Not signed in (Sign In)
  1.  (10759.1)

    It was 19 years ago today. Sarah and I had become inseparable since we first starting hanging out at the beginning of the summer. We went to Lollapalooza 3 together just two weeks prior, when she'd lent me some of her wierdest coolest clothes. We would stay up all night listening to NIN and Tori Amos, making art projects, smoking cigarettes, hanging out in the center of town being teenagers.

    After crashing at her house one night, she and I and another friend snuck to the city together with boys we met in the mall. They had cars. We wandered New York's St. Marks Place, and Sarah told me to buy pathoulie, because it was the best. I got Flamingo Pink Manic Panic hairdye at Trash & Vaudeville, and Sarah got some shoes that looked like they walked out of Rocky Horror. We tried to buy acid, and I smoked a joint for the first time on the way home. She cut my hair with kitchen scissors so it was short in the back and long in the front, and we dyed our hair pink together. So we could continue the sleepover madness, I snuck her over to my house where we slept in the basement to not wake my mom. When my mother found us, and saw my hair, she was angry. She drove Sarah to a friend's house, and told me that she was kicking me out. I was to live with my father for the duration of the summer, and perhaps for the rest of my school career. That night I snuck out. I went to visit Sarah. I knocked on her bedroom window, and she was in tears. She'd taken the blame upon herself for my being kicked out. I went inside, and she gave me a necklace, a ring, and a card. Her mother offered to speak to my mom, but I politely declined. I invited Sarah to join me for the weekend, as my father was going to bring me to the Jersey Shore for the weekend and said I could bring a friend. Sarah cried and pleaded with her mother so she might join me, but they were to visit family that weekend, and her request was denied.

    That next night, now at my Dad's house, packing my beach things for the trip to the shore the next morning, I got a phone call. It was Sarah. She wanted to know how I was doing, to make sure I was ok. The conversation was brief.

    It wasn't until about 24 hours later that I discovered that I was one of just three or four people she'd called that night before leaping out of the window of her grandmother's apartment building to her death. She had only just turned 14.

    That was 19 years ago today. Thanks for the reminder, facebook. I feel like I was punched in the guts.


    Then of 2001:

    Songe Me

    Versus now of 2012:

    songe & me


    @Flecky - I'd marry you, friend. For your NHS, I'd clean up smashed coffee mugs every day.
    • CommentTimeJul 30th 2012
    @Rachael, I'm so sorry you have to deal with that sort of an anniversary. Hang in there, we're thinking of you. No one should have to deal with that, and even almost 20 years later, I'm sure the memory is still fresh and painful. Take care of yourself. I'm sending you all the love I can muster.
  2.  (10759.3)
    @dorkmuffin - thank you! Yeah it's wierd. I've been talking with others on facebook from that time, and we're all still broken from it. However...

    YAY: The gentleman pictured above stopped by unannounced this evening to cheer me up and brought me roses. :D
  3.  (10759.4)
    @Rachael: so sorry; that's a really heartbreaking story, and big hugs to you.

    A friend tried something similar when I was about 17, he was 18 and he'd just found out he was going blind - thank god, he didn't succeed, but we'd had a drunken conversation along the lines of 'thanks, I love you, goodbye', and I'd not realised what he was trying to tell me, until the next day, when I suddenly remembered what he's said and ran out of college and down to his flat - after I'd left, he'd gone to the station and slashed his wrists, was found by a taxi driver who took him to hospital and had been admitted to a psychiatric unit. Still makes me shudder to think of even though the outcome was OK (and I beat myself up for years because I didn't really hear him), so can't imagine how you must feel.

    As this is still here...


