This entry was originally written 18th April, 2008. The dates throghout this journal are out of order, some server error I suspect. Most are marked as August 2008, though they range from 2004 onward. This new introduction was added in 2020, and a large section of text was removed. Originally the text wall was about me coming to terms with how my internal differences aren't visible, so when I behave strangely, it's not clear why. I don't live in the eyes of other people anymore. I still worry about what they think of me, but that's part of life - finding your place in the world, like everyone else. The second paragraph was weightier to read. I think I've accepted myself now, faults included. .. Imagine having no noticeable signs of any difference, but that everything you did and felt was exaggerated. Emotions are felt more wildly, exciting thoughts race faster, and you move quicker than anyone else. Imagine also behaving completely erratically at some times and normal at others, and imagine that your mind instinctively moves onto every new impulse it takes in. But imagine that, because all of your behaviour is just an exaggeration of normal behaviour, nobody acknowledges your difference. Imagine the fear of living like this, responding so intensely to everything, always one impulsive step away from catastrophe, never sure when you’ll be ok and when you’ll be a handful… but always sure that nobody will ever realise that there’s a reason you’ve setting the toast on fire for the fourth time in a week, arriving two hours late for a wedding or stepping into busy traffic. I am an intelligent, charming young man, and people just don’t understand why I behave so ridiculously. ~ Let’s talk about something nicer now though. My life. I went for an interview at Loughborough recently. I didn’t plan, didn’t revise for any questions I may have been asked, and completely messed the whole thing up. Afterwards I went to a café and began to write. The entry is still on one of my handwritten journals, it’s the first thing I’d written, for my personal pleasure, in a-g-e-s, and marked the beginning of this year’s journal (while my trip to Norwich marked the beginning of 2008’s poetry). Anyway, I’m sitting in this café and I’m dressed exactly how I always wanted to dress: in posh but comfy shoes, with a fashionably cool shirt, awesomely sweet jeans and a completely complimenting belt, and I realise, this is where I always wanted to be. What I wanted to be doing. I remembered how much I love travelling and looking good. But there was more than that, because I was becoming the man I envisioned myself becoming by the time I was 21. This comes as a dawning realisation to me now, as I piece my memories together and realise how happy I am with myself! And it gets better. I still have downfalls, but my room is gorgeous and perfectly compliments me, my personality is fresh and unique, I am incredibly charming, and, dare I say it, people love me! I can’t believe how lucky I’ve been, for having the capacity to become what I am. At the same time, I’m infinitely proud of myself for always pushing myself to be the person I knew I could be. The only thing holding me back is this damn disorder business. Everything else is amazing. Tomorrow I go to Mum’s house to study for an essay I’m writing, then I gotta seriously revise some hardcore biology, DNA and stuff. It’s all so exciting!

It's 5am and I haven't been here in over a year. I've been with Dora for... what, like a year and 4, 5 months? We're really good a the moment. In my old journals I'd go on to describe how and why. I've just sprung up from my bed. I was thinking about friends. I don't seem to be very good at getting and keeping them, at least not god ones. I had them, sort of, as a kid. I think. Actually, for the most part i was a loner, buckling down with school work, reading whenever possible, and constantly thinking. My favourite reading memory is of a beautiful green copy of the complete illustrated works of Lewis Carrol after bed time. I was about 8 years old, and would read for an hour at a time by game boy magnifier light under my duvet. Hmm. Funny how memories captivate you. I'd remembered that book for years, but only just recalled the game boy light. That memory trace blossomed and lead to emotions not associated with the remembered phrase "i read lewis carrol", but with the actual memory itself, which had gone unexperienced since around that age. Diverging: Back to friends. I was an odd child, the effects of this were likely exaggerated somewhat by me wearing a different uniform to everyone else, as my mum had bought for me a required black jumper that nobody else seemed to own. So i stood out as different immediately. But the most important cause of -- what, lonerism? Mild self isolation? -- was that i was odd. I was diagnosed from an early age (~6yrs) with OCD, Tourette's and ADD, so all the symptoms of children living with these mental differences were present in me (except vocal tics; that only occurs for like 30% of people with Tourette's). I can only rely on my mum's memories as I barely rememebr anything from primary school, and she's told me stories of such things as full-body tics, or stroking a particular male classmates hair for a texture i was fond of. He was ok with it, and the class accepted my wealth of oddities. Nonetheless, this oddness no doubt had an impact on my friendships. Or perhaps I was never particularly interested in friends? In primary school I had a few good friends - Adrian, Sahnat, Kelly etc. Others I can't remember. But I just remember hanging out with myself more than anyone else. Wandering the playground. Interestingly, i was never short of girls asking me out and was almost always in a relationship. For such an odd boy, 4 girlfriends before puberty isn't too bad. There are hazy memories of other female interest, all astonishingly pointing towards there being something in me that people desired, even despite the weirdness. This contrasts sharply with the the image i had of myself growing up through puberty, even until just recently. It's only recently that I'v realised I have a choice in who I get with, and that I don't just have to settle with whoever I think I can get. In secondary school I had... eugh, less inclanation to write about myself so endlessly. But I still found it incredibly hard to sleep. It's 6am, I got distracted editing the Bedazzled story below, probably the only other available post to this journal out of around 700 entries. There are 3 other journals I used to keep here, but this was my main one. There are others at other sites, too. I used to love writing.

I seriously thought i was done with this. Today i woke up beside a gorgeous girl, we fooled around then held each other, and i couldn't have been more relaxed. Tonight, i went to see Hadouken perform in Lancaster library, one of the few gigs i've seen and one of my favourite groups. It couldn't have gone better. Before i came back to my room, i cuddled that same girl for ages, and felt so secure, wanted and safe. How should i feel now? When i get to see her againa in just a few hours, i get to go home soon for x-mas, my room is warm and i know i'm gonna do well for my exam in a few days, how am i feeling right now? I'm well liked, funny and intelligent, creative and spontaneous, got everything going for me. Second year uni student and most definitely the capacity for a high degree mark. I love people, i love life, i love living. So how do i feel right now? Horribly, horribly sad. I feel as though there's a whole inside me sucking out all the good. Then happy, amazingly elated, positive and good. The relaxed, then indifferent, then numb. Than bad again. All the time. I don't wanna write this but i think i need to. Despite everything, i keep feeling sad. Really sad. But then it goes away and i'm ok again, and i'm up. When i'm up i feel optimistic, positively empathetic and appreciate everything in the world, all the things people do, all the good of mankind, and all the pleasant qualities in my friends. I feel energised, enthusiastic, chirpy and powerful. I can talk for ages, truly listening with genuine interest because i'm so excited by what the other person's saying to me. When i come down, which is almost always without warning, i feel worthless, empty and tearful, and can only see the negative in everything. I have no energy, i'm incredibly irritable and aggressive, and when i snap at someone all i want to do is hurt them. And i do. Mostly i feel a mix, in an excess of emotion. I feel like i could burst with feelings, cry with joy or sob with sadness. I'm very volatile.

This is a creative writing piece for my first year minor at university. It was written years ago (2007?), for the now inactive everyone sitdiary, a colaborative journal with a public password. The pice was slightly refined for submission. It's certainly not my best work. Bedazzled It was the most striking sculpture he'd ever seen, curved to natural perfection, encrusted with dazzling jewels that lit up like tiny suns and mirror eyes that reflected the sorrow in his soul. The boy stood and stared in the middle of the street, captivated by this amazing figure of an immaculate person. It was so flawless it seemed alien, almost too attractive to be human. It stood proud like the most gorgeous of all heaven's angels, upon its pedestal in the centre of the tiny town. The bewildering thing about it was that it could only have been crafted by the hands of common folk. There were no more artists in his world, nobody who could ever have poured into it the love that had shaped in such a splendid way... So how could it be so radiant? It was an irrelevant mystery. What mattered was that she was beautiful. At first the boy paid short, infrequent visits, since he had other errands to attend to - commitments to friends and family, and a well-paying job - but as time progressed his passing-bys became sit-ins, as the rest of the world faded away and this incredible piece of art became everything to him. The world seemed different now that she was in it. Unlike in movies and story books, where everything around a character becomes bright and glowing when they fall in love, his experience of life became grey and mundane beyond her. He'd started out as a little distracted, but gradually, as his obsession grew, he became trapped in a downward spiral of self sacrifice. Friends gradually merged into the fog that was his world beyond her. By the 3rd month of fantasy he'd stopped returning their calls, so they'd stopped making the futile effort of attempting contact. They could no longer connect with the dazed, absent boy they thought they once knew. His work faded away a long before that, he was fired after two weeks of no appearances, but he didn't care. He didn't even realise. His world was her now. Eventually his need grew too strong, and at 3am one grey night he stole the statue away. It seemed that nobody would notice, they never even paid attention to her, and even if they did, they couldn't show her the appreciation he could. Now he was able to spend every waking moment with the woman he loved. At first she was warm to his touch, and he felt her love him back. He could slide his hands across her curves and feel the connection between man and marble. Her warmth was a solace to him, it lifted him up and filled him with colour and life. But the longer he spent with her, the cooler she became. He thought to give her space, and left her, even for weeks at a time, but when he returned she was colder than before. Soon it pained him to touch her, her frozen icy surface burning his skin. His hands became scabbed and scarred. But he refused to give up hope, and over the next month built a huge incubator for her. It was almost equal to her in it's grand complexity, and he was even slightly proud of himself when he finally completed her gift. He wrapped it around her, his great huge warming hug machine. But when he returned to her the next day he found, once again, she had not changed. She was not warmer. Puzzled, he decided his creation was surely faulty. He proceeded to craft an incubator that would be larger, better, and flawless. This task would take him years, building on what he'd already made until the hug machine dwarfed his object of worship. For all his efforts he would only suffer. It made no difference, no matter how much he tried. He spent the rest of his life trying to warm her up, eventually dying in the process from exhaustion and malnutrition having dedicated every last bit of energy to her. It never once occurred to him that the cold was not coming from outside, that his own creation only served as a wall between him and the truth, and that no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried to keep her warm, he could never change what she was inside.

