paranoid

I have been avoiding blogging, confessional blogging anyway. I think I suddenly have  fea rof who might find it and what they might find out, it has become like a diary and I’m not sure if there is safety in that anymore. I don’t think some people would be happy with the things they read here. Maybe I am just feeling a bit paranoid.

Saturday Stranger

I don’t usually drink but I did this weekend. I needed an out,  it has been a long week.

With all the stress of all our fighting, all the making up, the late night conversations, the fear of not being able to fix it and the boredom of work, the lack of motivation, I started drinking

Friday night I went from sober to drunk in what was about 40 minutes. I got a lecture which was wrapped in what is more commonly called “friendly advice” to drink slower. Which of course brings me to Saturday where I drank slower and got more drunk, ended up kissing a stranger, which has you may be aware is only the second time this has happened.

It was nice to be liked, liked isn’t even the right word. That guy didn’t even know me but he noticed me, or maybe there was no one else out with him. I don’t know. The point was it was strange to have this strangers arms around me and all I was doing was thinking about someone else. I didn’t like that, I have no freedom because of him. He saw us leave together and seemed happy, Yeah that wasn’t the reaction I want you idiot.  I want you to care, not be happy for me. The guy talked too much, more than me, more than any other human I know. He was sweet though, not a lads lad and wasn’t retarded. The lads watched us kissing from our balcony which again felt weird and I just wanted to leave to be inside with them.

A friend mentioned the next day that he wasn’t very good looking. I wasn’t too bothered about how he looked. He didn’t seem bothered about how I looked, You can’t have it both ways now can you. This kind of upset me though. I never have the confidence to talk to strangers, I rarely give them the time of day  but I gave this guy a chance and we chatted for ages, we kissed and he walked me home. He wasn’t a scumbag or a drug dealer and he even texted me the next day, granted I don’t want to see him but to me he seemed like a nice guy but it seemed to be put down as if he wasn’t good looking so “Meh”

To me, it was a big al. I left my comfort zone and left him go home alone for a change.

Anyway

So I have said all that I want to say, all that I need to say. There are absolutely no words left until he sorts it out.

He has to figure it out for himself now, I am not his mother, his sister, his girlfriend or his wife, I am his friend. I don’t know how or when it got so bad but somewhere along the line I forgot about myself and I let him treat me in a way you don’t treat the people you love. I kept calm and spoke in a gentle voice, I watched his tears fall on to the pillow and all I did was concentrate on a bracelet, turning it around and around just to avoid looking at him. My heart felt heavy but I knew if I didn’t stand up for myself he would never see me. He has started to resent me, more from his own fear than any of my own doing but resentment is still resentment however you dress it up.

I didn’t want  leave him though, I didn’t want to leave him there alone. We lay side by side, looking at each other, not even talking, him crying and me just staring. It wasn’t awkward, it was just the way it was meant to be. He said he was scared, I told him join the club, I am scared you won’t figure it out I whispered to him. He nodded and I wiped some more tears, I eventually got up and gave him a kiss and turn off the lamp and left, a few hours later I realised it had been turned back on and I could hear him in his room, I wanted to go in to him, I even stood outside for a minute and thought about it, I went back to my own room and locked the door, locking up my feeling for the night, only to dream about him anyway.

This week and for other weeks to follow…

I will…

wear more make~up

have a drink or two when out

dress for the occassion, whatever that may be

wash and straighten hair everyday

think before I speak

not talk vulgar

be more girlie

giggle

Yeah, I draw the line at giggling.

Being a proper girl is hard work by the looks of it.

One of the lads

All weekend I spent with the lads, out in town, at a BBQ, back out in town, up at the apartment, music festival in the park. boys, boys, boys all weekend and you know what? I love them, I love being around them, they are so funny BUT man does it get boring sometimes. Maybe it was over kill, maybe I was just off form but if I hear “Did you hear/see *insert name of random band* song/music video wasn’t it brilliant/shite” etc etc etc.. You see where this is going, NOW imagine that for three hours, yeah THREE full hours at one point. While it is great to be included at such events as all boys BBQ’s, I felt like walking home and they did not live near anything, not a mind a bus route!

Maybe it’s me, maybe I am jealous of their passion, their enthusiasm for music. I need to find my thing, my thing to be passionate about. I can’t seem to find it though and not for a lack of looking either. Everything in the house in music related, they are organising a band room now. Do you know what that means? Everyone will just be down there now jamming and not in our living room, of course, I don’t jam because I don’t play and that leaves me where? Here, alone.Of course Ro has tried to include me, you can decorate he said, Alright I thought that could be fun, Don’t go expecting free range though! Oh, so you meant I can just do it in a way you tell me too? Yeah, that’s not really fun, that’s me doing your work for you! No thanks! Again though, this is me just grabbing on to their thing, since I don’t have my own.

