Things

So much has happened, it’s hard to have the energy to write it. I might do it in instalments.

I need to exercise. My eating is still horrible – what’s new?

Went back to see my old psychiatrist today (the one I’ve been seeing since 2001, – he is quite reliable and helpful for drugs/med certificates).

Had to see a another GP before hand to get a new referral to p-doc. Had to wait 1 hour for GP, – first time I’ve seen her and wasn’t impressed with her (lack-of) helpfulness, and knowledge and time-li-ness. Oh well, at least I got my referral. My psych is good, he continues to bulk bill me while others pay like $150 or more with like only a $90 rebate.

So anyway, I’ve almost done all the SSRIs, and haven’t taken any meds since December last year. So he prescribed me Prozac, (Lovan). I hate drugs, they make me sleepy in the mornings (I like to be up early), but what can I do? I’m miserable, depressed…gotta try something.

Will update this again soon. Damien is home.

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I really don’t know if there’s any point in writing in here. I don’t trust hardly anyone anymore, I am wary of making friends. I’ve lost 2 friends (one in a spectacular display of painful unpleasant behaviour) and am left doubting everything and everyone now. I feel like everyone will leave, that maybe I am horrible (despite how hard I try to be a good friend, be thoughtful/kind/caring, it seems to go unnoticed or thrown back in my face – I must be doing something wrong..maybe I am destined to be alone after-all. Will Daniel leave too? Will Damien?

I am waiting for my parents to die. Because then I can. Finally. Go.

I’m tired of this life. The pain is constant. Chronic, debilitating. I fail, fail fail, struggle, and it’s NEVER ENOUGH. People always want something more than I can give. I am tired of not being able to satisfy people. I am tired of it hurting to breathe. Of broken, quivering sleep, of fear, and constant sadness.

I don’t know what kind of life I should have. I like family life but I am not a partner in the sense of romantic intimacy or love. I live to exist, be dutiful, and productive. I like to help others. I do as much as I possibly can. I wish I could paint. I have been too busy. Tomorrow I work for one day at Sofie’s school. I need to see a counsellor about grief counselling, and about advice on finances, and relationships and life and where I’m headed.

I am tutoring a new little boy. Grade 1. My tutoring plan and structure took hours to develop. But it is working wonders, and is proving very successful with him. I am proud of me. But it matters not a damn. Fuck me. And fuck it all.

i feel rolls of fat on my hips. And stomach. Yet I’m still anorexic? Maybe I’m not. (pause while I find my calculator). Hmm, I guess I’m not. I dunno. My BMI is between 17 and 18.  I need to lose weight. I haven’t tried to lose weight in quite a while now. Just too scared to eat properly so I am eating only chocolate and crackers basically. I hate eating real food. Maybe because in my head that would mean I was trying to be normal or that things were normal? Well it’s also a lot about being scared of awakening my appetite. I hate appetite. I use chocolate to suppress my appetite. It works well. I  eat just enough to maintain my weight. Not losing. Maybe I should start exercising more vigorously. Maybe that would "wake me up". Maybe I feel more dead because I haven’t had endorphins pumping though me.

Damien and I need counselling badly. But our counsellor can’t see us for 3 weeks. So we must wait. Sigh. Maybe I should put up posters to tutor local kids. Or advertise in school newsletter. I always feel bad about asking parents to pay $35-$40 / hr though. But that is what is needed. The work I do in designing a program for a child is probably worth more that that. At least in terms of my time. Oh well. At the moment I am with an agency, so they guarantee me $42 an hour. I do one hour a week.

You know what I’d like to do? I feel a bit like a few people I know right now who are going thorugh job/career changes or wish to change (Julie, May). I want to do a manual labour job where you can see how productive you’ve been throughout the day, and it’s is full of routine (I find that comforting). And there is little thinking or stress to occupy your head. I’d like to be a farm-hand, or work in horticulture growing and watering seedlings. I’d like that. But I think you need qualifications.

I am honestly quite sick of chocolate. But it’s all I feel safe to eat. Sigh.

We built a new, 2nd fence (a little higher and closer to the house away from the front fence near road) to contain Meishka. But of course, the little Houdini, super-dog, can STILL jump it. It’s probably a 5ft fence, I dunno. But yesterday I spent a horrid 45 minutes chasing the little devil around the town (with many onlookers) as Meishka did completely what she pleased and flouted obedience resolutely. We are now tying her up on the leash permanently in the yard if she is outside,…until a new fence is built. Of course Anna continues to be no problem (if you don’t count stealing our food off kitchen benches) and comes whenever she is called and never jumps any fences. Meishka has such lanky legs.

I feel disgusting. And huge. And lifeless.

So anyway, yeah. That’s what’s going on. I really want to paint. Haven’t had a chance lately.