Food For Thought...

Dear Nobody,

What's in the picture (below) is what I generally think. Why? Put simply because I Hate My Body.

Why? Because it has caused me nothing but trouble my entire life and I absolutely resent the hell out of it. The pain and the suffering it has caused me has felt like it as no end. And you know what the end result has been?I've abused it back. To the point where it cannot stand me anymore, either.

Like Stephen Fry has also said, it seems like a pointless entity. It's there just to carry my head. Life would probably be better of my head just lived in a jar, like that Star Trek guy in Futurama.

The endless years of pain and suffering it has caused me seems to know no end or boundaries. It still remains now. Only I, myself, have now made it worse. The list of its malfunctions is long...

- Depression (brain chemicals that don't work)
- Worn disc(s) in the spine
- Chronic backache (see above)
- Occasional right-hand partial paralysis (thanks to above and horse-riding accident)
- Chronic asthma
- Whooping Cough (that was really fun)
- Allergies to too many things
- Intolerances & allergies to foods
- Eczema
- Hayfever
- Blisters on hands
- Agonising "IBS"
- A weak chest: Getting really bad chest infections that take many weeks/months to disappear


It's also been through anorexia, bulimia, suffered self-harm with sharp things, and now it's rather overweight. This is due to a lot of things:

My eating disorders over so many years has clearly screwed up my body's digestive ability and common sense, it's clearly in permanent starvation-mode (is there a way to run that off?), and I still hardly ever eat. But what I do eat is usually rather bad for me. And thanks to my once-anorexic obsession with abusing exercise, I am now very scared of it in case I go back to there again.

So, how does a former serious Anorexic (and bulimic) manage to get overweight? Well, firstly read above. Secondly, it's the same abuse you give yourself with anorexia, only in reverse. But it's still punishment via food.
That, and being big also means I'm not
Super-skinny, proving I'm no longer anorexic. Not in body, anyway. My mind, though, definitely still is - and that's what also still scares me.

The bottom-line is that I resent - Hate - my physical body, and I therefore resent actually feeding it (anything), nourishing it, taking care of it, giving it some decent TLC, or exercising it. Because this is a two-way street, surely? And it's never seemed to have even tried to look after me. I tried to take care of it, but it just let me down beyond belief. Why should I try to look after it now after its behaved like that?

I do see my mind as a different entity and existence to the rest of me. Maybe because my mind works and the rest of me doesn't. I'm cerebral and academic - prefer books, writing and creating music to running around like a loon. I'm not active, and don't really use my body. I'm never tired unless my mind is exhausted. It doesn't matter what my body is doing. And I generally don't particularly care what that is, either.

I'm still struggling on how to resolve this. It's got to be for me to be okay... In the end. It doesn't happen overnight. In fact, it's so far been 19 years in the making. That's a long time. So it somehow needs to be resolved. The answer to the statements - "I Hate My Body" and "I'm Scared Of Food & Exercise" has to exist somewhere, and somehow I have to find it.

I may no longer crave to be super-thin. But I do want to be just plain healthy - both of psyche and body. I wish I craved it in the same way I once craved anorexia. It would happen a lot faster then.


From
Me x

Nocturnal Hyper-(Brain)-Activity

Wide awake with ideas at 2:30am. I hate it, how my brain starts rattling around when it's supposed to be sleeping. The moment I know I'm supposed to be settling down to sleep, it's like the motor suddenly gets turned on in my head and it starts rumbling to life.

I always get more ideas for writing - whether it's books or music. Currently it's books - I'm going through characterisation and the driving point of the "Glass Bubble" (formally "Star Attraction") effort. I still can't work out if I know the reason for the book - for the story to be told. Hopefully that will come, eventually. But the main girl - my Lisa - is starting to form as a clear picture in my head now. It's the first time thats really happened with her, and I'm going that's a good sign of progress.

I'd like to be able to do the same for My girl in Rumour In The Truth. I think Rachel has potential - but she definitely needs to be more "real" in my head. She's barely an idea right now, even though I've written a (not do great) book for her. But she's a but list in there - I'll have to revisit her when I've got to know her better.

I hope I'll manage to go to sleep soon tonight, but I fear I won't. It's like I'm afraid I'm going to miss something in my head - or forget an important thought or good idea. I've put a few in my BlackBerry memo pad already.

2:45am - finally feeling sleepy.

Here's hoping...

And Now For Something A Bit Personal...

