Empty Mushy Head

Miles' job is being cut at the Theatre.

He is looking at it as a promotion to a better-paid job instead of being fired.

Since he is a fully qualified sparky, he already has a job interview lined up for tomorrow.

Nice.

The heat will not relent.

(It's not just my temperature spiking, it's the weather too)

All words have been baked out of my head.

Since I haven't been sleeping much, I've also caught another cold.

Headcold+Hayfever+Heatwave=Nightmare Trifecta

I'M FUCKING SICK OF THIS ALREADY I WANT TO BE ABLE TO GO TO THE GYM PROPERLY NOW THAT THEY'RE OPEN NORMAL HOURS AGAIN.

When I'm pushing myself so hard I can barely stand I also can't think.

Thinking is very bad for me right now.

I would have thought that a big empty hole couldn't get stabbed, but it can.

Random knives to the gut all day.

A song on the canned music. A glimpse of curly grey hair or a certain balding pattern. Little kids with their grandparents. Kind old regulars. Frankfurters.

I'm on a weak, splintery old plank over a bottomless pit.

It is sagging and cracking and I can't see either end of it.

Tempted to jump up and down on it instead of waiting for it to give up on holding my weight.

I want to say thank you so much for putting up with my depressed shit while my brain turns to rotten watermelon guts and leaks out of my ears.



As much as I resent you at times for encouraging/blackmailing/bullying/coaxing me to continue to exist, I do love you.

You deserve better.

~Peri

Just let me go, we'll meet again soon

Every day the sun blasts down and creates unbearable heat.

Every night fog rolls in to coat the world in damp, soft grey.

I feel like I'm suffocating.

It is too hot to do anything. Too hot to breathe.

The cracks have been forming, and this morning I began to break open.

45mins before I was supposed to clock in I started crying.

I was crying so hard I couldn't stand up.

I cried so hard I nearly threw up breakfast from the force of everything trying to escape all at once.

It was too late to call in sick to work, so I had to try to pull myself together and made it there late.

Later than usual, I mean.

It was so embarrassing I had to write a note for the boss on my lunch break and give it to her afterwards.

I think she is getting sick of me.

I would be too, if I wasn't already so utterly fed up with myself.

"I'm sorry I was late to work because I started having a breakdown and couldn't stop crying"

What kind of a bullshit explanation is that?!?

Pathetic.

Fucking. Pathetic.

Somehow I made it through the shift.

One person down, back-to-school rush and balancing on the knife edge of bursting into tears or running out the doors and into the traffic on the one-way system.

Tiny little bit of self harm. There will be no scars from it.

I want out. I want it over. I want this all to stop.

It's not fucking fair. Everyone else gets to die and I have to fucking stay behind.

I want to carve off my flesh and observe my skeleton. Really find out what it look like on the inside, these hard bits of me that make me keep my form when I want to melt into the shadows and disappear.

Part of me wants to do it by losing weight, just to see if I can.

To find out just how far I can push my body and my self.

While I want to find out just how far I can go before starvation steals my sight and my ability to think and walk, that still would not satisfy my curiosity.

What I really want to do is pull my bones out, hang them up and then walk around them.

Scrutinise them from every angle.

For that I would need an MRI-type image of my skeleton and a 3D printer.

I have access to the tools and parts to build a 3D printer, and the Med School surely would want a guinea pig to train the n00bs on how to use the MRI.

How cool would it be to have a necklace of your own finger bones?

Paint them in different colours, or spray them solid black with a dusting of opalescent glitter.

Or how about a poofy skirt supported by transparent resin recreations of your own ribs?

Macabre distractions.

Wobbling along, moment to moment.

Mask on when around people, distract for all I'm worth when I'm not.

Riding a unicycle would be easier.

Holding on from sheer force of habit when the right song can break me into a hundred thousand tiny pieces.

I won't be able to go bury Nana.M because they used my annual holiday hours instead of bereavement leave.

The next death that isn't my own will be the end me.

~Peri

Vlogging in the Heat

Made a quick vlog for you after work last night, forgot to upload it /facepalm



Sorry about how quiet I'm talking and how loud the laptop fan is. This flat gets the sun all day and I'm not kidding about the weather.

