This is not for you

Date night with myself featuring Nanna nightie, Sims 3, scented candle and ABC news. And by golly Im having fun.

I’m withdrawing from something which for years has charged through the wires of my brain and realigned its connections. I think its one of the worst feelings Ive ever had, between the nausea, dizziness and irritability I feel like my bad chemicals are taking me for a ride again. There is this thing refereed to as “brain shivers”, “brain zaps” or “cranial zings” and essentially its like a tiny bolt of lighting passing from one side of the brain to the other and all you can do is blink, shake your head and wonder what the fuck just happened. I know it will only last a few weeks and I remind myself of that every few hours. But fuck, I just want to feel like myself again.

Well its been a while but this day will always be one of my toughest for the year. The words don’t feel right anymore because Ive spent so much energy trying to undermine my own right to feel any of this. But there were twelve months at least where I did little other than try and put the words into similes like no one had before and write a story for those who mightn’t ever learn the words. Ive gotten to the point now where I only ever try and remember the things I learned from the people I use to know, and your lessons were the most stunning. From someone so young I was taught almost everything I will ever need to know about patience, understanding,  love and how all the mysteries in the world can erupt and explain themselves in a mostly toothless smile.

I’m at work listening to Billie Holiday giving customers who threaten to break my train of thought with questions regarding the ingredients and hydrating properties of a particular hand cream, an all too enthusiastic smile which hints at a sale spiel and pushy attempts to up sell a matching $150 face cream. It shuts them up and I’m left alone to revel in the bubbly and sunny rainbow of love and affection exploding through my chest and stomach. There’s fucking colour everywhere and and my hearts maybe enjoying a lollipop or some shit. Im obviously pretty bad at explaining positive feelings, because I’ve never found it necessary to write much about the good things. Just having them is enough. But I’ll write like hell once it’s gone. In the mean time I’m going to enjoy whatever carnival is making fairy-floss in my belly and how it feels to stir in the middle of the night and be kissed on the shoulders by the lightest sleeper on earth and that my favorite place Ive ever been is just inside a hug, and…fuck, this is not my style, but I’m one smitten cunt.

AND BY DISEASE I MEAN THE GENETIC STRUCTURE OF AWESOMENESS.

There are so many things I don’t know for sure anymore. Like who was wrong or right in the end or how love winded up in the bitter places it has come to rest. These friendships deserved a better eulogy and a better epitaph, but more than anything they deserved the understanding vital to keeping them alive. I don’t know if this is me mourning or fighting like hell to find a cure. Somewhere in between there is a disease and it’s probably mine.

For the last four years my life has consistently fallen apart between November and December. Christmas has always been a hard time in terms of my mental health and relationships. November 2011 dealt quite a few blows and sent me into a pretty bad place from which I though I might never leave. But right now, two days before Christmas I feel as happy as I can ever remember. I cant wait to spend time with my family and shower them with gifts which attempts to express how sorry I am for worrying them the way I do. I cant wait to celebrate all the wonderful things I have in my life and the people who have stuck by me. I have so much to be thankful for and for the first time in years, Christmas feels like a time of joy. So in summary, happy birthday Jesus you sly son of a bitch.