    We're on holiday. It's rained like a fucker. We attempted a trip out today, to a pottery painting place. Which turned out to be not there any more. So we let the kids go to a park on the seafront. Ruby, my littlest, was on a roundabout with her middle sister Rosie and another kid; the other kid was whining that it wasn't going fast enough, so Ro came over and asked me to push them. The other child was holding Roo. I pushed them round a few times, and then must have given it a shove just a touch too hard - Roo and the other girl came off. Roo fell face down in the bark chippings; the other girl said 'oops, sorry for not holding on to your daughter' and ran off. Roo was screaming 'you've broken my arm, stupid daddy, pushed me too fast'; I picked her up and gave her a cuddle, but she just kept screaming. We were hoping she was just shaken, so we decided to keep an eye on her and see if the pain stopped, but after an hour, she hadn't moved the arm and was still crying every couple of minutes so we took her to A&E. They gave her an X Ray and confirmed it was broken. She's got a cast on, and we have to go back tomorrow for the fracture clinic.

    I feel fucking awful. I was meant to be looking after her and I didn't; she trusted me not to make something like that happen and I let her down. I think of all the things that I've messed up in my life, being a clumsy idiot who's caused his four year old daughter four hours of agony and weeks of inconvenience and hassle has to rank as the worst. I mean, I've messed up myself, I've messed up relationships, I've made crap decisions, but providing the kinetic energy to injure a small child I love more than pretty much anything else in the universe... Jesus... I didn't even want to bloody push them, I'm always terrified of something like that happening.

    She's in pain and upset because she's realising that she can't do much with one arm. So fuck.

    The YAY

    Not so much... but had a lovely little walk with Rosie last night around the sand dunes, it's amazing how being with a child opens your eyes again - you're so eager to show them things, it awakens the curiosity you had when you were small too. We found new plants, shells, creatures, and talked about things. It was nice, because she normally gets overshadowed by the other two, and is usually the most difficult. But she's an incredibly kind and sensitive little girl, once you get past the drama queen


    Flecky - hang in dude.
    Rachael - yay for roses...
    • CommentTimeAug 1st 2012 edited
    @Rachael, JP - It's horrible to love something that can die. I heard that somewhere, but I don't know who originated it. But it is just the worst. To give so much power over to someone else and they don't even know what they can do to you. My best friend has tried the slashing bit and a few other disappearing acts. other people have been on hand to keep it from going terminal but it's the one thing that super pisses me off about her. Because it pisses me off about myself. I can't stop it. I'm not strong enough or loving enough or educated enough to find the broken part and fix it. It fucking terrifies me and frustrates me. Because I live in terror of the next thing that's going to make her unhappy with herself or her life and I won't be able to keep her from taking it out on herself.

    Cycling through "I hate my life, I hate myself" crap. I have SO FAR to go on every front I don't even have words. The strangest thing is how bad I don't feel about it. Maybe that's good. I used to feel utterly depressed at this point - mysterious aches, severe social anxiety, total self-hatred - now it's just... a 40 yard stare and a sense of morbidity. Maybe it's just aging. The hormones don't rage like they used to, and any sense of immortality is long gone as I contemplate perimenopause, a slowing metabolism, lessened tolerance of alcohol, diminished lung capacity, etc and think it isn't impossible for the end to come for me. I used to deal with suicidal ideation. For me it was another daydream just like daydreaming about sex. I was compelled to, but I didn't know that. It doesn't come as much any more, for which I am glad. Getting a song stuck in your head is bad enough, but getting a suicidal scenario stuck in your head when you're not suicidal is shit.

    Whatever. I am being lazy. Just horrifically... Third day in a row this week of getting out of bed in the afternoon. Because I go to bed at near dawn...because... why not. But I wake up when the house wakes. I just... don't get up. Because. Why bother.

    I'm trying to make myself bother and it's not fucking working. This is all me and my astounding laziness. I hate it. But I can't seem to get past it. I have endless reasons to get to it, to get to my life. I'm awfully overweight, I live with my parents, far from my friends and in a house that drives me batty, I have no career to speak of just some aspirations. I have no real plans.

