A New Beginning...?

Last night my dad came in the room while I was talking to Joey and Hab. He said that he had found my blog and that he was worried about me and was I ok? I'm obviously not ok. It was a relief to be honest that he'd found out, and he and my mum were very good, just wanted to know why I hadn't told them before. We talked for a long time about work and money and stuff, and what the doctor had said etc. It made me feel a lot better for a while.
Unfortunately I didn't sleep at all last night, and I mean AT ALL. I finally gave up trying at 6am, then had to get up and do a days work. Mum had suggested talking to someone at work about how depressed I've been, so I thought I'd give it a go and try talking to Joan.
I guess she is from the generation that doesn't believe in depression. She kept asking me why I was miserable, apparently no one under the age of forty is allowed to be miserable. Of course, having only worked in the Co-op for forty odd years she wouldn't understand the feeling of underachievement I have, and the fact I feel like I've wasted the last few years of my life in a pointless job, because that 'pointless job' is all she has done with her whole life. I didn't tell her all that, no good upsetting one of your superiors by telling her she's wasted her life doing nothing. I think Bob might have been more understnding, because he seems to have more idea of what I'm thinking.
I'm still awake tho, and I'm now at Pete's watching the Running Man between writing this...

Fading in and Out

I spent last night at Pete's. We had a nice evening lazing about watching a Kingdom Hospital DVD that his mum had bought. I have to say as a little aside, that Kingdom Hospital is a very, very odd program indeed. I mean apart from a giant anteater called Antipus, a headless corpse trying to find it's head, a little girl called Mary who is dead and wanders around the hospital ringing her bell when someone dies, and various apparently crazy hospital staff who sing quite a lot, it's just like any NHS hospital really. Screen play by steven King. Oh and several of his books have appeared in shot being read by people...self advertising..tsk.
I got back from Pete's about 20 minutes ago, after standing in the pouring rain waiting for a bus for 40 minutes. The 72 was early so I missed it, just, and then the 272 was 10 minutes late.
I'm not in a great mood. I have been asleep for most of the day, got up late, and then went to sleep on the couch again. When I haven't been asleep, I was watching mindless american trash on the telly. Wasn't in a particularly communicative mood. Nor a particularly happy one either. I don't mean to make Pete sad, I just don't seem to have the energy to be happy. I am going around there tomorrow again. Making the most of his mum being away. Even tho I'm not happy I do feel better being around there with him. Just wish I could show it better.

:::sigh:::

Think I may have upset Pete. Haven't heard from him all day, and my phone is being a twat and not sending bloody messages! Feel like smashing the useless fucking thing sometimes.
If I have upset you Pete, I'm sorry.
Not right in the head at the moment.
Even more than usual I mean.

nothing left to say

Don't know why I'm writing this, got nothing to say really. I suppose it's just something to do instead of sitting in my room staring at the walls. The tears of last night have given me a sore eye, all red and bloodshot... heh. Is about right for the way today has gone really. Got myself a pseudo-stalker at the gym, followed me round talking at me for half an hour. I went after work, more as something to do to get me out of the house, than for any particular desire to make myself fit. They said when I got there that they had charged me the wrong rate when I joined, and that I owe them £74, I need to pay it asap. I'm kinda pissed off about it, cos I signed the document to say I'd pay so much and now they're trying to take more off me...Don't know where I stand on whether I have to pay it when it was their mistake and not mine. Need to find out soon tho. At least it gave me something to be pissed about, been kinda numb today, felt like I wanted to cry at one point, but there were no tears to come. The only time I've felt anything was when a customer said 'smile, it can't be that bad'. It made me angry. I know he was only trying to be nice, but with respect, what the FUCK does he know about me or my life? Nothing, thats what. He comes in a couple of times a week and sees my face, I serve him, take his money and he fucks off again, he doesn't know me aside from what I look like, he doesn't know what is happening in my life..for all he knows, my entire family might have been killed in a freak accident. It's unlikely, granted, but possible. So how the fuck can he generalise that 'it can't be that bad'?
I'm over reacting aren't I? I am, I know I am, but I can't seem to stop, it's either over reacting or nothing today I'm afraid.
And I have to work early tomorrow because we're getting new tills (woo hoo) next week, and bob, joan and brian are on a course so they can teach us how to use them. That should be fun. I guess I'll be on checkouts all fucking day again, like today and yesterday, and, oh surprise! The day before too. Can't wait til Jean gets back so I can get off the bastard checkouts for five fucking minutes. I'm swearing too much, is the kind of mood I'm in tonight, don't want to talk to anyone, and my mum has been wittering at me about Caroline's mother again, I've heard it all before, I agree with most of it, but lets face it, my mum is like I am (god forbid), she says she will do this and that and say this and that but she never will. And ending my ear about it doesn't do any good, cos I'm certainly not going to take on caroline's mum and risk alienating caroline and Chris. Her mother is an interfering old busybody tho, and doesn't seem to want to leave her kids alone to live their own lives. Mum's theory is that it was for this reason that Caroline's first husband fucked off and left her for another woman. Huge leaps of logic there, but it's possible it could have been a contributing factor.
Shit, she has me doing it now. Gonna shut up and go to bed I think. Maybe some sleep will improve my mood. Hah, maybe it won't.

Doctor, doctor, I feel a little down in the mouth....

...Here is a leaflet about counselling, stop taking the pills and come see me next week for some other pills then.
Which is pretty much what Dr Hare said this morning when I went to see her. She seemed to agree with my thoughts that the pills weren't working as they should and gave me three options...increase the dose, leave it for a while as it was, or stop them and start something new next week. I wasn't sure, but I felt that the Dothiepin wasn't really helping that much.
So I have an appointment to see her next week and she will try me on something else. Don't know what yet, but if whatever it is helps, then it can only be good.
The counselling I am not at all sure about, but I din't have the energy to argue with her about it, I'm going to go when I get the appointment, it might help, but I find it difficult talking to people I know about the shit that goes on in my head, never mind a stranger. I will give it a go tho.
She also suggested I should talk to my family about how I'm feeling. I don't know, I've never really found it easy to talk to my mum and dad, I used to alk to my brother a bit, but he has moved out now and I hardly see him, my mum hogs him whenever he comes round, plus he has enough to worry about what with wedding plans and money troubles. I kinda miss the fact that he's not there tho. Oh my god, that brought tears to my eyes, I'm crying because I miss my brother. Never thought I'd do that. Dammit I need a tissue I can't see the screen.
Going to the doctor made me a bit thoughtful and down, it's like when I go, I have to think about it and confront it...normally I can hide from it, tho not very well, but talking to the doctor brings it all to the surface. Despite that I've been quite cheerful this afternoon and evening. Until now. Can't seem to stop the tears. I have another week of this until I see the doctor again. Oh shit.

yesterday, today and tomorrow.

Yesterday was bad, last night was bad, this morning went as I predicted, the alarm went off, and I rolled over and went back to sleep. Strangely when I di get up I felt better in myself than I have for a while, I even managed to smile and joke with some of the customers. I guess getting all that shit off my chest yesterday helped a lot.
Tomorrow is the doctors in the morning, then another late shift in work. Today I had to get a taxi home cos chris's car was knackered, he usually gives me a lift at least to morton where I can get a bus. It was part of the deal when I said I'd do nights, that I'd only do them if I could get a lift from work to the bus stop because buses from hoylake only run on the hour, and I miss the 8pm one by the time I get out. Joan said I'll probably be able to claim the taxi money back from the co op as expenses. I hope so, cos if I can't I'm not doing the late tomorrow, I cannot afford to get taxis home every night til chris's car is fixed, which is going to be a while because he says he needs a new gasket (?) and it's going to cost him £300. Ouch.
Anyway, we'll see. Today was better than yesterday, and I'm hoping tomorrow will be better again.

