Thursday 29 May 2014
This weekend is Supersonic
I really ought to be excited. I think I'm a bit anxious about spending two nights away from Kittencat. I really don't like being away from her for so long. When she was one, I went to End of the Road, and had the most miserable weekend I think it's possible to have in such a place. Since then I've never been away from her so long. She went away with Cattenberg and Cattenberg's mummy for an overnight earlier this year, and it was hugely weird to be so far away from her. I've been in a funk about this all week, and I can't seem to shake it. Hopefully it will disperse on the train down.
Sunday 18 May 2014
I feel I should clarify the last line in the last post
..."not everyone you spend time with is a friend. I have lots of acquaintances, few I value enough to call friends."
You know what I mean. You might label it differently, or site it within a different personal narrative, but for me there are two types of friend, "convenience friends" and those you're meant to know. The former are really friendly acquaintances, you are brought together by circumstance, you have stuff in common, you find them easy enough company, but your friendship is largely based around common ground, or regular interaction. With distance, or the removal of shared interest, you find you have nothing to talk about. You don't miss them if you don't see them, you aren't excited by the prospect of their company. The latter, people you're meant to know, are often a peculiar bunch. Disconcerting, they often come into your life at weird moments. You are often not introduced by mutual friends, rather you seek each other out because there is a draw to know each other. You want their company, you smile when you think of them. You may not speak for five years, yet your affection is not diminished, your bond unbroken. You may not seem to have anything in common, what you share is an outlook, a sense of humour, an indefinable something that transcends all that day to day shit that bonds you to your work colleagues. Compatibility is something people consider in their romantic relationships, but less so in their friends. But why spend so much time with people you merely tolerate in the absence of something better? I see my friends less often than I'd like. But each and everyone of them is freaking awesome, and considered as a friend because I actually like them, not because we know the same people or like the same things.
You know what I mean. You might label it differently, or site it within a different personal narrative, but for me there are two types of friend, "convenience friends" and those you're meant to know. The former are really friendly acquaintances, you are brought together by circumstance, you have stuff in common, you find them easy enough company, but your friendship is largely based around common ground, or regular interaction. With distance, or the removal of shared interest, you find you have nothing to talk about. You don't miss them if you don't see them, you aren't excited by the prospect of their company. The latter, people you're meant to know, are often a peculiar bunch. Disconcerting, they often come into your life at weird moments. You are often not introduced by mutual friends, rather you seek each other out because there is a draw to know each other. You want their company, you smile when you think of them. You may not speak for five years, yet your affection is not diminished, your bond unbroken. You may not seem to have anything in common, what you share is an outlook, a sense of humour, an indefinable something that transcends all that day to day shit that bonds you to your work colleagues. Compatibility is something people consider in their romantic relationships, but less so in their friends. But why spend so much time with people you merely tolerate in the absence of something better? I see my friends less often than I'd like. But each and everyone of them is freaking awesome, and considered as a friend because I actually like them, not because we know the same people or like the same things.
Saturday 17 May 2014
My last exam is on Monday
After that I don't have any lectures for a few weeks, so I'm allocating this time to SORTING MY LIFE OUT. Not quite as juvenile or vague as that though, I have a plan. First off is fixing my environment, this was due to be done last summer, but timings lagged, and by the time Cattenberg was moved out, the summer was gone. There is no blame in this statement, just recognition that life oft gets in the way of good intentions. We've been in a permanent state of half arsed this year, swinging from the good end of half arsed to the borderline crack den (sans crack), so I want to get it done. Next is to speed along the fixing of me. I've been a bit lax with my implementation of the protocols needed to fix myself, some are in place, but there are a few things I need to sort out more quickly. I also need to write up all the things I've been doing so far on t'other blog. In conjunction to that, I need to focus a bit more energy into the next stage of fixing my mum. It's a slow process, but I'm going to bloody well mend her. Because a girl has to have a hobby. Some people fix cars, I'm going to fix my mum. Related to this is the next one, to get cracking on the garden. Over the next few years Kittencat and I will be setting up a fairly comprehensive veg growing set up in our garden, but this year is all about ground work. Making raised beds, digging, clearing, delays until I can afford relevant materials, and so on. Who knows, in a couple of years we may actually get that chicken coop I keep waffling on about.
