So yeah after years of saying I would I finally got inked. And I am so, so chuffed with it. I am already planning my next one!
In other news .......I really do not know what is going on with me.
My moods have been like riding a see-saw with a mind of its own. Or a roller-coaster that I don't remember queuing up to get on. I can't really remember when it started, perhaps about a month ago.
Until recently in my life I had never cried. If I did it was in private. From being tiny to a few years ago I had this inherent conviction that no matter what; I must not cry. No matter the pain; I must not cry. I remember the sensation of a throat on fire, your gut turning to a pit of writhing, knotting snakes as you bit back tears. And for what? To appear 'strong', to be beyond the imperfections and inconveniences of human nature. Tears were a watery weakness. Now it is all I do.
Well my last counsellor would be proud. In our final session he concluded 'We have covered a lot of ground, made a lot of progress....but I do wish you had cried'.
I can sense it coming. I'll be on my carefully rocking, calm nice see-saw like everyone else and then I feel the slight vibrations beneath me. I can feel the tension building up. Then as if caught in a storm it begins to rock. Within half an hour the slight, ominous rocking has escalated to a wild, violent swooping and crashing. My head becomes full of another voice. It tells me everything that is wrong. How big I am. What I am eating and how disgusting that is. More and more voices come in, screaming at me and filling my head so tightly I am sure it will split.
The other day I was in town when it happened and I had to leave every shop I went in because I felt the tears spurting up. I went into every set of toilets in the Westfield centre and let my tears go, each time hoping it would be the release and that all the poison would have been expelled. Not the case it appears. So I cam home and broke down on my mother.
That was just one instance- it happens all the time.
The thing is when I feel like this I do stupid things. If I was a cutter I would cut. I am not. But only recently have I had access to 'hard' medication. For instance my oh-so-wonderful gp prescribed me that nifedipine to try and help my circulation despite my already very low blood pressure.
When my head is full of nasty voices I get out my little orange pearls. In they go, one more, one more, one more...and wait. Swimming, watery brain inside a head like a cauliflower on a bendy straw. Feet that plod on a ground that feels like cotton wool. It is a distraction more than anything. I messed about with my sertraline too to achieve the same sort of things. Then the other day I unearthed some codeine. Added to my special zip away pocket of release.
Oh and I bought some scales. We're back to the every morning routine. Asking the scales as I would ask a crystal ball if I had one. How will I feel today? Why the FUCK do I do this to myself?