There never was and never will be,
Don't you know that you can't see me,
Suddenly you're everybody's fool
Evanescence-Everybody's Fool (morphed by me)
Its been a brilliant day. Too brilliant. The moment I stepped off the train to the bus to the chippie at the end of a gorgeous, fun, trusting day, I felt Deserving (cutting). I haven't cut for while, not since when I pretty much attacked myself. Routine. I kind of just got lost. On the bus, I could the feel the worry fill into me. I now realise it was panic...
That was saturday, around 9:30 pm. Despite calming down, I cut anyway. I think it was routine.
Tomorrow I'm coming out. I haven't got time to write a big analysis on it, so just-wish me luck and wait for the next installment.....
Saturday, July 31, 2004
Friday, July 30, 2004
Update
My life feels...different.
I can't tell how, or why or exactly when it happened, but I have been injected with a large dose of 'fearlessness'. I'm a massive fan of the Fearless series by Francine Pascal. Yes, she's the person who wrote the Sweet Valley High books. I will never forgive her for that. But, I think for all the sickly sickness its turned into delightful dysfunction with her Fearless books. I'm on number 18 when everything changes-would it surprise you if I told you that I've been searching all over Ealing for this book like a month...it shouldn't. I am a total book freak. I have little orgasms over finding the old book that has been revered and recommended, like when I found Martyn Pig after searching for it for three years...or was it two? Ever since it came out anyway.
Anyway there's a description when Gaia is face to face with some menace or thug or something and she says she feels a buzzing sound, where fear is supposed to be and there's adrenaline instead. I think thats where I am at the moment.
Last night I was so ready to come out to my brother. It really was one of those long nights when time is stretching out like a lazy cat (I wrote a poem about it. I have like 8 poems to write up now..) and I really needed to talk to someone because I was going mad and...I'll write up what I wrote later.
Also, I'm entering a BBC competition-its this thing in Edinburgh so I doubt I'll win, but its nice to write simple short stories. I actually wrote two (well, 1 and three quarters.). But you know what I hate about story competitions? Word limits. It just restricts the creativity. I understand if they don't want overlong stupid epic pieces, but 500 words?! More like 600, or eccentric numbers like 628.7, cause writing is eccentric, good stories have good styles, eccentricity. Or just out and out madness-its all good. Anyways, if I don't win, I'll post the story and get you're opinions. I gotta go to Childrens Express-later!
I can't tell how, or why or exactly when it happened, but I have been injected with a large dose of 'fearlessness'. I'm a massive fan of the Fearless series by Francine Pascal. Yes, she's the person who wrote the Sweet Valley High books. I will never forgive her for that. But, I think for all the sickly sickness its turned into delightful dysfunction with her Fearless books. I'm on number 18 when everything changes-would it surprise you if I told you that I've been searching all over Ealing for this book like a month...it shouldn't. I am a total book freak. I have little orgasms over finding the old book that has been revered and recommended, like when I found Martyn Pig after searching for it for three years...or was it two? Ever since it came out anyway.
Anyway there's a description when Gaia is face to face with some menace or thug or something and she says she feels a buzzing sound, where fear is supposed to be and there's adrenaline instead. I think thats where I am at the moment.
Last night I was so ready to come out to my brother. It really was one of those long nights when time is stretching out like a lazy cat (I wrote a poem about it. I have like 8 poems to write up now..) and I really needed to talk to someone because I was going mad and...I'll write up what I wrote later.
Also, I'm entering a BBC competition-its this thing in Edinburgh so I doubt I'll win, but its nice to write simple short stories. I actually wrote two (well, 1 and three quarters.). But you know what I hate about story competitions? Word limits. It just restricts the creativity. I understand if they don't want overlong stupid epic pieces, but 500 words?! More like 600, or eccentric numbers like 628.7, cause writing is eccentric, good stories have good styles, eccentricity. Or just out and out madness-its all good. Anyways, if I don't win, I'll post the story and get you're opinions. I gotta go to Childrens Express-later!
