A bad day in a bad week each year.

What follows is for me, a thing I need to say somewhere, an annual cathartis that's become a form of ritual for me

I love you. I know I always will.  I know we both did many good and painful things to each other. I wish I could erase you from my life. 

That's not a thing I say lightly.  I fundamentally believe you are all the good and part parts of you story.  You can't undo one without the other.

But I would have never known you if I could.  Even knowing how unrecognisably different a person  that would make me.

The friends I wouldn't know, jobs and homes I wouldn't know.  How much less capable I'd think myself. I realise what I'd lose.

You entered my life for 3 months last year somehow and I destroyed friendships, I damaged others, I lost any chance I had with either of the guys I had something going with at the time.  The small bit of my psyche I'd started to rebuild in the time since I barely kept together.  Even now the cracks are still there, threatening to split any second.

I know you're bad for me. I know you destroy everything around you.  You found ways to strike at me even after we broke up, from miles away.  I also know know I've learnt to project many of my own demons onto you to keep myself alive. I hate everything about you, and yet.  I don't, and can't, fall out of love with people.  My brain doesn't work like that.  Once you get in, you're there, till the last star goes out.  I love you and would do whatever you asked, if you simply asked.  I hate myself for that.

I miss many other boys right now.  I make many mistakes and hurt many of those around me this time of year it seems.  But I hate remembering that we fell in love this time each year

One day, I might be lucky enough to be half the man I wanted to be for you, because that man was wanted to do incredible things in the world, believed that he could, and was willing to at least try, even of it might mean failing, or getting hurt.

The man I was when we first met could not even have dreamed of those things.

And it's a far cry from the man you ended up making me today.

As we kiss hard on the lips and swear this year will be better then the last...

Christmas is like being drunk because you have urges to text people you probably shouldn't in the spirit of goodwill and tidings of the season and all that.

No. 1 on the list that I definitely should NOT under any circumstances text is my ex, because he's still an asshole, and still doesn't even realise he's an asshole.  If he ever comes to the realisation he's the one that fucked up his life I might reconsider, but even then, his re-crashing through my life back in August didn't exactly end well for either me or him so I think my head has finally just learnt whatever happened, he's now an insanely toxic person.

No 2. #bermudaboy.   Who was an asshole, but an asshole that realised he made a mistake and made a pretty genuine apology and continues to reach out.  But that doesn't erase the hurt or the future doubt, plus he's still in Bermuda and until that changes there's not much that can happen there aside from just both hurting oursleves by wanting people we can't have.

No. 3: #travelguy and this is one I really SHOULD text because there was fun stuff happening with him and then I kinda dropped off the face of the earth for him when ex-recrash happened (see 1 above) and I'd should, and would really like to, try and apologise for doing that to him, especially as he was going through some rough shit at the time.  But I should text him later, when it won't just get lost in the Christmas deluge.

No 4: #boy1 who I wanna text, but that's just cause I want an excuse to flirt, and I'm sort of struggling to find ways to do that with him easily cause we don't really hang out.  A long game I still have every intention of playing, but I don't think this is the right move.  New Year's probably is.

No 5: my best friend from primary school, mostly as a last ditch effort.  He's dropped off everyone who knew him's radar and I haven't heard from him except seeing the occasional fb post of his in years.  Which sucks.  And yes dropping off the face of the earth is a frustratingly recurring problem with my friends which when you have anxiety and abandomnent issues from a personality disorder causes ALL SORTS of problems, but I never really give up on people, no matter how much I probably should at times (see, again, 1, above)


But Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, whatever it might be to the rest of you.

At least I said it finally

I don't quite have the confidence to send this direct, but I need an outlet and I mean it.  So if you see it somehow, that's okay.


I'm aware it's 4am, I'm aware I'm drunk, but hell it's giving me the confidence to do this.   It's a shame I didn't get to see you at Lauren's wedding, it would have been nice to clear things between us somewhat; I always maintain the worst we could do is beat the hell out of each other and no one would be shocked at that.  I'm glad you saw FDC in New York, he appreciated it.  I hope Johnny is okay and I wish the best for you.  I may miss you, and love you, and hate you, but I still wish the best this twisted life will grant you.

Clear as day

My mental health has deteriorated massively again over the past few months.

I'm doing a good job of hiding it in many ways, but I'm acutely conscious that without warning, one day, one of the many fragile glass baubles in my life is going to hit the ground and shatter explosively and disastrously.

My emotions and moods go through 50 different changes a day, and yet there's an undercurrent of white hot hatred sitting through it all in my head the whole time, even when I laugh and smile, it's at the world not with it.

The borderline personality disorder is running rampant these days. The constant sense, or fear of abandonment rife in my thoughts, my social circles closed down to pretty much 3 people that I feel I constantly have to tease contact out of.  It's probably nothing like that at all, but I see it in everything.

And then of course there's the constant paranoia, combined with my own hyper analysis; the curse of too routinely having your worst suspicions proved right in the past to be able to ever convince yourself your doubt is misplaced.  Trust is something that's usually too wounded in my now to be of any good use to convincing myself my head is crazy.

