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| Not_A_Megalomaniac's Journal |
Back to Not_A_Megalomaniac's Journal
| 2006-09-11 04:21:16 |
Stream of Consciousness Vent... PsychoBabble, if you will. |
 Not_A_Megalomaniac |
Cos some people - and the sad thing is that they're too self-absorbed to know who they are - find it quite acceptable to make people's lives a misery by being rude and obnoxious and then hide behind some mental illness or other as some way to gain total exemption from the repercussions of their actions. Self-pity is not an attractive quality.
Now don't think for one second I don't appreciate what it's like to HAVE a mental illness or to be ruled by one, or to watch someone you love destroy themselves cos of one. But we all have our own shit to deal with.
If I wrote down here all that had happened to me in the last three years (you want me to list a few? Okay - raped by my now ex-best friend, a suicide attempt, self-harming, eating disorders enough to screw up my digestive organs forever, watching one of my best friends die of cancer, the man I loved dumping me for a married woman twice my age, my brother going to prison, my mother being diagnosed with skin cancer - all really tame stuff that's an everyday occurrence, I'm quite sure - but it's worn ME down a bit over the years) I'd probably end up boring the hell out of you and killing myself.
Some things don't need to be gone over again, rammed down people's throats in an effort to induce pity from them - or even worse, force out some kind of a friendship. Sometimes y'know, it's not even anyone's business. And people know that, and they don't want to hear it. It sounds callous, but again, we all have our own shit to deal with.
People like me self-medicate in many ways. I don't trust doctors as far as I can throw them - specially after the fiasco of almost getting the job at the NHS but then not (see an earlier journal entry for details), and anti-depressants just sent me more round the twist than I already was. So I have to sort myself out.
I don't really drink to excess, although I like a good drink. I like a lot of good drink, but I don't like losing control. I don't smoke - and due to my general hideousness and sheer unattractiveness to the opposite sex - I can't shag around. To be honest, the only male affectionate contact I've had of late has been cuddles off Tim Brooke-Taylor and the sexiest cuddling, kissing and talking into hair encounter with Graeme Garden (if only I hadn't been dressed as him at the time, it probably would've been a lot better!), which although it makes people here jealous - getting turned on and excited by the fact that a 60-odd year old man cuddled the hell out of you can only mean that nobody else would look at you.
So in the absence of anything else I can do - I overeat. Lots. I don't feel happy unless I make myself ill with eating. The comedown is crap, but the feeling of gorgeous food going down your throat, filling you up and up to somehow fill a hole that you know really can never be filled by food, but what the hell... god it's indescribable.
I also use escapism. Lots of it. I call myself by a silly nickname to get away from having to be me. I watch television programmes, listen to music, read magazines, dress in clothes that were fashionable 30-40 years before I was born. I feel safe and at home in my little bubble of a world I've made. Nobody hurts me, everyone loves me - and the few people I let join in on that world are some of the best friends I've ever made. But only when I let them in. Some days not even my little world works properly. I get self-conscious and embarrassed and convinced I'm hated by everyone, I'm just a boring irritation that they only tolerate when they want something. I get suspcious and hateful of people. Then I eat more to take away the feeling. Then I get angry with myself for being so weak as to eat all that I have and it mostly ends up down the toilet.
I don't want any sympathy - I don't want to shock anyone - and I certainly don't want to offend anyone. Really. I'm merely pointing out that you can get a one-sided opinion of somebody because of how they can come across, but you don't know really what the deal is with them. We're all guilty of it, no matter who we are. Maybe we should all stop dwelling on the shit we know we're in the middle of trying to sort out and make sure other people are still hanging on in there. Sometimes it takes your mind off your own demons.
I probably had some form of a point to make when I started writing this, but I dunno what it is now. But ye gods I could do with a Tim Cuddle right about now...
Mood - Crap Crap Crappety Crap - Consider Me Depressed...
Music - Ironing My Goldfish - ISIRTA |
| Edited - Never |
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