Monday, July 26, 2004
Fuck my last entry
I'm not suicidal. I'm not some whiny kid in her oh-so-terrible london house and pretty car with her room, TV and stereo, and broadband. This person has lived through so much crap-sure, her parents broke up when she couldn't remember, but her Daddy gave her every thing he could and more. She has her job, friends who love her and she was almost popular in high school, but she managed to live all through that with her broken heart, and those god-damn pretty scars. She will prevail. She will not fall. She will not die by her own hands, or feet, or Salesmen. She'll realise what her destiny when she dies.
Saturday, July 24, 2004
Salesmen
Turns out I didn't explain myself about Salesmen. The night when I thought I had truly defeated 'SG' (scissor god) I had realised who were telling me how disgusting I was and that cutting was the only way out. Its those horrid evil voices in your head, turned bitter by worry and regret. Those voices tell you to doubt your soulmate, they cut off your chances, they stop you speaking out and getting the girl. So I call them Salesmen, because they're convincing me to do something I don't need nor want to do. Salesmen only care that you do what they say, using all sorts of their marketing skills-these Salesmen are dangerous because these voices are part of you. There's no point in viewing it as a dot on the horizon. They are part, or all of the evil within us, and its all about seeing through their schemes-its easier to imagine your Salesman as Mr Anderson from The Matrix. Its always so much better to view your enemy, then they're not some mysterious being that swoops upon like a gale. It makes everything so straightforward and rigid in its movements and actions and methods.
So, Mr Anderson beat me, a couple of days ago, and now I'm having a worrying obsession with trains. I've been travelling a lot lately-to Childrens Express http://www.childrens-express.org.uk, or just around...and I've been on my own after a long hard, or dreading it. I end up standing just short of the edge of the floor, just short of the actual tracks, and I wonder if I'd die if I jumped. Its horrible, thinking like that. I watch the metal tracks as if I'm on them, as if I'm about to jump and I keep thinking about what happens till the train pulls into the station and I feel the slipstream. Its a bit of the rush, like cutting-it (cutting) doesn't feel good, but now I'm doing it out of habit, to LIVE. Not to just get through the day, but to just function.
I did a little test to see how depressed I was. Here was the result:
Goldberg's depression test:
You have reached level 69 on the Goldberg scale.
0 - 9
Depression unlikely
21 - 35
Minor to moderate depression
10 - 17
Possibly minor depression
36 - 53
Moderate to severe depression
18 - 21
On the verge of depression
54+
Severe depression You are having suicidal thoughts. This is a serious warning sign, and you must seek help quickly.You have the symptoms of severe depression. The condition seems to cause serious problems in your everyday life, and you should consult your doctor immediately.Depression is a disease like any other disease, and it can be treated very effectively. Recognising that you are suffering from depression is the first positive step. If you are depressed, you should arrange to see your doctor to talk about the illness right away. You may also want to raise the issue with your friends and family. You should look for support from these people you until you get well. Anyone can suffer from depression, and the symptoms can vary from person to person. Treatments, including medication and psychotherapy, have a very high success rate.Please note that this test result is not a certain assessment of your mental health. You should always consult a doctor if you feel depressed or if you feel that worries and anxiety have taken over and affected the activities of your daily life.
So, there you have it. I'm quite fucked up. I didn't realise I was as bad as I was. I also did a Self Image Test, and it says I have Body Dysmorphic Disorder (body hate). So, contrary to what my therapist thinks-I don't cut because my mum left me, I cut because I'm disgusting and I hate myself. Don't know why I'm complaining-I've got the rest of my summer planned. I'm working from Monday to Wednesday, I'm at Oxfam on Thurs and Sundays, and on Fridays I'm at Children's Express writing, so I only have Saturdays free till September. I'm apprehensive...tired...thats all for now.
