My Crazy is Acting Up Again!!

Ok, well, my crazy was acting up before. But that's because I was forgetting to take my meds. And I got to see how crazy I am from some strange neutral perspective my prozac puts me in.

"My Crazy" includes:

Not being able to concentrate in tutorials because I was scared of my fingernails and had a strong urge to snap them off

Spending hours applying for jobs, getting a panic attack just before I am to leave for any interviews I ever get, making me wonder if I'm ever gonna get a regular job at last!

Procrasinating reading ANYTHING scholarly

Freaking out after eating a burger and chips and making myself throw up in the library toilets (it's a big four floor type of library)

Throwing up twice in one evening in indian restaurant (after the starter and the main course :S)

Staying in the "arghness" position (when I'm feeling really really anxious - on all fours in a ball - kinda like those stress positions I saw in those SAS torture programmes) for 30 minutes.

Yeah....

I'm fucking nuts! Hahaha.
Anyways, working on my music collection has definitely helped. I've made a "What's This?" section for general listening, so for morning noon and night (v. difficult) and mostly upbeat with lots of 60s 70s music cos I'm in love with "Good Vibrations" and The Who in general. And I got a studying playlist, and a Falling Apart playlist for downbeat tracks and upbeat (but not too smiley or I resent them) and somehow when listening to it the music slowly emphasizes with me but then slowly, very slowly, fixes me again and then I'm listening to something upbeat and inspirational and I'm OK again.

I have a feeling if you crack open my soul (I think I believe in dualism because I think we have souls, but studying philosophy seems wants me to squash that so badly.) That you'll find a song by Pearl Jam or Regina Spektor. I'm in love with Pearl Jam's Elderly Woman Behind a Counter or something and its so beautiful, and reminds of me what I'm afraid of if I ever stand still, and what may happen if I never stop running.

On a happier note, I have managed to make friends with nice eccentric people who like baking and love dancing as much as I do and watch French films and talk about sex and their lives don't revolve around alcohol. And I'm sorting out my money issues. And that unspeakable secret that I just couldn't say? I've written it all down, as a scribe to my own issues. Also, in two weeks I'm going to have an outpatient assessment with The Priory. Yep, thats the UK equivalent of the Betty Ford clinic or something isn't it? Where lots of fucked up celebrities go for their fuck ups and so on - Kate Moss, Ronnie Wood and Peter Doherty too I believe. I don't care about any of that, but it's all grand looking and sometimes I'm scared that I go in there and never come out. Or worse, they don't think anything is wrong with me and I'm just alone all over again. We'll see. Sorry I took so long to update. Manchester has been keeping me very busy to make any little blogs.

Yeah, manchester. Four hours' drive from London, not so far from Wales and the Peak District. Rainiest place in Britain and the home of so many of my favourite bands (Joy Division, Oasis) and where I hope to grow up and find people.

Mother Mother

When you sent me off into the world,

Were you scared that I might get burned?

Would I try a little...tobacco?

Would I still be lifting up my skirt?

(Tracey Bonham)

I was going to write about what my mother did to me, but I couldn't. It's too damn truthful. I can't talk to Nik (not for a while. Is that bit over?) Can't afford to talk to Ria. Dad is not calling. I'm spending too much time trying to not get angsty/fall apart. I can't now, because I'm four hours from home and London and if I alienate myself here and don't find someone to cling to SOON I might not last the year. Where did all the potential best friends go? I have to get up and buy washing powder and organise my life, send out letters. At the moment, because I can't get a job and I have no money, I am whoring my fuck-ups in psychological experiments for money. For example, next Friday I'm going to talk to a practicing psych for an hour for 10 pounds. Now I'm applying for another experiment for anxiety sufferers for another £25. How long till I feel like a complete freak show? How long until my anxiety and my OCD gets the better of me? (Believe me it's trying). Am I doing the wrong thing by whoring out the fuck-ups? I need some advice here...

I'm Feeling Quite Heavenly

I love whacking flies and killing spiders because they simply do not belong in my world. Never. Ever. I'm reading my 6th Murakami novel, quite untalked about too: South of The Border, West of the Sun - at the moment, a very young feeling novel all about growing pains and the devastation of beauty and all that.

