Because…

…I am an idiot.

…I should listen to the doubts in my mind more often, they’re usually right.

…I’m fed up of constantly crying.

…I can’t keep dealing with this.

…I hate being me.

…I feel so desperately alone.

…someone keeps searching for really horrible things on here in an attempt to make me feel like shit – I may not know who you are, yet, but I will work it out, so grow up and fuck off. Believe me, you are nothing in comparison to the ‘real’ goings on in my life.

…actions should not be so far from intent. It’s not fair to pretend otherwise.

Don’t walk away when the heart is yearning

I have a tendency to fall in love with unattainable people. Probably due in part to the apparent self-fulfilling prophecy that I’m destined to be alone because no one can a) put up with my level of crazy and b) the majority of people seem to be selfish, heartless, egocentric bastards who only care about themselves. I’m not sure if b) should be taken as a positive sign which shows I’ve moved on from shouldering all blame when I get led on or let down, or if it’s an overwhelming sign of my cynicism and bitterness having ‘levelled up’.

Give me a line up of 100 people – make sure that 99.9% of them are lovely and genuine and honestly caring – and guaranteed I will select the one who is 0.1% of a git and I will bring out the absolute bastard side of them in under 2 months. It really is a skill.

Not all of them have been uncaring fuckwits, obviously. That would be REALLY bad luck/poor judgement. The one I regret ending more than any other, while somewhat unorthodox in some respects, was a beautiful thing. I’d just never dared to even hope that he actually cared about me, because he was everything I’d ever wanted. And I knew back then that I don’t get what I want. I suppose he’s the benchmark against which all other relationships have been measured, and which none have matched up to. Over 6 years on and I’ve accepted that it’s in the past and the chance I had has been and gone, but I still miss him as much as I did a split-second after the last time I saw him. It’s one of the very few relationships I hold dear in my memory and in my heart. The others have all been too full of lies, deceit and dishonesty. Of cheating and manipulation. Of abuse, both physical and mental.

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Or, what doesn’t kill you, more often than not makes you wish you were dead so the pain would go away, and leaves you an absolute mess that people either can’t deal with or can’t resist the temptation to exploit and break further.

I wish I could say that I will be a stronger person. That I will stop allowing myself to be used and broken down, while whomever is my ‘significant’ other takes everything I have, but it would be a lie. I can’t seem to change how I am in relationships. It’s just frustrating that at the start of this year, for the first time in my life, I was okay being single, and then I stupidly let someone in and they hurt me far more than I could have imagined, so now I’m even more bitter and mistrustful than I was (which didn’t seem possible), and, if I ever feel able to let anyone in again, that person will have yet another barrier to break down. Assuming, of course, that they don’t get bored, frustrated or infuriated by my self-sabotaging self-preservation behaviour patterns, or turn out to be a selfish, egotistical prick who was just looking for something to fill some time and boost their ego before they walk away and carry on with their life like nothing happened and they didn’t ruin an already weakened heart and psyche.

I think Crazy Cat Lady may be the safest only option. (Assuming I don’t do anything stupid in the interim period…)

Poets of the Fall – Carnival of Rust

Flu?

I started writing this on 14th March. Funny how things work out…

I’m not sure how this post will go. I have the flu, so it could go either way…

My brain ‘normally’ (expand the usual meanings of the word to encompass me, if you will) is full of negative thoughts, dangerous emotions, fears, worst-case scenarios, self-loathing, absolute adoration for others, dreams, hopes, darkness. When ill, these thoughts multiply. All of the negative thoughts attack me, like a constant assault. I get too afraid to be in my own head because it makes me feel so much worse.

I have moments where I am overcome with emotion because there are no words strong enough for me to tell the people I love what they mean to me, but I try. I will hunt down the people I’ve not told in too long just so they know I love them and I’m thinking of them, regardless of anything else. And I have moments where the most awful nagging one liners will eat away at me until I can think of nothing else, and end up in a ball of self-loathing, which whenever I try to externalise it, or let someone else in, has a tendency to blow up in my face.

I have always invested my all in just about everything I do – well, maybe not in work, but in relationships (friendships and those that are more than that), politics, raising awareness, etc. But something clicked in me today that now makes me wonder if I only have two settings – absolutely 1000000000% invested, or cut and run. I get so scared of my thought patterns scaring people off, and when they do I blame myself. Today, for the first time, possibly ever, while I experienced the huge amount of paralysing fear I always do while broaching a topic that has been eating away at me, all of a sudden there was a moment of absolute calm. Time slowed, I almost felt my mind expand, and I thought “maybe it’s just time to stop”. I don’t walk away from things. If anything I crawl away after I’ve been abandoned. I have to be able to say I gave something my best shot, even if it kills me. Which has almost been the case on a number of occasions. But to not know from one day to the next if I matter or not? I can’t cope with that. I can’t deal with feeling like I do matter when I’m with someone, to feeling like someone who’s just a blip on the radar when I’m not in the same room.

