BrainVomit - Neverending Nightmares...

Last night I had more nightmares, and try as I might I couldn't wake up. One part etched firmly in my tired and aching brain is where I had a cut on my lower leg, going all the way around. It looked like barely a scratch but then suddenly I couldn't walk and the whole thing was practically cut off and bleeding everywhere. I actually felt the pain and desperately in my sleep tried to push it back together and keep walking. That image and that fear hasn't left me all day. The weirder thing is that somewhere in the dream I was the one cutting my own flesh. Deeply disturbing when these dreams are so vivid, so real...oh well...

Most of work was spent handing out vouchers at the door, sounds simple and it is but in other ways it's completely soul destroying. Saying the same thing over and over makes you feel like a broken record player and for every person who thanks you and smiles there are three more who knock you down with ignorance, the disapproving headshake or the sad look that says "I know your smile is fake, and so is mine, we both know it but rather than making your job easier I'm going to walk as far away from you as possible and try to make it look natural". That being said I do still like my job when it's just the usual, and will plough through as much of tomorrow's 10hour shift of taking in stock from the delivery as best as I can while attempting to ignore the virus that is making me feel like there's someone constantly stood on my chest laughing in my face with halitosis.

Of course, I'd like to remain positive, but the only thing that got me through the hours standing in the cold repeating myself to people who either didn't care or insisted on getting far too close to popping my personal bubble, was the llama song playing on repeat in my head... "here's a llama there's a llama there's another little llama fuzzy llama funny llama, llama llama duck...."

Been listening randomly to Dream Theater more recently. Very impressed by the song Panic Attack which is scarily and yet brilliantly accurate. The rest of the week should go quickly, with Dan here friday on my day off then a weekend of work. Next week I have the first three days off but then I'm working solid until xmas eve. Ho hum. All my shopping will have to be done in that one day, but at least all the plans for the day are sorted. Start out with dan's family, go to my mum's for a while, then back to poole to see my dad in the evening. Covering all bases in one short day, I'm hoping to see all my friends in the pub xmas eve, huzzah! The only one's I won't see then I shall hopefully be seeing them all in January, which is most excellent because I miss them loads and love them dearly. This time I will make up for my previous...instabilities...in our last meetings. I no longer have to worry about a member of the group who was, in short and as polite as I can manage, a twat, and will be able to relax a lot more away from crowds of people. Which brings me neatly back to the beginning of this paragraph where I would like to advise anyone who hasn't heard the song to listen to it, because it holds a great insight into the feelings one goes through in a panic attack.

I'm off to go get some custard, fatty wants comfort food...I kid you not, I have put on weight unfortunately. Downside - favourite jeans now have muffintop syndrome. Upside - boobs got a tiny bit bigger. Downside - sodding bras don't fit right anymore and I seem to be having trouble with TMIS - too much information syndrome.
Jenivere Out.

BrainVomit - Red Bus Syndrome, and Honesty at its most Brutal...

12/11/09

So another period of time has passed where I once again have failed to keep up. It's not surprising really, one has to be in the mood to write, and well I've never been great at sticking to things anyway. The fact my blog has continued thus far is a small miracle of its own. Anyway, on to the tedious mental excrement of the week...

The last time I wrote was before I went to the doctor. Well, I went. I talked, felt only half listened to, and was given anti-depressants and a phone number to book my own counselling. I've since lost the number but have been taking the pills. The main side effect is drowsiness. I felt the worst of it in the first few days, where after taking one at night as directed I slept for 11hours and woke up feeling tired, and spent a further 4-5hours drifting in and out of sleep. Not good. Thankfully I seem to be evening out a little on this but still feel (and apparently look) exhausted a lot of the time.

That night was planned as a gaming night for 3 of us, but Chrispy couldn't make it so it was just me and Dan again. Nevermind, we had a few fun games and I fell asleep early because the pills had made me so tired I couldn't keep my eyes open.

Since then, Dan's had some time off work for a week so we've been spending most of that together, mostly here. I had an interview last Friday and got a call Monday morning when I was with Dan to say I got the job. Huzzah! I now have a job, about an hour and a half travel away from home, 20hours a week, minimum wage...well, it's a start. To celebrate, we went to town and Dan bought me lunch out in a lovely pub/restaurant. Good meals and in great portions, and the prices were pretty awesome too. £6.95 for 2 meals (we chose lasagne), £1 for tea or coffee, and buy one get one free on puddings at £3.95 each. Apple crumble and custard, absolutely brilliantly tasty, a real treat. We spent a bit of time in town and headed back to Blandford for the evening.

