I've not written in a while. A lot of the reason for that is always being out, being away, spending time anywhere but at home in this small room with only a console and this small screen for company. I'm not even going to attempt to cover the entirety of the time missed out in the middle as I usually do but will attempt instead a brief (hah) summary of the important changes and events.
I've had a run of abysmal luck, and to be honest it has begun to affect me in odd moments of depressive relapse. See, depression isn't something you can ever truly get rid of, only stave it off for as long as you can before it comes back then try to fight it back again when it does. One of the worst things about it is when you have it you become intensely aware of how much of a whiney twat you must sound like to everyone else and how much it brings down the moods of those around you also. It's difficult also to often know why it occurs, whether it's just a build up of stress and minor annoyances swallowed back and bottled up so long it just boils over into a brief meltdown until enough pressure is released to put the lid back on, or whether it's the effect of repressing those bad times in life for so long that you almost forget them, then remember them all suddenly and find it difficult to forget. Sometimes, it's just like feeling bad when you have no real reason to. Either way the problem itself causes an almost complete psychological inability to feel happy despite all things that would normally make you happy or cheer you up. It's not because you don't want to feel happy, you just simply can't.
Sometimes, when this happens, you get the feeling like you want to be alone, like all the attentions and affections of friends are too overbearing, but then when you are alone all the bad feelings are intensified because there's nothing there to distract you from feeling that way. Personally, I often seek solace simply because I can't stand to bring down the people around me. Much as they may say it's ok, they don't mind, they'd rather help, and much as I may believe that also, it's just that bit more crushing to know how you feel is making others feel worse when you are so completely powerless to change it. But anyway, enough rambling on that, let's cover some lost time instead. But maybe this will help explain some of the things that follow, I'm not sure, I can't say I'm entirely thinking straight today so I apologise for any resulting sporadic subject changes.
I left off the day before I was to say the final goodbye to my most beloved pet of, well, all my life. I drove to Blandford almost automatically, but was running late by the time I got to the meeting place. Mum wasn't annoyed though, she understood and I had let her know the roads were a nightmare getting down so that was one bit I could relax about. We talked in the car nearly all the way to Gillingham.
When we arrived I just wanted to see Tosca, to know how bad she really was and if we were making the best decision. I'd seen her going downhill over the last year but from what I'd heard over the last 2 days the steady descent had hit a sudden sharp decline. I saw her wandering in to the kitchen, she was wobbling on her back legs, looking more untidy than ever (which is a big thing with cats, you always know they're seriously ill when they stop washing and get tangled fur) and though she happily tucked in to her dinner of raw liver which she'd been having all week there was something wrong, she kept looking a little confused. I sat down and had a cup of tea to talk to mum and my stepdad, Dave, and the cat wandered off upstairs to sleep. Her bed had been taken down as we didn't expect her to go back up but she was happy to lay on the carpet in her usual place under the radiator even without the soft comfort of the folded up old dog pillow.
I've had a run of abysmal luck, and to be honest it has begun to affect me in odd moments of depressive relapse. See, depression isn't something you can ever truly get rid of, only stave it off for as long as you can before it comes back then try to fight it back again when it does. One of the worst things about it is when you have it you become intensely aware of how much of a whiney twat you must sound like to everyone else and how much it brings down the moods of those around you also. It's difficult also to often know why it occurs, whether it's just a build up of stress and minor annoyances swallowed back and bottled up so long it just boils over into a brief meltdown until enough pressure is released to put the lid back on, or whether it's the effect of repressing those bad times in life for so long that you almost forget them, then remember them all suddenly and find it difficult to forget. Sometimes, it's just like feeling bad when you have no real reason to. Either way the problem itself causes an almost complete psychological inability to feel happy despite all things that would normally make you happy or cheer you up. It's not because you don't want to feel happy, you just simply can't.
Sometimes, when this happens, you get the feeling like you want to be alone, like all the attentions and affections of friends are too overbearing, but then when you are alone all the bad feelings are intensified because there's nothing there to distract you from feeling that way. Personally, I often seek solace simply because I can't stand to bring down the people around me. Much as they may say it's ok, they don't mind, they'd rather help, and much as I may believe that also, it's just that bit more crushing to know how you feel is making others feel worse when you are so completely powerless to change it. But anyway, enough rambling on that, let's cover some lost time instead. But maybe this will help explain some of the things that follow, I'm not sure, I can't say I'm entirely thinking straight today so I apologise for any resulting sporadic subject changes.
