I Have A Need For Intensity

09/04/2018 § Leave a comment

I bonded with a cat this weekend, the first cat I’ve ever properly connected with. I have vastly preferred dogs as long as I can remember but Gloria is a needy cat, which strikes a perfect balance.

I am fostering a cat when I move into my new flat next year. I am very, very excited about this.

I don’t usually get that excited by cocktails, I’m more of an ale and gin drinker. But we went to a very nice cocktail bar last night and the drink I had was incredible and full of rose – one of my favourite scents and tastes. Rose reminds me of good things in the past, the present, and good things to come. It’s heavy and cloying and I like that. It sticks.

This morning I practiced hungover yoga in the sun with the cat; Gloria, and the dog; Betty, and I felt things settle and calm inside me. My worries didn’t go away, they just mattered less. It feels currently like I am taking hold of life with both hands. It feels good. I am going to a burlesque show tonight and one of my friends is performing there for the first time and I can’t wait to see the humour and the glitter and the creativity and the sexiness of all the different performers.

I discovered yesterday that Charlotte’s husband died of a heart attack recently, and I felt myself freeze when I read this. I am sensitive to this kind of thing, it stays with me for months. They were so happy and had a baby together, and she must feel like there’s a hole the size of her body, inside her body. She must feel like the world is a terrifying place for her and her baby.

When things don’t go the way I like, my mind follows predictable paths to protect itself emotionally and to fulfil its desires. I tried to nap today, to prepare for the onslaught this week will be (a good onslaught of work and training) but I couldn’t sleep. Instead my mind wandered to sex, and specifically the kind of sex I shouldn’t let it wander to, for nearly an hour. It was an enjoyable hour.

I don’t feel guilty for these fantasies. I’d never act on them and to play with them in my mind is a way to feel pleasure, express myself, satisfy urges, scratch itches, burn the wet skin, pour alcohol on the scab. In other words, go too far the other way to what I’m lacking. But safely, harmlessly, pleasurably.

I am strong the first chances I get. I am ashamed of myself sometimes; for my lack of confidence and the many ways it shows. But the shame is only directed at the thought processes inside my own head.

I try and remind myself these things regularly: That it is not pathetic to be patient, to be hopeful, there is no shame in trusting, in trying, in looking at the facts and seeing them skew to the left and putting my money and my hope where the odds look good – to the left – instead of running with fear and pulling out of the game altogether.

I am running over pill packs until camp so I don’t have periods. I won’t let anything so unnecessary get in the way of the closeness and connection I need. There is enough to get in the way of that already.

He speaks of next year with a certainty that we’ll still be together. I love him. I know he loves me. But I am finding it so difficult to settle into this laidback rhythm. We have never argued in the year we have known each other, we have just had discussions. There has genuinely never been a reason to argue and the way our personalities combine does not lead to friction. The calm makes me anxious. He is so trusting, so reasonable, so kind hearted, so rational. How can I trust the good when there has never been a bad in us.

I suggested stripping as a one off shift when in between jobs a few weeks ago and he was honest and said he would rather me not do it, but was utterly reasonable and supportive of me doing so. He couldn’t have handled it more perfectly. I am looking for arguments and reasons not to like him but I can’t find any. I need to release this pressure inside me. I need to know the unknown. I need something to get my teeth into. I need a big argument so we can make up. I need it to go wrong so I can see that it is all ok. I need to feel the closeness that kind of friction can bring. Not know we’re close with logic, but feel it with emotions.

One day I will learn to not panic about my enthusiam and my emotions and my love.

In the last few weeks I have been hired, fired, hired, nearly ended a good relationship, strengthened the relationship, had multiple panic attacks, put together two pole routines I’m proud of, worked multiple jobs, seen friends, learned new skills, found tragedy, met the kindest strangers, made and sold small items to local businesses, made art, written, baked, spun fire fans and missed the touch of my boyfriend in a way that aches and aches.

I really like working in Media City. I am feeling part of the world again after sinking away for a frightened two weeks. I am regaining confidence again. I am finding the time and the self-esteem to recontact people again.