My freaking out about moving is swinging between worrying about the logistics of the move itself:
-WTF do I do with Dralion?!? Should I put her in a cattery for a few days?
-Fuck we gotta fit 2 hoarders' houses worth of crap into a small house. DOWNSIZE POSESSIONS

And freaking out about how I'm going to continue eating and weighing as I am accustomed to doing while living with a guy who quietly freaks if I don't eat as much as he does.
-What will he think of me weighing out my dried fruit?
-Will he eat my special treats?
-What if he uses my work lunchboxes for greasy leftovers?

Having been raised by a woman who would starve me as punishment for (what she perceived as) misbehaviour and then spending a year living on $NZD15 for food, having to lock all my groceries away from the flatmates who would steal food and then developing increasingly disordered attitudes to food I get unreasonably territorial around my nommage.

Ever seen how an animal that has been severely neglected reacts when it is being fed around others? (Think horses or dogs)

That is me.

No matter how much I love you, if you encroach on my feed bin without a specific invitation I will stick my ears back, kick and snap.

Time to go get snapped at by customers.

~Peri

Tripping

I feel the denial slipping.

I've been able to go 'Oh no, I'm fine. Really I am' and even believe it for a while.

A lot longer than I thought I could.

The slackline is fraying, the plank is cracking.

I think I'm going to fall.

Breaking into bits long before I hit the bottom.

Is there even a bottom? I don't know.

It's like asking what is inside a black hole.

I fail at all the things normal people can do.

Not being late for work, keeping my vehicle registered and current in it's WoF, paying bills on time, social activities.

So what if I can knit and write stuff? So what if I can put colours together and grow plants from cuttings?

Work tomorrow is going to be hell, especially if I'm out front serving customers again this week.

This is how I distract myself.

I don't know how long it will be enough.

~Peri

Making a Fool of Myself

That is how I feel.

Grumpy, antisocial, puffed-up toad that people keep poking at.

WHY DO YOU KEEP POKING THE TOAD?!? LEAVE THE POOR BASTARD ALONE!

Had a massage today. Got lots of compliments about how I'm in the best state I've ever been, lack-of-injury-wise, and in really good shape to boot.

Considering Aunty Irma showed up for her monthly visit today, bringing nearly 2kg of water weight with her, I'll take that as a compliment.

Afterwards I picked up the second skein of yarn for my shawl. It's already wound into a ball and all ready to knit.

Jaq was in town so we played M:TG and talked a bit.

She said she missed the information-sharing aspect of the community in the hospital she stayed in. Nearly all the information she has so far is from Doctors and from the 'Outside' perspective. I lent her my copy of Madness by Marya Hornbacher and another BiPolar memoir by a local man so she gets more of the 'Inside' view, the day-to-day living with the shit.

It's the next best thing to having others with your particular breed of BrainSpaz to talk to.

I mentioned that I get something similar to her IP community experience here on Blogger. We're all in similar parts of hell, albeit with different scenery.

We can share information about med side effects and the effectiveness of different hospitals and commiserate over asshole family/friend reactions and support eachother through a day of incessant brainmonster screaming.

Speaking of really awesome BlogPeople. . .

An incredible Star sent me a package that arrived today.

She had already told me what was in it, so as soon as I saw the mailman approach and move to put a large brown rectangle in my mailbox I broke off discussion with C-Lady and ran shrieking (literally) up the stairs to intercept him.

He was young, cute, male and intensely amused by my reaction.

C-Lady and her Mum (Who is visiting) were suitably impressed by the fluffy unicorn and not so appreciative of my high-pitched squeeing and impressions of Agnes from Despicable Me.



The guy next door with the dogs came over to see what all the noise was about and check to see if I was ok.

0.0;

Oops.

It wasn't until an hour after this that I realised I'd had my Tshirt on inside-out through all of this. It has embroidery and a section of lining, so it was REALLY obvious.

Oh well.

I'm going to try to fill my hot water bottle with ice chips and go lie down.

It's too damn hot to brain any more.