University is lovely. Honestly. It's confusing and I've been hit with wave after wave of bureaucracy and thoughtlessness and stressfulness and no moneys (have got £20 pounds to last me into October.) There's a Pirate themed pub crawl I would love to go to, and my first ever university lecture, on Mind and Language, starts tomorrow morning. I haven't really broke down yet. The tiredness has come from low level anxiety, my meds only give me a little nausea, I still haven't cut or purged and I'm eating healthily, like meats and noodles and grilled aubergines. Actually for the perfect sandwich, you must have grilled aubergine with cinnamon and brown sugar, grilled bacon and grilled cheese on toast as a sandwich. It is frankly divine. I would also add some chilli pepper but that depends on what you want...

Anyway, I was only posting about this quiz result because it makes me feel a bit more special in this new scary city where dinner is "tea" and everyone says "t'internet":

Hurricane You scored 60% mad, 55% wild, and 5% wannabe!

You are clever. And you are crazy. You have awesome ideas, a powerful wit, and no inhibitions to stop you. You will not be soon forgotten. You're a HURRICANE! You have tremendous power, and you do exactly what you want, whenever you want. Some people worship you, others hate you. But one thing is for certain: wherever you go, nothing will ever be the same again.

The Fundamental Weirdness Testhttp://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=6946191923838044535

The LDN Waltz

(Here I am! Yep, bright orange hair. I'm half oirish and barbadian *gigglesnort*)




I'm leaving tomorrow.

It's been the maddest few weeks in a while. I got slaughtered by the brick wall of bureaucracy - by that I mean money worries (having none), bank issues, forms and new computer systems that never make anything as convenient as they promise to be. I had a massive anxiety attack and couldn't leave the house or do anything at all for four days. I just slept all day or spent my energy getting to the sofa. And when it came to every single deadline of all the letters and appointments to make were about to squish me into student pate, I found myself too terrified to leave the house. Didn't cut, but I drank a lot. Didn't make myself throw up, but I'm still eating at night sometimes, and I can't sleep and I'm hating my body enormously.

A lot of it is because of my worsening anxiety and OCD issues (I have to switch the light switch on/off at least three times before I enter into any darkened enclosed space. It's to warn spiders of my arrival :) and what's also making my anxiety worse are the Fluoxetine pills I've been taking (Prozac to everyone else). Whoever called it "Happy Pills" deserves a slap! I've been getting sweats, I have sudden bouts of tiredness in the middle of the day which has so far left me helpless for up to SIX HOURS. If I skip a couple of days I get the worst nausea and I feel like I'm being punished. I can't have an orgasm. It's embarrassing and personal, but that's the case. I've tried everything that doesn't require money! It's just not happening and now that I'm leaving I wonder if this'll fuck any relationships before they start, considering I'm still a virgin at 18 years (all of my friends aren't...and they call me the "sassy" one??? Ok, maybe that's just me - but it's true!)

All I can say about whether these things will dissipate, work itself out by itself or by more/less pills is up to the next six months. I'm working through it. I really am. I am so fucking determined to get myself "happy" - be able to stay happy and functional. Cos let's be honest. Maybe it's just me, but there is no such thing as a happy Superwoman. No way. No way. Even the day before I tried to take my life last November the thing I was most concerned about was not my health, but the three essays I had due and making sure my family never realised how fragile my sanity was. That's Superwoman; all she does is hide and succeed. When are you allowed - not forced, allowed by yourself - to pig out on the sofa, watch some Oprah, watch some crappy Soap opera and gorge on stuffed crust pizza? On prozac I'll probably be on them for a year and eventually get ahold of myself, but I can't function as well... I've had a metre-long string of blonde moments, included losing something that was actually in my hand, holding up supermarket queues like those type of women/old people everyone hates who don't know how to shop, and so on. Without it I had quite a few moments of brilliance, lots of confusion which led to lots of thinking. By thinking things through is how I've kept myself afloat the last 6 years of my depression, gotten countless A's and high scores, earned the teacher's praise, knew this self and who I was at that time. And I was able to function, and dictate, and do things very, very well.

