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Fahckmylife's Blog
Crap adult, OK human.

Apr
16

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Something really weird happened the other day, possibly because it was nearly my birthday or some song triggered something in my head that made everything realign. I’m not going to say I’m ‘cured’ of self-doubt and my mental problems, but now all of sudden, they’re manageable. I mean I’m still messy – I mean I could spend less time on the interwebs, could eat better and exercise more and probably drink a bit less – but nobody’s perfect, wha? Whatever the fuck happened anyway it was like a massive weight lifted off me and I realised that I have developed some serious skillz when it comes to improving myself and that I’m going to continue to do it. I gave myself a little pat on the back for coming so far. I wouldn’t say I’m proud of myself exactly but my confidence is improving on a daily basis and my head is way less full of fuck.

A year ago I was half the person I am now (not physically though, somehow I’ve lost weight without actually trying). I was completely ground down, completely stressed out, drinking an insane amount, in a bad relationship with the life literally being sucked out of me. I had no motivation, very little self-esteem left, no focus, regular panic attacks and was actually reaching a serious low in my life. I won’t even get into the specifics because it was really bad and I withdrew from most of the people I knew and became a bit of a recluse. This wasn’t purely down to the crappy relationship (but it was a big part of it) because I think I was in denial about other previous issues that I didn’t want to face.

So what happened? How did I become this beaming ray of positivity that you see before you? How did I change myself back into a bad ass? How did I make the anxiety subside? Also, how did I start managing and regulating my feelings – bearing in mind that I’m highly sensitive, empathetic and anxious? Again, I’m not saying I’m perfect, and hopefully, this doesn’t seem like a massive self-indulgent and congratulatory post but maybe, just maybe, some of this might help someone else. Here’s a list of some of the things that I did that have cleared my head up. In fairness, this whole process took me about eight months, but I’m better than I have been in a long time.

Asked for help

This is not something I could’ve done before and considering I don’t really trust many people it was pretty hard. Even out of some weird kinda pride thing I wouldn’t generally ask people for any kind of help, or maybe because I thought I didn’t have any support open to me, or maybe I thought nobody gave a shit. But I did. I asked two people and went to therapy (at a cheap rate). And it all helped and the people that helped are greatly appreciated.  I stopped moping and moaning, used the talks for the heavy shit and stopped internalising some pretty bad stuff.

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Rebuilt confidence/ Self-esteem

Initially, I couldn’t name one thing that I liked about myself when asked but now I’m starting to be able to see good things. I stopped comparing myself to other people full stop. I stopped looking at other people to tell me how much worth I have. You ever hear the phrase along the lines of ‘don’t place your happiness in anyone else’s hands’ – well, it’s true because people are dopes and it’s pretty much my mantra now. If you look to other people to tell you who you are or aren’t or what worth you have, you have no control over your own narrative and identity. I mean, obviously if people tell you that you’re shit every day it’s going to have an impact on you, so you need to control the narrative by telling your story and cutting the negativity loose.  Cut the fuckers out!

While I know I can’t control everything I am aware that there are things within my control. A massive source of my confidence comes particularly from my independence and ability to solve problems on my own. There is some strange satisfaction in my completion of tasks and taking charge of my own life again completely, and that makes it harder for new people to get in because if I’m honest there’s not a whole bunch anyone can give me that I can’t give myself. That’s not to say I don’t want to let people in eventually but it will be a cold day in fucking hell before I rely on another human being ever again. In saying that, my main focus was platonic relationships and making those connections stronger, and I do have lots of lovely people around me now.

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Numbed myself

This was super important in the aftermath of everything and seems very extreme, but you know what? My feelings are super extreme. Most people would say that going on copious amounts of dates (this might be a funny blog in itself) to fill up your time and stop yourself being bored is a bad thing. I disagree. I went out and had fun, met new people, did all the bold things, I travelled the country, met up with friends with good connections, did everything that I wanted when I wanted, drank, kissed, attempted flirting (I still don’t think I can) and danced like a fucker. I did all of this until I grew tired of it, having had enough and was bored of dates and men being dopes and decided to just take my good stories with me and refocus my attention elsewhere. I was messy, there’s no denying it but it was fun, although not sustainable and I had some great fun. I wasn’t looking for a relationship or something to fill up all the empty space – I was trying to literally just have fun until I knew I had to cop on. I genuinely smiled and laughed and started to think about how I couldn’t be as shit as I thought I was.

LOOK AT ME HAVING CONVERSATIONS WITH STRANGERS AND MAKING THEM LAUGH!

LOOK AT ME NOT GIVING A FUCK DANCING!

LOOK AT ME TRAVELLING ACROSS THE COUNTRY HUNGOVER TO FRIENDS!

LOOK AT ME NOT DOING ANYTHING BUT FEELING HAPPY!

Maybe it was a case of fake it until you make though, eh? Making myself this tired because I super went out loads shut down all my feelings – which for me is excellent – there was just one problem with this (and it still is a bit of an issue) and that is that they’re still shut off. I mean, this is great for being productive (maybe not so much creative though) as I got some clarity. It was like I disconnected an overloaded plugboard, but in the process, I disconnected everything. I stopped caring about the majority of things. So now, I’ve got this crazy wall up around me for the first time in a long time but maybe this is how a ‘normal’ person feels all the time.

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Became more assertive

I’m not thick. I know when someone is taking the piss out of me. I can read a room. I can tell what people are feeling. I’m decent at reading people. You’d think I’d be super manipulative with this but I’m not – I use my powers for good, not evil. Disconnecting my feelings made me a bit more objective. I’ve kinda had to become a bit more selfish though. I like looking after people but now I won’t do it if they’re actually harming me or cherry-picking facts to support how I’m shit. You can’t fill a black hole with niceties, no matter how hard you try. So, I’ve told people to fuck off and played, as diplomatically as I can, to my strengths. I learned to say shit out loud when it bothered me pretty much straight away. I’ve cut out crap and I’ve told people when they’ve pissed me off rather than seething silently. I’ve taken opportunities when I’ve seen them and been as direct as I can to get what I think would benefit me. I’ve walked away from stupid arguments and not given it a second thought. Fuck it, I’ve looked after other people’s needs for way too long – time to do what betters my situation.

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I am now a robot with no feels.

Spent time alone and became more positive

After having all the fun I spent a lot of time on my own. Even when I was ‘having fun’ there were still lengthy time periods that I had on my own that I didn’t before. Initially, I was at a loss what to do, watching Netflix for ages and dwelling on shit I didn’t want to, but then I suddenly became more proactive. I remembered that I love my own company. I started writing more, reading more, drawing, walking and refused to let the past determine my future. I made lists of people and things that I am grateful for and started making an effort with my appearance again. I made playlists of music to make me happier and slowly but surely let go of things. I could do whatever I wanted now and there is no reason to ever be bored. I thought about what scared me and decided whether to avoid it or force myself into it. I filled up all the space with things that I wanted to do and had enough free time to empty my clusterfuck of a head. I remembered who I was and what makes me me. I considered options in my life and made some headway with my impulsive actions. I focused on several things I’d like to change and thought about how I could do this for me and Oscar. Now, it’s hard for me to stay still for a day and my head is full of ideas and positive things to do.

I’m not saying that any of these things will work for anyone else and I’m definitely not saying I’m 100% now or anything or that I won’t fecking relapse. I mean there are things I’m scared of such as anything 6 months in the future or moving again or my proper feelings coming back. I’m still somewhat concerned, although to a much lesser extent, of what people think of me BUT I haven’t cried in weeks and I have a lot to be grateful for. I’m coming back to myself resilient as fuck and I’m not staying lodged in the bullshit of the past. Lesson learned like and I refuse to feel sorry for myself. I’ll still drink too much and swear too much but in the grand scheme of things I’ve improved, and will continue to do so, so much that I’m nearly a different person than I was last year.  Maybe the magic mushrooms have something to do with it too actually… but maybe that’s for another day.