~Peri

Long Unlisted Rambly Vlog

Ramble about shit that has been happening that I cannot brain into words.

Work, housing situation, neighbour, yarn shopping, showing off crafts.

Long and boring as all fuck.




~Peri

Ugh

Fraying.

Splitting.

Brain is sludge.

Time moves too fast or not at all.

Need to be quiet and by myself.

Don't get to be.

Eating too much, not drinking enough.

Can I take the scissors to my legs?

Want to sleep forever, so I'm making myself stay awake.

Trying to fight it, but I don't see the point.



Dralion is sleeping. I should try to as well.

~Peri

Morbid Philosophy and Going Slightly mad

I've been leaving the house, but I'm still extremely uncomfortable about people.

I'm trying not to think, not to remember.

Keeping busy. Very busy. Busy means not thinking.

House is becoming slowly more organised, tidier even.

Making progress on knitting projects.

All my leaf teas are along the top of the stove.

WHY do people insist on giving me English Breakfast?!?

If I had the money I'd be impulse-shopping garden supplies and yarn and ordering teas from Wellington.

I ran out of yarn for my Dia De Sol shawl, and got Knitworld to order it in for me. Since it won't be here until Tuesday I bought a book instead.

Trained so hard at the gym today I almost puked.

Too bloody hot so I drank too much water during the warmup on top of my pre-workout coffee.

Work tomorrow. Have to go.

Don't want to.

People keep reminding me and trying to hug me.

I don't like being touched at the best of times, but right now I'm a porcupine with a terrier's tendency to bite.

This time off work was not used particularly productively  I could have gotten lost in another world finishing my NaNo story so I can start editing.

Instead I spent time learning about and pondering questions of morality, philosophy and ethics.

Wondering if body-temperature blood has the same physical properties of room-temperature water, and if so would I really lose 4-5kg if I completely exsanguinated myself.

The problem with THAT little experiment is that I would be unable to process the results, as I would be dead.

This is where a totally unethical German Fascist scientist would go round up a few non-Aryan people to run experiments on. Ditto for Fascist Japanese scientists and the rest of Asia. Ditto for anyone who has a strong stomach and an ability to view their fellow Homo sapiens as something rather less than an animal would do it.

Don't tell me there aren't Fanatical, Militant Religious People who wouldn't cheerfully do it to Unbelievers/Followers of other deities/LGBT people if they thought they could get away with it. They are all over the world and already do things only slightly less heinous than methodical vivisection every single day. Just read the sodding news if you don't believe me.

This kind of shit is what keeps my brain distracted.

Insanity and genius are closely related.

They're both pattern-recognition software gone off the rails.

My brain resembles a super-slow-motion train accident.

Thomas the Tank edition, of course. I'm no Pablo Picasso or John Nash.

~Peri

Long-Winded, Ragey, Anxious, Sad

Miles just said he pays more a week in house payments than I do in rent, so if I moved into his house with him I would be paying more rent for a smaller place in a worse location in a bad part of town.

I'm operating at the limits of my budget now, thanks to student loan repayments. Miles makes fuck all at the theatre, since it's a non-profit. He needs to do all the extra projects, ghost tours, juggling gigs and drug trials to stay afloat.

Together we couldn't afford to pay more than $300 ABSOLUTE MAXIMUM. I'm terrified of several possible outcomes:
1) Miles won't want to move there since he has a perfectly good place of his own.
2) My parents will decide to sell it instead of renting it.
3) Dad decides to rent it, and Miles can't find someone to rent his house
4) Dad decides to rent it, Miles CAN find someone to rent his house, Dad makes rent so high we can't afford it.

Me moving into his place is a pipe dream he has. I don't want to move in to his place because it's so small, my bike would be constantly exposed to salt air, there is no way to get away from each-other and I HATE not having my own space to shut myself away in when I need to be alone.

I really don't like uncertainty over housing. It really stresses me out. At least the roof here seems sound for now even if the guttering is busted and growing baby sycamore trees. My neighbours are really cool too and we're making the front yard prettier.

