Back from photoshoot. It went very well. Details to follow. Bed now. Probably.
Today is my big photoshoot in Doncaster. I leave in about ten minutes to catch the 7am bus. I don't expect to be back until 10pm. It's a hell of a long day, especially since I've already been awake more than ten hours but it will be work it.
Glow sticks are not a valid reason for taking everything out of storage and putting it in the centre of your bedroom while on a break from your fourth assignment of the week. Apparently.
I ordered new shoes. Two pairs. One are low three and a half inch platforms for daily wear. The others are high heels. Seven and a half inches. I can't wait to get them :)
The calendars should be here tomorrow :s
It’s been over a week since I last did an update of any length. I guess there are a few reasons for this. The main one being that I’ve been doing work for uni and not much else. It’s literally been taking up almost all of my time. Thankfully I have now handed in one more assignment. I haven’t done any work today and I feel guilty because of that but I think a day’s break might actually be wise. I’ll get back to working in the morning.
Today has been a lazy day. Last night was more productive. I went to the Co-Op and came back with two boxes of cereal, a bottle of milk and a carton of fruit juice. An average breakfast, anyone? While out, I noticed that I was the only person walking through Southwell alone. Everyone else was in pairs or groups. There were insults and laughter and people meeting each other and catching up. Girls in short skirts skipped arm in arm between the pubs. Guys carried their takeaways and carry-outs round to their mates’ for evenings in. I felt so completely alone.
I’m really aware of my isolation at the moment. At the same time, I’m afraid to admit how much I miss certain people. It feels weak to admit how much they mean to me. Thankfully, in four weeks time, I’m going to be home for a few days. Yes, I am marking off the dates on the calendar. Speaking of dates, I’ve officially been in a relationship for over three weeks now and everything is still okay. It seems that my ‘three week curse’ has finally been broken and I’m glad. I think it’s worth the risk.
When I got back from Southwell, I divided the cereal up into individual portions, something which I don’t normally do. I do sort of wonder if my obsessive tendencies are starting to express themselves a little too strongly again. I’m sure it will be fine though. I’ve lost weight again but I can afford to lose it since I’d put some on in the past few months. There’s something perversely satisfying about watching the needle of the scale dip toward a lower number each day. I know you aren’t supposed to weigh yourself daily but I’ve estimated that in the past week and a half I’ve been losing about a pound each day.
My thoughts are getting a little disjointed now due to my meds. I don’t think there’s much else to say. I set up my new digibox so I now have more than three channels. It’s great having more programmes to watch and I can see Dave again which is great. I think I’ll stop now. There isn’t much worth saying about this week anyway.
One final thing, Hackney has just been mentioned on Time Team ;) All together now... One night in Hackney!
I don't think I've ever been as happy to see Dave :)
I don't know what to do. I've just been offered a shoot during the next three days but it's two hours away on the train which makes it three hours away from campus and I don't know much about the photographer which really isn't ideal since there isn't anyone I can ask to go with me. Okay, let's do this logically.
Points For Going:
~ I've been offered it
~ It's another photographer's work to add to my portfolio
~ I don't have any lectures until Thursday
~ I want to
Points Against Going:
~ I don't really know much about the photographer
~ In relation to the above point, there's no one I can ask to go with me
~ It's a minimum of six hours on public transport (return trip) which I'll also be doing for the Doncaster shoot in a fortnight
~ The train fares come to over £30
~ I should be focusing on catching up on uni work
~ It's very short notice
~ I feel like death warmed up
Definately looking like it would be better turning it down. Argh, I don't know what to do.
Any thoughts?
I've been having a bit of a mad catch-up night. So far I have emailed nine people.
I think I may have entered the scatty phase of medication-taking. The part where the anti-psychotics start to take effect but haven't kicked in fully.
COMMENTS
It's Aaron's birthday today. I miss having him around. There won't be any dancing on the tabletops here this year.
I’m forcing myself to write this since I’ve achieved very little in the past twenty-four hours.
Tuesday was fairly uneventful. The flat was too noisy for my liking. There were lots of people over. According to Philippa, it was Jennie’s birthday. Thankfully they all buggered off to Oceana. James is still acting like I don’t exist so I’m returning the favour. I talked to Philippa for about ten minutes last night but I’m pretty much avoiding socialising. Everyone seems so fake here. I noticed it last term but the phoniness seems even more pronounced now.
