Six weeks since updating and no doubt this entry I start with good intentions will descend into a series of convoluted explanations and a dull chain of events (nowhere near as theraputic, except depending on where you stand)
I had to take off my watch to start typing this - what does that say about me?
Theoretically, the best way to do this would be to choose - find a point, fix myself to it (stick my courage to the sticking place but I cannot wash things away, just like she cannot remove the spots from her hands) and progress. Move forward and breathe. That's not the way this story goes; it's not who I am, I am a jumble of inadaquaces that I manage to conceal until I am actually needed in a tangible way.
I'm about to spill my innards before you all now; not just the pretty image of the heart glistening and vibrant with life, but the visceral content of my body and all the sick little truths that comprise this sad frame I call myself.
I am ill, currently. I have spent the last 3 days vomiting my guts up, having horrible nausea, migraines, fevers, cold sweats and miserable moods. There is nothing I hate more than nausea. I prefer to spill my guts out constantly for a day rather than to be nauseous for a week.
I had no heating for 5 days. I don't believe this helped this flu that I have been sensing for about a week now. So bad that I could see my breath before me a few nights, and that's not a metaphor.
I work. I work at Fab Cafe, a movie memorabilia bar, that I adore but i missed a shift to flyer tonight. Three strikes in less than 6 months, you're out? I imagine so.
There are debt collectors after me still. I don't know how to deal with them and I would rather sell a kidney than have to deal with debt problems ever again.
I have 9 piercings now. 3 in each ear, my nose, my lip (off to the side) and my tongue. My tongue hurt like a bitch and i hope i never have to take it out because i probably would not get it done again.
My dad had a health scare recently. Within the last 2 months, he started having chest pains that were causing his left side to go numb-ish. He went through a series of blood tests, ECGs and, finally, stayed in the hospital for 5 days worth of monitoring roughly 2 weeks ago. All I wanted was to be home even though I would have just been a wreck. They still haven't figured out what's wrong but it's not his heart - or not obviously his heart. He's massively cut down on his smoking and drinking and now goes for walks in the evening. I've been so scared for him - I haven't been able to shake the feeling under my skin that I was going to have to bury my father before I hit 25.
I began to cut myself off from a circle of people I started to care about because I felt I was losing them. Better to be the one to cut cord than to be the one hanging on. I am revising this plan of action but I don't actually think my initial knee-jerk fear was so wrong.
I haven't smoked since before Christmas, I haven't self-harmed in 4 months and I've changed my medication again. I keep starting over again - maybe one of these times I'll get it right.
Of my close circle of girls (there are a circle of 4 and numberous other singulars), one is engaged and another is expected a child. I am so scared, the world gets older everytime I close my eyes.
Bandom is still my closest addiction and fandom right now. Recently, I have been not worthy of note in any endeavour I set myself in, particularly my co-mod status in super_bandom
but I've been working on my return.
In the past 2 weeks, I have spent nights in the library until midnight, studying and reading and enjoying being a student. I have forsaken all others, shaking off ties of friendship (arguably, and I am a contrary enough bitch to argue the point) in order to work on my degree. This has also lead to my return to writing and art and creation. It feels like some of my cells are being reborn. that is such a ridiculously pretentious English-student way of putting it, but it is the truth. I have missed it, like I miss my home or the feel of my mum's arms or a small scrap of paper/single 0001011010101010001 that comprise a message that read "i miss you, i think of you, where are you?"
My faith is a contentious issue at the best of times but this year I am taking part in Lent. I am giving up swearing and asking for sponsorship. Everyday I fail, I make up the money I should have made that day. At the end of Lent, I plan to donate my scrapings to the charity my mum has founded. There are, however, exceptions to my rule. Swearing in songs (mild, borderline inoffensive as I am going to see the Cobras and Fall Out Boy before the end) and during seminars where our poets swear (Swift, I am looking at you) and for fiction/RP purposes. Myself, as a person, an entity, shall not swear. So the theory goes.
I am single and lonely but "the best of us can find happiness in misery". I tasted the misfortune of trying something, knowing it was unlikely to work and i broke myself, twisted my heart into knots trying to not be such a "fuck-up" and allow this genuinely amazing guy into my life. He is still in my life, but as a friend. It's better this way. It doesn't stop the pain I felt during the period or the pain I feel I have caused him, but I believe that this is for the best.
My skin itches for a tattoo. "I Have Been All Things Unholy" "The fall shall further the flight in me", "I went under the sea. I have been dead, and yet am not alive, but let me rest still", "your halo better gleam", "never knew a part of you you didn't set in ink" and/or "heed to your heart, and not to your wit". I feel it under my skin.
I am a self-depreciating, pitying little fuck and I hate myself for it sometimes.
I am going home for Easter. I will be home for my dad's birthday, and will belatedly celebrate my brother's 21st.
I am moving house at the end of this year.
Recently my geekery has diversified. I have been reading comic books beyond Sandman. "The Umbrella Academy", "Runaways", "Fables", "Lucifer", "The Boys", "Y: The Last Man" and "Watchmen" are all recent geek readings. It has been amazing and I want to try to write a dissertation/thesis next year on graphic novels//comics as representations of modern literature. "Watchmen" will really fucking help me out there. Movie - 2 weeks!
Sunday nights, with the exception of the past Sunday, have been reserved for me and rogue_dreams
to watch Supernatural.rogue_dreams
has probably saved my life in subtle ways since the start of this year. She is my soul twin, my non-girlfriend, my Supernatural-watching partner. We don't need to spend an inordinate amount of time in each other's presence but I love it when we do. She's snarky and a bit of a bitch but in an awesome, take-no-bollocks kind of way that I desperately have needed and funny and fangirlish and what I would be like if I were more talented and more driven. I am, and I rarely use words like these, blessed to have her in my life.
I miss those of you I know online but I cut myself off from lj for periods of time because I believe I deserve you lot. Hence why I vanish. I am usually guilting myself somewhere or working or studying.
I cannot sleep tonight. I'm sweating from this fever but I'm cold and can't get comfortable and can't sleep more than 3 hours. I feel jumbled and slightly lost and it's not just illness that is causing this but I'll blame it on that tomorrow.
"Think of us at all, if not as lost" - where is that from? Have I studied that? It's in my head and daylight is filtering in and I am going to have a shower because it is 7am and I want to try and sleep this migraine-headpain off.