The other day I planted anemone and ranunculus bulbs. Carrie-Apartment-Next-Door said ranunculus were her favourites. I didn't tell her that I've planted them. She is going to completely lose her shit if/when they start flowering ^.^ (They were on sale at the Warehouse, I have my doubts about their viability)

At the gym today the owner said I am "the perfect example of what regular and consistent training does for the physique"

Whatever the fuck that means.

I just refuse to let Drillseargent.G win.

I have officially lost the last of the meds weight from the year of mirtazapine, doxepin and binges, weighing in the upper half of the 58kg weight bracket for the last 3-4 days.

Score.

It only took me 9 months or so. Doing it the right way so that is stays the fuck away is bloody hard. Progress is frustratingly slow and scissors are everywhere.

I'm going to have to do an official 2012 Goal Review and 2013 Goal Setting post before the end of the month. I was going to get to it in the last week but Nana died and I've been dealing with processing both that and her funeral.

Fuck, I won't ever be able to eat blackballs again without sniffling.

The bikkie aisle is definitely off-limits until I can see her favourites without bursting into tears.

Someone just posted a Fantasia gifset on tumbler and I just can't.

Glamour Nana rang me last night to see if I was ok.

It doesn't really hit me until I go to bed.

I can keep busy through the day, and if I have to see people I can stuff it down and act normal enough that I believe it myself.

In bed it just hits me and I lie there waiting for sleep to come and take away the hurt.

It sucks when I have nightmares, but they're usually surreal enough to stay just this side of the line of terror that would wake me up.

Last night there was a horrible old witch who was driving me insane so she could steal my power. Nobody believed me when I tried to tell them the truth, and every attempt to tell them only made her spell stronger. Eventually I started hallucinating and completely losing reality and couldn't trust my own mind any more  so I got locked up.

I really wish I had that luxury. That the people to whom the responsibility for my care would devolve upon were trustworthy enough for me to let go and freefall.

They aren't. I can't. I have to cling to functionality with my fingernails.

I hate it. I wish I could let go and fall. I don't want to keep pretending.

I've got no other choice but to hang on until I can't, then make sure I off myself properly this time.

Distractions. Cup of tea. Lie in bed.

~Peri

Sapere Aude? Audeamus. (A Post as a Series of Items)

The Funeral
Nana.M's funeral was yesterday.

Miles was my ride, and he was running late. Mum rang me 3 times in 10mins freaking out that I wasn't there.

We got there with 2mins to spare.

My fucking poem reading was first.

Random talking, listening to that awful fucking song. I couldn't read the Lord's Prayer. Can't say words i don't believe in even for appearances. Everyone sounded like the Borg, it was creepy.

Mum cried a lot. Weird, since she has vocally and consistently hated her mother for decades.

Found out that talking Nana into taking pert in the bowling on her first day in the home was a good idea. One of her team-mates from the home said she helped them win the bowls trophy back from East Taieri and keep it with their team.

Was very sad.

Waited until I got home to cry.



Random Family News:
Youngest Bro has moved to Oz to play league. I found out the day after he left the country. I would have liked to high-five him for the epic job score!

This was specifically mentioned at the funeral as part of Mum and Aunty Bitchfaces' lifetime game of Sibling Rivalry.

Sigh.



Good Housing News:
Good news is that Little Bro isn't pissed about moving out, saying that he can't afford the place by himself and is sick of having dipshit flatties who wreck the place and that he wants to be closer to his kids. He himself suggested I move in after we get it cleaned up, taking over his rent-to-buy arrangement.

That relives me worries that he would be pissed off and percieve it as Dad booting him out so that I could move in, giving him incentive to come and rob me for drug money. (He has done this in the past)



Bad Housing News:
Worst of house trashing includes a knee-high weedy garden, car parts all over the kitchen and an area where puppies were penned on the carpet without anything under the pen. The whole place has to be re-carpeted. Miles and I are going to have a look this week.

Mum wants to sell the place and Dad doesn't so much. He will have to "Crunch the numbers" to see how much he can afford to rent it for. I reckon the money-hungry fucker will charge Miles and I more than Little Bro, more than even a rates increase would warrant. No such thing as Equal Treatment of Offspring in this family!