Finally, I'm going to assess some of my commitments and relationships on a cost-benefit basis. I need to start volunteering next year, and I am going to have considerable demands on my time course-wise with regard to placements, so I need to look at what I spend my time on, and who I spend my time with**. This sounds cold, but there are people I'd like to see more than I do, things I'd like to do and it's sensible from time to time to make sure you aren't prioritising the wrong activities, the wrong people. Kind of a life audit. Do I walk away from experiences feeling entirely positive about them. Do I look forward to time with people, or is there an element of the Doyouthinkhesaurus or, worse, the PleasefuckoffI'mtoosobertodealwithhowboredyoumakeme-Rex in such meetings. Do I get the impression that my company/contribution isn't all that important. Am I that interested in what I'm doing, or do I feel obliged; if so, is there someone else who could do it who would like to do it more, or would find it less inconvenient to do so. Ultimately, I need to assess what I bring to things, and people, and what people and things bring to me. If the good outweighs any negatives, if the negatives outweigh the good. I might keep all of it, I might cut some stuff out. But I need to ensure that my life is full of the right things.
This last one is probably a bit too big to be completed in two weeks. It can be tempting to hold onto roles and relationships based on the notion that people validate themselves in terms of their relationships and roles, yet these are the things that suck you under. Cattenberg recently told me that I am a "selfless person"; while he meant it in the sense that I offer my time/help freely to people when they need help, it got me thinking about the term selfless and what it means. While in a moment, selfless means to think only of others, across a lifetime what do you really bring to others if you are devoid of self? A selfless mother is not a strong role model, though a dedicated, loving one is. A selfless person maybe truly valuable; the value they place in others will make them achieve truly great things. But if a person does not value themselves, they are of less worth to others. When you think about it, are you most happy in the company of someone who wants to make you happy, or someone who is happy? A better way might be to look at it terms of selves generally. People are interesting, there's no denying that. And some more interesting than others. But people who are only interested in others can only offer other people a reflection of themselves. For those only interested in themselves, a selfless type might be a suitable companion. But the world is more interesting, more exciting with the spread of ideas, with conversations and challenges; if one is only focused on the needs of others, chances are you'll become a bit of a bore.
**My friends are not in line to receive notice. But not everyone you spend time with is a friend. I have lots of acquaintances, few I value enough to call friends.
Finally, I'm going to assess some of my commitments and relationships on a cost-benefit basis. I need to start volunteering next year, and I am going to have considerable demands on my time course-wise with regard to placements, so I need to look at what I spend my time on, and who I spend my time with**. This sounds cold, but there are people I'd like to see more than I do, things I'd like to do and it's sensible from time to time to make sure you aren't prioritising the wrong activities, the wrong people. Kind of a life audit. Do I walk away from experiences feeling entirely positive about them. Do I look forward to time with people, or is there an element of the Doyouthinkhesaurus or, worse, the PleasefuckoffI'mtoosobertodealwithhowboredyoumakeme-Rex in such meetings. Do I get the impression that my company/contribution isn't all that important. Am I that interested in what I'm doing, or do I feel obliged; if so, is there someone else who could do it who would like to do it more, or would find it less inconvenient to do so. Ultimately, I need to assess what I bring to things, and people, and what people and things bring to me. If the good outweighs any negatives, if the negatives outweigh the good. I might keep all of it, I might cut some stuff out. But I need to ensure that my life is full of the right things.