I left off the day before I was to say the final goodbye to my most beloved pet of, well, all my life. I drove to Blandford almost automatically, but was running late by the time I got to the meeting place. Mum wasn't annoyed though, she understood and I had let her know the roads were a nightmare getting down so that was one bit I could relax about. We talked in the car nearly all the way to Gillingham.
When we arrived I just wanted to see Tosca, to know how bad she really was and if we were making the best decision. I'd seen her going downhill over the last year but from what I'd heard over the last 2 days the steady descent had hit a sudden sharp decline. I saw her wandering in to the kitchen, she was wobbling on her back legs, looking more untidy than ever (which is a big thing with cats, you always know they're seriously ill when they stop washing and get tangled fur) and though she happily tucked in to her dinner of raw liver which she'd been having all week there was something wrong, she kept looking a little confused. I sat down and had a cup of tea to talk to mum and my stepdad, Dave, and the cat wandered off upstairs to sleep. Her bed had been taken down as we didn't expect her to go back up but she was happy to lay on the carpet in her usual place under the radiator even without the soft comfort of the folded up old dog pillow.
I spent a good deal of time up there with her, talking to her, stroking her, listening to her sweet purr and thinking about all the times we'd spent together. Mum came upstairs after a while and we went to look at some old photos while she rested, the time ever counting down to the dreaded hour. She opened a box of jumbled photos and the first one we found was this one. It was like it was just meant to be.
Shortly after we found a few more lurking around. The first 2 were from when we'd just brought her home, I was 4 years old. She saw me through everything in my life, the good times and the bad, and was the only one who ever truly loved me for exactly who I was. Whenever I was ill she'd spend the whole day curled up with me, whenever I felt sad she'd come to me with a purr and her signature headbutting kiss to the nose. We understood each other on a level so pure I don't think I'll ever have a connection like that with anyone or anything else. It was something completely different.
Seeing her as she was though, it was difficult to think of her the same. She was confused, she would get up for a drink, have a few sips, then move to curl up again but then look baffled and turn around to drink more, then decide to lay down again. It was painful to watch just how bad she was but comforting to know it had only happened over the last 2 days and that she was still purring and able to be happy to see me still. I took some video of her, realising I didn't have any and knowing I'd want to keep some memory of her.
When the dreaded hour came we had our one final cuddle and I eased her into the box on a blanket. she was confused and unhappy and it was the hardest thing ever to take her in the car on my lap, hearing her meowing in protest to the movement and knowing where we had to go. Knowing it was the right thing to do doesn't make it any easier. I cried an awful lot that day, but she died looking at me with my hand stroking her as the injection too effect and she slowly eased down for that last sleep. I guess in some ways it was easier knowing that I'd done it before for another of my beloved pets many a year ago and had seen the process also while doing work experience in a vet. It was disappointing that the vet hadn't been briefed and happily asked us what he could do for her when we came in but I guess in a busy clinic not all notes are passed on. It would have been easier if he had seen her before too but I guess that's how it goes. I made one request, for a clipping of her fur, and agreed with mum that she would be cremated seperately so I could have her ashes when they came back. That night I went back to Dan's in Blandford, and he somehow manaed to console me and make me feel better.
