise it would have been SO much badness. 

5) The next week, after we returned from Gally, some badddddd shit went down with some friends. Like... super-bad shit. Maybe less bad for them, but due to the state I was already in, I kinda shut down. For a couple of months. Yeah. Months. 

So... that all happened. It actually took until some time in March before I could get my shit together enough to even GET to a therapist. Which is not cheap when you don't have insurance. Or a job. I was still quite a wreck, and ended up having another screaming crying meltdown during the initial interview and diagnosis (dude, I was such a wreck back then)... I came in as a walkin and ended up seeing three people total before the day was over--a social worker, a psychiatrist and a a psychiatric PA type person and ended up walking out the door with a list of diagnoses as long as my arm--major depressive disorder, a panic disorder, and Aspergers. Yeah. Buried the lead on that one, I know. 

Folks who read my tumblr know quite a bit about it. I've been sort of using tumblr as a therapeutic catharsis sort of thing. It certainly explains a lot of the problems I've had in my life with dealing/relating to people, and not understand/misunderstanding what was happening. I know some of the con friends I have told have been like... noooo you look so normallllll. I know they mean well, but, um...l know I probably pass decently for normal. I have put a lot of effort into it since I was very small, to blend in. My mom was obsessed with me looking and behaving normal, so I sort of picked up that was more important than my own sanity and self-care, and focused on that for so long, I literally gave myself a nervous breakdown last winter over the stress of trying to do all the things normal people do , because that's what normal people do. 

So... I might be a little different at the con this year. I had a few "tester" cons, Wiscon and Worldcon (OMG worldcon was tough) this summer... and they were challenging, but Tara and Tempest were kind enough to let me glom onto them for dear life. I'll probably be glomming onto Tara again really hard at Tardis (also, I'm working the Green Room, so, y'know... hiding). I'm probably going to be trying a lot less hard to act normal. Cos it's stressful. And truthfully--I'm still pretty fragile. I overload on auditory and visual stimuli really easily, which I always have, but it seems to kick me in the teeth a lot harder. I may be sitting in the lobby with earplugs in. It's ok. It's fine to come talk to me anyways. I can still hear you, I'm just using them to block out some of the echo and such. 

I'm still fighting with meds. Xanax works, but knocks me out, the other stuff I was on didn't work quite as well and was more expensive. So, six of one, half dozen of the other, I suppose. I'm sure you've noticed me just sort of zone out during conversations and shut down. Too much stimuli. Still trying to find something that will help with both that, and the panic that's brought on by too much stimuli, and from other stuff. I actually have panic attacks over stuff I love and enjoy, just as much as things that upset me. Which is a real bitch. Dinosaurs on a Spaceship literally fucked me up for hours. HOURS. 

I *still* don't have a job. Had interviews with the State Library of Kansas, Library of Congress, and several local library systems for director positions, and haven't landed anything. I've applied for everything under the sun from tech jobs working for NARA in the underground caves in Lenexa to clerk jobs at university libraries to librarian positions reporting directly to Chief of Naval Operations (which I am still under consideration for). I'm not sure how I get the interview, then manage to not land the job (could be the people skills thing, I don't know). But, I figure I ought to catch everyone in the world up on that. 

We're only making it to CT because we have some amazing friends who are helping us out this year. You know who you are. It's going to be a challenge for me, but CT and Gally are pretty much my only opportunities to interact socially with people who give a shit about the same things I do, so I see it as kind of important to my emotional health even if it is hard on my senses. 

So, that's my story. I'm still coming. Still please talk to me. Don't treat me like a weirdo (please). I'm still fun. I  promise to only tell you all about the sexual orientations of everyone in the DCU if you actually ask and only rant about Sherlock fans if it's warranted. 

OH. And also: my thumb doesn't work. It's been almost a year since the injruy, it's time to give it up for lost. I may ask you to open things for me.