So, Mr Anderson beat me, a couple of days ago, and now I'm having a worrying obsession with trains. I've been travelling a lot lately-to Childrens Express http://www.childrens-express.org.uk, or just around...and I've been on my own after a long hard, or dreading it. I end up standing just short of the edge of the floor, just short of the actual tracks, and I wonder if I'd die if I jumped. Its horrible, thinking like that. I watch the metal tracks as if I'm on them, as if I'm about to jump and I keep thinking about what happens till the train pulls into the station and I feel the slipstream. Its a bit of the rush, like cutting-it (cutting) doesn't feel good, but now I'm doing it out of habit, to LIVE. Not to just get through the day, but to just function.
I did a little test to see how depressed I was. Here was the result:
Goldberg's depression test:
You have reached level 69 on the Goldberg scale.
0 - 9
Depression unlikely
21 - 35
Minor to moderate depression
10 - 17
Possibly minor depression
36 - 53
Moderate to severe depression
18 - 21
On the verge of depression
54+
Severe depression You are having suicidal thoughts. This is a serious warning sign, and you must seek help quickly.You have the symptoms of severe depression. The condition seems to cause serious problems in your everyday life, and you should consult your doctor immediately.Depression is a disease like any other disease, and it can be treated very effectively. Recognising that you are suffering from depression is the first positive step. If you are depressed, you should arrange to see your doctor to talk about the illness right away. You may also want to raise the issue with your friends and family. You should look for support from these people you until you get well. Anyone can suffer from depression, and the symptoms can vary from person to person. Treatments, including medication and psychotherapy, have a very high success rate.Please note that this test result is not a certain assessment of your mental health. You should always consult a doctor if you feel depressed or if you feel that worries and anxiety have taken over and affected the activities of your daily life.
So, there you have it. I'm quite fucked up. I didn't realise I was as bad as I was. I also did a Self Image Test, and it says I have Body Dysmorphic Disorder (body hate). So, contrary to what my therapist thinks-I don't cut because my mum left me, I cut because I'm disgusting and I hate myself. Don't know why I'm complaining-I've got the rest of my summer planned. I'm working from Monday to Wednesday, I'm at Oxfam on Thurs and Sundays, and on Fridays I'm at Children's Express writing, so I only have Saturdays free till September. I'm apprehensive...tired...thats all for now.
Thursday, July 22, 2004
Madness
Its a bit late and I can't speak for long right now, so here is what happened today:
Today was a double whammy. I had an interview for my first job and I was doing my other job at Oxfam since the Sunday disaster. Firstly, I thought this day would just go badly: I managed to mess up my perfect top and had to change 20 mins before I got there, and I then found out I applied for a totally different job I thought I'd get. I thought I was applying for a job in a hairdressers, but it turned I posted my CV next door and I had applied to a totally different company. So, shaken and shook (I thought I had been pranked) I went to another interview totally nonplussed. But......I GOT THE JOB!!!! Woo-hoo, I was.
The job sounds manic (tough/mad) though. I have to talk on the phone a lot (I'm nervous about talking to strangers on the phone, despite being a Gemini) and make all these appointments. They tried to show me what to do and it just made my brain hurt. That might have been because I stayed up till 2am listening to Alex Parks wondering why I attacked myself (more later). I'm being paid...£4 a hour and now my life will be so busy, because I have two jobs and Children's Express and I'm going to have to juggle everything. At least my typing is better. I like being busy-it means I lose weight. I have proof for this. I have to keep holding up my size 20 trousers: they keep sliding down my arse, which means shopping! and more good news.
Oxfam was cool. I worked with this new guy two years younger than Dad all afternoon and hardly anything went wrong, I even managed to tame the bloody credit card machine. When I got the call that I had actually got the job, I did a little whoop and decided to spend almost all of the rest of my birthday money. I bought three albums from Oxfam (Texas: White on Blonde, MJ Cole: Sincere, Lene Marlin: Playing my Game), then I went to Waterstones and finallly bought this book I've wanted for about two months now (Liam Hearn: Across The Nightingale Floor). I re did my library book (Sarah Waters: Tipping the Velvet-HIGHLY recommended.). I'm re-reading my favourite slash story (Underwater Light by Maya), I got my freebies from Xfm but I have to phone the post office first. I look alright, I'm doing loads more stuff with Childrens Express and I've made some friends there (James, Fikir and Samir). I'm working towards work experience in media and for the next five weeks till COLLEGE starts, I'll be busy everyday except Saturdays. Also, I've written about 15 decent (some more than decent) poems in the last two/three days. I am, truly, on a roll.