Work isn't helping to be sure.  The last 6 weeks have been pretty god awful in a variety of ways.   Worse yet is the constant stream of commentary from just about every person in my life telling me I'm being undervalued - frankly, my who knows I'm fucking good at the things I do in life and few people could keep up with me, but having every single person in my life comment over the last few months on what they think I should be doing, funnily enough, makes me feel god awful.

I still lack for purpose or interest in living.  I never had a strong one to start with but I havent ever managed to regain anything concrete the past few years.  And I still lack confidence in my ability to fix that problem after the last time to bother trying to again

It's one of the reasons I've thrown myself so hard into the Lib Dems - it's pretty much the only thing I'm genuinely enjoying recently.  It's a distraction from every other voice in my head and hellish day, keeping me occupied for a bit, even if I have to be somewhat fanatical about the whole thing in order to achieve this.  And I've rarely had my skills and curiosity recognised and encouraged so readily.  But it's ultimately a overcompensation and facade hiding much deeper problems.

I still lack for a purpose or interest in living, years later nothing convinces me to stay except for the utter lack of confidence still in my ability to fix that problem after last time - a fact which no doubt causes comfort to friends, but feeds my own sense of abject failure and hatred at both myself and the world.

I go to work, I pay my bills, I go out, I see friends, I eat food, I plan for the future, I continue to manage all these things when I have no desire to because I have no idea how to fail nor would I ever be allowed to by an array of forces I find hostile and unwanted.

When it crashes down, don't say it was unexpected.  I've seen it coming for miles.

Still wondering...

You're supposed to care. 
About life. 
In some way.
It's supposed to mean something to you.
To live.
You're supposed to keep wanting and trying to do that.

You try to connect with people, and pretend that things have meaning or impact any more than some artificial, ephemeral, momentary set of chemicals firing synapses lighting up neurons and assuring you that yes you do feel and care and for once maybe, or at long last it finally matters in even the most cursory and selfish way.

But it doesn't.
You don't.
Those moments and people go by and they have no more meaning 30 seconds later when out of view than they will in death.

We can all pretend and even get good at it and forget even to ourselves how insipid it is.  Or you can spend your waking and sleeping hours with a million different voices telling you every moment of every day how long ago you stopped caring, when you stopped believing, or trying, or finding a reason to fight and carry on, and now your existence is largely a product of resigned apathy that your lack of motivation has become so ingrained you no longer can bring yourself enough to care to change it in either direction.

You're supposed to care.
But I still can't see why on earth I need to anymore.

Personal Pronouns

Theresa May posts on Facebook and Twitter:
"If I lose just six seats I will lose this election..."

Firstly, note the use of I, not the Conservative Party.
But more importantly, this shows just how ridiculous it is that the Conservatives should be so complacent about this election when their position is in fact so tenuous as to be not just in danger, but eliminated if they lose a mere 6 seats

May is so self-assured of her victory that she is campaigning on a manifesto that even includes restarting the fox hunting debate, taking lunches away from school children, and bringing in flawed voter ID and internet censorship laws.
As one friend pointed out: "if these are their campaign promises, what the hell are they planning to sneak in quietly after the election?!"

6 seats isn't many and some good strong tactical voting could cause May and the Tories to rethink their positions as a result.

If you vote Conservative in this election, you will get May for the long haul.
If you vote Conservative, you will get Hard Brexit with no final say by the public and a very limited say even by our elected representatives.
If you vote Conservative you get someone who prioritises foxhunting over the NHS.
If you vote Conservative you will get an increasingly authoritarian and invasive state, far worse than anything the EU ever regulated.
If you vote Conservative you will have no guarantee that the changes Brexit brings will still leave you with 28 days holiday, the right to paid leave, or to discuss your working hours, or retain your job when you are sick for a long time.
If you vote Conservative, you will get confirm that it's not about the Conservatives, it is about Theresa May, her personal vision of dystopia, and those 6 seats.

For the love of all god(s),

#anyonebutthetories

Skies of darkest blue

A friend posted this today which struck a chord:
https://unguardedweb.wordpress.com/2017/05/12/behind-dark-clouds-and-silver-linings/

I'm doing better than him.  Mentally at least.  But I have a whole host of problems, physical and mental, and every day I run up against blocks that remind me I'm forced to adapt, and in many cases, limit, my life.

There's the daily pills that keep my immune system from collapsing.
There's being audibly wheezing from he stairs to my friend's place after going up and down them twice whilst helping them move out.
There's the constant question in the back of my head, that maybe I have to accept that a mid level 9-5 office job is the best that's sustainable for me mentally, despite how that infurirates me in its own ways.
There's the days when I sit for 2 hours at a train station because I'm in so much pain I can't move to get home and I just have to wait it out
There's learning, long ago, how to get through 2 or 3 days at a time on no sleep, because it happens so regularly I couldn't classify it as sick time and keep a job.

He's right - you just accept it.  You have to.  You occasionally wonder at all the things you could do if you didn't constantly adjust your life just so you can get through your days without breaking down in some way.  But that doesn't stop it from being the case.

I tweet about my cramps
But I sit there, for 2 hours, in the cold and the wet.
Until I can move again.