Tuesday, 28 December 2010

You Sedate Me, Elevate Me, Incarcerate Me And You Hate Me...

(Author's Note: This blog entry has taken several days to write due to the amount of emotion invoked whilst doing so. I apologise for the lateness.)

I sat thinking a few days ago that I'd be making this post sometime soon. The fun part will be catching it on Facebook so I can tag people in it.

This year has, without question, been the most eventful in my life. For good and bad reasons. Sure, I wasn't homeless like 2009, my financial situation has stabilised somewhat, I wasn't arrested, I wasn't raped and my life wasn't threatened in a terrorist attack. However a lot of pain went on. And still is.

At the very start of this year, I was given a stable tenancy in a shared house. It's not ideal but it's a permanent roof over my head while I try to sort things out. Sadly that's taking longer than I imagined. It upsets me and frustrates me that 5 months ago, I was positive about my future, that I had plans, that I was optimistic about life. Despite the crap that was going on, I was still looking forward to things and trying to plan somewhat of a future. Now... I feel lost. Every time I fall, it takes longer to get back up again. There's a limit to how many times I'll be able to do it too.

Anyhow, I suppose I should try and go over the good things that happened in 2010 but... I guess I'm losing the will to do so. I've forged some awesome friendships and had some great times. Had the end of this year gone differently, I suppose that I would have had more things to say regarding personal achievements as well. At the moment I feel like I haven't actually made much progress at all.

Every time I start talking about my BPD affecting me, I feel like I'm making excuses for myself. I try so fucking hard to deal with my emotions, to try and act "normal" and I just can't do it. I hate myself for still being in love with Inigo. I've tried so hard to make myself hate him, to try and realise that how he's acted has been totally twattish... and it gets me nowhere. I've tried drinking, I've tried not drinking. I've tried smoking weed, I've tried not smoking it. I've tried sleeping with other people, I've tried being celibate. I've surrounded myself with people, I've spent time on my own. I've kept myself occupied, I've taken time out to relax. I've tried to take time out to get over him, I've tried to move on. It's not just the being in limbo that's stressed me out, it's being deserted again and I really can't tell what it is that I've done other than being stupid enough to accept help from someone who I thought was a friend. I've said it before and I'll say it again, it's like I'm being punished for a minor mistake.

If I'm such an amazing person, why have I been ignored for the past 4 months? If there's no ill towards me, why would I be blanked without so much as an explanation? If he has respect for me, why aren't we at least giving things a shot at friendship? Or am I really that worthless?


So anyway... 2010.

As I recall after a rather amusing Christmas which I spent most of drunk with my hand up a turkey's arse, I arranged to meet someone for New Year's drinks. Said person ended up being my fuck-buddy and I have to say that we have a pretty good friendship even now. I still haven't forgiven him for the mark he left on my thigh with my whip though ¬_¬ Anyway, as I recall we saw in the New Year discussing politics and drinking vodka. Very civilised as far as my past celebrations have gone. The next day involved me meeting up with my "bro" Marlon. Who got stranded in Norwich because the buses weren't running to Sheffield. This was the night where we "acquired" a bundle of EDPs and threw them in the river. But yeah, it was good to see Marl as I've looked upon him as my little brother for a few years. Tis amusing to introduce him to people as my brother ;D. But yeah, I know he and I have been there for each other through some pretty horrible crap.

I started dating a guy called Will not long into January. Him being 6'7" was... well, a lot of neckache. He was very quiet and shy in a lot of ways. Misha tended to bully him... a lot. He said it felt like he was dating her as well as me. Then there was an incident involving Jomiy where I had to be there for her and that shook him up badly. I was still struggling with what was going on in my head at the time and I remember we had an argument on the way to Tesco one day for absolutely no reason. I'd not been sleeping properly and now I can recognise that I was on a manic. All the flaws suddenly came out and I realised that ... well, I just didn't feel for him the way I thought I did. Misha dragged me out to a pub quiz and that was when I met Inigo. He was dating a girl who had tried hitting on my ex (while she was with Inigo I later found out) who I was trying to patch things up with some months before. On the night I just remember that he was taken, so was I, I was instantly attracted to him. I spent the evening getting very drunk as I was upset over things with Will, ended up throwing up in the gutter outside the Belle Vue (which has been bleached by the acidity of my vomit). The next day he added me on Facebook and I was all O_O. Shaun (one of my old housemates) told me that on the way home I was going on about how embarrassed I was that I'd thrown up in front of him and was trying to throw myself into the road. At one point he had to actually pick me up and carry me home because I was so paralytic. I tried to put those feelings out of my head for him, telling myself that nothing would ever happen. About a week passed and I got a text from Will saying "We need to talk". Everyone knows what that's code for.

I pre-empted what was about to come with "You want to end things, don't you?" Turns out I was right. I got very drunk that evening, went over to Richard's (I still have the memories of staggering up Unthank Road, swigging from a bottle of vodka and singing Amy Winehouse songs at the top of my lungs) and... did some stupid things. Almost ended up with something happening that I really would not have wanted to happen. I've always said I'm not into watersports. Anyway, I told Will what had happened a couple of days later when he wanted to sit down and talk about the breakup and he accused me of having cheated on him. I still say that we'd already broken up as that was kinda done by text? Anyway, he said he didn't like my mood changes, didn't like my friends and found me "scary" at times with how my moods could change so quickly. I do remember that was a period of my rapid cycling with medication not working (yay for me being on anti-depressants that just made me hyper).

So, about half a week later, Misha was going on about going to the Arts Centre for a gig that her then boyfriend was playing at. I agreed as I thought having a night out with the girls would do me good. She hinted that a couple of guys were interested in me, including Inigo. Turns out he and Jess had split up not long before Will and I had. I sort of raised my eyebrow and left it at that. Anyway, he met up with us that evening, we.. talked as much as was possible for the Arts Centre with a gig on. I remember being so nervous and the alcohol that I'd drunk previously seeming to do nothing. Misha told me that she was texting him and telling him to make a move on me (and she was doing the same to me ¬_¬) and I told her to knock it off; that if anything was going to happen, it would. I think it really started when I sat next to him on one of the settees and started being a bit affectionate. Then Misha had some "crisis" and demanded that we both walk her down Unthank Road. You know, bearing in mind I live around the corner from the Arts Centre. After we dropped her off, I was shocked that Inigo walked me home. It seemed rude not to invite him in plus I wanted to spend more time with him. We sat talking for 12 hours. That was followed by some sleep, then waking up and having sex.

I remember telling him I love him for the first time, the amount of joy he brought to my life. I just wish there hadn't been so much crap going on at the same time. I was still struggling with getting my re-diagnosis We had our first major issue when I was still insecure about some things which is kinda understandable given my past experiences, and I was at my wit's end over what I was going to do about my diagnosis. Part of me really wanted to kill myself, the rest of me didn't. To this day I regret him being the one to call the police to get me sectioned that night. At the time I just... didn't think. I was so wrapped up in what was going on in my head that I couldn't think about anyone else's reactions. I guess I thought that Inigo wouldn't really care. I mean, we'd not been together for that long, he had loads of friends... Originally it started as something as a means to get my diagnosis then the more I thought about it, the more it seemed to... make sense. Which is why I should never think about things for too long because I have ways of rationalising them.

Anyway, that event caused us to almost break up. We had some time apart, discussed things and stayed together. I started to pull myself together somewhat and things were good. Then... stuff started to happen in the shape of a big Misha-shaped cloud. The jealousy of what Inigo and I had, the tampering with my medication, the making my manics worse, the increasing paranoia she caused me to have which made some insecurities start to creep back. Then to cap it all off, I found out I was pregnant, Later found out this was down to Misha giving me antibiotics whilst I was on the pill. Unfortunately I was also on seroquel at the time. Having had miscarriages in the past, I had a very difficult decision to make. Knowing that I've had issues conceiving in the past (Steve and I actively tried for 2 years after I lost the twins), I had to decide on whether to have this kid or have an abortion because Inigo and I had been put in this situation that neither of us wanted to be in. I decided that it would be for the best for me to have an abortion due to neither of us being ready for it. Of course, Misha had already done a lot of damage by shouting at Inigo down the phone that he had to man up and take responsibility as a father. While she was doing this, I was too traumatised by everything that was going on to really interject. I was in floods of tears and trying to keep myself together. The latter part of that conversation had Inigo and I agreeing that it was the better option and that we'd give staying together while he was in Cambridge a try.

Not long after this, we had an argument over him playing peacekeeper in Fran's already over relationship. I'd had Misha lecturing me that I should keep the baby, I was a mess from pregnancy hormones (they and I really don't mix as I know from past experience), had 20 million things going on in my head and sent him a text saying I wanted things to be over between us. I guess what I needed most at the time was him and he wasn't there for me. I felt that he passed up giving me support over something that was a really big fucking deal to... I don't even know. All I could really discern from the whole thing was that there was no tension between Jack and Fran, so at least THEY had a good weekend.