I am no longer Superwoman, and I may no longer be the gifted writer I once was. But I'm laughing easier, I can understand why I'm crying, I know what I'm suffering from and how to battle it, at long long long last.

And like, you know what? I may be severely lacking the sanity to deal with bank changes and the brain melting arena of student finance (as unfair it is to single parents grr) and forms, I am doing really good.

So I leave tomorrow, for the city of Manchester, to study Philosophy and Politics. Any Mancunians wanting to say hi? I'm going to miss London so much. I've been through the first crisis of book packing - at first it was the giant suitcase completely filled with novels. Now it's one plastic box. Then its my clothes. It's different cos I'll be living there more than I live in London, which feels nuts because London is my lifeblood. I love this city. I love the polluted air, and the restrained tuts and outspoken have a go heroes, the crazy ass mini cabs and taxis, listening to five languages on the same bus journey, the Somalis, the Polish (?) the rudeness, the tube, the London buses that are all the same price to use even if at extortionate prices. I'm going to miss charismatic homeless men carrying the clean train of a newlywed bride on Westminster Bridge (I'm serious it really happened!).

I'll miss the glittering, romantic, filthy Thames, I'll miss Westminster Bridge in the morning when you can listen to Pearl Jam in peace. I'll miss Twickehham Rugby Stadium, Richmond College, Ealing, Feltham, Hanworth Park and the gorgeous Tudor graveyard. I'll miss BBC London News, Xfm and LBC Radio. I'll miss being in the centre of what I believe is the universe. I'll miss Southern accents and the arrogance, god the arrogance. I'll miss the London Eye and the Gherkin and Congestion Charge and Mayor Ken Livingstone and the random bookshops and little clothes shops. I'll miss Foyles a lot. I'll miss the museums, the art galleries the parks, the familiarity, the neighbours, my bedroom, my family, my wonderful friends who made mecry tonight at the feeling of missing them and their lives, because you know it's just not the same again.

All of you, all these things that I dearly love and will dearly miss, take a bow and hear this praise whilst the London air is the only chemical powering through my veins and before the capital of the north, Manchester barges through. Will it have my Lush? Will it have a Borders with a 300-year old staircase and a cafe at the top with squashy chairs and happy career women? Will there be anything to rival Soho? Will I find my quiet haven outside this place I live in? How long will I stay sane up there, and how long until I fall in love again? How long till I feel looked after, if ever? How long until I succeed? How long until I screw up? And how long until I won't miss my bed, my giant Sycamore trees, or Mr Bob, toughest goldfish in town?

I don't care too much because at this moment I feel as if I'm doing the right thing. I can worry about my Dad being left without his little girl, and my big bro without his little sister, but I've learnt that I should NEVER be afraid of doing what I know is good, and what is right for me. How long it take for you to learn that lesson? Must dash, must pack!

Something may have happened to me. Something bad.

Be afraid of the lame;

They'll inherit your legs

Be afraid of the old;

They'll inherit your soul

Be afraid of the cold;

They'll inherit your blood

Apres moi, le deluge

(After me comes the flood)

- Regina Spektor, Apres Moi

This is How I Feel, or at least Felt at Three in the Morning Last Night

I have something to tell you
It's all in here, believe me,
But for the first time ever,
Unprecedented in my sordid history
I have to end this poem
Disappointingly,
With frailty I hope you'll view positively
The loaded neut - cum words - No Comment.

It's not for lack of want for telling
It's not information withheld at gunpoint
It's not cowardice, or money, or contentment ha!
It's something, my dears, my foes, all together more fearful -
Almost sinister.

Believe me the jaw is working, the tongue flicks out
Compressed air - expels it angrily, yes it does
And the night holds my words in quicksand
Sunken by the weight of impending sleep,
Suckled away
For another day "in dazed"
Wanting to sleep, where the truth can hurt me
But it can force me to remember,
The helplessness, the lies, the madness
High browed, finely moulded
I can't stand it.
I can't stand any of it.

And I am trapped in all the words...

And all, all I can bear to say is...

A -
Compressed wary cry for help
A -
bout a growing person who
can-
cannot let go
AND
Scream, reveal a note!