This last one is probably a bit too big to be completed in two weeks. It can be tempting to hold onto roles and relationships based on the notion that people validate themselves in terms of their relationships and roles, yet these are the things that suck you under. Cattenberg recently told me that I am a "selfless person"; while he meant it in the sense that I offer my time/help freely to people when they need help, it got me thinking about the term selfless and what it means. While in a moment, selfless means to think only of others, across a lifetime what do you really bring to others if you are devoid of self? A selfless mother is not a strong role model, though a dedicated, loving one is. A selfless person maybe truly valuable; the value they place in others will make them achieve truly great things. But if a person does not value themselves, they are of less worth to others. When you think about it, are you most happy in the company of someone who wants to make you happy, or someone who is happy? A better way might be to look at it terms of selves generally. People are interesting, there's no denying that. And some more interesting than others. But people who are only interested in others can only offer other people a reflection of themselves. For those only interested in themselves, a selfless type might be a suitable companion. But the world is more interesting, more exciting with the spread of ideas, with conversations and challenges; if one is only focused on the needs of others, chances are you'll become a bit of a bore.
**My friends are not in line to receive notice. But not everyone you spend time with is a friend. I have lots of acquaintances, few I value enough to call friends.
Thursday 15 May 2014
I've got a sore throat
and I'm tired. I feel a bit on the wrong side of shit, quite honestly, but I'm not unaware that this used to be my version of healthy.
I'm not spilling the thoughts in my head tonight dear diary, mostly because I've already offloaded onto Cattenberg. Cattenberg is a good person to offload to, because he tells me if I'm insane, of right to be concerned or confused about things, or if I'm just plain mental. Today Cattenberg says that, for once, I'm not mental.
Hope the kid sleeps tonight, I'm freaking knackered.
I'm not spilling the thoughts in my head tonight dear diary, mostly because I've already offloaded onto Cattenberg. Cattenberg is a good person to offload to, because he tells me if I'm insane, of right to be concerned or confused about things, or if I'm just plain mental. Today Cattenberg says that, for once, I'm not mental.
Hope the kid sleeps tonight, I'm freaking knackered.
Wednesday 14 May 2014
Tuesday 13 May 2014
I'm a bit stressy at the moment
And consequently my mind is wandering, as it does. You'll no doubt have noticed it wandering less, my ramblings here less often reflect a quietening of my mind. Life is good right now. I'm learning the mechanics of physiology, the chemistry that causes anxiety to become unruly, for inattentivity to become deficit, for a preoccupation to become all consuming. And as I learn these things, I'm applying these things. And my mind is peaceful. I am not consumed by my passions, nor my anxiety. I no longer predominantly exist at the extremes of emotion, but spend most of my time in the middle. The place where you can reach the highs and the lows, but they do not drown you.
But my wandering mind wanders tonight. I wander to those I've loved, and to those I have not, those who have loved me, and those who have not. I recall physical moments where intimacy, and insurmountable gulfs, become more evident. I remember how the slightest touch can make you feel more joy than you thought possible. I remember the unrest, the conflict of sensing a change, feeling a removal of emotion denied by reassuring words. I remember how words say so little, and how the sting of unwanted touch says so much, whichever side it's on.
I remember all of this, and I remember how much less stressful my quiet existence is, than the one I inhabited before. The washing up was done marginally more frequently, but I can't say it could ever have been worth the discord in the house, the mutual flinch when one accidentally touched the other. I'm tired, and my revision is going extremely badly. But I can manage this.
But my wandering mind wanders tonight. I wander to those I've loved, and to those I have not, those who have loved me, and those who have not. I recall physical moments where intimacy, and insurmountable gulfs, become more evident. I remember how the slightest touch can make you feel more joy than you thought possible. I remember the unrest, the conflict of sensing a change, feeling a removal of emotion denied by reassuring words. I remember how words say so little, and how the sting of unwanted touch says so much, whichever side it's on.