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Mar
06

 

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I haven’t written in a while but this has been bugging me for years.  In this blog post I will attempt to discuss how Shaggy’s 2000 hit ‘It Wasn’t Me’ is extremely problematic – not only because of its inherent misogyny, but also, and mostly, its complete lack of logic.  My point is essentially to highlight how nonsensical this entire song is.

The song features vocals from English-Jamaican singer Rikrok. The lyrics are about a man asking his friend what to do after his girlfriend caught him having sex with another woman. For those of you who have never encountered this playful song I have included the video below.

And now for my thoughts:

 

‘How you can grant your woman access to your villa
Trespasser and a witness while you cling to your pillow
You better watch your back before she turn into a killer
Let’s review the situation that you’re caught up inna
To be a true player you have to know how to play
If she say a night, convince her say a day
Never admit to a word when she say
And if she claims ah you tell her baby no way’

 

The misogyny is rife in this one.  Women clearly are just dangerous when they’re angry because you’ve been motherfuckin’ gas lighting them.  How dare you be a stupid man that gives a key to your girlfriend?  How dare you?!  Even the part ‘if she say a night, convince her say a day’ drips of emotional manipulation. I mean, I suppose if you’re into the ‘game’ and just getting your hole fine – but messing with people’s heads is pretty shitty, no?  I know it’s a playful song, but this screams abusive relationship.  Shaggy you are a mean man.

 

‘Honey came in and she caught me red-handed
Creeping with the girl next door
Picture this, we were both butt naked
Banging on the bathroom floor
I had tried to keep her
From what she was about to see
Why should she believe me
When I told her it wasn’t me’

 

She won’t believe you because you were riding the woman in front of her, ye dope.  Also why were ya riding on the bathroom floor?  That’s a nasty gross place filled with germs.  And how did you try to keep her from seeing it exactly?  By trying to schedule different times. Man, yer a bleeding dope.

 

When I look at these lyrics I really can’t understand the logic of his friend’s advice:

 

‘But she caught me on the counter (It wasn’t me)
Saw me bangin’ on the sofa (It wasn’t me)
I even had her in the shower (It wasn’t me)
She even caught me on camera (It wasn’t me)’

 

How can you honestly look at someone ‘bangin’ on the counter’ and they reply that it wasn’t them in the past tense.  Is he advising his friend to look at his girlfriend whilst banging another person and tell her that he isn’t him in the past tense?  I mean the other option is to say ‘it isn’t me’ which is not a great option either unless his body had been taken over by an alien or you have an evil twin that likes to ride people in yer gaff, but even saying that it isn’t you means essentially that it is.  Surely being caught red handed actually makes the entire thing irrefutable?  Seriously, this entire thing kept me awake at night.

 

‘She saw the marks on my shoulder (It wasn’t me)
Heard the words that I told her (It wasn’t me)
Heard the screams get louder (It wasn’t me)
She stayed until it was over’

 

Jesus dude, you were caught loads.  How did she get that far with you?  Is she really that stupid?  Also, it is pretty obvious that the marks on your shoulder weren’t from you either, were they?  So you just admitted someone else marked your shoulder by saying ‘it wasn’t me’.  And if your lady stayed until the whole thing was over (pretty nice of her by the way, but maybe she was confused and thought you were wrestling) again there’s irrefutable evidence, yeah?  Did she watch you in the all the places listed in the song in one go or was this over the period of a few weeks where she’d sneak in to watch you guys ride and then suddenly appear?  Like why at least did you not change your MO after she caught you the first time?

 

‘Gonna tell her that I’m sorry
For the pain that I’ve caused
I’ve been listening to your reasoning
It makes no sense at all
We should tell her that I’m sorry
For the pain that I’ve caused
You may think that you’re a player
But you’re completely lost
That’s why I sing’

At least we can see that this guy can see that Shaggy’s advice is pure bollox with ‘it makes no sense at all’.  It doesn’t make any sense.  He’s right.  Although why did he let him go on singing/advising him with gibberish?  I’m sure Shaggy thinks by confusing women that you can get away with anything.  Ah poor Shaggy.  Maybe Shaggy started to slowly lose his mind at this point in his life and Rikrok was just humouring him (‘let the auld fella talk shite – sure nobody even understands him anyway’). I don’t want to get hung up on semantics (but I totally am) but that was the most bothersome part of the entire defence.

I would hope Rikrok would apologise to be fair.  Although, by his definition he is not a player.  But Rikrok you were banging people all over the gaff – you’ve listed the bathroom floor, the counter, the shower and even on the camera (where exactly, unless you were literally on the camera?) – That sounds a bit like you are a player to me.  ‘But you’re completely lost/That’s why I sing’ – you’re right Rikrok, I am completely lost.  You were banging all over the gaff, but it wasn’t you in the past tense or perhaps you at all, despite being caught ‘red-handed’ and you’re not a player so you sing about the things that you do that could be construed as you being a player.  And Rikrok, you’re only sorry cos you got caught.

 

ARGH!  If you liked this song I hope I ruined it on you because I can’t get past these stupid lyrics.

 

 

Jan
29

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If you died what would your instructions be?

Rena, clear out the middle drawer in my bedroom before anyone can see and scream at my body in the church saying that bit out of My Girl ‘She can’t see without her glasses!’ Also, put googley eyes on my body in the coffin.

“What is the nature of God, is God really dead or just sleeping?” (and yes, I realize that is really 3 questions, but I figured the Trinity model was most apt)

I’d say I’m agnostic but that’s possibly more hopeful than anything. So, honestly, I think I am going to answer all three questions like this:

God is a social construct to make us feel like we have order in our lives. That’s fine if it gives you a moral compass or whatever or some way of sorting out the way that life is unfair but I don’t believe in things that project some kind of reward and punishment in the chaos of real life. Like the universe does not restore itself. God isn’t asleep, dead or ignoring us – he’s not there. I think it is a bit dangerous to think that the order is maintained on a moral level in the universe – just look at animals like. As much as I would like to believe in a cosmic being looking after us it really isn’t a thing, because all the bastards get to keep being bastards and nothing happens. The universe just is – it doesn’t have morals and ‘karma’ is a stupid concept too created in order to make us feel like there will be justice.

Why have people allowed let social media give them a self-entitlement? It has made the vast majority of society obnoxious. It was meant to be social.

Because social media allows everyone to hide and/or say shit that they wouldn’t in person. Assholes can feel brave or people don’t think through the repercussions of what they say. And people can pick holes with every single little thing that people say and get overblown angry about it. I think it might be calming down a little though – or maybe that’s just my experience now because not many people that I’m friends with seem to be fighting anymore. I keep away from comment sections and unless someone brings it to my door I don’t go looking for fights.

There is no point talking about things being ‘too PC’ or ‘stop being offended’ because when people start saying that shit I start to think that they’re a dick. Maybe people shouldn’t be dicks BUT I think a lot of people need to grow thicker skins too and choose their battles. Not everything has to be a massive issue. We need to all toughen up because we can’t change society. People are inherently dicks so just be prepared for that.

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Do you hate men?

No. I like men. I’m wary of men. I’m aware that not all men are pricks but I’m also aware that life for a man is very different than it is for a woman. I’m not an angry feminist but I’ll point out your shit and I’m aware that there are different factors involved than just gender. Hate is a very strong word anyway.