NB: This is the guy who put my board up so I couldn't afford to move when he got wind of my desire to move to Sydney and board with Glamour Nana (His biological Mum) and get a REALLY FUCKNG GOOD degree at Sydney University. Lets face it, if anyone overseas has even heard of New Zealand or The University of Otago you would know it at the Useless Cop-Out Pisshead University instead of the one with the Badass MedSchool or producing the best quality research in the country. Most employers would rather hire a goat than an Otago graduate.



No work today, no work until Saturday. I've watched Battle Royale and The Hunger games and made good progress on my pretty shawl.

Sitting on the couch all day. I should move around but I have no motivation. Why bother?

Scales have been behaving, most because I'm living on fruit, coffee, porridge and feta.

I'm so angry that everyone else gets to die and I don't.

It's not fucking fair!

Gym in the morning. At least when I'm focusing on surviving this evil sodding program I can't think.

~Peri

LOTS of Photos From the Road Trip

Because of the fucking awful wind and the angle of the sun I didn't take any photos on the way up to Glamour Nana's.

On the way back I got you heaps :)

The rivers are the fullest I've ever seen them because of the torrential rain over the headwaters of the lakes. It was brought by the same weather system that gave us the 150km/hr gales, but it ran into the Southern Alps and fell out of the clouds.

Poor bastards on the West Coast are having an awful time of it with landslips and flooding and we have MORE heavy rain warnings for them today. Fuck.

Ok. Something sunny and cheerful.

Sheep and cows. Some sheep have been shorn, some have not. Spot the difference.

The road north of Ashburton

The Rakaia River

Random stuff

Rangitata River

Wainakarua

Waitaki River

Shag Point beach. Comes with bitchin' sedimentary rocks, BYO circus

Miles is awesome.

~Peri

Mission to Glamour Nana's and Rage at Parents

Miles and I drove up to see Glamour Nana despite severe gale warnings.

Its was. . . Interesting.

Most definitely "Oh god, oh god we're all going to die" especially when crossing the Rakaia River gorge in a big Toyota van during a 150km/hr gale.

Thank goodness that boy is a hardened juggler and had the arm strength to keep us on the road!

The trees were shedding all over the bloody place, so shelter belts were almost as dangerous as open road due to flying branches and pinecones -.-

We saw motorcyclists with other motorists helping them off the road, three people to a bike to keep them upright.

Glamour Nana and Grandad were happy to see us, and the Ratdog nearly died of excitement. (It could have been a canine midlife crisis, she is turning 9 this year)

There was lots of talking, Grandad convinced Miles to have a whiskey with him while Glamour Nana and I crafted and talked shit.

We introduced Glamour Nana to Lindsay Stirling and taught her to do more things on the computer while Grandad grizzled about how long and boring his holiday was and gave Miles gardening tips and bragged about how well the quails are producing eggs.

Yup, they have laying Rhode Island Reds AND laying quails. Suck it.

Dinner was schnitzel from a local butcher and silverbeet, spuds and carrots from their garden. SO GOOD!!

The power went out just as we were going to bed and didn't come back on again until nearly lunchtime, so breakfast was bacon and eggs done on a camp stove.

Glamour Nana and I talked more about childhoods and headspaz and stuff, and she tried to convince me that I won't be the same kind of abusive tosspot my Mum was/is and I should have at least one kid with Miles to "break the cycle".

/facepalm

I hope I managed to clear up some of her misconceptions regarding suicide being selfish and that the people who attempt it don't think about those left behind.

We do, we just think you don't care or that you'd be better off without us.

Miles helped Grandad clear some dead wisteria off their water tank (Grandad wasn't allowed to climb trees when he was a kid, so he never learned how. Glamour Nana sneakily let their kids climb so long as they were out of the trees before he got home) and we headed home after late breakfast.

I got you lots of pictures on the way home. Despite how dry everything is the rivers are the fullest I've ever seen them thanks to the torrential downpours over the headwaters brought by the same front system that gave us those sodding northwest gales.