awakenings

Each day I wake up, and I look around my room with my bleary eyes, at the crap all over the floor, and the fish swimming in their tank, and I think 'Dear God, another day.' This is not good. It is not right. I don't want to be here, at this point in my life, wishing that I was sixteen again and going into a crappy office job. When I was sixteen I had some dreams, I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, but I was sure that I would do quite well for myself whatever I decided on. Actually that isn't true, I had no confidence in myself even then, primary school made sure of that...when you're told you're not up to standard nearly every day for seven years it kinda makes you start to believe it...but I digress. Somehow I always hoped that I'd get good results, and go to sixth form..I was going to do art at sixth form and biology and geology. My dad soon persuaded me that art didn't fit with that and that I'd be better doing chemistry. I might have done better at art, but I digress yet again...Once in sixth form I was determined to do well enough to go to university, and lo and behold I did. And look where I am now. Working at the Co-op for £5 an hour, six days a week. Not quite what I had imagined when I was in school. I feel it wasn't quite what my parents had imagined either. I can still see the look of pride on my dad's face when I got to university, and at my graduation. I was the first Hunt to go to university and get a degree. I got a 2.2. I wasn't that happy with it, but I guess I never should have started the degree in the first place, my heart wasn't really in it. I didn't fit in, even with my group of friends, and certainly not with the super-fit, super trendy 'It' people. The best time I had on that course was doing my dissertation field work...On my own, no one to answer to but myself...it was bliss. And I think that is the crux of it...I have never been good at working in a team, I can't seem to get the balance right...I either end up as the person that takes over and makes a huge cock up of everything and everybody ends up hating, or I sit in the back ground and let people boss me around. Bob says that about me, although he puts it more nicely 'I don't let him down' he says, 'I can always be depended on' Yes, depended on to do all the little jobs that no one else wants to do, the dirty jobs, I let people take advantage of my inability to say no. 'Kate can you come in and do all these extra hours for me?' Yes of course I can. 'Kate can you stand on checkouts for 9 hours with out complaint?' Yes of course I can. 'Kate if I go home early so I can laze around doing nothing for the rest of the day, can you cover my hours for me?' Yes of course I can 'Kate will you be my doormat please?' Yes of course, just wipe your boots on my face.
:::sigh::: I sound bitter. I know I do. If I thought anyone would employ me, I would hand in my notice right now, do what Pete has done, give up work and hope and pray that something turns up soon. Pete will find something, he has relative experience, an employable personality and the confidence to walk into a room and sell himself, and the added bonus of being able to get on with everyone and fit in with any group of people. I can't do that, if I chucked in work, I'd be in serious trouble. And being afraid of people doesn't help.
Ah fuck, I don't know what kind of point I'm trying to make with all this. to be honest, I feel like the last 8 years of my life have been a complete waste of time, energy and money..education and job wise I mean, some parts I wouldn't change for the world, like Pete, and my mates, but aside from those, if you look at my life since I left sixth form, all I have done is run up some tidy sums in student debts, and ended up with a degree that is next to useless, being unemployable and stuck in a stupid pointless job. All I know is retail, and I'm not even any good at that...I could get away with being crap at it in Sainsbury's, the team was bigger so I was lost in it, but working in a tiny little co-op, I