It appears that my internal demons have abated.

I still find myself zoning out but I'm not dwelling on the sadder parts of what I need to achieve.

The number one improvement has been my sex drive returning.  With gusto!, to my partners absolute delight. 

It has not escaped my thoughts that its been just over a year since Dave's passing but I think my grief ran its course naturally and it was a case of when riding the wave in I could either fight it and try and get back to something I knew or I could hang on for dear life and just see where it took me.  For the control freak in me, the latter wasn't an option so I fought it to start with, once everything I had tried had failed I ran out of energy to carry on battling so I just taped myself to the proverbial board and waited for the wave to carry me off into some unknown foreign land.   And here I am.

I'm about to leave my comfort zone and move into uncharted territory.  Not as daunting as it sounds really but for me it is, I like routine, I like knowing my place and I like to challenge what I know not what I don't.

A while ago I was ready to walk out on my 5 year relationship, I had been physically ready for some time and I was trying to find an excuse, trying to get him to do the walking, to make it so unbearable for me that I had no choice but to leave him behind, fortunately for me I made a last ditch effort to find out where I was going so drastically wrong.  I sought more grief counselling and this old bugger that I dug out of a local paper (in the hope that he was archaic and useless therefore confirming my intense desire to get out) turned me on my arse.  

I had to take a step back and figure out what was most important to me, me, not my family, not my boyfriend, not my dog (yes I had used her as an excuse) but me. 

What did I want. 

Did I want a controlled, lonely, unfeeling and desperate life filled with +1 invitations and meaningless sexual encounters when I could be bothered looking for it or did I want to fight my own personal issues, my own stupidly unrealistic expectations and see what I could achieve when I stopped attempting to control my partner.

Sure I wanted someone who could give me security (not financially but emotionally) but how could that happen when I wouldn't relinquish the reins,not to mention the fact that I needed to start buying in to my own mantra of everything you need as a person is within yourself. 

I wanted someone who makes me feel special, he's been with me now for over 5 years, that in itself means I'm pretty special to him.  He sees me naked every day, he doesn't see what I see, and although its hard for me to comprehend that its a fact he has told me time and time again,  he sees the girl he loves (and on some days he's hard-pressed to understand just why he loves me but he does), he sees me, the real me and I think one of my main concerns was that he would one day see what I saw and he'd run.  He's seen my inner bitch (and the outer one for that fact) but its not something that concerns him.

I wanted more than +1 and for the last 5 years thats exactly what I've had.

He's never hit me, never abused me, never degraded me, never been ashamed of me and never cheated on me and I know in my heart of hearts that he never will, fuck do I have it made or what!  

Sure there are somethings he'll never be, but thats what makes him him and it gives us a conversation topic ... hahahaha.

All I can say is that I'm in a better place mentally and emotionally and the sex !!! OMFG !!!  I love bedtime!

There is a shadow lurking in every darkened corner of what ever room, vehicle or open-space I occupy.

The unfortunate thing about having a shadow is their persistence to follow your every movement, to not skip a beat and to not even leave you alone for a second.

I am hounded constantly by her wanting my attention... every ... single ... waking ... moment of my day.

The really scary part is that I am functioning well at work, nothing is slipping, I even completed my Gym membership yesterday and booked in for my first classes tomorrow night.  My heart and soul want this change in my physical life as well as my working life more than anything I've wanted in over 6 years, but she just ... keeps ... pulling ... and ... fighting ... and ... pushing ...

I am so tired and drained and exhausted right now that my main concern is whether or not I can stand up without losing consciousness.  Scary yes.  I am so past the point of tears that I think I might be losing my grip on what little piece of reality I have left.

Every where I look I see her, not menacing or evil, just tapping her perfectly manicured nails on her cheek as she rests her chin in her hands, casually glancing at her watch.

I crave darkness, the deep blackness of pure night, no light, no moon, no sounds, no walls ...  in that kind of pitch blackness, I can see no shadows

Reality hit home with a vengeance over the long weekend, it hit me harder than it ever really has done before and it over-rode everything I had managed to convince myself of over the last few years.

Here are just a small amount of issues I have managed to attach myself to :

1. I am a control freak, due primarily to not having any input into previous relationships, I assumed the mantle of control in this one
2. I’m not very good at being “a couple” (see issue 1).
3. All of my problems are due to how I have been treated in life by people I have trusted and/or loved.
4. I am self reliant.