This is the best summer ever.
If only I could stop cutting.
If only I could stop being afraid.
If only, if only I could just let go and stop crying. And get rid of my Salesman (I did explain that, didn't I?)
I dunno, its just like two(?) days ago, I was OK. I didn't have a reason to cut, things were going my way for once and everything didn't just seem so hopeless and horrid. Yet that night I cut myself six times. And I managed to punch myself, slap myself, and cry my eyes out. My cutting has sunk to a whole new level (not low, its not really a bitch, really truly.) I remember it now in confusion: it was kinda like a drug and I didn't have to be all theatrical about it anymore, I could just do it to go in-between days. At first I did it because I didn't want to kill myself. Then I wanted to kill myself cutting and had a breakdown over that (cos of the irony?) and now I don't know what to do. It doesn't calm me (as much), it puts me in pain now cause I'm cutting shallower than usual, its nearing the bloody vein, and the amount of cuts are mounting ferociously.
And of course, since my life is always a little fucked somewhere, here's the proof: Ria and Nik, my best friends, the only people who are able to take away the scissors from my hands, are going away on holiday. Nik's already gone and has pissed off for two weeks. Ria is leaving on Saturday, and on her arrival a week from then will be the endgame of lying to Dad (coming out-shudder). I'd tell her about my recent cutting, but I don't want to worry her, and have her worrying about me the whole of her holiday. Its just not fair on her.
And now my eyes are hurting and I have another busy day ahead of me. You know the feeling ypu have when you keep staring at someone and your eyes start to ache and water? Well, I'm having that feeling and I'm blinking....not good.
Also 24 ended...nonononononononnononononononono! Jack is going to the dark side I can see it...everyone is leaving...the President is gone, Sherry is 'dead' (I refuse to believe that until the next series start, next fucking year)...its just not right...how the hell will the next series carry out? Its just blasphemy, y'know?
Ohh, sorry for cutting, for anyone who cares outthere. I can't help being pathetically illogical... x
Today was a double whammy. I had an interview for my first job and I was doing my other job at Oxfam since the Sunday disaster. Firstly, I thought this day would just go badly: I managed to mess up my perfect top and had to change 20 mins before I got there, and I then found out I applied for a totally different job I thought I'd get. I thought I was applying for a job in a hairdressers, but it turned I posted my CV next door and I had applied to a totally different company. So, shaken and shook (I thought I had been pranked) I went to another interview totally nonplussed. But......I GOT THE JOB!!!! Woo-hoo, I was.
The job sounds manic (tough/mad) though. I have to talk on the phone a lot (I'm nervous about talking to strangers on the phone, despite being a Gemini) and make all these appointments. They tried to show me what to do and it just made my brain hurt. That might have been because I stayed up till 2am listening to Alex Parks wondering why I attacked myself (more later). I'm being paid...£4 a hour and now my life will be so busy, because I have two jobs and Children's Express and I'm going to have to juggle everything. At least my typing is better. I like being busy-it means I lose weight. I have proof for this. I have to keep holding up my size 20 trousers: they keep sliding down my arse, which means shopping! and more good news.
Oxfam was cool. I worked with this new guy two years younger than Dad all afternoon and hardly anything went wrong, I even managed to tame the bloody credit card machine. When I got the call that I had actually got the job, I did a little whoop and decided to spend almost all of the rest of my birthday money. I bought three albums from Oxfam (Texas: White on Blonde, MJ Cole: Sincere, Lene Marlin: Playing my Game), then I went to Waterstones and finallly bought this book I've wanted for about two months now (Liam Hearn: Across The Nightingale Floor). I re did my library book (Sarah Waters: Tipping the Velvet-HIGHLY recommended.). I'm re-reading my favourite slash story (Underwater Light by Maya), I got my freebies from Xfm but I have to phone the post office first. I look alright, I'm doing loads more stuff with Childrens Express and I've made some friends there (James, Fikir and Samir). I'm working towards work experience in media and for the next five weeks till COLLEGE starts, I'll be busy everyday except Saturdays. Also, I've written about 15 decent (some more than decent) poems in the last two/three days. I am, truly, on a roll.