There were other photos we came across in those boxes though, ones I havent uploaded. Again from when I was very young, there was one of myself and my half brother Ali, my dad's son, who died a few years ago in circumstances that were never made clear to me. Also we found a picture of my gramp, who died when I was about 7, holding me when I was just a baby. When I was alone again it brought home some more of those feelings of loss and confusion, and the bad feeling of never bein told what went on. I'd always been left to assume gramp died of kidney failure, because he'd already had one of them removed and nobody told me otherwise, but it wasn't so long ago that someone told me he actually had heart disease and died of a heart attack in his sleep. As for Ali, well if anyone knows what really happened they never told me. He was hit by a train, but it's the circumstances that are unclear. I hadn't seen or heard from him in years, not since he'd left dad's after many a row and gone to live with his mum instead. Turned out he was living in a tent in her garden and was involved in drugs somehow. No idea on specifics, like what it was or if he just used them or did more than that, because nobody thought it important to tell me. But it leaves open the question how did it happen, his friends seemed to think it sudden and there's always questions when drus are involved as to whether it was an accident or suicide or if it was just meant to look that way. His uncle, Ian, who I'd seen a fair few times in my childhood when he lived in Poole and we visited them, told my mum at the time he'd be in touch if he found any more details, but she never heard anything back from him. I'm assuming if dad knew anything it would quite probably be too hard for him to bring it up now. But there it is, the persistence of loss affecting my mind.
The few weeks between then and now have been relatively uneventful, so I'll try to be brief about the few occurences of mild interest. One Saturday, Wez was leaving for Uni and having one last night out at the club, and on the same night April was having a birthday do at the pub. We went to the pub first to wish her well and made arrangements to go to the club with Zac and Emski after. It was an anything goes fancy dress night with the annual awards going out at midnight (best theme attendance, best dancer, most loyal customer etc). I went in my bo peep outfit as I assumed Wez would use the excuse to go as a sheep. The others with me didn't bother really, Dan wasn't interested in it much and had to work the next day and the other 2 didn't care. It was a shame, it can be fun to go all out for these.
We got there, and Wez had gone all out as supersheep of Worms fame, but nobody else had really bothered much. Unfortunately the night didn't go well for me. I'd had one pint at the pub, but didn't have any money for more so had mostly sobered while getting to the club. The slow sobering while awake tends to make me feel a bit down anyway.I'd hoped Dan would take the hint and remember his offer to buy me a couple while we were there but he returned from the bar with a pint for himself, and we all just sat in the corner. The music wasn't catching me that night, the mix was a bit rubbish, so we were talking. Dan fell asleep on me and I slowly realised I just wasn't talking to anyone and was staring at the ceiling instead. I got given a free drink ticket at one point so I went for a shot of chilled Jager hoping it would perk me up a little but it really didn't.
The whole time we were there I knew Dan just wanted to be home sleeping but had come along for my sake so I could say goodbye to Wez before he left for Uni land. Zac and Emski kept dropping not to subtle hints too - "we're fine to leave whenever, if you want to go early just let us know". I was interested in seeing who won the awards, because I figured one of my mates had to get one for something, so I wanted to wait until midnight when they said they'd do them. Instead I felt so pressured by everyone and with then sobering up from the Jager the depression really started to set in. It wasn't helped by the fact I still felt guilty for accidentally elbowing Dan in the nose a few days previous which had made it a bit uncomfortable for him, but then while he was sleeping on me Chrispy thought it funny to shove a strip of cigarette filters up his nose waking him up annoyed and in pain. At that point I just wanted out so I went outside and stood out there until I felt too cold and had to come back in.
I didn't want to be stuck around feeling bad about bringing everyone down, and not even having fun, while constantly being reminded that everyone I was with wanted to leave and were pushing me towards it further and further. By 11:50pm I got pissed off, I'd had enough of the unsubtle hinting and constant feeling like crap, it was obvious there was no longer any point me being there even as a token gesture so I just said fine fuck it you all want to leave so badly let's just go there's no point staying any more anyway. I'd been in and outside anyway trying to be alone but a couple of times people just happened to find me there and said they wouldn't leave until I told them what's wrong so I just walked away from them. I feel bad for that, it was not the kindest choice, but I couldn't take their company and didn't want to lash out at them. I'd asked them nicely to go, and it seemed the better option to just leave myself and get away.
I made arrangements to see Wez on the Thursday before he left in Blannie, and we ended up spending the day together there just wandering about, hanging out, talking and the like, and playing hangman in the pub over a couple pints of coke. That was a much better way to say farewell, and I apologised for being that way on the saturday but I realise now I was just trying to do too much when it would have been good enough to just say no and stay home.
Another week I've missed in this blog was when Dan's mum went on holiday for a week, leaving us to look after the house and cat. I brought over my PS3 and we set it up downstairs so I'd have something to do while he was at work in the day some days. It seemed pointless me going home in the day when there was a free house and I would only be doing the same thing there. one night I cooked us both lamb steak with veg and mash, which was nice because I hadn't cooked for him before and he liked it.
Another day that week he made plans to go to "camera club". I had no idea what this was only that he'd been before a long time ago (when he still had long hair) and had one of his photos in a book, I think it was this one or something similar.
Anywho, he'd arranged to go there, I was feeling a bit out of sorts and he didn't really explain what it was or what to expect, just that it doesn't happen often and that he'd been asked to go there by the one whose book he was in. His sister was supposed to be there with the kids too, but that's all I knew. We had to get a taxi to some local village town hall, and we turned up to see a line of people with cameras sitting down, and someone taking photos of Dan's sister while her boyfriend and the kids were sat over in the corner. We went to join them and I ended up with one of the kids sat on my lap while they waited. The kids went up for photos next, together and individually, and it seemed that photographers were choosing who they wanted to get pictures of and taking a few different shots of them. One thing I forgot to mention was I didn't have anything smart to wear, and wasn't expecting it, so was ready to go in denim skirt and a tshirt when Dan suggested I change. I ended up in my jeans and one of his smart shirts. I didn't feel myself and was already feeling down and more than a bit self conscious but he was insistent we had a nice photo together so I thought well what's the harm in that.
When the kids had had a load of photos we were the only ones left really so Dan went over and they sat us down together. It seemed like nobody was interested in taking any photos and I was exceptionally uncomfortable faking a smile in an uncomfortable chair feeling so intensely self conscious. I'm not confident, and I don't like the way I look, it wasn't the way I'd normally plan an evening but I was there for him. When a few snaps had been taken of us together I got up and Dan had a lot of solo shots taken by several photographers requesting him. I was stood at the side watching, holding his glasses or coat when needed, and all the while feeling so insignificant next to him. I'm not complaining really, it's something I've come to accept that when I'm with him I'll always be standin in the shadow of his confidence, his charm, and his popularity. I'm just not that person, and trying to be would be lying to myself. Of course, I try to be confident, I strive to improve myself and make more friends and the like but I'll never be at his level. It's just not who I am. I'm a doormat, submissive and happy letting people make the decisions most of the time. I get walked over a lot...
Anyway, not much else exciting has happened other than the aforementioned. I finally got an interview for a job, and didn't get it. The unemployment factor is starting to really get to me now. I am penniless and feel useless, always having to rely on someone else to pay if I want to do anything interesting with them. At first, it seemed ok, I didn't think it would be for long so it was like a holiday from the constant working previous and with the rest of my life upside down it was do-able. Then I had the enthusiastic prospects of university, which fell through like most of my other dreams. Then came the prospect of the job I went for the interview for. Youth work in Bournemouth, finally doing something useful, starting on the right path, but there were 9 jobs going and 35 of us in interview. Everyone else was either working in youth work already or had a degree, it's amazing I got that far really from the 80 people that applied but I was still bitterly disappointed by the rejection letter. Now I'm back to applying for shitty unfulfilling jobs in retail because I have all my experience there, and still despite the many years experience, good qualifications, etc etc, I still don't even get any rejection letters let alone interviews. It's ridiculous and depressing. It's no wonder I'm feeling dragged back down in to it now.
The only thing that makes me feel better really is being with Dan, knowing I have that one bit of security and certainty in my life. I care about my friends dearly and they do cheer me up sometimes but most of them feel so far away now, I miss them. But you know even though there is that best part of my life I am still constantly terrified I'll fuck up somehow, in fact I was convinced I had in those 2 days, the camera club thing and that night at Sound Circus, I felt like I'd really messed up. I keep thinking I mess up all the time over stupid little things, maybe I'm just that scared of losing something so good and precious to me, but I can't even bring myself to tell him how I really feel because of the fear of rejection and humiliation recently instilled into me by certain events. I know it's completely illogical to be like that but since when have emotions had any kind of logic to them?