Yesterday evening I went to the Co-Op. It’s a good thing I made a list of what I needed to get. Otherwise, I suspect I would have actually come back with a bottle of Tipp-Ex and some toilet rolls and nothing else. I need to go out later and get milk. I’ve drunk all of mine again.
I finished watching Tru Calling last night which means I watched two seasons in less than two days. That was unplanned. Then I took my meds and went to bed. I slept late and found it difficult to get up. Eventually I hauled myself out of bed and went to check my post. Magazines had arrived but the packaging was a mess. I think it may have been opened. Thankfully everything was in the parcel. The state of it annoyed me but my annoyance was countered by my amusement.
You remember the part of Harry Potter when he gets the letter from the Weasleys and it’s completely covered in stamps? Well, I think I entered that world for a while. There are 26 stamps on the envelope. I really must photograph it so everyone can see it. Apparently the sender hasn’t heard of taking something to the Post Office to be franked.
After collecting my post I had a quick look through the magazines and then curled up in bed again where I have pretty much stayed. I’ve dozed the rest of the day and still feel drained. My muscles feel really weak and it’s an effort to type this. I’m not sure if I’m coming down with something, a definite possibility since I woke up yesterday with a really sore throat, or if it’s my new meds. Either way, I don’t like it.
Speaking of meds, they’re going to kick in soon so I guess I’d better keep typing and ignore the fact that it feels like I’m trying to make my body do something strenuous. Actually, they may already be working on me. It’s getting harder to think. I thought something like this would be good but I feel like they steal my control.
Last night I was thinking about my own death again. I’ve thought of a new way and, if I wanted it to, it could look like an accident...
I think I’m going to have to go to bed. Thinking is getting too hard. Damn meds.
I was thinking about Allen earlier. I don’t know why. Sometimes it just happens. It would have been his birthday in a couple of weeks. No doubt I would have gotten him something random as usual. And he would have loved it. That was just Allen.
I miss him. I miss his geekiness about Star Wars and Lord Of The Rings. I miss watching horror films and comedies with him. I miss the trips to the adventure park and sitting in playing games. I miss guessing the lists in the newspaper each week. I miss him. I just hope he’s somewhere better now.
Why are lab coats (normally) white? To show spills more easily? To appear more professional? To differentiate the wearers from the laymen arounf them? Just a thought...
Four discs and fifteen episodes later... I should really go to bed.
My eyelid won't stop twitching. It's quite maddening.
I feel angry and hurt and worthless right now. I was talking to someone I thought was a friend but it turns out that he wasn’t. He was using me all along. He seemed nice enough, as a friend, if a little pushy. It turns out he was just trying to manipulate me, to get me to have sex with him. He only ever saw me as someone to fuck. All the compliments he gave me were just to try and get me where he wanted me and when I refused he turned against me. I was always honest with him. I told him I wasn’t interested in him in that way. He hurt me but I think it’ll be easier to copy and paste part of the conversation than to summarise it all.
Him: what modelling are you doing
Me: shoot in doncaster at the end of the month
Him: who for?
Me: a photographer there who contacted me
Him: surprising
Him: he paying you?
Me: why's it surprising?
Him: well you're cute but not quite professional model
Me: people dont start out as pros
Him: i meant not quite the looks or figure for it
There was a bit more of this and the general gist seemed to be that I was cute enough to fuck but nothing more. He finished with the words “you're just not someone I would be friends with”. I won’t repeat what I finished with. Now I feel utterly worthless.
COMMENTS
I know of a house full of people who seem to think the world of you. You are priceless! Shall I go pound the piss out of this bastard?
Thats if The Village [our house] don't get there first furcifer ;)
Don't let him make you feel worthless...if anything, you are worth more because you didn't let him talk you into doing something that you didn't want to do. He said those crappy comments to you since he couldn't get your panties off.
I got up today and discovered that my lectures had been cancelled. Isn’t that just a wonderful start to a new term? And thanks to the arrangement of my timetable, I have no lectures until 2.30pm on Thursday. Does anyone else think that me flying back here yesterday morning was something of a waste of time?
So now what? I need to go and get some things from the shop. Just bread and milk mainly since I want to enforce a stricter eating regime this year to try and bring my cholesterol level down. The weather outside is horrid and I’m considering just going to the campus shop for them. However, I really should go to Southwell today to make an appointment with the doctor and inquire about gym membership. After all, exercise is supposed to help fight depression. So the decision must be made. Campus shop today and Southwell tomorrow or Southwell today in the rain?