This weekend, my big black shadow cast itself upon me in a way I actually hadn’t encountered before. I knew she was at my every footstep and that she has been for quite some time now, all the control measures I had in place fell far too easily by the wayside last year but being so sure of the fact that I had her in check, I continued on my merry little dance with this big ugly beast. I had come right before, why not again now.

Deep down inside I knew that I was slipping further and further into hell with my demons, but like a dog with a bone, I let myself slide into the deepest and darkest annals of hell and it comforted me like a long lost friend. Enveloped by this warmth and familiarity, I let it take me. Boy did it take me.

This wasn’t a little deviation from the appropriate path, it wasn’t a little slip of the defences, it wasn’t even a spike, this was a head first 3 metre high, diving board jump straight into the pits of despair. I went in with a wide open arms and a smile on my face. I knew exactly what I was doing, where I was going and didn’t care what was on the other side, all I knew in my heart of hearts was that it wasn’t my fault.

I was a train wreck of the greatest kind, you know, one of those events that ends up as a “Seconds from Disaster” piece for National Geographic or a “When trains attack” video clip for Reality TV, I was rushing headlong into dark and dangerous tunnel and the sheer fact that I couldn’t see any light at the end of it (even if I had wanted to) didn’t deter me one bit. As I said before, I welcomed it, it was familiar to me and I needed comforting.

It started Friday morning, the beginning of the longest of long weekends in my working year. My partner and I had made relaxed but filled plans commencing with lunch at my brothers and then on to a trip up the coast for 2 days to stay with some relatives. When I woke up on Friday morning something was definitely in the air, it was a beautiful day, but everything I touched turned to custard, in a fantastically sunlit room all I could see were shadows.

My mood was so black that the devil himself would have run a mile. No matter what my partner did, it was wrong, it was like he was doing it on purpose, so I sniped at him (and I can be fairly vicious), to cut a long story short, that afternoon my partner went to lunch late at my brothers house, came home an hour later (so unlike him) promptly packed a bag and walked out. As soon as he left I tore the house apart, literally and physically, I needed a physical and rage filled workout and I got it, I smashed and kicked and hurled my way through the house until I was a heaving wreck on the floor, then came the first step into the darkness, with nothing left in the house to demolish I started on my head, internal and external, the language coming from my mouth (although normally not the best) would have been ample to send the entire British naval fleet into exile. I could keep going but I won’t, lets just say there were a lot of tears, a small amount of blood and a bucket load of self hatred.

Friday and Saturday were spent in a dark and hazy place, I don’t remember too much of it, just that I woke up at some un-natural hour in the morning and had to clean. The house was spotless by the time I had finished and for the first time in 48 hours, I could actually see the sunlight. I still hated everything around me and decided today was the day I sorted out my problem once and for all. I started packing and dismantling my life of nearly 5 years, and my house.

My partner was due home later that afternoon and I didn’t want to be there after all it was all his fault. Right?.

I had packed all I needed to, separated out all of our own personal things (DVD’s, CD’s etc), all I needed was to find somewhere to go. What held me off from ringing someone to say can I stay with you for a little while ? The nagging, burning thought in the back of my head that had been there all along. It was me.

Imagine, if you will, this …

You’ve done an 8 hour day, sure there are 4 more of them left in the week but hey, today was a good day, you head inside to watch a little TV and relax, as the minutes progress towards 5.00pm you start to feel heavy, slightly dreading the next few minutes, you squirm a little, try to get comfortable but you can’t, then you hear it, the car in the drive (or the 4 horsemen, depending on which side of the front door you are sitting on). The door flies open, so do the gates of hell, you think to yourself, am I sitting correctly, is the TV on the right channel, are my glasses on straight or are they reflecting too much sunlight, is the wind blowing too hard, is the grass too green etc etc, this goes on right up until you retreat into the sanctity of your own TV room away from the rest of the house where you can hear banging and crashing as things that didn’t seem out of place are hurled into what you can only assume is its rightful place, do you venture out to see if everything is ok? Feeling brave, you do, you ask if there is anything you can do, the reply “No, I’ve already done it” in that mean and sarcastic tone, every spoken word from that point is forced and calculated. After about 7.30pm there is a calm spell, peace reigns for a little while then there’s bedtime, you wait and wait for them to fall asleep so you can crawl into bed without being told that you are making too much noise or you are in the way or you have too much hair on your head. You love this person with all your heart and soul, this is why you still sleep there, you know its mutual but you just can’t seem to see any proof, you lie facing away from each other, one trying to find something to bitch about, the other trying to remember why they love you so much. You wake up in the morning and they’re already gone, no kiss goodbye, no “have a nice day today and see you after work” just a cold and empty space where the love of your life was lying an hour ago. “today will be different, maybe she’ll come home happy to see me”