‘So you were on your own all day and doing nothing? No wonder you’re like this’ Becky said. And of course, of course. You learn about yourself and the world and then you forget, again and again.

I have been practising a little British Sign Language every day, and every day I get better.

E overdosed two weeks ago on Wednesday night and although she is physically OK now she has been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder and won’t be mentally fully OK for a long time. She is the life and soul of the party and so is M and they both struggle with depression and similar issues. I don’t know anyone who is the life and soul of a party who doesn’t struggle with some variation of these things. I can’t relate myself. I can’t hide anything. If I am ever struggling mentally it shows. if I am ever laughing you can believe I am happy. I am not a good actress, anything I feel is reflected on the surface.

I have found that when I hang a coat or scarf on the back of an empty bus seat people are drawn to that seat and sit there even when empty seats surround it. I witness it happen again and again. They often don’t consciously register the scarf or coat is there. Why are they drawn to it?

Every chance I get to chose John over anything else I pick John. I haven’t regretted it yet. I feel doubt today and I feel doubt many days, but my doubts are always shown to be wrong in the end.

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01/04/2018 § Leave a comment

Things I love:

Dancing
Plants
Writing
Creating
Laughing at my own ridiculousness
Connecting with people
Laughing with people
Doing things for people

Trying To Drink The Rain

31/03/2018 § Leave a comment

January 2018

I have started my period, and it feels like good timing. It is my first one in over two months and – on an emotional level – it feels like a chance to reset myself, cleanse. Purge sadness from my body. Release him.

I wonder what moving past this will take. I wonder if it will be like with M, where I woke every morning smiling uncontrollably and craving fruit, or like J, where it was easy, then hard, then easy, then hard again in waves.

I find loving past versions of myself comes naturally, which in some ways is surprising. Facebook throws up memories, and I see my skinny spotty self at a birthday party aged 15. I see my baggy clothes and scruffy hair. I remember how helpless I felt in the ways I could look better. I didn’t understand anything about hair. Nothing could be done about the skin, it was teenage hormones. I knew nothing about fashion and couldn’t have done anything with the knowledge if I did.

I wanted adventures and excitement and connections and to belong, and I worked at it and I got it all.

I mentioned previously that in hard times I retreat into art. I also retreat into food. Sex is never a comfort. Sex is a sugared knife. He doesn’t know these things about me. He doesn’t know much because he doesn’t ask, isn’t interested, doesn’t want to know. This is dating at arms length. This is barely-friends that touch skin. Then a closeness and back again. The lack of consistency leaves me clawing at myself.

I have tried harder than I should have in past relationships. I remembered today the weekends I took the train back to Nottingham. So many weekends to lie on his bed with him with the open window and the sunlight. And when he stopped caring I took so long to leave. I accepted such a lack of love, waiting and waiting and trying and trying to pull single drops from his skin to fill a bowl. Like standing outside in the spitting rain trying to catch enough to drink. I have to let things get so bad before I can leave.

To live and to thrive

05/02/2018 § Leave a comment

Even if you hate your job it’s important to have professional pride, for your own sanity and sense of worth. A sense of worth is important, and if you can’t fulfill this through a meaningful job you have to create your own meaning. Professional pride is one way to do that in a menial role.

Moving into a brighter February than the previous weeks has brought me to a clearer realization that in most ways you choose your own happiness. We have to swiftly quell dark thought patterns when they rise and replace them with positive ones. We may wake with the thought that this day will not be a good one, but we must make the choice to believe otherwise and tell ourselves that this will be a good day. We must mAve believe that the majority of days are good days, and that bad days are anomalies. Life follows belief. We must make what we can of each day. Focus on positive interactions. Love properly, work properly, play properly, live properly. And by properly I mean with enthusiasm and positivity. With focus on the present moment.

This could sound like a lot of hard work but creating these grooves is an enjoyable process in itself, and the reward is a pure kind of happiness. In making these shallow grooves over and over we repath the river of our mental state.