The decision isn’t really being helped by the continued pain in my right ankle. On Thursday I missed a step at Damien’s house and landed on it pretty heavily. I managed to walk and dance despite the pain but that may have been due to the support of my boots. It seemed a little better the next morning, an improvement I promptly erased by trying to run. On Saturday it again seemed a bit better and I managed to run on it with only minor pain. Although, there was a lot of adrenaline running around my body at that point so I may have just failed to notice. Since then it’s continued to hurt and I know my tendency to sit with my legs crossed hasn’t helped. I’ve been making an effort not to but it’s easier said than done.
Maybe I’ll just go to Southwell in the morning. The weather and pain really aren’t making it an appealing idea today. I’m tempted to stay in and watch Tru Calling and perhaps eat some toast. I seem to have a real obsession with toast at the moment. Yes, that requires me going to the campus shop for bread but that’s doable. Mmm, toast.
I’m not really in the mood to do a proper update but I don’t want to get back into the habit of thinking Oh, I’ll do it later... I’ll do it tomorrow... One more day won’t make a difference... so here we go with a potentially quite crap update of the past few days.
Today, I guess, was relatively uneventful. I went to Aph’s appointment with her and Damien and then, as usual, we returned to internet land.
This evening I went to Mark and Helen’s with Damien, CaptainLucy and Shane and learnt to play two new games. I balked at the idea but wasn’t allowed to sit them out. I’m no good at group games and people generally don’t have the patience to teach me to play properly. I felt really stupid at the start of Mag-Blast. There seemed to be so many rules and things to remember. They were good to me though and it was quite fun after all. Okay, I lost but it didn’t have me in tears like group experiences normally do. People normally pick at me far too much and stress me out.
I’m a little freaked out right now because someone keeps pushing me to meet him and the more he pushes, the more it makes me want to back away. Especially since I know he’s interested in me physically. I guess I’ve had too many bad experiences now but there have been some good ones. I wouldn’t be where I am now if I hadn’t met up with an online friend.
Tomorrow night (later) I’m going to see Cirque De Glace. I’ve wanted to see Cirque De Soleil for years but the tickets for it are £55 each so I’m going to the cheaper option. It apparently involves the Russian Ice Stars, which could prove interesting since it’s being held in the Waterfront rather than the Odyssey where the ice rink is. Maybe they’re just going to turn the heating off and wait for ice to form. It’s cold enough. Actually, I assume they’re going to use roller blades instead. I’m looking forward to it anyway.
I’m feeling a little tired now so I might curl up with my current reading material and focus on it for a while.
“Suicide is not chosen; it happens when pain exceeds resources for coping with pain.”
“Conformity is suicide. Imitation is Suicide. Love is Suicide. Suicide is self-expression.
“Some days it feels impossible to breathe just one more breath. Some days it feels too possible to contemplate my death.”
“Suicide is a way of telling God, 'You can't fire me because I QUIT!'”
- Bill Maher
“I myself spent nine years in an insane asylum and I never had the obsession of suicide, but I know that each conversation with a psychiatrist, every morning at the time of his visit, made me want to hang myself, realizing that I would not be able to cut his throat.”
- Antonin Artaud
“If I commit suicide, it will not be to destroy myself but to put myself back together again.”
- Antonin Artaud
“It's a bargain you make with yourself, okay? An escape hatch, maybe today I'll try drinking see if that makes me feel better. Then drugs. More drugs. Cutting yourself. You're scared, so you make a deal to make yourself feel safer. And if it doesn't stop next week, next month then you're going to do something to make it stop. And the next month comes and the thought of waking up another day and feeling as badly as you did the day before is worse than the unknown. So you decide to jump. Seems simple, clean, elegant.”
- The Bedford Diaries [television show]
“I wanted to die, then. I wanted to destroy the body I was trapped in, become what she was, no matter what it took. No matter how much mutilation or pain. But he looked away, at me. He pulled my face down and pressed my lips against his like he was almost trying to suffocate us both.”
- The Rose and the Beast: Fairyales Retold, Francesca Lia Block
“Sometimes it takes more courage to live than to shoot yourself.”
- Albert Camus
“Suicide sometimes proceeds from cowardice, but not always; for cowardice sometimes prevents it; since as many live because they are afraid to die, as die because they are afraid to live.”
- The Lacon, Charles Caleb Colton
“Suicide should not be taken as an indication of failure (in such a case) but of the (proper) determination to be done with a worn-out tool, or to make way for new ones, or (perhaps) to get a new one oneself.”