Anyway, there is one more thing to mention before I go. Staring right in the face of death, that ever persistant loss strikes once more. I came home the other morning to find Dad pulling at the arm of the sofa the way he does when he's stressed about something, and soon after he told me Carrie, one of our cats, had been run over by a car some time in the late night or early morning. He'd had the knock on the door in the morning and had just finished burying her in the corner of the garden not long before I came in. He'd had her for about 12 or more years, and was very close to her. I was too of course though probably not as much as he was. We got a little upset together and I made us both a cup of tea. He later went out sailing, sometimes you just have to carry on as usual. The cat, Carrie, we'd had from a kitten with her brother Barry. The 2 of them always used to sleep together, curled up paws wrapped around each other all snuggled up. They were incredibly close. The other cat, Zoe, wasn't as bothered because we'd got her later (and her brother Jerry who had to be rehomed a few years ago because he was too antisocial with the other cats) . But then, when we first moved here, when she came out of the box Zoe was a bit scared, and mewed a bit. When she went to Carrie, she washed her head in a very motherly way which nobody very expected from those 2. Zoe pined a bit that morning, sitting by the window mewing. Barry spent the whole day laying next to me on the bed, and for once not being a complete nuisance clawing at the keyboard or sitting on things I was using. You can say animals are stupid but you're wrong, they're far too intelligent, they just want you to keep thinking they don't know anything so they can bend you to what they want. When I went to Dan's that night, his cat Tigger mewed at his door at night and spent the entire night asleep on my chest. She kept waking me up by kissing and rubbing around my face then settling down again but I think it was her way of letting me know she was still there. Dan tried to put his arm around me while half asleep too but Tigger bit it as if to say "no, not tonight, that's where I'm laying". She was with us all last night too, which was the second night since it happened. Now I'm at home and it feels that bit emptier, haven't seen Barry all day but I'm in tonight so hopefully will cuddle him more then. He'll be lonely as he realises she's gone.
So where are we today? I'm sat here wondering when I should get up and get lunch, Dan's coming here tonight to stay because he has tomorrow off and finishes early enough today to get the bus here. I'm probably going to just play Fallout 3 for a while, tidy up a bit and wait for him to arrive. Dad's home because he was ill yesterday, though he seems to be feeling a bit better as he just swapped over the broken dishwasher for the on in the garage and is presumably fixing it up now before doing some other job around the house. I guess I should just carry on as usual, wasting my life with no other option but to sit here and try to stay entertained.
~~~~~~~ Thoughts of the weeks... ~~~~~~~
With the persistance of loss forcing me to stare in the face of death, I begin to see the frailty of my own life and the futility of perservering weighs heavily on my mind with only one who can help ease the burden with something as simple as a smile. But then, sometimes, my worst enemy is the return of my memories. If only I could forget all that came before, all that shaped me into this disfigured fool staring into a carnival mirror trying to make sense of the world.
When the kids had had a load of photos we were the only ones left really so Dan went over and they sat us down together. It seemed like nobody was interested in taking any photos and I was exceptionally uncomfortable faking a smile in an uncomfortable chair feeling so intensely self conscious. I'm not confident, and I don't like the way I look, it wasn't the way I'd normally plan an evening but I was there for him. When a few snaps had been taken of us together I got up and Dan had a lot of solo shots taken by several photographers requesting him. I was stood at the side watching, holding his glasses or coat when needed, and all the while feeling so insignificant next to him. I'm not complaining really, it's something I've come to accept that when I'm with him I'll always be standin in the shadow of his confidence, his charm, and his popularity. I'm just not that person, and trying to be would be lying to myself. Of course, I try to be confident, I strive to improve myself and make more friends and the like but I'll never be at his level. It's just not who I am. I'm a doormat, submissive and happy letting people make the decisions most of the time. I get walked over a lot...