I was still getting my head around all of this and contemplating going back on my abortion decision as it was more or less just down to me. That was when I found out about the medication; both the antibiotics and the effects of seroquel. I'd felt bad enough because of smoking weed and drinking so much. When I started spotting, I can't say I was really shocked. When everything started gushing, I knew exactly what was going on. Inigo was away at Sonisphere that weekend. I debated texting him and telling him but thought it was something best discussed over the phone as a text/Facebook seemed way too insensitive and he couldn't be there in person to talk about it.

He'd agreed to come to my Prince's Trust final presentation. We had an okish time laughing and joking. He even turned up in a suit just like I requested lol. Yes, he was well aware of my suit fetish. We went out to a pub to chat and have a drink before he went home, things weren't going too well regarding negotiations over us getting back together, I went outside for a smoke, Misha walked past and... I attacked her. I'd simply lost complete control over myself. I grabbed her hair by the roots and started snarling at her about what she'd done. I'd had to put up with her all afternoon at the presentation, heard people talking about her at the first pub we went to (where she'd apparently been telling people she was a qualified social worker...) and her walking past was clearly more than I could handle. Something inside me snapped, I wasn't in control of myself. One of her friends stepped in front of me and said "You'll have to get to me first" or something similarly stupid and I lunged for him. Another grabbed me from behind and I swung them into a parked car. I vaguely recall there being a dent in the side and I don't know if I was responsible for that or if it was already there. One of the doormen from the Glasshouse came over and said that the police were on their way and I should leave, so I did. I got onto Colegate and collapsed on the pavement sobbing. Fortunately Richard (Allyce's brother, not my ex) called when I got in and I was trying to explain things down the phone. Inigo didn't want me to be on my own that evening so he gave me the cab fare to get to Allyce's as I could hardly stand. I remember passing out on the settee not long after I arrived.

I made the mistake of inviting him to my birthday. I thought I'd be able to handle things but it was all still too raw for me. I ended up getting seriously pissed and then trying to discuss getting back together wasn't a smart idea while pissed and having so many other things going on in my head. Obviously I was still shaken up from everything from before, had some family stuff going on that wasn't exactly easy to cope with either, ended up getting overemotional and took two overdoses. That was the last time I saw him.

Since then I've tried talking and been ignored. I had to go through Cambridge a couple of weeks ago and was certain I saw him at the train station where I had a panic attack and had to run for the train. I've been not wanting to go out because I might see him, because I've not been in the mood... many reasons. My head has been one giant mixing bowl emotionally. I've managed to work out some shit regarding my past and leave some things behind me. All I want it another chance. If not at a relationship, then at the very least at a friendship so this can be truly put in the past instead of shutting the door and walking away. Doors have a tendency to re-open in the future, no matter how well you think it's locked and barred.

I've got so much more that I could say, but to be quite honest, I feel that it's all for nothing other than getting it off my chest. Unlike a stuffy cold, this is more like cancer. I remove part and it comes back.

I realise that my summary of this year has mostly been stuff with Inigo and I. There have been some truly awesome people who have made it all more bearable and helped me in various ways to get through things. I shall be tagging you when Facebook decides to publish this post as listing you all would take forever. I trust that if you're tagged, you'll be able to think of at least one thing that we did together that made you smile though :)

Here's to hoping that 2011 will treat you all well. I know I'm not expecting anything amazing after last year and my "how much worse could 2010 be after 2009?"; I've learned my lesson. I do know one thing that would resolve a lot of issues right now but I highly doubt that it'll happen.

Saturday, 11 December 2010

Me, Myself and I That's All I Got In The End

Sometimes I really wonder about people. This exchange of messages proves my point. I don't think I'm an overly attractive person in any way, shape or form. I'm pretty open about my BPD (which hopefully sends enough people, who I wouldn't be able to tolerate, running), I'm not physically that attractive (I consider myself to be a couple of steps up from Anne Widdecombe and Susan Boyle however) and I probably come across as a mixture of arrogant, snobbish and rude to a lot of people. I don't generally like people getting too close to me for a myriad of reasons: me getting hurt, me hurting people I care about etc etc.

Sometimes it seems that the message just doesn't get across so I have to give it a bit of a helping hand:

From: -twat's name protected by my benevolence-
Subject: Hi Sent Date: 12/5/2010 8:59:17 PM

Hi..Really impressed with your profile and wanna know more abt you.
I am working in Norwich and interested to have a relationship with you. I am a a cool guy who loves making friends,going for zym and swimming,roaming around city and looking for a relationship..
Have a great time..
Finally forgive me if any grammer/spelling mistakes in my language..

To: -twat's name protected by my benevolence-
Subject: RE:Hi Sent Date: 12/6/2010 8:15:32 PM

No offence, but I think I would rather shove my hand in a meat

From: -twat's name protected by my benevolence-
Subject: RE:RE:Hi Sent Date: 12/6/2010 9:44:18 PM

Original Message YOU sent on 12/6/2010 12:15:32 PM
No offence, but I think I would rather shove my hand in a meat

Hmm. You are too genious to talk. I am not that good in english but i hope my message reaches you. However wanna be your mate if you are fine with me.
Have a great time.

From: -twat's name protected by my benevolence-
Subject: RE:RE:Hi Sent Date: 12/6/2010 9:52:56 PM

Original Message YOU sent on 12/6/2010 12:15:32 PM
No offence, but I think I would rather shove my hand in a meat

also Frankly speaking i am new to these type of sites. but you are the only one who kept many lines about you. its too good to read and decided that you are too genious :) .. I am not flattering you.
Have a great time.

To: -twat's name protected by my benevolence-
Subject: RE:RE:RE:Hi Sent Date: 12/6/2010 10:59:36 PM

I'm sure I am "too genious". Certainly "too genious" to want to
read your poorly written crap. No, I don't want to even be
friends as I have had less ham-handed attempts at getting into my
knickers whilst drunk and out clubbing. They get turned down too.
People like you I ridicule.

Here's some tips on how not to fail:

1. Learn proper English and how to apply it.
2. Don't assume that a woman will instantly want to go out with
you just because she's got more braincells than a dried pea or is
more attractive than roadkill.

Alternatively you could:
3. Buy a mail-order bride from a website who won't care about any
of your shortcomings.

Please don't message me again.

I don't think this counts as an offer so much as an atrocity...

Tuesday, 30 November 2010

All The Little People Need Education

It seems weird in a way that it was 10 years ago that I sat my first GCSE. I can't say I really revised for it (or the rest of the ones I took). I'm allegedly of above average intelligence (although sometimes my personal life REALLY makes me doubt that) but even I can see that GCSE papers now are easier than the ones I sat 10 years ago. I remember being told how important the results were, the fact that we would need them to get a job or to get into further education. My particular 6th Form apparently required B grades in a subject to take someone on for their A Level course (only it was then changed to AS and A2, but the same rule applied) with a required 5 Bs total to gain entry. I was therefore somewhat shocked when they seemed to renege on that and allow people with D grades into the 6th Form. No, I kid you not. I'm assuming they were admitted on a case by case basis so if someone got something like A, A, A*, B, D they'd accept... Being 10 years ago my memory is somewhat hazy now but I do recall vaguely that these people with D grades were generally not that bright and had been in the intermediate classes rather than the higher ones.

I was told by my Maths teacher that I wouldn't get above a C. I only submitted one piece of Maths coursework instead of the normal of 2 (because I couldn't be arsed), sat the higher tier paper and walked away with an A. In a subject that I am completely crap at. English was a case of "read stuff and then write something semi-intelligent about it". As I've always read and written a lot, this caused me no great hardship. I found languages easy to pick up and so again, this caused me no great issues. I do remember there being an issue with Physics as our teacher was diagnosed with cancer about half way through Year 10 and we were left in the hands on stand in teachers, very few of whom taught science subjects. We were generally left with textbooks and told to do exercises. I heard that everyone in my class got a D on their Physics coursework. We still had a substantial amount of A*s and As in Science (back then we did the Suffolk Science Double Award instead of individual grades in Chem, Bio and Phys). I honestly can't say that any of the GCSE courses were that taxing. A lot of people did revise tons and got worse results than myself and I know I am somewhat of an anomaly. One of those people who you really hate because they slack off, put in no work and get good grades (don't worry, AS Levels got their revenge on me), but the point is that I also recall a lot of the people I sat exams with got out of the exam room and said "Bloody hell, that was much easier than I expected".