- Aleister Crowley
“The intention is clear
I stare, with this left hand, unable
To write the words
Every time I bleed, there lies the reason to live...
and I discover the words are vivid and bright
...
Deep within the hell of my heart ... I can't go back
A self-tortured loser, unable to see tomorrow
Suicide is the proof of life
- The Final, Dir en grey
“It didn't matter in the end how old they had been, or that they were girls, but only that we had loved them, and that they hadn't heard us calling, still do not hear us, up here in the treehouse, with our thinning hair and soft bellies, calling them out of those rooms where they went to be alone for all time, alone in suicide, which is deeper than death, and where we will never find the pieces to put them back together.”
- The Virgin Suicides, Jeffrey Eugenides
“We couldn't imagine the emptiness of a creature who put a razor to her wrists and opened her veins, the emptiness and the calm.”
- The Virgin Suicides, Jeffrey Eugenides
“i tried to kill the pain
but only brought more
i lay dying
and i'm pouring crimson regret and betrayal
i'm dying praying bleeding and screaming
am i too lost to be saved
am i too lost?
- Tourniquet, Evanescence
“I want to kuh-kill myself. And -- and I can't. It's not that I'm too scared to kill myself. I -- I'm scared of lots of things. I'm scared of noises in the night-time, scared of telephones and closed doors, scared of people... scared of everything. Not of death. I want to die. It's just that I don't know how.”
- The Sandman - Dream Country, Neil Gaiman
“Suicide is the ultimate fuck you.”
- Ginger Snaps [movie]
“Tell me that you don't take that blade and drag it across your skin, and pray for the courage to press down.”
- Girl, Interrupted [movie]
“These people aren't anxious or depressed. They have sinus infections and athlete's foot. They don't spend the minutes between waking and showering reciting reasons not to kill themselves.”
- Exposure, Kathryn Harrison
“All fled--all done, so lift me on the pyre;
The feast is over, and the lamps expire.”
- Robert E. Howard [suicide note]
“The calm,
Cool face of the river
Asked me for a kiss.”
- Suicide's Note, Langston Hughes
“It was easy enough to kill yourself in a fit of despair. It was easy enough to play the martyr. It was harder to do nothing. To endure your life. To wait.”
- Fear Of Flying, Erica Jong
“If I would kill myself tonight, who would remember me tomorrow?”
- Josette
“It's so hard to live when you know you don't want to.”
- Josette
“A successful suicide demands good organization and a cool head, both of which are usually incompatible with the suicidal state of mind.”
- Girl, Interrupted, Susanna Kaysen
“Smile to yourself and fade, shooting star with a razorblade.”
- Not Inside My Head, Liveonrelease
“The bleakness of the landscape is unimaginable. It is as friendless and alien as a Dali painting. Ordinary concerns, such as work or friends, have no place here. Futility muffles thought; time elongates cruelly. Who is to blame for this situation? Those with depression think it must be them. Pointlessness and self-loathing govern them. So the natural final step is suicide. People with depression don't kill themselves to frighten an errant boyfriend. They kill themselves because it is the obvious and right thing to do at that point. It is the only positive step they can think of. ”
- Kay McKall
“Do we live in a world of liars and hypocrites? Or do they just keep us alive for their own well-being, if they really loved you, they'd let you go to a place where you'd be in peace.”
- Ida Mehrnoush
“If they tell you that she died of sleeping pills you must know that she died of a wasting grief, of a slow bleeding at the soul.”
- Clifford Odets
“Here in the bathroom with me are razor blades. Here is iodine to drink. Here are sleeping pills to swallow. You have a choice. Live or die.”
- Survivor, Chuck Palahniuk
“Suicide is just a moment... For just a moment, it doesn't matter that you've got people who love you and the sun is shining and there's a movie coming out this weekend that you've been dying to see. It hits you all of a sudden that nothing is ever going to be okay, ever, and you kind of dare yourself. You pick up a knife and press it gently to your skin, you look out a nineteenth-story window and you think, I could just do it. I could just do it.”
- The Dogs of Babel, Carolyn Parkhurst
“It was my last act of love.”
- Sylvia Plath, after her first major suicide attempt
“It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else, deeper, more secret, and a whole lot harder to get at.”
- The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath
“And if you have no past or future, which, after all, is all that the present is made of, why then you may as well dispose of the empty shell of present and commit suicide.”
- Unabridged Journals, Sylvia Plath
“World, if the razor slips. And I kill myself, then who would piss you off everyday?”