stick out like a sore thumb as being the trailing member of the team. The one that lags behind that everyone else has to support. Actually, that is not entirely true, that is the blackest picture. There are certain jobs that I do that are important...it's not that no one else could do them, just that they are jobs allocated to me. Code checking on a sunday, reducing stuff that is going out of date in the week, faxing off the sales figures. My jobs. Jobs to make me feel useful, except that they don't really, if I wasn't there the jobs would still get done, someone would check the dates and reduce the goods and fax off the figures. I am probably the most expendable person on the team.
Jesus, I wish I hadn't started this now, I should be in bed trying to sleep, but instead I'm wittering on, making my life sound like a complete waste of time. But it isn't, I know it isn't, I just need to find a focus for my energy (whats left of it). And I have said all this before I know..'need to be focused'...'need to get out of the rut'...'need to do something'...etc etc etc, blah blah blah.
Thing is it is far easier said than done, motivation is far more easily lost than found, I need some time, but time is always running out.
Heh, I am quite surprised that I'm not crying yet. Normally by this point in my self deprecating thought processes I am in tears, but in actual fact, this time I'm kinda sick of my own whinging, angry with myself that I can't seem to fight the apathy. Anger is good, anger can lead to action, CAN lead to action...but I know myself all too well, I'm fuming now, but come the morning, my alarm will go off and I will switch it off, turn over and go back to sleep, turning my back on the promises I make to myself tonight, the tasks that I intend to attempt will be cast aside and I will feel like I have let myself down again, as I do every morning when I look in the mirror and see my face, guilty eyes staring back at me.
Fuck. I'm a drama queen. I am. Melodramatic, over reacting, stuck record, kinda pathetic.
Fuck fuck fuck
I want to stand in the middle of a field in the middle of nowhere and scream and scream and scream til my throat hurts from screaming and then scream a bit more til I physically can't do it anymore. I want to smash shit. Thats a bad sign, sometimes when I want to smash shit and can't because of living with my mum and dad and stuff, I try and find another way of releasing the fucked up anger and tension, like hurting people, but the only person I hurt is me, either by thought or by blade.
Ah shit. Sometimes I hate myself. Sometimes I really do detest myself. I don't want to post this, but I will, because it is the truth, it is honest and it is what is in my head right now.
The urge to hurt is fading, like the frequent urges I get to buy cigarettes and smoke do. It's an addiction, but it's one I can resist most of the time. I think I am getting better at it.
You will all think I'm crazy after this. I think I'm crazy sometimes, if I was one of my friends I'd be concerned about me after reading all this crap, but that's not my intention, I don't want worry or pity or anything. I just needed to get stuff off my chest and well, I'm crap at actually talking about stuff..Pete knows that for sure. This thing is like free therapy. I can shout at it and talk about anything because it's inanimate, it won't get hurt. I guess it's kinda selfish saying all this when I know people are going to read it and be worried about it, but I look at it this way...If I'm writing this fucked up nonsense on here, I'm not keeping it locked in my head where it could do more damage...I mean you wouldn't want to open the paper tomorrow and find I'd walked onto a packed train with a machine gun and killed everyone on it would you? (Not that I would, machine guns are too difficult to get hold of, and kinda hard to smuggle through station security)
I have drivelled enough. Time to sleep, perchance to dream.
And tomorrow I will wake up, remember all this crap and die of mortification, I know myself.