Watching small children eat makes me dry-heave and I have to leave the room. Apparently (source-my mother) thinks this is weird and unnatural. I disagree.

Specifically small children? It doesn’t extend to adults? If it was everyone I guess it would make sense. If it’s also purely a noise thing you could have ‘misophonia’, where you can get super distressed from it. I guess children eating are super messy and whilst it may not be usual, it makes sense. As long as you don’t puke on them it’s fine.

Introvert or extrovert?

I think I’m more of an introvert, with some extrovert parts. I like my own company an awful lot to be honest and silence/music of my choosing makes me very content. I prefer small groups of people and smoking areas than big parties or dance floors and although I am relatively confident I’m quite shy unless I’m drunk.

img_1626What gives you the horn?

Music. Beards. Ginger girls. People with nice shaped hands. Good chats. Nice kissing. Biting.

Without going into too much detail I got bored of porn a long time ago but I like erotic fiction.

Who’s the sexiest of all fictional extraterrestrials?

E.T.?! With that glowy finger. Crazy foreplay sessions.

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Where do you feel you are politically?

I’m a leftie. Clearly, but I think the left has kinda gone a bit awry getting hung up on semantics, calling people out unfairly and alienating people that could potentially be our allies/converts. I think Ireland has a good mix of socialism and capitalism but could do better and perhaps place more of an emphasis on the socialism aspect and less on looking after the already rich. A combination of both models to look after everyone and encourage growth would be ideal in my mind. But hey, what do I know? I’m not an economist. Nobody should be left behind though.
Do you think Leo Varadkar abuses himself with a Maggie Thatcher sex toy? Because imo he already has enough of that evil cow inside him as it is.

Probably. He’s a total fool that appears to be liberal but clearly isn’t. Going after social welfare fraud but not bankers, landlords and builders, who have cost this country more is just misdirecting anger towards people who can’t defend themselves.

I would suspect that his dildo may be more Maggie Thatcher influenced in shape than her actual shape though as the head would be a problematic shape for entering the anus without a serious amount of bum training and lube.

Try reading this: http://www.yellowrobe.com/component/content/article/120-majjhima-nikaya/286-channovda-sutta-advice-to-channa.html. I’d like to know what you think.

Is this about euthanasia (don’t know if I spelt that right?)? Or at least the idea that you can choose to die? Everyone should have that choice if (and when) things get too much for them when they’re seriously unwell.

What are your plans for the future?

I am planning on releasing a sequel to Fahckmylife later this year but I’ll possibly have to start a Fundit again to try and get it to a bigger audience. I’m also toying with the idea of a book or short stories and possibly another of filth fiction under a pen name (but this seems a bit daunting).

If you mean more in general, I’m not sure.  Something, something robots…

Give me an analysis on the fuckability of people with awful politics, I am sure you could say something about that.

I guess it depends on what constitutes bad politics and what you’re looking for from them. If it’s just a ride whatever like, although that rules it out going much deeper. If I thought someone was cool and their worldview ended up very different to mine, which I’ve noticed has happened, it’s disappointing and will probably end badly. That said how deep are you going to go with someone prior to a ride? I’m not going to talk to them about abortion or whatever beforehand. If it was more in relationship way they probably would have to have a similar (not completely the same mind you) mindset to mine for it to work.

What about Dirty Harry’s fucking paperwork?

He played by his own rules. Also, I doubt he’d be able to see without his glasses – you see how much he squints? And Dirty Harry with glasses doing paperwork just wouldn’t have the same impact.

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What’s your biggest regret?

Not valuing myself enough to get out of certain situations sooner and letting people tell me who I am which ruined my confidence and ability to make decisions. Also starting to smoke.
Is there any way we could see the report that TV cops have to file after one of their arrests?? I’d like to see them.

Now I’m a bit unsure about this. I think if they were genuine arrests on reality TV you can probably find some information online but I doubt actual evidence would be made public, particularly during a trial and stuff.

 

What’s your longest ‘dry spell’ been?

OK, this might sound like a mega conceited answer but I have never had a ‘dry spell’ that I didn’t deliberately decide to do in order to focus on other things. I’m not sure how long that was to be honest, like maybe a month or something. I’m not saying I’m cool or anything, but I like to have fun. Personally, I can’t let stuff like that build up.

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What are your new year resolutions for 2018?

I don’t do these but generally, I am going to:

Trust my gut instinct about things more.

Be more focused on improving myself.

Be kinder but more assertive.

Be more motivated.
What have you learned in the last year about yourself?

That my time is precious and not to waste it on fools.

Walk away from drama

Also, be wary as fuck of people – so I’m way more guarded than I used to be.

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Life advice for women?

Do kegels like your life depended on it.

 

 

 

Dec
18

Let’s face it, you’re a bit of a train wreck at the best of times, well either that or you seem to have a cold black stone where your heart should normally be, but you hold your shit together pretty well considering most of the time. However, Christmas is coming and we all know that means alternating between being locked and having the fear – two of the most delicate and emotional states of being. Whatever it is that fucks with you this time of year you need to protect yourself and project at least a half decent image of the more together you – because let’s face it, you’re a shite human being and you’re going to be plastered.

So here’s how:

  1. Before drinking change your Facebook status privacy to ‘just me’. Nobody wants to see ‘fjsisneiejs’ at 4.50am, a crazy long YouTube party or any of your thoughts on the year when you’re locked. You won’t even want to and it’ll make your fear worse.
  2. Ask for approval in your settings before being tagged in photos or things like this will happen:
  3. Delete toxic people’s numbers out of your phone so you can’t drink dial them or ring them when you have the fear.
  4. Bring a toothbrush everywhere.
  5. Don’t pay for drugs. Just don’t. Buy someone a drink or some shit.
  6. Don’t ride people you know already or work with. In other words, don’t shit where you eat. Ride a randomer on the sly or go on Tinder. Nobody will know your biz ness then.
  7. Dress well all the time. Treat every day like you’re going to get the ride, even if you don’t want to.
  8. Arrive late and hopefully sober to things.
  9. Remember to eat you fucking fool.
  10. Laugh all the time. Fake laugh. Shake your head and laugh till the mess of your life fades into obscurity.
  11. Move the bin beside the head of your bed.
  12. Listen to EDM 24/7 – no sad shit.
  13. Stay away from vodka and southern comfort – you know what they do to you!
  14. Hide money on yourself in your bra so you can always get home.
  15. Pack knickers
  16. When you find yourself getting too thoughtful go into the toilet and watch 5 minutes of parody porn to laugh and sober up slightly.
  17. Save your sadness for when you’re on your own watching The Green Mile in your filthy pjs.
  18. Buy yourself a present if you’re not expecting gifts from anyone like a sex toy or more drink.
  19. Surround yourself with people that are fun and who you think might like you but you’re not sure. Then you won’t have serious conversations.
  20. Ask your child for extra cuddles to make up for the general lack of affection in your life. Scare them slightly.
  21. Get drunk really early on New Year’s Eve, turn your phone off and fall asleep in your pants covered in crackers at 9pm.
  22. Buy a good supply of hangovers cures and craft a fake human to hold out of pillows with a hand drawn face for when you have the fear.
  23. Have a conversation with yourself in the mirror drunk when you’re fixing your make up telling yourself ‘you’re a mess’ till you find it hysterical.
  24. Puff, puff, pass – you don’t want to take a whitey.
  25. Never dance. You’re shit.
  26. Write down three things you want to change for the new year, crumple the page up, set it on fire and laugh.
  27. Get a go pro and attach it to yourself on nights out to do something creative with your nights out. Leave it a few weeks before reviewing the footage though.
  28. Start toasts with ‘here’s to being a fucking mess!’
Nov
22