- Tony Rodgers
“War going on inside my head. I can't get to sleep. I'd rather be dead. Don't try to tell me, I can't hear your words. I'm not long for this world.”
- Henry Rollins
“Thief --
how did you crawl into,
crawl down alone
into the death I wanted so badly and for so long.”
- Sylvia's Death, Anne Sexton
“But suicides have a special language.
Like carpenters they want to know which tools.
They never ask why build”
- Wanting To Die, Anne Sexton
“There's music playing
But we dance to the beat
Of our own black hearts
And draw diagrams
Of suicide on each other's wrists
Then trace them with razorblades.”
- Jet Black New Years, Thursday
“Dearest, I feel certain I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don't think two people could have been happier till this terrible disease came. I can't fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can't even write this properly. I can't read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that - everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can't go on spoiling your life any longer.
I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been.
V.”
- suicide note, Virginia Woolf
Where does sanity end and insanity begin? Am I really mad? And, if I am, how crazy am I? I hate the terms they attach to me. Mental health problems. Mentally ill. It makes me feel like there’s something seriously wrong with me. But I guess there is. I just don’t know how bad it is.
The depression is counted as a mental illness but just because you have it doesn’t mean you’re crazy. It’s the rest of what goes on with me that makes me wonder about myself. I don’t think I’m Jesus or a fire engine or able to fly so I’m not as bad as some but I’m obviously not normal.
I see things other people don’t. At the moment it’s mostly people with animal characteristics. Ears and tails mainly. Not everyone has them and there’s no logic to who I see with them. Many of them are strangers. I also see people and animals that aren’t there. Last night, there was a crow in the room sitting on an invisible post. The other main things I see at the moment are a glow around people and other living things and trails that people leave behind them. The glow around humans is a slightly different colour to that around non-humans while the trails look like they’re made from some sort of insubstantial white powder-mist. It’s mainly on things they touch and slowly fades. God, I sound crazy. I think I’ll stop talking about what I see now.
I hear voices. Mostly inside my head. I can actually see them as people and see what they’re doing. Do other people have voices that decide to do some wallpapering or have a sword fight? Sometimes inanimate objects talk to me. Not that often and it’s something I only admitted to recently. The other main source of voices is one that I only admitted to last night. When I’m in crowds I feel voices and emotions pressing in from all sides. I feel myself slipping away, my identity ebbing as I’m carried along on the sea of humanity. I think it’s part of the reason I have such a problem with other people. I feel trapped, never more so than when surrounded.
After I told Damien about the voices in the crowds, he told me that I really need to tell someone about it. He thinks that I could be schizophrenic but my mind rebels against that idea. The thing is I’ve never spoken to anyone who suffers from it at any length. You hear all the stories about paranoid schizophrenics who think you’re out to get them if you even look at them and the stories about the afflicted talking to toasters but the media isn’t always a reliable source and it often chooses to play on the extremes. I guess I’d better talk to the psychiatrist about this next time I see him.
So all that makes me sound crazy but then there’s the matter of... abilities. I fuck up technology. I always have. The more unstable I am, the worse the technology around me behaves. Damien and Aph have seen it and don’t believe it’s coincidence. I still don’t know what to think. Then there’s the matter of my dreams or visions or whatever they are. Aida is a prime example. We all thought she was just something a nightmare created for me but apparently not. And the necklace can’t be forgotten. It wasn’t pleasant and turned out to be something quite powerful. So what’s the difference between all these things? How much is mental illness and how much is something more... preternatural?
It’s weird. I sound so crazy and yet I don’t feel like I have the right to be mentally ill...
Something was said earlier, not in reference to me, but something about it scared me.
If she can't be healed, she'll have to be put down.
I think it scared me because, as much as I often want to die, I want it to be by my hand not because someone decides I can't be cured.
I've just had a thought. Right at this moment in time, even though a couple of conversations have just thoroughly depressed me, I don't want to die.
Does everyone have conversations with themselves inside their own heads? Is it normal? I know that having conversations with voices in your head isn't. So is having a running monolgue or dialogue with yourself normal and socially acceptable?
I’ve just come back up from making Damien a bacon butty. I think I’m getting quite adept at this grilling bacon business considering I stopped eating it close to a decade ago. It’s strange to think that I haven’t eaten bacon in ten years and it’s been fourteen since beef left my diet. I’m not a vegetarian, just a picky eater. Well, apparently I’m actually classed as a food phobic because of all my issues with textures and taste but I’m better than I used to be. At dinner last Tuesday I managed to eat some banana slices in banoffee. They weren’t particularly nice but the toffee was gorgeous.