It was still quite windy, but not as bad as the trip up. We drove straight east for the first part of it, and practically FLEW with that wind behind us!

Driving east is something I don't do very often, since everything east of me is usually ocean. (Look at Dunedin on a map. Most of the world is north and west of here unless you're a penguin fiend)  It took me a bloody long time to work out what felt so wrong about the trip and why I was seeing the shadows point a different way across the road.

On the way home we stopped in Oamaru to visit their epic craft shop (I got ONE ball of sock yarn. Self control of a saint RIGHT THERE) and pottered about on the beach at Shag Point.

No, we didn't shag at Shag Point. There were children around, FFS!

Then we got home and Dad rang to tell me about Nana.M.

Her funeral is organised for Monday afternoon. Mum wants me to read a poem "Because you did at Grandpa's funeral" in that upset and hurt tone of manipulation after I said I had nothing I wanted to say and that I don't write poetry so I can't just bang something out for the occasion.

With her usual level of thought she went to the first thing that popped up on Google and picked some godawful piece of trash full of rhyming couplets that has no relevance whatsoever beyond "Nana had a handbag and she gave you kids lollies and stuff from it, but you should change this and this and this to make it relevant"

UM, HELL NO.

I AM NOT BUTCHERING SOMEONE ELSE'S WORK JUST TO SUIT YOU.

FUCK THAT SHIT.

THEY WORKED HARD ON IT. NO MATTER HOW MUCH I HATE THE POEM I ACKNOWLEDGE THEIR EFFORT AND I WILL NOT TURN IT INTO SOME FRANKENSTEIN MONSTER OF PLAGIARISM JUST TO SOOTHE YOUR HURT FEELINGS.

Yes she just lost her Mum, but it's bringing out the worst of her bad behaviour and immaturity and reminding me of why I have minimal contact with the woman.

Do I need to remind her that it was UNCLE B, the biological son of whom Grandad disavowed paternity of TO HIS FACE, that asked me to read a poem at Grandpa's funeral? It was Uncle B who put a lot of effort into finding two well-written, relevant poems for me to read out.

It sure as shit wasn't Dad.

Mr Will-Obsessed Businessman had nothing to do with it.

RAGE

I found two poems that are more suitable and I'll do one of those. (This or This)

I'll post up the photos from the trip back separately, since this is getting really long.

First you need to meet Missy, my big tough truck-driving Grandad's ratdog -.-

~Peri

Another Death

Got back into town about 1.5 hours ago.

Dad ring an hour ago to say Nana.M had died 10mins previous.

I've been expecting it since she was given an hour to live last year, but it's still a shock.

I'm numb.

Will tell you about trip to see Glamour Nana tomorrow, I took lots of photos for you on the way home.

I never got to find out if Nana.M liked her socks.

~Peri

Brain=Mashed Bananas+Some Pictures+ Some Rants

Work has been a massive pile of hairy arse.

Long busy shifts with a minimum of one person off without being replaced.

NOT FUCKING COOL!

On the bright side, Summer School has started so the influx of eyecandy of both genders has been greatly appreciated.

I met a lovely Dutch-accented girl today who had just completed the first day of her Pharmacy PhD, her thesis being something to do with vaccine development.

:3

Still can't get to the gym, and since my weight has begun to slide down I can only assume I'm losing muscle mass since I'm not training.

MASSIVELY. PISSED. OFF.

I forced a timetable change so Miles and I are heading up to see Glamour Nana on Wednesday morning, and will be back on Thursday night.

Have some more of my shitty tablet drawing attempts to make up for lack of shit to write about.

My first full horse in several years, based on my Trackerjacker. So many mistakes I can't look at it anymore:

Here is my Liliane no Gentian as a human. Tutus are weird and ballerinas have AMAZING legs and I suck at legs and feet right now:

This is Gemini's Supersonic:

Fuck I need to work out how to do pretty smooth lines and learn how to shade properly with Photoshop.

So tired.

My brain is mush right now.

I just tortured myself by listening to the longest interview full of some of the purest bullshit I've ever heard and thought I was stupid for not being able to make sense out of complete and utter nonsense.