cat noises (in answer to Pete's question on his blog)

MIAOW.

successes (if only little ones)

I did it, I went to the gym after work and I've just written my list of people I need to buy presents for, haven't quite sorted out what I'm going to buy them yet, but I'll sort that out later. God, not too much later tho because christmas is creeping up upon us really fast. Only one pay day left and then I'm skint for another year.
But anyway, I feel kinda proud of myself that I did two of the little tasks I set myself yesterday. I know they are only really little things, but the little things build up into big things. I really do need to clear the crap out of my room and do some of the washing thats sitting in a heap on my floor, so that will be a task for tomorrow, along with getting up early and finding a hit man to deal with my mother. Sorry that was a joke, but she is doing my nut tonight.

Ok, so tomorrows little tasks...
1. Tidy my room.
2. Get up early ie before 9
3. Spend at least an hour trawling the internet for Jobs (we'll move onto the job centre when I feel a bit more comfortable around people.

I mean don't get me wrong, I'm not getting all agoraphobic again like I was a few years back, having panic attacks and shit just leaving the house, and near hysterics whenever I was forced into a crowded place, I'm just a bit nervy in places I don't know when there's lots of people about. It will get better.

I have a doctors appointment on wednesday. I can't remember if I mentioned that or not. Wednesday was the earliest one I could get, I run out of pills on tuesday night, see what the doctor says about getting more. I'm not too sure, I don't know if they are helping or not, now at this moment I am ok, but last week, well you know how I was if you've been reading this. I'll talk to Dr Hare and tell her what I have been like.

Ah well

:::Sigh::: Well, one out ofthree isn't bad. I didn't get up before nine, and I didn't get my christmas list written, but I did go to the gym. Tommorrows targets are kinda similar...
1. Go to the gym after work (harder than going on a saturday cos I really don't feel like it after working all day)
2. Write the list of people and presents that I was supposed to write today.
3. Clear some of the crap from my room.

On a lighter note, I've just got back from Phils house where we spent a few hours watching Desperado and John Carpenters Vampires. Desperado was good, Vampires was dreadful in an oh my god that is so stupid kind of way. It was good to see phil again, and it wasted an evening in a very pleasant fashion.

Strange feelings

I am a lot better today. I didn't cry once, which can only be a good thing, and I feel strangely cheerful. I have decided to give myself three targets per day. I will write them down on here and let you know how I get on with them.
So here are tomorrows targets:

1. I will get up before 9
2. I Will go to the gym
3. I will write a list of people I need to get christmas presents for and work out what I am going to get them (I have been putting this off for a while I hate writing christmas lists)

That is a start. I know they are only little things, but I need to start off small, "From little acorns..." and all that. Heh, I've just been reminded of a film I saw ages ago, can't remember what it was called but it was about a psychiatrist who invited one of his patients to live with him and ended up going crazy himself and trying to kill the patient because he was so infuriating. The psychiatrist had written a book called 'Baby Steps' basically saying take one small step at a time and you will eventually will get where you want to be. The theory is a sound one, even if it didn't quite work in the film. I wish I could remember the name of the film, it was a comedy. The patient was called Bob I think???

PMS

I am putting yesterday's extra specially miserable day down to PMS. Sometimes I hate my body. It certainly hates me...with a vengeance. My back currently feels like I have an alien trying to escape through it, and I had to go out and buy a bumper sized pack of elephant sized tampons. Oh and I feel like a bloated fat ugly thing. But apart from that I'm great. Guys you don't know you're born sometimes.

stuff

I have this kinda 'whats the point?' mentality at the moment. Kinda, whats the point in getting out of bed? Whats the point in applying for jobs, I'm not going to get an interview? Whats the point in going to work? Whats the point in doing anything?
I'm still going to work, tho the customers keep telling me to smile and even Bob has noticed that I'm not myself. In fact aside from Pete and the Doctor, he's the only person that I see on any regular basis, that has noticed I'm down. He asked me what was wrong with me the other day, said he didn't like seeing me miserable. I know I moan about Bob quite a lot, but he's not so bad, can be quite good at times.
It has to be said that I'm more cheerful than I was before. I got home from work, after waiting ages for the bus, went upstairs and just cried. I'm sick and tired of my life, and this crappy feeling, like I'm helpless and so fucking miserable I can't think straight. Sometimes I think I'd be better off dead. Except that I wouldn't, couldn't be that selfish. There's Pete, Chris, Phil and Charley, Hab, Joey, Jack, my mum and Dad, My brother and Caroline... all people who care about me and who I love. When I'm so down that I start thinking stupid thoughts, I see all these people in my head and I realise I don't hate my life that much.
There's a lot that I want to do... See my brother get married, see my scribbles in print, be happy, have a decent job where I can afford to have a house and a garden, read as much as I can... so much, and I know that if I can just get past this nasty, miserable blip, that I can do all that. I can be happy, I know it, deep down. It's just my mind doesn't believe me right now.

