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Please Don't Ask Me To Smile

Brain Stew

Long time, no post

Oh my. Oh wow. It has been an age. Like literally – if time can be different to the dominant understanding it has been eons… light years…. Cat years at the very least, since my last post ( a mere 2 human months ago).

I am now in a relationship. It feels secure, safe and beautiful. He is another soul mate in my life. Wonderful, fascinating and loving. 

My mental health is still an interesting beast. Against popular belief I’m not mindlessly floating through life thinking ‘ohhh all is wonderful and sparkles because a man…. wow!’  I am struggling.

Anxiety is whispering in my ear ‘now you will die, it can’t be this good’, ‘all your friends will hate you for having a boyfriend’ and so on. 

The unachievable yet coveted ‘balance’ is a dream of the past with every waking second yearning to be with him. And then comes guilt – a great friend of depression – saying ‘you’re one of those people, codependent and ditching friends when a man comes along’….

I know these voices are;

  1. Not mine and/or
  2. Not real. 

So I will resist and go with my heart towards the good thing that I wasn’t expecting or wishing for but have been blessed with, nonetheless. 

I am in love with a stunning man. And I’m so happy. 

Nature’s soft nurse, how have I frighted thee…

In a lot of ways I really don’t like myself. 

I absolutley lack self discipline. I’m wide awake right now, it’s 3:36am. I didn’t take my sleeping medication at 5pm like I should have. And by 10 when I remembered it was too late. And I didn’t bring my short release that may have actually helped. Am I addict to seroqel? FFS. 


And I ate so much crap today!! And spent money that I HAVE TO SAVE. 

Tomorrow is the annual countdown of the Hottest 100 songs, a big day for me. A favourite day. 

And here I am. 

Insomnia benefits;

  • I looked at a lot of shark pictures. 
  • I learned some more about Ariana Grande and her brother Frankie. 
  • I terrified myself some more with ideas of how bad things could get with the current American president. 
  • Goats. There’s a lot of them on the internet. 
  • Facebooks stalks!
  • I mindfully explored some mandalas in my closed eyes. As usual a high number of pot leaves were present. 
  • Dog cuddles with nefurew Albert. 
  • I looked up trypophobia. Again. Just to check I’m not imagining it. 

*sighhhhhh*

Following you soul…

I noticed something today. 

I woke up at my sisters house this morning and I could hear a bird screeching. He’s a pet sulphur crested cockatoo that lives across the road and at first I clenched my fists and thought ‘shut the fuck up!!!!’…. then I realised that was all I could hear. No traffic or neighbours (disgustingly) clearing their throats through thin walls. 

Then I got up and went out to put my tent up for an airing. It was warm already and I could hear insects buzzing and cows in the field. 

In the process of putting up my tent I looked at the little room they have down the back that I used to live in – and then each of their children had a turn of calling their own – and I thought ‘maybe I don’t need to live in town’. 

I thought on this all day. 

There have been issues – significant issues -between myself, my sister and her partner. Things have developed and changed though, as they do. And I think this could be a truely happy space for me. 

I could have creative space! 

Green grass!

Actual frosts!

Not far to incredible natural beauty!


So. Maybe in August I will be moving out there! And this, makes me grin. 

The definition of stupidity;

Hasn’t it been said it’s doing the same thing expecting different results?

I am not okay. I do not cope in large crowds of people going about their business quietly let alone crowds of people getting drunk and antagonistic and awful. I have had anxious images of punching people – Bart Curlish (go watch Dirk Gently) is my spirit animal here – making them fall to the ground on more occasions over the last two days than ever before. 

But, although I think like an assassin, I act like a peaceful-hippy-mouse. I sit quietly and hope everyone is okay. Then I yell and scream at my friends about how cunty and awful the whole thing is. 

So. To answer my own question from the previous post, coming to a people filled festival is the definition of stupidity. 

I want to leave. 

