Yet another dream

I had another one of my dreams last night. It felt so real. It's insane how I want this to happen to me. This can not be normal.

I can still feel and remember the entire thing in detail. These dreams are dreams that I alway's remember in detail. Other dreams fade, but not these. These dreams awake something up inside of me. Make me feel real. Isn't it insane the way that for me to feel real I have to dream, be alseep. That is not normal at all. I know that, we all know that. But I can't help the way I feel.

Germany was bad. It didn't do much for me. I became really depressed at one point, and thought about cutting myself. In fact the only thing that stopped me was my inability to find something to cut myself with. I cried and cried. I couldn't cope. I had to spend one day locked in my room crying and sleeping to feel even slightly better. Then I drank myself to sleep. I have to find a better way of dealing with these feelings.

I also have some other news, but that needs to wait unti next week. I promised I would tell people until I have told one special person. One I've told them I will blab it all to the world.

Update

Things are going okay. My parish priest has gone away for a while and hopfully this will mean that my mother will relax a wee bit and will manage to climb the ever increasing mountain of paper work that appears on her desk. With the priest being so ill, mam has found it hard to get any work done, he wants things read to him (since his eye sight is shot), he wants the know what's going on so Mam keeps running up and down the stairs doing what ever it is he needs, but this means that the mountain is not being scaled.

She came home last night, she managed to finish to files. She only has another 10 to go!

I'm sitting in my office, desperately trying to get my report written but I have no enegy to do it whatsoever. I just want to sleep, relax and find out what the hell is wrong with my computer. Currently I am at work typing this, procrastinating from my report.

Never mind, having my legs waxes later on today, and next thursday I fly out to Germany for World Youth Day for 12 days. Life's not all bad, at times.

I've had one hell of a week

I have to appoligise for the state of this post, but I have had almost half a bottle of wine on an empty stomach.

Before you read on there are two facts you need to know:
1. I have been taking St. John's wart for te past couple of days
2. You shouldn't drink while on this stuff.
Appoligise here and now in advance, I'm going to regret this in the moringl.

OUr parish priest was taken ill into hospital at the beginning of this week. He is in his late 60s, he's doing a highly stressful job (he's not just a parish priest), yesterday we discovered he has indeed had a stroke, but this afternoon he was allowed home. This doesn't supprise me, he doesn't like NHS hospital, so as soon as he could he came home. He can't see to well, it seams to be the only think that this stroke has affected, his sight I mean.

So he was at home this evening. While he was in hospital I didn't push to see him, although every part of me was aching too. Now he was home I almost demanded I see him. It's not like he's an aquaintance to the family. He is a family member to me, an uncle, a grandfather, a father. It's really hard to explain my relationship with him, but needless to say he is a close family member. So he is now home and I went to see him. He looks so well, better than he has looked in quite a while. The only thing is he can't see too well. If you want to him to see anything you have to place it in front of him, even then it's not in focus. So we were sitting around the table and the wine was open. I don't drink wine, but on this occation I thought I would. I liked this wine so I drank half a bottle. I haven't eaten since lunch (even then it wasn't a great lunch, Crisps and a bakewell tart). Add to that the St John's wart the wine has gone to my head.

I am glad too see him. Everything is still in the air but I feel more positive for the future, this doesn't not mean however that I will stop taking St. John's wart (what a name for an anti depressant).

In a way I'm glad I was confortable to start taking the St. John's again, but a bigger part of me is heart broken that I wasn't strong enough to cope with what's been going on by myself. I alway's seam to have to turn to the medication to cope with anything. This sucks because it proves that I am not strong, if fact I am a wimp. Can't deal with anything life throws at me. It really does suck.

Usually I won't touch alchohl but I felt I needed it after the week I've had, I just couldn't cope without it any more, which of cause has made me feel worse, espcially since I have st. John's in my system. Why can't I be stronger? No one else had to to take anything to cope, but I do. I'm just a waste of space. Nothing I do is right, nothing I plan works right. I hate it.

All I want to do with my life is be a Catholic Youth Worker within a parish. It's not a major request but God keeps testing my faith, and I'm not sure I'm going to past this one. I've gone through a lot with my faith over the year, trusting that God knows better, that I am doing the right thing. I have questioned God's way, I have got angry at him, I have HATED him, but I've alway's gone back. How many more times must I go through these tests until he is done with me?

When is it my turn to feel contented?

When is it my turn to feel happy with my life?

There are times I really dispise being me?

