All posts for the month April, 2012

Merry Christmas, Emily

Published April 30, 2012 by Laitie

I re-wrote Merry Chrsitmas Exotica to a more accessible context: two women. I’m certain there is more I could do to better this piece. Thoughts?:

Tara sighed against the back of Emily’s neck. Her arms were wrapped around her beloved woman’s form, and she held her a bit closer as she thought about what special night this was.

“What’s on your mind?” Emily called softly.

“You,” Tara murmured. “And tomorrow.”




“Oh? Just ‘oh’?” Tara gave a soft chuckle.

Emily shrugged. “I suppose I never was one for Christmas.”

“But this Christmas is our first one together. No fights, no solemnity, no disappointments.”

Emily just shrugged again. “I don’t like getting my hopes up, Tara. You know that.”

Tara smiled. “Fine then, don’t get your hopes up.”

Emily sighed and turned to face her. “Every single Christmas has been the same as the last. I get my hopes up and somehow, and someone destroys it. From losing my parents, to losing my home, to losing my boyfriend.”

Tara smirked. “Who needs boys?”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Not my point.”

Tara grinned. “Just close your eyes, dear. You’ll have a better attitude tomorrow.”

Emily snorted, but did as she was told, curling into her girlfriend [I need a synonym, here]. She didn’t take too long to fall asleep, making it nice and easy for Tara to prepare a bit of magic for the next morning.

Emily rolled out of bed a little after the sun rose. Why had she slept so late? She tried to shake off her sleepiness as she stumbled out of the bedroom, her eyes resting upon quite the unfamiliar sight in the living room.

Was that . . . a tree? Her eyes grew wide as she looked around at all the holiday decorations that were not in there yesterday. The tree was fully decorated with tinsel, ornaments, and a star at the top. There was even a little train running beneath it along-side presents all wrapped up in bright, cheery wrapping paper with big ol’ bows. It was . . . beautiful.

“Good morning.” Tara’s cheery voice snapped Emily from her trance, and she spun around to see her girlfriend calmly sipping her tea.

“What is all this?” she asked instead of returning the greeting. Tara chuckled.

“Your Christmas,” she said simply.

“You didn’t have to do all this…”

“Nope, I didn’t. I wanted to.” Tara came over to place her mug on the coffee table. “And you haven’t even seen the best part, yet.”

Emily raised an eyebrow, but followed Tara to the tree. Tara took Emily’s hand and sat her down beside her. She pulled the smallest, unwrapped box out from the collection of presents and opened it. Emily could barely breathe. Inside the box was one of the most beautiful rings she had ever seen! A collection of diamonds encircling the band and meeting at the one, slightly-bigger pearl.

“Will you marry me?”

Emily’s eyes welled up, and before she knew it, she had toppled Tara over for a kiss or two. The two lovers gave in to giggles soon enough.

“Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!”

Tara sat up a bit, grabbing the ring to slip it on Emily’s finger.

“Merry Christmas, Emily.”


In Response to the One That Told Me “You Have to Face Your Problems, Not Rely on Meds”

Published April 30, 2012 by Laitie

When I was diagnosed with Depression and prescribed antidepressants, I was shocked and nervous. I went to a friend hoping for support. She gave me “you have to deal with your problems or the symptoms will just come back.” I’m too chicken to ever address this to her face, so I’ll just stick my ranting here and hope to bring some support to all of you looking for it.

“You have to deal with your problems.”

I -have- been dealing with my problems. For four months. They’re not going away, so obviously I’m doing something wrong. I need to try something else.

“I could understand if there’s a chemical imbalance or whatever, but that’s not what you have.”

I don’t know if my chemicals are out of stock or not, but I do know my “temporary” Depression is just as physical as others’ “permanent” Depression. My body and mind are exhausted. I’ve been dealing with my issues for too long. My body wants to give up. The meds are an attempt to convince my body to keep going.

“I can’t even force myself to get out of bed or do homework.”
“You have to.”

No, it’s really almost impossible. Apathy is an extreme emotion that you have no control over. It controls you, really. To not care about the world existing around you. To not have the least interest in doing something to benefit yourself or others. I mean, if you can’t even get out of bed because you just don’t care, it’s really incredible and horrible. Forcing yourself does not happen anymore.

Depression is real. It’s as real as AIDS and Schizophrenia. As real as pimples and the bed I’m sitting on. She has no right to say these things to someone admitting to their diagnosis of it. She never experienced it first-hand. She barely experienced it second-hand. She doesn’t know what it’s like to be told “your sudden apathy sounds like Depression” after doing so well for four months. She doesn’t even know what apathy feels like. How impossible it can be to get out bed—and I’m not talking physical impossibilities. Even I didn’t understand how people could let themselves get so down until I realized how your attitude has nothing to do with it. Not until I experienced it. But I respected it. I never would have told someone admitting something like that to me about my real opinions on it. Why would you do that? Why? It’s not at all thoughtful. Telling someone that their doctors are dead wrong (when you’re not even a doctor)? Telling someone that’s obviously upset that they “need to face the issues on their own?” Could you be that stupid, thinking that person hasn’t been, already?

Depression is a real depression. It’s a real condition and a huge obstacle for us humans. And when it comes about like mine did, I think it’s the sign that you are stronger than you think, because it took so long to take hold of you.

Now that I know what it feels like, I know how to relate to the others like me. I can appreciate your guys’ strength: getting out of bed, getting help, moving on with your life. I know my apathy was mild enough, because I still managed to go to class. I cannot imagine anyone going through it worse, though I know many are.

I’m here for you, guys. I always will be.