Can’t think of a title 

Someone got me good the other day, real good. In my therapy group one member brought up a subject (referring specifically to me) that’s been brought up loads of times in the past. One that I’ve spoken about myself. Maybe it was because of who said it, though I can’t figure out why. Maybe it was the immediate circumstances, or the topic that led to it, or my state of mind. I don’t know. Whatever it was doesn’t matter right now. What matters is how the fuck do I deal with it. 

It was a challenge, in every sense of the word. I can’t hear myself someplace at the back of my mind shouting ‘it’s what I need’ I got quite upset, for a moment and steered away to avoid crying, it’s bonkers that that’s still a big problem. But that’s another story, or is it. Although I felt and was very calm, I did my best to stay present and keep listening while people continued to critique me. My voice wavered just before I almost cried. My chest was tight with emotions and my vision narrowed. I’m sure that it was written all over my face and I could feel the sympathy eminating from others, couldn’t meet their eyes, only the eyes of the facilitator, and the person who raised the original point. They did not look back at me. 

As I write I’m making more connections between them and my mother, which would go a long way to describing why it hit me so hard. Right now I want to hit them, hard. 

I’m terrified of having been institutionalised, by the backwards thinking self serving government, by my actually severely ill but despirate for attention so will make herself ill mother, by schools, society, the whole fucking lot. But mostly by my parents, both of them are equally responsible, just as I am not responsible for what happened to me as a child. Nor for what happened to my siblings either. 

I have worked so fucking hard to not be them. And every time I think maybe I’ve made it, I realise that no I haven’t. I’ve just hit another wall. I am not responsible for then, but I am responsible for now. 

I am responsible for shaking off that bullshit they saddled me with, that’s kept me down and behind my whole damn life. I have to stop being like them, stop being scared of not being ill, stop being scare to take chances. I am not sick. But I am damaged, and that I need to repair. I can’t tell my sister that the only reason I don’t end my life is because I don’t want to hurt her. She’ll probably, hopefully, never read this but if you do, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t  couldn’t protect us all, I’m sorry you got hurt. And I’m sorry our brother got hurt. I failed. I failed to protect you, and now you don’t need me. I have no purpose. And I really need to find my purpose or I can’t go on. I’m trying to come to terms with the idea that it make take me time to realise what the fuck it is. Trying to get comfortable with the idea of just being okay to soldier on and be patient while I figure that out. And with trying to figure out if I actually want to keep living. Coz right now, it doesn’t appeal. 

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Representation & My Search For the 13th Doctor of Bass Players

Pondering Fandoms

gui5

I keep talking about music, in life and in this blog, because it’s what’s on my mind. I podcast about music, listen to as much music as I can (for the podcast and because I feel like I have 20 years’ worth to catch up on) and I love the fact that I’m practicing my bass at least every second day to stay sane not just because I “should”. So, with that in mind I wasn’t expecting thoughts about representation relating to Doctor Who and the new, upcoming female Doctor to necessarily enter into the equation because of music. I thought I had made up my mind and come to a fair point of neutrality even if I couldn’t quite understand why the gender of the Doctor was that important to these people. Wasn’t the most important concern whether she was the best actress for the job? (Spoiler: yes…

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Flotation required 

I have a feeling I’ve not experienced in years. An overpowering sensation of emptiness that literally hurts. It’s horrible, not just because of what it is but also what it represents. It’s the past, the former me that moved on from this hell and learned to embrace my own company. Somebody who has spent years and tonnes of spoons letting go of that, who’s been thankful and even pleased at my progress here. 

But now it’s suddenly back. This chest crushing, heart stabbing, headache producing longing for something that’s missing. Something that never was, never will be….something that is – other – In the past this would happen when I felt lonely, lost, abandoned or generally sad. It was a longing for things to either change drastically, or to return to how they were just minutes before. I’d often find myself standing at a windows watching a guest walk away as they begin their journey home, and I would be left behind, alone and hating my own company. Feeling like my chest was going to cave in. Or likewise if I was having a bad week and I needed comfort, that pain would come. 

