A Bit Of My Life Right Now.

Signs and symbols of musicThis is something I wrote last night….

I sit here listening to soppy half aggressive love songs with lyrics such as “see the flames inside my eyes” crying those eyes out with no control.  I have lost it; I have lost my balance that I just spent the past sixteen months trying to achieve.  Here I sit drinking in bed scared to move, tipping over the edge of sanity.  My silly brain is sending me messages of where the scissors are in my room, the penknife in my bedside draw.  Why won’t this sickness just leave me?  Why am I just not allowed to be better?  What have I done to deserve all of this pain and confusion?  Why just why!

I am now terrified of my travels that I was previously ecstatic for.  It is not fair.  Self-pity is washing through me.  As you can tell.

I wish I could write songs, intense short moments of exposing my pain and being free of it.  I feel like writing my story is a lullaby-luscious song, I just cannot be as free from it as quickly as I could if I wrote a song instead.  Although there is that big issue with the fact that I cannot sing.  Fuck
my life.  Seriously just fuck it right now.

Head Fuck

Those of you who followed my blog before I deleted it and restarted it will know about a guy who I was seeing for a mere few weeks before he jetted off around the world travelling. I was infatuated with the boy, when he left I was devastated. Cry in his jumper on my bed for hours, smelling it like a crazy lady. What a mess!

Well he has returned and  to be honest with you it is a bit of  a head fuck – excuse my French. I don’t think I see him like that any more, he has been gone for six months now and we have both been with other people. I have seen him twice since he has returned and things are just not quiet the same. That joyous click isn’t there. Which is a shame, but also probably a good thing seeing as he is off again in a Month and I am off in four to Australia. Saying that I think we will both end up down under anyway…

In my head I just want to be friends with him, I know it is the right thing to do. But for some reason my brain isn’t connecting that and cutting off the confusion. I DON’T KNOW WHY! It is really, really… really! annoying.

Only a few boys have messed my head up like this and he is one of them for sure. I don’t want to have that with him any more, but I think the memory of how good it was before he left is hard to shift. We both feel the same, it is different now. But I don’t understand if that is the case why it is floating around in my head so much and confusing me. I am usually very logical about these things.

I hate how much he confuses me, how much he is confused, how much worse it makes my sickness, I hate how my brain won’t just detach from the confusion. I don’t understand why this is causing me such a head fuck :/ excuse my French.

I feel like punching something, wailing hysterically, or doing something reckless with how much confusion this has created over something that in my head should be simple:

I know we should be friends.
I know things are nothing like they are before.
I know we are both going away again.
I know neither of us feel how we did before.

SO WHY WON’T MY BRAIN ACCEPT THIS. HATING THE HEAD FUCKING RIGHT NOW BIG TIME. 

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men, couldn’t put Humpty together again

Humpty dumpty falling of the wall

Almost three years on from my attack and still he has this hold over me.

I thought that I had dealt with it, I thought that I had convinced myself that he no longer thinks of me, feels for me, or could even acknowledge me. If he felt nothing for me, why would he pay me any attention to hurt me again – this was my logic.

I guess I was wrong. 

He has moved on publicly, with a new girl friend who seems nice, kind, and cute. I guess I always knew it was a front, but then it felt like I was bigging up my importance in his life by thinking that.  Therefore I removed the idea from my brain in fear of self obsession.

But, I guess I was right.

He found a route to me, he lashed out, and all of my defences came tumbling down.  All the therapy in the world, all the pills and potions, remedies and theories, could not make me fully defended again. I felt once again like that manipulated teenager, confidence eroded and the need to please, to be accepted, taking control.

It scares me to think of what he made me. 

Visualize yourself not falling off the wall

Just like the expectation of the next wave to crash behind your legs, I know my attacker will return. Time and time again. I have given up believing the people who say he will probably just ignore you next time he sees you, he is being childish, try not to think about it.  Those people do not know our story.  They do not know the lashings of hateful words were lashings on my body.  They do not know the cutting comments where him cutting his way in to me.  They do not know that he will NEVER stop.

I will always be that girl to him. The one that reminds him of everything, his first serious girl friend, his first ‘love’.We share friends, we share neighbourhoods, we share the local super market. There is no escape from him here.

This is why I am going away.
I need to get away from here, from him, from the memories. 

UK………………………………to………………………………AUS

Rant over. No more.
I fear more than death itself that I will sink back in to the murky miserable depths of my sickness. I can not go back there. I can not do it. The past year and a half have been the worst in my life and I WILL NOT live through them again.

2 Hours Of Work After 10,957 Hours On Sick Leave (15 Months)

I checked the small cracked mirror in my car to tidy my hair around my face before I left the comfort of my car.  The car I would soon sell on to pay for my travelling.  I stroked the steering wheel fondly before departing. I crossed the pavement to the front of the shop. The charity shop. The shop that I would learn to work again in.  The place that would become my gym… building me back up to fight the normal world again. _52632275_jex_1040640_de27-1

Plan:

Work a 2 hour shift a week and not get tired

Work two 2 hour shifts a week and not get tired 

Work a 4 hour shift a week and not get tired 

Work two 4 hour shifts a week and not get tired

Best outcome: look for a part-time job within a  month
Worst outcome: I get sicker again, I go back in to my sick-bed state of hibernation.

I have to PACE MYSELF! The words of my therapist echoed in my ear.

I could do this.

I could totally do this.

I was nervous I can’t lie about that.  But I was also excited. I knew that I could do it. And I did.  I managed those two hours just about okay, so what if I had to come home and nap for a couple of hours. I have also been fighting a kidney infection, been on my period, and had 4 days straight of looking after a puppy – so no wonder I am tired.

I need this to work. I want to be well enough to go travelling – the sooner I get away from the surroundings that only remind me of my aliments the better. My travel plans are my escape route from my mentally ill riddled brain. What a nice thing to be able to escape. Or at least be able to breathe with. Where I am it is too compressing to be this sick.

I feel like I understand my sickness now more than I ever have done. I am no longer lost (well as lost). Those urges that scared the hell out of me have been fading away, the pop up, just like an annoying advert that should have stopped airing months ago! Now when they decided to say howdy-do, I can manage it better. The darker days are lessening. Feel like after that line I should say something Lord of the Rings ish such as; the darker days are lessening, soon it will be time for the days of the light to take full reign again. Don’t worry – I do not think for one second that all my woes will evaporate when I jet off to the other side of the world in November.

But for now, I will carry on at the charity shop.  Carrying on my newly paved path to recovery and rebuild. Here’s hoping, touch wood, cross my chest, send a pray etc etc. You get my drift :)

I Am Back

Hello Everyone! Me and the Duck are back:

Front Cover Shhh Duck

First off I AM SO SO SO SORRY! I know I have disappeared now for a month and half on here.  I shut down – closed everything – even ended up deleting my posts… which I now majorly regret.

So I haven’t died. Woop go me, still surviving with the assortment of mental shenanigans that I have accumulated.  I have missed blogging, but my blog before was becoming too depressing, hint the revamp and restart. 

So to update you:
THE BOOK HAS BEEN EDITED! Yay :)
The edits are currently under way…
plan to have the book done and publish ready by November!!!!!!! Dun dun dun
Oh yeah… and I am going travelling. I am going to leave the depression hole I have lived in for the past however long and go down under. So stay tuned for the gossips on those travels.
Sickness wise – guess what – I am getting better!

Sorry I have been away, but I am back!