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.

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.

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…

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

I can’t keep doing this. I don’t want to feel any more. Anything. Ever. I’m so tired. I have no idea what to do to make myself able to cope with normal every day life and I hate this. I’m scared and I feel desperately alone. I feel like I can barely breathe.

I need to heal but how can I? I’ve never managed in the past. I want to cut out my heart and throw it away. I’d rather be cold than stupid. I’d rather feel nothing than pain.

Last night my Favourite Gay kept telling me never to change who I am, because he loves me and I’m one of his most special friends. But I think now that must have been the cider talking, because no one could say that and mean it. How is anyone supposed to deal with this person if I can’t? If I hate myself for crying this much and for having stupid thoughts and for not being able to learn how to hold my emotions back then how can anyone else love me? Or even want to be around me?

I want to vanish. Disappear into the ether. And be forgotten. I can’t go on like this. But I have no idea what I should do. Or what I can do. There’s so little fight in me any more and I just want to be ok. I so desperately want to be ok.

Garbage – Fix Me Now

Things don’t have to be this way
Catch me on a better day

Bury me above the clouds
All the way from here
Take away the things I need
Take away my fear

Hide me in a hollow sound
Happy evermore
Everything I had to give
Gave out long before

Fix me now I wish you would (Fix me now)
Bring me back to life (Fix me now)
Kiss me blind somebody should (Fix me now)
From hollow into light

Crashing silent broken down
Falling into night
Who gave up an who gave in
I’ll go without a fight

Cut me down or cut me dead
Cut me in or out
Kiss me blind time after time
Take away my doubt

Fix me now I wish you would {Fix me now I wish you would} (Fix me now)
Bring me back to life (Fix me now)
Kiss me blind somebody should {Kiss me blind somebody should} (Fix me now)
From hollow into light

Things don’t have to be this way
Catch me on a better day

Nowhere only down from here
Pick me off the floor
Take away the things I dream
One time one place one more

Fix me now I wish you would {Fix me now somebody should} (Fix me now)
Bring me back to life (Fix me now)
Kiss me blind somebody should {Fix me now somebody should} (Fix me now)
From hollow into

Fix me now I wish you would {Fix me now somebody should} (Fix me now)
Bring me back to life (Fix me now)
Kiss me blind somebody should {Fix me now somebody should} (Fix me now)
From hollow into light

Things don’t have to be this way
Catch me on a better day
Things don’t have to be this way
Catch me on a better day.

A quote from the book, which rings entirely true to me, as those of you who know me will understand, is the following:

“While I can’t have you, I long for you. I am the kind of person who would miss a train or a plane to meet you for coffee. I’d take a taxi across town to see you for ten minutes. I’d wait outside all night if I thought you would open the door in the morning. If you call me and say ‘Will you…’ my answer is ‘Yes’, before your sentence is out. I spin worlds where we could be together. I dream you. For me, imagination and desire are very close.“

I have been finding, more and more of late, that my increasing inability to open up to people is making it harder for me to feel able to love. I sometimes feel my chest could burst with the amount of love building up in my heart – Skunk Anansie has this one covered If I opened my heart there’d be no space for air. I know I’m an intense person and I wear my heart on my sleeve and that needs to change because it’s only doing me damage. I just don’t want it to change who I am, I just want to keep myself safer. But at the same time I want to be completely naked, my soul bared, I want to be known and understood and loved. I just don’t know what to do, what I’m meant to, how I’m meant to get on with my life, what anything means. I’m frustrated with myself for being so scared of following my dreams but as yet I have no idea how to get around my confidence and esteem issues.

One thing that I do know, is that I have some amazing people in my life who have faith in me, who often know me better than I know myself, will support me through thick and thin and not be afraid to give me a kick up the backside when I doubt myself. I was very lucky to spend 6 hours with two such friends last night. They actually made me feel like I meant something. I know a lot of people say they care but I rarely believe it. They saved me yesterday, all day I had daydreams almost of cutting myself. I wanted to feel. I wanted the sting and the blood and to know I existed. I’ve never wanted that. When I cut before (which I’ve not done in 6 years) I didn’t want to, as it were. And this want should scare me like it did last year, but it doesn’t. And the fact it doesn’t scare me should bother me, but it doesn’t. I think I may be requesting medication change #6 when I go back to the psychiatrist in January.

Once again, I’ve managed to avoid what I really want to say, but I’m not feeling brave enough today. I feel very small, and like I’m in a box watching someone else be me. I can’t stand feeling so much and yet feeling so numb and empty at the same time. I can’t comprehend this. I feel like I’m at the bottom of a canyon and there’s no way for me to get out. I don’t know how to escape. I don’t know how to be, to live. I just don’t understand.

I’m coming off my last trial of medication to try something new. The tablets I’ll have to take are terrifyingly huge, and I’m rubbish with even the smallest tablet! And if these don’t work they’ll try treating me for bi-polar despite the fact I’ve never had a high. I’ve been diagnosed for over a year now, and I feel like I’ve gone backwards, I don’t feel like any improvement has been made. I’m finding it harder to leave the house, people I thought cared are rapidly disappearing from my life because it turns out they don’t care when it’s actually serious, and I feel increasingly alone. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.