I just went and had a gander at the AQA site (the exam board for my English GCSEs) and looked at the new style anthology with it's millions of extra new features that my generation never had. Back in my day we had a softback A4 book of about 60 pages or so which would invariably end up dog-eared, torn and mostly illegible by the end of the 2 year course. We were also allowed to take this into the exam, however our notes were meant to be very limited. I don't know how exactly this was regulated, I'm assuming had anyone had anything out of place they would have had it replaced with a spare from the front. In any case, it was quite simply a book or poems which we would occasionally sit in class and discuss, much to the boredom of most people. It certainly made me want to stab Carol Ann Duffy. Having said that, I was the sort of person who wanted to respond to questions like "Why do you think the author is trying to get us to sympathise with the subject of this poem?" with "The bloody author is still alive so I suggest you ask them yourself". Don't get me wrong, I LIKE poetry, I think poetry is very pretty. I can understand interpreting works by those who are no longer alive if they have never stated what their work is about. I see very little point in asking questions about the work of an author who is still alive. Technically a piece of text (or art in other mediums) can be interpreted in more than one way. If no definition has already been given, then sure, allow people to freely interpret. If there is already a "correct" answer and you're trying to see how many people can spot it, I think that's actually quite unfair. This coming from the person who got an A* in English Lit (and no, I didn't actually tell the examiners to bugger off and stop asking me pointless questions on my paper).

You see, the joyous thing about GCSEs is that the most obvious answer is generally the correct one. THAT is how you get away with questions about seemingly obscure interpretations. The materials that they get you to study have glaringly obvious themes and topics. This is probably part of the reason I got told that one of my essays was degree standard when all I did was pick a very vague and obscure theme from both Wuthering Heights and 1984. I don't believe my work was that advanced, more that the teachers were shocked that someone could think that much outside the box rather than going for something blindingly obvious. A lot of people (as my class was mostly female) picked two love stories. The idea behind the "wider reading" component of our course was to get us to read one pre and one post 20th century book, then write a comparative essay on some aspect of the books. I didn't really want to do something boring that would end in the examiner having a "WELL DUH!" moment. Having just had a little look on teh interwebz, I've found the following (which I have added a couple of annotations to):

What texts go well together?
It is possible to find some works of literature with very close connections, but it is usually quite sensible to find works that have a common theme or general subject. One very good idea is to write about texts in which relationships are important (/headdesk). Not surprisingly, this will allow you to write about very many novels, plays and poems, as this subject is a favourite of many writers.

What texts should you study?
The possible combinations are infinite. What you study will reflect how far your teacher wants to prepare and direct you, and how far you are able to work independently. Some teachers want to make sure that you approach the subject in a very structured way, while others are more ready to let different pupils take different approaches. Examiners are comfortable with both - they are very ready to give more credit for work which is obviously done entirely by the student. (Well that explains a lot...) They are less comfortable with schools where all the students write the same things in the same order. And you will find a range of tutorials on this site for texts which you may wish to combine.

Now, I wasn't actually presented with anything like that. I remember we had a brief which said something along the lines of what we were and weren't allowed to use. It didn't really give any guidelines. I recall quite a lot of people asking for help in classes with this essay. I er... didn't. As I recall when I studied my GCSES, my high school had decided to close the library in preparation for development of the new ICT block. The central library in the city was still a smoking shell after a fire. Internet back in 2001 was... well, not amazing and not everyone had it. I knew that my personal use of it back then certainly wasn't studying and even so, there were very few resources online. All I remember doing was thinking about books I had read and what was the most obscure comparison that I could do. After about 5 minutes of thought, I came up with the 1984/Wuthering Heights combo and went with it. After sitting down and reading the bloody books again. If you were lucky, you could POSSIBLY find a copy of York's notes for a book to help you work out what was going on. I didn't have the time/money to try and track them down personally but I know a few people who did.

Back to my initial point: kids these days (and of the past 5 years or so) have had a lot more media to hand when it comes to revision. The epitome of help for us was finding a revision guide book. Nothing more is being asked of them than what was being asked of the people who sat exams alongside me 10 years ago. The National Curriculum has been restructured for many subjects to make them easier (not being rude but probably because of the amount of non-native children who have come into England and can't perform as well). Therefore I suffered somewhat of a minor heart attack when a friend of mine posted a link to an article with the following quote:

Only some 54 per cent of the country’s children manage to get 5 A*-C grades, including just English and maths.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

As you may know, I did a course this summer with a lot of people who were a good 5 years or so younger than myself. Not to be rude but the majority of the people were below my standard. Sounds petty but looking over their work I'd see a lot of errors that I wanted to correct with red marker pen. Everyone managed to pass a Level 2 qualification in Literacy (and the Numeracy paper too). This qualification is the equivalent of a GCSE C grade.

In my personal opinion, the problem isn't with the schools so much. It's with the parents for not taking more of an interest in what their kids are doing. I remember reading Wicked! by Jilly Cooper and thinking how lovely it was that one of the parents sat a GCSE along with his son. I tried making the point to someone that as they suffer from learning difficulties and have free time on their hands, their pregnancy would be an ideal time to do some literacy courses so they can help their kid before it starts school so they get a decent start. This got met with general apathy.

But you see, because parents are being less involved/interested, the kids themselves lose hope. They see mummy sitting on the dole doing nothing and what have they got to aspire to? Sure, there are exceptions to this who see that picture and think "I want better from life", who will be self-motivated and achieve. There are those who have the self-motivation and won't achieve due to various reasons (lack of ability, lack of support, being held back by said parents). You get so many people who are sat on their arses on benefits with no motivation to achieve, thinking that life for them is going to be being discovered on the X Factor or getting famous through Big Brother, therefore they don't actually have to work for any qualifications. They don't realise that for most people, that will never happen. They don't care because they know that they will be able to live off the state. In fact, many would prefer that because it guarantees them housing. Sure, this country is quite messed up at the moment. But I'd rather be claiming JSA with some decent qualifications than none at all. Long term futures seem to be things that a lot of people don't think about.

Of course, I can't say for definite what standards of teaching are like these days but after looking at the league tables I can see this much: my old high school had a 39% A*-C pass rate in 2001. In 2009 it was up to 64%.

Ugh, enough education related ranting for one evening. It disgusts me too much to think about it now.

Friday, 12 November 2010

Everywhere Death Row, Everyone's a Victim

As most of you are PROBABLY aware, 11th November is Remembrance Day. The idea being where we spend some time thinking about those who lost their lives in combat over the years (most notably, but not excluded to, those involved in World War I). Contrary to popular belief, WWI wasn't started by the Nazis, Americans, Muslims or Saddam Hussein. The trigger was actually the assassination of the heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne by a Yugoslav activist. Everything spiraled from there with there already being a lot of political unrest in Eastern Europe. But I'm not really here to give a history lesson.

What has shocked me today has been people's attitudes. Now, whether you are a pacifist or back up the military on every decision, you can't fail to agree that the world would be a very different place today without certain conflicts having happened. Sadly, humans are a very primeval race at heart and violence will always be present. It's biologically ingrained. Sadly the armed forces can't be tamed by presenting them all with a copy of Black Ops along with a lifetime supply of booze and women. I may not agree with certain conflicts that have happened, but I do appreciate the sacrifices that were made for my freedom. Note: this does NOT mean I advocate the war in Iraq which I think is way past it's end date and we should be allowing the country it's own freedom.

It came to my attention that earlier today there was a certain conflict in London involving some Muslin extremists (note EXTREMISTS!) who decided to burn a poppy while spewing some hate towards the British armed forces.

Taken from Express.co.uk:
ISLAMIC protesters sparked fury when they burned a giant poppy, chanting “British soldiers burn in hell” during yesterday’s two-minute silence to honour war dead.
The hate-filled extremists screamed “British troops are murderers” and “There will be no security for Britain while troops remain in Muslim land”.
Calling themselves “Muslims against Crusaders”, they clashed with police while 50 members of the English Defence League staged a counter-protest near the Royal Albert Hall in central London.
Police kept the two sides apart, but as the two- minute silence started one Muslim yelled out, “British soldiers go to hell”. One of the group held up the poppy, set it alight and threw the burning symbol of remembrance to the ground, while others, some masked, chanted “British soldiers burn in hell” in front of horrified onlookers.Three men were arrested at the scene – two for public order offences and one for assaulting a police officer. One officer was taken to hospital with a head injury.
Onlookers were appalled by the ultimate insult to the war dead and soldiers still risking their lives in Iraq and Afghanistan. One said: “It was a disgrace to be burning poppies on Remembrance Day. It should be a crime to chant things like that. Those people are despicable.” Another said: “It was outrageous.”
And parents of British soldiers killed in Afghanistan later branded the grotesque protest as “atrocious”.
Christine Bonner, whose son Darren was killed by a landmine in Helmand province in 2007, said she could not believe the incident.“I’m disgusted. There are people like myself that at 11am today were remembering the lives of our children, and then there are some people doing something so hurtful as that. I think it’s atrocious.
“We’re talking about individuals who have died for their country.”
Tony Philippson’s son James was the first British soldier to be killed in action in the Nato operation in Helmand province. He said: “I don’t see the logic of it. Why could they think that soldiers of any nationality shouldn’t be remembered?
“My son went to Iraq with the Marines fighting for Muslims to get rid of a tyrant so they could have some freedom.”The Conservative MP for Shipley, Philip Davies, said: “These protesters should be ashamed of themselves. People will be sickened. The lack of respect for people who have given up their lives for freedom is appalling.”
Labour MP Khalid Mahmood, of Birmingham Perry Bar, said: “It’s just absolute nonsense. These people have no regard or respect for the people who are prepared to give their lives for the country, and if they don’t like it they can hop it and leave. They have these rights to protest that are afforded to them because people have given their lives up for those rights.
“To have these people behave like this is absolutely ridiculous. It’s complete nonsense and despicable.”
A spokesman for the Muslim Council of Britain said: “While these are a handful of people claiming to speak on behalf of Muslims, many more Muslims will join fellow Britons in remembering the sacrifice of our Armed Forces.” During the incident the protesters held banners which read “Islam will dominate” and “Our dead are in paradise, your dead are in hell”.
Asad Ullah, of Muslims Against Crusades, said: “We find it disgusting that innocent people, innocent children, have been killed in an illegal and unjust war and we are demonstrating against that.
“We want the Government to pull the troops out from these countries and to stop interfering in our affairs.”
He added: “I have no respect for the silence as it represents the murder of millions of Muslims. By burning the poppy we wanted to upset people and we wanted them to hurt. If you hurt for two minutes you can understand the hurt we feel every day for our murdered Muslim brothers and sisters.”
Muslims Against Crusaders organiser Abu Rayah, from east London, said: “British soldiers are mass murderers and your politicians are oppressors. By wearing poppies, you condone mass murderers. This protest was for thousands of Muslims killed in Iraq and Afghanistan.”