That’s my partners story. He loves me with all he is, he’s loyal, he’s caring, he’s generous and he’s kind, I’m the one riding the big black dog through the front door every night.

It was me. Sure he has a few faults, he can be the lazy bastard to my clean freak, but as I concluded, he would be fighting a losing battle if he even tried to do something, as regardless of what he did and how he did it, it would still be wrong to me. He did what anyone else would have done, he gave up trying and started hoping that this storm cloud above my head would eventually go away.

I delved deeper into my depressive hole as I realised I couldn’t place the blame wholly on him, was he coming home to tell me he’d had enough, I wouldn’t blame him if he did. Then came the self pity, followed by a bit of steely resolve for good measure.

I know I can handle being on my own, the single life has always been a good friend to me, the problem was, did I want to be that girl again.

We kept our cool exteriors when he came home, we spoke nicely to each other and he told me about his weekend, I told him the nice bits about mine (I mowed the lawns). We didn’t talk about the situation until Monday night where upon he fully expected me to go at him. Instead, I did the only thing I could do with a clear conscience. I apologised.

2 Hours later, we had managed to talk ourselves stupid, I got my point across and he his.

When you boil it all down, there are women out there who deal with cheating husbands, kiddie fiddlers, alcoholics, gamblers, drug addicts, verbal and physical abusers, what do I have to complain about, I have a partner with an aversion to cleaning and tidying up after himself. He has to deal with someone battling depression with an anger problem.

I’m still not clear of the woods yet, I got pretty low, so low in fact that I grabbed the proverbial shovel and started digging, but the way it stands at the moment, I have started filling the hole back in and I’m slowly making my way out.

Dealing with depression is hard, both on my side and my partners, he’s a pretty tolerant guy and leaves me to my own devices most of the time, he’s generally understanding of the pressure I put on myself. He tries to be as supportive as he can but as most depressives will know, there is never a supportive role available. Its hard for him to see me like I am, he’s not as good at enjoying silence as I am and he’s definitely more sociable than me. He’s aware of me trying to push him out and he’s at a loss as to what to do there, as am I. The easy answer would be for us to go our own ways, but we’re not looking for easy, we’re looking for … each other (so to speak).

So alls well that ends well, next week I see a grief counsellor, maybe she can shed some light on what I think I already know.

I've been on a bender lately. No matter what I do I can't shake it. Seeing as this forum is basically anonymous, its easier for me to talk about it in here.

I've been thinking a lot about death, dying and the like, its been all consuming and even if I actually wanted to stop thinking about it, I don't think I could.

I’ve become more and more self-absorbed, not just with the main aspects of my own life, but with those around me too. I’m giving off so much negativity its horrific. All I want to achieve when I come up against someone or something is to hurt them. I want them to feel what I feel, hear what I hear in song lyrics, be plagued by the 311 (every morning I wake up at 311am on the dot for absolutely no bloody reason) like I am, walk in my steps and deal with these insane demons I do and then see how positive they feel.

Yes I’m feeling fairly sorry for myself. I was told to open up and speak to someone (a professional) about my problems. I did this, I’ve been seeing this lady for almost a month now and I don’t feel as if she has any clue about what the hell she’s talking about, suffice it to say yesterday was my last session with that waste of space.

Everything else is panning out ok, the relationship is still going, not as strongly as I would like but the love is still there so its worth the toothpaste in my opinion. Financially things are about the same as always, ends are meeting, peter is leaving paul alone, we have the basic necessities in life so all is good there too. Family can’t be better, nuff said. Work is work and that’s suits me perfectly.