Old Aquaintances

Once again my past came and haunted me. There was a girl there who I used to go to school with. She was a year younger than me. Now we got on very well, but she alway's had this 'holyer than thou' complex about her. I don't think she meant anything by it, but her mother was always the same. I think part of it was that this girl came from a well to do background, private schooling, only child and had two parents. While I on the other hand was single parent, state school and we were brought up on benefits. She always had an air about her, looking down her nose at us. I really don't think she even knows she does it. All the same though, it bugged me, but I didn't want to rock the boat, in those day's having anyone being nice to me, I accepted. Regardless of the strings attached, I was just happy that someone was being nice.

Tonight I went for a reading of a play that I'm hoping to be apart of. Which was a lot of fun and there is a number of parts I'll happily go for. This girl was there. Once again she looked down her nose at me. She really was quite condesending, on a number of occations. I was civil, but these day's it doesn't matter if she's my friend or not, all I need to do is be civil. And I was. Why do these people have to come back and haunt me, bring up old memories I don't need to rememeber. LIfe really can suck at times.

Update

I've had problems sleeping over the past week or so, not because I'm awake but because I was fretting over the test results. It really doesn't bother me what ever would be wrong, weather it's my kidneys, liver, thyroid or iron levels. None of it bothered me, I knew I could deal with it. What made me frett was the fact if it was my liver or my kidney, chances were I caused the damage with all the times I OD back at college. If it was indeed my fault, I would then have to admit to my mother what I had done. I have never, ever told her about the ODing, although I had told her about the cutting. I couldn't cope telling her about the ODing, the suicide attempts etc. I couldn't bare to see that look of disappointment on her face.

So my bloods came back, everythings normal, there is nothing wrong. They are still awaiting one more test result. I have to phone up tomorrow to find out if it's back. If that shows nothing wrong, I wonder what they'll do next. I really can't cope with being tired like this for much longer.

Cancer

I have had these marks on my breast area for some time, and a few months ago I went to the doctor to have them sussed out. I was scared they were cancer. She didn't know what they were and told me to go without a bra as often as I can. So I did. Over the last month two of these marks have changed colour and shape. I got a wee bit concerned all over again. So I went to the doctors this morning. He told me they were warts. Nothing to worry about and that eventually my body would get rid of them naturally.

The thing is when I was depressed, I couldn't kill myself. I just didn't have the guts. So instead I prayed for Cancer. No one in my family (on either side) has ever survived this disease, so I thought this would be a great way out. It would look like I'm fighting, but really I would die. These day's, although I still have bad days, I don't want life to end. When I thought I had skin cancer I was scared, I was scared that my prayers (of old) had been answered. I really don't want to die. I want to live. Yes, I wish my life was different, and that I was more content with my life but these are areas I can work on. I pray each day that I can be content and that God will show me what I need to do, and I pray that I can place myself in God's hands and his plans for me, and I pray that I have the courage to go through with what he's asking of me. I don't want to die, and I certainly don't want cancer.

I have to have blood tests anyway because I can't seam to wake up lately. Anytime night or day, I could happily fall asleep so the doctors are checking my blood and urine to see if my thyroid, kidney and liver are all working correctly. I have the blood taken next week, then it's five working days for the results. In the meantime I have to struggle to stay awake. I really don't think I can cope if there is something really wrong with them. It would be my own fault from all the ODing I did at uni. I really would have no one to blame but myself. What have I done?

Self-Esteem

Self esteem is a funny old thing. At the weekend our music group played at a very special mass, it was the first holy communion mass. So many people can up to me saying how fantastic the music was, how much they enjoyed it, how it was really suitable for the day. I was happy, embaressed by happy. I felt so high I felt I could fly. I was really glad it was enjoyed by all. Then it happened, One person, just One person made a comment about how they wanted to have the traditional hymns. Because of one persons comments I can crashing down to earth, and felt like I had failed. In essence that one persons comments should not affect how I feel about how everything went, because 99% of the people enjoyed the music, and believed it all fell into place nicely, and that it was appropriate. Because of one person comments I felt like shit. Because of one person I felt like I had failed. Because of one person I wanted to cry. It really shouldn't bother me but it does. I have low self esteem at the best of times, so when I feel good about myself I would really rather not have any negative comments said, because I take them to heart, and it's always those I remember.

I wish I wasn't like this. I wish I could only remember what the postive comments were, but I forget those so quickly, that all I have are the negative comments. Everytime I try and do something all those negative comments come back to haunt me, I hear them every time. I wish I could change.