Anyway, not much else exciting has happened other than the aforementioned. I finally got an interview for a job, and didn't get it. The unemployment factor is starting to really get to me now. I am penniless and feel useless, always having to rely on someone else to pay if I want to do anything interesting with them. At first, it seemed ok, I didn't think it would be for long so it was like a holiday from the constant working previous and with the rest of my life upside down it was do-able. Then I had the enthusiastic prospects of university, which fell through like most of my other dreams. Then came the prospect of the job I went for the interview for. Youth work in Bournemouth, finally doing something useful, starting on the right path, but there were 9 jobs going and 35 of us in interview. Everyone else was either working in youth work already or had a degree, it's amazing I got that far really from the 80 people that applied but I was still bitterly disappointed by the rejection letter. Now I'm back to applying for shitty unfulfilling jobs in retail because I have all my experience there, and still despite the many years experience, good qualifications, etc etc, I still don't even get any rejection letters let alone interviews. It's ridiculous and depressing. It's no wonder I'm feeling dragged back down in to it now.
The only thing that makes me feel better really is being with Dan, knowing I have that one bit of security and certainty in my life. I care about my friends dearly and they do cheer me up sometimes but most of them feel so far away now, I miss them. But you know even though there is that best part of my life I am still constantly terrified I'll fuck up somehow, in fact I was convinced I had in those 2 days, the camera club thing and that night at Sound Circus, I felt like I'd really messed up. I keep thinking I mess up all the time over stupid little things, maybe I'm just that scared of losing something so good and precious to me, but I can't even bring myself to tell him how I really feel because of the fear of rejection and humiliation recently instilled into me by certain events. I know it's completely illogical to be like that but since when have emotions had any kind of logic to them?
Anyway, there is one more thing to mention before I go. Staring right in the face of death, that ever persistant loss strikes once more. I came home the other morning to find Dad pulling at the arm of the sofa the way he does when he's stressed about something, and soon after he told me Carrie, one of our cats, had been run over by a car some time in the late night or early morning. He'd had the knock on the door in the morning and had just finished burying her in the corner of the garden not long before I came in. He'd had her for about 12 or more years, and was very close to her. I was too of course though probably not as much as he was. We got a little upset together and I made us both a cup of tea. He later went out sailing, sometimes you just have to carry on as usual. The cat, Carrie, we'd had from a kitten with her brother Barry. The 2 of them always used to sleep together, curled up paws wrapped around each other all snuggled up. They were incredibly close. The other cat, Zoe, wasn't as bothered because we'd got her later (and her brother Jerry who had to be rehomed a few years ago because he was too antisocial with the other cats) . But then, when we first moved here, when she came out of the box Zoe was a bit scared, and mewed a bit. When she went to Carrie, she washed her head in a very motherly way which nobody very expected from those 2. Zoe pined a bit that morning, sitting by the window mewing. Barry spent the whole day laying next to me on the bed, and for once not being a complete nuisance clawing at the keyboard or sitting on things I was using. You can say animals are stupid but you're wrong, they're far too intelligent, they just want you to keep thinking they don't know anything so they can bend you to what they want. When I went to Dan's that night, his cat Tigger mewed at his door at night and spent the entire night asleep on my chest. She kept waking me up by kissing and rubbing around my face then settling down again but I think it was her way of letting me know she was still there. Dan tried to put his arm around me while half asleep too but Tigger bit it as if to say "no, not tonight, that's where I'm laying". She was with us all last night too, which was the second night since it happened. Now I'm at home and it feels that bit emptier, haven't seen Barry all day but I'm in tonight so hopefully will cuddle him more then. He'll be lonely as he realises she's gone.
So where are we today? I'm sat here wondering when I should get up and get lunch, Dan's coming here tonight to stay because he has tomorrow off and finishes early enough today to get the bus here. I'm probably going to just play Fallout 3 for a while, tidy up a bit and wait for him to arrive. Dad's home because he was ill yesterday, though he seems to be feeling a bit better as he just swapped over the broken dishwasher for the on in the garage and is presumably fixing it up now before doing some other job around the house. I guess I should just carry on as usual, wasting my life with no other option but to sit here and try to stay entertained.
~~~~~~~ Thoughts of the weeks... ~~~~~~~
With the persistance of loss forcing me to stare in the face of death, I begin to see the frailty of my own life and the futility of perservering weighs heavily on my mind with only one who can help ease the burden with something as simple as a smile. But then, sometimes, my worst enemy is the return of my memories. If only I could forget all that came before, all that shaped me into this disfigured fool staring into a carnival mirror trying to make sense of the world.
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