"I cannot go to school today," said little Peggy Ann McKay...

Oh, I talked to the doctor yesterday. My bones are fine. Take that, inner hypochondriac! Now shut up!

When I was little I was a total hypochondriac, terribly so. I was the kid who read up on flu symptoms to get an excuse to miss school. In my head, I'd turn some gas into stomach cancer and aches and pains into... well, I'd find some rare condition for it to be. I wanted to be sick, hurt, damaged... I wanted the attention and the privileges I associated with being sick, and I figured that the pain would be okay on account of everyone telling me how brave I was, what a good patient I was... Mind you, my mom probably would have switched to "Buck it up, kid, you'll survive" after the first 24 hours, but I was young, these ignorances must be forgiven.

Anyway, I outgrew that, along with my childhood biblio-kleptomania and my violent tendencies (mostly). But it's still there, a little, it's just in the back of my head, suppressed by my common sense and the guilt I feel every time I feel like I'm inconveniencing someone. The trouble is, I can recognize if I have actual physical symptoms, but I can't always tell how bad they are, so a couple years ago when my chest was so tender that I couldn't lay down on my stomach without crying in pain, I went and looked up possible explanations, and all I could come up with was breast cancer or an infection, both of which are fairly serious... and hardly ever affect otherwise healthy teenage girls. But I had myself totally convinced I was going to die or at least have to get chemo before I went to the doctor and she informed me that it was a perfectly normal condition where the tissue is a little lumpy and there's some inflammation. I think I was a little bummed that I wasn't going to be some abnormal example of how statistics can go wrong, though.

This probably was closely tied to my general attention-grubbing as a kid. It's kinda funny that for so long I was so determined to be noticed, any way possible, and now I can't look a person in the eyes when I have to talk about myself. I'm brief and I talk very quickly if I introduce myself-- most people know me by the first syllable of my name, as the rest of it gets lost in my effort to shift the attention away. I went from being the girl who teased her hair and died half of it white to play Cruella DeVil for a chorus performance to being the girl who can't manage to say her own name in an introduction.

Anyway, I'm still a hypochondriac, but only mentally. I'm constantly trying to explain my slightly problematic personality traits as mental disorders, when in fact they're probably not even that big a deal to anyone but me. I mean, I've pretty much figured out that I'm shy and that I get panic attacks in crowds and social situations. But I'll hear about say, narcissistic personality disorder, and I'll think, "I want attention sometimes, maybe I'm a narcissist!" (This is funnier if you remember that I have the self-esteem of a particularly disgusting old penny that's been on the sidewalk for weeks). The worst disadvantage of this is that hypochondria is a mental disorder itself (albeit a common, minor one) so I can be a hypochondriac about having hypochondria, and never know for sure if I'm actually a hypochondriac or if I'm just being hypochondriacal about my hypochondriac tendencies.

Wow. Six versions of the word "hypochondria" in one sentence. New record?

You Are 32% Hypochondriac

You can deal well with being sick - even if your symptoms are a little scary. You're occasionally prone to worry about your health, but only when you have pretty strange symptoms.

Are You a Hypochondriac?

"Woman's intutition is like feathers on an arrow-- it may help the flight to truth."

Tonight was the Student Activities Fair for this semester. You probably don't remember my mentioning that the Student Activities Fair for last semester triggered a panic attack and sent me spiraling into a very bad depression. Thus, I consider going at all (and NOT panicking) to be a massive victory on my part.

Of course, this time Closer and Mistake were with me, as was Loquatia and Tibicina, who, you may not remember, is an old friend from high school who we hang out with sometimes. I always do better in crowds if I'm with people I know and am comfortable with. However, I had a couple things against me-- for starters, I was leaning on a crutch, causing people to stare at me a great deal as I gimped about, and more significantly, it was not just the five of us; a friend of Loquatia's came with us, and the fact that I'm gonna call him Cute Chem Major might indicate the issue (the "Cute" part, my only aversion to Chem Majors is that they actually like that stuff).

Cute Chem Major was looking for someone to go with, not wanting to wander about alone, and he asked Loquatia, but she was really uncomfortable with the idea of just going with him-- I think it was a combination of worrying about not knowing what to do if the conversation died (never an issue with the garrulous Mistake about) and her general uneasiness with anything that seems to resemble a date/guy being romantically interested in her. While I haven't a clue how much truth is in that thought-- we know I'm bad at the "detect attraction" spell-casting on account of my refusing to believe KTMack was actually interested at all in me until Mistake and Closer teamed up to prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt-- I can say that she was certainly futzing with her hair for longer than usual.

Of course, she might have been doing that because I was putting on makeup and fixing my own hair, but I wasn't doing it for that reason as I hadn't actually met the kid yet. No, really.

Anyway, yes. Regardless, I invited her along with us, and then when she felt bad about bailing on him, I suggested she just have him come along. We all ate dinner together-- a bit of a trick with the crutches, but I was down to one so it wasn't that bad. I at least was able to get my own food.

The fair itself wasn't actually that interesting-- by this point I've heard about most of the clubs, so it wasn't news. The Republican Club and Pro-Life Organization's table was at the exact opposite room from that of the Democrat Club and Pro-Choice Organization; there was Frisbee spin-art, palm reading, body art, and sign-making, though I passed on the body art (don't know how long it lasts and I'm going home next weekend-- "Happy Birthday, Mummy, have a heart attack!") and the palm reading (long line). Other than that, though, not horribly exciting. Nerf crossbow practice at the Archery Club table, and the Historical Weaponry people were fighting with padded swords and chain-mail hauberks in one corner.