I'm at a loss

I feel so alone in the world. Granted it's my fault, I'm the one who's fucked, I'm the one who's afraid of getting too close to people, who keeps backing away but equally people let me. I've mentioned this before but I am afraid of change, I'm afraid of new situations. It so my own fault I've become a loaner because my fear of new situation is cippling me. I love going to the cinema with people I already know, but when I get invited to parties etc. I back away instantly. Especially if I think alchohol is involved. I hate drunk people, and I hate being around alchohol, but that's a whole other story.

I'm in a job, I am failing at, and really am not enjoying, but can't find anyother work I want except voluntary work, which is tres annoying. I'm lonely. I'm miserably and I feel as though I'm about to explode. As most depressives would proberbly tell you it's the night times that are the worst. That's when I become really anti-me. I want to cry, but I'm to numb to. I want to scream, but nothing comes out. It's almost as if I'm feeling every negative emosion under the sun but I can't do anything about it. I'm just at a loss of what I should do. I have no safe place to let these feelings go, instead I'm doing the worse thing I can. I'm hiding them all from those around me and carring them around with me, every single day.

I'm at a loss.

Updating

I have to admit that things just don't seam to be getting better, but on the other hand things are not getting worse so that's something to hold on to. The weather at the moment is so erratic it's unreal. Within one hour almost you'll have torrenting rain, brilliant sunshine, strong winds and calm breezes. Even the temperature isn't constant. I am currently wearing a string top along with a full lenght cardy, and jeans. But also in my office I have a nice BIG warm jumper, because I keep going through insane temperature changes. Anyway that's beside the by, this weather is not helping my mood much.

I'm going out tonight so hopfully this will help my mood. It's also Friday tomorrow which means the weekend is almost upon us and I can do things on my computer which I have attempted to do all week but have failed to do because I've either been in meetings or I'm so tired I fall sleep.

My life's just great.

Up and Down

Today for the first time in what feels like forever the sun has come out. The sky has become blue, a few white clouds out, a true spring day. There's still a slight chill in the air though. Not really supprising as we had snow over there weekend, yes you read that right my dear readers, snow.. in April.

I always pick up when the sun is shining. The more the sun shines, the hotter the weather the happier I am, and the more energy I have. The problem is although it is nice to have the sun and it is sorta making me feel better I still hate the world and all that is in it. I still hate myself and what I have become. I wish I could feel better about myself but this isn't going to happen anytime soon, if it happens at all.

I'm 25 this year and I have accouplished very little with my life. I always thought I would be a mother perhaps a wife at this age, instead I've only just graduated uni, failed at her first job, single and nowhere near being a mother. And I'm still living with my mother. I love her, but I want my own space.

It's like a visious circle and I can't get out of it. The one saving grace though is the fact that I'm not cotemplating suicide or cutting myself, although every now and then I'll take a few pills just to numb the pain, but not enough to do anything major. At most I'll just bruise majorly if I walk into anything.

I have to get out of this depressing rut but I don't know how to, and I certainly don't want to become dependant upon medication to live my life. When people realise you're on meds for mental health everything changes. They treat you differently, they look at you differently. Maybe it's just me being parinoid but I can't deal with any of that.

That's why I've never told my mother the full truth about what I've been through. All she knows is that in the past I have suffered from depression and have been known to cut myself, but that's all she knows and all she'll ever know. She was so disappointed in my when I told her about the depression, I could hear it in her voice, and then she started to treat me differently. I couldn't stand it. So since then I've delt with it my way.

That is why I started this blog up. My other one too many people knew me in real life for me to be honest about my feelings. Even a family memeber found out about it, my fault, but still I decided then that I couldn't continue being honest on that blog, so it's lost it's allure somehow. I still post but it's not the same. This one is my blog, no one in my life knows about it, baring a few online friends.

Isn't it strange how much easier it is to write down your feels and post them on the net than it is to tell someone face to face.

I hate....

I hate this. I want to cry all the time. If I stop the noise for one moment, my eyes well up, and I can feel myself on the verge of crying hysterically. I think if I start crying now I won't ever stop. I think I would have a break down and that I would end up instratutionallised. That's the last thing I want. I've been threatened with sectioning once before. I don't want to do there again.

I know this is the point were I'm meant to be taking the pills to help me, but I don't want to go back on those pills. I don't want to feel as though I've failed again. I've had too much failer in my life. I don't want more.

I'm so afraid that someone will ask me how I'm doing and I'll let it all out. I will cry none stop. The thing is I can't even tell you why I want to cry, all I know is that's all I want. I think about what it'll be like if I ended up in a coma for a while, escape it all. Have a chance to decided if I live or die.