So why do I feel as if I’m falling apart from the inside out. There’s a rotting sensation churning through me at every conscious moment of my day, something is gnawing away at my inner strength incessantly and its making me less able to cope with even the small things. I even had trouble parallel parking the work van this morning and it’s the only thing I’m really good at.

Half the time I’m fine with everything going on around me and I can even co-exist with the pricks of the world without breaking into a sweat. But always in the back of my mind is that marble bag of little thoughts … why are you here, you don’t wanna be here, you wanna be somewhere else, you don’t even like this person, slag her off, hurt them, do something mean to make yourself feel better, make someone else feel as shitty as you do. Lashing out is probably another thing I can do better than most of the people of this world, I’m blessed with a bit of intellect and a quick sharp witted tongue, I’m suprised that most of the people around me are still around me. My poor boyfriend, he can’t even breathe right sometimes.

I know I’m doing it, I feel their hurt when I say something, I see it in their eyes, that … “shit, not again, why the hell won’t she take the damn meds” look, the meds are NOT an option, they were once, and I swore to all I held sacred that they never would be again.

Then my brother rang me the other night, I wasn’t feeling particularly conversant but its always good to chat to him about the material things in life when he asked me … “How is it possible for you to be the centre of attention at the latest family function, surrounded by at least 10 people, totally in awe of what ever it was you were saying, you were smiling by the way, and yet appear to be the most lonliest person in the world, why are you like that, why can’t you be happy?”

He then progressed on to say that I had been like that for most of my teenaged and adult life, quite at ease with everyone I encountered yet so alone.

I came up with the only answer I knew to be true, “I’ve always been like that, it didn’t matter who I was with or what I was doing, I was always alone, I’ve always felt like that, I’ve become accustomed to feeling alone and nothing I ever did, no one I ever talked to and no one I ever loved enough to share my thoughts with could ever change that”.

It hurt him, I could feel it in his voice, my brother and I are close, very close actually but he is so unlike me that he has no comprehension of what I feel, he can empathise to a point but once it reaches that point hes at a loss. That’s when he said to me “take the damn drugs and get over it, you’re making everyone else feel like shit just because you don’t feel right in the head. Its not fair”.

No shit its not fair, try living it. I wouldn’t wish depression on anyone, its not just you that suffers, its everyone around you and you reach a point when you can’t care about that any more and you just want to wake up in the morning and get through the day as fast as you can so you can have that respite while you sleep.

The simplest yet most shit kicking part of this fucked up insanity is that absolutely no one and I mean NO ONE, can help you but yourself and even then, the work you have cut out for you is the crappest job in the world, but the pay off … you don’t have to be alone all the time, you can let the crowds in, you can talk to someone you care about and mean it and they’ll be able to see humanity in your eyes instead of your desire to be elsewhere or alone.

I've had a pretty shit weekend, I've realised a few home truths these last few days, I've been wallowing in my own self pity and complete misery listening to music I really shouldn't be listening to and thinking thoughts that are detrimental to my well-being.

I've packed up my happy place and shipped it off to a more worthy cause as it certainly wasn't doing its job with me.

Yes I'm on a downer and have been riding this one out for the last 6 or 7 days, I'm quietly screaming on the inside as I try so hard for people not to notice me.

My main driving focus at the moment is the deeply burning and soul destroying question ...  "How do you know when its over?"

Is it when you don't want to be in the same room as the person you've lived with for 5 years ?

Is it when even the sight of him makes you want to leave the room ?

Is it when you happen to look at him all you do is sneer ?

Is it when you think of being without him and it actually makes you feel ok again ?

Is it when you know somethings tearing you apart inside and you look beside you in bed at 430 in the morning because you can't sleep even though you haven't slept for more than 2 hours in the past 48 and you say to yourself "is this it?"

How do you know when its not "just a phase" anymore ?

How do you differentiate a "phase" from a depressive spike ?

How can you tell whether or not you do still love him even though you can't handle the thought of him touching you ?