Now, I know I’m horribly stuck with my life. Despirately wanting an epiphany, needed an answer to the big question. In that respect I am longing for the other, wanting things to change. So maybe it makes sense that this pain has returned after so long away. I’m not so bother by they why, it more the connections and memories it brings with it. That awful feeling of being dragged backwards into old emotions and drowning in them, wondering why I can’t swim up for air. 

I’m okay.

Kinda, for now. I think. Thank you to those that got in touch. It helped me to get help. I’m processing things better cognitively, emotionally I’m not so sure about. Maybe I am, I certainly feel awful. Whether that’s because I’m actually dealing with stuff or its the same old bullshit wallowing I can’t tell. 

I spent a few days staying with friends, got some sleep, did loads of gardening and started to settle down. So I came home, to see if I could cope. Did not sleep the first night, took a pill to knock me out the next. Now its just the same tired old routine of shitty sleep and shittier dreams. I want to get out of here, really don’t feel like I can keep asking people if I can stay at theirs (despite assurances to the contrary) so am feeling trapped again. 

On the plus side there was a new boiler fitted today, at last. I’d have a bath of I could be bothered. I’d really like one. Maybe I’ll manage to do some dishes at least. 

Though right now all I can do is feel horribly rejected. I told (by text) a family member about my meltdown and asked if there was a family history of breast cancer as I had my appointment coming up. And later, with prompting and support from a friend, also asked the same family if they be able to come with me to the doctor for moral support. No response to either message. I hadn’t wanted to asked them to accompany me precisely because I didn’t want the possible rejection. But as I want to get past my issues with such things I sent the request. Had they at least said something, anything, I wouldn’t feel so fucked off and upset. And now I’m going to have to deal with the situation and that’s making me even more stressed. I wish I hadn’t asked. As it was I did the doctors appointment alone, looking after myself like I always have. Same old shit. 

Doctor thinks the lump is some sort of fibroma type thing, or something like that. Been referred for imaging to make sure. Probably won’t ask anyone to come with me as I cannot cope with another lot of non answers. I’m half not concerned and half fucking worried. My cousin just died from cancer (not breast) and I think someone in the family did die from it. Though I don’t know for sure which is why I asked. We’re it not for those things I wouldn’t be worried. I also upped the dose on my antidepressants, don’t know if it will help but it might.

We’re it also not for the fact that the family rallied around my cousin when they were sick but can’t even answer a fucking text for me… So. Many. Issues. Past traumas, current stresses and repeated let downs resulting in me looking after myself. I need and want to find people that I CAN turn to for help. Ain’t nothing I can do right now though, that would involve pushing myself way beyond my current capacity. 

fake it till you make it…?

Is this really a viable option?

sometimes, I guess. Though I’m not sure its good for all situations. Its essentially what I’ve been doing for years, if not my whole life. /Though certainly with more conscious awareness in the last 10-15 years. But is this attitude not harmful? Even potentially dangerous? I know its gotten me into a few ‘scrapes’ in the past and could well do so again if things continue, as is. I get it, theres definitely benefits and a possible ego/confidence boost to putting oneself into the place one wants to be (or at least where you think you want to be) and just jumping in at the deep end. I’ve done things that I definitely wanted to do, but my motivations were misunderstood. Had I gone into the same situation, lets say my former career as a vehicle/plant mechanic, with a diferent motivation. Once that was clearer to me and more ‘honest’ then maybe things would have worked out very differently. Maybe I wouldnt have had a meltdown, maybe now I’d be running my own garage now, with my pink overalls and misogyny free atmosphere. Maybe not. But my underlying emotional state, driving me to do something I’d wanted to do for 15years or more, might have (almost certainly had) a huge effect on the way things played out. I did not have the skills nessescary, the self confidence or belief in my entitlement to be there, the ability to self care and manage stresses in a safe and healthy way. To say it all went horribly wrong, thats accurate.