Why can't I just be normal. I'm fed up of taking meds for this, meds for that. I'm fed up with my diet, with never being able to lose weight. I hate the fact I'm still living with my mother, I hate the fact I'm 25 this year. I hate the fact I'm single but too scared of trying to find a realationship. I hate the fact that I hate life. I hate the fact that the only time I'm even vaguly happy is when I'm asleep and lucid dreaming. I haven't dreamt in weeks, not since my dream of JB. I hate the fact I can't smile and mean it. At the moment I only smile because people smile at me, because people expect me to be happy. I don't want to smile, I don't feel like smiling, I just feel like crying and crawling into a hole and staying there for a while. I don't want to cope with the outside world, and yet I crave the outside world.

I hate the fact I'm lonely but too scared to start new activities to met new people. I am so patheitic, and I hate it. I hate everything I touch, I hate everything I do and I hate the person who looks at me in the mirror.

"Everyday I fight a war against a mirror, I can’t take the person staring back at me, I’m a hazard to myself. Don’t let me get me, I’m own worst enemy. Better than you to know yourself. So irritating, don’t want to be my friend no more, I want to be somebody else......So doctor, doctor won’t you please prescribe me something, a day in the life of someone else, I’m a hazard to myself.......So irritating, don’t want to be my friend no more, I want to be somebody else" Don't let me get me: Pink

Urg!

It's all gone to shit. I handed in my report, people looked at it and it went down like a lead balloon. I tried so hard at it, but like all things acedemic/written I suck at it. I knew I shouldn't have undertaken this report, but I decided that I should take it so that I can prove to myself that I'm not a failer. I've only added to that feeling.

I've been given another six months to allow this project to grow and become what it should be, but I'm not sure I can do this. I'm not sure I want to do this. I want to quit so badly, but I want a job. I don't think I can quit doing this report until I have another job. Although at the moment I have not signed a new contract, I could technically leave if I wanted to.

The more I sit here looking at what I need to do, the more I begin to think about weather I want to do the report or want the job waiting at the end. I really don't know. I'm not sure what the thinking behind the report is, weather the end result is wanted within the community or weather it's just what the big man wants.

There are so many hurdles to jump, and I'm not sure I'm stong enough to jump them, with or without support. I had just started to build my self confidence up when this happened, and it's gone back down to nothing. I've already been taking the pills to numb the pain, to help me to sleep, which of course makes it hard to function the next day. I'm also thinking about cutting again, although the only thing that stops me is the fact that I can't hide the marks like I could when I was at uni. If I went into hiding here, people would notice. At uni no one noticed.

I'm not sure what the outcome of all of this will be. As soon as I know I'll let you know.

Creative Writing

A few weeks back I started to write a peice of fiction. At the moment I've called it the escape. I'm still working on it as this peice wanted to be handwritten, I've got to type it up and add more to it. But here is a small extract.