I know some of this is flu brain making a mess of things. And I know some of it is my being so used to being treated like shit. But when the way I’m treated switches so quickly, and when I can be treated with such coldness and formality by someone who is apparently aware of how my brain works, I can’t help but think maybe I’m setting myself up to get incredibly damaged again.

I stopped writing at this point, because it scared me so much that I thought I was going to have to walk away from this relationship. No, from that relationship, for the sake of my own health. It took four days, almost to the minute of my stopping typing, for him to break up with me.

The thing I’m struggling with. Well, things. Definitely plural. Are that I was contemplating ending it, but I can’t breathe. I feel sick constantly. I want him back more than anything. For the first time ever all I can remember are the good things, not the bad, and I feel so gutted that they were taken from me so quickly. I thought he was going to break up with me because he didn’t care about me at all. And while that would hurt, I could have dealt with that. I would have been so angry that it would have made it easier. It’s the fact that he developed feelings for me, and that’s why he’s run away. I wasn’t given a chance for him to face those fears and see if it actually wasn’t scary. I wasn’t given the chance to enjoy knowing that he does care. Did care. I don’t know what tense to use for this. If someone really cares, do they run away and leave you?

The most stupid thing is I’d pretty much managed to fool myself into believing I’d managed to control how I felt about him. But I hadn’t. I love him. I just hadn’t wanted to think it. And so the way I found out is by having my heart broken. I feel like I’ll never see him again. I feel completely on my own. Some people say they’re there for me, but then forget or find other things to do, others surprise me with how much they care.

Why now, when I’m getting over the flu, don’t have counselling for a fortnight, and am no longer on medication so I have nothing to numb the feelings, does this have to happen? I feel as though he’s gone forever. He told me I’ve helped him grow, that I’ve taught him things, that I’ve helped. But I feel like I’ve not gained anything. I feel so much weaker than I did before. I wasn’t looking for a relationship when this started out. I was actually ok on my own for once. And then I did the most stupid thing possible and let someone else in. I feel so broken. I don’t know if he does really care or if he just got scared. I don’t know if he’ll even think about me this time next week.

He told me not to disappear, but it’s all I want to do. I want to vanish. I want to stop existing. Gods, I want to die. I don’t want to hurt anyone but I seriously cannot cope with being alive right now. I’m not blaming this on him, I’ve felt like this in the back of mind for a while, but he was a reason not to think about it. Now it’s just everything piling on top of me and I feel so lost, and so little, and so desperately afraid. Maybe coming off medication was the worst thing I could do because maybe they’ve already fucked with me so much that I need them now. I don’t want to live. I don’t like this hurt. But I can’t abandon the people I love. I’m so torn. So lost. So helpless. So fucking stupid.

I don’t know what the fuck I’m meant to do.

30 Days of Truth #2: Love

Day 02 : Something you love about yourself.

So, I’ve been putting this off because it’s such a struggle for me to ever say anything positive about myself that isn’t sarcastic or about my eyes. But here goes…. And because the last one was a list of things I hate about me,  I shall try to do the same here, although I’m not holding my breath on that one…

I love my eyes. I love my tattoos. I love my mohawk.

I love that there is something about me that has caused some truly wonderful people (for whatever reason) to want to know me and be my friends. I love that people feel able to talk to me about their problems and worries. I love that even when I’m low, people tell me they love me and want me to be around them. I love my bum. I love that most people I know also love my bum!

I love how emotional I am, as well as hating it, because I experience things to a greater extreme than I would otherwise. I love that even though I’ve been hurt, I still wear my heart on my sleeve and enter into relationships believing that this time it will be different. I love that I have faith in people. I love that I care about people I’ve never met, in war torn countries, starving, hurting, and just living. I love that I am so politically minded. I love that I am stubborn. I love that when I love my friends it is unconditional. I love that I speak  my mind. I love that I am honest to a fault. I love that I am a take me or leave me kind of person.

I love that I can occasionally take pretty darn good photos. I love that I have surrounded myself with creative, intelligent and funny people who I need never wear a mask with. I love that I am so in love with nature. I love my obsession with the olde days. I love that I am pansexual (for those who don’t know, it basically means that gender is unimportant, it’s the person that matters). I love that I find it easier to connect with intelligent people than stupid ones. I love that I get so offended by honestly racist, homophobic, sexist, xenophobic and bigoted people and that I will tell them exactly why they disgust me.

I love that I can make people laugh. I love my quick wit. I love that I am pushing myself to go back to drama classes, even if it’s just to become their photographer, at least it’s still involvement within the performance arena. I love that I am genuine. I love that I am a pixie. I love that the first half of my bank account is Ms JF; Ms JF by name, mischief by nature. I love that the person I truly fell in love with first, knows I still love them, and that we are still in contact. I love that I still care about the friends who have moved on to the Summerland over the last few years. I love that remembering them makes me cry. I love that I don’t have to hide my emotions. I love that I can bring out other people’s feelings when they’ve been in denial. I love that I am a healer, even if I cannot heal myself. I love that I care more about other people than I do about myself. I love that I seem to have a link with cats. I love that I will sing along to any musical, whether it be a stage performance, film or TV episode. I love that I know just about every Eddie Izzard sketch word for word. Ditto Monty Python.

