Yesterday was just not so hot
Jun. 9th, 2005 04:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
omorkaSo yesterday I had an all-day in-district workshop. Now first, that meant I had to be on daystar schedule. So I went to bed the night before in time to get four and a half hours' sleep. No, that's not much, but as long as I only have one night like that in a row, I'm decently functional. Don't ask me to multiply two five-digit numbers in my head or anything, but I do all right. However, I went to bed and then stared at the ceiling for two and a half hours. I got around two hours of sleep, not all in one chunk. That's actually enough for me to be functional for the morning . . . but after about eight hours, I start glitching.
Then we managed to leave late enough for me to not be able to get breakfast. (This occurred because I made the grave mistake of asking the Spouse where something was, when he didn't know. The Spouse, being a basically helpful person, then spent ten minutes looking for it (unsuccessfully), despite my asking him to just come on and leave.) This would not have been a big issue except that there's really only one place within walking distance of the Fishbowl (where the workshop was being held) to get lunch.
Oh, and the workshop was on Preventing Student Self-Mutilation and Suicide. Most. Depressing. Workshop. EVER. Probably the worst part of it all was realizing I was in a room full of . . . I almost want to say "neurotypicals," but I'm not an Aspie and so I don't get to steal their language. Mundanes. But not in the usual fannish sense of the word - people who have never been depressed, whose neurochemistry is incapable of holding onto sadness or angst for more than a few minutes at a time, maybe an hour or two at most. Perky people, most of them intermediate school or middle school counselors. (One of whom asked me an academic question that tells me she's also incapable of correctly counseling an eighth grader what courses to sign up for in ninth grade, but that's a different rant.) People who think "oh, it's not that bad! Just cheer up!" is somehow useful advice, and not a slap in the face. People who have never, even in their worst moments, had anything resembling suicidal ideation.
How can people like that actually counsel a depressed child or teen? If you've never walked the path down into the Shadows, how can you show anyone the way back out? At the very least, it seems to me like "I've been there, and I survived" is better than "Oh, just cheer up!".
Anyway, we finished the morning part of the workshop (the self-mutilation part), without my strangling Mr. S, our German teacher, whom I can't stand and who was the only other teacher from Ramton there (he claimed, very early, that most kids who self-mutilate do it solely for the attention, which judgment I knew he was making mostly off of his experience with ADHD Kid - not a typical case, dude!) and broke for lunch. Here I made my first glitch - rather than ask someone I didn't know for a ride to get lunch, or walk in the admittedly oppressive heat to the one place in walking distance, I decided to just eat out of the vending machines. Well, duh, dear, it's just past the end of the year and they're half-empty; plus, it's a school, which means all the drinks are fizzy. (I lucked out and found the one machine that had lemonade.) So, yeah, not a terribly satisfying lunch - really more of a snack.
However, I did get complimented on the Solomon's Knot shawl several times (I really should post a picture) and got requests to sell it, or make a similar one to sell, from two people at the workshop. I told the second one that to make a profit, my asking price would have to be about $50 (that's the cost of materials plus my time calculated at minwage - if I calculated my time as my professional time, it'd be closer to $130, but it seems like cheating to charge that for hobby time), and she said that she'd seen them in stores for closer to $70, so that seemed fair enough. That's almost tempting enough to do it - Berroco Zen is kind of fun to work with, after all. (I'm probably going to end up making this thing three times for myself, anyway - I was working on the second one, in a Crystal Palace ladder-ribbon yarn that the Yarn Store in the Heights had in clearance, during breaks.)
So we went back to the workshop, right after lunch, and what happens? They turn out the lights and show us a video replete with dramatizations of suicides. Guaranteed to put half of the room to sleep and make the other half of us queasy. Grr. After that, we went over the district procedure for What To Do If A Child May Be Suicidal. (I realize now, having viewed that, that what MSMS did with me that one time was probably required by law. Too bad for everyone involved that they decided to read my e-mail well after the crisis was over . . . .) The four presenters kept drifting off-topic; in particular, the ex-cop kept slopping over into homicidal kids, which may be another major issue but not the topic of the workshop. (Besides, as Debate pointed out after the reservations shooting this year, if anyone tried to go Columbine at Ramton, they'd have knives in the colors of three different gangs in their backs before they got off their second shot.)