Even writing this, which before would have had me crying while I typed because of how strongly I feel, is just making me angry. Partly because I can’t cry right now and partly because seeing it all in black and white makes me realise what a shitter this is. Am I really that awful a person that people don’t want my friendship unless it’s looking after them? And do I deserve to be stood up? And alone? I had a girlfriend recently, not that it lasted very long, she started attacking me with things I supposedly hadn’t done when she actually meant “please tell me you care”, and just a couple of weeks on she’s already seeing someone else. I’ve not even kissed anyone since we broke up. But then again there’s me with the ridiculous respectful aspect that humanity on the whole seems to have decided is no longer required.

I don’t belong in this time. I belong in a time where people actually gave a crap about other people’s feelings. Admittedly I’d probably be put in a mental asylum for being all crazy and whatnot, but at least ‘normal’ people cared about other people’s thoughts and feelings and things weren’t all about sex, which nowadays they seem to be. I don’t want a fuckbuddy, I want a relationship. I guess I’m just not relationship material.

I’m so tired of all this. I want to go to sleep and never wake up. I won’t, I couldn’t hurt the people I care about like that, but this is really getting far too much for me to deal with and I don’t like it.

Then the conversation intensified, he showed us some of his poems, the first of which was rather odd but the second really drew me in. He had a copy of Ted Hughes’ Crow poetry which he kept thrusting upon us. And finally he kissed me. And the conversation that followed pretty much had me head over heels for him. He asked what I did to keep my mind going creatively, and upon hearing my answer he told me to write.

After over 2 hours of saying that I was going to go home, and after he’d asked to come home with me and I’d said no, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to let him go, I walked away, head down, tears streaming down my face. I got around the corner and stopped to pull out my notebook and write down the poem that was going through my head, in case I couldn’t remember it by the time I got home.

I feel like such an idiot, who even falls in love that quickly?! And it isn’t love, it can’t be. I don’t know what it is. But it hurts. But it’ll be ok, I’ll probably never see him again. And he will have forgotten me by tomorrow.

Today is my first day off Sertraline, starting my 7 day break before starting the new meds, and I’ve been more than a little productive!

I have:

• Cooked and frozen four portions of mushroom risotto. Yesterday I cooked Tuscan bean stew (which was lovely, surprisingly!) and lentil bolognese sauce.
• Prepared four mini pizzas with many vegetables, ready to cook when I get hungry and if/when my friend turns up this evening.
• E-mailed my grandma.
• Researched various childcare/learning difficulty support home learning courses.

Not bad considering!

The course I think I’m most likely to go for is a recognised qualification and equivalent to NVQ level 4. It covers working with and supporting people with learning difficulties, which is really what I want to do. If I put in 5 hours work for 5 days a week I could qualify in 8 weeks, which isn’t half bad! Especially seeing as it doesn’t look likely that I’ll be able to return to my current job – contract expires mid-November and I doubt they’d be able to justify giving me a permanent job after around 5 months of absence! But at least if I do a qualification then when I do feel well enough to work it shows that I’ve been pro-active rather than just wallowing in self-pity.

I really am chuffed with how much I’ve achieved today I hope I get more days like this. My mum thinks that the cooking may be helping – it’s a creative outlet, even if I am just following a recipe. Plus, it’s healthier food in my system. I think she may be on to something!

Went to see my bestie today. Helped him out with some stuff and watched a couple of films. Think we cheered each other up a bit. It’s just that since I woke up this morning I’ve felt…wrong… It’s the only word I can really think of to describe how I feel. Something just doesn’t seem right. As I was walking to the post office this morning to pick up a parcel that I missed yesterday as I was out picking up a parcel I’d missed (I spy a running pattern…) I felt as though maybe I was still asleep and that this was yet another lucid dream. I’m not suicidal, but today I just don’t want to be alive. Maybe it’s because tomorrow will be the first anniversary of Tom’s murder (brief mention of him in a post from last year). Still no update on his murderer(s?) being found. Or of the Spanish authorities actually doing anything about it.

My heart hurts. Every breath seems to be an effort that I find myself struggling to maintain. All I can do is hope tomorrow is a better day. To celebrate Tom’s life rather than mourn our loss.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel any more. I’ve discovered that so many people I thought would be there for me through thick and thin just aren’t. If they feel they have to give instead of just taking, they don’t want to know. That being said, so many people have come out of the woodwork and been so supportive, and the majority of those are people I really didn’t think cared much about me. I want to be numb, or just to feel better. I’m really not looking forward to next week, only being on the medication which is giving me the horrendous side effects while I have my break before starting my new medication, which will hopefully mean I can come off the evil meds.

I’m rambling, I know. I just feel like I have to keep typing so that I can focus on this rather than on how I feel and the ridiculous amounts of thoughts, self-doubt and self-loathing which seem to be running through my mind every second of every day right now. I feel so small, and so lost, and so lonely. I have the house to myself this weekend, which is nice and quiet. And I probably feel better for being here alone, so I don’t have to worry about offending either of my housemates while I’m not in the mood for company.

I just don’t know what to do.