Amusingly, soon after reading this article, I found this article about a new Iraqi government.

I'm aware that the idea behind the armed forces staying in Iraq was to create some stability for this government to form. However, I do think that it's something we (Britain) should have been much less involved in considering that we a) have a VERY large Muslim population compared to America and b) we didn't instigate this war. That was the beloved Dubya who decided to drag Tony into it. Why the hell we persisted, I don't know. Surely it's obvious that there will be very little in gratitude on any front and all that will happen is unrest on home soil? Oh wait...

Thing is, this is what has happened in the mean time:


... 479 comments to be exact. Some of the things said truly shock me. People think it's OK to be racist because of some extremists? That would indicate they know it's not every Muslim but fuck it, they're going to generalise anyway! Some people have tried to do the reasonable "Look kids, this is how it actually is..." and are just plain ignored. Of course, being the internet I'm not sure how much is just plain trolling. Something tells me not as much as I'd like.

For those who aren't aware of the symbolism of the poppy:

Long before the Great War, the red poppy had become a symbol of death, renewal and life. The seeds of the flower can remain dormant in the earth for years, but will blossom spectacularly when the soil is churned. Beginning in late 1914, the fields of Northern France and Flanders became the scene of stupendous disturbances. Red Poppys soon appeared.

In 1915, at a Canadian dressing station north of Ypres on the Essex Farm, an exhausted physician named Lt. Col. John McCrae would take in the view of the poppy strewn Salient and experience a moment of artistic inspiration. The veteran of the South African War was able to distill in a single vision the vitality of the red poppy symbol, his respect for the sacrifice made by his patients and dead comrades, and his intense feeling of obligation to them. McCrae would capture all of this in the most famous single poem of the First World War, In Flanders Fields.
The doctor's work achieved immediate universal popularity which was subsequently reinforced by his own death in 1918 from pneumonia and meningitis. He was buried in a military cemetery near Calais on the English Channel, thus becoming one with those of whom he wrote in his famous poem. Probably by the time of his internment, John McCrae's verse had forever bound the image of the Red Poppy to the memory of the Great War. The poppy was eventually adopted by the British and Canadian Legions as the symbol of remembrance of World War One and a means of raising funds for disabled veterans. An American war volunteer, Moina Michael, helped establish the symbol in the US where the Veterans of Foreign Wars and the American Legion also embraced the Red Poppy tradition.

In Flanders Fields

By John McCrae

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row by row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard among the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe;
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If yea break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

So... the dude who said he burned the poppy because it symbolised mass murder... Yes, it did. The mass murder of those who lost their lives in WWI.

I've actually been to this place:

(This is Ypres in West Flanders where a lot of the bloodiest fighting took place in WWI. Heard of Passchendaele? That was the 3rd battle of Ypres.). Did it make me think? You bet. I went as part of an "extra" school trip back in '00, before 9/11 even happened. I guess it's part of what has given me the mindset that so much fighting these days is so futile. To see field upon field of graves and to know it was only a small number of those who died... It was truly breathtaking and one hell of a smack in the face.

Oh and the Armistice/Remembrance Day REAL reason?

Armistice Day (also known as Remembrance Day) is on 11 November and commemorates the armistice signed between the Allies of World War I and Germany at Compiègne, France, for the cessation of hostilities on the Western Front, which took effect at eleven o'clock in the morning—the "eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month" of 1918.
In many parts of the world, people take a two-minute moment of silence at 11:00 a.m. local time as a sign of respect for the roughly 20 million people who died in the war.
n the UK, beginning in 1939, the two-minute silence was moved to the Sunday nearest to 11 November in order not to interfere with wartime production should 11 November fall on a weekday. After the end of WWII, most Armistice Day events were moved to the nearest Sunday and began to commemorate both World Wars. The change was made in many Commonwealth countries, as well as the United Kingdom, and the new commemoration was named Remembrance Sunday or Remembrance Day. Both Armistice Day and Remembrance Sunday are now commemorated formally in the UK.

I seem to be a bit on my high horse about this but to me, 11/11 has nothing to do with Afghan, Iraq, Ireland or the like. It doesn't really make me think about who the armed forces have dragged over to the Middle East now. Their fighting has nothing to do with the freedom of my country. The motives behind recent conflicts and those of the Great War are entirely different. Sure, it's sad that people have lost their lives in conflicts since WWI&II BUT can I just point out one TINY thing here? National Service was abolished a long time ago. You don't go into the army expecting everything to be dandy and for all your limbs to stay on. You KNOW there's a high chance they won't. It's like driving along at 100mph in a car with your head out of the window. Sure, you might be ok and not hit anything, but the chances are that you probably will. I'm sorry if I don't sound all bleeding heart and hate the awful nasty people who our brave young men are fighting and know that it's OBVIOUSLY their fault for putting down landmines. I'm being realistic. You know what you're signing up to. Back in the day, a lot of people didn't know that they'd be gassed. They had no idea of what they were getting themselves into. These days people do unless they are severely mentally retarded (in which case, they won't be allowed in the armed forces ¬_¬). The British Army even goes so far as to say that a person has to be clear of any physical and mental disabilities for 4 years before they will be accepted (well, that's ME ruled out :P).

Anyway, tl;dr version:

Racism is retarded, people need to learn facts about things before opening mouths.

Tuesday, 26 October 2010

Maybe That's What Happens When A Tornado Meets A Volcano

I've been doing a lot of thinking this evening. Trying to resolve some things in my head. Have been for the last couple of months, actually.

I hate to sound like a broken record, but dealing with things isn't easy for me. The good thing about things now is I know WHY and can deal with things more effectively. I'm coming out of my low so I'm feeling... better. More capable to think about the past and try to resolve things in my head. I've decided to start off with one of the easier ones: Steve.

Long story short regarding him:

I met him when I was 16, my mother and step father hated him. I moved to London to be with him, part because I was going through a lot of abuse at home and part because I believed I honestly loved him. And I did. We lived together for 5 years with his family. I had a lot of firsts during that relationship. Although we loved each other, we were also a very fucked up couple. He had anger management problems, I had problems expressing my anger. Back then I wasn't aware of my mental health issues. Now I realise that they were underlying factors for much of my old behavioural patterns. I feel a real sense of progression to read over traits of BPD and see which ones I've overcome over the years. Makes me realise that I AM getting better and can keep doing so.

Anyway, in the 5 years we were together (ages 16-21), I suffered a great deal of abuse from him too. It was hard for me to get my head around all of it. The other day I listened to the lyrics of Love The Way You Lie. Like, properly. It was shocking for me to realise that Eminem was pretty much rapping about Steve and I.

Steve and I both had very strong personalitites. Neither of us would back down easily. Of course, this caused problems when we argued. Not to sound snobby but he was also below my intellectual level so very often I thought his side of things was retarded. The arguments would escalate... fast. The first time he raised his hand to me, I didn't break down in tears. He did. He was begging and pleading me to stay as I packed my bags. He convinced me and so I did. He promised me it'd never happen again. I believed that he was sincere with his apologies, that he really regretted it.

We pissed each other off because we were both very insecure. I was part to blame for that with some of my behaviour early on in the relationship. We were constantly with each other, he hated me going out and having friends out of fear that I'd cheat on him. That developed into him accusing me of doing it. After so long, I actually did do it as I was sick of being persecuted for things I hadn't done. We'd then argue, make up and carry on. Then it'd happen again a few months later. What got to me was that while I WAS being faithful, he was chatting up girls behind my back, making ME insecure.

After 3 years, we were at the point where we should have called it a day. A friend of mine and I looked at house sharing so I could get away. Nothing was really cheap enough for us and our minimum wage retail salaries though.