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I want to talk about another serial thing people. Ugh GAWD, I know OK? Roll your eyes if you want or just move on – it’s fine. Nobody’s forcing you to read this but if you’re the kind of person that’s rolling your eyes at this, maybe you need to read it. Now before I go any further this isn’t gender specific, although I can only honestly speak from a female perspective and I clearly don’t aim to speak on behalf of anyone else, but I think it’s time people opened up or were opened up to other viewpoints. And I think Irish people are coming around slowly to some of these issues but there’s still a long way to go.
So anyway, here goes…. le sigh….
Mental health issues are a super important of life that goes ignored. We’re supposed to silently deal with things and just pretend they don’t exist. Solider on. Don’t burden anyone with our problems. Keep your head down. And even if you try to get help, it’s not always there and our services are completely underfunded. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we’re a nation that buries our faces in pints. A big nation of ostriches.
People can be really unhelpful when you’re dealing with a crisis. Sometimes, people sit around and think they can diagnose things from their armchairs when your behaviour becomes problematic to them. I’ve heard everything from bipolar to narcissistic to describe me – coming from people who probably spent a few hours looking up misinformation on the internet. I’ve been unhelpfully discredited for having real feels and told to ‘be positive’. I’ve been told I’m not capable of change and treated like I’m helpless or a pain in the hole because I don’t fit into neat little tidy boxes of what counts as sanity. And yes, I do have mental health issues but nobody ever guessed them right.
This is not a pity party – it is fact.  I have had anxiety issues all my life – as far back as I can remember, but there was something more and until recently I wasn’t sure. Now, the point of me talking about this isn’t looking for special treatment or pity – it’s more to show that this is the way it is for me and I’m sure other people – and that anxiety and depression aren’t the only mental health issues that face people – and that perhaps some are more stigmatised than others. Recently I was nudged (by a professional) towards a diagnosis of a personality disorder, borderline personality disorder, and my experience since then has been a very strange one. Immediately afterwards I Googled the shit out of it, although in my heart I already had had my suspicions that this was what I had for several years, and to my horror the information I found a lot of the time was not only wrong but actually completely horrible.
I think the internet is great in that we can source information on nearly anything we want BUT when it comes to needing solid concrete evidence people can brandish their own experience as fact. The disorder itself is way more complex than the majority of the information was that I found. I initially backed away from the internet, convinced from what I’d read that I was actually a terrible person. Now, I’m not saying that I’m perfect by any stretch, but the things I read that people (nonprofessionals I found out later) about the disorder used words like ‘all’ and ‘every’ and even in some psychologists chimed in with how we can’t function like normal people and are essentially a lost cause. Like we are unloveable. Like we are fucking helpless and incurable. I’m sure in some cases this may be true but the nuance of a disorder that has many different symptoms and manifestations on a scale was completely lost in this sea of negative information (and a lot of it misinformation). I saw people talk about their ex-partners as if everyone with the disorder was the same and the person was not just an asshole. I sat back and thought about how I was probably a total mess and would never get anywhere ever – just like I had kinda thought anyway.
I can’t speak for everyone with BPD. I can only speak for myself but the way it manifests itself with me may not be very obvious unless you’re very close to me. And if we’re honest, how close am I really ever going to let you? I mean I’m a bit of a contradiction. I crave intimacy but have a hard time dealing with it. My mood can change quite suddenly multiple times a day. I bend over backwards to make people happy but if you piss me off I’ll cut you off without a second thought. I could sit down with you and share personal details in a genuine and friendly way but still, wait for you to fuck me over. I feel everything in extremes from love to anger to sadness and I have tried to keep it all contained which is exhausting. I’m perpetually bored or listless and have no idea what I want out of life. I find it hard to focus. I end up in dodgy situations because I blindly assume things.  I alternate between insomnia and oversleeping.  I deliberately self-sabotage things.  If I don’t like feeling something I distract myself with damaging or dangerous vices. I feel like I seem needy when half the time I just want to be left on my own. I panic. I feel like I have no skin and I’m stupidly sensitive. I chain smoke and stare into space a lot. I break up with people before they inevitably break up with me. I have extremely poor impulse control (although this is getting better). I get irrationally angry when I feel someone is trying to control me. I would never really say it but I crave validation (ooops!) and a compliment makes me glow like after you eat Readybrek.  I react quickly to things and regret my decisions. A lot of the time I feel like I have zero control over anything or myself. I get overwhelmed when I’m stressed and can’t function.  I feel misunderstood and a complete lack of support.  And sometimes I wish I just didn’t exist.
The things I’ve read have pointed towards a link between BPD and abuse. It is actually much more likely that someone with this condition will lead to someone with BPD ending up in an abusive relationship, or hurting themselves. A high percentage of people with BPD have eating disorders, self-harm and attempt, and often commit, suicide. Over the course of my life, without going into too much detail, some of these things have happened. I’m not sad about it. I don’t know any different and I have peaks and troughs with it. I’m not looking for pity but I’m sick of seeing so much misinformation. I can honestly say that I was a bit of a bastard until I was in my twenties when suddenly I copped on (Oscar had a lot to do with that) and have strived to make myself better, regardless of not knowing what was wrong with me.  But it’s still there and probably to an extent always will be.
The more independent I became, the stronger and more confident I was. But it’s hard to tell where I begin and this ends, whilst trying to maintain the idea that ‘this does not define me’ in my head. I feel so much and I don’t know whether there are parts of me that exist separate to it or not. I get goosebumps from music. I cry looking at cute animals. I love people so fucking deeply. I genuinely care about things. I enjoy sex sooo much. I write and draw with my feels. I’m honest and enthusiastic. I am a good partner most of the time. When you’re happy, I’m happy for you. But still, I feel pathetic. I mean this blog is me oversharing. The negatives and reading all these opinions on the matter, which are hard sometimes to differentiate from facts, mostly point to me being a complete dickhead.

Am I a dickhead? Tell me I’m good. Tell me I’m good.
Clem (Kate Winslet) in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (I really like her in this) and Tiffany Maxwell (Jennifer Lawrence)  in Silver Linings Playbook are both really accurate and identifiable characters depicting BPD in films. Clem particularly struck a chord with me but there isn’t a whole of bunch of them that aren’t lazy and stereotypical and make people with it look like stalkers or murderers or whatever – and I’m pretty sure I haven’t murdered anyone yet. Anakin Skywalker in the last two of the series has been thought of as a sufferer, which I find amusing to be honest, but I think the evil has gone too far there. Apparently, he does display some of the symptoms but I can’t stand his shit acting long enough to think about it. Fatal Attraction is probably the most famous of all of them, with the auld ‘bunny boiler’ but this just adds to the bolloxology and stereotypes associated with BPD.
It’s not helpful to tell people who you think they are without a fucking qualification. It’s not helpful when someone confides in you to more exercise. It’s not helpful to judge people or tell them that they’re ‘looking for attention’. It’s really not helpful to tell someone who is trying to improve themselves that they can’t. It’s annoying as fuck, as well as wrong, to tell someone they’re being dramatic when perhaps you’ve been the asshole and they have no metaphorical fucking skin to protect themselves. I don’t think anyone with this disorder fucking chose it. I think this works with many disorders and mental health issues where people are so quick to dismiss them. I’m not making excuses for my bad behaviour and I wouldn’t do that. I’m not blaming anyone else. It is what it is but people should really get their head around it not being a choice, offer an ear and educate themselves with proper resources.  The symptoms and variations aren’t applicable to everyone in every case and it doesn’t make us bad people and in many cases, we’re trying to improve ourselves and handle things as best we can.