    I want to be able to see friends more than once a month. I want my own tech to work according to spec; I'm sick of fighting with the shitty house ISP that's flakier than a cheerleader on coke & sick of three laptops each of which has a processor in some state of decrepitude. I want to buy my own food. I want a kitchen free of any vermin. I want people to reach out to me because they need what I can do (and they'll be ready and willing to pay me, goddammit). I want, I want, I want, I want, I want. But I remain on my fat ass.

    Upside of living at home for me has long been that my mom is rather generous. As much as she can be, she is after all a school teacher. But it means she's willing to lend me the money for voice classes as well as Japanese courses. it's funny I was rather worried that moving back in with her and my dad would mean they would be on me to get a job and such. (A mixed blessing that would be; they don't get why being an office clerk is a. old fashioned and b. not something I do.) Instead she's let me have the run of the house, for the most part. In any case, she's been quite helpful.

    And last night I watched this and it hit me right when I needed it.

    Fall down seven times, get up eight.
    (There's no way to embed video using the video button, is there?)

    Applesauce: Keep on trucking, Fleck, you're on the right track. JP, it's a stupid yarn, "kids bounce" but what's worth thinking about (maybe?) is that she'll heal and she'll need you to heal right along with her. She WILL need you to forgive yourself. That's as much a lesson as control is. And adults can kinda bounce too. We just forget how.
    • CommentAuthorflecky
    • CommentTimeAug 2nd 2012
    *Sigh* Fer fucksake:

    I feel like I'm in a Kafka novel at the moment; The Trial or The Castle or summat. Loads of people from meetings have been recommending a rehab just outside of Cambridge - the place sounds really good. But because no-one on the board of people who are in control of my funding have ever visited it to see what it's like they are unable to let me go there for an assessment. A woman said she may do it, but this may take weeks...maybe months. All this assessment crap is tiring me out, but this shit is probably the biggest thing I've ever done and I refuse to be fobbed-off with some bleach-cabbage minging stink-hole full of red noses. For personal reasons, I got the hump with alcoholics (even recovering ones.) The fellowship of A.A London is a bit stagnant and old, whilst N.A is more twisted, fucked-up, frenetic, chaotic, toxic, sick, and liable to explode at any moment; just like me! I make the kids laugh, and they seem to enjoy suckling on my debauched perversion. This posh snobby bloke, who is probably really nice and all, is secretary at the meeting over the road. He was going on about relapsing on chocolate liqueurs. Fuck that! If your going to relapse, mate, do-it-proper; whores, genetic-mutation, ear-blowing sonic-howls, gas bombs, self-harm, barbwire, condoms full of broken glass, cavity searches, exploding head syndrome - that sorta thing. If having chocolate liqueurs melting on your face gets you in a mess; moan about it in A.A! I need someone to focus my bile on, and currently it is him.


    Just spoke to someone, and I'm going to visit another rehab. This one has arty workshops - I need to do something arty whilst my flesh is twitching and my emotions are being gouged-out from their sockets. Hopefully, I'll do the visit next week.

    Kerosene (set me on fire!):

    @Rachael: You can have my English NHS. It's yours. Take it. *smash* - I want my coffee!!!
    @JP: Hoping your kid's bone heals OK.
    @Razrangel: Getting out of bed is a bastard; I'm struggling with it at the moment. It's not a case of laziness with me, but more that I don't want to face the day.
    • CommentTimeAug 3rd 2012 edited
    I'd just like to share with everyone that (after) a 17 year addiction I am 2 weeks smoke free since starting Chantix. It's almost as if I never picked up a cigarette, by far the best experience quitting smoking I've ever had, and I feel awesome!
    • CommentAuthordnewling
    • CommentTimeAug 3rd 2012 edited
    @LokiZero: well done! I've never smoked, but I hear it isn't easy to quit, so I'm really impressed with you.
  4.  (10759.9)
    Congrats :) Sounds like you're doing great :)
    • CommentAuthorhank
    • CommentTimeAug 4th 2012
    The Vile Wretchedness:
    I feel like a bastard. I have had to become a cranky old man because many of my close friends have become parrots who spew the "outrage of the week" without actually bothering to put it into their own words. Yes, I agree that x is horrible, but to call me a hypocrite for not instantly reposting the same goddamn image and the same words everyone else feels unacceptable. I would rather attack the problem at the source than deal with the symptoms. It really pisses me off to prefer to deal with the problems that can be solved on a personal level and be called out for not kneejerking at whatever tragedy that is going on beyond my influence. I would rather actually get results than choke everyone's social media with memes and what seems to me to be false sympathy.