When I finally left him, it was incredibly bloody and violent. We were flat out brawling in the street. He was drunk, hit me because I'd been out most of the evening and something inside me snapped. I started fighting him back. That night he threw alcohol in my eyes, cut up my clothes... The next morning I packed a suitcase and left. He followed me to the bus stop, punched me in the face and pulled my hair (in front of about 5/6 people stood there), then ran off. I got on the bus and broke down in tears as I realised exactly what I'd been going through for so long.

He tried to contact me. I ignored him. A couple of months of silence followed, then an email to say that he'd just got out of hospital. Apparently he refused to eat after I left. Wouldn't sleep. Effectively went mad. It was almost a year later that I decided to actually respond to one of his emails. He rang me, we met up... things went well. We talked about getting back together. With a year having passed, I expected him to have changed. He had in as much as he wasn't violent towards me. At the time I was with someone else (Robbie) who was screwing up my mind even more and decided to cut off all the contact I had with other people. Steve thought that I wasn't interested and... well, moved on. I then found out a couple of months later that I was pregnant. Was awkward as I was in a women's refuge at the time. A couple of weeks after I found out, I miscarried. Fell down the stairs in the house while packing for a visit to Norwich, started having some light bleeding and then... yeah :/ I felt as though I just couldn't tell my mother though. We were patching things up slowly but it was too personal.

I held on to a lot of bitterness and resentment for how things turned out (not the miscarriage, but how I was so untrusting of people, insecure, nervous...). To this day I don't know exactly what went through his head, but I'd like to think that Eminem had it nailed. Maybe he really was upset by what he did to me, maybe beneath it all he really did care. But I found within me the strength and courage to walk away from the abuse. I've come a long way in recovering my trust. Misha didn't exactly help with that this year, but overall, I'm now just slightly more cynical than the average person, yet not naive enough to believe that the world is made of sunshine and lollipops or to expect that. While some of my moods can send me spiralling into the abyss, I'm learning how to pull myself out. I guess that's another reason I isolate myself during a bad patch.

With my most recent low, I became a recluse again. This time I felt like I needed to. I needed my head space to make sense of things. Yes, there was some wallowing in self-pity. After trying to stop myself from doing so, I needed that indulgence to get it out of the way. Then I sat and thought: right, what do I need to change? I know that realistically I can't get better overnight, but the past has kept me tethered for too long. So, I sat and thought about things methodically.

Steve - Doesn't matter anymore.
Robbie - Doesn't matter anymore.

Hell, even

My mother - Doesn't matter anymore.

I am me. I am a fighter. I am a phoenix. I have been fighting battles for years with various issues that have happened in my life. I could be a lot worse. I'm not perfect but I am far from a lost cause. All I need is time and patience. To develop my coping skills (which is coming on admirably fast), to know who I am, to know where I'm going, to turn my negatives into positives, to be that strong and confident woman that I was before.

It starts now. No more bullshit being taken, no more being a doormat. The most important person in my life is me. Yes, I can still feel compassion for others, help them, give my advice, never again to the detriment of my own well-being.

Thursday, 30 September 2010

Trying Hard To Fit Among You, Floating Out To Wonderland ~ My Thoughts on Having BPD

Ke, my other post was more.. personal about circumstances happening to me but I wanted to make this one more general about my condition and more descriptive. Plus I figured it'd be more theraputic for me right now to try to take the emotions out of my condition.

So... a bit of back story... I was finally diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder this year after a long struggle with diagnoses. Obtaining this diagnosis helped contribute towards the end of my relationship with the lengths I ended up going to whilst on a manic.

People often don't understand what manics are like so let me give a quick summary:

Mania: the presence of which is a criterion for certain psychiatric diagnoses, is a state of abnormally elevated or irritable mood, arousal, and/ or energy levels.

To me it feels like having taken a shitload of uppers and not being in much, if any, control of what I am doing. I won't feel like I need to sleep and will often be up for stupidly long periods of time without feeling tired, can end up doing very reckless things without realising (not looking when crossing the road, having no concept of danger, feeling like I'm invincible) and will generally have a very high opinion of myself. I will feel as though a million thoughts are racing through my head, find it hard to concentrate on things but at the same time am capable of being highly productive. Irritability can increase and I can snap very harshly at people without thinking about what I'm saying. This is very self destructive behaviour and has caused a lot of upset with people I don't want to hurt. When in one of these states I'm usually not aware that I am and will look back and regret my actions.

For a very long time I never accepted that I had manic phases and as a result didn't discuss them with my doctors. As I knew that my depressive phases weren't normal "feeling down" moods, I thought that my manics were just me feeling "normal" or "normally happy". One of the toughest things for me has been to start discussing my feelings with other people as I was discouraged from doing so ever since I was a child. This means that I've taken a long time to realise that my moods are not of normal intensity on either end of the spectrum. My manics have been very difficult for me to deal with as recognising when I'm in one is difficult as I will rarely reflect on things. I have a couple of friends who have Bipolar who can recognise when I'm on a manic and know how to deal with it. They will also tell me that they recognise my mood so I can try to cope with it better. It allows me to warn other people what sort of mood I'm in as well.

The other side of the coin is my depressive phases. While a lot of people think that depression is just "being emo", that's not the sort of phase that I go through:

A person having a major depressive episode usually exhibits a very low mood, which pervades all aspects of life, and an inability to experience pleasure in activities that were formerly enjoyed. Depressed people may be preoccupied with, or ruminate over, thoughts and feelings of worthlessness, inappropriate guilt or regret, helplessness, hopelessness, and self-hatred. In severe cases, depressed people may have symptoms of psychosis. These symptoms include delusions or, less commonly, hallucinations, usually unpleasant. Other symptoms of depression include poor concentration and memory (especially in those with melancholic or psychotic features), withdrawal from social situations and activities, reduced sex drive, and thoughts of death or suicide.

I was actually diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder back in 2005 during an incredibly stressful relationship with someone who was physically abusive towards me and explained to my then GP that I had been having these feelings for several years on and off. He referred me to a psychiatrist whom I described my low feelings to. He, in turn, prescribed me prozac and asked me to attend counselling. At the time I was 19, still wary of the stigma surrounding mental health problems and was still battling the "talking to people about my emotions" thing. Going to my GP alone was a huge step for me. It came to me on a day where after quite a lot of attempted overdoses and self harming by burning, I burst out crying and came to the decision that after 4 years of it, I didn't want to be that way anymore. That instead of ending things, I wanted to get better. Realising that how I was feeling wasn't normal was a difficult thing to grasp.

One of the things I really hate with how people perceive BPD is that they assume that the person with it is blowing things up out of proportion, attention seeking and bring their problems upon themselves. I can honestly say that I don't, nor do I use BPD as an excuse. I will turn around and say "I did x and was on a manic" as an explanation for why something was said/done with such intensity. On some occassions my actions have been directly caused by an episode. I've never intentionally done something and then blamed it on a manic, however manics have affected my judgement severely in the past.

With suicidal tendancies, it's hard to explain to people why I feel the world will be better off without me. Sometimes the feelings of worthlessness and self-hate are really that intense. It can be because I'm tired of hurting people, because I feel that I won't stop feeling how I do (especially as it's been so many years and not just a "phase" I've grown out of), because I'm sick of being a burden to those around me, because I get no pleasure from things that would otherwise make me happy... It can be a whole variety of reasons. Sometimes I get all those feelings at once.

I used to self-harm. Not to attempt suicide, but to deal with emotions that I couldn't process in my head or had problems expressing. Sometimes anger that I felt was so intense that I internalised it. Sometimes pain was the only way to distract from what was in my head. Feeling physical pain would take my mind off the emotional pain. However, self harming is something that that again, isn't "normal" and is looked down upon. Emo kids don't help the image by claiming to be depressed that Daddy won't buy them a new Porsche so they want to slit their wrists. Self-harming now has an even worse stigma attached: again, attention seeking. I never expressed my desire to cut/burn myself. I would just do it when alone. Until Feb this year, I had managed a whole 2 years of NOT self-harming and was gutted that I failed to keep that going. My first incident was when I was 14. My last incident was in August. I am by no means proud of my scars. I feel awkward when people look at my arms. I hate having to explain why to people that I have caused myself harm in the past when they ask.

Having done some research into BPD, I realise now why I have certain patterns of thought. I try CBT on myself and have made SOME progress with this but with a lot of stuff going on, my BPD is harder to fix. Medication has some effects in terms of antipsychotics but it's very limited. Sometimes they can exacerbate some of my moods (being on Seroquel made me more manic after a while and Mirtazapine made me aggressive and argumentative, causing another relationship failure).

One of the hardest things for me has been seeing other people around me suffer because of me. When I've said and done things when not in control. When I've lashed out at those closest to me. When I've shut myself off from people because I don't like them getting too close. Trying to explain to people afterwards that they've done nothing wrong. Knowing that one day "Sorry" won't be enough. Feeling like you can't give people what they really need because of how you are mentally wired. Knowing that sometimes there's no explanation that you can give for how you feel. Wishing that you could stop inflicting the pain on them but not being able to... This has cost me someone incredibly dear to me and caused me more pain so... it really is the hardest thing to deal with right now. All I can say to try and aleviate any of this is that I hate myself more for my actions than anyone else ever will. Not much solace at times but true nonetheless.