Free stuff was basically limited to candy, make-your-own-Valentines (Mistake made a really mean one for Closer that Loquatia totally didn't get until it was explained), the occasional pamphlet, condoms disguised as matchbooks (or not, there was lots of selection) and pro-life balloons. Since there's not much to do at these things except go around and take all the free stuff, we didn't last too long before we (all six of us) wandered back to Mistake's dorm to sit around, talk, and watch Psych. We split by eleven, in the interest of letting Mistake sleep-- she had to wake up early tomorrow, she said. So did Tibicina, and, I'm sure, Loquatia, though that's more "want to" than "have to." I, for one, intend to sleep in until noon. Because it's Saturday, dammit.

You Are a Life Blogger!

Your blog is the story of your life - a living diary. If it happens, you blog it. And make it as entertaining as possible.

What Kind of Blogger Are You?

"Win as if you were used to it, lose as if you enjoyed it for a change"

For a cool read, check out Slightly Drunk, a blog about the misadventures of a guy whose life seems to be most unfortunate-- but very amusing to those who don't have to live it themselves. Not entirely sure he doesn't deserve some of it, but regardless, you should check him out because it's funny, unusual, and contains few grammatical errors. I love it when bloggers know how to write.

---------------------

Deandron amuses me. He's seen me like four times since I got the crutches, and the first time I was headed down the hall towards my room. Deandron's in the lounge, so his door faces straight down the hallway, and his desk is right there-- so he heard the "tch-tch" noise as I headed down the hall and glanced over, went back to what he was doing, then did a total double take, stared at me, then waved. I waved back.

I've passed him a couple times since then and it's always just "hi," like usual, then today he stopped me in the dining hall as I hobbled around on one crutch to get some juice. "Hey," he said, "I'm not sure what the tactful way to say this is, but what's with the crutches?" I made my best effort not to laugh at him, since I knew this whole time that he was curious about the crutches but I figured he just wasn't able to stop and talk. It's kinda funny to know that he was looking for the "tactful" way to ask about them. Is tact really necessary when asking why a person is on crutches? I mean, how does one ask that in a non-tactful manner? "Whoa, what'd you do, fall on your ass on the sidewalk?" That might not be tactful. Or, "Man, you must be reeeeeally clumsy!" But honestly, coming from Deandron, that would just make me laugh.

Maybe, "Haha, you're on crutches, sucks to be you!"

---------------------

What's really annoying about the knee is that this morning? It didn't hurt. Like, a little, but not that bad. After it was such a pain (literally) since Friday, I spend less than a day on crutches and it decides to get better? As much as I'd love to attribute it to the amazing healing powers of hobbling about, it started to hurt as soon as I started putting more weight on it and less on the crutches. Thus I have decided that that particular limb called in sick despite the fact that it is perfectly okay and just wants to have a week's vacation, so it may sit back and go fishing or something without having to do silly, mundane things like dance or do yoga or bear weight. At this point the right leg has figured out this sweet deal Left Leg's come up with, and it's starting to complain about how the extra work is SO HARD and it's gonna need to call in sick soon, too, it's feeling a little poorly.

Meanwhile my arms are just demanding to know why the heck they have to work overtime just because Left Leg's on vacation.

I missed the call from the doctor today that would have told me the results of the X-ray and the anemia test that they did while I was there, and while I'm not really worried-- I think I'd feel it more if it was a break, even if it was just a fracture, and I actually haven't taken my iron pills in months so I will be stunned if the anemia magically went away-- I find it annoying that the confidentiality business means they can't even leave me a message saying "You're fine!" Instead I have to call them back tomorrow-- not today, they have annoying hours-- and meanwhile my inner hypochondriac is saying "You broke your kneecap! You dislocated something! You have bone necrosis like in your mom's hip and will need a new knee! You have... uhm... cancer! Yeah, that's it!"

That's why I strongly dislike my inner hypochondriac and try to smack him around whenever he acts up. Pesky little bugger.

---------------------

Today was my first group therapy session for the semester. The group's very different this semester-- The guy who runs it says that there's three of us who are coming from the last group, but the other two were both missing today and may or may not come next week. The group seems less likely to gradually loose members like last time, at least-- everyone seemed really into it, and willing to talk, and I'm pretty sure only one or two of us were pressured into it by psychiatrists and/or police officers (It's frustrating because I signed a confidentiality notice so I'd feel bad talking about some of the... characters I've met, even with no names or identifying features). Seriously, though, everyone seems nice, and very talkative for a group about difficulty communicating.

The problem is, once again, everyone's there because they have issues saying no, or issues talking about their feelings, or resolving conflict. I mean, I'm not the only one with issues with small talk and general sociability, but I'm one of maybe two. And while I have issues talking about serious matters so people don't get offended, seeing as I have the social sensitivity of a partially digested sock, my main problem-- just getting up the nerve to talk to people at all-- will likely not be addressed sufficiently. Plus there's the fact that once again, there are attractive guys in the group-- more than last time, even-- which means that I can't mention the fact that the only thing worse than small talk is small talk with attractive guys.

I at least brought up my inability to make eye contact or say hi with people unless they address me first, so everyone will understand why I don't greet them if they pass me on the sidewalk. I forgot to do that right away last semester and I'm pretty sure I insulted someone by not acknowledging them. This is the only place I can declare my social fallacies before they affect my social interactions and I totally intend to take full advantage of that fact...

I Am 92% Pure

I'm so innocent, it's almost like I'm not human. Taking this test is probably the naughtiest thing I've done in a while. Well, this is depressing.

How Pure Are You?