I love that I do not fit completely into any social group’s ‘box’ as defined by society. I love that I can bear a grudge when necessary, and drop things and move on when not. I love that I am a stubborn bitch. I love that writing this post isn’t as hard as I thought it was going to be and I love that knowing that surprises me. I love my thirst for knowledge. I love my ability to relate to people.

I love that there is something about me which causes the people I know and love to believe I should be alive.

Finally, the thing I love about myself the most, is my friends. You have helped me become who I am today, you have helped me live, and I love you. All of you. Forever, and with all my heart. Thank you.

30 Days of Truth #1: Hate

Day One: Something you hate about yourself.

I genuinely don’t know that I can limit it to one thing. So I won’t.

I hate that I care so much about things and people who don’t care back. I hate that despite the fact I’ve been hurt so many times I still can’t hold myself back and protect my heart. I hate that I wear my heart on my sleeve. I hate that I’m a depressive who pushes people away. I hate that I’m ill. I hate being intelligent, sometimes anyway, because if I wasn’t so intelligent then maybe life would be easier.

I hate that my life never seems to go how I want. I hate that I’m too scared to tell people how I feel. I hate that I’ve missed chances with people who will always have the majority of my heart. And I hate that when I tell someone and they leave me, that I can’t accept that they’re not good enough for me and not vice versa.

I hate that I’ve stopped being able to support other people because I’m so broken. I hate that I hate myself this much. I hate that my self esteem is non-existent. I hate that I let people take my confidence from me. I hate that I believe in love, because it clearly doesn’t believe in me. I hate being alone. I hate that I can never tell my friends how much they mean to me. I hate that I am the one who everyone worries about. I hate my brain, my thought patterns, how I look, how I feel, what I want. I hate that I have no idea what I’m meant to do with my life. I hate that even if I did know I wouldn’t have the guts to do it.

I hate that there are SO many more things I could put on this list.

I hate that while writing this, I felt like I was crying because my brain thought I should, and not because I actually felt anything.

EDIT: I hate myself for having to keep coming back to this post because I know there are so many more things I hate about myself and I can’t help but feel this is an unfinishable post, even if I had all the time in the world.

I have decided…

…That, starting the first week of  January 2012, I shall do The 30 Days of Truth list. I think it would be good for me to air some things and to force myself to accept some other things too. I shall answer them as if no one is reading. They shall be words from my heart, from my soul. They shall be the essence of me, and however harsh the truths, or uncomfortable the answers, they shall be the truth, the baring of my spirit.

Also, a friend posted this on Facebook:

“So 2011? Lets face it, It’s been a shite year. War, looting, recession, and it feels like we’re being shat on from every direction. Idiots have become idols, idols have become idiots, and everyone in the middle has become fed up. still, it’s not like 2012 is suppose to be the end of the world or anything… Oh.. hang on a minute.”

I must admit I can’t help but think the day I finally achieve happiness will be the day the world ends*. It would be just the right level of irony to reflect my existence.

* For the record, I don’t believe the world will end in 2012. The Mayans used a cyclical calendar, which means there is a new beginning. A new phase to welcome in. Or perish in.  The previous calendars appear to have linked to geological changes, so maybe now would be the time to contemplate moving to higher ground…

With the eyes of your soul you listen as I speak

My heart is beating so quickly I feel as though I must be having a panic attack. And yet I feel so numb that I know it isn’t so.

My body feels as though the skin is covering a strong flowing ocean. I can almost feel the tides within. I feel heavy. Even this typing motion is almost too much, but if I get the rhythm right then they syncronise and I can continue.

My head feels full of chunky cotton wool, it’s heavy, but the dark thoughts don’t seem to get through so much now. Just a dull thrum in the background of nothingness.

I thought I could manage today without crying. I was wrong. I have no control any more. Over anything. Maybe I never did.

If one’s life is all planned out before they enter this world then why bother even trying to do anything? Nothing will work. Nothing will change. But if one makes their own decisions and nothing is planned out then what awful decisions have I made to deserve being here? And how is it fair to be in a situation which drains oneself of all motivation and energy, thereby preventing an escape from appalling situation into a life worth tolerating, if not living?

I feel like I could cry for weeks.

Around 30 hours until the dawn of a new year. I don’t want it to come. “Start the year as you mean to go on” seems to imply it will be another miserable year. Gods know this hasn’t been the best.

I never have resolutions because I don’t see the point in setting myself obstacles to fail at or give up on within two weeks of making them. Which, let’s be honest, is what the majority of people end up doing. But I would like to get hurt less. And be a happier person that people want to be around without hurting or ‘getting brought down’ by.

I don’t want a new year.

I want a new life.

Blue Stone – Far Away