 

Nov
17

I know nobody probably cares anyway but there are loads of things I just don’t get.  I just don’t understand and can’t get my head around.  And maybe I’m being a judgemental dick.  Who knows, eh?  Or maybe, just maybe, these are just completely alien concepts to me.  The posts have been serious and the internet is filled with darkness so I thought I’d try to lighten the mood somewhat before my posts get even more super serial.

 

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So here goes:

  1. Non-alcoholic beer
  2. People making people dance at large social gatherings
  3. Couples putting their hands into back pockets on each other’s jeans
  4. Crotchless knickers
  5. Men making a point of saying they get off on giving women pleasure like it’s a fucking novelty or badge of honour
  6. Crocs
  7. Seinfeld
  8. The way make-up companies have yet to invent an eyeshadow that has an unbreakable lid on it, so as to avoid it exploding in your bag.
  9. People repeatedly pressing buttons on lifts and pedestrian crossings as if that will make anything happen faster.
  10. Fake tan.
  11. People repeating the same phrase over and over despite you not understanding it like you’ll suddenly get what they’re saying.
  12. How Nickelback are famous.
  13. People getting angry with you for you getting angry with them.
  14. How you’re supposed to be able to afford to live in Dublin.
  15. People who kiss with their eyes open.
  16. Why people give out to parents or give them scaldy looks when their children are crying.
  17. The concept of a soulmate.
  18. Why you’d do higher level maths for your Leaving Cert if you didn’t need it specifically.
  19. Gerry Ryan’s career.
  20. How many people think abortion is wrong but the morning after pill is OK.  Most pro-life rhetoric to be honest.  Or anything that includes a ‘grey area’.
  21. People who crap more than once a day.
  22. Vajazzling
  23. Socks and sandals
  24. The phrase ‘Monday week.’
  25. How that wall across the road from me was actually on fire one Halloween.
  26. A ‘nice’ family dinner.
  27. Why men don’t get more paternity leave.
  28. People being close to their grandparents.
  29. Inception.
  30. People sticking their tongues into ears in a ‘sexy’ way.
  31. How to dance
  32. How people can play instruments and remember so much stuff.
  33. Where people find the time for effective hair removal.
  34. Making promises you can’t keep.
  35. How to be sexy.  Even saying the word is so cringe.
  36. When people think they are as qualified as a doctor or psychologist to make a diagnosis.
  37. Why Murder She Wrote doesn’t have a bigger following.
  38. That light and sound move at different speeds.
  39. What catcalling ever achieved.
  40. Why people are either obsessed with or hate gingers and there doesn’t seem to be an in between.
  41. Why people get so angry calling somebody out on an unintentional remark, instead of simply correcting them and moving on.
  42. Soya milk in a hot beverage.
  43. Mushrooms.
  44. The appeal of cocaine.
  45. People actively being narky in the morning over the age of 20 because nobody likes getting up but cop on and stop taking it out on everyone else.
  46. Non-applicator tampons
  47. Why reality TV is the majority of programming these days.
  48. The fact that a walk in body and hair dryer has not been invented yet.
  49. Adam Sandler’s career after Happy Gilmore.
  50. Musicals.
  51. People not getting that you don’t want any more kids (or kids at all – too late whaaa!).
  52. Why Irish doctors don’t take pain seriously
  53. Anyone under the age of 25.
  54. Mindfulness
  55. How body positivity is conflated with ‘promoting obesity.’
  56. Buying chopped up vegetables.
  57. Unnecessary abbreviations.
  58. Foucault
  59. ‘Networking’
  60. Why people do that stupid duck beak thing with Pringles.
  61. What a tracker mortgage is.
  62. How addiction is a ‘disease’.
  63. Sun holidays.
  64. What ‘dabbing’ is.
  65. Not owning your mistakes.
  66. How the concept of ‘privilege’ makes people mad hostile.
  67. Comment sections of everything.
  68. How people don’t get we should be critical of everything and that critcising something that is generally a good thing is viewed as an attack – everything needs to be improved constantly!
  69. How other people function and get on with their lives.
  70. Why mental health issues are still stigmatised.
  71. Mean people.
  72. Houseshares.
  73. A world without hugs.
  74. Why it’s worse for a woman to piss in public.
  75. Why I always get caught pissing in public.

So as you can see I live my life in complete confusion.

Toodle pips.

 

Nov
10

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We all know that we like problematic things and that not everything is black and white.  Sometimes, it’s hard to tell if satire is proper satire or actually just punching down.  Sometimes, it seems vague enough to appeal to those on either side of the binary of good vs. evil and leaves everyone comfortable enough with their own views.

But what about when artists are confirmed as being complete dickheads?  What about when people whose work we loved actually are confirmed as predatory, creepy, unsavoury or just downright evil?  What about when it is clear that a celebrity or artist that we hold dear has actually done something terrible?  How can we reconcile that?

There are two major things that I consider here when I think about feeling disappointed and sometimes angry, particularly in this wake of sexual harassment and assault outings, about people, mostly men, standing accused of all these things.  The first is that being a celebrity is about creating a persona, a public image and projecting a marketable product into the real world – we don’t know them, we never will and what we see of them is hardly the truth.  Secondly, most celebrities live in a world that is completely distinct and separate to ours, where with money and power (and yeah a lot of the time a cock) you can do whatever the fuck you want.  Whatever. You.  Want.  Not that that is an excuse of any sort – but can literally imagine the possibilities of this and the new set of rules that apply to these people.

I have found people problematic before (Jesus Christ even in real life – when have I not found people problematic) in what they’ve said and alluded to, but literally everything people say these days can be taken out of context.  We are allowed to disagree with people on their opinions.  We are allowed to be disappointed that someone is racist or sexist or whatever, and I think that is much more clean cut.  I think in this instance, I can separate someone’s attitude or words from their artistry – again this is dependent on the level of what they said but actions on the other hand, or putting those thinly masked ideologies into action is a totally different ballgame.  To be fair, with the exception of a few bands I never ever read interviews because inevitably something will come up, or there will be some controversy or something will sully my interaction with what I enjoy that they produce.

What bothers me is the fact that there is a load of men I who slept with children (mostly little girls) during the 70’s and 80’s and that this was and still is considered kinda OK.  I mean I would’ve quite liked David Bowie and I mean I still watch Labyrinth but it just kinda freaks me out.  If I could properly separate the artist from the actions – this wouldn’t be an issue.  But I literally can’t.  Perhaps, initially I’ve thought it was OK but when I look back at 14-year-old me with a 20-year-old boyfriend now, I can’t help but think about what a creepy and abusive dynamic that was.  I don’t understand how many of those musicians who did this and it was publicly known as excused from it – even with ‘everybody was doing it at the time’ to counter it.  I don’t care what the legal age was at the time – I don’t care whether the girls were willing – they were still children, and they weren’t children fucking other children – they were fucking adults.  There is legitimately no excuse for this unless the life expectancy of a person during this period was 20.  End of.

I’ll be honest I’m weirded out by the Johnny Depp thing too.  Mostly by the fact that people just didn’t really want to believe that he would do such a thing.  It’s been proven.  He settled.  Amber Heard did the right thing and there is still evidence surfacing to prove he did do it.  I find it ridiculous that no matter what she did people, both men and women, just didn’t want to hear anything said against their precious Johnny, even with so much refuting it.  Look people, resolve how you feel about him being guilty yourself, but he is guilty and you go to in these situations should not be to look for fault with the victim, mostly because she is unknown.  Believe people, especially when they have evidence and don’t hold celebrities up as infallible gods. They’re all human, with loads of money and ego – so if anything they have the potential to be WAY worse than us normies.  Johnny doesn’t well with me now, but I know I’ve forgiven people in my own life for worse things as well – so this whole thing confuses the fuck out of me.  Edward Scissorhands will always be one of my favourite films but as long as I don’t think about Johnny Depp as a person I think I can still enjoy it.  The thing is I don’t know him but I think it’s weird that everyone keeps forgetting what he’s pretty publicly done.  So, I’m not sure that I can enjoy him anymore and probably won’t support his work financially in the future.