I think I miss having a female friend to talk too, about boys and period pains and all that. Now credit where credit is due, Kyle does listen to me, Brian does help me when I’m getting ready to go out and Ro is always around for random chats. It is different though, I can’t put my finger on it though. I love being around them but their testosterone puts me off men altogther. Why don’t I have a boyfriend my Dad keeps asking, you’ve all theses boys around you and you can’t get one of them to like you. Well you know what, I’m not sure I’d want a boy to like me sometimes, yeah I get lonely and all that but boys are so fickle and they talk to each other about them. I don’t want to be some discussions in some lads living room. What I look like, what I wear, am I funny, the thought makes  me feel ill.

*insert moaning here* It is definitly one of those days.

Food for thought

I have a friend who has bulimia. I heard through someone else and eventually when she got scared enough she told me herself, I was ready though. I had looked up what supports that were there and what help was available to her. Sometime back in November, long before she told me but I knew I found an advert for OE anon. This stands for over eaters anon, for people who can’t stop eating, purging, over exercising and who generally have a bad relationship with food. I immediately thought of myself which I was surprised at. Over the few weeks, I thought about it, Do I have a bad relationship with food?

More recently she contacted me about her purging again and I told her all about this group and how it was time to get help now because her body was telling her enough was enough. I contacted the group and chatted with the lady on the phone, she was helpful and nice and spoke in an english accent. We talked about my friend and what the triggers were and I found myself in the same situation as I explained hers. While I wasn’t purging, I was certainly bingeing. It struck me that I might not only be able to help her, but myself too.

Terrified but feeling brave because she had come with me, I brought her to the open monthly meeting, someone talks about their experience and well that was it really. Coming out I felt this odd sense fo relief. I had found what I was looking for, I had found where they were, the people who were addicted to food like me. No one sees it of course, the late night eating, the sweets I buy in secret, the large quantities of food I cook that won’t get finished until I’m alone with it, the sneak eating in other rooms, this feeling of anxiety of I don’t get chocolate when I need it.

My relationship with food was way worse than I realised, apparently it’s even a disease even though I’m not sure I would call it that. BED. Binge eating disorder. It can stem from anywhere, an emotional reaction like being sad or even happy so eating loads, being full but eating more, filling a void so to speak with food. I spent a week keeping in tabs with myself, I thought about food more than I thought about anything else, I would eat dinner and wonder what and when was I going to eat next. Like craving a cigarette, I found myself, not even consciously just opening and closing the fridge and looking inside and I wouldn’t be hungry, I would be full. I it was mental, to watch myself walking around in a daze thinking about food, I couldn’t believe it was taking up so much time.

I went to my very first  closed meeting last week, I was sent ahead of the friend, to check it out. She doesn’t want prayers or hugging. They say the serenity prayer and a sweet anorexic girl asked could she hug me at the end. I won’t be telling anyone that I am going but even though it was a really strange place, I’m going to keep going,  if it helps me to not eat everything in sight then it’s doing no harm.

Himself

He was the one who called me artfreak. The one who maked my tummy have butterflies for 6 years if not more, the one who used to send me to mush and the one who had a smile that would knock me for six. He was on his way home Thursday according to his e~mail. Two years in Central America and only a few e~mails, when he left we weren’t even on speaking terms.

I could nearly sense him, it was the oddest thing. I was late heading down to meet the boys in a pub we rarely go to and out of the corner of my eye I saw him. Head still shaved, big brown eyes and he was chatting away to two girls I didn’t recognise. I exhaled slowly, weaved my way through the crowd and up the stairs to my friends where I started to decide what to do, this of course meant asking over and over again did I look okay. I’m not even sure why I cared. I haven’t seen him in years, he doesn’t have an influence on my life anymore but somewhere I deep down I knew 13 year old me wouldn’t let me sit upstairs knowing he was down there so I headed back down.

I ordered a drink and wandered over his direction. Calling his name in a questionable tone, as if to say. “Is that you?” It seemed to have been convincing enough and he smiled up at me. For a second I had an awful and unrealistic fear he wouldn’t remember my name. Ridiculous I know. On and off for 6 years, a friendship steeped in so much history you would make a movie about it, chances of forgetting my name are slim. Still though, it was  nice to hear the old familiar voice saying my name, It nearly sounded safe in his mouth.

We hugged and kissed and chatted. I was at a loss for words, unprepared for seeing him I said “Oh” and “Ah” a lot at photographs. I could feel him watching me, summing me up, trying to read me. I felt like saying you’re wasting your time, I’m so different to the way you remember me, but I knew in part that wasn’t true, he knew me when I was a kid and those are sometimes the people who know you the best, the people who knew you before you became someone.