How do you pack up a 5 year relationship when your only clear and concise reason is "I don't wanna be here"

In the back of my mind and the deepest recesses of my soul I keep telling myself to talk to someone about it, but what do you do when you have no one to talk to about it because what I have to say could influence their relationship with him and what if this "thing" is only temporary?  Then who ever it was I spilt my innards to will have this knowledge about the inner workings of my relationship and therefore have an unfair insight into "how we almost split"

In keeping my independance and carefully maintaining my own space I've managed to create a little hole for myself that culminated in me sitting on my bed at 12.30 in the afternoon on saturday after he buggered off (thankfully) for the weekend asking myself, "who can I talk to about this" when even before I asked myself the question, the tears teeming down my face and the total emptiness I felt told me that I knew the answer was no one.

Continuing the theme from the previous post, I am having one of those days - weeks - months.

The big fugly keeps rearing her head and I find myself getting more and more accustomed to her doing so.

One minute I'm happier than a kids meal at Maccers, next thing (and I mean next thing ... as in 0-morbid in 2.5 seconds).

It can't all be boiled down to one thing setting me off, there are a combination of mitigating factors.  Diet, tiredness, unhappiness, financial strain, relationship issues you name it, its all there.

I tend to spend most of my time withdrawn and internal, everything annoys me and nothing placates me, its like I'm on a never ending search for solace but not knowing where I can find it is driving me quietly insane.  I've decided that I don't want to be working where I am but I'm kinda stuck between a rock and a hard place as my boss and I consider each other as friends, I've known her all my life as she is friends with my parents, I've been with this company since April 2000 and as it is only her and I left now (plus our guys on permanent tools) its almost like I can't leave.  I think that is where most of my frustration lies, I don't want to be here but I feel obligated to be, I hate feeling obligated to do anything and yet here I am.  My boss wants me to agree to being here for another 4 years at least, If I could move on now, I would.  I have told her that I want to leave and that at the most I will give her another year, but only because that gives me time to get my shit together for my ultimate job. The Police.  I have my whole life mapped out in the police force.  But even though they take you in until you are in your 40's I want to be able to enjoy it in my early 30's.   Being told that I can't leave until she's ready to sell the business isn't fair.  She'll walk away from this with a lot of coin in her pocket and I've lost 3 - 4 good policing years to a business I couldn't care less about.

The only reason I am still here now is because she has looked after me, but there are swings and roundabouts here, we both look after each other and I dont want to be obligating my future career away on a shitty job.

Then there is the whole relationship issue which is a whole new kettle of fish in itself, I still don't know if I'm happy with the choice I have made, I do like the idea of being in a stable relationship, I enjoy knowing that I can get a hug anytime I want one, But I'm sick to death of having to consider someone else.  So the short end of that stick is that I don't.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not out trawling for new meat, nor am I actively seeking other forms of fulfilment, I just don't know what I want to do or who I want to be anymore.

The thing is, I've been asking myself this same question, over and over again, who am I ... really.   Deep down inside, what makes me like this?  Why am I so fed up with my life, when at anytime in this world there are millions of people who would give anything just to have a piece of what I've got.

Again, not to be taken the wrong way, I do not want to take a long walk off a short plank, I'm still too curious to see where this life is going to take me, I just sometimes wish that my life was like a magna-doodle, mess it up then wipe it clean and start again.

I don't know what the hell is wrong with me, 75% of my day is spent wondering why I want to crawl into my corner of this universe and cry, the other 25% of it is spent doing so.  I think this is a little bit more than a simple case of "rutting".

Depression is more to the fore at present, and I know she's playing a huge part in this, but thats only because she is the deep feeling part of me, eventually I know she'll shut down my emotions and I'll go all cold fish like normal, I'm mourning something at the moment, maybe its my youth, maybe its my potential, maybe I'm just having one of those days, either way, lets see what tomorrow brings.

My partners grandparents were finally laid to rest yesterday afternoon.  His grandfather had passed away 7 years ago and his grandma passed a year ago, their ashes were laid in a quick and respectful fashion, no pomp or grace, nothing was said as as my father in law said, it was all said when they were alive.  It was a sad and pleasantly memorable occassion.  After they covered the hole in we took a stroll, as most people do, to visit the graves on people they've known to have passed.

I find cemetaries (and the obituaries) morbidly interesting.  Its not that I like reading about death, its more like I'm curious about how they lived, did they love, were they loved and how did they die.  You find out more about how they died from an obituary but you can kind of ascertain what kind of person they were to the ones that loved them by checking out their plots.  Its a huge assumption to make when you say that this person was well loved by everyone because they have heaps of flowers and toys and really ornate headstones, but thats just not the case most of the time.