EDIT: For my first year at university, i "studied" creative writing. This involved going to a few lectures on the topic, until the lecturer said everything in the course was in a book he wrote (this one). I submitted my own stuff bi-weekly. I also had to critique other's work, some of which was great. I hooked up with the best writer there a few times, she was a sweet sub. Memories of mead. The stuff below was put here so that I could copy + paste to print out all my work. I want to stress, there's only one new poem here (Dolphin Dreams, written 5 minutes on a bus, and a very early version). The rest are years old. The first one though is a somewhat recent re-write of a stoned scrawl from my pot junkie days, when I was about 8 1/2 stone. It was a bad choice, deciding to waste a year on 'Creative Writing', but such is life. If i hadn't participated in the course, these would have been forgotten, perhaps for the best, as they're all rough and samey even after revisions. I'd ask you not to judge my ability on these, my illustrious, invisible, imagined audience, but since i have produced nothing better since, there's nothing else to go by. Ho-hum. The last story is my favourite. You Make Me Sick The panic reminds me of sick dizzy confusion, Old migraine vomit and pain. The fear holds me tight as my eyes widen in horror And I realise I cannot refrain From recalling the times when everything turned to hate. It's all coming back to me now, The cuts and the scars, your caring abuse, The bullshit I somehow allowed. I knew it was coming, as my body fell over, Sick from the smell of stale piss. My stomach screaming at me, I wish to be numb, And hate my continued weakness. Those old metal bowls, in the public toilets, They're the places I hate to see most, Through tear soaked eyes there's a face retching bile, Puke pouring all over my clothes. And I�m wishing to stop, let go of this life That you beat into shape just for me: End this right now, pick off the old scabs, Start with a new memory. But the endless stream flows and my back's buckling now, I can't hold myself up for much longer. Thank you so fucking much for the twisted disease You never knew you were feeding your daughter. Dolphin Dreams Dolphin dreams of Walking with people. It's on his to-do list, High up there, with Befriend a shark, Start a business, And write an autobiography. There's a fair bit to put into it: He once dated a French girl, And saw King Neptune in a restaurant. Even knew Ariel, Before she sold out to Disney. He reckons he's had a good life. Few regrets. Still misses his French girl - She left him for another European. But hey, Plenty more fish in the sea. Reading Hour In pen and in pencil Expertly arranged Colourful monochrome Drips from the page Words and wisdom Prose and rhyme Climb inside someone's skin Or a portal through time Floating The image of desire painted slightly over sky Borrows sorrow from the memories scattered lightly over time Obsessions over silver skin and times when you were mine But all that's left remaining is a self-destructive lie The frantically demolished lie silent, cold and still God cries out for all our pain but still allows us to feel The beauty of destruction is the only thing that's real Truth is dead and bloodied while our scars will never heal Once upon a time was bliss but now we long to follow Across the oceans of embrace to meet again tomorrow The distance is dust vapour and the heart is a black hollow An empty sac of sadness that we're aching to just swallow Seduced at first by the promise of new life The rebirth of old faces and a fresh will to survive But all is lost when we slip up and no hope is left to thrive Now all that's left remaining is a self-destructive lie Restraint Your head feels bust And your mouth tastes of rust From blood gargled and spat out last night And you want to cry Feel so messed up inside But everyone says it'll all be alright It's hard to believe When you're on your knees And the faith and the hope have dried up But you try to smile In blatant denial Of the fact that your heart feels tied up A faint old tune plays As you sleep through each day In a bed made of ash, built for one The drug is right there But you feel too scared Of what they'll say when they see what you've done The pills should've helped Instead you just felt Like everything had become so much clearer Waking each day To suffer in vain And ending it knowing the answer Spontaneous thoughts Outline in white chalk The person they thought you could be Inconsistency bends Your image of strength Always brings you back down to your knees If you could just feel If your wounds would just heal Then it might disappear this time 'round But dreams are all lies And everyone dies Nothing matters when you're underground Mother's Day Fond memories of play-parks Theme parks and fun larks High times and hard times That pushed away or helped to bind And everything that helped to build Or helped lift up or helped to heal The moments that make up a life Never forgotten, they keep us alive Savage Romance The mechanics of desire never considered That you may be required to be beaten down And force-fed a farce of spit, spite and blood Split into halves by a sick diseased clown You were once a saint among so many black hearts Looked so young as you waited in your tainted armour So she argued with haste as you fell apart Expectations misplaced by her misinformed father After scripts burnt out and an awkward silence Came a history of bouts in gloves dusted with dry ice Your anxiety prevailed as the days turned into months And your honesty soon failed as she lusted for those fights That cruel kid with a penchant for misery and scars But seductively painted with a face of fake charm You shed your true tears for tragic circumstance And built brand new fears for her own false harm She was once taught like a child in a cast People can be fought until they break or bend Manipulation is the word that brings life to ugly masks But if cannot be heard and it cannot be read An invalid arrangement so she'd feel strong Mood swings and knife rage beat your ego to pulp You can't deny you betrayed her 'cause she's never wrong And all of her hurt was always your fault The All-Natural Orchestra! We extend to your person a grand invitation To get down and boogie and dance to the rhythm Of a handcrafted mirror ball mosaic drum So join in with us and take your well-earned turn To entice all others and lead by the hand A mish-mash of merry men, an exciting new band Of flip-flops and castles and sparkling glitters And cherry-topped sundaes and pineapple fritters And everyone smiley or with rugged hair Dance in the streets and let others stare Wear the robes of a king or a clown And turn all those frowns right upside down! Smiles The stare at you with Shattered window headlight eyes In the shape of pig hearts, Hands bloody with white lies That they feed you and say, "Might just hurt, but never kill" Dripping cold, thick slime From their fake scaled gills And screaming orders the others Shut up and obeyed Pushing you to your knees In the blood pools they've made Faking reasons and excuses That are born with no feet And spitting through their teeth, "Unique just means weak" You Would Never Guess, Unless You Saw Her Scream Schoolgirl valentine smiles in Red leather bondage, studded with spike metal, Leaps across the empty mountains after midnight, Spreads her arms like a confused mistress Holding the world on her back, Buckling shoulders support an ancient "Something she'll never understand". Ties an old ghost to a withering tree In a burning forest, Leaves him to melt to a fierce bubbling Puddle of foolish hope And skips the funeral To attend a dragon's ball, Hosted by a myth that cries itself to sleep. Arrives on the arm of a cheap lie, In crystal stilettos sticking to fishnet stockings, And faded dress worn with friction, Faking concern for the charity of the night. Waltzes as everything heads to its climax On an empty spiral floor, That rises erect to the sky, With her on top, writhing and shaking. Leaps from the clouds at dawn As her breath turns to ice, Soars past a hundred homeless hearts and Sprouts huge wings, Rises to the glowing sun, fades out of sight, Then ignites in a blinding flash That fills the sky and leaves nothing Feeling whole anymore. Crib death Wanting to be everything that she could Knowing she's not, that she misunderstood And all that she was is now left behind And all she can do is crawl back and hide Filling her warmth with left over spite Giving her all in every last fight It shouldn't be, shouldn't end up this way Thought it was clear but she's been led astray Cycles of doubt and furious rage Blood splatters drip over her rusted cage Never leave me again, she says to the next Ignoring new holes on her aging neck Sometimes she remembers what she used to dream That one day she'd see all that she could be But she'll disappear with no idea who she was With nothing to gain, nothing can be lost mirror eyes She likes to watch the people, As they pass her by. She likes to see their eyes flicker to each others, Likes to watch them breathe. To see them smile, And hug, and kiss, Likes the contact and the comfort. Likes to see when he buys her flowers, When she kisses him back, and he's happy. She likes to watch the people. Her only wish, She tells herself, Is to get out there, With all those pretty people. Breathing with them, Moving with them, being with them. She wants to meet the people who Will kiss her cheeks in greeting, And the other people who will give her Beautiful smelling flowers and creamy, Soft chocolates. She wants to feel the warmth of each person As they brush past her skin. But she can't. She shouldn't, She knows that she can't. Tonight then, she prays, To be with the others, To be part of it all. Prays to be involved, To be unified, To touch them. Because, That's all she really wants. Morning comes, she hopes she is free, To be able to reach out to all of them. She hopes that hope is enough, and She proceeds. For the briefest of moments She feels her soul lift up high into the clouds, With them all, And finally feels unified. But then she notices something strange, Something unusual, Something she's never noticed before, Through her mirror eyes. She notices the tears of the people, Notices the hurt on their expressions. The aimlessness of their wanderings, And no longer is the drip-drip-dripping Of each tiny raindrop so exciting anymore, No longer does she stand in awe. She looks harder, but only seems To push her people even more From forms of beauty To objects of selfish flesh and blood. She realises how free she truly was before. And all she can do is stand. Night falls, and the groups disappear, Leaving the select few rushing In and out of doors, Refraining to hesitate, Or even establish eye contact. Waiting for someone to bring her the flowers, To kiss her, to greet her; Waiting for nobody, Tears fall from her cheek, Devouring her entity, While no-one will stop to save her, To help her, To comfort her. The sun makes it's return, Drying her icy tears, Hardening them against her flesh. As dawn breaks, her very own wish Casts her into a stone casket Of solid sorrow, And she becomes another statue, Another centre-piece To brighten up Their self indulgent lives.