We planned to go to the pub for further celebration, and ended up there with just us 2 and Zack. It was nice when we arrived early, nobody was there and we could sit in the corner and chat, catching up and talking about the usual crap we do down pub. Then, an hour later, the regulars arrived. The reason most of our friends don't often go down there any more... Some of them are ok, when they're not with others, but some of the girls, and yes it's ALL women here surprise surprise, have been known to almost constantly bitch about people who aren't there behind their backs. I just don't take kindly to that. You have a problem with someone take it to their face. Surely you can think of something better to talk about?! Hmm, maybe not then....

8/12/09

Alright so I'm picking up this half finished blog nearly a month later. It has been busy, since securing my new job I've been spending most days working, and of those days I spend 3 hours on buses travelling just to get there and back. The jobcentre gave me a grant to cover the first month ticket though so it's not too bad for now, and only £60 per month after that for unlimited buses in Poole/Bournemouth, fabulous, and I might even consider paying another £40 to cover going to Blandford or other places too, not sure about that yet as it may be cheaper to just pay when I'm actually going there which at the moment doesn't look like it'll be too often. I'm working all weekends in December. Good, because I'm doing well over my contracted hours and will therefore earn more monies, but bad because I won't be able to go out as much and might miss out on seeing Dan a lot as our shift schedules won't always match.

It could be a blessing in disguise though given the escalating bitchiness at the pub. Yes, more, and unprovoked as always. See, the other night we went out for the first time in a while, we arranged to meet a good few friends up pub for a couple of drinks and a lot of laughs. It was great for a few hours, we were all talking, we played a couple games of pool and everyone was just relaxed and enjoying themselves. Then we got word that they were on their way, those known now as the trio, who when on their own can sometimes be quite likeable but when together only seem to cause aggro, piss people off, and talk about others behind their backs. This is not the sort of person that I like. They came in with their trophy boyfriends, and sat on a seat near to us as there wasn't room for them all to join at the corner table. Before they came everyone expressed dislike, and said how they wish they didn't go there any more, but nobody actually ever says anything to them. If we all stood up and said we're fed up of their shit they'd have no choice but to fuck right off or stay there and be shunned. As it was most of us ignored them, despite the fact I am sure they count us all among their friends. It's not mutual, because once upon a time with no provocation they suddenly had a problem with me. I've never had anything against them, until the day they turned on me. They don't even know me, and have no reason to dislike me that I know of mainly because we've barely spoken. Since then further actions have affirmed my stance against them but like the good little doormat I am I just sit back and take it with a smile just to keep the peace.

I amaze myself for being so spineless to sit back when one of them in particular goes out of her way to be a complete and utter bitch. Am I exaggerating? Maybe, but judge for yourself. Dan and I were playing a long doubles game of pool against another couple, and for some reason "she" saw fit to interfere. It was a really tense and competitive but good humoured game, but she butted in and took a shot for them when not invited to do so and later decided to get up and pick up on of their balls dropping it in the pocket and moving several others when she did so. I should have relocated my cue somewhere uncomfortable but instead I grumbled and replaced the balls that I could for Dan to take his shot. Later in the night Dan and I were stood under the doorway to keep out of the pouring rain while we waited for the taxi he had called to take us home. They came to leave and "she", rather than asking, physically pushed him out of the way and into the rain. The one who had left a minute ahead of her had asked and he had stepped aside, but manners obviously mean nothing to the worst of the gang. I don't know what grudge she bears against Dan but she makes sure enough to show it when she can. I'm sick of it, so next time she or any of them do or say anything I'm biting back, in the full knowledge that pretty much everyone else will agree and nobody will back their corner.