I am exhausted, I can't think, I feel like hiding under the bed and never coming back out again, and I feel like crying until I'm dehydrated. It all means only one thing... The Dark Prince grinning evil fangs, calling "I'm back!"...

It's always great when the dark cloud of heartbreak and misery descends upon my heart and turns my head to mush. It's like a party of lost souls gathering to take the piss out of me and throw me into a pit of self-doubt, exhaustion and, frankly, exasperation.

Twenty years of this black monster living in my head has made me an old cynic. I understand it, and resent it. But I think I've managed to learn to accept it. I accept it for what it is - just another illness that I have to make my life difficult, to make me that little bit "different", and another kick in the butt from a body that hadn't been anywhere near up to scratch since my age hit double-figures.

I'm proud I now control it of my own free will, despite the long and arduous battle to keep the demon on its leash in a corner, muzzled and pouting at me from afar. Despite too many years of being pill-dependant - and using other very, very bad methods of trying to deal with the ruin and aftermath of its rioting in my life and head - I am now fairly in control of it, and learning all the time how to be better at doing so.

Writing stories, diaries, and music has long been part of of it. Another saving grace has also been lighthearted or completely farcical comedies to remind me how to laugh. The hardest part was learning how to want to live, though. After twenty years of attempting to destroy yourself, and feeling too worthless to even breathe, it's hard to start convincing yourself you're even worth saving. It wasn't too long ago I finally got there. Then I started to learn how become the master of the demon and wrestled it into it's corner of my own free will and strength. And it's through my own will I keep it there.

Even though there are times like now, where it tries to break free of its chains, taking on the image of the Dark Prince and grinning like the Devil itself at me, waiting to take me back to Hell, I now have the strength, the self-preservation and and courage of my own convictions - belief in myself - to look it back in the eye and say the immortal words I have loved since I was a child from my favourite movie.

You Have No Power Over Me.

Sickness & Sleeplessness

Dear Nobody,

Can't sleep. It's 2am and although utterly exhausted I somehow can't give up my will to sleep and hoping that this will help.

I've been quite ill with a rather irritating virus these last few days, and last night being New Years Eve I barely managed to make it past midnight, I felt so bad with it. It's possible the illness is slowly going away, but it seems to have left the inability to relax and settle in its wake (not that I'm really capable of that anyway) and after feeling utter shite for days, I am totally exhausted. So why can't I bloody sleep?

Strangely, having started to put myself out their on this "page" now, I feel that sense of sleep coming on. Maybe I've bored myself to sleep with my own ramblings... It's certainly a consideration. Of course it could also be the occupation if doing something instead of being frustrated. The second option sounds better...

Have also managed to become addicted to Downton Abbey in my illness - a fantastic TV series that has distracted me no end tonight from feeling utterly rubbish all day, after I exhausted the last two episodes of the BBC's new production of Great Expectations (Gillian Anderson stole the show there - absolutely brilliant!). Have been watching it whilst writing/ rewriting Lisa's story (previously titled "Star Attraction" and questionably renamed "The Girl In The Glass Bubble" (in the hope of creating/ starting to create a decent re-write).

Hoping can now go to sleep and that I've been freed from the annoying compulsion of insomnia. Crossing fingers and closing eyes...



From
Me x

Night Work

Dear Nobody,

Exhausted and tired, it's the middle of the night, have massive insomnia - and the cat's come in absolutely sopping wet from outside and yelling like its my fault! ... But then at least that means I can close the window and the nasty weather outside can stay outside. The virtual monsoon has nearly drowned my curtains and windowsill thanks to the furry idiot staying out in it all this time. Not very impressed.

Whilst having nothing better to do while waiting to eventually become exhausted enough to pass out, I've ended up becoming overly excited about the final and long awaited appearance of the BBC iPlayer iPhone app for my iPod Touch. After waiting about a year for it to materialise (as I have had said gadget since last Xmas) I am happy one has finally turned up - despite the fact that it also means that I have to re-set all my "Favourites" again... Would it have killed them to have it sync with your desktop sign-in??

Pussy cat is now lying on my pillows and drying himself up - bless him. He seems to be enjoying himself, but anything is probably better than being outside in gales and monsoon-like rain. Especially if it involves drenching my pillows. {see also pic}

For all my inappropriate excitement about iPlayer, I'm probably going to go and watch Time Team on the 4OD app now. I've always found the show to be so endearing, as well as fascinating and informative. Pussy Cat had now finished attending to his toilette and currently has curled himself up on pillows and is now purring happily.