For all my bitching and moaning about cooking stuff for Damien, part of me takes pleasure in doing things for someone else. I guess it appeals to the part of me that requires praise and is desperate to please people. More than that, doing things for others can help push back the depression and keep me functional. The only problem is that when the depression does hit, it seems to hit harder, as though to punish me.
They say that illnesses are our bodies’ way of telling us things. Maybe to slow down or eat less fatty foods or to get more sleep each night. There are many things I can learn from my illnesses but some lessons are easier than others and even when I know the theory, it can be hard to put it into practice. There were so many classes in school that I did well in but for which I still dreaded the practical sessions. Probably, at least in part, because there were many of those classes over the years where I was left without a partner and had to latch onto whatever group would have me. I found it demeaning. And now I find myself going through the same thing at university...
The clicking of the keys as I type this is strangely soothing. Sometimes it really irritates me. Other times I don’t even notice. Tonight, it seems comforting. Familiar.
I’ve still to list my resolutions for the year ahead but I’ve decided that one of them has to be to return to updating this journal on a regular basis. I think my lengthy reports and rants help me find the will to keep going. So here we are in the early hours of the sixth day of the year and I’m doing a new update. Well, in between randomly musing about things.
Cornucopia After Party Part Two AKA Cornucopia After After Party
I thought about heading back downstairs to join the remaining guests but I was cold and drained so I curled up under the covers, not to sleep as much as to simply rest. I dozed for about an hour before Damien came to bed and we talked our usual bollocks for a while before eventually falling asleep around 11am.
Pre-Boosh
Months ago we booked tickets to see the Mighty Boosh Live at the Odyssey. When he came to bed, Damien told me he hoped I had my alarm set for a sensible time. I told him it was set for 5pm and we both laughed. I’m not sure which is worse, the fact I was completely serious about that or the fact that we both knew I was. Either way, we weren’t exactly up when morning became afternoon. We weren’t even awake.
Around half three we had regained enough coherency for the following decision to be made. I would walk to the shop and get him Lucozade. He would remain in bed for now. I headed out and found the roads quiet and very few other people around. The air was crisp and the sun wasn’t too high in the sky. I caught myself thinking that it was a wonderful Sunday morning to be outside and then looked at my watch and remembered that it wasn’t morning. In fact it was close to 4pm.
Boosh
Shane dropped us off not long after the doors opened at 6.30pm and we got in straight away, avoiding the queues that would inevitably appear closer to the show’s 8pm. We passed the time easily and then the show began. What can I say? It was fantastic. I don’t think I’ve laughed so much in one night in a long time. The first part lasted about an hour and a half and was followed by a half hour interval followed by another hour of hilarity. The humour was intensified by wardrobe malfunctions, people forgetting their lines and random improvisations. Words can’t cover how good it was. The atmosphere was amazing and I actually had tears in the corner of my eyes from laughing. All I can say is, if you can, go and see it. It’s worth it.
Post-Boosh
After the show ended we met up with Steven and Jan who we had also hung out with during the interval. I ended up having the same problem as I’d had during the interval. The crowds kept flowing between me and Damien and I’d lose sight of him and feel the first stages of panic setting in. Thankfully he was never too far away and knows me well enough not to hassle me for getting a little upset by hundreds of people. I’m pleased that I didn’t have a full blown panic attacked and even coped when a girl, clearly very drunk, grabbed me. She wanted to tell me my hair was beautiful and I was beautiful and then to hug me. I’m sure she had a wonderful hangover when she woke up.
We walked across the Weir into the City Centre proper to get transport home. I picked my bags up from Damien’s and then headed home, having the misfortune of a morning appointment for blood tests. The crack fox had appeared in the show so it amused me immensely when there was a fox in the garden right after I got home. It seemed so appropriate. It didn’t speak to me though.
Internet
I put my laptop on when I got home last night and couldn’t get online. I don’t know if my brother has done something but I couldn’t connect to the wireless at all. It really pissed me off. It’s quite bad enough that he doesn’t even check if I’m using the net before switching off the modem when he’s going out. Gah.
Drawing Blood
I hauled myself out of bed and made it to my appointment on time. The nurse asked if I’d had blood taken before and it was all I could do not to laugh. Only every three weeks or so for over a year now. Sometimes more often than that. Even though my veins are distinct beneath my flesh, the nurse found one and promptly lost it again once she stuck the needle in. Thanks to that I’ve got some bruising and am probably going to end up looking like a junkie again soon. They’ve moved to my right arm because they have trouble finding a vein to use in my left now. That does worry me a little. Am I like an inverted junkie? Are my veins hardening or collapsing or whatever because of all the needles they’ve stuck in me?