The guy being interviewed tried to claim that you don't need brain function OR a functioning brain to be conscious.

What the actual fuck?

I actually lost my shit at that point and started laughing so hard I though I was going to die.

There are so many fucking creepy new ideas for 'Keys' in that statement (Cinnamon, you know what I'm on about) that it will in no way be child-friendly even with a child as the protagonist.

Meh, Ender's Game isn't exactly aimed at under-10s either.

Kirk made me rage SO HARD when we were discussing Jaq's Bipolar 2 diagnosis. (She spent 3 months in a private hospital in Oz after a severe set of manic and suicidal episodes. She is now on mood stabilisers that work and is receiving psychotherapy. She has not yet had the psychotic break that would mean a diagnosis of Bipolar 1)

What made me rage was that he said that based on his own personal experience, he didn't think that illnesses like Bipolar Disorder (no matter how severe) and ADHD and Aspergers and Autism and Depresson needed to be medicated at all. He said he believes that the human body is a very "healing" organism and the brain and body can "heal themselves of these conditions" without pharmacological interference.

The guy is SO FAR BEHIND the times when it comes to psychiatry and neuroscience that it isn't even funny.

Kirk doesn't believe that any mental illnesses other than schizophrenia are caused by the way a person's brain is wired. He is utterly unconvinced that mental illnesses are caused by something PHYSICAL and that some can ONLY be combated by things which tinker with the faulty circuits and chemical bath of neurotransmitters to make them come closer to a more normal way of functioning.

The attitude that every mental illness is something that you can 'get over' and NOT something that you may have to carefully manage for the rest of your life infuriates me beyond belief.

He is an otherwise intelligent bloke (Or as intelligent as a massive stoner can be) so the lack of curiosity and willingness to believe arrant nonsense drives me up the wall. Most of the time talking to him feels like wading through a waist-deep river of partly frozen bullshit.

I miss the shift-long arguments about politics and philosophy and ethics with Blondie.

At least Seafood Dude can hold and intelligent conversation, even with his untreated ADHD. (His doctor doesn't believe that ADHD or ADD exist)

You just have to learn to get him back from the sidetrack before he wanders too far off and loses the association to the point he was trying to make.

Yesterday we disturbed a customer because we were talking about how you can't create a Klein Bottle in 3-Space without self-intersections (Because I want a Klein Bottle hat without self-intersections but it's impossible for me to have one) and he tried to explain to me how you can't really model 4D objects like properly that on a computer either.

I don't understand computer or rendering software talk very well, but Seafood Dude made a damn good go of it.

Not the kind of conversation you expect to run across in a supermarket at 5pm on a Sunday night now, is it?

~Peri

Unlisted Vlog: FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING BITCHFACE

Unlisted Vlog=You can only watch it on blogger, it doesn't come up on my YouTube channel when I upload it.

Prevents having to delete all and run when workmates find YouTube channel.

Sorry, this video didn't stay short.

Binged last night.

Triggering?



Fuck you Mum. Just fuck you.

Away Tuesday evening straight up after work to visit Glamour Nana, back Thursday night.

Sorry about this. Just. . . sorry.

~Peri

Conflicted

Today Jaq randomly showed up at work.

She's back in the country "indefinitely".

I got really excited and hug-attacked her. She turned bright red; hilarious.

We were really good friends for a year or so, then drifted apart and I've only spoken to her once since she moved to Aussie just over a year ago, so I have no idea what's been going on.

I have to admit that a lot of the drift was deliberate on my part.

Part of it was me pushing EVERYONE away in 2011 so I could kill myself wile upsetting the minimum number of people. I just didn't try to socialise.

Part of it was how she acted.

Whenever she said she needed me I was there, but when I needed a friend I got blown off, my problems belittled.

Case in point:
-When she told me her calling in sick was actually the result of an attempted suicide by overdosing on party pills I gave her a hug and asked if she needed to talk about anything.

-When I went in to work still sick with paracetamol poisoning from an attempted suicide and tried to talk to her about it, I couldn't even get to the part where I admitted the attempt before I was told I'm not as fucked up as other people.