I don't like not being in control of myself and learning how to identify my mood shifts when sometimes there is no reason whatsoever is very hard. I know I usually crash into a low after a manic, but other than that, I'm clueless so far. Recognising the signs of my states is also a challenge when I'm alone or around people who are unfamilar. I hate the moods being so extreme too. I do have some days when I'm not bouncing all over the place or rocking backwards and forwards in the corner but they seem so few and far inbetween. On those I generally just feel numb. On a rare few, I feel "normal". Then something will happen in my head and I'm off again.

I'm not happy with how things are. I would trade everything to be rid of this with one exception but that exception is not a part of my life at present. I would, however, trade anything for them to have been unaffected by this. They were my motivation to try and get this under control and most of the time, it worked. At the moment I wonder what the point of battling is. When I feel such low self-worth and so much hatred, I can't do things "for me".

The Face That Fills The Hole; That Stole My Broken Soul

I feel so fucking emo for making this post, but it's something I need to do.

-takes deep breath-

It's been a good two months I guess since I made the stupid judgement call whilst on a manic and things effectively ended between Inigo and I. I've... not been right since. My friends have tried their best to keep me occupied and stop me from falling into a massive low and... well, they've not failed as that would imply that they COULD stop it. The sad fact is that they couldn't. That's not to say that they haven't helped. I've greatly appreciated the company and support but the truth is that it's only worked so much. My eating is fucked, my sleep is fucked... I've cried every day for the past two months. That's something I've never had happen before. It feels as though there's constantly a heavy weight in my chest that I can't get rid of. No matter what I do to try and distract from it, it won't go away no matter what medication I take, how much alcohol I've drunk or how much weed I've smoked. Spending time with people has been fun but it's not taken these feelings away. They keep returning.

In the past couple of weeks I've almost completely withdrawn from socialising. Been shutting myself in my room without talking to people, putting my phone on silent and generally feeling like I can't deal with the world. Yeah, it may sound emo but the truth is that there's more to it than just a regular relationship break up and that's without my mental health problems. I try to keep myself active and involved in things but all too often feel myself slip into the old cancellation because I feel a complete lack of motivtion and just want to be left alone. It's not that I want to wallow in self-pity: far from it. I want to stop feeling like this and I've tried. I don't know how to make it stop and so far all attempts have been futile as I still feel the same. The last time I had social withdrawal was when Richard was a complete dick to me before Christmas and I only knew a couple of people in Norwich. It wasn't as extreme as this. The unstoppable tears (including in public), the uncontrollable shaking, the feeling like a complete and utter nervous wreck around people...

This is by no means a post for sympathy, to guilt anyone or attention seeking. Simply to explain some of my behaviour recently for those who have seen me disappear. It's easy to say "Just get over it" but honestly, I've tried and I can't. I feel as though a huge part of me is missing. I wish to non-existent god that I was exaggerating on this, but the sad thing is I'm not. I'm trying to get on with things as normal and I just can't.

My borderline is a blessing and a curse: on the one hand it makes me a very interesting person, on the other it costs me things that are dear to me. There are not enough words to express how fucking sorry I am for what happened with my mind, with how stupid I was not to notice the interference of a stupid jealous fucked up bitch, how I should have realised what was going on so much sooner... I wish I could take all that hurt away, that things hadn't happened the way they had, that I had actually been given some choice in things, that I hadn't been forced into certain actions... I would honestly give anything to change that, no word of a lie. If there was anything I could do to change this situation, I would do it. I've never felt this fucking passionately about anything before and it scares me. Knowing that part of my aggressive side was to protect Inigo... I said to him months ago that I would do anything for him and that I genuinely meant it. The evening I attacked Misha... I know part of that was not only my borderline but the whole protective side coming out because what she did caused him so much pain. Yes, it hurt me too but him being hurt affected me more. I still can't help but feel that he and I have both been cheated out of something. I said on my birthday to him that I wouldn't be able to take this pain and I was absolutely right.

I still love him with all my heart and that in itself is a double edged sword. If I didn't, I wouldn't be feeling this way. I'd be able to let go. This whole situation would be so much less of a big deal. I just can't stop. I don't want to stop loving him. Not because I like hurting like this, but because my love for him is so fucking strong. If he was a bastard, I'd probably still feel the same. I last felt like this for Steve and I put up with so much from him. Obviously I don't want to go through that again but... This is hard for me to deal with because I have no way of turning it off, no way of making it stop. I want to get on with my life but I don't want to do it without him.

Thursday, 26 August 2010

You Can Look But You Can't Touch, I Don't Think I Like You Much

I feel like having a moan today (and not the sexual sort) as I've come to the conclusion that I'm a rather grumpy bitch of late. I guess I've had more than my fair share of reasons to be so but here's a short run down of things that are annoying me at the moment:

- People who seem to think I work in places when I don't
Prime example of this today at the library. A guy sits next to me, sees I'm busy typing something (ok, so I was only chatting with someone on Facebook at the time but I COULD have been doing something important!) and then proceeds to ask "Excuse me but could you show me how to use the computer?" Well you know what? I could... But I don't want to, nor am I paid to do so but the staff who are sitting at the desk behind you ARE. It's not the first time it's happened. I've had similar things happen in Game (well I did USED to work there...), Silverscreen (I was working for another store at the time...), Waterstones (again, past job...) and HMV (I've worked in entertainment retail so I guess that explains that one). Strangest one was in a branch of Carphone Warehouse. Strange because I don't know that much about phones and I believe at the time I was talking about laptops.

- People who spam their Facebook news feeds with crap
I really don't care what's happening on your virtual farm. Your virtual cafe could burn down for all I care and no, I won't work in your fucking hotel even if you paid me actual money. Besides all the apps, you then have people who find it amusing to update their status every five seconds about what number cup of tea they're on, asking what colour they should paint their nails today and the all to common phrase "I'm bored". Guess what? No one really cares. If you want to talk about pointless garbage that has no purpose, get a blog and contain it all to there. Or, use that "Note" function on Facebook. The other main bugbear of mine is people who make multiple wall posts on the same person's wall. There's a comment feature for having conversations. Making more than one wall post merely clogs up other people's news feeds who might not want to see your gibberish or flirting. Hi, that's where the message function comes in which you can send to more than one person! Yes, I know there's the "delete" button, but my phone doesn't let me delete posts from my news feed and Facebook only seems to want me to mark all the person's messages as spam or delete them as a friend. Seems a bit extreme after one day of it (which admittedly was REALLY fucking annoying when I wanted to see what was going on with other people and having to wade through 5 pages on my phone of wall posts from an individual) but it's something I'll bear in mind if it continues.

- The Jobcentre
For the past 6 weeks they have lost every single postal decleration that I've sent them. This has resulted in me being royally shafted for money on several occasions. I started phoning them Tuesday morning (the day I should have been paid), called all through Tuesday and Wednesday to be told that I would receive the money on Friday which is a full 3 days after when I should have received it because of THEIR mistake. Once was bad enough, twice was taking the piss. This being the third time, I was pretty much incandescent with rage on the phone which I made sure I told the people I was speaking to that it was nothing to do with them, simply me being angry and frustrated at the people who aren't on the phones but meant to be dealing with people's claims but blatently aren't. Do you people not understand that I WANT to work? I don't LIKE claiming benefits, I want a full time job again. I'm not prepared to take on 4 different jobs a week of 8 hour shifts in order to get the hours that I need though. I've told you the career path I want to take, surely you should be helping me get there? Also, TNG are a useless waste of space. I've just done a 12 week course to improve jobseeking skills as well as personal deevlopment. Why the hell do I need to do more? It's not going to change anything. I like my CV the way it is now, thank you please. Go ahead and say that my attitude won't get me a job. I don't see the point of constantly changing my CV when the basic information is staying the same. What are you going to do? Hold a gun to an employer's head and tell them to take me on? Feel free to do so as it'd be miles better than having to deal with you twats.

- People in Public
Including but not limited to:
- Kids that scream on buses
- Kids that scream in the street
- Kids that scream in shops
- Kids that scream in the Post Office
- Parents that do jack shit about the above 4 points
- Parents that allow their kids to disrupt other people (like the ones that run into my fags, kick the back of my seat on the bus, climb over me while I'm sat waiting for something, throw their toys into the road hitting cars... the list goes on)
- People that sit too close to me on the bus. You know, their legs touch yours and it's just... ew. It makes me cringe and want to climb out of the window.
- People that don't believe that a young person can be disabled. Yeah, I've seen the looks they give me when I sit at the front of the bus. I don't care; I have a bad back and dodgy knees. Age does not dictate physical disability.
- People who have no manners. I held the door of Chapelfield Mall open today as I have manners and went to let someone through before I walked through myself. You know, because I was brought up to be polite and courteous etc. I waited for 12, yes TWELVE people to walk through before I could get through the door. Again, not the first time it's happened but I'm sick of it. Thing is, I can't stop myself being polite. It's automatic. I simply can't just slam the door in someone's face or not let them through before myself. I've tried and it just doesn't work.