This is the best summer ever.
If only I could stop cutting.
If only I could stop being afraid.
If only, if only I could just let go and stop crying. And get rid of my Salesman (I did explain that, didn't I?)
I dunno, its just like two(?) days ago, I was OK. I didn't have a reason to cut, things were going my way for once and everything didn't just seem so hopeless and horrid. Yet that night I cut myself six times. And I managed to punch myself, slap myself, and cry my eyes out. My cutting has sunk to a whole new level (not low, its not really a bitch, really truly.) I remember it now in confusion: it was kinda like a drug and I didn't have to be all theatrical about it anymore, I could just do it to go in-between days. At first I did it because I didn't want to kill myself. Then I wanted to kill myself cutting and had a breakdown over that (cos of the irony?) and now I don't know what to do. It doesn't calm me (as much), it puts me in pain now cause I'm cutting shallower than usual, its nearing the bloody vein, and the amount of cuts are mounting ferociously.
And of course, since my life is always a little fucked somewhere, here's the proof: Ria and Nik, my best friends, the only people who are able to take away the scissors from my hands, are going away on holiday. Nik's already gone and has pissed off for two weeks. Ria is leaving on Saturday, and on her arrival a week from then will be the endgame of lying to Dad (coming out-shudder). I'd tell her about my recent cutting, but I don't want to worry her, and have her worrying about me the whole of her holiday. Its just not fair on her.
And now my eyes are hurting and I have another busy day ahead of me. You know the feeling ypu have when you keep staring at someone and your eyes start to ache and water? Well, I'm having that feeling and I'm blinking....not good.
Also 24 ended...nonononononononnononononononono! Jack is going to the dark side I can see it...everyone is leaving...the President is gone, Sherry is 'dead' (I refuse to believe that until the next series start, next fucking year)...its just not right...how the hell will the next series carry out? Its just blasphemy, y'know?
Ohh, sorry for cutting, for anyone who cares outthere. I can't help being pathetically illogical... x
Sunday, July 18, 2004
Ivy
-I just like the word, its seductive...
Anyhoo, I haven't written in a couple of days, I think. I'm really tired. At last, days of staying up till 3 in the morning has taken its toll. I can't help it, it just seems to be the time I'm most creative/stubborn.
Oxfam was cool. The moment the guy I was working with left I messed up the machine and it took me forever to fix it, which left me tense all day. Aargh-my horoscope warned me last night and I decided to just not listen to it, and I tend to read it every day, just to be prepared, safe in thought that people choose this as their cradle of safety, and I lull myself into a false sense of security. The guy I worked with was interesting-he's introduced me to so many different artists. i heard of Roots Manuva, but I was watching out for MC (Tony?) Rotten. I had heard of The Roots, but I didn't know they were so good. Same goes for MC Solaar-if anybody got any translations of his songs-please, please, please send me a link.
The day before I hanged with Ria, Little Meg, and others: people who used to be my 'friends' but we weren't bothered to pretend any more. Everyone kept showing off on their guitars and Ria was a little frosty to Ciara at times, but apart from that, nothing much. I stayed till quarter to 1am cos I just didn't want to leave her side. I'll write more later, because I'm reading something else (Harry Potter Slash-what else?!), so watch out for the update. Oh, and this site might interest you. He's a great black political writer, and this site says it has some of poems but I haven't looked thorugh it yet: http://www.gilscottheron.com/ . Enjoy!
Anyhoo, I haven't written in a couple of days, I think. I'm really tired. At last, days of staying up till 3 in the morning has taken its toll. I can't help it, it just seems to be the time I'm most creative/stubborn.