As always, the stared at my blood as it flowed into the vials. It fascinates me but today even more so than usual. It was such a rich red, so pure and unadulterated. Yet, I had the same thoughts I have every time they take blood. What if I didn’t put pressure on it after the needle is pulled out? What would happen? Could I make myself bleed out? That can’t be a normal process of thoughts.
As soon as the blood was taken I was able to treat myself to a drink of Fanta and some chocolate. Those things have never tasted so good. I can easily last days without eating but as soon as anyone imposes a fasting regime upon me, I want to eat. The worst part was knowing that any other night, a show would have been followed by a trip to the Chinese. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be.
Intermission
After seeing the nurse, I headed home for a couple of hours and finished reading yet another book. Then I caught the bus, realised I was going to be far too early for my dental appointment and heading on into town. I tried to go to Casbah to get Damien new arm-warmers only to discover that it no longer exists. Instead, I ended up buying them in Fresh Garbage, along with a new short pair of fingerless gloves for myself and a PVC and tartan top. It’s by Phaze, it’s my size, I liked it and it was in the sale, reduced from £34.99 to £14.99 which I’d say was a fairly good deal.
Having a little more time to kill, I headed to Waterstones and discovered that they had books three and four of the Weather Wardens series. Book three has been impossible to get anywhere for ages so yes, I did buy them. And given what was to come, I think I deserved a treat. Although I do feel guilty about buying myself new things.
Skull-Fucked
One word can sum up my experience at the dental surgery today and that is Ouch. There was the expected pain of the anaesthetic injections. I hate having them in my gums. Bring back the goddamned gas. What wasn’t expected was the pain during the poking and prodding and drilling. I don’t know if the anaesthetic didn’t work properly or if she got too close to a nerve but it fucking hurt and still does now. Plus, thirteen hours and a packet of polos later, I can still taste some of it that she got on my tongue. And it tastes vile. In fact, it tastes sort of medical. Whoever thought up torture by dental work was a genius and a madman. I could endure Chinese water torture and flogging but this... I think I’d give up whatever secrets they wanted soon enough.
Post-Dental Hell
Quick summary. Went home, bringing the total number of buses I caught in the space of a few hours to six. Saw my father and ate the dinner he cooked me. Curled up with Fisho to read a book on anorexia. Had my usual mental debate about my own body. Got a lift over to Damien’s. Sat in on the role-playing group. Went online and here I still am.
There are some things I’ve been thinking about today that I need to write down but I think I’ll put them in a separate entry. I think it’s been two hours since I began this one and I’m feeling a little tired. Actually, more than a little and I really should go and take my meds.
Farewell for now, readers.
New year, same lapses. I promised you an update so I'll try to give you one. Although it may be shorter than my usual lengthy written affairs.
December was a month of ups and downs. January has just begun.
Medical
I met my new psychiatrist, had another ECG done, had my antidepressant dosage doubled, got put on antipsychotics, got taken off my beta-blockers, had two fillings done... and that’s just a quick overview of the medical stuff.
Weekend Visit
December 12th – over-nighted at the airport. 13th – caught the first flight to Belfast, spent the day with Damien, dyed his hair, went to Cornucopia, danced for the final two hours straight, collapsed. 14th – flew back to EMA. 16th – flew back to Belfast for the holidays.
Hair Matters
I used a different brand of bleach as my order didn’t arrive. It ruined my hair. Half of it fell out. I put midnight blue dye on it. I think it looks well but I prefer my usual red. Opinions are divided. Damien now has the same shade of blue on his hair.
Riding
Haven’t seen Tula. She’s out in a field at the moment. I saw her from a distance earlier and was glad to see she had her rug on. I rode Smurf in the lesson on my first week back, where I was the best rider but a sack of potatoes would have ridden better than the others, and again the following week in the show-jumping competition. I have another fourth place rosette to add to my collection. It felt good to compete again. My third week back saw me back on Teddy. He went fairly well.
Christmas
Stayed with Damien on Christmas Eve and was relived that he and Aph seemed to like their presents. Returned to my parents’ for Christmas dinner. It was a mostly quiet day.
