Thursday, 29 December 2016

At This Point I Should Write A Country And Western Song Titled "Waiting For The Meds To Kick In."

Hey I keep writing facebook status updates about where I'm at but for those of you who don't do facebook (good on you, by the way .. I call it "the necessary evil) then you don't read what I say there so here's my Facebook status update of this morning. But before I copy and paste it I need to tell you something:

This year I had to put a PayPal button on this site, whereupon I promised to write a memoir of sorts. I started, and it was going ok, and THANK YOU for paying my rent when I couldn't pay my rent. I'm not dissing anybody, but I couldn't pay my rent and was terrified. But then my PayPal account got subpoenaed to prove my "earnings" and I shat myself because the money was paying my rent so I took the PayPal button off, thanked as many people as I could via email addresses, and then unpublished all posts about my memoir of sorts because seriously. Then I started selling random shit around my house to pay my rent, then I depended on friends to help pay my rent, and I can't get a flatmate to help pay my rent because Rocco needs his own bedroom here to know that he has his own bedroom here. I thought about setting up an Air'BnB here but I can't because I'm renting and I'd get into trouble. It's terrifying not knowing how to pay your rent fyi but somehow I've managed to and things are looking up. So to all the people I promised the memoir of sorts to ... patience is a virtue and if I die with a half-written memoir inside me then somebody else would have to finish it and just make shit up but nobody can make the shit up because the shit is so outrageous and awful and funny and dark that you just can't make that shit up.

I've not written many entries here this year sometimes because I have nothing to say but mostly because I have everything to say and had to pull out, we've hit an artery. Fascinating to go back and read some of my old entries from years ago CLEARLY WRITTEN WHILE BEING INCREDIBLY MENTALLY UNWELL but not knowing it at the time. Frankly it was some of my best work. Also cringeworthy and embarrassing. To write here like I did before would be proof of .. craziness. And I'm so very tired of being the crazy one but I always have been, even while fully-functioning.

I have more readers here than ever before, I've never gone out of my way to attract readers, I've never asked to be internet-known, and I definitely have never blogged for comments. All I've done is cut pieces of my bloodied heart out and given them away freely. Doctors will tell you hearts don't grow back but they do. I've changed, I've evolved, gotten better, gotten worse, gotten worn down lied about rumours galore blah. To many people's surprise, I am still here on planet earth breathing oxygen so maybe don't kick a person when they're down because they might get back up again and make you feel - surprised? Bad? Scared?

I got my last post to publish here tomorrow, the last entry here for the year. Next week will be 2017. Rocco told me that humans won't exist for much longer "because of what we're doing to the planet." Rocco tells me a lot of things. Listen to kids, they're extraordinary. Told him the other day that I don't want him to grow up and please let me be in his life when he's a man. His reply: "I promise I won't grow up if you play a game of Cluedo with me right now."

Life is a game of Cluedo WHO IS RESPONSIBLE AND WHAT ARE THE RULES.

Here's what I wrote on facebook today. Maybe the most fucked among us are the most intelligent because a lot of the time we see how hard life and the world truly is? Maybe I'm wrong. There's no instagram filter for reality. But Rocco if you ever read this in the future - then humans still existed for a while, sweet guy! And I need to give you more hope for the future which I can do now because I have more hope for the future.

I just opened facebook to see who was dead today. This morning I literally leapt out of bed to take my meds. My brain tells me I'm a piece of shit constantly but these days I reprogram my synapses. Brains are apparently computers that need a constant cowboy reboot. An article this morning says: "Some of Carrie Fishers friends doubted she was ever truly clean and sober because she got doctors prescriptions to treat her bipolar disorder, depression and anxiety." OH REALLY TELL ME MORE ABOUT THINGS YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT. My brain health bonanzas have affected every single person in my life. Negatively. So here's my face right now waiting for the Lamotrigine to kick in but you can't see the demons because they hide and trick. Undiagnosed and unknown stuff led my brother to suicide but it was the stigma that pushed him over the edge. I call for the hashtag #breakingbadstigma .. if you're inclined, post a pic below of your face or big toe using this hashtag. Carrie Fisher has left very big shoes to fill. The last bastion of all the awareness about mental health and suicidality is the nitty gritty of the grit of saying how we feel. I feel shit and messed up and misunderstood but my mum gets it now, so does my uncle, my aunt, some cousins, my good friends. Mental bonanzas are not a moral failing - but piling shit upon those who deal with them daily? That's a moral failing.




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