I really feel as if my whole world has gone completely arse about face. Good things are bad, bad things are good, weird things are normal and normal things feel weird. I could go on, of course, but as I was taught as a child... try to say a little of your thoughts and then maybe have a little rest, while others have a few of theirs.
That gives me enough to be getting along with anyway.
Today, I went into town to buy some black trousers for my friend's funeral. It's odd that I didn't have any, as I always used to. I don't even know when I changed to blue jeans. A long time ago I guess. I've spent my days as a music-loving stranger-and-hairdresser/cutter-phobe punk. This means that I go to the gigs, I wear the t-shirts, but I have long poor quality hair and wear only jeans. I did wear black jeans for many years, but as I say, that must have changed.
Buying clothes is complex for me at the best of times. Few people are willing to accept how it works for me. Those that are, are my friends. If I buy something new, be it jeans, trainers, CD, book, top... anything... it has to sit in my house or my room for between 1 and 12 months until I can accept it as mine. It's not conscious, and it's not meant to be offensive. My boyfriend bought me a book and a CD for Christmas. I opened it and put it on the shelf in the sitting room. And there it has sat. I'm almost ready to bring it upstairs. And then I'll use them. I will buy a beautiful jacket and then wait a year to use it. It takes me so long to accept new things. Often I go out and people say 'oh, is that new?' and I say 'no'. I get home and think about it and actually, yes I've had it for several years, but I only started wearing it a few weeks ago. That's the way it is. And I don't mind. When I buy something I look forward to the time I'll feel confident enough to wear it out. It's not about how other people see me, it's about how I see myself. I have to be able to recognise myself in my own clothes, or I feel genuinely frightened. It would take a lot more to explain fully, but trust that I have spoken in depth to others, and this is a fair summary.
I thought it would be easy, but it wasn't. I don't know if it was a fear of lycra or reality, maybe both. I hate the feel of shiny black trousers. And I can't wear jeans to a funeral. Why don't they make them out of a material that's ok to wear? I went everywhere. I found things priced between £5 and £300. Quite honestly, I didn't care what I paid, so long as they were ok. And none of them were. Eventually I found a pair that were ok. Aim not to judge them on this next point, as it was very much promotional and you'd likely be fairly off the mark, but whilst queuing to pay for them, a lady apologised for keeping me waiting for so long and offered me a glass of champagne. This has never happened to me before. I said yes. As I walked out of the shop the champagne hit my brain, which said 'don't go home and study, go to the pub'. So I phoned a friend and went to the pub. On my way home from the pub I bought some beers and some wine and now I'm at home, with a pair of funeral trousers and an unnecessary amount of alcohol. Now, there's the first upside down and back-to-front thing. Normally I think that death is sad, but this time I don't. I'm happy she's dead because she was so unbearably ill. I miss her, terribly, but quite honestly, as she's not here, that's really just me, a selfish emotion in the non-negative sense. But her family... her daughter... now that hurts. A free glass of champagne would on any other day have made me jump for joy, but today it sent me straight back into a downward spiral. After Thursday night I told myself I would behave, and yesterday I did, but today... well I didn't plan for it to go this way.
The washing machine is a normal thing, and it feels weird. I don't understand it. I don't know it. I don't know how most people operate, but with every machine I've known I've had one set letter or number that I use for every wash. I don't mix and match. Usually a 40 degree normal length of time wash. This machine is really complicated, which is silly as it was quite literally chosen by being the cheapest and most heavily reduced (combined) option in the store. I've already used 2 settings and now I don't want to use it again. I don't want to have to read an instruction manual every time I need to wash some socks. I know, I know, I'll get used to it. But why am I so slow to get used to these things? How can my brain work so fast when I'm given a maths problem or a physics equation, or even the answers to the mind-games that were printed on the beermats in our local some time ago; then work so slowly when something important happens, or the physical aspects of my surroundings change.
I don't even feel unhappy, and somehow that makes it worse.
I'm wearing the trousers now. I know I have to wear them on Tuesday. I'm not at all ready to wear them. So I'll have to wear them a lot between now and then and look at them in mirrors a lot. I've still got to sort out a top half. I can't wear a punk t-shirt to this. And I have little else to offer.
It's temporary I believe, but real. I really don't want to do my studying. It's not procrastination. It's not thinking of excuses but ultimately knowing that I'll get it done. I don't care. And I really want to care again. For sure, I don't want to extend this study continuum by yet another year!