---

Scene setting: Suzi's a bitch. Mandy feels picked on

I've had it now. I pick up one of the mugs I've just placed on the table nad throw it at her. It only just misses. She drops her phone out of shock. It breaks. I smirk.
"Calm down Mandy. Let's talk about his" There is a hint of fear in her voice. I'veoften been told that when I'm angry, I'm the scariest thing on the planet, I'm like a wild animal. Uncontrolable.
"Calm Suzi, I'm perfectly calm." I say in a quiet, steady voice. I start walking towards her, she matches my steps as she moves back. Eventually she his the wall. We stand like that not moving for a while. No other movements or sounds can be heard. Finally I turn my back.
"If you've quiet finnished" Suzi exclaims "Get back to work" I stop walking, my back still facing her. I look ahead of me, there is quite a crownd including Phil, Sean and worst of all Pete, standing out as always with his balck curly hair. I stand there staring at him, making eye contact. he's shaking his head, arms folded.
"She's not worth it Mandy. Are you really going to jepidise everything you've accomplished, because of her." I just stand there. Thinking. Trying to calm down. I take more deep breaths. IT's not working. I feel the anger and the hurt bubble up inside me. I run my fingres through my hair. I rub my face. Breathing slowly and deeply. Pete takes a step forward. I try to calm down. Pete smiles.
"That's my girls" Slowly I walk towards him.
"You're such a brat" I hear from behing me. I spin around on the spot.
"Suzi, shut the fuck up!" Pete says slowly and sternly. Fear immediatly over rkaes Suzi's entire body. "Mandy look at me"
"Yes, Mandy look at Pete" I flip out, I run towards Mandy, pinning her up against the wall, my arm under her neck.
"Everyone back to their rooms NOW" Boomed Pete
"Do you know what Suzi, you're the brat. I'd feel sorry for your new co-workers but I can't. Do you know why?" Suzi shock her head "Because we get rid of you. You have no idea what this job entails. I could do a better job using just my left pinky nail!" Suzi opens her mouth to retaliate
"Don't Suzi" Pete warns. She closes her mouth. I turn around. Pete's close. There is a look of disappointment in his eyse. I puch Suzi to the ground.
"Get lost bitch" I scream. She squels and runs off like the dog that she is. I start to laugh hysterically, Pete moves towards me, by the time he gets to me, I'm crouching on the floor in tears.
"What have I done?" I sob
"You've put the fear of god into someone who deserced it." I start to calm down. I look in to his eyes. They say it all. I'm screwed.
"I have to stay don't I?" he nodds.
"Come on let's go." We walk towards my room, through the court yard,
"She's a psyco, she could have killed me." Suzi's voice boomed out of an open window. I clench my ffish. Pete can see me tense up. he takes my hands. He see's the state of my knuckles.
"Mandy when did this happen" Something in me snaos. I push him away and start to run. Destroying everything in sght. If it could be thrown, I threw it at hims, screaming as I go.
"She did this, I was fine unti lher. Now she's screwed me over, I'm the one being punished. Today was my day. I've worked so hard." I stop as I come to the front dooes. Iv'e not been out of those dooes for Five years. If I go out of those soors, I've really shot myself in the foot. I turn to face Pete. He had a cut on his arm and above his eye.
"Oh God Pete, I'm so sorry."
"I know you are. You can't help it. Let's go back to your room and talk abotu it. Perhaps your day will be next weeks."
"What about Suzi?"
"She won't be here by the end of the day"
"But... But... these feelings..." I struggle for breath. I struggle to see. SHe'll lose her job. She maybe a bitch but she still has a family to support. I rub my forehead, deperstly trying to think. I know I should go with pete, but I need to run.
"I'm sorry Pete."
"No Mandy don't"
I turn and run out the door.

---

Let me know what you think? If you like this try others I've written here.

JB

When Jonathan Brandis died back in 2003, I was deeply, deeply affect. It was something I could never explain. I just was.

Last night I had a dream about him. I remember it so vividly. I remember his smell, his touch, his voice, his eyes, even now as I remember the dream and write it here I smile. I wish I could say it was a happy dream, but it wasn't. I found him hanging. By a tree near a waterfall. I climbed that tree, cut him doen thus saving him. We sat there and talked. We talked about how he felt, how many times he's tried something like this before. The number he came out with supprised me a great deal. He took my hand and we walked, then he grabbed my other arm and carried me on his back. I can still fill his arms, his breathing, feel his breathing underneath me. I smiled, and I could feel him smile. We sat on the bonnet of my car "Wolenczak", which he commented on and thought it was great. I told him that he needed talk to me when he felt like this, he said he would from now on, providing I did. Then I said it. "How can I when your dead." At that moment I knew I was dreaming but I didn't want to wake up, so I stayed there. Turning this dream into a lucid dream. I put my face in his cupped hands and said "You make me as real as you need me to be. Just like you always have." "I can't now though, not now you're dead." I cry. "Don't cry. " he smiled. "As long as you need me I will be here." We hug then. We sit there for an age like this watching the sunset over the waterfall. I don't want to wake up. I tell him that. He tells me that I have to and it's okay because he's always there with me.

It's one of the nicest yet horrific dream I've ever had. I still don't know what to make of it.

Body update

I am feeling better. I spent the entire weekend in bed, having many, many hot baths. Hot lemony drinks, ODing on vitimin and mineral tablets. Eating so much fruit it was un heard off.

Unfortunalty though I did not manage to go up to see my sister. Apparently all the approriate "aww" "hope she feels better soon" was made and then they went out to lunch.

I'm having half day at work today, and seeing if I feel up to going into London later on today.

We have snow here today, which is not fantastic me, especially since my immune system is down anyway, the chances of me getting the flu again, or a cold or worse still a chest infection are significantly increased. We'll have to see. The next few days should be interesting.

In the meantime I must get back to work and finish off this report or else I'm never going to get a job.

Flu

I appoligise that I've not posted sooner, but I have had flu. I'm awake for an hour then sleep three. The worse part is that I'm meant to be visiting my sister today. But I really don't think I'm up to it.

