Ho Ho Ho

Well Merry Christmas everyone.
Especially to all those sneeky at work blog readers and writers who I won't 'see' till the New Year rolls by again.
Be good, and here's hoping there's no coal.

Thought of the day..

Ever wonder about those people who spend a fortune on those little bottles of Evian water?
Try spelling Evian backwards.

PLEE TO ALL NORTH WEST DRIVERS

[rant]
The amber or yellow light means get ready. When combined with the red it means get ready to go on green. When green light is gone, and the yellow is lit... this means slow down and get ready to stop. This should happen preferably before the red light shows.
This yellow light does not mean push peddle to the metal.
This yellow light does not indicate a need to speed up and produce a sonic boom.
And on no account does the red light have a three second on system where it's OK to speed through as long as you are within the three seconds.
The gap between the lights changing at various interchanges is not so that you can perform a trans dimensional time warp barrier and fly across to catch the meat n potato pie man before he sells out.
It's for safety, occasionally for pedestrians crossing (something you cannot always tell when going at 70 miles per hour), and sometimes to allow the traffic that has been waiting in the middle of the road to turn right before they are mown down by other pie seeking motorists.
I have been to many places, and never have i experienced such bad driving as the Mancunians. Even in Spain where there are record deaths along the Carra Terra motorway thing (can only pronounce it) the driving is better and more courteous.
So pack it in you fucking nutters!
[/rant]

I thank you.

M.I.A. [or] Where are my wellies? I want to walk across a meadow.

Excuse my leave of absence.
I have been horribly busy. Getting the place sorted in the count down to Christmas.
My head's currently in a strange place too but there it may well stay for awhile. It's not an unpleasent place so that's an improvement.

It's funny.

My mum and my brother have both had somewhat similar conversations with me about my decision to go and seek medical help.
Neither of them understand why, and both think i'm jumping the gun on this. To be honest I think my boyfriend might think that too, even though he wouldn't and hasn't said anything. He's so supportive bless him. Even though he has his own shit to deal with right now. My boyfriend shouldn't have to hear my lame problems when he's the one who needs my support through his own stuff.
Although I do tell him things. I do. While we are together though I never feel down or disheartened, so i sort of enjoy every minute of it. Soaking it up to savour later when we are apart. I never even think about the bad stuff.
We don't see each other enough.

My mum is just infuriating to talk to on this level. Think of a real life version of the Monty Python sketch where there are a group of old men sat round a table out doing each other with their tales of woe.
"Well, in my day we were so poor that we lived in a cardboard box etc"

Several times i have started a conversation with something like:
"I've been feeling really low today..."
"Ah you think you've been feeling low? Well try me cause I've been through this and that blah"
"I felt like crying today over so and so"
"I feel like crying every hour of every day my girl but I go on blah"
"I didn't sleep properly last night again, bad dreams"
"Well I was up and down to the toilet last night at least three times.. worst night blah blah"

Thing is see.. I'm very good at papering over the cracks. An expert really. Always been able to pop on one of those masks that other people bang on about. Put up a front.
Couple that with suffering from a touch of self esteem issues, and being British with our stiff upper lip and throw a cup of tea at it and it'll get better attitude, and you have a recipe for someone who's reluctant to talk about failings and fears. Especially when things are supposed to be getting better. Part and parcel of it all though isn't it. High expectations lead to long drops. And it isn't even as though my life is worse than it was six months ago. It's not. There are so many aspects of my life that are fantastic.

It's like having a dial attached to my brain. A happy dial i guess. And next to it is needle which shows the output of 'good things in my life' that are happening. To be in balance and 'normal' the dial should correspond to the needle.
But my dial is cranked midway to 'iffy' and stuck there, even though my Good Things needle is faffing happily up the top end. And it aint a good thing for the dial when the needle occasionally gets a drop I can tell you. And I know its stuck and not working. I know i should have that sucker cranked half way to the moon because things are lookin good. Knowing almost makes it worse because i feel very stupid, pathetic, lame, and angry for being so rubbish. But knowing is the thing that means I can nip it in the bud before things escalate.
Hopefully having some medical help will mean that the dial is artificially shifted a notch into line, until i'm capable of keeping it there myself.

You dig me?

My temporary catching net? Six months of low dose citalpram.
It's ok.
I just gotta iron the kinks out of life for awhile.

Confessions of a dance whore...

I actually enjoyed watching Take That on The Royal Variety thing on BBC one tonight!
That's so abhorent. I'm sorry.
(They don't half age well though, and are really good live!)
(sorry sorry sorry)
(it's ok.. the doc has put me on meds)

Dot Dash Dot

Right.
I've bitten the bullet and made an emergancy appointment for the doctors this afternoon to get some anti depressents.
I can't cope.
Well.. i am coping, but on such a fine knife edge that things that aren't important are slipping over the side. I mean I am 'doing things'. Going to college. Trying to sort out a decent future for me and the ankle biters. Doing the evening class again. And yes i have decided to go ahead with the whole year. My previous lapse was as a result of this current situation in my head. I know this. And refuse to burn my bridges and jeopardise my oppertunities because of it.
But i'm so beyond really coping.
Teetering on the brink of falling apart to be honest.
It's not a healthy way to live... and i need help.