When we started, everyone was happy, but they warned me. When it was happening, i was generally unhappy. They told me what a fool i was. Destruction is imminent, they would say. Pain is unavoidable. When we finished, everyone was happy again, but as they say, they'd warned me. Still dropping spiteful comments. I'm being played, they'd say. Right where i'm wanted. All this is was stressful. I didn't know wether to believe the rumours, the "wisdom", and cut her off completely, like a cancer. image: two children crippled, holding each other up. when each looks away, the other cries. they both carry mirrors on their back. onlookers tut in church dress and shake their heads. I am so tired of people sabotaging that which they can't have, just to spite others. "It's not out of spite", they say; Then what is it that possesses you to do such things? If you were decent, you would consider the effect your words and actions will have. But, clearly, you are not. image: great salivating beast blindly trampling fingers like ants, bundling towards unknown destination Concerning Miranda: she left me without reason, told me she wasn't interested in anyone but resumed her "dates" as though we were never together, and still openly flirts with me. Why was i ever so captivated? My esteem suffered another hit when we broke up. What happens when a person is told, over and over and over, that they're not worth even close to what they thought they were? Over and over again. image: clock melting on stage. doesn't seem to ever stop. audience laughs and applauds. "Yeah, i hurt him, doesn't matter, he smiles back at me now". Am i angry (Does it matter unless i am, since anger is the only emotion you really understand)? I told you the answer to that. An old friend said the following, and showed everyone what she was underneath her skin: "When we're on pills and someone gets down, the only reason we try to bring them back up is so that we can feel better ourselves, don't you think?" image 1: empty landscape for miles. tiny character attempts to paint a rainbow in the sky and frustrates themselves when they can't accomplish the task. image 2: aforementioned onlookers beaming and gurning, tearing holes in paper landscape. behind is an army. they still tear, screaming their parents never loved them. nothing comes out of their mouth. Do you know what the most ridiculous thing is? EVEN IN MY DREAMS i still stick up for her. You can take your fake loyalty and push it down your throat. I would have done anything for you. image: bandaged hand. knife through each finger. hand trying to make a fist, fingers can't bend. open locket in palm, about to slip away. locket is facing down. smell of burning.

Had an arguement with Miranda today. She constantly blows me off, and it upsets me. I don't mean, she's cancelled on me a couple of times. I'm talking over 20 since we've been going out. She's done it over and over so that i haven't seen her for weeks at a time. She blew me off for this past Friday AND Saturday. Friday, she was working, but Saturday, she felt plans with someone else were suprior. No, they don't live miles away. Yes, she can see that person anytime. Yes, i was tryin to be nice about it. And yes, it bloody hurt. So i blew up at her. I try to let it go, but this is the one thing she does that really, really hurts me. I can even stand her interupting me in the middle of a sentance about something completely unrelated now. That's her, she's like that, i can deal with it. I'd rather she didn't do it, 'cause it's very degrading, but she's not doing it to spite me, and she knows it bugs me. But she's impulsive, and i can't lie and say i'm not just as bad, because i am. My mum was talking to me today, for example, and i paused her to ask what she was eating, since i could smell peanuts. I didn't do it quite so rudely as it's done to me, but i get why she does it. But cancelling on me time after time after time. I sent her a text message saying that it's too much rejection for me to handle, that i understand why she's cancelled on me and that it wasn't so bad the first 10 times, but it's really taking the piss now. I said "every time you reject me i feel even more unimportant and worthless, and the worst thing is that you don't see that". And it's true. She wouldn't do it if she kew how upset this little thing makes me. I once cancelled on Bob, my little brother. It was different; i forgot that i had plans with him (i was supposed to be attending a huge exam drama performance), and had agreed to overtime at work. He was seriously gutted. I couldn't imagine telling him that i couldn't attend because i made plans with friends and hand't forgotten at all. I'm angry with her, but i don't want to hurt her. I want her to understand, and say "im sorry, i don't ever want to hurt you again", instead of faking a sweet smile and cutting another fucking slit into my back when i turn around. I am unhappy. I've tidied my bedroom, cleaned up, made everything shiny again, and that helped. Oh, and i had a ciggerette for the first time in many months. Just for the hell of it, to see if i'd want more, to see if it was as good as it used to be. I guess, because i could. Yeah, it was ok. Vanilla tobacco, so it wasn't as vile as it ever was. It's past 2AM and i need to get to bed. There's something i've been meaning to do.

I like thinking, pondering, wondering, considering, fantasising, daydreaming, musing and exploring my mind. I like film. I like movies that are fun, like most people. Comedy and action, both very good. But i like films that break their own genre stereotypes, films that are nothing like anything else. I like films that make you think. I like films that allow you to live someone elses life, then step back after two hours and consider that life. I like films that play with themes of identity and character, and the nature & development of self; the point, the possibilities and limits of life; emotional society; downward spirals filled with hurt, pain, anger, sorrow, grief, despair, and abandonment, loneliness and isolation. I like films that make me cry, and films that linger for weeks, months or years. I like music. I like most music that deals with similar issues described above, but that's hard to find and when i do find something that appeals lyrically, the melodies are unappealing. Relationships, identity, sex, drugs and partying are also themes i like in music. My favourite artists, and the ones i grew up listening to, are mainly Marilyn Manson, Pink Floyd, Nine Inch Nails, Radiohead. I also like System Of A Down, Pendelum, Mindless Self Indulgance, Tool, Garbage, David Bowie, Eminem, Placebo, Depeche Mode, Muse, Stabbing Westward, D12, Alice In Chains, Audioslave, The Beatles, Rammstein, Fatboy Slim, Bach, Prodigy, A Perfect Circle, Portishead, Thomas Newman, Black Eyed Peas, Rasputina, Switchblade Symphony, Limp Bizkit, Queen Adreena, Moby, Massive Attack, Pearl Jam, Slipknot, Ten In The Swear Jar, Rob Dougan, Tweaker/Chris Vrenna, Mogwai, SerArt, Aphex Twin, Enigma, Shaggy, Smashing Pumpkins, Finger Eleven, Fugees, Sopor Aeternus, American Head Charge, Infected Mushroom, Spineshank... and others that i'm not as keen on, but still enjoy frequently. I put so much effort into deciding the impact and consequences of my actions. You can feel me, my self, pouring from these words, these little lists. I put myself into every word, the structure, the content, and what it all stands for is 'i'. I've bled my heart in revealing such a simple and trivial thing as musical interest. Now, what does it say about me that i do that?# That is a question i am scared to explore. It says that i care enormously about other people's opinions, even having never met such people. It says that i fear everyone is a critic. It says i want to be universally liked, and understood at the same time (how come not one person i know is even close to being on my level?). I also speaks on who i want to be, and who i think i am. The diversity, for instance, of the list of musical interests is representitive of an assumed diverse character, which would seem to cater to many other character's needs - a social chameleon who, in contrast to this, is very antisocial. Why is he (am i scared to confront myself in 1st person?)-- am i -- antisocial? Here's something i don't want to admit: I speak to someone, then consider what i have said, wondering if it was the right way to put across what i was intending to say. I wonder if they understood what i'd meant, and what they now thought of me because of what i've said or implied. I consider their idea of me as a person, before and after what i've said. I go on to panic that --** I don't do this to everybody, but i'm suspicious of some people as to what they'll think of me. Work collegues, for instance. Small talk at work gets me so fucking flustered. I wanna have deep, personal conversations with the people i meet, i don't wanna talk about the weather and the boss and, oh, someone broke in last night but didn't steal anything ohmygod the police have come in wow this so affects our lives in such inummerable ways... but people don't wanna talk deep, they wanna talk shit. I don't like talking shit. So why do i care so much? **--I panic. I've just re-read and edited the previous section, and realised, when i speak to people i don't know, i panic. Why do i panic? Why is there idea of me so important? Perhaps, because i don't have a concrete idea of myself and so i look for traits that can become me in the way other people view me; in fact, in the way people are in general. I assume, though, that everyone picks up personal habits from others, but personality traits? What is really left of my personality when i'm striped of the symptoms of my disorders? Without the attention problems of bouncing from thought to thought, the esteem crushing tics, and the never ending cycles of obsessive thinking, what is left of me?