I remember all of this, and I remember how much less stressful my quiet existence is, than the one I inhabited before. The washing up was done marginally more frequently, but I can't say it could ever have been worth the discord in the house, the mutual flinch when one accidentally touched the other. I'm tired, and my revision is going extremely badly. But I can manage this.
Monday 12 May 2014
I'm actually crying
Fucksake. I'm actually crying, thinking about what my mum is putting up with right now. It sounds like an overreaction. It's not. Having done both, I can tell you that childbirth has got nothing on this.
My poor mum
I learnt today that a skin condition my mum has had for the last six years is actually something I had for three years in my early twenties. It is debilitating, and painful, and makes your life a living hell. I didn't realise it was the same thing because I'd only ever had it labelled "dermatitis" by the doctors. The doctors have told my mum it isn't something they can get rid off, and the only mainstream options they have is high dose steroid cream. To be used forever. Because that's safe. Yep. It is curable, I know this. I know this because in my ignorance of it's label, and therefore it's in-curability, I cured it. Trial, error, and three years of immense pain and skin that would break and bleed under the slightest provocation. Seriously, if it didn't like the program on the TV, I was in for A BAD TIME. But I cured it. So I know, that regardless of what any fucking doctor tells you, that it is treatable. It is curable. My mum has had to deal with this for six years. We need to fix this. We will fix this. Because it is not okay. Being that ill is not okay. I'm not any more, and I never will be again. And I'm going to fix my mum.
Sunday 11 May 2014
I am considering
Spending £100 on a blender. It's a very good blender, but still £100. And it can't cope with heat. My brother passed on some Compliment vouchers he got from work - big corporate do like non-taxable employee rewards, even for their contractors - so it would work out about £50. That's not bad... Now I just need to find where the hell I put the vouchers. Especially because they expire soon.
A shift in perspective perhaps
A shift in perspective perhaps from the norm. Louisa Alcott wrote "be worthy love, and love will come". Love will come. People live their lives under the assumption that this means romantic love, or even platonic love. But love externally sited. That if you live well, people will love you. To this mind, if you do not feel loved by others, you are obviously not trying hard enough, and that you just have to sacrifice a little more, give a little more of your soul in the quest of being considered worthy. Then love will come.
Only it won't. By permanently seeking the approval of others you are of ever decreasing worth to yourself. Maybe no one else will ever love you. Maybe no one else will ever value you. Maybe you will spend the rest of your life never connecting with anyone ever again. Think about that for a moment. Does it fill you with dread? Or are you calm to your core? I think once that would have scared the living bejesus out of me. Maybe. I'm surprisingly peaceful these days. I value the people around me immensely, but in many ways how they feel about me is less important than how I feel about them. The value I place on them is independent of the value they attribute to me, and doesn't need reciprocation. I do not value you in order that you validate me, I do not love you in order that you love me. My feelings are internal, my own. Be worthy love, and love will come. But it might surprise you when you realise it comes from within.
Only it won't. By permanently seeking the approval of others you are of ever decreasing worth to yourself. Maybe no one else will ever love you. Maybe no one else will ever value you. Maybe you will spend the rest of your life never connecting with anyone ever again. Think about that for a moment. Does it fill you with dread? Or are you calm to your core? I think once that would have scared the living bejesus out of me. Maybe. I'm surprisingly peaceful these days. I value the people around me immensely, but in many ways how they feel about me is less important than how I feel about them. The value I place on them is independent of the value they attribute to me, and doesn't need reciprocation. I do not value you in order that you validate me, I do not love you in order that you love me. My feelings are internal, my own. Be worthy love, and love will come. But it might surprise you when you realise it comes from within.
Saturday 10 May 2014
It's taking a while but it's going to be worth it
I'm learning a lot of stuff right now. It's a bit fascinating, though most people I know think I'm a little crazy. If anything, this is the first time for a few years that I haven't been a little bit crazy.
I have revision to do and exams to pass. See you on the flip side.
I have revision to do and exams to pass. See you on the flip side.
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