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I am dreading work today because I have to meet with the principal and see if he'll 'OK' my design for the newsletter. I'm hopeless at selling myself and my wares so this is going to be an unpleasant experience.
If only I could inoculate myself against this sort of stress and just roam free through life with that sort of 'Haha, fuck it, whatever I do is golden' attitude that a lot of my peers seem to have. Sadly, my biggest critic is myself and I'm quite the bitch.
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So, I decided to make my to-do list blaringly obvious. This is my current wallpaper.
Yes, I have to remind myself to eat correctly and not freak out. I tend to forget that things are way more better and far more awesome than I give them credit for.
Where do you stick your positive reminders?
(And yes, my macbook is named 'Medusa')
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Oh god. My BFF and lilbro and I got so damn trashed last night, watched Squidbillies, played Guitar Hero: Metallica, and made so much noise that the neighbors complained.
It was really, really awesome.
This hangover is less awesome, however.
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HOLY SHIT FUCK YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
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A possible character for that comic book I have plans to do but get hesitant about sitting down and actually start writing.
I'm not a real writer, kids. Being a depressive alcoholic nutjob isn't enough, sadly!
I have been sketching in my black book like a madwoman. It's a horrible freak show in there, this guy is the least objectionable of the bunch. :(
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I swear to god if they find anything *else* wrong with my reproductive system, I'm just going to ask for a full hysterectomy.
It's not like I'm going to need that shit, anyway. Not to sound all boo-hoo-hoo and Jennifer Aniston-esque but, really, my baby makin' epoch is pretty much over before it began, and given the possibility that I may have endometriosis, I'd rather just enjoy having a penis in me sans the stupid uterus and ovaries making my life a living hell sitting right above it.
And ladies and germs, Zofia really wants to enjoy having a penis again. Emphasis on 'enjoy', too, please. No more laying on my back and thinking of England (or Australia, in my case).
(And no, I'm not soliciting volunteers, but I appreciate the sentiment).
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[ bouncy <- mood ]
I crashed again on Tuesday.
Sat in the car for half an hour before work, crying. I even called my mother, who I had *just* driven to work, and said 'Hey, uhm, say something productive and motherly or I won't be able to walk in the door today'. She kinda fell flat on that one, but she tried. So she gets points.She still hasn't taken me out for ice cream and movies, but it was a nice gesture, at least.
And then I went to work. And suddenly, everything was much more tolerable. Actually, it was beyond tolerable, it was 'fantastic'.
I've never done anything meaningful with my life until now, and my job just seems to slip nicely into that corner of my heart that needed furnishing, dusting, and polishing. I guess my definition of 'meaningful' might seem a little odd to some people: I've traveled, fallen in love, have a degree (as lulzy as it is), lived abroad, made art, learned to speak several languages, been an internet nymphette, but none of it really shot an arrow tipped with 'fulfilment juice' into my chest, either.
So coming to work in the morning, half an hour late, tear streaked, and being able to leave again at 5pm with a self-satisfied smile at having completed all my work and made sure that my responsibilities to the school were done and dusted before the bell rings the next day at 9am is kinda incredible. To me, anyway.
I've got a large motherfucker of a project i've signed on to do for them, and I have less than a month to design, create, and implement it for them before I go on holidays. And I'm going to be building it in InDesign, although I've never used the program before ('Cause Microsoft Publisher is fucking lulzy).
Can I do it? Holy shit I hope so, 'Cause I'm freaking out like WHOAH at the steep learning curve.
So there's the good news.
The bad news is, I've completely destroyed my knees from my daily jogging, and I need to take a forced break and pursue other activities. I am mucho saddened by this. My advice? Never wear bad shoes. EVER.
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It's a really depressing day, for myriad reasons.
Some of us have personal anguish. Some of us are affected by larger events beyond our control. If you've watched Neda die on Youtube today, you're probably aching with grief for a girl you never knew.
Maybe you're ill, heartbroken, or counting every last penny. Maybe your cost of living keeps rising and your wages never seem to.
Maybe you're afraid to get out of bed in the morning. Maybe the world's just too damn depressing.
Motherfuckers, we need a MacroMonday around these parts. Because laughter at senseless Internet memes is something they can't take away from us.
( So make me laugh, you motherfuckers. )
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I crashed yesterday. Hard.
Woke up, felt exhausted, took the day off. Slept 'til noon. Started crying uncontrollably at regular intervals. Consumed banned foods including chocolate and dairy. Tried desperately to take my mind off of my feelings in photoshop. No dice. Talked to Scott on the phone, kept crying and apologizing repeatedly for my mood.