Reading
I’ve been reading a lot again. As in at least a book a day. Like I used to. I asked for some memoirs and autobiographies for Christmas. A few were by self-harmers. I hadn’t realised how difficult it would be for me to read them. Plus, even though they write about things and I know exactly how it feels, it doesn’t make me feel any less alone. Damien says I should write a book because I’m a survivor. But I’m not a survivor yet. I’m surviving. There’s a difference.
Compulsions
The urge to cut has been unbelievably strong recently. I just want to carve deep gouges into my flesh and watch the blood flow from them. I was examining a piece of broken glass the other day, thinking about how perfect it was... That can’t be normal. The other compulsion is to get completed wasted on alcohol so I can reach oblivion. But I’m not going to do it. There’s good reason for me not drinking. I’ve seen the path I could go down if I choose that escape.
New Year’s Eve
2008 ended. 2009 began. It was a quiet night.
New Year’s Day
Went home to the family for dinner. Got picked at a lot by them. Didn’t have a good time and was finally pushed over the edge by one little thing. Half two in the morning saw me sitting on my bed with my butchering blade in one hand and my mobile in the other. I wanted so much just to cut out the pain but I made a conscious, if not exactly easy, decision. I phoned Damien. I asked for help. Maybe I am getting better.
Cornucopia
Tonight was Corni at the SU. It was generally a good night. Although, the music during the last half hour could have been better. It was all cheese. I danced for an hour and a half straight until my knee threatened to buckle. Last month I danced throughout the night and then for the final two hours straight. And had the blisters to prove it. However, it did seem to break in my new boots. Well, one pair of them anyway.
I caught up with a few people I hadn’t seen in a while and got introduced to others. I had a bit of a moment when I spotted a guy from my past, someone who came on to me seven years ago. I look different now though so I pretended I’d never seen him before and tried to get on with the night. I think I managed okay.
They had no Sprite tonight so I was on Diet Coke. Me + caffine = anyone else on lots of alcohol/drugs. I was a little hyper on the dance floor but I think I danced it out of myself.
I danced a bit with CaptainLucy and Gina and managed a whole song as the only person on the dance floor. Not bad when you consider that less than two years ago I literally had to be dragged up and escaped at the earliest possible opportunity. The dancing was marred slightly by a guy who got too close to me, asked me to dance and pretty much had me trapped in a corner when he did so. I refused. Me + strangers + physical contact... I don’t think so. I ended up feeling guilty though because he’d been dancing next to me for ages and after I refused he went to sit down and pretty much stayed there looking down. I know because he was in my line of sight from the dance floor. He did seem to look at me a lot though which was a little disturbing. Normally I would have vanished to the toilets or outside or hidden among friends but I forced myself to stay on the dance floor. I have to win some battles... I guess he was kind of cute but I've got a relationship now and, given my track record, I want to focus on it and make it work.
Okay, so how obvious is it that I’m not used to men showing any interest in me in real life? I’ve gotten used to the ones online but most of them are just the resident internet crazies. I had quite a few compliments tonight and guys showing interest in me. What was my automatic response? Oh they must be drunk. They’re only looking because I’m showing cleavage. They wouldn’t give me a second glance on the street if they were sober.
I have to stop tormenting myself like this.
After Party
The Cornucopia After Party continues downstairs as I type this but I’ve done my socialising for tonight. I can only do it for so long and then I have to retreat. It drains me. I hate myself for being this way but I don’t know how to stop it. I have social anxiety but I’m not sure if that’s all there is to it. I was never a social person. I was always the outsider in school, the loner who would sit and read a book at lunchtime rather than doing what the others kids were doing. I’m not good with people. I’m good with animals, but not people.
It isn’t particularly mad downstairs tonight but I just don’t feel up to being around a lot of people. I kind of feel like I need to be alone after being surrounded by lots of people. Maybe it helps my personal space reset or something like that. Megatron came up to sit by the heater while I was surfing the net and we chatted for a bit. He seems nice enough, calm enough not to unbalance me in my post-crowds stage. Louise came for a visit too and we had a bit of a bitch about ‘fragile’ women being manipulative and getting their own way. They’ve heading back downstairs now and it sounds like there are still quite a few people down there even though it is after 6am.
I could write more but I’m feeling cold and drained so I think I might just curl up under the duvet and rest. I’m sure I’ve forgotten dozens of things but that’s nothing new. Maybe I’ll list my New Year’s Resolutions later. I’ve actually given them some serious thought this time.
Night, dear readers.
Welcome to the new year. Are you coming to the funeral of 2008?
To start 2009, my internet decided to crash.
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