One thing that was mentioned twice was that having an active church life was a "protective factor" for most students against depression and suicidal ideation. Shortly afterwards, it was mentioned that gay and lesbian students are one of the categories most prone to suicide. I mentioned the incongruity to one of the presenters (the one who offered to buy the shawl) during the break, and she said she wished I'd brought that up during the discussion. (Now that I've seen this story [read the posts for June 8], I really wish I had, too.)
The plan was to take the bus from the Fishbowl to a bookstore out on Hwy 6 once I got out. This plan worked fine in theory. In practice it resulted in my having to walk about three blocks in full sunlight, and waiting for two busses (a total of just over an hour wait) in minimal shade. And of course I forgot to bring a hat. I only got a little pinked, not actually burned, but I felt dumb and dehydrated afterwards. Rage had mentioned he'd try to swing by the bookstore to say hi, but he ended up having to stay late for one of his summer classes and missed me, so I didn't even get to see him (although a prior graduate from Ramton (not one of mine) whose name I couldn't remember was there, and we waved to each other).
The restaurant the Spouse and I decided on on the way home turned out to be closed temporarily. The Spouse (after some minor dithering) took me home and went and picked up dinner at another location for us. Meanwhile, I ended up getting into an IM conversation with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
memeslayer over an emotionally very sensitive topic for me on an empty stomach and no sleep. I don't think I actually glitched during the conversation, but I wasn't very clear, either, I don't think. Ah, well.
Then I went to bed and overslept by several hours. Ah, well. But I did manage to call Rice and get registered for their gifted&talented workshop next week, so that was good. And I did so in a non-sleep-deprived state. However, if I am going to avoid the sleep cycle fiasco from repeating itself, I'm going to have to find people/things to keep me busy during the day next week. (I should callstarcat_jewel and cheshirebast . . .)
Edit: Oh, and I just found the stuff I asked the Spouse about! So at least that's settled.
Then we managed to leave late enough for me to not be able to get breakfast. (This occurred because I made the grave mistake of asking the Spouse where something was, when he didn't know. The Spouse, being a basically helpful person, then spent ten minutes looking for it (unsuccessfully), despite my asking him to just come on and leave.) This would not have been a big issue except that there's really only one place within walking distance of the Fishbowl (where the workshop was being held) to get lunch.
Oh, and the workshop was on Preventing Student Self-Mutilation and Suicide. Most. Depressing. Workshop. EVER. Probably the worst part of it all was realizing I was in a room full of . . . I almost want to say "neurotypicals," but I'm not an Aspie and so I don't get to steal their language. Mundanes. But not in the usual fannish sense of the word - people who have never been depressed, whose neurochemistry is incapable of holding onto sadness or angst for more than a few minutes at a time, maybe an hour or two at most. Perky people, most of them intermediate school or middle school counselors. (One of whom asked me an academic question that tells me she's also incapable of correctly counseling an eighth grader what courses to sign up for in ninth grade, but that's a different rant.) People who think "oh, it's not that bad! Just cheer up!" is somehow useful advice, and not a slap in the face. People who have never, even in their worst moments, had anything resembling suicidal ideation.
How can people like that actually counsel a depressed child or teen? If you've never walked the path down into the Shadows, how can you show anyone the way back out? At the very least, it seems to me like "I've been there, and I survived" is better than "Oh, just cheer up!".
Anyway, we finished the morning part of the workshop (the self-mutilation part), without my strangling Mr. S, our German teacher, whom I can't stand and who was the only other teacher from Ramton there (he claimed, very early, that most kids who self-mutilate do it solely for the attention, which judgment I knew he was making mostly off of his experience with ADHD Kid - not a typical case, dude!) and broke for lunch. Here I made my first glitch - rather than ask someone I didn't know for a ride to get lunch, or walk in the admittedly oppressive heat to the one place in walking distance, I decided to just eat out of the vending machines. Well, duh, dear, it's just past the end of the year and they're half-empty; plus, it's a school, which means all the drinks are fizzy. (I lucked out and found the one machine that had lemonade.) So, yeah, not a terribly satisfying lunch - really more of a snack.