We made small talk, he introduced me to the girls, he called me his friend and he complimented me. He said he would mail and get my number and that it would be great to catch up properly. I didn’t offer it and I didn’t want to give it to him. I like to have people in my life who want to be there with me for adventures,  dull days and for all the other days in between those. I’m not sure I want him around but it was great to see him. It was better this way I have decided, just to bump into him. I would have panicked otherwise, what to wear, where to meet, who to bring with me. This way, I wasn’t ready, I wasn’t doubting myself. I was on my way to meet some friends and happened to bump into someone I knew a long time ago, that’s all he has become, someone I knew a long time ago… but if that was true, why didn’t I go say Hi the first time I saw him?

Knowing her, Knowing me, Knowing you

I knew I should have gone to bed as soon as they had come home but I was curious. I had met her a few times at gigs but he had brought her home to let her listen to the new album, he mentioned her recently, in passing saying that he had met her boyfriend and it didn’t bother him. He could watch her fuck someone else in front of him and he wouldn’t bat and eyelid. I was intrigued to see how her would interact with her knowing this. We all chatted, I knew her years ago, she was a few years ahead of me in school. Talk eventually turned to their relationship that had started 10 years previous, I think it lasted 3 years as far as I recall. Relationship talked turned to sex and it was interesting to see how she spoke about him, as if she still knew him better than anyone. Making references to “that time” while smiling and laughing to herself, sometimes he smiled back and other times he kept talking.

I could see that he didn’t realise that in some small way she still had a hold of him. When you lose yourself with someone whether it be just your virginity or mentally giving yourself to someone, they will always have that little bit. The first one will anyway, you learn to protect your heart that little bit more over time. She still had a little bit of his and he still had a little bit of hers. She mentioned her boyfriend and they mocked each other about what they were like when they were young but it was still there, young love. They certainly are not in love with each other but it was like a flash back to a couple I never met, I could see them laughing and joking. I could see them together, he is different now he tells me but not all that different. I guess in a way I was jealous, they have managed to stay friends, that all takes time but they can reminisce about all the fun times they had together. I want that.

I left them alone and as I said goodnight he moved seats to sit next to her. I realised that somewhere deep down without even realising it she did help him more than he realised, she gave him confidence, as first girlfriend usually do. I went to my room and could hear them laughing and it made my tummy feel a little funny. How no matter how much time goes by you always feel like you know someone the best if you went out with them, she made sure to direct the conversation no matter what we talked about to reiterate how close they were, how well she know him and constantly saying “Remember that time?” It made me think do we all do that? Do we all feel like we know our ex’s (or even other people in general,old friends etc?) better than anyone just because we had a connection with them before, even if it was years ago?

Do I know Liam better than anyone even though I have not talked to him in years?

Even though I haven;t spoken to Rachel is over a year, Do I still know her the best?

I thought about this for a while and he climbed into my bed just as I hoped he would, I told him all about my day and how I hoped that June would be a good month. I told him theory on knowing people the best, he told me he remembered some girl he slept with last year, told me the story in great detail, I’m surprised I didn’t vomit. It made me realise that this girl who had just left our house knew him, past tense knew him. I know him now. I know him inside out and I’m starting to think he doesn’t know me at all. At least not the important bits.

Musical Family

We have no TV in our apartment, we have 3 ipods, a record player and that’s it. That is our entertainment.

We have 3 guitars, drums, a keyboard, a violin and a tin whistle. So, as you can tell we are a musical family.Well they are musical anyway. Me? Not so much. Late at night the boys will say that they are going to bed, one of them will pick up a guitar and that’ll be it, for about an hour anyway, they will get lost in the  music, someone will sit at the drums and follow the beat. After the drums kick in, I know I’ve lost them. Conversations we were in the middle of will be lost and I will have to wait for the next break in song to talk, it doesn’t matter though because they are all in some musical trace. I have come to love it and hate it all at once, I could be in the middle of a great chat and sudden the mood has gone and it’s all over, a moment where someone was about to chnage in from a good conversation into a great one. This can be frustrating but other times without even realising it, I find myself getting more frystrated at the fact that I can’t play along. I am only able to nod my head to the beat.

I have tried learning and I am getting better but the boys get frustarted with me easily, forgetting that I am only playing a week. Someday, I hope I can pick it up and just join in, then we really wil be a musical family.

Lucky Girl

This week was a mess, a mess of emotions, ups and downs, tears and tribulations. I had to go talk to all of the boys seperately. I had to them in different ways, with a sharp tongue, with a claming tone and I even chickened out and sent one and e~mail. I am becoming my own best friend it seems. I started counselling last week and she was lovely, a wam bubble girl called Cathy. Apparently even though I already knew it, you have to learn to put yosuelf first sometimes, if I can’t help myself then I can’t help others and more than anything I love to help people.

Thankfully even though the boys can do my head in sometimes, they are my favourite people in the world. Ironically When I first met Ro, he was my friend of 2008, you know the one you start spending all your time with, Kyle was 2009 and now in 2010 it is definitly Brian. I think I’ve gathered a good group around me and aside form some shouting, mostly just in defence, they have been understanding. I am lucky. I am always a rollercoaster of emotions and they always stand by me and for that I am eternally grateful.