I realise I write these things in a childish way but to be frank I don’t have the capacity to speak otherwise currently. I am raw, and simple, and too empathetic with all around me.

My friend invited me to the theater to watch Shakespeare with her. She said ‘I know this is probably really not your thing’. Very few things are not my thing but she is right and this is a rare time I’ll decline an event with her. This friend and I do all kinds of things together and she is the first person I go to when I see anything a bit unusual that I want to do. Friends like this are invaluable.

There is a woman at work, lets call her Claire, who fascinates me as everything I am not. She is never in a daydream, always focused, always aware of her present moment. Ambitious, confident and consistently self assured. She is a lawyer and very successful for her age. There is something about her which I’m sure everyone recognises and which is behind her professional success. A certain control, inner power, sharpness. I can’t picture a version of her story in which she wouldn’t be where she wants to be.

There is a man at work, lets call him Chris, who works in facilities and whose role it is to fix, mend, lift, move, rearrange. He is in his late twenties, with a great body and a strong jawline. The type who speaks like he grew up on a council estate and doesn’t have a single GCSE but can change a lightbulb with his eyes shut and whose lean wirey muscely can move whatever you like. Predictably, I am fascinated and aroused and my lizard brain melts into a place without words when he is in the same room with me. It’s pure lust and fantasy, no logic or sense. I would never want to date him.

This job was supposed to end on 16th Feb but it has been extended again till probably the end of February. This is a good thing, financially, and because the job is easy and pleasant. But I was hoping so much to go home and see my family for a chunk of weekdays and to see that visit move backwards several weeks in my diary is not a good feeling, though I’m counting my blessings.

I am planning a shoot for just myself. I don’t plan for it to go anywhere, be seen by anyone, be used as advertisement for anything. It is simply for my own creative fulfillment. When times feel difficult, like they do now. I tend to retreat back into art as a method to heal through pain. Art is a knife that cuts and applies healing balm at the same time. It’s exactly what I need.

Fire is purification. Growing is pain.

I have cried almost every day this past week. To put it simply, I am lonely. What bothers me isn’t that I can’t alleviate this loneliness, I can, mostly, by seeing friends and speaking with my mum (as always, she is perfection when I am not feeling my best). What bothers me is that after all these years of trying to be otherwise it I still struggle to be alone. Fully alone, a night in the house with no company and no conversations other than with myself.

Without connection to others I feel lost. I have always been this way and I try and I try but can never seem to grow past it.

I have been writing to calm myself. Yesterday I sat on the floor and ate lasagna and watched Schindler’s list and cried. Yesterday my friend made things with me and her talent blew me away. Next week I am celebrating friendship by pancakes with my housemates on pancake night, and films and food with Becky on valentines night.

I am trying not to bite my nails. I am trying to see my future as bright. I am trying to be kind to everyone around me. I am trying. I am trying.

Some days my loneliness feels like ice in my stomach. Sometimes like an ice bath after a hard workout, cool and healing. Some days, the best days, I barely feel it at all.

Homoelectric

30/01/2018 § Leave a comment

‘Do you have enough mdizzle, or shall I bring drink?’ I asked. ‘I have enough md for everyone’, he said.

You can judge a person by his friends, and his friends are all lovely and creative and full of humour; just how I expected. This weekend was amazing and beautiful and fulfilling. My body was happy, my mind was happy, my soul was happy. It feels like it could so easily be or have been a beautiful transition into a relationship, into the boyfriend/girlfriend labels. But they still aren’t there, and they feel so far away, with so much space needed from his side. I don’t believe a relationship is what he wants or what he’ll want for a while.

And so I create points of excitement and joy that aren’t to do with him and dot them all throughout February. I focus on my friends and the others I love. I take hold of the silver gorgeous noose I love to have so much around my neck and ease a finger under to allow a little room to breathe. And, I think, I’m breathing. There is hope and hopelessness and it all feels good.

He holds me close and he holds my hand and he kisses me goodbye in front of his friends. And yet. But.