    The Good
    I have been writing. It's not great, but fuck it. Practice and analysis can make things much better. (link in my profile, if you must. I will gladly take any critiquing and what not. atta boys will be gladly accepted as well.)

    For the first time in my life, I feel like I am in a decent spot professionally. This may mean shoe dropping soon, but that bridge wil be crossed as needed. Until then, I'm professionally satisfied.

    The Love.
    @Rachæl: I am sorry. It's hard when a beloved friend chooses that route. My best friend did similar in 04, while I was out having fun in a new place with new people. I got the message when I landed and found out at work that night. It's still hard. I think your friend would be proud of the person you have become and the fact that you still care enough to hurt at it is a sign of your loyalty and strength. We should all have a friend who cares as you do.
    • CommentTimeAug 5th 2012 edited

    - The fella has pneumonia. I won't be seeing him for at least a month. Am naturally nervous as hell because I have had quite a few loved ones die of pneumonia. But the plus side is that it's bacterial (the lesser of the types) and he's in the medical profession, so he can give himself good 24 hour care. Still, I worry. And not seeing him for all that time while he is on the mend is...saddening.

    - Parents are getting ready for a trip, They aren't good when it comes to traveling. They stress out too much and take it out on each other. It's not been great waking up to and coming home to confrontation.

    - work is stressing me out a bit. Been getting in a lot of trouble for not being able to read minds. Always a piss-off.


    - Keeping the weight at bay. Hopefully will be losing some more soon. Getting back in to the swing of things at the gym, so...wooo! *punchpunch*

    - The parents are going away to South Africa for over a week. Will be bliss to not have them there. Also, I have a pool.


    @hank, Ugh....I know how that is. A couple of my facebook friends have become the type of people to figure out their opinions on complex subjects from the headlines of a story. I had to be an opposing voice in a few "Men can't be raped" and "All media everywhere is racist" posts and...ugh. One of them also turned out to be an "EMERCUH IS A POLICE STATE THANKS TO MUSLIM TERRORIST LIZARD OBAMA" people and I'm REALLY trying my best not to call her out. Eventually I'm just going to remove them, but I know that feeling of being the kneejerk asshole.

    @LokiZero Keep it up!

    @JP Hope that bone is feeling okay. Has she realized that the cast makes her invincible now?
    • CommentAuthordnewling
    • CommentTimeAug 7th 2012
    The Boo: None really. I've finally gotten over that cold and recovered from a tough workload.

    The Hurrah: My birthday comes up this month. To celebrate I have just had a completely new colours put in my hair. It's taking a bit of getting used to, but I think I will like it.

    @Oldhat: I know about stress as well.
  5.  (10759.13)
    Had an incident at work yesterday with a visiting manager behaving inappropriately and scaring me to death. Had to talk to cops and 911, and a mom and just everyone; last night was just hell emotionally and exhausting.
    Having people listen and cheer me up with turtle stories helped a lot. It kept my mind from spinning out of control so:
    Thanks everyone on the WC IRC.
    Also: Just got my new art supplies.
    Guess I kinda put a bit of it in the applesauce but anyhow: Thanks everyone.
    @Hatter- tell them if they want you to read minds you'll start charging. HATTERS PSYCHIC HOT LINE. $100000/minute.
    Totally not fair of them to think you're a mind reader, and not communicating properly with you!.