Let's Appear Like I Never Went Away

It's been forever. I'm submerged under crap British TV and incessant busyness. I have a job now, well actually two and a bit, but I haven't started any of them so I'm still super-broke, but very busy. After next week I'll be abundant in time and peace of mind. I'm also dead excited about university, but I find myself wanting to get everything in, doing everything having multiple picnics and parties (STILL haven't been out clubbing yet! I'm feeling very uncool), meeting and kissing new people and makng memories with my old people because I want to have something I can pinpoint and say "Yes, this is my turning point, this is where everything was gorgeous and the future stretched out incomprehensibly like the deep blue Pacific, in this hot British summer where I turned 18 and started the last phase of My Plans".

By Plans I mean the Plans I made when I was a kid and imagined that my life stretched out like a giant blue lake that didn't have any meaning after I finished uni. Everyone told me I was going to Uni. Even then as a kid I could sniff out the imperceptible "Or else!" I would do something amazing, probably write the Great Black-British Novel even my Dad could read and then support my family for the rest of my life, all the while finding my Prince, someone who would love me and let me look after them without questioning me or my integrity in this amazing Central London flat near some place with an Alfresco diner or those cute places I saw in American TV.

As a child I still wanted to get away. My Dad recalls a day when I was about six years old, and Dad came to pick me up from school and found that I wasn't there. Panicking he began driving around, until he saw me at the bus stop looking at bus times. I think I was trying to run away to this super gorgeous flat where I could read books all day long and doodle on the walls. I remember as a slimmish (ha!) seven year old, spending the afternoon placing my dear possessions into a cardboard box, addressing the box to "Hollywood, USA", dressing up into my swimming costume and climbing into the box, hoping that my brother would take me to the post office who would realise their mistake and send me to a rich lady. It never happened. I still dream of those days, when I was so innocent that I didn't realise I was innocent.

And now My Plans are about to be realised. After university I won't have a clue. I really won't. I'll come out of my graduation ceremony (my brother had his on Tuesday! I would be even more exceptionally happy for him, except it looks like he's going to stick to shop work for the rest of his life...) looking library dazed and terrified. I don't care that everyone still thinks I'm going to amazing things, stop! I don't know what these amazing things are going to be! What are supposedly amazing things! All I can do is write and argue for myself. And love people. This maddening, innate ability to love.

Right now I'm missing my friend bloggers - DM, Lioness (darling, my darling who's having a shitty time), Unfurled who I know reads it from time to time - how are you???, Gorgeous LJ girl who reads White Horses - I want to hear from you! I want to hear from you all, because it's really lonely on the internet and thats why I'm hardly here...

Now, I'm off to amend my profile, which I'm sure will release more introspection. And I'll tell you more about the picnics, I shall :)

Summer is Here

Hi...I know I haven't posted, but I have nothing much to say. Days pass by and I'm getting by quite well. I'm starting to learn Icelandic again. I'm starting a new journalism project. I'm on prozac and have no appetite which has made me ecstatic, but now I'm eating more than usual, which is just cruel really. Do depressed people ever lose weight? I don't know if the happy pills are working or if its me, but I'm feeling good, I really am, honestly. I hope to write a funnier post soon and saying hello to everyone. Anyways, this a post from myspace (I said I'd never join...I was coerced, honestly! :) detailing the 1st weekend in July, super heatwave (30-32 degrees C) and super festival. Enjoy!

Heyo,

Had the MOST fantastic time! On friday I was battling headaches and quickly making plans. And on Saturday morning I was packing my rucksack as quick as ever (I'm notoriously bad: I'm sure it's a Jamaican thing lol - this time, I only packed two books) and I'm jumping onto the 90 bus to get to Ria's place to meet with her and her boyf, Darren to make our way to Hyde Park and and HPC. I was surprised it didn't sell as much as it should or was talked about as much as it should be.