I was having a great day today. I was exhausted from waking up early (although t was worth it), but i knew that i would get so see Miranda later that day, so i was in a fantastic mood! She'd asked me to stay over as much as possible, saying she wanted to spend as much time with me as possible, which i was thrilled at! I felt so wanted!. So i call her on my break, and she says "so when do you want to see me?" I'd just been blown off again. I remembered that horrid rejected feeling, and the rest of my day was shit. I let my energy fade away, fell half-asleep, and remembered why i hate my job sometimes. I'm writing this here because i'm scared to confront her, because everytime something slightly awkward comes up, i've gotta put up with her sulking for an hour (although yesterday i somehow cut it down to half an hour), and then have to take the blame. Yesterday she got stropy with me because she ********. I tried to tell her it's ok at first, like i normally do, and she completely ignored me. Eventually i got frustrated by the fact that she was stropping over nothing and had a go at her because i felt rejected, ignored, unwanted and taken for granted, among other things. Later, she claimed that it was my fault, that i was being mean so she was sulking, which -really- pissed me off, since i had nothing whatsoever to do with it. I didn't even say anything "wrong" in this instance. In the end, i imitated her sulking, and we sat in the cold doing It seems that giving her attention, in ANY form, good or bad, has no effect whatsoever. So, much as it's hard for me not to try to console her, i'm gonna have to hold back my concern, because i only end up making things worse. My point is, it's not very nice not being able to say something i know she's not gonna like because it means i'm gonna be punished for it for an hour, and then treated like i did something momumentally wrong afterwards. Anyway, being blown off didn't bug me. She had things to do, so what? It was the way it was done. The indirect, "im-not-gonna-see-you-but-im-not-gonna-say-that", confrontation avoidance that bugged me. The convenienet amnesia; forgetting that she wanted to spend the night with me. Again, it's not a big deal to wait one single night. It's just, sometimes i really feel like she doesn't trust me enough just to say "i can't make it, i'm sorry", like i'm gonna rampage to her house and scream at her. In fact, she blew me off recently, but i didn't care, i'd forgotten about it. She took a nap before she was meant to see me, and when i called, she said she waas too tired and was really not up for going out. She told me the truth, she apologised, and i didn't care, because i'd rather she be happy than drag her out of her bed for her just to come over to my house and fall asleep in mine. She didn't make me feel bad, and made certain of that, and i loved her even more for it! I'm gonna say what i intended originally to say now, before i started ranting about what upset me today. Oh, one more thing: Matt and Ellie came to see me today. Just before they did, a lady came up to me and asked if i knew "where Robert [was], because he put some shopping by [for the lady speaking]". I said, no, i'm afraid not, he doesn't work on tills, he kinda floats around; i don't even know what he does in the shop! She said, "well do you nkow where he is?" Now, haven't i just answered the fucking question? I said, uh NO. I don't. Exit lady, enter Ellie & Matt. Lady returns, repeat cycle, except i say that the only thing i can do is look for him, because i DON'T KNOW WHERE HE IS. I mean, what does she fucking think? That i have a secret beacon in my ass that i whip out, whenever a customer hassles me enough, that somehow calls on any member of staff i like? Despite my offer to consume my time and energy searching for this guy, she strops off again! Ellie: "What a bitch!" Ha, i know, i say! And just to prove her point, she shouts at me when she finds him by LOOKING HERSELF to alert me she -has- found him. But hang on a sec, doesn't this kinda prove nothing but the fact that if she bloody borthered to look in the first damn place, we would have both been saved a lot of wasted effort?!?! Fucking idiot customers. They just don't bother any more, they just ask the first person in uniform they see! Proving my point, i'm constantly being asked by people for help out of my shop. God, im sick of fully grown adults incapable of doing things for themselves! ...BREATHE... So it all worked out with Miranda, and we're better than ever. She chats to me more, she smiles more, and she's interested in sex again! We had a gerat day yesterday, visiting the museum and generally hanging out. We experimented in switching positions in role play and out-of-the-bedroom (ie, in the museum toilets) sex, both of which were very exciting. See, the problem with sex for me (and i think Miranda shares the feeling to an extent, i've not talked to her on this as yet) is that, as much as i love fucking - and i do love fucking her - i love to try new things. One of my sex books tipped "Give a new position a try every month", while we'd be cramming 3 new positions into every session! She seems the same (in that the same-old-same-old is fantastic, but new is better), but she's not quite as adventerous as i am - but then, i've done a lot more, and done it for longer. I'm just not sure how much more there is without branching into areas i know she's uncomfortable with. Hmm. I think what i'm actually saying is i'm experiementing quite rapidly. I think, to remedy this, i need to branch off on one thing and practise it, play with it, see just how much we can both get out of it. When we take everything to the brink, then we can try something else. Then we can betetr mix 'n' match, and so on, with orgasms aplenty! So, yeah, it was awesome to spend some time just chilling together. It didn't cost me anything too, which was fantastic!

