Saturday, February 10, 2007

Day 171

I have a cushion on my head. I’m not entirely sure why or when I put it there. Obviously my deportment skills need some attention. It kind of keeps your head warm in an exotic fashion. It is also quite comforting. I might tie it on with an attractive length of garden twine. Or maybe a ribbon would cause less chaffing under the chin?

Not much to report really, but as “she” (the blog) keeps making me feel guilty about not recording my every (bowel) movement, (as I promised myself I would) I am going to endeavour to make more of an effort. Must try harder to keep journal, must try harder to keep journal…etc, etc, etc.

So…I slept ‘till 11am, watched some “Alias”, had a tiny, weenie croissant thingy and a cup of tea. Smoked a billion fags (yes the whole anti stimulant, eating thing is going very well, thankyouverymuch) and then started cleaning the house.

I got an extension on my lease yesterday, so I’m here for another two months, therefore I figured I should make it at least look habitable for the duration. Then I am going to take photos of the clean and tidy flat for posterity, because I shall never again live in such a lovely place.

Met my mate in town at 5pm, (it is still daylight at 5pm now – how depressing, no cover of darkness left) and had a nice coffee and a chat and then snuck off home. I was supposed to be going to an opening tonight but I developed shyness. Mainly because I have large, white dressings on both hands after a bout of painful scratching on Thursday night and feel like a freak. A shuffling, hands in pockets, chin-tucked-into-a-massive-jumper, eyes down, freak. And talking is not on my list of priorities at the moment. Or people.

My Friday counsellor noted interest in getting to know the defiant side of me that keeps sticking out at various intervals. She (the defiant side) is definitely about because everything is pissing me off. Expectations are the worst. Constantly feeling like people are expecting you to do something or be something. It all pisses me off, and all I can think is “WHY?” Why – everything. I just don’t get it. I don’t get the point of it all. Again.

I keep scaring myself silly with dreamlike fantasies of dragging knives up my arms or stabbing myself in the head and after watching the rather disturbing Panorama programme that was on the other night about the scary things that anti depressants can do to a body, I am flipping out about taking my medication. What if it makes things worse? What if it has already made things worse? Much easier to blame the medication than think that these thoughts are actually mine. Oooh, dejavu.

This must be very dull, I do apologise. Maybe I shall develop a doppelganger who is much more interesting and write about her instead. Maybe she shall be an International Woman of Mystery.

I heard my lousy drunkard neighbours shagging last night. It was h-o-r-r-i-f-i-c. And the resident dog has been barking solidly for the last week. Maybe everyone is lying dead in my block and that was the groaning I heard last night - not shagging but murder; and maybe the dog is barking to alert me to the fact that his owner is lying dead in a pool of her own vomit? Oh dear Lord.


Blogger MasterQ said...

You're not dull, it just seems that way when you're the only one listening.

7:45 am  

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