As soon as I'm awake for more than an hour, I will post, I promise.

What is wrong with me?

Before I get started can I just say how disppointed I am in the 25 songs. Only one person had a go. Gee, usless the lot of ya!

So a couple months back I wrote this. I still can't being myself to tell you all what it is I want to bad, but I promise you it is not self-harming. It's not taking my own life. I found a website that was dedicated to images of what I want happening to me. Through those images I could imagine me in that place.

I am a real freak for wanting this so bad. But when it's a feeling that takes over your whole body, that you want it so badly that you ache, surely it can't be wrong to want something like this.

It would be so much easier to tell you all what this thing is, but I can't. I've never told anyone. I've written short stories about it, I've dreamt about it, but I have never actually told anyone about my secret desire. It's not sexual, it's just something I want. Something I need to have happen to me.

God, I'm such a freak! Part of me wants this desire to go away, while the main part of me just wants it to grow and for it to happen. I wish, almost on a daily basis, that it could happen to me. What is wrong with me?

Last Weekend

Was absoluly frelling brilliant!

The retreat was a complete sucess. People want more. I'm hoping for our second retreat in six months, give or take.

The guy I got stressed out over, didn't come. I have never prayed so hard, or been so thankful for anything in my entire life. I keep thanking God for this guy not coming. Although I'm sure God wants him to come back to church, I just couldn't cope.

But I'm still buzzing from the retreat. Now I have lots of work to do. If I can hand in my report over the next week or so, the sooner I know if we're getting a youth worker and if it's me.

Buzzing, buzzing, buzzing.

There I've posted. Will try and post more over the coming months.

Damn it!

When I was still at school, I used to have some fun with the boys, teasing them, play fighting etc on the way to school. One fateful day, Guy 1 had a magazine with a plastic cover which Guy 2 nicked and put down my back. I retrieved it from my back and put it down Guy 2 back. Guy 3 then grabbed my arm, while still down guy 2 back. I asked him to let go as he was hurting me. Instead he squeezed harder. So I asked him again, nicely, again he squeezed harder. I asked a third time, not so nicely (I think my exact words were "You're hurting me now get the fuck off"), guy 2 is uncomfortable at this point, as my arm is still down his back.

I became scared at this point because of the look in guy 3 eyes. He snapped. So I went to hit him to get him off me. UInfortunatly I forgot I had a bottle of coke in my hand and hit him round the head with that. I admit at that point I did wrong. I should have dropped the bottle, I shouldn't have hit him.

He jumped out of his seat, I cowered in the corner as he thumped me repeatedly on my arm. Then I snaped, I kicked him in the groin, screaming at him that no man was going to have that power over me, and he should just fuck off.

As you can imagin I wasn't a happy bunny, and still had to go to school with Guy 3.

So why am I telling you this, almost 6 years later. I'm running a retreat on Saturday, and there is a rummor that Guy 3 will be showing up. If he shows up I am not going to be able to cope. Which means he will win. I don't want him to win, I do not want him to have that power over me, but at the same time, I can't deal with him, I don't want to talk to him, hell I don't even want to see him. I know how uncatholic this is of me, but I don't want him to come.

He would ruin the day for me, and for those around him. He doesn't believe, always trying to tear everything apart, and is only coming because his mother is a nutcase and really putting pressure on him to attend.

I cried last night because I don't want to see him. I cried because he has this power over me. I am terrified. I don't want to see him. What the feck am I going to do if he shows up!

Dress size

A friend got me thinking about dress size. So here's my rant and outlook on it.

I used to be a UK dress size of 22, proberbly closer to 23. This is BIG. I hated school and hid in chocolate, hence the massive weight gain. Up until that point I was a fairly small lass, as I was hyper active so gaining weight was hard for me. Keeping it off was easy. The secondary school happened. I hated it and ate.

The more I ate, the more weight I put on. The more weight I put on the more miserable I was, the more I ate. The more I ate.... you get the point. So I ballooned.

Trying to buy clothes in the mid 90's when you're that big and a teenager was a nightmare. They were either frumpy and old looking or they were maternity clothing. Either way they didn't look good. I did once find some stylish clothes for the "outsized" women, as we were called. Price tag £90+ per garment. I couldn't pay that sort of money for clothes, even if I could afford it, I refuse to fork out that sort of money on one item of clothing.

Just before my 18th birthday I became really ill. I couldn't eat. I was in constant pain. I kept being sick. In a month I went from a dress size 22 down to a 16. It was the best part of a year before I could eat properly.

