Several months with no posts, and then 2 in one day, I know I threatened to be sporadic, but this is just taking the biscuit really, isn't it.
Well, I've just had one of my homecoming heart-to-heart/massive rows which only happen with families. It began as a row over my new piercing and cycled through my dropping out of college, my mental health, my unemployment, my lack of future plans. All the while my mother getting frustrated because, to her, I have no plans and am just hopelessly careening about in life, whereas I am frantically trying to explain that yes, I have made mistakes, and yes, I have plans, they are just taking longer because currently, I'm being fiercely independant about them. the last time I was being funded by someone else, didn't work out well for anyone involved, least of all me.
There was shouting, there were many, many tears on my part (Yes, I am still crying a bit now.) and there were some serious re-evaluation on both sides. We've come to the part where we realise that we are simply two extremely different people, and we will have to come to terms with that. We got over it, it's done for now.
Then, we came to the hardest bit for me. The bit where we talk about me getting a job and living as an adult, alone and independent. I want this, I want it SO badly that it pains me to still be here, I cringe inside everytime that I have to ask someone to help me out. Because to me, every thing that I cannot do or achieve 100% on my own, is a failure. Every job I apply for that never gets back to me; failure. Every interview I do that I don't get the job for; failure. When my contract didn't get extended at my last job; failure. I take it so badly, and so personally, and I don't know why. Alright, I'm an emotional person, but no-one's this emotional!
So I cried, and explained, and cried, and we came up with ideas, for ways in which I can make money to get me towards doing the course that I want, so I can get a better job, so I can get out, on my own, living how I want to be. Some of them were excellent ideas (some were terrible. Yes, prostitution and drug dealing were options I came up with, no I didn't voice these to my mother.) including the one where I do something which I actually enjoy, which relates to what I want to do later in life, and which could make me a fair bit of money. (No, not prostitution. Yes, I am still attempting to be humourous while mascara streams down my face...) But here's the problem. I am now so afraid of failing in this, because it's the thing that I really want to do, that I am almost too afraid to try. I am terrified that once I attempt to do something that actually means something to me, that one setback will mean I give up, and fail, and have to start all over again.
I know that I need to toughen up, I know that I need to get out there and do what I want to do, or at least work towards it. I think in some part, my actually typing this up and putting it out here, is one of my attempts at going through with it. That if someone reads this, I'll be forced to follow through on it. I guess this is a cross between an emotional release, an attempt at bullying myself and asking for support.
But right now. I think I just need a hug...
As always,
Love,
B. x
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Well, a lot of stuff's been happening....
So hello there internet people.
I've been awfully remiss in my posting, and I apologise profusely, but the real world interfered with my Internet life. How incredibly rude of it!
Shortly after my last post, I began working fulltime, in an office! I had real office clothes, and a desk and everything. I don't know if other people get as excited as I do about having their own desk, but it was a magical time for me. I really enjoyed working, even though I had a 2 hour commute each way. Which was a real bitch in the snow, let me tell you. I think working suits me far better than sitting about doing nothing. there's something fulfilling about coming home exhausted at the end of the day, and even more fulfilling about finding a bank account with money in it at the end of the month. :D
Anyhow, as fun as it was, it was only a temporary contract, so even though it was extended twice, eventually, at the end of January, we went our separate ways, so I am back to being a lady of leisure, frantically searching for a job.
During that time I ended up having lots of funny incidents and dealing with the crazy amount of snow on the commute was probably the best/worst of them all. the most eventful of these happened on one fateful Wednesday morning. I was staying in Boyfriend's house, and he had to coax, threaten, cajole and bribe me to get out of bed and into the cold that morning. I took the bus into town, semi-unconscious still, my body does not react well to cold, and then made my way slowly and carefully over the snow and ice to the Luas for the final leg of my journey.
I was 2 steps away from being safely on the Luas when the next thing I knew, I was flat on my back on the ground. the Luas platform was one huge sheet of ice, with no grit, or salt or anything on it to protect the poor frozen travellers on their journeying.
I was in a state of absolute shock, when you're young, you fall all the time, you get up, you keep running and shouting and falling all over again, when you hit 20 or so, you generally have become used to your body, you know where your feet are and how to use them, and so mostly you only fall when you're drunk, and cushioned by alcohol. This was 8:20 in the morning, stone cold sober, and just stone cold meteorologically speaking too. (Warning: meteorologically speaking = private joke, but is also appropriate for this statement)
Anyhow, I got up and hobbled across the road to a café and sat down in their outdoor smoking area section. As soon as my ass hit that bright orange seat, I began shaking and tears just streamed from my eyes, it was a combination of pain, shock and utter utter embarrassment. Everyone had seen me fall, I felt so foolish and childish, but I was also seriously injured.
The one thing which made this any better was the wamrth of the wonderful people who came to my rescue. People from outside of big cities always comment on how us City People don't know our neighbours, and are more likely to roll over and sleep if we hear an alarm go off, rather than to try and help. Well, to them I say, pah! Yes, pah! and a Pfft for good measure. A group of women sitting outside all immediately did their very best to help me. Demanding that I not go to work, bringing me hot tea from inside, checking if I had been seriously hurt, even going so far as offering to call my boss and tell him what had happened. It was a wonderful moment during a dreadful morning.
I recovered enough to be coherent, though I couldn't stop shaking, I called work, called Boyfriend and tried to move into the café to be warmer and to figure out how to get home. It was only when I moved that I realised just how much I had hurt. My back was one stiff ache, my knee was throbbing, the back of my head felt nauseatingly loose and numb and my left elbow was all shaken up. Inside, with the help of one lovely waitress who loaned me her phone, and even went to the hotel next door to call me a taxi, I made it back to boyfriend's house. I lay on the couch and figured that I'd just need to rest. The next afternoon, I was still dizzy, still felt ill and in pain and I knew something was wrong.
One trip to the GP later and I was on my way to hospital where I sat and waited, and sat and waited. I was given painkillers, told my elbow might be fractured (yet again, I have hyperextension in both elbows, look it up) and that I definitely had a concussion, but not to worry, if it had been THAT serious, I woul;d have gone into a coma in my sleep that night before. Several hours later, I learned that I needed to get a CAT scan to check that I didn't have a sneaky fracture in my skull, apparently, they can be quite devious little bastards. Unfortunately, there was no time for that until the next morning, so I spent the night attempting to sleep on a chair in the middle of an A+E ward. To anyone who's been there, you know what it's like. To anyone who hasn't, don't do it. Exhaustion and being surrounded by other ill people, and rushing nurses, and bright lights, loud noises and out of any sort of comfort zone, takes its toll on you. I found myself bursting into tears because I couldn't open an orange juice bottle.
Once again, I was rescued by some truly lovely people. An Italian man swooped down, opened my drink for me, and gallantly ignored the fact that I was crying. We talked about Italy, about singing, about cooking, about how lucky we were compared to other people in there. He was wonderful, full of natural joy, no embarassment about anything, and just bursting with charm. While I waited all morning to be taken for a scan, I also met an Elderly lady who had been there a good deal longer than either of us, and didn't seem likely to be leaving anytime soon. We swapped recipes, I still have to try to make her secret Apple Crumble, we told stories, and I sang her a Scottish folk song, just because it made her smile.
Later that day I left with a bruised skull, a shaken elbow (take that fractures! B-2 Fractures-0) but also with a huge feeling of thanks and love towards people. Yes, there are lots of idiotic dreadful people out there, but there are also just some truly good people. People who will do what they can for one another simply because it makes someone's life a little easier. Helping someone through a rough time is one of the most beautiful things a person can do, and it's something I pride myself on doing for my friends whenever necessary, but I will admit, I had never thought of doing it for strangers. Well, I've been working hard to remember this incident, and to keep it with me. I'm not saying I'm now a saint, going out of my way to help everyone and do everything for them. But I do try harder to pay attention to what's going on around me and to make everyone's day a little easier.
Well, that was an awfully long, moral-soaked feel good story, so the rest of this post will just be a brief update.
Since the beginning of February, I have been jobless, and pretty much penniless, but, on the whole, I have very few complaints about the last 2 weeks.
I have been creative, making jewellery and my costume for Bella's Steampunk Cabaret: http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/event.php?eid=168325079861462 Which looks to be a fantastic eclectic event, and I can't wait for it. I've been very recently learning to play the Ukulele, which Boyfriend bought for me this weekend just past. I've been altering and repairing clothes, and considering several Vlog enterprises. The latest, and most likely of which, is to be nearly a Companion Vlog to the wonderful Alanna's Verbosity Vlog: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=51o2uWm3cEg Her's is about little used words in the English language, and lots of Alanna-style insanity thrown in. Mine will be about my favourite little oddities in other languages, and I will start work on it as soon as I finish this post.