So, what exciting things have happened to me lately? Well, not many. I did get incredibly mashed on new year's day though, and gurned the sides of my mouth into a pulp of dead white flesh which stings when i eat. I also split up with my girlfriend then made up later yesterday... i think there was some tension because i sparked her brother. Here's the short story: I'm sitting in her front room playing video games with Miranda (my gal), when her brother comes in, yelling to "turn the fucking tv down"! So, in comes this prat giving it all this gob. He seems to think that he can treat people like shit because... well, i don't know why. His mum and sister lwet him get away with it, so he's never learnt different. I've always said that one day someone's gonna give him a smack in the mouth. Heh, and guess what i did? Well, anyway, i start to get up to turn down the tv, 'cause he was asleep after all. But as i'm getting up, he squeals again "turn the fucking tv down"!! Now, i've already taken his shit once, and i've actually obeyed this tosser out of consideration, but he's still yelling at me! I turn to face him and shout back, "alright!". Now there must be something wrong with this boy's head, because he seems to think that it'a ok to shout at people, and that they won't shout back! But i did, and ooh, he didn't like this, no, the little boy did not. So he steps up to me. This kid! This stringy little bean steps up to me! Now i'm gonna stop this for a sec. Miranda's brother, Paul, has been a cunt to me since he met me. Contrary to his behaviour, i'd always been polite and nice to him. I'm that kinda guy, i don't really deal in unpleasantries. But for some reason, he's always been a total sod to me. So, just recently, i figured it ain't gonna make a damn bit of difference wether i try to be nice or just don't bother. So i stopped caring. And it's not just me he's a cunt to. He shouts at his mum; she's afraid to talk to him. And he treats Miranda like his little maid, calling her up when he's hungry to get her to come home and make him a meal, because although she's many years younger than him, he's still incapable of doing it for himself. I asked Miranda just why he's a bastard to me, and she told me that it's not just me, it's everyone. Anyway, so he steps up to me. But Paul most certainly AIN'T all that. I shake me head in disbelief: i can't belief he's serious! But he lunges for me! He actually swings for me! Of course, he misses by a clear mile, but, oh, he's started now, and i automatically sock him, BAM, BAM, BAM again, straight to the face. Not like it's gonna make him any less pretty! I knock him down and back, and he crawls like a baby into his room; i'm still cool, he's nothing to get stressed about, but then he emerges with a hammer -- a fucking hammer! -- in his hands, screaming that he's gonna muck me up unless i leave! Hands up, i move to the door and leave, as he slams it behind me. He starts a fight on his own grounds and flees, only to return brandishing a weapon! C'mon!! Anyway, i hear him shouting at Miranda (see what i mean? Piece of shit's gotta shout at someone else 'cause he knows he can't shout at me), squealing at the only person who'll take his whining. I wait for a while outside, then knock on the door. Miranda comes out, telling me he's put a whole in my Playstation! And i'm astonished! What a fucking pussy! 'Course, he cried to his dad, so now i'm in his bad books. I wonder what he told daddy? That he screamed at me even after i did what i he told me to do? That he started on me because i stood up to him? That he swang for me because i scoffed, or that he threatened me with a metal hammer because i defended myself? And i'll bet he didn't tell him that he smashed my console because he couldn't touch me? Well, in the end, i'm laughing. He paid for a new console (one that works better than my old one!) So, as i said to my good friend Ellie, i wonder if he's learnt his lesson? His attitude cost him three blows to the face, and his temper cost him �75! What i was most upset about though, was the fact that when Miranda came out after the incident, she started blurting out excuses for him, telling me that "you've gotta handle him properly"! I was calm until she started this, but eventuall i held her and told her it was ok, since she was just trying to be the mediator, the "mother hen". Anyway, at least if he goes off again she can tell him to shut his face of she'll get her boyfriend to sort him out! And it was so nice to see her grin when i told her how great it was to throw my fist into his face. Well, he's "banned" me from coming round, but it's not up to him unless Miranda decides so. Seems that she's not only letting him get away with swinging for her boyfriend and threatening him with a hammer (just because i stood up for myself?!?!), but she's also letting him stop her from seeing me at her convenience. It's all up to her, but i can't see her doing anything about it, which is a shame. She told me that if she stood up for herself, she'd became some sort of angry dragon person that i wouldn't like anymore. But i'm not an angry dragon person..? I can understand she's scared, but what's he gonna do? Threaten her with a hammer too? So that's the most exciting thing that's happened to me recently.

Work's stressful at the moment; we've not got our two most important people from our department. Normally, there's a stockroom guy, a supervisor, a demi-supervisor, and me on tills. This week, there's me and the demi-supervisor. He's doing really well though. I stayed behind at work today to help him out, since we've got an area manager coming in on Wednesday and he's gotta be in charge of the department, which is normally the supervisor's job. He's scared, but he's good at what he does, and the shop manager's gonna help him out. He's never done an area manager inspection before; he shouldn't have to, it's not his job. But, as i say, he's doing well, and has been supporting me well this week. I got slaughtered yesterday with Matt & ellie. Lotsa lager, lotsa shots, and a packet of scampi fries. Good fun, what i rememebr of it. I know i got a burger or chips or something when i left Ellie's, but i can't for the life of me remember what i actually bought. I remember standing in queue somewhere, but i got impatient and fed up with everyone around me, so i left. I woke up this morning, somehow in Miranda's bed, completely naked ..(hmm?). Apparently, i'd missed out on some kinky shit, but i wouldn't have remember it anyway =s. She was gonna come over today, but she said she had to babysit, which really sucks, especially since Paul can do that. I was pissed off. It's fair enough that she's gotta look after her siblings, but it bugs me that she doesn't stand up to her mum (i normally see her as very very strong) even enough to say that Paul can do it while she does what she'd planned to do with me! And then she told me that she won't be staying around on Friday/Saturday, just to add insult to injury. I was thoroughly gutted since i'm gonna need her at the end of this week, and i only agreed to work on Wednesday (which is normally my Miranda day), 'cause i'd get Friday off, so i could spend that day with her instead. Bah. I didn't tell her this, mind you, but she wasn't all that interested in me when i came over, since the tv was on. Ho-hum. Well, i wasn't available Friday night anyway, but i was gonna get out of it by being with Miranda, and mum needs me around the house (i'm normally too tired from work to help out). Still, i was really looking forward to seeing her for a full two days, which is impossible normally 'cause i'm always working. I have vented. It's not too bad now, but i still need to tell her this. I know what i need to say though. And i've been quitting smoking, which isn't too problematic so far, since i've only been doing it for 2 days. No ciggeretees yesterday, one experimental one on my break today which i threw away, and one again on a work break with the demi-supervisor dude (social smoking, hmm). So that's 2 today! Yay! I'm proper tired now.