I don’t understand how the sex is so good. I do not understand how it is so good.

I spent Sunday night dog tired and very happy with three good friends. It was our last night of our own Come Dine With Me and they have been such amazing evenings, we all get along so well. B gifted me out of the blue with her old washed bedsheet. She said ‘some people would consider an old bedsheet a rubbish gift, but I have a feeling you’re not one of those people’. She was right and I felt my heart was going to burst. A couple of weeks before I had told her that one of my bedsheets had gone missing, that I only had one now and was rotating it with a mattress topper. There are many ways to give and to receive affection but I have discovered over time that one of the ways that means the most to me is when someone does something that makes life easier. Cooks me a meal, gifts me something which may well be ugly or small or unexciting to the outside world but which is something I need, lends me their jumper when I am cold. I feel love by practicalities.

29.01.18

30/01/2018 § Leave a comment

Tarot ~

1 Judgement.
2 + 3 + 4 The hermit. The 8 of pentacles. The hanged man.
5 + 6 The 4 of swords. The Inverted king of cups.
7 Death.

Interpretation ~

My goal is to make everything balanced and fair and right. This needs to be done with a rational clear head, and I need to make sure decisions I make are not so emotionally driven. I have the ability to be introspective and seek out information, and to become skilled in my training and career. I have to pause and take time to see things from a different perspective, this is especially true considering the headspace I have been in recently. I have to make sacrifices and accept that sacrifices must be made. My next steps are to feel gratitude for what I have and be humbled. Take the time to pause and rest and recover. I must be aware that in the pursuit or in the attainment of my goals, some things will have to end, to die. I have a feeling this will mean aspects of my lifestyle, and certain friendships.

This feels very relevent to me right now. I have been focusing too much on certain areas of my life and neglecting others. I need to have more fun with friends, and I need to do more creative/artistic things other than (bomb-ass and highly enjoyable) vegan cooking. These are starting to balance out again after a month of lots of dance training and not much drinking or partying, and creative/chill time neglect. I am excited to see my family again in a few weeks, and have quality time with them. It feels very needed, I need to retreat back to the nest. My training is starting to feel progress again after a while of feeling very plateaued. I knew gradual progress was happening and to stick with what I was doing, but it felt hopeless for a while. Everything felt hopeless for a while! The last few weeks have been tough and I stayed strong in that I mostly did ‘all the right things’ you need to do in misery. Keep eating well, exercising, seeing friends, being kind, focusing outside your bubble, giving myself tlc. All the things that feel hard when you are struggling. But it has all paid off, as I knew it would.

I’m expecting some rough days ahead but I believe it will all work out very well in the end, and even the close future is sunny. Even today.

This Addict Needs a Hit

08/01/2018 § Leave a comment

Being with him is accepting constant frustration
An itching at the gums
Scratching at my wrists in the morning and the afternoon and the evening
 
I must discuss this with him
my needs and
the ways they are not met
 
I have a core of loneliness running from scalp to toes
I lay in bed this morning trying to feel it’s shape
Accept it, expose the nerves, or cover them
 
Try to practice self love
Try to body scan
Try to move love into each part of my body
 
Eventually gave up, went to my friends room to cuddle
Had two secret cries that day, two cries in rooms with others where they couldn’t see
and I know I am not depressed because I can laugh at myself with ease
 
Did you know if you massage a girls breasts she forms emotional attachments (says science)
I like my life to be full
Like a well stocked fridge
 
There’s a feelings soup
He’s dipping a spoon in and enjoying the taste
I fell in and am drowning and swimming in equal measures
 
Usually I live in five different worlds
But this week I feel like I live in barely any
There’s a thousand different communities to join, you know, there’s rarely an excuse to be lonely, but here I am
 
We all see sides of each other that others don’t see
And I’m a ass therapist
Who feels like he sees barely a tenth of me
 
People’s sex drives make them vulnerable not powerful
Men’s sex drives make them vulnerable not powerful
We’re all vulnerable. We’re all powerful