My bosses father was buried last year (2004) and he still has no headstone, its not that he wasn't loved or respected, its just that its too hard for the family to finalise his headstone.

It also raises the question of spirituality but thats for another post.

As a Maori we have certain differences to laying our dead to rest, not too dissimilar but some glaring differences but that again is getting off my original topic.

I'll cut to the chase ...

In this cemetary I saw a lot of joint plots (careful planning and acceptance of the inevitable) and I'd see some single plots.  It made me think.

Am I going to be a single or a joint plot person?  What do I want to be ?  I have to answer honestly that I don't know.

Yes I am currently in a relationship and have been for over 4 years now, this in itself is huge for me but its never been out of the question.  I just lacked the ability to attract someone suitable.  Which brings me to the point of this post.

Am I in love or am I just too comfortable to move on.

I've thought about love a lot of times in my life, I've gone from the puppy love of a 14 yr old teen to the naive love of a 22 yr old to the reckless and dangerous love of a 25 yr old and now I'm at the Adult love of a 31 yr old.  Apparently my love has matured from what it was initially with my partner to the relaxed and comfortable stage of a mature working partnership of convenience.  But is that love?  Is love different when you're 31 in comparison to when you're 22?  Is love at 31 the beginning of a joint burial plot?

Another good question to pose is, Is sex love?.  My partner and I enjoyed a very healthy sex life, mostly on the part of my highly active sex drive and my partners willing disposition.  For the last 4 months my sex drive has been AWOL.  I've heard many different opinions on why I'm not the rabbit I used to be.

1.  Ashamed of my appearance

2.  Unhappy with relationship

3.  Depressed

4.  Dealing with grief

I think it may be a mixture of all 4.  My depression resurfaced around the same time Dave went into hospital, I was able to turn that around but since then have noticed that it is much more prevalent than it used to be.  Once a depressive, always a depressive (as the old adage goes), I quite honestly believe this but it doesn't control me.  You have to let yourself be sad and angry and feel the full range of emotions but you just become more adept at recognising when you're starting to dwell.  My depression has always simmered at a very low heat below the surface and I've more often than not, been able to co-exist.  Its not something that can be cured so once you realise that its never going to be fully gone the sooner you can acclimatise and learn to live with it, You limit or remove the triggers, you talk, you find your happy places and you live your life.

Since it resurfaced, it has been simmering a little closer to the surface than normal, this is what I am basing my lack of sexual desire on.  When you are depressed, contrary to popular you don't want to be close and intimate with someone, you don't want to connect sexually or other ways, you don't want to talk, you just want to be left the hell alone.

{Please realise that these are my experiences and my opinions and not a professional opinion}

My boss asks me almost every day if I've had sex yet and for the last 4 months I've given her the same answer. No, I don't want it.

Thinking about it makes me feel dirty or that its expected of me as my womanly duties for my man.  To take the pressure off me I told my partner what I was experiencing and that it wasn't any reflection on him at all.  He accepted it and 4 months later I think that maybe it could be him.

Then I'm back to that whole scenario, Is what I have with my partner love or convenience, is his unwillingness to help me out around the house causing me to with-hold sex, do I still find him attractive or do I know too much about him now to be blinded by love.  We all have our faults and our less than appealing traits but is there a point where acceptance of these becomes an unwillingness to move on making the relationship one of convenience instead of love. 

Am I still in love or am I just to lazy to reignite it, is it worth it?

There is a difference to being lonely and being alone, I've known both, I can handle being alone, in fact I quite enjoy it, but I didn't like being lonely (who does), the scary question I ask myself is, I know I would be alone if we went our own ways but would I be lonely without him ?

I think I know the answer to this question, but I'm just too afraid to say it out loud because what if its wrong.  I tell myself that I would be fine on my own, and I know I would be, but I would miss him, even thinking about my life without him makes me sad but again, am I sad because of the comfort or love aspect.

Is love the same thing as being in a relationship.  Can you have a fulfilling relationship without love ?  Do we need love or do we just need companionship.

There are a couple other people whose blogs I read on occassion (well I subscribe to them because I'm too lazy to keep going back).