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Mel Gibson is soooo problematic as well but man he directs a great film.  I’ve decided that I do not want to contribute to his wealth though and ‘borrow’ his films.  I can enjoy his films as long as I don’t think about what he’s done and said.  I can live with that.  To be honest, though I’d rather not be told that he directed a film I just watched until afterwards, but I’m definitely not paying for it.   I cannot support someone openly being abusive and hurt others.  I will not maintain their horrible destructive lifestyle by providing them with the funds to do so (no matter how minimal) And I can’t erase all the Lethal Weapon films from my childhood, and to be honest, I don’t want to.

Crystal Castles have also come to light in this respect as well – one of my favourite bands – where Ethan who is 10 years older than Alice – allegedly abused her for years.  The two are adamant that the other is wrong, and whilst I do tend to believe her more, it’s kinda tainted all the lovely music that they made together – to know that potentially abuse was a serious backdrop to their music.  I will continue to listen to them, but without her, in the band, I don’t like them as much, because that was a part of my life that I do not want to remove – although it is slightly tinged with sadness.  And the thing is even though they are both fighting now – I would rather neither of them was right because the shit Alice described was horrible.

Anyway, with all the Weinstein shit that has come to the surface over the last while I was just trying to wrap my head around all these allegations and then figure out how I can reconcile how I feel with actually being able to watch anything ever again.  Everyone knew this about Weinstein, it seemed, but the thing is because he’s a gross looking man it seems easier to demonise him.  It gets more complicated when it’s a good looking talented artist – like many of the other constant names that are getting flung up – and people start to think that they can defend them.  This was all ignored before this Weinstein thing and the shift and onslaught have been glorious to watch – but it’s all so sudden and way worse than I had hoped.  I wonder how this will end.  Are there any nice normal famous menz?  Will Charlie Day, Joseph Gordon-Levitt and Adam Driver be pricks too?  What if there is literally nobody who is innocent? I really hope I can continue to watch TV without saying ‘rapist’ in my head 20 times, but seriously, that’ll really ruin my TV enjoyment.  I mean will they continue to get work?  I mean Charlie Sheen still gets work, right?  After all the shit he’s done.

So in a nutshell, if someone still gets work despite being a dick I stop financially supporting them even if I do like their art.  However, if they bother me that much I possibly won’t be able to enjoy their stuff anymore.  Sometimes, I can look back on the nostalgia that they offered me but mostly it is tainted.  I cannot erase their impact on my formative years though, nor do I want to.  I guess the question isn’t really whether it’s OK to separate art from the artist, but whether you actually can.  Look, I know there are more important things to consider than this tiny aspect – but I feel it needs to be looked at a bit.  I don’t have the answers though – I’m just talking about how I deal with it.

 

Oct
17

shoes

 

 

This post is probably going to land me in load of shit, but hey, I’m a woman on the internet so I can’t win anyway, right?  So fuck it – I might as well go all out, eh?

Anyway I’ve been thinking about the whole #metoo thing and I’ve come to the conclusion that it is actually a great and positive thing, no matter how hurtful or horrible it seems.  If you find yourself rolling your eyes going ‘goddamn we know’, ‘notallmen’, ‘feminazis’ or ‘what about when it happens to men’ I’m just going to be clear here – FUCK YOU!  Firstly, if you roll your eyes you don’t know because if you did that wouldn’t be your first response – how dare you discount the lived experience of a huge section of the population, perhaps because it makes you uncomfortable.  Yeah, being quiet has worked really well for enacting any kind of change.  Yeah, we also know it’s not all men but it’s enough that it makes our reality very different to yours, and if you’re not actively trying to shut down this misogynistic behaviour and calling your peers out, despite not actively taking part in this behaviour, cop on and be a good ally without expecting a cookie for human decency.  Yeah, we know it happens to men too, and yes that is shit as well, but it’s different and this isn’t about you.  Instead of bringing it up to derail the focus of the argument, how about you go sort out something about it yourselves and no doubt all the feminists will be supportive and listen to you then.

The purpose of the whole #metoo thing is to remove the stigma and shame surrounding sexual assault and harassment that women experience.  Women are constantly told to shut up about their experiences and not taken seriously.  I can tell you this from my own experiences (some of which I will list later) and from the experiences of others.  It is a difficult thing for us to talk about when the shame is so ingrained in us and our society and rapists, harassers and stalkers are removed from the equation leaving the onus on us.  We are expected to take groping as a compliment and catcalling as flattering – not intimidating or frightening.  We are expected to be quiet and take it.  The people rolling their eyes at this hashtag are saying as much as well.  Not that there is any shame in not sharing your experiences either – it’s not up to anybody to do this – but when people do do it people should listen and learn and not yet again tell women that their experiences are inconvenient and unimportant.  It is endemic and perhaps people don’t realise how much this is the case because it doesn’t directly affect them.  When we do talk we’re questioned and often left in a situation where no matter what we did we are at fault – ‘how much did you drink?’, ‘what were you wearing?’ and ‘where you not flattered?’, our arguments are derailed and we are made feel ashamed for what was done to us – so please take this on board, be quiet and try to be better people.

The onus should not have to be on us to bring this up.  Men shouldn’t be pulling this crap, but as we know entitled fuckers will just do this anyway.  They will never own up to their shit, so I am asking you now to look for toxic behaviour in your circles and tell people they are wrong.  We all know men listen to men more so just fucking do it.

For the women here I’m opening this up more than the hashtag, not to ‘play the victim’ because I’m not but to stand up and show I’m not ashamed of what other people have decided to do to me.  It’s a strange feeling when your body is no longer yours and becomes public property and you’re conditioned to feel scared or that you owe men things.  It’s terrible to have to hold car keys between your fingers walking through a group of men or ‘cover up’, and at this point in my life I’m pretty sure the next time it happens there will be a broken dick or bruised balls because my body is mine – not anyone else’s and I’m just angry now.  I am so fucking angry.

This is for everyone who has been told they ‘need a good dicking’, or received unsolicited dick pics, or were grabbed, groped poked or prodded.  For every lesbian that a man thought they could convert.  For every girl that had cried and decided against going to the police.  For anyone who has had their body taken away from them.  For anyone treated like an object to be dominated or treated like shit with no autonomy.  This is for my women who had been silence, intimidated, blamed and frightened.

Here is a list of some of my experiences which started very early in my life as I developed pretty young (bra at 9 or 10) to give you an idea.  I’ll spare details but it might be a bit upsetting.

 

Junkie hassled me for years on the bus from when I was about 10 blocking me into seats on the bus and asking me to marry him and whatnot.

My tits were grabbed outside my school when I was about 15 by some random boy.  I was asked ‘what did I do to make him do it’ and sent to counselling.  Nothing happened to him.

I was held firmly in position during sex when I was 15 despite my protests about it hurting until they finished the job.

Some asshole grabbed my arse when I was 19.  I told the bouncer.  Nothing happened.  In fact, I was laughed at.

Stared at by men when I was 10 when I wore little shorts that I liked because they made me think I was Sarah Conor in Terminator 2.

Vagina grabbed at some point each year since I was 15.

Erection rubbed off me in a pub at the bar when I was 23.  I couldn’t see who.

Man grabbed my arse when I was 28.  I chased him down the road and punched him.