Researching ADD: Quote from a patient with ADD: "...It's like being super-charged all the time. You get one idea and you have to act on it, and then, what do you know, but you've got another idea before you've finished up with the first one, and so you go for that one, but of course a third idea intercepts the second, and you just have to follow that one, and pretty soon people are calling you disorganized and impulsive and all sorts of impolite words that miss the point completely. Because you're trying really hard. It's just that you have all these invisible vectors pulling you this way and that, which makes it really hard to stay on task." Symptoms: The Hallowell Center identifies the following indicators to consider when ADHD is suspected and recommends that individuals with at least twelve of the following behaviors since childhood�provided these symptoms are not associated with any other medical or psychiatric conditions�consider professional diagnosis: A sense of underachievement, of not meeting one's goals (regardless of how much one has actually accomplished). Difficulty getting organized. Chronic procrastination or trouble getting started. Many projects going simultaneously; trouble with follow through. A tendency to say what comes to mind without necessarily considering the timing or appropriateness of the remark. A frequent search for high stimulation. An intolerance of boredom. Easy distractibility; trouble focusing attention, tendency to tune out or drift away in the middle of a page or conversation, often coupled with an inability to focus at times. Often creative, intuitive, highly intelligent. Trouble in going through established channels and following "proper" procedure. Impatient; low tolerance of frustration. Impulsive, either verbally or in action, as an impulsive spending of money. Changing plans, enacting new schemes or career plans and the like; hot-tempered. A tendency to worry needlessly, endlessly; a tendency to scan the horizon looking for something to worry about, alternating with inattention to or disregard for actual dangers. A sense of insecurity. Mood swings, mood instability, especially when disengaged from a person or a project. Physical or cognitive restlessness. A tendency toward addictive behavior. Chronic problems with self-esteem. Inaccurate self-observation. Family history of AD/HD or manic depressive illness or depression or substance abuse or other disorders of impulse control or mood. Output on these: 1) Number 1, the sense of underachievement, is hard to get past, but i'll seek encouragement from others to reassure myself that i've done well. I seem to try to get an awful lot done to feel that sense of accomplishment, but i often get so bustled up in the midst of doing a kajillion things at once that none of them ever really get finished. Which is a pain. 2) Organisation has always been a problem. I don't have a coping strategy for this, but i'm gonna buy a wall planner for long-term organisation. It makes me late a lot, and despite working at WHSMiths for 2 years now and going to work at least every Sunday , i still don't what time the bus comes in the morning. I'll only remember to check it when i'm going off for work, but i'll always forget by the time i get home, or loose the piece of paper i've written the time down on. 3) Procrastination is a horrible thing, so i'll set myself dates i have to stick to, with rewards for completing the taks when it was set to be done. I'm currently doing really well on this actually 4) Many projects going at one time: This is one i have a gret deal of trouble with still, as mentione din (1). At work, it manifests itself as me getting distracted by many customers at one time. Bah. Sometimes, they all follow me in a big queue, ala the classic game 'Centipede' (or 'Snake' on mobile phones). I'm reading 5 or 6 books at the moment. 5) This one, impulsiveness, i think i've done really well on too. When talking, i try to speak as though my words were being written, considering the way they will sound together, how to time sentances and phrases to make them sound poetic to listen to. However, as briefly touched on in the above comment, i will be distracted a lot, impulsively following the train of thought that appears in my head when something new to do occurs to me. 6) Frequent search for high(er) stimulation. This is frustrating, but i try to find great enjoyment in whatever i'm doing at one moment in time. This makes me more enthusiastic at things than is normal, but i get 'em done, and i put a lot of effort into the things i do because of this. 7) Heh, yeah, i hate being bored, but i'm working on it. Again, i use the same coping stragety as in number 6, above. I'm kinda bored of this already, but i'm determined to keep going, because i know i'll be satisfied when i've completed it. This 8) Distractable: In conversation, i try to consider how impolite it is of me to be so distracted. This helps me. In work, i'll go for a walk or do something which i enjoy but doesn't drain me a lot. This normally makes me more able to settle down and be less distractable. I'll also eliminate most distractions and set my background up so that it's easy-going and stimulating while not being throughly distacting. Dance music (ie, drum 'n' bass, or 'DNB') helps a lot, since it's very constant, helping me to keep a constant pace at whatever i'm doing. I'm listenign to DnB right now, and i'm feeling the flowing energy in the music and converting it to a flowing type spawn! I just noticed that i haven't completed (7) because i was distracted by (8)! 9) (Often creative, intuitive, highly intelligent:) This is a good thing, yay! It helps me write, and makes for interesting conversations with me. I dislike it when people try to replicate this, since i feel it degrades my ability, which is something i cherish, since it's one of the only really positive things about ADD. 10) Procedure: scrupulous attention to detail helps me here. Making people aware that i have difficulty doing some things unless they're broken into smaller stages means that i don't have too many problems here. 11) Aah! This drives me crazy, but i've gradually taught myself to adopt a laid-back, easy-going approach to life which really helps me here. 12) The money thing's difficult, so i try to have someone reliable with me when i go shopping. I think a great deal more than i ever used to too, so i can consider things more carefully. Still, though, it's hard not to act on impulse sometimes, but i make company with rational people, or ttry not to perform unrequired actions, instead sticking firmly to routine. This 'routine' thing is an enemy of ADD, but also it's greatest friend. Although i find it hard to learn routine, having a set way of doing things, if it's written out or reminded to me, really helps me prevent impulsiveness. Also, in almost everything i do, i try to consider the repercutions of my actions, which is a great fallback if i've forgotten my routines, since my mind is normally in gear to question all of my actions and consider them carefully. 13) Again, sticking to what i know helps here. Unfortunately, i don't know all that there is to know, which is where an inquenchable thirst for discovery plays a helpful part. But, yeah, i try to stick by the rules i've learnt to work. 14) Obsessive worrying? Check. But i have a sense of humour to it, like with all the other stuff. I never developed a coping stragety for this, and it still bothers me a little, but i try to pile on and ignore negative thoughts, or consider the actual plausability of them. Plus, my little pills have helped immeasurably. 15) Insecurity: This is where the need for a lot of reassurance comes from. However, most people are insecure. A person who's not is probably lying. Nobody's perfect, and i'm a very insecure person, but other personality traits i've developed mask this or turn my insecurities into something different. Hard to explain right now. A positive outlook is essentially what guides me out of negative ruts. I try to keep optimistic, and so hate pessamistic people. They bug the shit out of me, and pull me down, since i'm forced to consider that either: They're stoopid, or if not, then their perspective is just. So, i figure needlessly, insistantly pessamistic people are all fools. Ha! Bsides, why would anyone want to associate with anyone who's constantly negative anyway? 16) I've got a lot more stable, but yeah, i get more unstable when i'm not working on something and have too much time to think. So i keep the people i need close to me, and have regular dates for, for sinance, seeing Miranda. This structure kinda keeps me sane somehow. 17) Not too bad on the restlesness, although i used to be. If it gets to be too much of a problem, i'll focus my mind on something specific. Ie; in bed, if i'm not really "into it" and am feeling overly restless, i'll set my mind to one thing: closeness, horniness, sleepiness, etc. It's very hard to break out of these mind sets, and i'd prefer an alternative coping strategy. 18) Yeah, and what? I'm off drugs now, and im staying off. But i've always been hooked on something, wether it drink, drugs, self-hamr, hate, love, sex, work... Uh, i dunno what to do with this one. Meh, it's not problematic right now, so i'm not currently bothered by it. 19) Yeah. I tried really hard to think of what i do to combat the insecutiry (15), but it didn't make a lot of sense, and i think i bulshitted. It's horrid feeling this way, but again, i try to adopt a happy demeanor. It generally works well. 20) I think i'm pretty ok when it comes to considering myself, but others seem to disagree. I encourgae them to communicate with me more, but sometimes they refuse, which makes it incredibly hard to improve. 21) Yeah, me mam and granny are on happy pills. Mum's got a few problems of her own. But, it's kinda comforting to nkow that i'm not the way i am because i fucked up somewhere in my life. Funny example of life for an ADD-er: Frequent and frustrating memory lapses punctuate every day in the life of the person with ADD. Brian has attention deficit disorder. He also has a dog. They take each other for walks every day. As Brian puts on his coat, hat, and boots the dog lies under the kitchen table, waiting. Brian leaves the house, the dog doesn�t move. The dog will not move until Brian has come back into the house for the third time for key, wallet, or whatever other items he has forgotten to take the first two times. "My master may take some perverse pleasure in this bizarre in-and-out-and-in ritual," the hound probably says to himself, "but call me a bird dog if I�ll follow his example." The dog has learned from experience, which is more than can be said for his owner. Links: LOTS OF READING (WORTH IT!): Fabulous chapter excerpt with patients' input ('Brian & his dog' taken from this) 2 INTERACTIVE ACTIVITIES: Try the 'Experience firsthand' activities. HUNTERS, EXPLORERS & DREAMERS: Alternative ways of looking at the "disorder BASIC: Simple outline to ADD

I had a day off work today! I was gonna go and see Miranda, suprpise her by showing up when she thought i was at work, but BJ wanted to go into town, so i took her in. I'm doing well, i think. I'm happy. I'm really, really happy. =)

It seems to be getting harder and harder. Work was fine. Family's fine. Friends... i guess, are fine. I can't reach out right now, and nobody's contacting me. I can't say i don't feel utterly rejected, but it's not like i have a lot of friends. Jeez, do i even have any?? I'm angry too. I'm angry because everybody seems to constantly fuck things up for themselves, and then whine and gripe and complain. I'm trying to sort myself out, to un-fuck things, i'm not complaining, and i have to put up with all this horrible noise coming from the mouths of people who aren't worth listening to... And i just don't know what to do with myself. My rehab counsellor and i also talked about me not sleeping: i'm having a lot of difficulties with that, even after hours of exhausting work. Can't sleep, not like i need to. So, i'm constantly run-down. Additionally, we talked about emotional energy, and how i'm using so much of it up on trying to keep my head above the water, that i don't have any left for the things i really need to do. This makes me even more lethargic. I don't know where i'm heading, but it's not pleasant. Who knows though, maybe i'll swing out of this? Fuck you for reading this. If you talked to me, i would tell you what's going on. And then i wouldn't have to write this; wouldn't have to feel this. I don't mean that. I mean to ask for help. I'm hurting, and i need a hand to hold. God, i'm so drained. A good night's sleep, just one. I don't remember the last time i got one of those.

There's nothing... but i'll try. To download from megaupload, enter the 3-letter code in the top-left corner of the screen. Close the pop-up if it appears by clicking on the orange 'X' in the ad box. I took Bryony shopping today! Bought Miranda, Bob, BJ and Ellie some pressies, and we got back just in time for dinner. It was great spending some time with my little sister. Next month, i'm gonna have a lot mroe dough, so i'll have to take her shopping again. I woke up this morning, after some pretty wierd dreams -- one involving Bob (Denise) as a mutant thing (although, despite everyone else's reaction, i still thought she was great), another involving a shop i went into to check out some pre-owned games; after going through a small door at the back, i found myself in a massive warehouse-shop. At the back of this shop, it opened out to another world. This new world was, essentially, the same as ours, just darker, more confusing; the way the town streets of Reading would look to someone who's never lived in England. Days ago, i dreamt that i was going to Asda with Miranda. I remember a dingy, and the layout was similar to Toys-R-Us. She was told to leave, and i stuck by her, arguiing her defense. I left with her, since there was no point staying; i was shopping -with- Miranda. My drug counseller said -- or, discovered, as i said -- at my latest drug rehab, that i'm having an incredibly hard time coping without all the pretty drugs. I told him, i knew how easy it would be to take away all the thoughts, and that i don't feel anyone really can relate. Nobody knows what's happening inside my head, it's true. I'm always thinking about it, about drugs, about being fucked up, tripping out, going away, it's horrible. He recomended talking about it, so this is me talking. I'm struggling. It's not easy. I thought it would be, but it's just not. And i'm so fucking sad..! i don't know why, because my medication should be helping me, right? But i'm still... I don't know why i don't like to talk about it. I don't wanna admit it, i guess. If you really wanna know how i'm feeling, look up the lyrics to Massive Attack's "Live With Me" (hear a rock cover [here], see the video [here]). But, please, don't judge me. I'm trying, ok? I'm really, really trying. Anyway, on Friday night i went to the TUC with Bob and Twig! It was great fun, and i got on particularly well with James, Bob's fella. Unfortunately, though, Twig got overly drunk, fell out with Bob, so Bob got pissed off too. I went home, recognising that i was pushing my limits (yay me! i've never done that before!!), but not before i'd bit into a heart and got my face covered in blood offered to the audience by some goth metal band, who i gloriously moshed to with Murphy. He'd apologised to me earlier, and i tried to explain to him he didn't need to apologise for a thing, and that he jsut got caught up in something awful, but he still said he was sorry. Bless him, he's a nice guy, and a damn fine headbanger! But now my neck is killing me. Oh, and i puked snakeite, which i forgot i did until i noticed the red splats on my trainers while waiting for a bus into town with Bryony. Also, danced with Twig and with James, drunk a fair amount and treated myself to a gorgeous chiecken burger and chips ('cause they always taste best when you're intoxicated), and got hiccups halfway through walking home (which took about 45 minutes, and i still wasn't sober by the time i got home at 1am). I learned that drinking with friends is great, but just because you're learning your limits and paying attention to your behaviour, that doesn't mean everyone else is, and said friends are liable to go a little over the edge. I also remembered how expensive it is to drink, especially when your buying for others. I do regret not buying Murphy a drink, so i'll have to party with him next month. Oh, and Boo asked my why his girlfriend told him he was King of the Fraggles (grr!). Download: Queen Adreena - Pretty Like Drugs (mp3) Download: Queen Adreena - Pretty Like Drugs (video) Download: Queen Adreena - Sleeping Pill (mp3) Click [here] for Queen Adreena lyrics.