Everything is not as it seems
I really feel as if my whole world has gone completely arse about face. Good things are bad, bad things are good, weird things are normal and normal things feel weird. I could go on, of course, but as I was taught as a child... try to say a little of your thoughts and then maybe have a little rest, while others have a few of theirs.
That gives me enough to be getting along with anyway.
Today, I went into town to buy some black trousers for my friend's funeral. It's odd that I didn't have any, as I always used to. I don't even know when I changed to blue jeans. A long time ago I guess. I've spent my days as a music-loving stranger-and-hairdresser/cutter-phobe punk. This means that I go to the gigs, I wear the t-shirts, but I have long poor quality hair and wear only jeans. I did wear black jeans for many years, but as I say, that must have changed.
Buying clothes is complex for me at the best of times. Few people are willing to accept how it works for me. Those that are, are my friends. If I buy something new, be it jeans, trainers, CD, book, top... anything... it has to sit in my house or my room for between 1 and 12 months until I can accept it as mine. It's not conscious, and it's not meant to be offensive. My boyfriend bought me a book and a CD for Christmas. I opened it and put it on the shelf in the sitting room. And there it has sat. I'm almost ready to bring it upstairs. And then I'll use them. I will buy a beautiful jacket and then wait a year to use it. It takes me so long to accept new things. Often I go out and people say 'oh, is that new?' and I say 'no'. I get home and think about it and actually, yes I've had it for several years, but I only started wearing it a few weeks ago. That's the way it is. And I don't mind. When I buy something I look forward to the time I'll feel confident enough to wear it out. It's not about how other people see me, it's about how I see myself. I have to be able to recognise myself in my own clothes, or I feel genuinely frightened. It would take a lot more to explain fully, but trust that I have spoken in depth to others, and this is a fair summary.
I thought it would be easy, but it wasn't. I don't know if it was a fear of lycra or reality, maybe both. I hate the feel of shiny black trousers. And I can't wear jeans to a funeral. Why don't they make them out of a material that's ok to wear? I went everywhere. I found things priced between £5 and £300. Quite honestly, I didn't care what I paid, so long as they were ok. And none of them were. Eventually I found a pair that were ok. Aim not to judge them on this next point, as it was very much promotional and you'd likely be fairly off the mark, but whilst queuing to pay for them, a lady apologised for keeping me waiting for so long and offered me a glass of champagne. This has never happened to me before. I said yes. As I walked out of the shop the champagne hit my brain, which said 'don't go home and study, go to the pub'. So I phoned a friend and went to the pub. On my way home from the pub I bought some beers and some wine and now I'm at home, with a pair of funeral trousers and an unnecessary amount of alcohol. Now, there's the first upside down and back-to-front thing. Normally I think that death is sad, but this time I don't. I'm happy she's dead because she was so unbearably ill. I miss her, terribly, but quite honestly, as she's not here, that's really just me, a selfish emotion in the non-negative sense. But her family... her daughter... now that hurts. A free glass of champagne would on any other day have made me jump for joy, but today it sent me straight back into a downward spiral. After Thursday night I told myself I would behave, and yesterday I did, but today... well I didn't plan for it to go this way.
The washing machine is a normal thing, and it feels weird. I don't understand it. I don't know it. I don't know how most people operate, but with every machine I've known I've had one set letter or number that I use for every wash. I don't mix and match. Usually a 40 degree normal length of time wash. This machine is really complicated, which is silly as it was quite literally chosen by being the cheapest and most heavily reduced (combined) option in the store. I've already used 2 settings and now I don't want to use it again. I don't want to have to read an instruction manual every time I need to wash some socks. I know, I know, I'll get used to it. But why am I so slow to get used to these things? How can my brain work so fast when I'm given a maths problem or a physics equation, or even the answers to the mind-games that were printed on the beermats in our local some time ago; then work so slowly when something important happens, or the physical aspects of my surroundings change.
I don't even feel unhappy, and somehow that makes it worse.
I'm wearing the trousers now. I know I have to wear them on Tuesday. I'm not at all ready to wear them. So I'll have to wear them a lot between now and then and look at them in mirrors a lot. I've still got to sort out a top half. I can't wear a punk t-shirt to this. And I have little else to offer.
It's temporary I believe, but real. I really don't want to do my studying. It's not procrastination. It's not thinking of excuses but ultimately knowing that I'll get it done. I don't care. And I really want to care again. For sure, I don't want to extend this study continuum by yet another year!