But life IS scary for me

[Simona]

Being alive is like being inside a pinball machine and now and then someone comes along and try to give it a good tilt.   

Like the new car sitting in the driveway that I'm too scared to drive.  Partner and his parents don't understand. They keep checking in on me like I'm mentally disabled "So have you gone for a drive yet"?  they ask gently     NO. I want the old car back because it was a machine not a computer. Except I'm trapped here in the desert and need to drive into nearest town for supplies. For anything.

This is a rant now. Living in the country is not what I imagined it would be.  If I had a horse to ride I'd be happier somewhat but..i'm bored with the scenery & lack of things to do.  I'm bored of collecting insects/arachnids now and lost interest in photography. And all the locals (men mostly )congregate at the pub and drink beer and talk about crops/their health issues or small town gossip. I went in there and spied so I know.   Or the very old people rake leaves seemingly.....till early evening.    Just depresses me.   You grow old.  Rake leaves. Or make Jam.

Not me!!! I don't belong here : / I want to go places - Brazil in particular. I  want to visit Mt Corcovado and just stand in the shadow of Christ The Redeemer wearing my arait's and a nice summery white cotton dress.     I'm not meant for here but partner says we are not moving because his business is here and 'chugging along nicely'.   

*Further more and yet on another topic*

I can't believe I am unable to continue writing my so called novel.   It's like 4 years in the making now and I pulled out the manifesto yesterday and thought:   who the hell wrote all this?   And how am I supposed to finish it?  what drugs do I need to be on?  Where is this person? Which brings me to worry that I don't know who I am and maybe I have another personality I left somewhere...like a missing sock.

[Simona]

re-edit

"Life CAN be scary but loss of control is scarier"


Past couple of weeks has been an absolute rollercoaster.  The circus came and mid through show a water bottle was dropped.  Since it had rolled closer to partner's seat the answer to my dilemma was glaringly simple and obvious.

ME:  Well?   Pick it up!

partner: no

ME:   I said PICK IT UP !

partner:  and I said no. you pick it up

ME (eyes locked for missile launch):  

I HATE YOU 

The clowns meanwhile continued their pathetic spectacle that couldn't even be classed as slapstick comedy. I could have done SO much better with the garden hose.  I sat in absolute disgust seething on my own venom. I couldn't get my head around it.   I had to pick up the bottle myself : /   That's 1 point for him and 0 for me.

And then I spotted who i thought to be an intellectually handicapped person in the row ahead.  He couldn't give a damn about the show. He was playing with his own fingers and appeared to be having a great time smiling to himself.  I, on the other hand was rabid in the head and wondered if i am to ever find some kind of similar peace.  When for once i could just stop spinning on my back like a downed blowfly.  Seemingly always writhing like the sacrificial worm on the hook.

The mania. The gnawing indecisiveness.  I change my clothes up to 3 times a day like my hairstyle because i can't make up my mind. Clothes all over the bed. Chaos.  At my worst i feel like that rabid dog Cujo - the scene in which he can't decide whether to dig his way into the car or get at the ringing phone. 

And lastly i didn't even go to my class last week because...

I DIDN'T FEEL LIKE THE SAME PERSON

[Guest_1055]

Hi Simona

I was wondering how you were going this week? I just wanted to say hi and that I missed seeing you here on the forums.

Shelley anne xxx

[Simona]

Well my appointment is coming up soon and I'm all churned up about it.   Writing here is one thing but talking in real-time is another.  

I don't like being asked anything much.  How I feel is a perfect example.   I don't like talking about feelings or emotions. It's a claustrophobic subject for me. Feelings.   Feelings complicate things and creates mess. I like solid lines. I'm a straight shooter

The drugs

Because what will happen if pharma clamps my creative vein.   Who will I be then? What will I write about?  Will i see the world differently and if so, will i be a better person for it?    Like realistic and reasonable the two R's that make me think of the word  'mediocre' or the colours beige and brown.

I have a fair idea of what i may be afflicted with but it begins with the same letter as my trigger story and that is either another coincidence or an OMEN

I can't decide which yet

[Simona]

Good Evening Shelley anne  : )

Thank-you for thinking of me.   I haven't been all that well in the head department. Lack of sleep for one thing and slow internet speed is the other.

In a time frame of approx 10-12 minutes last night i was up 4 times.  Up and down.  Most nights I'm up every 2 hrs.  Now i can tell you no amount of make-up can cover that seediness.   

And so that's when my  black hoodie comes in:  i pull it over my head even in 30 odd degrees and team it with my el cheapo $30 servo sunglasses.  And presto instant 'Suss'. Wear it into Safeway or Coles. I tell you this; no-one will try to engage with you.  You will be left alone.  I do this when I'm especially inwards and sleep deprived BUT never at night.   I think only once in a  supermarket at dusk because of the bright lights.

I think everyone should have at least 1 hoodie for emergency

Love,

Simona