As an illustration, here are some of the reasons why I cried this morning:

- I opened my mail yesterday and caught sight of the council tax reminder notice again this morning telling me i have 7 days left.
- When I remembered the fact that they [council] lost my two very important letters from the college stating my hours as a student to decrease my council tax. I despair at the thought of trying to get new copies off my tutor and sending them again. It took two months last time.
- I looked at the washing up in the sink.
- I applied for a MINT card because of previously mentioned money situation knowing that it really isn't going to work due to student status. Feelings of futility came after the '60 second answer' told me they'd contact me in 7 days. Somewhat telling.
- When I tried to text my friend at college to say I couldn't make it in this morning and couldn't predictive text spell the word 'secretary'.
- Sat on the floor by the Christmas tree blow drying my hair in my lounge/makeshift bedroom whilst thinking of all the work I have to finish this week for art college (that won't happen) and all the things left to do in the next two weeks before Christmas. It was then that I decided to phone the doctors.

These tearful episodes happened in the space of two hours.
I feel like my smile muscle has up and left.

I'm not a scrooge though. I love Christmas really. Although hate not knowing what to get for people.
I think most of this is money worries compounded by the fact that i've half a house that fights to be fixed and impending art projects due in that i have to get merit or above in.
I've uploaded a load of house pictures to show what's going on. The previous owner really loved her terracotta:

Are you listening God?

I just found an advert in my inbox from Oral B saying 'Upgrade your smile!'

Is someone up there taking the piss or what?

Hey, did any of you watch that simply sublime drama on Sunday night 'Housewife 49'?
Talk about you're original blogger. Well, one close to home and dramatised on telly. The row she had with her husband about why she has to write her daily scribblings and send them off for strangers to read was the best bit of tv i've seen in years. It was like every argument anyone's ever had about my blogging 'habit'. And my responses have been the same. Vague but strong!
When confronted by my ex about blogging (which he occasionally does when he feels beligerant) and threatened with this or that legal action, I just feel like screaming at the top of my lungs "FREEDOM OF SPEECH".
I have the right to write.
I have to write.
So I can't tell you how much I loved that section in the drama last night.
It was perfect.

Carpenter With Issues had another issue himself with my skirts. Skirting boards that is. So now i have to get another plumber and plasterer round, before he can come back again. All this week. Ya reckon? I can't talk about it. I'm that upset. Since September this has been going on. I've not had a full house in the evenings here since then. It's not right. And it just HAS to be ready well before Christmas day. The fucking gloss has to dry man!

Got three art projects to finish this week too. Ceramics one is almost there. Last few things like an evaluation and research bits. My 'fruit' is finished and waiting to be refired with its glazes on. I can't wait. Stupidly excited about it. I have romantic notions of become Britains next top ceramist like Kate Malone. In between romantic notions of being Britains next top fine artist, illustrator, and satirical novelist.
There are two projects i'm going to struggle to finish though. Or three. Bollocks.

I am actually shitting it...

1. Bleeding orifice - check
2. Forty min dental app for fillings - check
3. Uncomfortable tension with carpenter forced to come round and do a bit so things are done for christmas even though he's not been working because his mother suddenly has lukemia - check
4. Meant to be at college extra this morning because a million projects are due in this week, but can't due to dental thing - check
5. College in afternoon feeling scummy with no hair washed and half a mouth full of frozen face dribbling - check
6. No food as no time all day till 3 - check
7. Get into rush hour traffic for an hour and sit through boring evening class for two hours - check

Oh bugger.

Silver Christmas For me!

I have paint in places of my body that don't have names.
But...
The two new bedrooms upstairs are tantilisingly close to getting their occupants back safely within them. And it's about bleedin' time.
Speaking of bleeding... I am. My belly hurts. Uncouth aren't I!

I was walking out of Morrisons just now with my Mum, and everything was quite calm and slightly surreal. I came over all homey and had a real sence of belonging. I don't have them often, and I think it's taken me much longer than it should have to feel like this town is my home. My mother said it felt like home to her ages ago, so she's well up on me in that respect. But it's like i told her, I moved here with certain ideals and hopes and positive vibes. These were all ripped rather cruelly assunder by an Ex who I now barely remember exists. But it left this bad vibe. Bad emotions attached to this place. This town. This whole north of England to be honest. His act undone me. Tore down a lot of what I had rebuilt mentally after leaving my longterm Ex of eleven years.
So everything about this area was tainted. A bad smell.
It's nearly two years now. (Feels like a lifetime)
And sometimes I feel like i'm home.

Tomorrow I will be going to one of four forty minute dental appointments for fillings. I expect to resemble this afterwards:

Sickly.. send fruit and chicken soup.

I'm a tad unwell. I think I need one of these: