BrainVomit - Change of Luck, Dependance, and Radio Silence

Today my luck took an odd lot of shifting. I woke up to the phone ringing, and shortly after got the message saying I could go in or the scan today if I called them back to confirm. So I did so and got it booked for 1:45pm. They asked me to get there for between 1:15 and 1:30 so I had a relaxed morning, a long bath, and planned the bus I'd need to catch.

I walked down in time for the bus, but after 5minutes it hadn't arrived. I guessed it had gone by early and figured I'd still have time to get the next one as they come at 10minute intervals anyway. The time for the next bus came, and went by again, when it was 5mins late for that one I was at panic stage - if I missed the scan appointment there'd be a long wait for the next one and I'd be wasting time someone else could have needed. Luckily, a different bus came by and I got to town centre just in time to hop on the next bus to the hospital. I wasoriginally going to walk to save money but I bought a return ticket because quite frankly walking is still rather uncomfortable.

I got there in time, and after checking in at the dest I was sat waiting for about 25minutes before I was wheeled down to the right department. I could have walked but I guess it was easier that way and I didn't have to figure out directions for myself. They dropped me off and I was shown to a cubicle to go for the old gown combo. Another 30mins of waiting and they had the paperwork they were waiting for and I went in for the scan. It was an ultrasound across the veins to locate any potential clots in there. Thankfully they found none and after changing back and another wait I was wheeled back upstairs. Another while of waiting and I was seen by the DVT doc who reaffirmed the scan showed all clear and that I was free to go but had no insight as to what was causing the continued pain. The only advice I was given was go home and if it continues go back to the GP again. Great. So it's probably another "stress related" thing, known as an act of god in some circles, or in others simply one of the world's more annoying mysteries.

So that's it, there's no big problem but it's still intensely painful to walk anywhere and by the end of the day I can't even wiggle my toes without pain shooting through the muscle. Fantastic. I would probably be more relaxed if they'd found a clot because at least then it could be treated, get better, and I wouldn't look/feel like a hypochondriac lunatic.

The other thing getting to me today is that I miss Dan. It's not just that I miss him so much as right now I really want to hear from him. It's crazy, I'm not normally this dependant, but there's been so much stress over the past couple of days...and though I now don't have to worry about any more painful jabs or trips to the hosp I'm feeling lower than ever. Sometimes I feel like I want nothing more than to talk to friends, be around them, stuf like that, but I don't want to be moaning about problems or focussing on them. I used to be that whiney depressed one in the corner and I feel like I'm going that way again which is not what I want. At least here it's easier to sit in the background without dragging anyone else down with me.

I wish I was tired enough to go to sleep so I could just wake up in a day or so time when I can see people again, I'm sick of being so lonely with nothing to do but fill in endless forms applying for soul-crushingly pointless jobs I'm overqualified for and looking at the empty space where not even rejection letters fall. It does have a funny way of making a person feel entirely useless when they don't even get a reply from a ridiculous shop job with training provided when they have a ton of experience in the role and plenty of good grades behind that too.

To pass the time I've been trying to make a level on LBP, building my own rocket powered rollercoaster. It's not as easy as I'd hoped, and the frustration is depressing me more. I'm tempted to just go for some Fallout 3 to kill time until I can sleep again but all I want is to hear from the person I care most about. He's probably run out of credit or gone to sleep after long day at work, so I'm not paranoid about it or anything silly like that, I just miss him now. I didn't realise how dependant I've become on his presence and words to lift my mood. Maybe it's not even so much dependance, as just how low I feel now I crave that which makes me happiest.

~~~~~~~Thought of the Day~~~~~~~

When did it happen? When did missing you turn from a distant apathy to a longing for just one more kiss, one moment in your arms... I'm holding my breath waiting or just one word, because tonight any word will do as long as it comes from you.

Jenivere Out

BrainVomit - Seriously? Anything Else Want to Fuck Up?!

So that leg cramp. I went to the doctors this morning and after a wait of about 40mins to be seen in "open surgery". One short appointment and long phone call later and he was sending me off to the hospital with a letter for a blood test for DVT. Dan was waiting outside for me, ready to catch the bus to town so he could get the next one to Blannie in time for his shift at work. He got me a return ticket and we parted at the station, leaving me a 15 minute slow shamble to the hospital.

I was there for about 45mins before I got the blood test, which was bad enough. I hate needles, never been good with them, and for the first time having this lot of blood taken made me hot, dizzy and sick. Not fun. After some further examination I was given some water and asked to come back in about an hour and a half for the results. Great, more walking with a painful leg. Fantastic.

Went slowly to town and wandered about, got lunch and sat for a while. Bumped into a couple of mates and talked a few mins before slowly ambling back to the hospital. Another 35 minute wit after the given time and I had results. The test was for the signs of possible deep vein thrombosis. Though they wouldn't give a full diagnosis, if negative it would rule out DVT as a possibility, meaning it is more likely a muscle pull or strain.

Well, tests came back positive. The next step is to confirm presence of a clot with a scan, which has been booked for Tuesday. Until then though, treatment starts immediately. They do this as a precaution, no clot no harm done but if there is one and it's left untreated there's a lot more risk if it moves to heart or lung. Not much choice really. Thing is the treatment at the start is daily injections at the hospital, just what a needle-phobic wants to hear.

Had the first one there and then. It has to go in the stomach for various reasons, and thankfully the jab itself I barely felt, but it was after it hurt like hell. See, the stuff they inject is fairly oily which causes a hot stinging burning sensation, like a nasty bee sting. Lasted a good couple hours, and I had to sit and drink water right after because I felt suddenly sick and dizzy again. Most likely stress but still not pleasant at all and I have this to look forward to daily until at least Tuesday, or longer if the scan shows a clot.

Of course all this is just adding to the stress and depression, along with news my stepdad's lung has reinflated but still leaking into his chest cavity. Hopefully should heal and be out by friday but it's still worrying. I'm just hitting a high on stress and a low on mood now, and dreading the next jab to the belly-flab. Maybe I'll just play lbp and fallout 3 until I fall asleep. :( not like this jobless loser has anything better to do with her time than waste it.

Jenivere Out.

BrainVomit - Bad Luck Becomes Ridiculous

When does luck stop becoming luck and turn in to a complete and utter joke? I'm wondering if I've inadvertantly pissed off a gypsy or accidentally done what Svetlana did in NightWatch and cursed myself. Woops. Goodness knows, but I'm getting a little sick of it now.

So not only have I lost 2 beloved pets in as many weeks, but I've had recurring and utterly splitting headaches that are just not affected by painkillers, sleep, drinking more or any of the traditional cures, I've had a cramp in my leg since yesterday which is making walking nigh on impossible because the pain gets so intense so quickly. Last night I had all the painkillers I could, rubbed some anti-inflammatory gel into it and still when I went to bed it was so painful I couldn't even literally pick my leg up and lift it without it hurting more. Because of that today has been largely wasted indoors on Little Big Planet because the idea of walking to and from the bus stop and sitting in a cinema for a couple of hours if it caused it to really flare up.

On top of this mum called this afternoon to say that my stepdad went in to hospital this morning with a collapsed lung from the lingering emphicema at the top of his chest. It's being drained and he should be out tomorrow all being well, but I'm still worried about mum knowing she's running to and from the hospital and trying to catch up on the work she's missed today at home. I've never really seen eye to eye with Dave either but I guess these days we get along well enough. It's just that one more bit of stress that I really don't need.

It seems like I should be happy with the other things around me but I'm continually becoming more and more dragged down by this re-occurence of depression . It's starting to make me moody and I don't like that at all. I don't even know what to write now, I'm sat next to Dan who's attempting to build a level on LBP. Maybe I should just help that effort instead. :s

BrainVomit - A Long Time, Relapse, and Staring Right In The Face Of It.

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 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.