I am so sick and tired of hearing "what i am" from my mum. Years ago, she would insistantly question every thing i did, to the point where to answer her i'd have to analyse every little word i said, and every little action i made. It turned me into a self-enveloped fool, focusing on my self so much that i couldn't see past me. She compares me to my brother, even worse, to her. The problem was, Vicky flirts with me. He boyrfrieend hates this. I don't want Vicky. However, on Saturday as i've mentioned, Miranda made me feel like shit (a matter now resolved; i'm writing about it as a reference, not a dig). When i saw Vicky on Sunday, she made me feel wanted. The reason i will leave Miranda if such an instance as that which occured happens again is because i can't handle feeling so rejected by someone i love and care about. When it happened, i needed someone to do what Vicky did, which was make me feel like a person again -- listen to me, talk to me, share with me, accept me, all the things i hoped i'd get from Miranda on Saturday but didn't -- but i also needed to feel sexy and beautiful, the other way Miranda makes me feel: when she looks at me with her eyes that whisper seductive songs; when she kisses me with her lips that say, "come inside, i am yours, and i will hold you forever"; when she touches me with beautiful, soft hands, just the way i like to be touched. I needed to feel special, and i felt that she no longer wanted to be with me, no longer wanted to make me feel like that, and no longer needed me to be there for her either. This is why it upset me so much. And this is why i needed reinforcement that i was worth all these things she would do for me. I couldn't understand why she would look at me the way she did unless she didn't want me anymore, which would mean that everything i thought i knew about the way she felt about me was never true. To feel the way Miranda made me feel again, i went to Vicky. Although nothing happened, i admitted to my mum that something could have. Nobody could eve make me feel the way she does, though. Ever. Nobody ever has. For a moment, when she pushed me away, i was completely lost. I do not understand what the hell was going on. I can't apologise for the way i felt, because i know why i felt that way; i can't regret this rebound behaviour. At the time, i thought she didn't want me, and never really did. But i do not feel that way to Vicky. I never felt that way to Vicky, i just needed something that i felt had been taken away from me given back. Anyway, that's the background. I was talking about the recent arguement with my mum. She said she couldn't understand how i could want Vicky, then not. I explained the rebound thing in brief, and she said, "but when Alan and i split, it took me over a year to get over him...". Yeah, great, except that that isn't in anyway relevant to me. At all. This is what bugs me. I snapped at her, frustrated by her comparisons of me to others, and she folded, telling me there was no point talking to me because i only ever hear what i wanna hear. This is not true. I used to believe her when she would say things like this, now i don't listen to her when she puts me down. The other day, she told me how she can't understand any fulfillment i could find in what she described as "meaningless sex", since she has to love someone to sleep with them. She is this way for a number of reasons, but these reasons do not exist for me, because i. Am. Not. Her. I do not have the same beliefs that she has, i have not lived her life, and i don't feel the same way about sex that she does, and for that, she thinks i am wrong. She doesn't understand how i can have my "meaningless sex". This frustrates me even more because i DO understand why she feels that way, and i understand how she can't understand my rebound behaviour, yet SHe can't understand any of my behhaviour. If she does, she wouldn't tell me i'm wrong in the way i feel. I would like to be closer to my mother, but she pushes me away every time she tells me i'm not good enough. Eventualyl, i'm gonna shut her out completely. It's terrible, but it's the only way i can protect myself. It's also bewildering, because sometimes, such as the day before i gave up drugs, she can be cool, rational and considerate of the way my mind operates. She can seem to understand me. But then, it's like she feels i'm insulting her beliefs, and she has to defend them. And telling me i'm wrong is not gonna help me, and it's not gonna help Vicky. So, next time, i'm not gonna bother asking for her help, in case one of her beliefs gets in the way. I love her, and i value what she believes in, but i don't feel the same way. I tried to explain something similar to a jesusfreak harrassing me in the street today while i was waiting for my bus. I told him i wasn't interested; that i had my own beliefs, and he stood there and argued what he thought was right. I don't care what he thinks about life, God, or cheese on bloody toast for that matter, because it's just not relevant to me. And it's not very nice to have some stranger stand there and insult what I MYSELF believe in. When he approached me, i told him, while i don't care what he believes, i'm not interested. Yet he wouldn't give up, that fucking annoying man who couldn't do what he was telling me i SHOULD do, which was, to consider the possibility that perhaps, he is not right. This doesn't relate to what i was writing about in the way i thought it would actually. But it's still to do with people not being able to accept someone else's school of thought. Additionally: About a week or two ago, my mother said something to me and i defended myself, feeling attacked. We argued. Later, i came back and apologised, saying that when she says things the way she said them, i feel attacked. I tried to share with her how i felt and why i felt that way. And she defended herself, saying she felt attacked. This really pissed me off. She was doing exactly what i'd done earlier, and she didn't even realise it, DESPITE the fact that i'd just pointed out the same behvaiour in me. I don't normally criticise my mum. Normally, i sing her praises. But sometimes, she really pisses me off. Out of about 400 journal posts, maybe 10 are dedicated to her. The other 390 aren't. Still, i feel that i could never show her what i've written here because she'll take it too to heart and feel "attacked". It's just a shame i can't talk to my mum.

I said to Vicky that i wouldn't sleep when i got home. I didn't lie; it's now 10 to 1 in the morning. I have work tomorrow, but i'm looking forward to it. Today was good (by today, i mean Sunday, yesterday). There was a new chick. I get told off for saying "chick" instead of "girl" or "lady" at work. Bah. Pink Floyd: There's a silence surrounding me I can't seem to think straight I'll sit in the corner And no one can bother me I think I should speak now I can't seem to speak now My words won't come out right I feel like I'm drowning I'm feeling weak now But I can't show my weakness I sometimes wonder Where do we go from here? 'Keep Talking', from my favroutite Floyd album, 'The Division Bell'. Saturday night ended with me collapsing upstairs sometime after 3am, after supervising and entertaining Bryony and her friends. I'm pretty shattered, but it doesnt take a lot of energy to think enough to write. Miranda phoned today. She apologised for hurting me earlier, said she was feeling bad. I forgave her, and made her promise to talk to me next time. Doesn't explain her behaviour at all. She said, she woke up on Sunday and found i wasn't there, and missed me. Hmm. If this happens again, i will leave her. I have not forgiven Lloyd for acting out against whoever he feels like, expecting them to come back afterwards, and while i have forgiven here this time, there's no reason why i should forgive her a second time. Hurt me once, shame on you; hurt me twice, shame on me. My mother interupted me during the phone conversation. She said Miranda had called earlier, and that she was damn lucky Kyle asnwered instead of her. She is never gonna forgive Miranda, because she saw the look on my face, she saw how much i was hurt when i came back home, she saw the total rejection i felt, and she knows that Miranda caused it. She can't understand why i've forgiven her. I did enjoy talking to her on the phone. I missed her. The her that doesn't hurt me. It's just a shame there's another her too. We will see. I also loved talking with Vicky today. I've missed her, as a friend i can share with. We have a lot in common it seems, and we get on well. We've even got the same hair colour (auburn, damnit). I don't have much else to say. Although, i did find this in 'boy': December 15, 2005 [Private Entry] -------------------------------------- "i have an idea. an open relationship." "i wish i knew what you were thinking". romantic. always melts me.