I'm going to stop there lest the swear filter at the Forum has another fit at me ¬_¬

Tuesday, 10 August 2010

I Wanna Let Go Of The Pain I've Felt So Long... Erase All The Pain Til It's Gone

Well, I've had another phone call this evening and I feel more relaxed than before. Some things still niggle at me but I'm hoping they're just basic insecurities which will fade. We've at least agreed on the whole fact that there'll be a kinda deadline on deciding. As my final presentation is on the 19th and I want him to be there, we've kinda come to the conclusion that it'd be best for me to know by then. I mean, that way I'll know how to act on the day and hopefully save me embarrassment. Soooo... it's a simple matter of waiting to see what's going to happen. Which has me holding my breath but... I feel it'll be worth it. I mean... I love him. I know that. I'm prepared to wait for the right decision. I don't mean by that him taking me back (although I'd like to think that'd be pretty awesome and would be for the best).

So yeah, short but sweet post to say that I'm finally feeling a bit better. Still nervous and scared but... hopeful. Which is the first time I have been in ages.

Tuesday, 3 August 2010

They Got Me On Some Medication...

After a visit to the doctors today (where I was told by the lady doing my first ever cervical smear test that my cervix is apparently very easy to find!), I had my prescription changed. I first brought up a month or so ago that I wasn't happy with how Seroquel was making me more aggressive and violent. I had the same problem towards the end of taking Mirtazapine. So... they gave me Risperidone. And me being me, I wanted to do some research into what exactly these pills will be doing to me.

So far I have found out:

In 2003 the FDA approved risperidone for the short-term treatment of the mixed and manic states associated with bipolar disorder. In 2006 the FDA approved risperidone for the treatment of irritability in children and adolescents with autism. The FDA's decision was based in part on a study of autistic children with severe and enduring problems of violent meltdowns, aggression, and self-injury; risperidone is not recommended for autistic children with mild aggression and explosive behavior without an enduring pattern. Like other atypical antipsychotics, risperidone has also been used off-label for the treatment of anxiety disorders, such as obsessive-compulsive disorder; severe, treatment-resistant depression with or without psychotic features; tourette syndrome; disruptive behavior disorders in children; and eating disorders, among others. In two small studies risperidone was reported to successfully treat the symptoms of phencyclidine (PCP) psychosis due to acute intoxication and chronic use.

Sooooooo... hopefully this will counteract how Seroquel was making me feel and lower my irritability. Not that I have autism/Aspergers of course, but if it has that effect, it might do something for my borderline? Treating my manic states is something that's needed attending to. Oh, and then I got onto the side effects:

Risperidone has been associated with weight gain. Other common side effects include akathisia, sedation, dysphoria, insomnia, sexual dysfunction, low blood pressure, high blood pressure, muscle stiffness, muscle pain, tremors, increased salivation, constipation, and stuffy nose.

Many antipsychotics are known to cause hyperprolactinemia which may lead to hypogonadism-induced osteoporosis, galactorrhoea, gynaecomastia, irregular menstruation and sexual dysfunction. However, risperidone is known to increase prolactin to a greater extent than other atypical antipsychotics. Although lactation is possible in both sexes using other antipsychotic drugs, risperidone is the biggest offender. There is a higher association between pituitary neoplasms with use of risperidone and amisulpride than with other antipsychotic agents. It is thought that once risperidone raises prolactin, it may cause prolactinoma, a benign tumor of the pituitary gland. Tumors, in general, are not considered reversible. Medical therapy may help reduce tumor size and restore normal reproduction and pituitary function, however, dopamine agonists are not likely to be prescribed to antipsychotic users, thus, surgery or radiation treatment may be required. This condition may recur if the patient is switched to a different antipsychotic. Risperidone has been known to cause increased thoughts of suicide.

I find it quite worrying that a drug that can increase thoughts of suicide is used to try and combat depression... Surely that's like... completely illogical? Irregular menstruation won't be a problem as I switched onto cerazette today. I decided I might as well go for the "cheap" option of no periods at all so then I won't stress about not having them, won't have to buy tampons... All should be well. AND THEY AREN'T AFFECTED BY ANTIBIFUCKINGOTICS! :D So yeah, there is NO chance of me getting pregnant again by pills making my pills less effective. FUCK YEAH!

Anyway... I'm going to give these new meds a month, see how they are. Admittedly I didn't find that Seroquel made me aggressive right away. Thing is, with the other "mood irritant" that I discovered, I won't be as exposed to that from now on as I've realised it's not doing me any good. Part of me wonders if changing from Seroquel was really necessary, but the fact is that I was noticing the behaviour before that irritant became so severe. Ooh, and also in my Wiki rovings, I found that apparently cannabis is effective as an antipsychotic! Well, in treating schizophrenia but still... It kinda works for me too...

Ooh, and I discovered that the Prince's Trust would be able to let me do a course called "Youth Steps" which would give me a qualification in working with young people, which as most people know by now, is what I want to do. So yay! It actually involves two residentials (and HOPEFULLY I won't injure myself on either of them :P) and a load of other stuff which I have on a piece of paper in my bag. The next course starts in November so that gives me a couple of months to do some voluntary work and so forth. I have to say, I really like the fact that I'm getting back into education. Admittedly right now it's low level stuff, but I guess a low level quallification in youth work is better than NO qualification at all. Of course it'll get to the point where I have 30 GCSE equivalents... On the other hand, I might find out that I have a paid job and will start my OU course for my Social Work degree. A lot can change and I'm certainly no stranger to THAT fact.

In other news, I kinda blew my lid a bit today at Starbuck over the whole feeling... well... like she tries to take charge of everything on team. Ok, I KNOW I can manage a team. I've done it in the past in the work environment. Hell, even now I'm chair of Project 18. I've basically felt for the past few weeks like I can't put myself forward for a leadership type role as she constantly jumps in and claims that she'll do it best. Well, claims she'll do it right. While I can't argue and say that she's always wrong, there's a lot that she doesn't know, hasn't experienced and yes, sometimes she WILL get things wrong. I've now got to the point where I'm sick of taking a backseat and I think other people are pushing for me to take a more leadership type role. I've always been someone who doesn't like putting themselves forwards, but with her personality being quite domineering, I've felt even less inclined. Part of me wanted to take a backseat in any case because I've previously had leadership roles and let other people come to the fore. However, Starbuck has seen this as an opportunity to try to take charge of everything. I can understand her getting frustrated with other team members. We all do it. I'm no angel in that department either, BUT I know I've improved over the weeks. So, today I kinda gave her a few home truths about it and said that I felt as though I've had to take a backseat and bite my lip for most of Team. She almost stormed out of the team room and drove home. I felt slightly bad about that but at the same time, she needs to learn that she's NOT always right and that people WILL give her criticism. I tried not to sound too bitchy at the time and make it constructive, but I don't think she really noticed that. When Stu asked us to shut up, I did. She kept going. So I then chipped in with "Stuart told us to shut up and you're still fucking arguing. Give it a rest" or something along those lines. That was when she got into a strop. Feels good to vent that actually.

As for things with bloke... We spoke for 3 hours on the phone last night and we seem to have come to the point where he feels his head will be in the right state to deal with thinking things over. As I said to him, I can totally understand why he made the decision he did on Sunday night with the facts he had at the time. I most likely would have done the same thing in his position. However, a lot of new information has been uncovered since then and I think he understood my whole "don't bother with finding out why, let's just deal with what is" mentality.

Monday, 2 August 2010

Bigmouth Strikes Again, And I've Got No Right To Take My Place In The Human Race

Ho'kay... the forum doesn't like my draft of my last entry so I guess it's starting from scratch...

Basically, the last week and a bit has been hell for me. Not only have I been on an almost constant manic, but I've also ended up making some stupid decisions as a result that I wouldn't have made had the circumstances been different.

Item 1 - Thought I was pregnant, had a test, was negative, had the same symptoms, started lactacting, freaked out. Told Inigo, someone had words with him that were along the lines of "man up and take responsibility". Things were awkward.

Item 2 - Being on a manic anyway, pregnancy worries made this worse, brought on by the fact that being around a certain person has made it worse.

Item 3 - Not knowing the full story to something involving the other weekend and making snap decisions and judgements that I otherwise would not have done.

So... With all this shit going on, I overreacted about something and said some... awful things. And broke up with him. He then found out the next day from his friend Rob, which was NOT my intention as I thought I'd worded it suffciently in the text. Whenever I've broken up with someone before, I've not done it via text. That alone shows that my state of mind was fucked up.

