Feeling better

Normal, down, normal down. 

It’s all good. The block is finished, everything has been handed in, I’m completely free for the Easter weekend. Like, I can’t think of anything I actually need to do right now. It’s very liberating. 

Went out with M for lunch yesterday which was nice. It’s a whole FOUR days til I see him again, I’m not sure how we’re going to handle it. 

Anyway, I’m just tidying my room and then I’m going to head home. Sister is back from Spain so I’ll get to see her. Parents are back from (their completely separate holiday to) Spain tomorrow afternoon. 

Ciao lovers. 

Listening to music from the boyfriend’s band for the first time. I’m actually quite nervous, even though they are very good. 

Teeny tiny relapses

I’ve been very absent from my blog lately. Don’t have internet in my outblock. Busy. New relationship. But also I just can’t be fucking arsed. 

I realised too late that I was slipping, and even though I’ve gone back up to 150mg for the past few days, it isn’t working. Was meant to be going out with an ambulance crew today, didn’t go. Was meant to finish my portfolio today, haven’t. I don’t want to write, or draw, or watch TV, just completely flat and hate everything. 

Also I have lost my appetite, and want to sleep all the time (which is probably better than never sleeping). Been creeping round the house all day trying to avoid bumping into my housemate (successfully). 

The moral of the story is that it never gets better. 

It’s really irritating because I was genuinely doing ok on 100mg and my life is objectively going great at the moment so I can’t see any exogenous reason for feeling sad. Which puts me right at the endogenous end of the depression spectrum. This is ok because it’s easy to treat with anti depressants (less need for talking therapies) but it makes me more likely to relapse so maybe I’ll have to stay on 150mg forever. I suppose I’m ok with that. 

Monsters don’t always lurk in the shadows. Sometimes they hide in plain sight.
Belle Aurora, Raw (via quotes-shape-us)
1021girl:

snickerdoodlesandsausages:

enjolrasactual:

in-love-with-my-bed:

the-winchesters-creed:

ayellowstateofmind:

Imagine stabbing someone with this knife. 

It would instantly cauterize the would, so the person wouldn’t bleed, so it’s not very useful.

if you want information it is

and above, in order, we see a gryffindor, a ravenclaw, and a slytherin

why would you stab a PERSON when you can have TOAST?

There’s the hufflepuff

1021girl:

snickerdoodlesandsausages:

enjolrasactual:

in-love-with-my-bed:

the-winchesters-creed:

ayellowstateofmind:

Imagine stabbing someone with this knife. 

It would instantly cauterize the would, so the person wouldn’t bleed, so it’s not very useful.

if you want information it is

and above, in order, we see a gryffindor, a ravenclaw, and a slytherin

why would you stab a PERSON when you can have TOAST?

There’s the hufflepuff

(via wellhalesbells)

Had the weirdest dream

In it the following things happened:

My parents got divorced (amicably) and moved out of our house.

I had an actual manic episode and was being a total bitch to everyone. We were staying in some weird new accommodation due to the divorce and it was really communal. I sprayed water at someone’s computer for no reason, and then had to give them my tv as a replacement screen. Everyone around me was really nice though, helping me out.

Somehow I upset M and he was in a mood and I tried waaaaay too hard to make him like me again. There was also a weird bit where I watched him jump from a first storey window to the ground with surprising grace. According to a friend he was pissed off that I had such a good (but entirely platonic) relationship with my clinical partner. This makes no sense irl because they get on well. Also this is entirely out of character for M but is probably me being subconsciously insecure.

I had two lesbian experiences. One with a girl I can barely tolerate, the other with an “experienced lesbian” who irl is married to a man and has a child.

None of this makes any sense. I was so relieved to wake up from it!

Not having reliable internet has put me out of practice of uploading. I’m at the hospital (with wifi, sweet glorious wifi) waiting for the doc who took over my bsc project to come meet me and give me data and stuff. It’s a drag on a Friday afternoon.

Relationship going well. Stayed at his last night. Only had about half an hour at home today before needing to leave to come to teaching. Want to go home and sit in my pjs watching True Detective.

So relationship good. I’m away again this weekend visiting family so it’s a bit of a pain as we hardly see each other being on different placements in different towns, so probably not til next week.

Not much else happening. I started reading 1Q84 which is exciting as it’s been aaaaages since I read any Murakami and I’m only a couple if chapters in and already loving it. So that’s fun. I actually was going to read Dance Dance Dance but turns out my dodgy copy I got a friend to download is in Turkish or something so I’m going to have to bite the bullet and buy it. Shock horror. (Disclaimer: I do in fact tend to buy books legally, but I wanted to try a Murakami before committing and he downloaded a bunch…)

Boop boop. Going to get on with some work.

annimaarit:

Every Now and Then
“Every now and then I would feel a violent stab of loneliness. The very water I drank, the very air I breathed, would feel like long, sharp needles. The pages of a book in my hands would take on the threatening metallic gleam of razor blades. I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at four o’clock in the morning.”
—Haruki Murakami, The Wind-up Bird Chronicle

annimaarit:

Every Now and Then

“Every now and then I would feel a violent stab of loneliness. The very water I drank, the very air I breathed, would feel like long, sharp needles. The pages of a book in my hands would take on the threatening metallic gleam of razor blades. I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at four o’clock in the morning.”

