all over the place
Did I tell you that I have a muse?
My muse said a few things to me the other day, things I can't get out of my head. Things that have seen me completely unravel this weekend. Things about being too hard on myself, and losing the 'pleasure' in life. Things about not looking after myself, and generally being in a right old mess. Home truths: they bloody well hurt.
So I've done a great deal of sobbing this weekend, like the self-pitiful fool that I am (too hard on myself, or just stating facts?). And loads of thinking. And then more sobbing. And then mania. Argh. I am filling voids in my life with booze, and drugs and sex, because I don't know what else to fill them with. And of course I blame my mother and my cuntface ex-husband for everything, but it doesn't change the fact that it's wrong, wrong, wrong, does it?
Hence, I am in a state of self-loathing at the mo.
Ya gotta love mardy Mondays, eh.
The muse and the boyfriend both agree that I need to make my life more...er.... rounded. And this is something only I can do, apparently. Great. Where do I start? Somebody mentioned the word 'hobbies' to me, and I shuddered violently as memories of childhood stamp-collecting came flooding back (this is my mother's fault, before anyone decides to take the piss). Somebody else mentioned exercise and fresh air and fruit, and I think I might've stopped listening at that point. I refuse to be a apple-crunching health freak philatelist. I mean, hello. This is me we're talking about. Next they'll be suggesting I go to church to confess all my sins (shall I pack a suitcase?), or worse still, get a job.
But I think the main reason I stopped listening is because they're right, and it's all too much. There is too much. If I take away all the things I do to blur the edges, block out memories, and hide from 'reality', what I'm left with is something resembling a hideous amount of crap.
I don't trust people. I lack self-assurance. I have intimacy issues (the main issue being that I don't know what it is). I use sex as a coping mechanism. I have a drink problem. I don't collect stamps. And yesterday, I wanted to die.
Happy fucking days!
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Obsessions
just about anyone will offer advice, pretty easy to tell someone what they could/should do and then skip off because it's not pretty. The special ones are there to help you through it, pretty or not.
Yep, just like me :)
Pop along, offer advice, bugger off - that's my motto.
Don't go to church, it won't help, it'll only make it worse. You'll hate this, but getting a job is probably a pretty cool idea. Saves spending so much time on your own stewing about stuff. Sorts out a hell of a lot of your "not being rounded" stuff too.
K, advice dispensed, time to bugger of, k bai thx.
Oh BTW, the Inbox may always be open but it doesn't always reply does it? Oh no no no no no no nooooooooooooo... it doesn't...
Furtive, I think I may have let out a rather strangled squawk at this and showed the true colours of my middle-class upbringing. Am suitably ashamed. But, seriously, get a job. if for no other reason than it will stop you spending all day sitting around twiddling your...er, thumbs. Unless you're in college or have very small kids or are medically incapable of working, you have to have something to do.
Going back to work after the kids were born was the best thing I ever did. i think mine are a fair bit younger than yours and they'll pay the price for their mother being a bit of a shit mum but I would have lost the plot staying at home all the time. My brains would have trickled out of my ears. In addition, it brings in money which can never really be a bad thing. And allows for conversation - even if it's with people you initially hate (and I hate a lot of people initially). Quite often they turn out to be a lot more than 'just ok' and they're something other to think about. In addition, take it from me, it's the perfect arena for meeting all kinds of people to have unsuitable crushes on. ;)
Get a job or go to college or something similar. It's the way forward.
None of this can qualify as advice, because I don't know you at all. I'll label it as an opinion instead... How's that?
Incidently, what you're left with (sans booze etc)is not a hideous amount of crap. It's your bloody life. Do something with it, you daft bagagge.
You know I was going to say something but l-q-s said it too well. So, what she said!
Go out; do something; give yourslef a sense of pride and achievement so you can look back and say "I did that. I fucking did that and I'm fucking proud of myself". You can see how good I am at selling this adult education malarkey can't you ;)
I know all to well how easy it is to wallow. For me that comes from being far too hippopotamous-shaped. But, do you know what? No you don't so I'm about to tell you. Next week I have my graudation for my degree, that's what! I might not have enjoyed it and I did want to give up a number of times - but I didn't. That would have been the easy route.
I'm now working full time too out of choice in something I enjoy. And you know what started it. Nearly six years ago (yes we've known each other that long) I realised I had to get out and do something for me. And I only worked an hour and a half a week but it was 90 minutes for me. It was mine. I did it. Nobody can take it away from me. Because it was, and still is, my sanity.
Just think of all those pencils locked in stationery cupboards - what a place for a crafty wank! Go on, you kow you want to...