The wanderer returns

I'm back, although I didn't do much wandering apart from trying to get from the hotel to Hard rock Cafe, a walk that should have taken 5 - 10 mins and actually took 45. Not my fault incidentally, Hab has no sense of direction lol.
It was good fun tho, good to see old sci fi regulars again and meet a few others face to face, that I hadn't met before. Was quite impressed with myself that I managed the whole weekend without imbibing a single drop of alcohol, and still managed to enjoy myself and not get too depressed. The black cloud that had been bugging me all week had dispersed somewhat when I woke on friday morning, I guess I just had too much logistical stuff to think about and the excitement I'd been feeling about going to Manchester came back with a vengeance. Jack sent me a text telling me to enjoy myself and get wasted for him because he couldn't go, and I managed to achieve 50% of the instruction.
The sci fi crowd are a bunch of lovely lovely people and I think everyone had a good time, Pete certainly did, he seems to have this ability to fit in with anyone, and was chatting away and taking the piss like he'd known them all for years, some of them he'd only met once and most he'd only met this time round. I am more reserved. I don't think I am in real life, as I am in the chat room...Pete fits in anywhere, I tend to feel out of place, even if I'm with people I have known for years (except with my closest friends). I guess I am just one of nature's outsiders, which says more about me that the people around me - You get out of a situation what you put into it, and I find it difficult to be 'naturally' garrulous. A 'Sister Loquacious' I am not.
But I had a really good time anyway, sometimes sitting and observing can be more fun than joining in, especially when surrounded by people who are gradually getting drunker and making complete fools of themselves LOL. Oh and I got to see Joeys newly pierced nipples too - and very sexy they were! Almost makes me want to get one of mine done...Almost. Well, we'll see.
At the moment I am feeling a little ambiguous in how I feel, I can be quite happy one minute and quite down the next, depends what I'm thinking about. I realised when I got in that I hardly spoke to Pete at all on the train home. I'll put that down to tiredness, cos I am completely shattered and need to be in bed. I'm going to leave going to sleep until a bit later tho, cos otherwise I will sleep and wake up later then won't be able to sleep tonight. I am intending to go to the gym tomorrow morning, but as I said that every day last week and didn't go once I'm not holding my breath. I really need to sort my head out, make a few positive decisions for a change and get myself on some sort of path.
Time to go now anyway, tea's ready and going cold... Might be back later, might not, we'll see.

Destructive Tendencies

The last two days have been bad. I can seem to shake off the misery I'm feeling. The slightest little thing sets me off and I can't cope any more. I woke up this morning and looked at my clock and thought 'why do I have to get up?' I just don't want to do anything, I don't want to go to work, I don't want to see anyone, I don't even want to be sitting here writing this. I am going to manchester tomorrow with pete to meet up with some of my internet friends, Hab, Joey, Lee, Fairy, Nitty and a few others (I'm not absolutely sure who is going), and I have been looking forward to it for ages, I've been really excited. But this week I can't even work up any enthusiasm for that, it's like all I can feel is this kinda numb sadness. I went to the pub with Pete tonight, and he took my lack of enthusiasm to mean that I didn't want him to go, he kept saying 'I don't have to go if you don't want me to.' I do want him there, I want him to meet Joey and Hab and Fairy and everyone, they are my friends, and I want Pete to get to know them. If Pete wasn't going I don't know if I would either. I don't think I'm up to the train on my own, I'm barely coping with the bus to work.

Dark Days and the light at the end of the tunnel

I drop like a stone
Into the dark
Falling swiftly, blindly down
A helpless, broken thing.
There is no end to this
No bottom to the pit
Created by a mind
So fragile, so bruised.
This is a cage,
A prison for the soul,
Trapped by bars of fear
And chained by manacles of tears.
The slightest word or deed
Destroys the walls of self esteem
And leaves me crawling
In the dark.


I wrote this in work today, so as you can see it has been a bad day. Work sucked as usual, but Pete persuaded me to go around to his after work and he made me tea and gave me a big hug, and we sat and watched the last half of The Fellowship of The Ring. Then he asked me if I was happy, and I thought, and I realised that while I wasn't ecstatic, and quite a long way from being properly, care-free-happy, I wasn't actually miserable anymore. Just the big hug he gave me when I got there cheered me up and made me feel better.
So, thank you Pete, I love you, you are amazing...xxxx.