—Haruki Murakami, The Wind-up Bird Chronicle

(via lordfubu)

Second Author

So the phone call earlier was because the poster had been accepted for an international presentation and that I’m second author of it and the subsequent paper. Which is epic because second authors get points (well, a point) on foundation applications. Yay.

There has apparently been some inter user differences between the two of us on the data analysis, so the result is that I’m going to reanalyse them. Need to take my laptop to the hospital with me when we go to teaching on Friday so my supervisor can install the programme, then I’ll pop back after teaching to get the data and for a refresher course on how to do the analysis. 

Last year still brings up some seriously fucked up thoughts, but this is a really good outcome. The main down side is that I don’t get to go to America to present it with her, but it’s still as exciting as. 

A sigh isn’t just a sigh. We inhale the world and breathe out meaning. While we can. While we can
Salman Rushdie, The Moor’s Last Sigh (via quoted-books)

(via msphoebegrace)

Just got a phone call off the doctor who took over my project. I didn’t answer it, I don’t know why. It still makes me nervous when they call! Feel like I’ve done something wrong or 

Edit while writing the above: she sent me a text saying that it’s about the poster that has been accepted. Said I’m in clinic (feel a bit bad for ignoring the call), going to ring her back in a bit. 

This hen party is epic

I love Glasgow. We are back in the homeland.

I am however really tired. We are going home in like half an hour. I could sleep right now.

Awk

Went out last night to celebrate the end of finals with my friends that sat them. Was dancing away with various friends and M (who is a terrible dancer so it was generally hilarious). I think it’s the most public social we’ve been to together, so we were getting a lot of attention which was weird. Nice weird.

Anyway my ex was there (he is among those that have just finished finals) and he was just so irritatingly present. I kind of loved being able to rub my new relationship in his face a bit (maturity) but he was dancing really near. My friend told him to fuck off eventually which was mildly hilarious.

I have lectures in like an hour so probs need to get dressed and sort my hair out. Literally catching a plane this evening for this hen party so need to try and be organised and sharp. Hah.

:)

edwardspoonhands:

spectacularuniverse:

I’ve seen this photograph very frequently on tumblr and Facebook, always with the simple caption, “Ghost Heart”. What exactly is a ghost heart?
More than 3,200 people are on the waiting list for a heart transplant in the United States. Some won’t survive the wait. Last year, 340 died before a new heart was found.The solution: Take a pig heart, soak it in an ingredient commonly found in shampoo and wash away the cells until you’re left with a protein scaffold that is to a heart what two-by-four framing is to a house.Then inject that ghost heart, as it’s called, with hundreds of millions of blood or bone-marrow stem cells from a person who needs a heart transplant, place it in a bioreactor - a box with artificial lungs and tubes that pump oxygen and blood into it - and wait as the ghost heart begins to mature into a new, beating human heart.Doris Taylor, director of regenerative medicine research at the Texas Heart Institute at St. Luke’s Episcopal Hospital in Houston, has been working on this— first using rat hearts, then pig hearts and human hearts - for years.The process is called decellularization and it is a tissue engineering technique designed to strip out the cells from a donor organ, leaving nothing but connective tissue that used to hold the cells in place. This scaffold of connective tissue - called a “ghost organ” for its pale and almost translucent appearance - can then be reseeded with a patient’s own cells, with the goal of regenerating an organ that can be transplanted into the patient without fear of tissue rejection.This ghost heart is ready to be injected with a transplant recipient’s stem cells so a new heart - one that won’t be rejected - can be grown.(Source)

Whhaaaaat?

edwardspoonhands:

spectacularuniverse:

I’ve seen this photograph very frequently on tumblr and Facebook, always with the simple caption, “Ghost Heart”. What exactly is a ghost heart?

More than 3,200 people are on the waiting list for a heart transplant in the United States. Some won’t survive the wait. Last year, 340 died before a new heart was found.

The solution: Take a pig heart, soak it in an ingredient commonly found in shampoo and wash away the cells until you’re left with a protein scaffold that is to a heart what two-by-four framing is to a house.

Then inject that ghost heart, as it’s called, with hundreds of millions of blood or bone-marrow stem cells from a person who needs a heart transplant, place it in a bioreactor - a box with artificial lungs and tubes that pump oxygen and blood into it - and wait as the ghost heart begins to mature into a new, beating human heart.

Doris Taylor, director of regenerative medicine research at the Texas Heart Institute at St. Luke’s Episcopal Hospital in Houston, has been working on this— first using rat hearts, then pig hearts and human hearts - for years.

The process is called decellularization and it is a tissue engineering technique designed to strip out the cells from a donor organ, leaving nothing but connective tissue that used to hold the cells in place. 

This scaffold of connective tissue - called a “ghost organ” for its pale and almost translucent appearance - can then be reseeded with a patient’s own cells, with the goal of regenerating an organ that can be transplanted into the patient without fear of tissue rejection.

This ghost heart is ready to be injected with a transplant recipient’s stem cells so a new heart - one that won’t be rejected - can be grown.


(Source)

Whhaaaaat?

if you close your eyes
does it almost feel like
nothing changed at all?


Hi. I am a 22 year old 4th year medic in the UK.

Formerly clinically depressed.

Current block: geriatrics

Names and things are all anonymised. Stories may be slightly edited in the name of of secrecy and humour.

Ask box always open.

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