I could only wish to be so easily placated!



From
Me x

The Grass Is Definitely Not Greener!

Dear Nobody,

Isn't it ironic that when we're at work all we do is crave for time off to do whatever we want to do - sleep in, watch daytime TV, play XBox games, eat proper lunch in your own kitchen instead of a cardboard sandwich from Tesco... Then when you actually get given then you're bored to death within days!

Home is not so interesting when you have nothing much to do and you've done everything you wanted to do all day every day for a week, and the novelty has worn off. And when you're home alone, with no co-conspirator to keep you occupied or do anything with, it rather starts to feel like you've been kept home from school because you're ill and your friends can't come round, not even after school, because you're still infectious. It. Is. So. Boring!

As a contractor you get lulls of "between contracts" and whilst it may seem like a good idea to take advantage of it and have a "holiday", when the other half goes back to work sooner than you after said holiday because they've got a "proper job" they've got to go back to, you're left bored stiff waiting for the phone to ring and watching rubbish on 4OD and iPlayer an wanting to go back to work... Until the novelty of having a job to do wears off and you want to be on "holiday" again!

Personally, I'm taking the time to try to do some good - I'm working more on my little book (or not so little, as still working on that part...) and hoping I'll once and for all nail that synopsis that will make the imaginary gullible agents in my mind clamour for the rights to represent it within seconds of reading it... See, I'm a perfect writer with an amazingly vivid imagination!

At least what I have done so far with my time off is re-write and edit the manuscript to a more sensible size and made modifications that I think probably does make it much better - curtesy of my rather insightful partner, which was a surprising source do such a thing given she absolutely refuses to read such works from other people!

All I need to do now is guzzle more coffee (unfortunately it's Kenko, as opposed to my favourite full-bodied Starbucks beans - unfortunately they're not bottomless never-ending bags, despite the price!), convince myself I'm not really dying of boredom, and go back to writing. Which is always more interesting than trawling through hundreds of jobsites for rubbish jobs I don't particularly want to do. They always tend to come to me anyway - which works just fine for lazy-ish me...!

Writing Block - as in blocked by keyboard

Dear Nobody,

Big, big, BIG mistake buying this damned wireless bloody keyboard! Can see why now you're supposed to get the more expensive ones... The cheap ones don't bloody work! Which is rather useless when trying to write. And ironically it also just happens to be made by Logik... Irony does not amuse when cannot write, though.
Have now taken to writing as much as possible on either iPod Touch (as am doing now) or on my BB, and gritting teeth when HAVING to use desktop for something. And that's not an easy keyboard to use either, the iPod Touch. It was not made for thumb-touch-typing - unless maybe you're Tinkerbell and your hands are about the right size to manage it.
The illogical thing is that the mouse that came with the insufferable thing in the package is perfect - can't fault it. But you can bang away at the damned keyboard for 20 minutes and you're lucky if 10 letters have materialised. And none of them will be the right ones, let alone an entire word. Unless maybe that word is "a"... But that really isn't an actual word, is it?...
Now, at home and looking for another work contract, it is fairly useful to be able to type on a computer, given that is where everything is nowadays - online. What is not useful is sending a prospective employer/ agency gobbledygook because your touch-typing goes unrecognised by the keyboard, which spits out random letters and spaces as it pleases - instead of the eloquent and clever letters and job descriptions you thought you were writing. It makes the rather lacking iPhone/iPod virtual keyboard look absolutely brilliant... Which is no small feat (as much as I love Apple, there were definitely some things they did not think through!)
What really makes it worse is that my alternative, my trusty (well, formally trusty) laptop, has gone completely kaput. One day it just lost the will to live and died. Decided it didn't have an Operating System anymore - or maybe it got as pisssd with Vista as I was and kicked it out for good. Either way, it now either screams at me or demands a Boot Disc - which is fine if you haven't lost it in the 3 years since you bought the machine. Especially since you thought it didn't matter as you were shortly about to install Windows 7 into it anyway. So either I fork out for a new laptop (though what I really want is to save up for a proper new Apple iBook), somehow find the boot disc and pray that it works, or get Windows 7 full package (paying about £30 extra than an Upgrade for it) and hope that formatting the machine and installing the new OS in does the trick... God I wish I had done IT in college instead of bloody Health & Social Care! Who cares if one can do hospital corners or or CPR if your (once) trusty laptop has completely crashed?!!