Falling Apart

Today I felt like I had fallen into a pit with no hope of being rescued, a deep, steep, slippery, cold, wet hole. I was ok in the morning, same as yesterday really, not too happy, but not too sad either. I went to the doctor, told her I'd been feeling better, which I have been generally, and that I was sleeping better, which I have, except for saturday night, She asked me about work and whether I was looking for a better job etc. She actually seemed interested and concerned for my well being...You know how some doctors just want to get you in and out as quickly as possible and don't seem to really care what's wrong with you, they just want to write you a prescription and then get the next patient in? Dr Hare is not like that, she's human. She said I seemed like an intelligent person, and that I should be doing more than what I am doing at the moment, she was really nice, and suggested I do a computer course to help me get somewhere. I am considering that, but you no what I am like, no motivation, and it's so difficult to be motivated when I feel like shit. I'll get there eventually tho. Dr Hare also asked if I spoke to my family about how I'm feeling and what's happening. The answer to that is no. I don't know why, I never feel I can talk to my family about stuff like this, I suppose I kinda feel like I'm letting them down in some way, I know that sounds stupid, I know they love me whatever...My mum has always said that she doesn't care what I do as long as I am happy, but, well, the fact is, I've been depressed, on and off since I was 15 when my hormones really kicked in (and yes I do realise that I should have done something about it ages ago, but I didn't cos I'm stupid), and the thing is, that all that time, my family didn't notice how miserable I was. I'm not blaming them, maybe I'm a better actress than I thought I was. It was kind of shameful telling the doctor when she asked if any of my family had noticed that I'd been a bit down, that none of them had.
Anyway, She said that I should go back and see her again in a couple of weeks before my pills run out, and then take it from there, decide whether I need to stay on them for a while or come off them.
I left feeling ok, but it didn't last long. The rest of the day is kind of a daze. Like I was walking around in the dark. One of the customers asked me if I was in a bad mood again, and I just wanted to cry. Bob was asking me about Manchester and I was like 'yeah I'm just going to see some friends' like I couldn't work up any enthusiasm even for that and I am looking forward to it. Bob did manage to cheer me up a little by telling me that he had no friends...at least I do have friends, some very good friends who stick by me even when I'm miserable and whiney like I am now. He kept telling me to smile, this as he is leaving the shop to go home while I still have another hour of bloody checkouts to go.
Fortunately as I left work the bus turned up, which was good, cos in my frame of mind I'd have been crying my eyes out if I'd had to wait for ages in the cold at the bus stop. I did have a very mild panic attack on the bus, which isn't good, and then when I got home Mum had a go at me because I didn't want the stew she had made and I'd brought home a pizza from work. The stew was nasty anyway, usually she makes really good stew, but this one was tasteless and weird..I don't know, maybe it was me, she reckoned it was the same as she usually makes it. The pizza wasn't that nice either.
I hope tomorrow is better, I don't want another today.
On the plus side Bob is still saying I can have friday off, not sure if he knows Jean is off on friday too...will have to make sure because I don't want him ringing me on friday morning saying 'Kate can you come in please?'