Other things have been going equally dismally for me at the moment. I went back to the doctor after coming to the end of my first prescription for antidepressants and saw a different guy this time but spoke of the nightmares I've been having since a couple of weeks of starting treatment. He advised perservering with them, and prescribed double the dose. I've had 4 days of these and the nightmares are worse. Sometimes they aren't even nightmares just extremely vivid dreams, the kind where you can feel the pain of whatever happens in it. Some of the nightmares are fantasy, some are repetitions of reality, flashbacks forcing me to relive moments of my life I'd rather forget, some of them are simply twisted apparitions born of my own subconscious hopes and fears. When I was on the lower dose I would come to the point of waking sometimes as frequent as every 10minutes for a few hours, slipping in and out of terrifying dreams, but these few days on the higher dose seem to be enforcing a deeper sleep, the nightmares cycle on and yet I can't wake up and escape them. I wake up feeling like I've barely slept much at all and with the images of the night burned into my brain as real as if they'd happened mere hours ago in real life. Sometimes when waking it is hard to distinguish that it was a dream for those first few dozy minutes. And this is supposed to help? Yes, I have had less panic attacks, yes I am going to sleep easier, yes I have had *some* small improvement in mood, but I'm still getting some of the mood swings and am becoming more than a little paranoid about sleeping. I'll keep going for now, and eventually pluck up the stomach to call the number I was given to arrange counselling. The scars of the past are etched deep in my heart, sins that can never be forgiven remain unforgotten poisoning my mind, colouring my life black with unspoken pain.

~~~~~~~ Honesty, Brutal and Cold.~~~~~~~

Well now is the time to drop the candour from my words and give up on hiding the things that trouble me. I will not reveal my past but I will describe the present bluntly, how it is. You see, not everything is as it seems. Though I am happy with my relationship with Dan there are things around it that makeit particularly stressful. Reader, if you know us well please use discretion about reading on for what I speak is not truly mine to divulge but something I wish I could change.

Every time I stay at his house, it becomes ever more clear. He has spoken to me before of the problems certain people have with alcohol and it has now got to the stage where I can tell. When your family and those close to you can tell you have been drinking when you try to hide it from them you should not be surprised, but when a relative stranger notices it's a more serious problem. But then people under the spell of the addictive liquors never seem to realise the harm it does to those around them, even if it is as simple as serious concern for their own health and wellbeing, once before damaged by drink to the very brink of termination it's strange to us outside that all warnings would remain unheeded despite having seen first hand the true consequences in others. Every time I go there I can't relax, even when sober there is always somewhere a reason to disrupt, further put to detriment by Dan's own ways. I'm sure it's not intentional but he does have a way of making problems where there are none, or getting people involved when it is not needed which can cause further friction between them. It is difficult, and I am far happier here at home where I know my father does not feel the need to intrude and is also very pleasant to spend time with without feeling awkward.

There are a lot of times where I've wished for life to become like a fairytale, to be taken away by some handsome knight who would banish all my troubles for that happily ever after we used to hear about at bedtime. Unfortunately, that is not the case. Every knight I have come across has either been a dragon in disguise or simply had tarnished armour or a kingdom falling to ruin around them. There's no such thing as fairy godmothers and wishes turn to ashes before our eyes every day. The best I can dream of somehow is a tragedy, I actually secretly wish nothing more than a beautiful death and a lover to mourn my passing. But then, in dying, I wouldn't know - so what's the point?

There's no such thing as heroes, they're all too busy battling their own demons. There are no knights in shining armour, only liars, cheats and thieves waiting to sweep you off your feet and tear out your heart for sport. Maybe a part of me still believes in love, beautiful head over heels romance overcoming any obstacles in its way....but what's the point believing if I can't even say it to his face? I am a coward wishing for the easy way because I'm too tired to fight the currents any more. Ultimately I shall drown never seeing the shore, abandoning the life raft because I'm too scared of picking up the oar to row. I will sink knowing I only ever relied on myself, that my own fears became the lead in my limbs, my own cowardice drove me to leave dry land too afraid to face the beasts in the woods.

I shouldn't be left alone with my thoughts like this. My mind is a prison, I am trapped in the cage shaped around me by the past, people and places that tore me down until I gave up fighting back. And now I see my cousin, starting to falter under depression, and there is little I can do to help him because he is a prisoner as much as I. I can but hope he is stronger than I am and have been, that he can push back his demons.

"I've seen angels fall from blinding heihts, but you yourself are nothing so divine, just next in line. Arm yourself because no one else here will save you."

I need to stop writing now, I fear I am actually losing my mind...

Until next time,
Jenivere out.