Drank three glasses of wine to get numb. Still. Nothing. Those are banned, too, but by that time I just figured I'd already been 'bad', I should at least take it a bit further for the possibility of catharsis.
Walked 5 kilometres at 9 at night, just to try and drown myself out of my skull. Even put new music on my ipod. Drank carrot juice and sketched in my book.
Nothing.
Scott tells me not to freak out; that days are just 'going to be like this'. I'm aware of this except when they happen for no reason at all. I was doing really well, in fact. And then BOOM: I'm curled up in bed crying to old VAST albums.
I'm suspicious of my vagina at this point (been bleeding heavily for about a week now; no sign in the flow letting up, this is definitely not normal. Culprit? Time for doctors with cold speculums?) but also know that it could just be 'delayed pain' from months of the most heinous bullshit ever.
My star signs aren't being very helpful. Scorpio is always 'sexy and aventurous'. Well, being sexy and adventurous has it's fucking downers, too, but I guess nobody would read horoscopes if they told it how it really was.
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[ awake <- mood ]
Work is going well. I don't see kids as much now that they've got me getting the weekly school publication done every week. From banging on the principal's door to get his hand written front page blurb to getting fonts to bend to my will to printing out every single copy and bundling it for the oldest student in each family, I am one busy bee and I work like a dog on it.
But I love it so much. I jump outta bed in the AM looking forward to getting to work. It's pathetic. I only hope that I'll find something this fulfilling when I move away from Cairns.
Health wise, I am doing great. This will be month #2 that I'm sober (well, except for that one night out on the town, YEESH!) and cigarette free. I don't have any vices and I'm not completely bored with myself yet. A good sign, non?
I've switched to drinking soy milk and I love it. If I could cut all the other dairy out of my life I'd be happy. I'm not convinced soy is a healthy alternative either, but it's going to help me with my reliance on coffee in the mornings. Because black coffee is just, you know, GROSS.
As for meat, I've been a vegequarian (It's Ok to eat fish, 'cause they don't have any feelings) twice in my life and it's pretty tempting to go back. I can't stop eating fishies. Do you have any idea how amazing a freshly caught Scarlet Sea Perch is, pan friend in butter and drizzled with lemon? If you do, then you would know why.
I've started up Body Pump classes again. Resistance training after years on hold is so, so damn painful. I was walking like a penguin all week, and last night my biceps were on fire and kept me awake until 1am. I balanced a book on my knee and stretched them while trying to read Betty Friedan. Muscles shouldn't be allowed to hurt this much!
Also, as some/most/god knows how many of you all know: there is a guy. His name is Scott. And I really, really like him a lot.
A lot.
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[ bouncy <- mood || music -> Talk Talk - I believe in you ]
My new goal I've set for myself is to be able to run the 5km track nonstop, sans stitches.
It will take me a few weeks, maybe even more. I'm horribly unfit, have probably done some irreparable damage to my heart and lungs with smoking, and I'm not as young as I used to be.
But dammit, I wanna become some sort of machine. I used to run that track sans problem. Now I'm a little weakling.
I love the advice I received re:the bloat blues. I do love you guys a lot. Any tips on helping me reach my goal will be muchly appreciated <3
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The word on the street (or the playground, as it were) is that I am the 'cool new office lady'.
I'm cool, apparently, 'cause I'm young and snarky and I wear a Metallica T-shirt. It's gonna be bitterly disappointing for the kids when they discover that I am anything but cool, though.
First day was good. I'm exhausted. Physically and emotionally. I didn't think that I could do it. All those smiling kids and happy moms kissing them goodbye. Suddenly I felt so alone and alien. I just wanted to assimilate myself somehow. The sullen looking goth girl ferrying teenagers around. I must look like a weed in a flower bed.
All I could think of was laying in bed with Bob Dole and Piglet.
My life was so simple, but complicated. Now it's busy, and uncomplicated. No time to breathe versus too much time exhaling hoarse, ragged breaths. This must be why people settle.
They settle 'cause they know there's never a happy medium. Life's always a seefuckin'saw.
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Two things.
- Blood and Urine clear, all signs point to 'grats on quitting, nubcake'. Now to just start up my jogging again.
- I start work tomorrow. 9 til 3. Heh. Gotta love school hours.
I wonder what the kids are gonna call me?
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Woke up this morning with my Macbook tucked away neatly on the side table and two blankets covering me. My mother must have come in and 'fixed' me, and I didn't wake up. I must really have been exhausted.
Test results should be back by now, but I have a feeling that the Doctor will say 'your dizzy spells were related to quitting smoking', because they seem to have evaporated. You have NO IDEA how close I was to relapsing and buying a packet last week. I'm really thankful that I didn't. The spells, the nausea from ingesting all those chemicals, the ticklish lungs when I wake up in the morning...