With the right skillset though it might have worked out the way I imagined it would when I started on that path. So faking it did not work, and nearly killed me in the process. It conpletely wrecked what little confidence I had, and led to a path of recovery that is now in its 9th year. This in itself is no bad thing, but…. its been 8+ years of physical and emotional challenges beyond anything I ever envisoined for myself. And I had a pretty shitty upbringing!

Why am I rambling about this stuff? I kinda dont know. I have been increaslingly unsettled the last few weeks, struggling to care for myself, creeping further into self harm territory. All the time, trying to tell the world that somnething is very wrong. But my autonatic habit of not showing pain (weakness) not being able to communicate (not knowing how to access internal stuff) and being so pigheadedly stubborn about being seen as self sufficient (not asking for help) really has not been any fucking help in processing whatever IT is. Today I’ve been pushed over the edge.

The last few days Ive been fatigued, lightheaded & nauseus, my knees are week and I’m physically unstable. i can barely sleep, have been over eating and consuming foods that I shouldnt. been filling my time up so much that I dont have any real relaxation periods. spending money like its going out of fashion and withdrawing whilst keeping a facade of okayness and funcionality. basically most of the things that are absolute warning signs that shit is not okay. And today I slipped over into having serious RAM issues in my brain, a growing feeling of panic and strong paranoia. Which has forced me back into my house, because even though its not a safe space for me anymore, its still safer than outside. Especially when I start disassociating. This is breaking point, this is where things could get dangerous if I cant mend it very soon. I’m scared, and maybe I’m scared because I dont know what the fuck is happenening, or going to happen. I’m definitely scared that my career choice will implode, as it has done before, twice. I definitely dont like the unpredictable and fluctuating nature of whats to come. Maybe I’m an idiot and am just going to fuck it all up, again. Maybe I am not cut out to be a fucking human being. Maybe i’m just overthinking it all and creating anxiety about stuff that doesnt need to be. Maybe I”m not in control.

Before my hyatus writing stuff down used to help me process it, work out what the issue was and hopfully give me a starting point on where I could start with the healing. So I thought I’d give it a try again today. I hope it helps, but so far I’m not feeling any better. I may well take myself down to the crisis service as I dont feel safe around myself. If I can manage to leave the house that is. I genuionly dont knwo whats going on right now and its fucking terrifying.

wassup?

In answer, I dont know. Not specifics anyway.  Have had an insatiable hunger since getting back home a few days ago, triggered by exhaustion and lack of sleep. It now seems to be more than that, tied to emotional stuff that I havent identified. I’m fed up with not being able to sleep much, fed up with feeling crap and spoonless, fed up with eating all the fucking time. I’M NOT ACTUALLY HUNGRY. Getting stuck in a mini whirlpool of being sleep deprived, restless, in pain, depressed, angry and emotionally frayed which stops me from sleeping and makes me compulsively eat ALL the food and sweets. And getting wound up by all of this, disgusted and angry at myself for letting it happen and not fighting the compulsions and beating myself for not sleeping. Which leads me back into getting stressed, not being able to sleep and force feeding myself.

Its an old entrenched abusive coping method. Its also a classic screaming neon sign that theres some deep serious/nasty/terrifying emotional shit lurking just below my conscience. Shit that I dont want to deal with, that I would rather just fucked off and went away never to bother me again. Its making me extremely short tempered and sensitive to my surroundings. The clutter in my prison of a home is making me VERY stressed right now. At this moment I could really do with someone to cuddle up with and just …be… To cry or laugh or watch tv, or whatever. But that’s something I cannot think about so it gets pushed away as dwelling and making myself feel worse isnt going to help. So its just me and my head demons here

The boiler saga

Sounds like a really crap steampunk series!

Its actually just a really crap real life broken boiler… and a cheapskate landlord who wont pay for a new one.

Thankfully its summer so I don’t need heating. Cold water baths are not my thing though!!

sigh