A group of 4-5 guys aged between 18 and 23 had a bet on in work to see who’d fuck me. I was 17.

I was raped when I was 30 by someone I’d known and trusted for years.

When I was 18/19 a guy in my class in college stalked me, randomly turning up at places I worked, started fights on boyfriends and just generally made me very uncomfortable.

I recently received a series of around 20-30 anonymous phone calls in an hour from at least one man (I think there were more and I have a good idea who) in some kind of attempt to intimidate me.  They were lame and I guess of a sexual nature but they didn’t expect me to laugh and respond (I am a filthy bitch with a sailor’s mouth) or give them shit but I’m intrigued as to why my existence bothers them so much.

Repeated abusive and sexual messages to my business Facebook page.

Constant comments on my tits or the possibility of riding me.  Apparently these are compliments and my tattoos make me a ‘slut’.

When I was 31 I had to physically slap and push a man off me when I was drunk because he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer and force him out of my flat.

Masturbated at bus stop by a cliched man in trench coat when I was 19.

Heard men clearly rating my physical appearance when I walked past them.

Pinned against fence by multiple drunk men when I was 32 until I slagged them off so much that they let me go.

Anger from certain partners when I didn’t want to have sex.

Told my a boyfriend’s friend that they were masturbating thinking about me.  I was never apologised to but my boyfriend was.

 

I’m not sad.  I’m not a victim.  I’m not a mess or unstable because of this.  This is my reality and I’ve adapted accordingly!  I’m angry and I’m getting to the point where if these things happen any more the person who does them will be lucky to have a face left.  I’m not ashamed any more – you can’t shut me up.  Silence has perpetuated this crap that’s let you get away with this shit for years.  We shouldn’t feel ashamed for what other people have done to us – surely they should be the ones ashamed but our society has told us to ‘shut the fuck up’ implying it is our fault.  We can’t treat dehumanising behaviour as acceptable any more.  I’m not doing that any more and if my experience makes you uncomfortable so be it – I’m telling the truth for myself and many many others.  I don’t even know what these  ‘men’ got out of most of these situations either, but hey if intimidating people that are physically weaker than you helps you jack it in your own bed of tears – just go watch some porn instead.  And nice dudes, seriously tell them to cop on – it’s ridiculous we have to even have this #metoo tag, because we are getting angrier and slowly but surely we’ll take matters into our own hands.

Sep
24

img_0894What’s this you say?  Planning you say?  Not impulsively making rash decisions and lying in a pile of crackers in your pants on the bedrooms floor crying because you didn’t consider the consequences, you say?  Not sending incoherent angry drunk texts, you say? Not deliberately self sabotaging things or out trying to get a ride, you say?  You haven’t vomited in ages, you say? You’re not even really angry or scared, you say?  Learning from your mistakes, you say?  Is this actually Caroline?  What has happened?

Wellity wellity wellity….

The times they have changed haven’t they?  But I’m still a high functioning mess, perhaps because I only have one other person (the chisler) to focus on and I’ve done a bit of ‘soul searching’ (fucking ridiculous phrase).  And you know what?  I’ve had a eureka moment because in those awkward little moments of silence I’ve started to accept the way things are, the way I am and the way that I have a certain amount of power to change things. Yes, I’m still a mess and a moody bitch, but that isn’t my defining characteristic.  I’ve had so many engaging conversations over the last few weeks with amazing people and differing perspectives that I just had to share my thoughts on them and how these epiphanies could help me reshape my worldview for the better.

I’m still a sarcastic fucker though and that will never change.

These are the things that I’ve been pondering for the last few weeks, sober and provided me with some clarity as I reassemble my thoughts on things and move my life in a bit more of a solid direction on my own.  I’m still working on these though because it’s hard to shake patterns of a lifetime.

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These are my new rules and realisations for life.

 

  1. You are not obligated to be fun, interesting or happy at any given time if you don’t feel it. You do not owe anyone anything.  Being positive doesn’t fix everything – it ignores stuff. Sometimes you have to be super low to build yourself back up.  So be around people who are OK with this or on your own.
  2. If you keep doing the same shit over and over again – the same thing will happen – you big dope.
  3. Don’t sleep late. Get out of the bed you lazy bum.
  4. If people are shitty to other people they will be shitty to you.  People don’t change that much so watching people is a good way to gauge them.  In other words, if he’s robbing other people’s hash, he probably robbing yours or drinking your cans while you sleep.
  5. Share when you can and pay it forward not to get anything in return BUT (and this is my issue) remember who constantly has their hand out and never returns the favour even when you need it.
  6. People are mostly selfish.  I do believe that people there are some people who are rotten to the core, some who are lovely and some who are just OK.  Most people are just OK but sometimes good people do bad shit and bad people do good shit.
  7. There is no such thing as karma.  Get rid of that stupid idea.  If people are dicks eventually it will catch up on them because they’ll fuck with the wrong person – not because the universe has a way of fucking realigning itself.  Jesus, that’s just silly!
  8. When you really want something sit down and think about why.  Don’t just blindly run into a situation where you’re deliberately ignoring your gut or red flags for the sake of whatever it is you thought you wanted.
  9. Tell people you love them regularly.  Tell them why they are important to you.
  10. If bad shit happens, it’s not always a reflection on you.  Also, if the same bad shit continues to happen, have a look at why and if there is anything you can do to stop it repeating.
  11. Mistakes are for learning.  It’s not been a waste if you view it that way.
  12. You can’t fix people, no matter what you do for them.  Help and be honest and open all you want but you need to protect yourself sometimes.
  13. You deserve to be treated with respect.  After a point things people have said and done cannot be taken back.  Forgive all you want but don’t forget.
  14. If someone is regularly an asshole when they are intoxicated, they are the problem, not the substances that they are using.
  15. Some people are open to change, some people can’t.
  16. It doesn’t matter whether someone hurts you or purpose or by accident, if it keeps happening and they don’t learn.  It’s also not your fault for eventually reacting badly and washing your hands of it.
  17. If something is impairing your judgement – like alcohol, food, or a person – remove them from the equation, even temporarily.  See how you get on with it in your life and make better decisions.
  18. Keep toxic situations and relationships at arms length if they cannot be avoided.
  19. You don’t have to stick to a decision that isn’t working just because you feel like you’re a failure.
  20. Think more long to medium term than short term.
  21. Let go of anger – if you think about something from the past that makes you angry you clearly haven’t dealt with it properly.
  22. Don’t try to explain things to people who don’t want to listen.  Communication is a two way thing.  If someone isn’t sorry or willing to learn move on and stop trying to explain empathy to someone who doesn’t have it or care.
  23. Do not rely on anyone more than you have to.  They will let you down every time and anyway, everyone has their own stuff going on.img_0793
  24. You probably are attractive to someone somewhere.  As long as you smell OK, you’re probably not as unattractive as you feel.
  25. People show you who they are, they don’t tell you.  Have you ever heard an actual nice person say that they are nice?
  26. Stop making excuses for not doing things that you know would benefit you.
  27. If a conversation is taking on a dark or negative tone, move to a new or different location and change subject.
  28. Protect yourself and remember boundaries.  Even if they may seem like things you don’t want to stop in the moment.  There’s a reason your past self set these things up for you – so no, don’t invite that dude back to your house with a load of people when you have work in the morning – this won’t end well.  Also, don’t spend a whole night moaning at people or confessing private stuff unless you totally trust them.
  29. If you are scared of something you might need to try it out.  I’ve done this recently and it worked out OK.  I was nervous and took control of the situation.  Now I am not scared any more.  Clearly, I don’t mean bungee jump or anal, but you know something that you are scared of but wished you could master.
  30. The world is a shitty scary place, but I’ve decided that instead of trying to change that fact, which will always be a fact, that I should change how I react and have attempted to build myself up to prevent it from having a massive impact on me.