Since then I have been ballooning out between 14 & 16, also depends what shops I go into to what size I ware.

Today in 2005, "Outsized" women are beginning to find stylish clothes at affordable prices. Which I feel is a fantastic step forward. But most shops do not tend to stock clothes that are for those over size 16, supposesly. I went into a shop picked up a 14. To small. Picked up a 16 and there is no way in God's Green Earth that I was going to fit in that garment. I had lost weight, and was looking to buy smaller clothes. I left the shop as they only went up to a 16. They refuse to stock anything larger. I reckon there 16 was only a 12 though.

Why can't a 16 be a 16 regardless what shop you walk in to?

I read somewhere than the average size of women in the UK is 16. I did on of those IBM things, and my opimum weight is 9.5 stone. I currently weight 10.5 Stone. I only need to lose a stone, but even then I still won't get down to a 12, which is what most clothing stores cater for. If I decided that I wanted to be a size 12 I would be underweight and I would look shocking because I do have big bones. My wrist bone is bigger than my mothers or my sisters and they are both size 12s. There is no way I will ever be a size 12 and healthy. Remember how Geri Halliwell looked when she became ridiculously thin. I do and she looked ill. She did not look health. Well that's how I would look should I ever decided to become that thin.

But the facts remain. If you are a 14-16 or bigger you are made to feel fat by society which is unfair. I am happy with my weight. (Of course I want the smaller bum, thighs and stomach but I think most people want that), but considering how big I used to be, I'm happy with my weight. There are many people around me who are not happy and want me to lose weight, you here the comments and the glares as you past people.

I am not fat. I'm only a stone heavier than my IBM, although who decides what's good and what's bad?! There was a woman who has big, but she ran the London Marathon and was healthier than many around her. Thin is not always beautiful or healthy.

Relationships

I've had a lot of people ask me lately if I'm ever going to settle down. I mean I'm 24. I don't feel ready to settle down, not with a partner anyway. The problem comes though is that I've not dated since I was 18. Everytime I feel I'm getting to close to someone I back off.

I have done a lot of reflection about this. I am afraid of relationships. I can not keep friendships. I get myself worked up and ill at just the thought of being in a realtionship. I don't think it helps that i've never beded a guy. I'm very nervous at the thought of sex. I don't think I've afraid of it, I've never wanted it, and never felt as though I'm missing out by not having sex. But it is a big part of my fear of relationships. That and men. I've never had a male role model. I hate having a man in the house, espcially over night. If I ever settle down I feel sorry for the poor guy.

In the meantime what am I to do? I want a baby, that much I do know, that and I don't want to bring my child(ren) up by myself. So what do I do?

2005

"Ready Or Not, Here it Come, You Can't Hide
It's gonna Find You and Take you Slowly
Ready Or Not, Here it Come, You Can't Hide
Gonna Find You and Make you want it."

Well it's that time of year again, are you ready to face yet another year. Will this year be any different from the last? Can next year really get any worse? Will dreams become reality?

No one knows the answers to these questions, only God and Destiny. I only hope that 2005 works out better than the years preceding.

Please remember to act responsibly tonight. Alchohol is not worth it!

What if....

As a child Christmas is special. It's the most fantastic time of year. A time when anything could happen. All wishes come true. There is even something in the air. You truely believe that on Christmas eve, nothing can go wrong. Everything is special.

This magic is only increased as you watch those christmas films, where very special things happen. There is one such film called "The Christmas List" with Mimi Rodgers. A very typical type of Christmas film where you are lead to believe that anything can happen, because it's Christmas.

Of course, as you grow older, this illusion is shattered, and you realise that Christmas is just another day. To quote Dreamcater "SSDD". Christmas just becomes an annoying time of year, where you are expected to be nice to everyone, even if they aren't to you. Get cards for people, that you haven't even thought about in a year. And feel bad because you've recieved a gift/card from someone you have not got anything for. It's an awful time of year.

But what if.... What if Christmas could be special if you just believed. If you just wrote a letter to Santa, sent it off, if you truely believed. What if you could be happy at Christmas? What if Christmas could grant your wishes, all you have to do is believe? I would do anything to become that believeing child again, to ask for something, knowing it would come.

Wouldn't it be worth it, to have your dreams come true?

Merry Christmas

To all those who have been reading, or have read, and perhaps won't ever come back.

I hope you have a merry christmas and a happy new year. I don't blog here often, but hopefully in the new year I will blog more, and it'll be more up beat. Who knows.....

