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Monday 13 December 2010

High, Creep and Uselessness


I’m apologising now.  I swore, several months ago that I would look at everything positively, but today I can’t – for more than one reason.  If you don’t want to read further, then go away and come back tomorrow.







Physically, I am feeling ill.  Why?  Well, this poem I wrote this morning should explain it a little better than I can articulate at the moment…

High?

Head spinning, stomach churning,
I try my best to walk upstairs.
Is this really preferable to being blue?
To wondering what I should do?

Prescription in, just have to wait,
Breakfast gurgles in my tummy.
Will I really be this sick?
If I stop the tablets quick?

I remember the feeling of High,
Staring at the stars and trees.
Colours melding, sounds so thrilling,
I could listen for hours to dentists drilling.

I wish my tablets would take me there,
I wish they could be nice, not nasty.
When I came down from being free,
I felt good from what I'd seen.

But Anti-depressants just even you out,
They take you from black to grey.
They don't let you see the world,
In the way it was first unfurled.

Tears come easily when I'm down,
The lack of drug making me iller.
Why can't they at least try,
to make the come down feel like a High?

I hate taking the anti-depressants; sadly they are the only thing that is keeping me sane (I think) and when I don’t take them, I feel like I have a hangover.  A proper, three-whole-bottles-of–white–wine hangover, you know how that feels; the room spins, you feel like throwing up, you can’t walk straight and your eyes blur and seem to cross of their own accord.  I get the shivers as well and a headache – and it doesn’t go away until you take a tablet. My own fault for forgetting to put the prescription in, I suppose…

Add to that, the pain in my lower abdomen that won’t go away and the Doctors can’t find a reason for.

They’re blaming IBS. I have had IBS for eight years, I know what it feels like and the pain is there, even when I am not having a spasm, but because they can’t see anything inside my bowel, they still blame the IBS. I've got to have blood tests next...

*sighs painfully*

Mentally, I am having a terrible day. I went for a job interview on Friday. It was one of those jobs that the Government made up to get people off benefit and the funding has been cut to the programme, so that was my last chance for those jobs.

I heard from the department I went to, this morning.  They have taken on someone more suitable for the job.

Never mind it wasn’t the job that I went for in the first place, or that I could have walked out when I realised that fact and stayed because it sounded like an interesting job to do.  I did my best to win them over and left the interview thinking that I was unlikely to get it, but hoping I did.

I hope that the person that did get it was an IT trained professional at least. That way I would be happy that someone deserving got it.  If some teenager with no proper experience in IT, other than playing games and mucking around on the net, got it , then I would be incredibly angry.

*Sighs unhappily*

I feel useless. In fact there is one song that pretty much sums me up today –

Creep by Radiohead

When you were here before
Couldn't look you in the eye
You're just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry
You float like a feather
In a beautiful world
I wish I was special
You're so fucking special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here

I don't care if it hurts
I want to have control
I want a perfect body
I want a perfect soul
I want you to notice when I'm not around
You're so fucking special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell I'm doing here?
I don't belong here

She's running out again
She's running out
She runs runs, runs

Whatever makes you happy
Whatever you want
You're so fucking special
I wish I was special

But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here
I don't belong here


I feel like I don’t deserve to be on this planet. I’m useless as a teacher (according to my references from the last school I worked in), I can’t even get a simple admin or retail position and my writing has lost its sparkle.

On that last point, I feel like I can’t write anything. I started a rhyming children's story about Christmas last week.  It isn’t going anywhere. I left it alone and did some crafting.  When I tried again, it still didn’t work, so I went back to my knitting.


Yes, before you point it out, I know I am writing this – I’m talking about writing fiction not feelings…

Currently there doesn’t seem to be much hope for any of my careers at the moment. I can’t write, so I won’t get published.  My webzine is obviously so stupid that no one wants to submit anything unless I badger them (and I hate nagging anyone), so I might as well get rid of it.  I can’t Teach or get any job.  All I can really do is whinge and moan… 

*sighs*

By tomorrow I should be feeling better (I’ll get the tablets this afternoon and take one as soon as I can) and I hope everything will be back to normal.  So if you managed to get to the end of this pity-fest, this lack-of-self-confidence party, this depressing and stupid waste of megabytes, I applaud you for your tenacity and thank you for your friendship.  ‘Coz only a true friend would even read past the poem.

Excuse me, I’m going to go and lie down…

*Walks away in a wobbly fashion, in search of chocolate.*



Edit:  Same day; 9pm...

I've had my tablet and the world has lightened to a dull grey. I've managed to get some sort of stomach bug that is making me feel really yuck. I do hope that I feel better tomorrow...

1 comment:

  1. Honey, I read way past the poem. All the way.
    You are a creative and productive human being, my friend. I only allow people into my small world that deserve a place there.
    What do they need to do to earn it, they need to be good people, with humour, tolerance of others, and the ability to feel things deeply. They need to reach the me that doesn't trust easily, make me think, laugh and yes cry on rare occasions. The need to stimulate my imagination with their creativity, and give me a sense of belonging.
    They also need to understand the darkness that depression brings, and have the guts to face it and medicate if necessary. You my friend are qualified to do all of the above.
    If you apply for the position of being YOU I will gladly give you the job.
    Much love.
    Soooz.

    ReplyDelete