 

Now, I still do a lot of stupid things, and I probably always will.  I appreciate any of the friendship and support that I’ve experienced over the course of my life.  I just want everyone to know it’s a two-way street and I’m not saying I’m a guru or anything (just had a packet of crisps for breakfast) but I’m here a lot of the time if anyone ever needs me.

Now onwards, until I get cranky next week and write a completely contradictory blog.

 

Sep
19

By Caroline Egan

Published in Phoenix Ink 5 2016

kid-illustration2Illustration by Olly Cunningham

Every night they came.  Their little feet pattering gently on the laminate flooring, their tiny cold hands pulling at the end of his bed sheets and their barely audible whispers.  Every night he pretended to be asleep, covering his blue eyes with his hands, his knuckles whitening, hidden in the sticky heat of his thick bed spread.  He knew what they looked like, but, because seeing was believing, he had rathered not to reconfirm their existence.

If I can’t see you it means you’re not real.

Frozen in that same position every night, his pulse throbbing in his head, the boy often wondered what they had wanted.  He tried to work through the situation as logically as any eight-year-old could.  The fear he felt, that paralysing sense of powerlessness, took over every time, refusing to fade.  His shivering body would not allow his mind to process thought as little fingers mauled the duvet inches from his arms.

If I can’t see you, you can’t see me.

Three weeks ago he had thought that his eyes were playing tricks on him.  The shadows often had a way of morphing into fearful unknown creatures or concealing the cause of a suspicious sound.  He had been convinced in the initial stages that it must be mice, possibly even rats, when he had heard the rustle and patter in the depths of his dark bedroom and felt the presence of a ball roll eerily across the floor towards his bed. It was only when he heard the indistinct whispers, the indecipherable meandering of a mad person on a mission, that he knew he could not deny his situation.

If I can’t hear you then you’re not here.

Despite his usual overwhelming terror the boy had plotted tiredly throughout the day.  His teacher had commented to his mother recently that he had been falling asleep in class.  His school work had ,been deteriorating and he had developed dark circles under his eyes.  The youthful glow of his face had been extinguished and replaced with the countenance of a war veteran that had seen too much.  Even now, being a kid, he knew that this had to change. It had to end regardless of the consequence, and so, he devised a crude plan to make this a reality.

If I amn’t here you can’t get me.

He encountered one face to face in his narrow upstairs landing returning from the toilet, its silhouette stretching out in the pale moonlight from behind.  It was a greyish brown colour and lacked expression, standing less than a foot tall in height.  It blocked his passage with its narrow limbs and mimicked his every move.  Like a plastic doll with gangly limbs its face was featureless bar its black eyes which blinked sporadically.  It had no visible mouth, or nose, or ears, yet somehow regarded him menacingly.  He froze to the spot and again it adapted his pose.  It darted and dodged fluidly, never changing expression, its two toed feet tapping on the wood floor, until he ran back to the bathroom and locked himself in.  The gentle scratching sound of the blunt nailess fingers followed a few minutes later.

If you can’t touch me this isn’t happening.

Now curled up in a tight foetal position the boy fingered a small object under his pillow.  He would deal with this himself.  Nobody would believe him. Grown-ups were pointless to talk to about it.  He would never prove their existence, especially considering his recent odd behaviour, and even his brother at the age of eleven was closer to adulthood and their beliefs than he was.  The whispering began to rise, as he contemplated this, and a newer stronger wave of fear climbed from the pit of his stomach upward, throwing his thoughts out of sync.  Nobody else in the house could hear their terrifying malevolence either.  They didn’t even have mouths, so how could they whisper?  Those horrible menacing thoughts.  Mocking and planning…teasing and taunting…

If I don’t think about it they will go away.

He had woken up on the bathroom floor the next morning, cold and sticky with puffy eyelids and a crust of dry drool on one side of his chin.  The brightness of the room had stung his eyes and as he ran his hands through his wild blonde hair the nights’ events began to replay in his mind.  He wondered what they were.  They seemed too artificial to be real: they were more man made than anything, like a deformed doll with no pupils.  He wondered where they came from and what they wanted. He could come to no solid conclusion but he knew that it was unlikely to be good.

I’m in a happy place!

Sometimes the he had woken up feeling bruises throb on his arms and legs but when he looked for them he couldn’t find them.  He knew it had something to do with the creatures but there was nothing to see.  So he decided to draw around where the pain was on his arm in pen to see what shape it was because he was a clever boy.  His crudely traced drawing depicted something unsettling.  It clearly showed the shape of a tiny hand, about the size of a golf ball.  It seemed more as the result of a gentle touch as opposed to a slap, as if the creature had just put their hand on him.  His body paralysed as he considered what this meant.   When had they touched him?!  Why hadn’t he felt it?!  Why were they doing this?!

If you don’t see me then you’re not real!

The boy rose slowly from the bed holding the matches tightly in his hands.  It was nearly dawn and the room would start to become grey with dim light. They only came out in the darkness. He squeezed his eyes shut and inched his way across the bed.  He knew his room so well that even in the dark he would be able to negotiate his way to the wardrobe and not need to open his eyes until the last minute.  A silence hushed the room, no more whispering, no more movement, just the sound of the boy’s breathing as he could feel all their eyes following him.  He lowered himself down to the floor, feeling its coldness beneath his feet, and continued as if approaching a wild animal.  No sudden movements, no obviously malicious behaviour and he thought he could pull it off.

If I’m careful they won’t know.

He head realised where they slept that very day, whilst tiredly cleaning his room.  It appeared that behind his wardrobe they had made an entrance to a cave that was confined to a section inside his wall.  When his favourite marble had rolled behind it he pulled it out from the wall and noticed a bedding of rags and hay covering where they slept.  Being young and exhausted he pondered this all day before coming up with the simple plan of burning their next.  He had to carefully execute a plan to even obtain the matches by distracting his mother in the kitchen to steal them. He even robbed fire lighters to ensure that everything would go up in flames.

Fire, fire, burning bright.

He bent down to retrieve the fire lighters and felt cold fingers, gently, almost affectionately stroke his arm.  He refused to open his eyes.  The wicked things would surely try to confuse him their steady gazes, and lunge on him.  He fumbled loosely for each of them, until he had his small hand full. He slowly opened his eyes but did not look around.  Trembling he lit a match, aware of the semi-circle of stares that surrounded him.  As he approached the first firelighter with the match he felt something move to his left – one of the creatures shook its head gently as if to say ‘no’, the flame dancing in its eyes, basked in the pale and short lived light.

The match extinguished and so flustered the boy lit another.

He felt the circle grow tighter around him and anticipation choked in his throat. He could feel their movements not too far away, the air moving from their gentle motions.

He lit the second match clumsily and as he did a rumbling like a cat’s purr began.  The light of the match revealed that the creatures had teeth in their camouflaged mouths, rows denser than that of a shark.  During this his fingertips are burned but he cannot stop himself staring into the dark.

Eventually he drops the match, its searing pain eventually taking its toll in his fingers, and darkness.

The mouths had been wide open by the time the match went out, just enough to frighten the little boy.

He suddenly wondered what his mother was doing…  He wished that she was with him…

He slid his hand into the matchbox to start again, holding his breathe.

When his shaking fingers eventually lit the match it was only just long enough to see the creatures diving on him. He was suddenly pulled to the floor by tens of tiny hands, amidst a sound akin to the low beginnings of an earthquake and dragged swiftly through the hole in the wall, a scream barely making its way out of his mouth.

 

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