On being an Introvert. At bloody Christmas. 

So, the struggle has been real. 

So real that I feel my voice has been muted and thus I have not written. 

Christmas almost killed me. By Boxing Day I felt like I wanted to die. Quite literally, the will to be alive had been sucked from me. 

Firstly work had basically left me an emotional open wound. Many reasons which I will not explore here but I emotionally felt like a fresh graze on a hangover with sunburn. 

Then, Christmas – all the people. Who I love. But they all want you ‘on’, you know? So by Boxing Day I slept til 12pm and when I got up I wanted to be unconscious again as soon as humanly possible. 

So I fled home to be with my cat. 


The very next day it was time to drive to my brothers. It’s okay, his place is like a quiet haven of peace – no need to talk or be ‘on’ so there began my reset I suppose. 

And so now here I am, ready to submerse myself in festival culture for 3 days, I wonder where my head will be at the end!?

Is this emotionally intelligent? To seek enjoyment that drains me so thoroughly? Or is that the definition of stupidity… I can’t tell. 

Home in my Heart

So I have dodged and weaved and avoided my follow up psych assessment appointment. I’ve even lied and said he cancelled on me. I’m sorry guys. It just absolutely terrifies me. I can’t say why. It’s weird. But I just explained to a friend that it feels like that moment in the Lord of the Rings where Samwise, Pippin and Merry (mostly Merry) realise they have to do a thing. 

And the thing is going to make peace possible. And that is soooo cool but fuckkkking hell doing the thing is going to be scary and gross and uncomfortable and dangerous. There will be a necessity to miss out on second breakfast and elevensies!! Then there are the demonic beasties and rough roads to travel… What if I don’t survive? I guess I think…and people tell me… Survival will be more comfortable if I put in the fight.

You know what? I have also avoided all the recommendations in any meaningful way. I can talk the talk and make it sound like the best intentions have been put in place but I am really not walking the walk. 

But. I am not cancelling. I have an appointment in just over 60 minutes and I am going to attend. 
So, “…this is it. If I take one more step it’ll be the fatherst away from home I’ve ever been”. 

https://youtu.be/DcziMI0tol4

Ugh. 

It has been such a while since I’ve posted. Not because things have suddenly been fantastically sunny, glitter covered and wonderful. Nor have they been the depths of darkness and dispair. It’s been that low level buzz of normal, people around me may have thought ‘she seems better’ but no – I have just chosen the road of numb okayness.

Maybe people don’t understand this, maybe people think ‘that’s what everyone does’. Well, let me tell you about numb okayness with my depression. With each little stressor one does not shake it off or feel a little ‘ugh’… The thought process is a little more like;

  • Someone says ‘what are you doing?’ – my response is WHY DO YOU HATE ME I MAY AS WELL DIE FOR FUCKS SAKE.
  • Can’t sleep? – OH MY GOD I’M A PATHETIC DRUG ADDICT I MAY AS WELL JUST DIE WHY AM I SUCH A LOSER OMG. 
  • I watch a show where someone dies – WELL IF ANYONE IN MY FAMILY DIED I WOULD KILL MYSELF AND I THINK I JUST WANT TO DIE NOW AND MAYBE I WILL RUN AWAY AND NOT BE CONNETCED TO ANYONE BECAUSE IT HURTS. 

Like I know that ‘I want to die’ and ‘kill me now’ stuff is like part of our daily lexicon now but I do no mean it that way, obviously. It’s on a more cellular level for me. Like I am ready to finish this now.

New blog post. 

Ohhhhhhhh

I am not … coping I guess? Like I can pull on the mask and go along for a dinner but OMG I feel like I am ready to have a vicious, loud and messy melt down. Like that one thing will make me schitz – great word used by clients long past. 

Pretending to be okay makes the alone time very hard to deal with. 

Sleeplessness Blues

I can’t sleep. 

This is when it gets worst. 

Please let sleep come. 

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