So, yeah.

Today she told me she had been diagnosed with Bipolar while she was in Australia, I asked if it was Type One or Type Two and if the treatment was on top of it.

I mentioned that I was finally getting decent therapy for my fucking Clinical Depression and got that look.

You know the look I mean.

That blank-with-a-touch-of-condescension look which implies that you're an attention-seeking little faker.

I was so happy to see her again, but now I'm not so sure.

She wants to hang out tomorrow lunchtime, just after I see Kerys for the first time in 3 weeks.

I'm betting with myself that she cancels.

It's going to be sunny tomorrow.

Part of me wants to be a total BITCH and wear a short skirt to shove in her face that I'm skinnier than the girl who claims to have gone through "that Bulimic phase" and "gotten over it".

She knows nothing about my food problems. Nobody here knows anything but Miles, and I've only told him about the bingeing.

I want to shove my scarred thighs in her face until she admits that I'm not fucking making shit up for attention.

But that shit is stupid and counter-productive and I won't do it.

Also have to keep in mind that she is still only the age of my little brother, no matter how mature she can act at time. She still has some growing up to do.

This 'normal person' act means it's really fucking hard to reach for help.

When you finally screw up the courage and try to talk to a good mate who then tells you to "get over it" because it's "not that bad" it makes it harder to open up the next time.

Better to keep it in.

Stuff it down with food and bleed it out with a blade.

I'm so antisocial that I make very few real friends and tend to value relationship more than the other person does.

So twitchy trying to not binge that I had to cancel a movie night with Miles.

I don't know what I'm not wanting to think about, but I do know I'm dying to eat myself into a stupor or get drunk and cut up my legs.

I haven't done either in so fucking long.

If Jaq cancels tomorrow I'm taking my poi to the park for an hour after seeing Kerys.

Get some mood-stabilising endorphins that way since the gym is still on holiday hours.

Right now I'm going to make a milo and watch Thor.

Because Hiddles and Loki angst.

MUCH MUCH better than stuffing myself until I pass out.

but I want to

Fast running out of self-control.

~Peri

Anniversary, Food, Gym, Frustration

Miles and I had a good 3 Year anniversary.

He picked me up at lunchtime and we went down to the Esplanade at St.Clair and had lunch at one of the swanky bar/cafe places there.

We sat outside, which became a little problematic when the wind picked up.

The seagulls were also a bit of a nuisance too. I wish people wouldn't feed them. They're certainly big enough and ugly enough to go find their own food!

For some reason they don't like it when you contemplate ramming your fork through their beady little eyes.

Not that I'd be allowed to. Two of the three species are tacitly protected by DoC.

The cafe//bar had AMAZING food, and they do a high-quality pizza big enough to feed Miles so it's on the list of places to go back to.

I got pasta with cabonara sauce, parmesan and bacon. It was incredibly tasty and I'm glad I got the half-portion, since even that was slightly more than a normal person's meal size.

Just to be on the safe side I asked for NO mushrooms. I'm not a fan of involuntarily tasting the same meal twice.

Afterwards we went shopping so I could get a planner diary for 2013 and he got me an anniversary present  since he forgot again. (Avengers on DVD, this guy knows me well)

I got him chocolate-coated coffee beans, Kahlua chocolates and Bailies chocolates, since Farmers had 60% off their Christmas candy and I can't remember which of the liqueur chocolates he likes better.

All the markdown Christmas lollies are really tempting, I've been feeling fucking bingey lately and I have no idea why.

I will not binge. I WILL NOT BINGE.

I'm either trying to keep something stuffed down and want to numb it with food, or getting over this cold is making me want comfort food, or eating all the staffroom chocolate has ripped the packaging off my sweet tooth from the last time I put the fucker safely away.

I. Will. Not. Binge.

I don't know when I can get back to the gym. I was planning on going this Friday but their holiday hours mean I won't be able to.

I'm watching the scales for a sudden drop that will mean I've started to lose muscle mass.

I don't want that.

My metabolism will slow and I'll have to rebuild it all before I can push for more strength.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

Not happy.

~Peri