However, I did get complimented on the Solomon's Knot shawl several times (I really should post a picture) and got requests to sell it, or make a similar one to sell, from two people at the workshop. I told the second one that to make a profit, my asking price would have to be about $50 (that's the cost of materials plus my time calculated at minwage - if I calculated my time as my professional time, it'd be closer to $130, but it seems like cheating to charge that for hobby time), and she said that she'd seen them in stores for closer to $70, so that seemed fair enough. That's almost tempting enough to do it - Berroco Zen is kind of fun to work with, after all. (I'm probably going to end up making this thing three times for myself, anyway - I was working on the second one, in a Crystal Palace ladder-ribbon yarn that the Yarn Store in the Heights had in clearance, during breaks.)
So we went back to the workshop, right after lunch, and what happens? They turn out the lights and show us a video replete with dramatizations of suicides. Guaranteed to put half of the room to sleep and make the other half of us queasy. Grr. After that, we went over the district procedure for What To Do If A Child May Be Suicidal. (I realize now, having viewed that, that what MSMS did with me that one time was probably required by law. Too bad for everyone involved that they decided to read my e-mail well after the crisis was over . . . .) The four presenters kept drifting off-topic; in particular, the ex-cop kept slopping over into homicidal kids, which may be another major issue but not the topic of the workshop. (Besides, as Debate pointed out after the reservations shooting this year, if anyone tried to go Columbine at Ramton, they'd have knives in the colors of three different gangs in their backs before they got off their second shot.)
One thing that was mentioned twice was that having an active church life was a "protective factor" for most students against depression and suicidal ideation. Shortly afterwards, it was mentioned that gay and lesbian students are one of the categories most prone to suicide. I mentioned the incongruity to one of the presenters (the one who offered to buy the shawl) during the break, and she said she wished I'd brought that up during the discussion. (Now that I've seen this story [read the posts for June 8], I really wish I had, too.)
The plan was to take the bus from the Fishbowl to a bookstore out on Hwy 6 once I got out. This plan worked fine in theory. In practice it resulted in my having to walk about three blocks in full sunlight, and waiting for two busses (a total of just over an hour wait) in minimal shade. And of course I forgot to bring a hat. I only got a little pinked, not actually burned, but I felt dumb and dehydrated afterwards. Rage had mentioned he'd try to swing by the bookstore to say hi, but he ended up having to stay late for one of his summer classes and missed me, so I didn't even get to see him (although a prior graduate from Ramton (not one of mine) whose name I couldn't remember was there, and we waved to each other).
The restaurant the Spouse and I decided on on the way home turned out to be closed temporarily. The Spouse (after some minor dithering) took me home and went and picked up dinner at another location for us. Meanwhile, I ended up getting into an IM conversation with
memeslayer over an emotionally very sensitive topic for me on an empty stomach and no sleep. I don't think I actually glitched during the conversation, but I wasn't very clear, either, I don't think. Ah, well.Then I went to bed and overslept by several hours. Ah, well. But I did manage to call Rice and get registered for their gifted&talented workshop next week, so that was good. And I did so in a non-sleep-deprived state. However, if I am going to avoid the sleep cycle fiasco from repeating itself, I'm going to have to find people/things to keep me busy during the day next week. (I should call
starcat_jewel and cheshirebast . . .)Edit: Oh, and I just found the stuff I asked the Spouse about! So at least that's settled.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-06-09 10:49 pm (UTC)yes, it's pretty bad
Date: 2005-06-10 04:04 am (UTC)This banning of Bach's music as not Christian enough for right thinking is just more proof of how idiotic the whole reprograming tough love bullshit is.
I can't speak rationally about the inspecting the underwear part of the dress code.
Re: yes, it's pretty bad
Date: 2005-06-10 06:23 am (UTC)And the bare fact is all I can post without going homicidal.
Re: yes, it's pretty bad
Date: 2005-06-10 05:17 pm (UTC)but high church Lutherans do wine and Latin masses from time to time, so that was sure to confuse someone who's more woried about underwear dress codes afer all
no hat?
you wear your hat at festival in the dark. I count on you wearing hats.
and now for something completely different
re the guidance counselors not understanding depression or suicidal ideation -- sigh. there was the time I tried to explain my cyclical depression (despite having a well developed sense of whimsy) to
Re: no hat?
Date: 2005-06-10 04:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-10 01:48 pm (UTC)