Anyhoo, we made it in scorching heat and we were sweating already lol. Anyhoo, Darren made it off to the big screen for the ill-fated England match against Portugal. Me and Ria danced about to our pleasure. First person on was poor Chris Difford (from Squeeze) who was the pre-pre warm up for the match, but he was fun and pleasant, as well as Breaks-Co op who I can't remember (sorry!). Then on came Starsailor who were fantastic - the lead singers voice is just as brilliant live as it is on record and played my favourites - Alcoholic, Good Souls...it was very blissful, esp. being with Ria cos she's mad(der) as me.

Then, Texas came on with the orgasmic Sharleen Spiteri who kicked off with "I Don't Want a Lover" - I know some people think Texas are crap but they are fantastic live and fill you with zing. She then played one of my favourite songs of all time "Halo" and then "Getaway" - it was this point people were starting to turn away as the England match was going on and no one had scored yet, or Rooney had been sent off, we weren't sure - just kept texts from Sarah (Ri's sister) going "NOOOOOO" hahaha.

Poor Sharleen - at one point she just went "Oh, am I distracting ya?" And since things were getting tense (penalties had started) she played a piano song. She has a fantastic voice, but I don't even remember the name of the song cos everyone was so tense - classic. And then we lost, wooooo hooo. Peace...everyone else was down though.

Then the main attraction came - thankfully we were surrounded by really nice people including this 13 year old boy who was subjected to Darren's "meat on a stick" jokes to Ria. Such a lovely perv, haha. Anyhoo, Roger Waters came on who was, oh, wonderful. I even enjoyed his new songs (Bush-bashing)! I had never heard the whole of The Dark Side of the Moon so I really enjoyed it - so psychadelic, and so many people were off their heads on whatever, having giant spliffs etc - funny to watch. My highlight was definitely "Great Gig in the Sky", the singer was amazing to be able to that LIVE and she was crying and it was so beautiful...oh! Ria loved it too.
Second day: I think it was started brillaintly by the Rosehill Drive people who were rockin'. Problem was it a total scorcher - must have been plus 32 degrees and we were sweaty and gross. We stayed at Darrens and his mum who is v.v.v.v.v. cool and hilarious, played 20 questions. We also went around in his red Mayfair Mini, one of the coolest cars ever. It was so small and had no suspension and made you appreciate modern cars. But it made you feel young. It was also hilarious to have my boobs moving about in the car (can't believe I just said that!) singing along to that christmas song Fairytale of New (You maggot, you cheap lousy, thank god its christmas I hope its our last) on a hot summers day in a mini :)

Ocean Colour Scene were fun and rousing (not as fun as watching die-hard fans have their own stationary orgasms). Then the Zutons came on who are always fabulous live, my song was Valerie but they didn't play Pressure Point! At this point people started throwing bottles, god knows what cos we were quite near the stage. By the time Razorlight finished I was covered in everything - wine lager...they were amazing. I saw them in Live 8 and was glad to have more of them.They played new and old songs, included "Don't go back to Dalston!" which made me think of Richard, and Stumble and Fall which had me mosh/dancing, and their new stuff too was very gorgeous. I have to see them again and make sure they play Leave me Alone and Up All Night....
The Who came on eventually after the cameramen were pelted with bottles after giving the crowd the finger (more bottles of god knows), but they came and rocked immediately, playing my favourite - The Seeker pretty quickly, then it was Behind Blue Eyes, some new stuff, Teenage Wasteland!, My Generation, Won't Get Fooled Again...they rocked out for what seemed like hours, I thought I'd never stop dancing.

The crowd was packed, and our "territory" (blanket) was destroyed, but me and Ria did end up shimmying with this old guy....good times, good times. We went to a pub after it ended with some of Darren's parents friends, who got pretty heated when the bar staff tried to kick us out- closing time. Ie: "I'm not being rude of nuffink, but do yourself a favour and fuck off" sort of talk and telling them call the police - for a second I thought we would have had to leg it! But we got out in the end.

Darren was a darling and drove me home. I think we're goodie friends now. It was about 1am and I was exhausted and felt very rock and roll - my (new colour) hair and clothes were covered in wine, beer/lager, water, spit, spliff and cigarette smoke, fart, hay and god knows what else - but I felt fantastic, and will definitely be going to more fests in future for sure! It's late, so I'd best be off to bed. Am exhausted...