The day after he explained what was going on from his end, it all made sense to me and I wasn't pissed off in the slightest at all. But to cut a long story short, he then felt that he couldn't deal with being with me because of how quickly the mood came on. I have to say that he didn't actually see that I'd been on a manic from about the Thursday (the texting and me splitting up with him came on the Friday). On Sunday we seemed to be doing ok and that was when he said that he couldn't deal with my moods. I was... a mess. I ran out of the house as I was having a panic attack and I didn't want him to see. Which looked REEEEEEEEEALLY good ¬_¬

Anyhew, after 2 hours sleep that night, I wake up at 6am crying. Over the next couple of days I find out that someone has lied to me about pills which caused me to fall pregnant and that the baby would have severe brain and nerve damage, therefore I'd have had to have an abortion regardless. I also start analysing various other things and am told that this same person was jealous of what Inigo and I had from the very start as their own relationship was going tits up at the time.

So... On last Thurs night, I asked him to call me and explained in full what had been going on. Asked him to think things over now there's new evidence and come to a decision based on that rather than what there was around by Sunday night. He's agreed but obviously I will still have to deal with whatever his decision finally is. He said he wanted to find out exactly why this person has done what they have, but my philosophy is this:

The question I've asked most in my life is "Why?" Recent events have taught me that even though I want to know, sometimes I never will and the most important thing is to deal with the matters in hand. If you're meant to find out why, you will at some point.

I personally feel that from the amount of effort we put into talking about how I was going to cope with things, the good times we had, the fact that he's been an AMAZING support to me as I've been learning what I have and how to deal with it, on top of the enormous amount of good we do for each other.. to throw all that away when it wasn't even either of our faults to begin with... would be a huge waste. Finding out why this person has done what they have... it probably won't ever happen. Hell, getting them to admit to it probably won't happen with how they are. I'm not going to concern myself, stress anymore or try to figure out this person. I'm done with trying. It's not worth any more of my time and/or energy.

Thrusday night I started spotting. Friday it was more severe bleeding. Saturday I was getting huge cramps and literally gushing blood and... stuff. I knew I was miscarrying. I didn't want to tell him as he was at Sonisphere and I will shortly (as in within the next 20 mins or so) be speaking to him on the phone so I can tell him. It wasn't something I really wanted to put into a text. With grave/important things, I prefer to do the talking face to face or at the very least, talk on the phone. With what I was telling him during the week about what had led to Friday night, I texted because I had no idea how he was, if he was missing me (although I hoped he was, awful as that sounds) and how he'd react to talking to me. By Saturday evening, my manic had broken (my cold/flu bug thing hadn't, however) and I was... numb. Not depressed, just... numb.

Of course I was upset to miscarry. Part of me expected it after how much Seroquel I've shoved down my throat since April. Part of me was relieved. Part of me was sad. It's easier to deal with than what an abortion would have been, but it doesn't mean that I feel nothing. I cried for a while, then set my sights on trying to sort everything else out. It was something that wasn't at the right time and as sad as it was to happen, it's also saved me a horrible choice.

So where do I go from here? Trying to pick up the pieces. I've got Prince's Trust to finish of course. Project 18 to work on. I've had a couple of people hit on me this past week and I've reacted with a "muh" reaction. If I loved or cared for Inigo less than what I do, I'd have been straight under a new guy. I'm not because I love him. Because I feel cheated out of what we had. Sure it wasn't perfect, but we were both learning so much. Yeah, it was tough at times but being with him has been the best treatment for my borderline. I'm fighting to change because I don't want to hurt him. I know who I can be and he's helped me to get closer to being that person again. I've often said that I feel like I'm 16 again when I'm with him. As much as it pains me, Cheryl Cole was right:

Anything that´s worth having
Is sure enough worth fighting for
Quitings out of the question
When it gets tough gotta fight some more
We gotta fight fight fight fight fight for this love
We gotta fight fight fight fight fight for this love
We gotta fight fight fight fight fight for this love
Its worth having its worth fighting for

Ew, I spewed a bit in my mouth after copypastaing that. It's cliché, but it's true at the same time. I honestly believe we ARE worth fighting for. But of course, if it's not what he wants, I have to accept that. Not sure how I could do that and stay friends with him (it'd take a loooooooooooooong while for me to be comfortable with talking to him again), but I'd find a way eventually. I seriously feel that things have been very unfair (but that's life quite often) and out of either of our control. The chances of such a cumulation of events isn't going to happen again. Sure, similar things may happen but this was an epic shitstorm along the lines of 9/11 in terms of crap. As time goes on, my (and his) understanding of my BPD will get better. My dealing with BPD will become better. Hell, my BPD will become better full stop. It's not that I need him as an incentive, but he DOES accelerate things. When he's in Cambridge, he'll have the somewhat easier role of not being there constantly while I'm still going through the comprehension phase. I'll have other people to lean on for those. He'll get to see the me that won't be as stressed. That'll be over the moon to see him. That will still love him, no matter what the distance.

It's been about a week since we split up. My feelings have usually waned somewhat over this time. They haven't. That to me says a lot.

Friday, 2 July 2010

This is For You, Everything I Am

Well, thought I'd take the time out to post something up beat for a change.

Even though my Prince's Trust Team Course is going pretty shit right now with people fighting all the time, one area of my life IS going pretty well.

Bloke and I have now been together for 4 months. Well, almost 5 now. It feels like much longer and I say that in entirely a positive way. I don't know, we just... clicked. I like it. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I've never got on with any of my exes when I was with them, but this time there seems to be this amazing understanding on a level I've never had before. I like it. A lot.

There's still the odd few occassions when we don't communicate as well as we can, but eh, who said anything was perfect? For me things pretty much are right now on that front at least. Being told that you're the first serious relationship in a few years is also kinda... well... Sweet. It makes me feel really honoured for some reason. I mean, it's like my boyfriend being really picking and actually choosing to go out with me, not feeling forced into it. Don't know what his reasons were exactly, but it's all good ^_^

So yeah, liking the upbeatness after quite a shitty day really.

Thursday, 27 May 2010

Yours Is The Fire That Gets In My Head, Mine Is Desire, So Let It Burn Down Your Bed

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about the direction in which my life is heading.

I have great friends (possibly better than I deserve, although at times I get frustrated at the lack of interaction from some), an amazing boyfriend and a great opportunity to really make something out of the ashes.

Some days I find things absolutely shit to cope with; generally just after counselling on a Friday, which is why I like to keep my Friday nights busy so I don't get too down. In general, I'm coping better than I was.

My plan for this year is to get onto the aceess course this September and start my degree next September. Why do I want to go into social work? Because I'm insane. No seriously, I feel I have the empathy but the distancing to do the job well. I know the sort of shit that a lot of those people have gone through, but I'm also a great problem solver and don't sugar coat things. I start a Prince's Trust course on the 1st June for 12 weeks where I'll be getting stupid qualifications like a Level 2 in Literacy and Numeracy (as if I need one with all my GCSEs... srsly) and some more useful ones like a new Basic Food Hygeine Certificate. But yeah, all in all, it's a good thing.

As for things with my friends... Well, some are awesome, some not so awesome, some are just shit. For the ones who ARE decent... Thanks. You guys have really helped me out lately and I thank you for your patience with my various neuroses.

Regarding my boyfriend... Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell, in the 3 months we've been together (which seems much MUCH longer) we've kinda been through quite a bit. The struggle for my diagnosis almost tore us apart but I'd like to think that we both weathered it pretty well and have become closer as a result. I'm not usually great at being compltely honest with someone about how I feel and it's even worse when some days I can't even find the words to explain it. Inigo is amazingly patient with me and I'm thankful for every day that he stays in my life. If he's got an ulterior motive, I've not found it yet. This pleases me. I honestly can't think of anyone that suits me better. He ignores me putting myself down and the little things he does that make me happy... well, they cheer me up no end. Even if it's something like just bringing me round a chocolate bar or making me smile with his sick sense of humour which is shockingly like mine. There's nothing we can't and don't talk about and for once, it doesn't unsettle me. He makes an effort to understand how I feel and does a pretty damn good job at predicting what's going on in my head. My only worry at the moment is that with his possible move to Cambridge next year, we might well end up going our seperate ways. I know I can do distance and in all honesty, I should be so busy with my course that I'll find it easier to cope as I'll have a full time distraction. I'm especially liking how he's been including me in his socialising. And a certain text the other night that made me smile.

At the moment my meds are really working for me. Some of my counselling with Simon is really intense which is why I felt I needed that buffer to help me cope with every day crap and balance things a bit. Some of the stuff I deal with is pretty intense and dragging up the past is... very often painful. I know that I can conquer my demons and move on. The problem is that with my therapy, sometimes discussing one thing will make me start to make connections to others or remember other things that I'd blacked out. I made the mistake this evening of having a read over my Livejournal. I'd delete the damn thing but I want it as a kinda... well, relic I guess. So I can look back and see how damaged I was and how far I've come since. I know from the progress I made in the refuge that I've come a damn long way already. Inigo claims that I've already come really far in the time we've been together. I think he maybe doesn't quite realise how much of that has been his influence. I'm not saying it was ALL him, but he did put in a fair bit of work, whether he realised it or not. If he reads this, I think he might :P At the very least someone will point it out to him. Now I've had a couple of problems resolved, I've been much calmer the past couple of days.

So yayness is in the air ^_^