It seems that i'm a very self-absorbed person. I've found an article called "How to tell if you're self-absorbed". Perhaps the fact that i'm answering this here means that i am, indeed, self absorbed. However, seeing the world. Perhaps i am not. Maybe it's just a little. In any case, i'm seeing relationships as a two-way street, whereas i used to give and give and feel resentful when i got nothing back. Now, i expect to be given things back, otherwise i will give less. If i get nothing, or just a little, that is what i will give in return. My old self would try and work out just what it was that i was doing wrong when someone wasn't putting as much into me as i was them. My new self can't be fucked with this kind of excessive giving. While i will, still, give a lot in the beginning of anything, if it's not returned, then i will give less and less, until what i'm giving matches how much the person i'm responding to is giving. This seems to be how most other people work. I still don't fully understand people. But seeing myself more in this world, instead of others so much, i can understand a substantial amount more. It's quite sickening, how much pain and misery people cause to themselves. Anyway, self-absorbed questionarre thingy: 1. You try to win over everybody else around you by setting unrealistic goals. If you engross yourself around the clock in goals impossible to achieve, then you can be considered self-absorbed. Uhm, no. Not any more. 2. Think you are "too good" for the friends and loved ones who have done nothing sinful but be caring to you? Again, no. I'm starting to wonder if the feelings i thought people feel for me are really what i think they are; i'm seeing more than i've ever seen. This is not a bad thing, and i've talked it over with my my mum, the one person who knows me best (in all the ways she can, obviously). 3. Believe that you are so appealing, you can cheat on your partner and be with as many dates as possible. No. This trait was lost a long time ago. 4. Think your problems and needs are the only things that matter. Not at all. Not in the slightest. Before, though, i think this was true. I realised other people had "problems and needs", but i was too busy worrying about my own to be concerned with them. 5. Buy too many expensive things for yourself, branded things that you want but do not exactly need. No. I enjoy shopping, but i'll never buy anything that serves no good purpose, such as something that simlpy makes me look betetr than everyone else. 6. Set "standards" for who should be allowed to talk to you. True to an extent. I don't like talking to certain people, and i don't like them talking to me, but i DO work in a shop. Outside of work, i would talk to pretty much anybody, but it's easier to tell, after talking to a wide variety of people, who's really worth listening to, and who's boring, selfish, or has nothing to offer. Tips for the self-absorbed + Seek help, be more open - Yes, i need to work on this. Otherwise i'm gonna think myself to death. My thoughts aren't stopping; they'd normally clog up, but they're just not. It's very, very strange. + Remember this quote, "Perfection spells paralysis" - Yeah, okay. + Do not be afraid to cry - I am not afraid to cry. I've always known that anyone who scoffs at a person crying has insecurities of their own that they've been unable to get past. + If you are self-absorbed as a result of others bullying you in the past, do not trash-talk innocent people who care about you. - I do nothing like this. People who do sicken me. + When you save your energy only for yourself, and do not care for others.. You will have a boring life - Perhaps, but perhaps the fact that i finally am using my energy for myself, instead of always for others, is a good thing? + Talk to someone you trust - It's hard to find someone i trust at the moment. I don't know what i want. ~~~ Continuing on; no, i don't know what i want. Being "normal" has just complicated things and made everything a lot blurrier. Hell, i don't know who i am right now. I DO know i'm different. But who have i become? It scares me to see myself as i am now. It's unfamiliar. However! I can see the drive for success and achievement in me. On a slightly unrelated note, i WILL NOT be dragged down by those who believe money means success. Happiness means success, and money doesn't equal happiness. Fulfillment, for me, equals happiness. Who am i? ~~~~~ More 'research': "Self absorbed: does things primarily for the benefit of themself, puts their feelings first, can't do anything when they don't feel good, swayed by their emotions, more concerned with themself than others, prefers personal glory over team victories, pleasure seeker, uses their looks to get what they want, gets angry when they don't get what they want, dramatizes their suffering, wealth seeking, superficial, manipulative, narcissistic" No, this does not sound like me. This sounds like Ellie. And that's not me being cruel, at all. ~~~~~ Ignorance is bliss, but knowledge is power.

More transcriptions. Twenety-past-midnight, listening to Switchblade Symphony. The following is all from letters written the night before the last. Last night, instead of writing at 2am i was walking to-and-from Woodley and Whitley, to see Ellie, Matt and Les. Took a 45-min break on my journey home to read Haunted, a book of short stories from the author of Fight Club, Chuck Palahniuk. On with the text. Miranda's Biology Lesson. She taught me how my muscles worked, how i moved. And there was no relentless questioning required. In fact, i was relentlessly questioning, come to think about it, but she knew she was teaching me, so had every bit of patience needed to answer with understandable clarity. She was also interested in what she was saying. Conclusion: People don't know what my motives are when i question. They don't realise i'm just trying to educate myself, and find me, at times, arguementative. Perhaps, if i ask them to "teach me"? Make them aware that i -want- to learn, but need more information to understand? Shopping on Saturday. Went out protected. Huge baggy dark jumper, usual black jeans, hugging black t-shirt underneath. Dark shades with no sunlight, looked like a hermit. Didn't need it all in the end, and stripped to the t-shirt in the street, removed the glasses. Shopping's very therapuetic for me, and the abundance of people in a normal state put me back in touch with rationality, bringing me out of my slumped mood. I'm very reflective. I don't like people with negative traits. Selfish, lying, stupid people bounce off of me and affect me in a way i'd rather not be affected. Interuptions. "Please try not to interupt me. I realise that you are simply trying to share with me & relate how you feel, but it makes me feel like you don't care about what i have to say, and so don't care about what i'm sharing and how i feel. In return for your efforts, i will try to notice your body language more, and invite you into my speech more. Please be ready to respond, else this may not be effecctive. I will try to be more aware of when you'd like to contribute to a rambling monologue of mine and/or feel as though i'm hogging the air during our time together. I will stop, or ask you what you think, because i value your thoughts and feelings." Masterbation. I encourage anyone and everyone to masterbate, and never to be ashamed of it. I don't get why people are. Parent's attitudes seem to be the only things that make a person ashamed of it, but, to be honest their attitudes are outdated and not completely in tune with modern beliefs. Studies show that masterbation helps you to learn how to come stronger, and have more control over yourself too, which is always a plus. Click for (male) or (female). Miranda. She has to much that needs healing; i've burdened her with myself and lost sight of my original intentions: to show her how amazing she is, to be the kind of person she needs to know she deserves, It is time for me to change again. It bothers me that i can't show her as much as i'd like as a friend; i look at Ellie sometimes and see so much that Matt could be doing for her, things i can't do as i stand to her now. However, if i can be everything Miranda needs in a friend, maybe i will help more than i realise? And does she only want a friend in me? What does she want from me? An old question that's never been answered fully. Having me: that's a lot to take on, but not believing she's strong enough to have me is going to sabotage any relationship, wether we're just friends, or something more. Well, anyway, time will tell, but i have a considerable amount of work ahead of me. I will enjoy all of it, and i hope she will too. Ellie. I've distanced myself from Ellie because i've been feeling shit. I need to tell her this. I also need to continue building my new life, to show her that a depressive OCD-suffering weed junkie still has the power to be just what they want to be. If i give up, i show her that her dreams too will die if she tries.

I'm reading up now on depression. The symptoms are horrifying. I recognise many of them in me, and i can't imagine how hard it must be for people to cope with me. I feel so thankful to my mother, for staying here, putting up with it. But it all goes away when i'm on my pills. I am normal again. The depression causes unwanted thoughts which i obsess over (see post below). The medication stops this altogether, and i can feel normal. Something upset me considerably recently. Miranda said something on the phone. I don't know if i heard her right. It sounded as though she was attacking me for taking pills. I can't describe how sick this made me feel. I don't enjoy taking meds. I don't want to be on medication. It isn't fun for me. It makes me feel useless, out of control, as though i'm not good enough to handle life on my own. The decision to go onto meds was one of the biggest steps i'd ever had to take in my life. But i just couldn't go on living the way i was. Living like i am now; i've been back on the meds for 10 days now, so i'm kind of hovering along, struggling but coping, knowing that they'll kick in soon, and i'll stop crying for no reason, i'll stop thinking how much better off everyone would be if i wasn't around, i'll stop feeling hopeless, lost, stranded, guilty, ashamed and like a failure... and i'll know that some people will see me as weak and pathetic just because i'd rather not feel this way. Hearing that... It made me feel more worthless than anything anyone could say to me. I'm taking [this test], and it's brought me to tears. I deny a lot of it, for the sake of others. My score was 33. I took it again, when i was feeling calmer, and it was 31. Take the test to reveal what the scores mean. And to reveal just why i take my pills.