There is advice from all kinds of angles coming at me.  One person says counselling, another person says go to the gym, and another one says fight back.  Whilst all are good suggestions, counselling never worked for me in the past I'm not an open person (although my blogs and poetry can contradict that), going to the gym isn't an option financially, I can't buy a house if I'm forking out 500+ in gym memberships and fighting back, well, thats easier said than done.  I've fallen out with healthy eating buzz, although I'm still on the water kick so thats one saving grace, my work keeps me busy both mentally and physically although I could do with more physical stuff (damn paperwork never ends!) my sleep patterns are screwed as my wee poppet is teething and I'm a light sleeper.  I can't take sleeping tablets, had a little issue with them a few moons ago, I can't take anything too strong as I always wake up the next morning reeling from a med hangover, and I'm not actually in my own bed.

Shit I can moan.

Well its better that I moan here and not at home because this is my issue and no one elses.

Normally once I get my issues aired, I can go through them one by one and sort them out.  Its a case of rationalising the situation and assigning a case manager so to speak (this is where my many personalities come in handy).

Distinguish the different problems, prioritise them, delegate what you can, sort out what you can handle alone and if need be put your hand up and ask someone to give you a hand.  Thats my biggest problem though, asking for help has always seemed like a weak thing to do, like crying.  I cry and I hate myself for it, I just can't get past asking for help, I've always thought that if you can't sort out your own problems you're not much of a person.  Its something I've always thought and its why counselling never worked or never will.

I've never asked for help, although some may say that airing my laundry on here is a cry for help, maybe it is, just don't tell me you know what I'm going through, no one ever EVER knows what anyone else is going through, they only have their own perceptions of what someone is experiencing and even though they may seem similar, it is never exactly the same.  Its a fact I am quite vehement about.  Just as much as when someone says that they know you, boy do I lose it, how can someone else know me and who I am when I still cant quite figure that out yet ?

Anyway, I've septn enough time at work today, time to go play in peak hour traffic...

how sometimes you just wanna whine and whinge and generally be a pain in the arse to anyone within earshot ?

Well, thats me today.

I've calmed down somewhat since ... oooh say about 2 weeks ago, but thats not to say that everything is peachy again.

I've re read some of what I wrote and it drags me back to about 6 years ago where everything was what about me.  I always feel stress when I can't control things and i must admit there have been somethings this month that I would like to change to suit me a little more but unfortunately, I'm not superman and I can't fly around the world in order to reverse time, nor am I a time lord like Dr Who (btw what a pity about Christopher Eccleston - he was the first sexy Dr Who ever) who can just t.a.r.d.i.s himself back to before anything yuck happened.

Not that I imagine I could do much about Dave as secondary lung cancer has a very definite outcome.

Our housing issue is still a little disconcerting but only for the next two weeks, on the upside of that I get to put in some wickedly beneficial time with my beloved niece.  Strangely enough, a walking gurgling little wonder of creation has the most amazingly calming effect on me.  There is just so much purity and innocence in those eyes of hers and its a fantastic way to lose yourself.  I've never wanted kids myself and I grow more and more certain of that fact as each day goes by, but this little being is just mending my soul in a way I have never known before. 

I know I'm ranting into mid cyber-space and that no one is listening (colour me suprised) but sometimes just knowing that I've said it is enough.  (flashback ... My friend misery, metallica - that just screams my head contents)

I know I have issues to work through, I know thats its always gonna be this way, just sometimes don't you wish you could get a break?

Over and Out

Yesterday we found the ideal house to rent, this morning the owner decided not to take us in.

Fanf*****tastic.

I'm still waiting for the various factions to give me permits for my project in a couple of weeks...

I went and saw Dave last night briefly.

He is now on Morphine to try and settle his breathing so that he can start Chemo.  He is still on steroids, he is still on oxygen full time and he is also on a ventolin inhaler.  He cant stand up with out help and the most he can do all day is move from his bed to his chair 3 times.  The nurses have to help him to and from the loo and he needs their help to shower.  I don't think he'll make christmas.  The boss doesnt thing he'll make it out of October.

I've gone cold.  Too many emotions. 

Been here before, Shutdown.

Where's my damn water bottle!

Meltdown.

Saw Dave in hospital today, He's on oxygen full time and they have put him on steroids.  Cat scans aren't showing anything, he has been referred to the Oncology dept for tests in the morning.

