Classes have started again and I am back to staying in on the weekends to work on work. From my readings:
The term [rhinencephalon] was firstly used by Saint-Hillarie [sic] to name a one-eyed monster.
I giggled because I am a child. However, Isidore Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire actually studied extensively abnormalities in physiological development and he actually looked at the congenital disorder cyclopia. (Don’t click unless you want to see grotesque physical malformations.) Rhinencephala are those born with a specific form of cyclopia, rhinencephaly, which is characterized by a proboscis protruding from the head. (See previous click warning.) Rhinencephaly can be present with edocephaly, which roughly translates to genital-like head, because the proboscis from either actually looks like a penis stitched on a head. But edocephaly is a type of otocephaly, which is a (lethal) cephalic disorder of the lower jaw, while rhinencephaly is a type of arhinencephaly, which is a (lethal) cephalic disorder of the nose.
The prefix rhin- means of the nose. (See also: Etymology of rhinoceros.) The proboscis in rhinencephaly is a nasal malformation. Arhinencephaly is the congenital absence of the olfactory system. And if you’re not confused enough, the rhinencephalon is now the part of the brain concerned with olfactory functions, arhinencephaly is now called holoprosencephaly, and cyclopia is a type of holoprosencephaly known as alobar holoprosencephaly.
But rhinencephaly is still rhinencephaly, so at least something consistent.
And I still found a reference to the penis.
(I am a child.)
ME: One of the triggers for this depressive episode is the breakup.
THERAPIST: What breakup?
ME: I never told you?
ME: Sorry. I have a terrible habit of not talking about major relationships until they are over.
The way you let “social justice warrior” drip from your snarled lip is the same way “angry feminist” does from those of many men.— Amber Ying (@diabola) December 4, 2013
This was posted on Twitter but I wanted to post it here because I’m self-absorbed and self-advertising and I also can’t emphasize enough how arrogant and myopic someone must be to sneer at “social justice” and “social justice warriors” for overreacting, being too angry, and not doing “real” activism. My activism may not be your activism but if all you have for me is criticism about how I am so aggressive, then you are not engaging with what I am saying. You are the one polluting social justice with your dismissal. You are the one choosing to silence me.
Because this phenomenon often happens down the privilege hierarchy. A white person telling me that I am too angry is being racist. An abled person telling me that I am too angry is being ableist. A man telling me that I am too angry is being sexist. They are using their privilege to muzzle me. I don’t have the privilege to strike back. I won’t get the same result. It’s not the same thing.
Now do you understand?
If you haven’t read Allie Brosh’s blog Hyperbole and a Half or her book of the same title, then you really should. It’s a mix of hilarious mishaps and challenging introspection. When it’s hilarious, it’s super hilarious. When it’s challenging .. well .. ready yourself for some self-care afterwards.
Brosh’s experience with depression isn’t exactly like mine but there are some things that are exactly right. For example, this is every conversation I had with almost everyone who asked about the details of my depression:
This was me last week, minus the concerned questioning boyfriend:
I had the urge to cry continuously all last week. No matter where I had to be or what I had to do or who I was with, I was ready to burst into tears at any moment. It was so inexplicably frustrating. I had shit to do but all I wanted to do was cry. It took all my energy not to cry so I had no energy to do shit. Finally I got to the point where I did shit while crying. Still annoying and still not that effective but shit still got done, yo.
It’s hard facing a world where it’s acceptable for only certain illnesses to be seen. It’s even harder when the one of the symptoms of the illness is wanting to die. (Often you want to die as a result of symptoms from other diseases making your life a miserable hell but that is often more accepted because people can see how your life is a miserable hell.) Death is a severe subject and people often feel obligated to keep someone from dying. Depression is a bother for everyone, in one form or another.
For me, depression is the default state of life (unless I am hypomanic). Sometimes I’m lucky enough to enter remission. But when depressed, wanting to die is normal. I wake up expecting to want to die. I go to sleep expecting that I want to die the next morning. It’s a pleasant surprise when I don’t want to die (and not hypomanic). If there is anything I want people to understand about depression, it’s how wanting to die is normalized. No matter what face I show and no matter what I say, there is some part of me that doesn’t want to exist.
But that doesn’t mean that I don’t get shit done. It just takes longer because I am sick. Time and energy are used for basic survival, to just reach baseline for the healthy.
And then I have to do everything else.