I have a new piercing, once again funded by the wonderful Boyfriend, a vertical Labret piercing, which is healing beautifully, and soon I will take a picture of it, in which I don't look like a squinting, shocked fool, but until then, this will have to do.
Yesterday was the beloved and be-loathed Valentine's Day. Yes, yes, it's dreadful, it's commercial, it's tacky, but it's a day to celebrate love! Love in all its forms, for a boyfriend, girlfriend, wife, parent, pet, artist, song, book, whatever you do adore with all your heart, whatever makes you cry and laugh at the same time, and I support that entirely. Boyfriend and I had a wonderfully romantic evening with a Chinese takeaway, watching Blade II with his housemates. Not everyone's idea of perfect, but to me, it was. Surrounded by people I love, watching something hilarious, eating yummy food, laughing and loving.
(Boyfriend also got me chocolates, a gorgeous deep red rose and a card which made me say Awwww for several minutes. See, we can do normal people romance too!).
I wish you all the best in all of your endeavours, and I'll do my best to keep you updated on my various quests, conquests, epiphanies and accidents.
Much love,
from my fingertips to yours,
B. x
P.S: Listen to Adele singing Someone Like You. It makes me happy in a hurty way.
I've been awfully remiss in my posting, and I apologise profusely, but the real world interfered with my Internet life. How incredibly rude of it!
Shortly after my last post, I began working fulltime, in an office! I had real office clothes, and a desk and everything. I don't know if other people get as excited as I do about having their own desk, but it was a magical time for me. I really enjoyed working, even though I had a 2 hour commute each way. Which was a real bitch in the snow, let me tell you. I think working suits me far better than sitting about doing nothing. there's something fulfilling about coming home exhausted at the end of the day, and even more fulfilling about finding a bank account with money in it at the end of the month. :D
Anyhow, as fun as it was, it was only a temporary contract, so even though it was extended twice, eventually, at the end of January, we went our separate ways, so I am back to being a lady of leisure, frantically searching for a job.
During that time I ended up having lots of funny incidents and dealing with the crazy amount of snow on the commute was probably the best/worst of them all. the most eventful of these happened on one fateful Wednesday morning. I was staying in Boyfriend's house, and he had to coax, threaten, cajole and bribe me to get out of bed and into the cold that morning. I took the bus into town, semi-unconscious still, my body does not react well to cold, and then made my way slowly and carefully over the snow and ice to the Luas for the final leg of my journey.
I was 2 steps away from being safely on the Luas when the next thing I knew, I was flat on my back on the ground. the Luas platform was one huge sheet of ice, with no grit, or salt or anything on it to protect the poor frozen travellers on their journeying.
I was in a state of absolute shock, when you're young, you fall all the time, you get up, you keep running and shouting and falling all over again, when you hit 20 or so, you generally have become used to your body, you know where your feet are and how to use them, and so mostly you only fall when you're drunk, and cushioned by alcohol. This was 8:20 in the morning, stone cold sober, and just stone cold meteorologically speaking too. (Warning: meteorologically speaking = private joke, but is also appropriate for this statement)
Anyhow, I got up and hobbled across the road to a café and sat down in their outdoor smoking area section. As soon as my ass hit that bright orange seat, I began shaking and tears just streamed from my eyes, it was a combination of pain, shock and utter utter embarrassment. Everyone had seen me fall, I felt so foolish and childish, but I was also seriously injured.
The one thing which made this any better was the wamrth of the wonderful people who came to my rescue. People from outside of big cities always comment on how us City People don't know our neighbours, and are more likely to roll over and sleep if we hear an alarm go off, rather than to try and help. Well, to them I say, pah! Yes, pah! and a Pfft for good measure. A group of women sitting outside all immediately did their very best to help me. Demanding that I not go to work, bringing me hot tea from inside, checking if I had been seriously hurt, even going so far as offering to call my boss and tell him what had happened. It was a wonderful moment during a dreadful morning.
I recovered enough to be coherent, though I couldn't stop shaking, I called work, called Boyfriend and tried to move into the café to be warmer and to figure out how to get home. It was only when I moved that I realised just how much I had hurt. My back was one stiff ache, my knee was throbbing, the back of my head felt nauseatingly loose and numb and my left elbow was all shaken up. Inside, with the help of one lovely waitress who loaned me her phone, and even went to the hotel next door to call me a taxi, I made it back to boyfriend's house. I lay on the couch and figured that I'd just need to rest. The next afternoon, I was still dizzy, still felt ill and in pain and I knew something was wrong.
