Ok, so I haven't blogged in a while. Life has been difficult. The way I see it, when you're submerged in bad luck be careful because anything could happen. What happened yesterday? Well for one thing I took sedatives for the first time. My sleep problem/insomnia has never been this...persistent. Most nights I'm not sleeping until 3, 4 in the morning. So I bought some herbal Nytol thingy thats pretty hard to overdose on, but overslept instead, argh! The whole not being able to sleep thing is wearing down pretty thin and rendering me useless so it's really hard for me to get any work done. Anyway, the following morning I woke up practically late for my 9am start and Dad sat on my bed, seeing the clean, glinting razor on my bed. I didn't know it was there, the sedatives kept me all groggy. Self sedation is a dreadful experience you fight against it all the way.
"What's this?"
"Mmhugfh?"
He began twirling with the razor. I saw it. Oh, my God...
"So? Well? Talk to me."
He tried to look into my eyes. I looked away from him and told him muggily "I don't want to talk about it." I didn't say much else, turned away from him. I thought to myself "Wow I didn't see this one coming." With difficulty I managed to get him out of my room so I could grab all my other razors and Nytolites and stuffed them into my bag. I felt like a fucking vigilante. Dad won't leave me alone, but today with the stand in psych I turned it towards dieting which is much safer ground. I told Dad I'd talk about it with him later, but I lied. Rich again was there for me. He didn't even know I cut until yesterday (I cut after over a 7 weeks last week and two nights ago), when he dragged me away from creative writing when we had a moment.
"You see, the massive argument between me and Dad was kinda...my fault."
"Oh? What do you mean?"
"I mean he found something in my room."
"Yeah...that. You see Ric -"
"It's ok. Just tell me." He looked wretched but I saw his eyes and I thought 'fucking hell I can trust him' "...sharp things."
"Ok"...
Just telling him what happened, and how trapped I felt - and still feel - helped wonders for my riddance of helplessness. I can't purge because now I know my Dad and my brother can hear me, and I'm forced to have dinner, and my Dad is watching me like a depressed hawk and I'm just bringing down everybody. Rich even offered a place to stay for the night, but it would have been tense as his Dad is a racist...making our friendship just that little bit stranger.
So yes things are a little tense between me and Dad and he thinks I'm desperate, danger to myself etc although I think he's calmed down a bit. I mean this makes everything so much tougher when things didn't need to be. I'm not ready to talk about it with Dad cos he doesn't get it - he calls it "silly" and even said after he found my razor "I might as well cut myself with it" and made cutting motions with it. I was waiting to leave the house so we could have some space with the issue, so things don't get too intense, but this happens. The powers that be leave me stunned once again!
After Ric ranted at Martina for a bit because he hates her as she got into Oxbridge and I didn't, I went to my gay youth group and we talked about New Years resolutions and Christmas and Religion in general. Apparently in Italy some guy is presenting a case to try and prove that Jesus as a magical, supreme being didn't exist in the hope to kill off Catholicism. A bit of a kill-joy if you ask me, but I see his cynicism.
My Resolutions are pretty straightforward this year. I'm trying not to go over the top and just say be brilliant but to:
- Write more often; go to a poetry open-mic night
- Have DJ lessons (starting on the 17th!)
- Do more photography
And that's it. Writing wise, my year was a drought because I was so depressed - reading over my blog in 2005 and I was very sad and preparing for the end, it seems. Right now, I'm just struggling with short term overwhelmness which I have THE To-Do List to help me out. Yes, THE To-Do list. This includes going to my top three universities (Sussex!, Manchester and Sheffield) and going to the cinema once a month because its ten minutes from me, but I no one to see anything with - hmm. Anyway I'm listening to Nelly Furtado right now feeling good. I feel good because I have things to look forward to. For the first time in years, let's face it - six years now - I might, possibly, improbably kick out my depression. I want it gone. And I don't know why, but I really like this feeling. It's kinda like hope.
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