Apparently he is on the high priority list, which means he'll get some attention on Monday.

The boss' boyfriend called in at the office today, we had only just gotten back in off tools, he made an observation, when something happens to someone we love my boss is a cry baby and I get angry.

Here comes the big ugly protection device.  Rather than get upset and withdrawn, I used to make myself get angry, then I would hit the mountainbike trails and let rip (hence the major injuries), I can't mtb anymore, too much fear of that now, besides, having a zero mtb fitness ability makes it almost impossible.

I'd find a spot on the wall and get angry if I thought it would do any good except that this time, with everything else going on around me (house hunting, not sleeping, food issues, work project) I'm taking it out on anyone who breathes.

This is not a good development. 

I read something today about depression spikes.  I'm recognising the symptoms, I've most certainly been here before, but the circumstances are so much more different than what they used to be.  I caused most of my old issues, these are things I can't control, not having control is what grates so much.

So far I have lashed out at my partner who understands, but I can tell he is struggling, my brother is copping it to the point where my evil tongued mouth may force him out of my life for an indefinite period (not my fault he and his gf are expecting and they are so not ready - long story, don't waste oxygen by thinking about it) and my boss.  I have a temper on me and she gets big bad and ugly when I feel backed into a corner. 

I much prefer this avenue than the alternate though, I used to close off, and fight my demons deep within my mind, its done some pretty wicked damage, I just hope I can find the strength to fight this thing.  6 Years I've been clear of shit like this.   Its at the point where I think that if someone looks at me the wrong way, or if my dog looks too cute, or if my cigarette doesnt light up properly I will let loose upon the world the biggest can of whoop ass it has ever seen ... or not

Who the f*** knows, and more importantly why the f*** should I care.

I'm off to drink myself oblivious on my beloved bottled water and gaze lovingly at my wee poppets picture

At least the water thing is sticking ...

We move in two weeks ... we have nowhere to go.

I have to delegate.  I hate delegating.  I'm a control freak.

We were going to buy, but it fell through at the last minute, which leaves us with nowhere to go.

Will have to seriously suss some rental properties out by my wee poppet, that way I can be closer to her, therefore more access, therefore she becomes more endeared to me, therefore I'm happy.

Until then, its stress city ...  I can feel the big ugly rearing her head, too much pressure, shes scratching her nails on the window pane as she floats past it (Salems Lot).

This was the one thing I could never master, letting go of the stress, it doesn't do any good, stress at work I can handle, stress at home sometimes ...  stress about everything ?  not a good way to give ugly a facelift I tell ya ...

Battle stations ...

Just got in from work, the boss went to the hospital on her own tonight.

She rang me on my way home to tell me Dave was worse.

I'm glad I didn't go.

Is it selfish that I can't handle it ?

The boss and I went to the hospital tonight (we've been going on a regular basis since Dave was admitted on the 20th) and this time we were packing a hot meal.  The food they get in the hospital is total crap!

We took him in a rotisserie chicken roast from the hometown chicken place just down the road.  Now, Dave has always had a huge appetite, ever since I've known and worked with him (4 years now).  He was only able to eat half and by the time he had finished he needed to go back onto oxygen.  We played a little trivial pursuit until I saw he was getting tired.  We had only been there for about 30 - 40 minutes and I could tell he was totally worn out.  We beat a retreat and walked down the 5 flights of stairs in silence.

We are a small company, and us office staff are a very tight knit group of people.  We consider ourselves to be more friends than colleagues and more like a family in the way we treat each other.  We have our moments, but we are very open people.  Nothing was ever solved by sulking so we make the most of our ability to speak.  We spit out our problems with each other at the time and get over it.

I've never been an open person, I've always thought it was a weakness to show emotion, I still do sometimes, but thats a hangover from the big ugly.  My boss is an open book, she says what she feels and shes always been open about her life.  We walked down the 5 flights of stairs to the car park in total silence.  My boss went to ask me something, I told her to shut up.

Thats where we left it.

I have never faced the loss of a loved one.  Dave is someone I genuinely care about, I love him as a friend.  He has confirmed secondary lung cancer and its killing him.  Slowly.

What do I do?  Spark up a ciggie and crank up the metallica in the car.

Go the big tough girl.  She's dying inside.