Oxfam was cool. The moment the guy I was working with left I messed up the machine and it took me forever to fix it, which left me tense all day. Aargh-my horoscope warned me last night and I decided to just not listen to it, and I tend to read it every day, just to be prepared, safe in thought that people choose this as their cradle of safety, and I lull myself into a false sense of security. The guy I worked with was interesting-he's introduced me to so many different artists. i heard of Roots Manuva, but I was watching out for MC (Tony?) Rotten. I had heard of The Roots, but I didn't know they were so good. Same goes for MC Solaar-if anybody got any translations of his songs-please, please, please send me a link.
The day before I hanged with Ria, Little Meg, and others: people who used to be my 'friends' but we weren't bothered to pretend any more. Everyone kept showing off on their guitars and Ria was a little frosty to Ciara at times, but apart from that, nothing much. I stayed till quarter to 1am cos I just didn't want to leave her side. I'll write more later, because I'm reading something else (Harry Potter Slash-what else?!), so watch out for the update. Oh, and this site might interest you. He's a great black political writer, and this site says it has some of poems but I haven't looked thorugh it yet: http://www.gilscottheron.com/ . Enjoy!
Friday, July 16, 2004
Another Day At The Office
Yesterday I was working at Oxfam again. We met some cool people: a really shy guy who gabbled a bit about some vinyl records he wanted and disappeared, a man who asked for 'Blue Movies' (I still can't believe he actually asked me!), a postman who kissed the shop window cause he thought Jess was fit (which she is) and a load of mistakes by us throughout the day (I still can't use the credit card machine properly, lol) and a BBC journalist who wanted to mention us on the BBC london show. They're doing this thing about the little gems in the city, Oxfam Music shop included. Tom (the manager), rattled on about the shop. Apparentely its the only 'music' shop in London, because the others sell books and other non-music things, they were talking about the roadshow (they're coming down to Ealing Broadway on the weekend of the 28th August-just after my GCSE results, I've noticed-less than six weeks away!). It's great to be part of a brand of people who actually enjoy their job.
Cutting...has gotten easier(to resist). I was talking to a great friend of mine who didn't understand depression because he's quite a happy. I described it as something that chooses you, and you can't control it, you can only cope with it...
Their reply was simple, but like a lot of the things they say, it kinda stuck. They said that I described it was something that controlled me, but that didn't make sense because depression doesn't control me, I control myself. And that stayed with me, because it made this monster in my mind I used to battle with everynight look like some fake kid in a dress. That I had no need to be scared. Cheers, mate.
Today is an off day. Tomorrow I'm going to a birthday party, then on Sunday I have my Oxfam job. Then on Tuesday is the HIV conference, Wednesday I'll probably spend writing up, and Thursday is another interview/job combo. Friday or Saturday I'm going out, then I've got my Oxfam job on Sunday...I love being busy, otherwise I'd just go stir-crazy and bitchy crazy. And I've got these horrible cramps and galaxy hazelnut (my usual medicine) isn't working-damn thing...
Lets call this a happier post.
Cutting...has gotten easier(to resist). I was talking to a great friend of mine who didn't understand depression because he's quite a happy. I described it as something that chooses you, and you can't control it, you can only cope with it...
Their reply was simple, but like a lot of the things they say, it kinda stuck. They said that I described it was something that controlled me, but that didn't make sense because depression doesn't control me, I control myself. And that stayed with me, because it made this monster in my mind I used to battle with everynight look like some fake kid in a dress. That I had no need to be scared. Cheers, mate.
Today is an off day. Tomorrow I'm going to a birthday party, then on Sunday I have my Oxfam job. Then on Tuesday is the HIV conference, Wednesday I'll probably spend writing up, and Thursday is another interview/job combo. Friday or Saturday I'm going out, then I've got my Oxfam job on Sunday...I love being busy, otherwise I'd just go stir-crazy and bitchy crazy. And I've got these horrible cramps and galaxy hazelnut (my usual medicine) isn't working-damn thing...
Lets call this a happier post.
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