One trip to the GP later and I was on my way to hospital where I sat and waited, and sat and waited. I was given painkillers, told my elbow might be fractured (yet again, I have hyperextension in both elbows, look it up) and that I definitely had a concussion, but not to worry, if it had been THAT serious, I woul;d have gone into a coma in my sleep that night before. Several hours later, I learned that I needed to get a CAT scan to check that I didn't have a sneaky fracture in my skull, apparently, they can be quite devious little bastards. Unfortunately, there was no time for that until the next morning, so I spent the night attempting to sleep on a chair in the middle of an A+E ward. To anyone who's been there, you know what it's like. To anyone who hasn't, don't do it. Exhaustion and being surrounded by other ill people, and rushing nurses, and bright lights, loud noises and out of any sort of comfort zone, takes its toll on you. I found myself bursting into tears because I couldn't open an orange juice bottle.
Once again, I was rescued by some truly lovely people. An Italian man swooped down, opened my drink for me, and gallantly ignored the fact that I was crying. We talked about Italy, about singing, about cooking, about how lucky we were compared to other people in there. He was wonderful, full of natural joy, no embarassment about anything, and just bursting with charm. While I waited all morning to be taken for a scan, I also met an Elderly lady who had been there a good deal longer than either of us, and didn't seem likely to be leaving anytime soon. We swapped recipes, I still have to try to make her secret Apple Crumble, we told stories, and I sang her a Scottish folk song, just because it made her smile.
Later that day I left with a bruised skull, a shaken elbow (take that fractures! B-2 Fractures-0) but also with a huge feeling of thanks and love towards people. Yes, there are lots of idiotic dreadful people out there, but there are also just some truly good people. People who will do what they can for one another simply because it makes someone's life a little easier. Helping someone through a rough time is one of the most beautiful things a person can do, and it's something I pride myself on doing for my friends whenever necessary, but I will admit, I had never thought of doing it for strangers. Well, I've been working hard to remember this incident, and to keep it with me. I'm not saying I'm now a saint, going out of my way to help everyone and do everything for them. But I do try harder to pay attention to what's going on around me and to make everyone's day a little easier.
Well, that was an awfully long, moral-soaked feel good story, so the rest of this post will just be a brief update.
Since the beginning of February, I have been jobless, and pretty much penniless, but, on the whole, I have very few complaints about the last 2 weeks.
I have been creative, making jewellery and my costume for Bella's Steampunk Cabaret: http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/event.php?eid=168325079861462 Which looks to be a fantastic eclectic event, and I can't wait for it. I've been very recently learning to play the Ukulele, which Boyfriend bought for me this weekend just past. I've been altering and repairing clothes, and considering several Vlog enterprises. The latest, and most likely of which, is to be nearly a Companion Vlog to the wonderful Alanna's Verbosity Vlog: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=51o2uWm3cEg Her's is about little used words in the English language, and lots of Alanna-style insanity thrown in. Mine will be about my favourite little oddities in other languages, and I will start work on it as soon as I finish this post.
I have a new piercing, once again funded by the wonderful Boyfriend, a vertical Labret piercing, which is healing beautifully, and soon I will take a picture of it, in which I don't look like a squinting, shocked fool, but until then, this will have to do.
Yesterday was the beloved and be-loathed Valentine's Day. Yes, yes, it's dreadful, it's commercial, it's tacky, but it's a day to celebrate love! Love in all its forms, for a boyfriend, girlfriend, wife, parent, pet, artist, song, book, whatever you do adore with all your heart, whatever makes you cry and laugh at the same time, and I support that entirely. Boyfriend and I had a wonderfully romantic evening with a Chinese takeaway, watching Blade II with his housemates. Not everyone's idea of perfect, but to me, it was. Surrounded by people I love, watching something hilarious, eating yummy food, laughing and loving.
(Boyfriend also got me chocolates, a gorgeous deep red rose and a card which made me say Awwww for several minutes. See, we can do normal people romance too!).
I wish you all the best in all of your endeavours, and I'll do my best to keep you updated on my various quests, conquests, epiphanies and accidents.
Much love,
from my fingertips to yours,
B. x
P.S: Listen to Adele singing Someone Like You. It makes me happy in a hurty way.
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