Bad days and Good days

Yesterday was a goodish day. Went to the Gym in the morning which was fun, spent ages there so I felt really good about myself, and then for some inexplicable reason I plummetted. Was sitting in the cafe with my mum after coming out of the pool and I was just like, whats the point? I should have been on a high from all those exercise endorphins whizzing through my body, but it just didn't happen. I got home and phoned Pete, and we decided to go to the cinema. If I am honest, I wasn't really in the mood to start with, but lets face it, if I'm going to get better I need to make an effort to do stuff even when I don't feel like it, otherwise I'll just sit in the house all day doing fuck all and making myself worse. So I dragged myself out of the house and got on the bus. Pete was being grumpy cos the buses were bolloxed again and he'd had to wait half an hour for a bus thats supposed to be every 20 mins, Grumpy Pete and Depressed Kate don't make a very good combinataion, and then when we got to the Cinema I was trying to pay for food with my card, and the tills went down. I mean talk about a bad start. We eventually got to see the film, The Grudge. It is a truly evil, nasty, horrible film and me and Pete both hated it, except it was also really well done and very effective. I liked it, but I really didn't like it because it was so effective, creepy, nasty, just urrrgh...I'd recommend going to see it, but not if you're of a nervous disposition.
After we'd cringed and jumped our way through the film, we went to the pub. Met Charley's cousin. Kath in there and She told us that Charley was on his way cos it was his birthday. I had completely forgotten too. (Charley is a guy that I went to school with, right from Primary school all the way to sixth form...thats a hell of a long time ago now!). So we ended up spending the night in the pub with Charley and Kath and everyone. It was good, haven't seen Charley for a while and it was nice to catch up.
By the time I got home I was Knackered, and then I found I just couldn't sleep. My mind was whirling for ages, I hate that feeling, when you're so tired you can hardley keep your eyes open, yet when you close your eyes, all you can see is flashing images and stupid irrelevant thoughts flickering on the inside of your eyelids. I was so tired in the end I got upset, and eventually cried myself to sleep.
Today was ok, not feeling particularly happy, but not particularly sad either. Tired tho, very very tired.

sparklers

Bonfire night. Me and Pete decided that if a foreigner came to this country just for 5th November, and didn't know anything about bonfire night and Guy Fawkes, then they'd think they'd stepped into the middle of a war zone, or that we were weird.
I guess we are a little weird.
We spent the evening in the park and then in the pub, played with some sparklers for a bit and had a couple of drinks. It was fun, good to get out of the house, as respective parents are driving us up the wall. That is the nature of parents I suppose tho.

wobbly moments

I thought I was getting better. Then today I got all teary eyed because a customer was pissing me off being awkward and just generally irritating and I felt like I was back to square one. I went to the pub with Pete, and then for no apparent reason got all upset then too. After a few minutes I was ok again tho. I suppose thats better than I used to be. Before I was on the pills, I'd have been miserable all night, I actually feel quite happy now. Its like they give me the...I don't know, energy I suppose, to make an effort to stop being miserable. It was an almost conscious decision in the pub to stop being weepy and down because I could see that it was upsetting Pete, and there was no specific reason for it.
Ah well, I guess the pills can't make me happy all the time, it's just frustrating when I think I'm getting better and then it all seems to flood back all at once. I guess it's just a waiting game, it'll take time to adjust, after all I have only been on the pills for a week, this kind of thing is not going to get better overnight and I will just have to keep chipping away at it until I'm right again. One thing is ceratin tho, I do feel more hopeful and generally happier, and even tho I seem to be having an occasional lapse, the pills are helping, and that can only be a good sign!

The Scottish Widow

Me and Pete went to the Krazy House on saturday night for the Halloween all nighter. He went as James Dean...after the accident, and I just wore a big frock and cloak. I realised after I'd got there that I looked a lot like the Scottish Widow. It was a fairly good night, I had to leave early because of work, and it was just so crowded and hot in there. It seemed like a good idea at the time to wear the whole corset and big skirt ensemble, but I spent most of the night trying not to get my skirt trodden on and drinking water to try and cool down. Also I'm not allowed to drink alcohol because of the pills, and I'm trying to avoid the diet coke cos of the caffeine.
The pills seem to be working, apart from feeling odd the first couple of days they haven't affected me adversely, and I do seem happier in myself, Pete's noticed it and I've noticed it in the way I don't seem to get so down and overreactionary to stuff. I know it's early days yet, and this could just be a blip on the happiness scale and not to do with the pills at all, but I am feeling more hopeful about things now, better than I have felt for a while.

lol