Thank Christ I've discovered 'willpower'.
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Adam and I spoke. We cried. We seem to understand the other a little more now. He has a perspective now that he probably wishes that he never had. Likewise for me.
I was wrong to believe some of the things people have tried to tell me. I should have known better of my partner of six years.
I owe Adam an apology. Adam, I'm sorry. Though one of the drama instigators is still trying to contact me to needle away at me, I won't listen. I will ignore them. I just wish you hadn't allowed so clearly emotionally unstable a woman to hurt you. :(
But you've been to the depths of my hell. You'll walk away scarred, but, if you can handle it, you'll walk away alive.
I'll always love you. You know that. Just please look after yourself.
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Another nightmare. Everything is calm, normal. We walk along, as we used to. The old sense of security.
Suddenly, violence. He forces me to my knees, opens my mouth. First his penis, then a handgun. He pulls the trigger. I wake up. There is sweat everywhere. Want to vomit but nothing comes up.
I've never felt so alone.
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Time for another installment of screen-shotted conversations!
On the joys of raiding with a mind-numbingly slow wireless connection:
Maybe this is my problem? :(
I know I'm special because there's no one else as fucked up as me:
Well it seems kinda gross when you put it THAT was, sheesh:
Don't call us n00bs cause we hate AoC :(
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If you were looking for drama, it was purged. As I said to a friend: "I got irritated, I got public, now I'm purging. It's like drama bulimia!" Yeah, I know. I wasn't afforded the same dignity back in 2006-7 but that was then. This is now.
Ugh, I was going to post pictures and I've lost my compact flash card reader in my bedroom somewhere. They were really awesome pictures, too. So this entry is semi-pointless.
Actually, not all is lost. I've invented the phrase 'drama bulimia'. Genius, right?
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I appreciate all of the kind words and encouragement. It's been nice to hear. A couple of 'told you so's in the mix, but, they at least didn't come across as too gloat-y. And yes, I know that I can do better.
But, you know. I was 21, I was young, it was Spring...
Anyway. Six years down the toilet is one thing, but the next six should be better. Far North Queensland may be a boring place to live but the space it gives you to sit and mull things over is... well, spacious space. I've got a few plans both short and long term and I'm really happy about them all. I contemplated often whether or not I wanted to 'do it alone' and what that really means. People have varying ideas about what constitutes independence and mine is a fairly strict definition of the state: sans help from anyone. But I've been alone now for a few months and the realization creeps in that it's never really possible to be completely alone and succeed. People are always flanked by other people. What matters, ultimately, is the quality of your support network. If you're locked into a cycle of co-dependency in which a partner thrives emotionally on you needing them, for example, *cough* you're better off cutting that relationship away like a septic limb.
What I've discovered, I guess, is that I do need to be around people. It isn't shameful or weak of me. I can accomplish stuff on my own, but, wouldn't it be nice and cool to accomplish it as an individual romantically linked to another individual? Instead of simply being 'so and so's wife', instead of living in someone's shadow? I think about it a lot now and my tummy churns a little: it seems like an impossible dream some days. In the context of a relationship, no two people are ever equal, are they?
It's a lot for me to think about. One of the tasks ahead of me is to dispel some of the negative beliefs I have about myself that Adam inculcated in me. I also have to believe that I can trust another human being again. There's something a very good friend keeps saying to me whenever I am heading off the right track: "It was a shitty life, but its not your life anymore". If I can expand on this phraseology, I can extrapolate also that "I was a miserable girl, but I'm not miserable any more". It's a work in progress, however.
It's been a strange weekend. There's a package waiting for me at my grandmother's house and I'm hopeful about what's inside! Government agencies are slow and painful to deal with, so I'm kinda amazed I survived the wait without breaking something! I am also thankful that at least paper mail isn't something Adam can tamper with. ;)
I'm kinda miffed that I have to get ready to start this work on the tail end of such drama, but, the work I'll be doing makes a difference in people's lives. I've accomplished more in the two months I've been here than 12 months in Calgary, so I know I made the right decision. The relationship was dead weight that was stopping me from growing as a person. I look forward to growing.
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I will not be returning to Calgary. There is no chance of Adam and I getting back together again. And after his recent behavior, I no longer trust him as a friend, either. If you wish to have private conversation with me, please contact me on a messenger program (seen in my user info) as my email account is insecure. Until I can move over my website and e-mail, I will not enjoy free, unmitigated discussion with anyone about anything.
/end public service announcement.
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