Merry Christmas.

WTF

There is something I want to happen to me, the problem is that I know it's wrong. but I think about it day and night, I can almost feel it. I want it to happen so much that I hurt. I feel the need within in every bone in my body, my soul yearns for it. I pray day after day for it to happen, but it never comes. I dream about it, visualise it in my mine, but it is never to be. It is wrong that I feel this way. It is not normal to have this feeling, but I do. I feel that my life is incomplete and I don't think This event will make my life any richer, but I want it. Every night I pray that it can happen to me, but I know it will never be. Regardless how much I wish or pray or positive mojo towards it. It will never happen. I want to feel and expressed this event, but it will never be. I must forget this dream and move on with my life. I want that pain though, I want the terror. What will it take for this event to happen to me? What will I have to sacrifice for it to happen to me.

I even dreamed about it last night. I could feel it all happen to me. Although I was terrified, I loved every second of it. I could physically feel it all happen to me. Which of course, has made me want it all the more. I have to get over this feeling. I've lived with this feeling for years, I'm not sure I could give it up even if I wanted to.

illness

I have this illness called Asthma, and although I try very hard for it not to rule my life. It does. I'm kidding myself if I say it doesn't. I fight very hard for it not to rule my life but if does.

I hate asthma. The other day I went to the cinema to see a film, just over two and a half hours long, towards the end though I really had to pee. As I walked out the cinema I cought someone's perfume, and started wheezing, along with the air conditioning they put in cinemas (why put in on in the middle of winter... it's beyond me!) I had a full blown attack. I had to walk back into the screen so I could find my bag with my inhaler in, and then had to walk out, past perfume lady, and find somewhere to take my inhaler. At this point the other screens where coming out, so I felt like a plonker. A realy plonker!

I hate asthma. I have to be so carful, make sure I carry around all three inhalers, make sure I don't get cold and wet, or if I do I don't stay that way long, incase I get a chest infection. A few years ago, I had a really bad attack, couldn't find my inhalers and as a result, I died. I remember the whole experience. I was looking down at myself on the floor, while the other three around me tried to get me to hand on until the ambulence arrived. Needless to say, I've survived, unless of course I'm a ghost!

I would do anything not to have asthma.

I'm in such a strange place at the moment, I'm happy but I'm not. I don't understand. There is nothing wrong with my life, not really. I'm perhaps on the lonely side, but that's it. I have a job, I have money, I have a job, I have a roof over my head. What else do I need? And yet there is something nagging at me. Pulling me down! I'm not crying, which is a good sign, but I struggle to smile, and by smile I mean smile inside and out. Oh it's easy to physically smile, but it's fake. It feels like a long time before I really smiled, inside and out!

I think I'm making it sound worse than it really is, but then again I can't really tell. I know there are people who are worse off than me, but at the end of the day if you're not happy, your not happy.

Depression

Sometimes I think that depression is just something I encourage within myself because I can, and because I don't want to think about anything. But other times it controls me and nothing I can do can bring me out of the blankness that invades my soul.

So my question is.. Is depression self inflicted or a disease?

I don't think there is an answer to this, only more questions, different views. I suppose this is why it's so hard to treat depression because there are so many causes, some self inflicted, some not.

Some days I feel on top of the world, and nothing can touch me, other days I don't even want to get out of bed, I don't even want to breathe. It just hurts.

I don't understand why I suffer from depression, even if I do suffer, or whether I'm drowning in self-pity. God I'm so pathetic

Cutting

I recently found myself cutting again after nine months of being clean. I had, had a really bad night, and a worse day, I was washing up and saw a knife. So I cut the palm of my hand just to see what it felt like. It felt good.

I stopped then as someone walked into the office. So I only have one small cut. Which no one can see. But the fact remains that nine months of being clean, I cut. I've even started taking an anti depressant again to help me get from one day to the next.

I really though I was over all of this, but obversly I'm not. Maybe depression is something I will have to live with my entire life, and I won't ever get over it. I just hate the thought that I will have bad moments in my life time and time again.

Hello World

Hi Guys

I should introduce myself, I'm CareForMeNot (CfMn for short). I'm here because for one reason or another, I have no where to express my feelings. Not my real feelings. Everywhere I go I draw friends, which I don't mind, but this does mean that I can't be honest around them. So as a result I've decided that I needed to start again.

So this is my blog, my feelings, and no one is going to know who I am, so that this blog can be totally mine, with the worry of upsetting those I call friends.

Welcome to me.

CfMn