Right now, I'm here in my pyjamas, feeling very excited...
Too much is going on already! Ha HA! I haven't felt excitement like this for a while. A long while.
Do you know, that there's a Live Aid Sequel approaching? That, at 2pm, Bob Geldof will notify us all about the details, whether Pink Floyd will make an appearance, and end this media drout? I've been searching like mad through the internet for half and hour and I'm starting to get lucky. So far your best bet is to go to the BBC site, where things are constantly updated - http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/music/4594865.stm - here. There's plans for protests and music in some kind of bitttersweet harmony. I know I'll be there, even if I have to fight tooth and nail. I was told recently I could charm a stranger into giving me a million pounds - it's time to put that charisma to the test!
Also, I watched this film about Beethoven. I quite love all music, but this one - Beethoven's second symphony, Eroica - is by far some of the most brilliant music I've ever heard. At one point, I wrote in my diary: "It's like sadness giving you its cloak." And then I felt as exhalted as I did last night. It was a story of war, of love, rejection and life personified in the fluctuations of the violins and the "fleep" of the horns, if that makes sense to you.
See, I was having a fat day - fatal to any person with an eating disorder, yet my family insisted on eating out. So, halfway through I went to the toilet to slash up my thigh but I had cut too deep and I couldn't clean it up in time. So I ended up with my denim jacket covering my jeans for the rest of the night. When I got home I went on my worst ever purging episode. Frankly disgusting. Then, when, er, I was cleaning up the floor I thought to myself how lost I was getting. I mean, i know I need help, but I was - am? - becoming an alien. I was starting to lose myself in the mirror- first I couldn't bear to look at myself, then I was barely there. I called Samaritans, and I actually got somewhere with them - how self involved I am, and how this lead to me almost losing the person I love the most - she er, she OD'd a couple of weeks ago, and er, I can't seem to get through to her. I can't get her to talk. And you, know, I know the world doesn't revolve around me but it feels at points like I'm being punished. I don't know. I just know I'm in a friendship crisis, hopefully resolved this Friday when we see The League of Gentlemen film (which is just disturbing, and I don't know if I'll be able to survive it!) But the problem, my problem is the feeling that I don't exist. That I don't matter. And that therefore I am disgusting, horrid etc etc.
I think I'm starting to fight back. I've fit this round my lifestyle so eloquently it practically is my lifestyle. I'm not sure how I'm going to fix that, not that I realize I think I want it to be fixed. This is early days, you see. But I get it now.
I've also got a script workshop and an interview on Thursday for an internship with the British Museum, but that doesn't matter at the moment. I have to help my friend. I have to help myself. We all need to help ourselves.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Okay, I'm going to be blunt but you're right, you do need help.
If you ended up slashing up your thigh so much that it bled too much, that's a problem. And what if you would have hit a major artery and bled to death in the bathroom? It could happen.
I know the problem with trying to talk to a stranger about what's wrong when you don't even know yourself because I can't even begin to describe my depression. But I do know that the Effexor seriously helps me. I know this because I can look out of my 26th story window and not want to jump out of it. I don't have to talk to anyone about my problems that I can't explain. I just fill a prescription each month and I'm happy.
You have to do what works for you but is this really working?
I nag because I care.
Dana
Post a Comment