A dream / I really mean that

where I will look at my hands.

I am now scared to look at them.
I think it's easier to simply realise I will be dreaming, without needing to see the hands becoming some sort of scary animal. Or see them becoming really weird.

May the night bring advice and guidance.

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Other blog of that day:

you could do it and have a nice clean page

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A clean page to start it all again?
I feel so disturbed I can't even explain or write properly.
Today has been difficult, as most cranial seminars are. And then this problem with him that I live with, I didn't reply to his text thinking it was good not to and have space. At the end of the day, I felt obliged to because I felt he would feel unloved.
So I did in an anodine way asked if he needed something from the shop. He replied with the deadly phrase "We don't need anything"
as in...Me and him don't need anything more.

I hate him saying "we" when he talks about our situation of living in the hosue together. To me, when he says it, it is like "me and her, that woman that I cherish and want to marry or not or love or not" but this me and her thing is unbearable... I fucking hate it when he says "we" talking about him and me, in front of a friend I either fancy or I am going out with. I hate it because it's like going back at school and having camps of people, some are in it and some are outside it. And he is in the one where I am in.
Or I am in his.

And I dont want any of this "We" stuff. I don't belong to him, he doesn't belong to me, I may like him but it is not love and I am not going there and I get over crowded with his words of love and care and concern.
I don't want all this eternal, everlasting expression of how wonderful I am or how lovely I am and how much I mean to him and how much he loves me. I don't mind once every 3 weeks say, because then it means somehting. To hear it day after day, nearly everytime he sees me, is just too much and I have had enough of that!
So when he said "We", I just exploded on a text. I thought that I would say what I feel and I felt it is unappropriate to use the term "We" when he talks about the house, me, and him. He would have said "no, there are most things here, there's no need for anything" would have been fine.
But "We don't need anything" is just NOT FINE.
HOW DOES HE DARE TALKING IN MY NAME ALL THE TIME?

SO I said piss off, in a text back, saying jokingly that he said We and I didnt like it and I was now sulking and piss off, and straight away sent him another one saying "I am not sulking anymore, now don't say that again please. "
He replied really upset, and from what started as a neutral conversation of me trying to make an effort towards him to be sociable (when i should just work for myself and not worry about him) turned into this added drama to my fucking day which had had enough drama like that!

I went back home and didnt reply to his text of "are you back home soon, I am going out to the gig soon". Wanting to avoid him, I left one bus stop too late. On the way back, I was having really depressed thoughts.
I dont knwo what s happening right now, but those very dark thoughts seem to be coming like Tesco's grow in the high street at the moment.
I have been thinking of death. Of dying. Of killing myself. And then I wonder why do I think that. Somewhere, I know there is some attention seeking in wanting to be found dead. But there is a lot of trouble for the people finding that out.
I look around london and the people; all banging into each other, myself keeping saying sorry everytime I caress someone with my bag in the bus; eating sugar and chocolate.
Life is starting to feel like a due; but also like something which can be ended quite abruptly. And when I think about that, I start crying.
But I just cant see how the future can hold anything for me. Why would I have the right to exist anyway?
I hardly have the right to breathe. And I still feel like a prey to men in the street. Or even friends.
I wonder why I should be living. London is so dark. So much negativity hangs around here. The Mews are like an area of rif-rafs; everyone hiding behind their closed curtains and blinds. A city of deads.
Of nobody homes.

And I think of my life; of my using the family money in order to live, because of this illigitimate job I am doing isn't bringing enough; I have my tax to pay soon and don't have the money for it; and I am not complaining about the rent but Robert is having a really hard time to get any work; and he is so stressed out about that and when he is stressed out he becomes even more affectionate and loving, which really becomes an issue for me. I don't want someone that loving in my life. It's suffocating.
And then shit happens like him saying "We" and I flare up.

I wished I could stop thinking about death. Anyway, there is no good way to do it, what if I missed myself and ended up disabled or something. That would be terrible. But I feel like I am looking for something which will wake me up.
Sometimes I think of accidents. Getting run over by a car. Or getting pregnant. I am not sure what is worse.
I have such negative thoughts passing my head. I think of my father and the love I was never able to express towards him, and I am just waiting for him to die because I haven't got the courage to confront him and feel happy in his presence; or talk to him. It is just not this sort of relationship. And now, I am spending his money, which is not legitimate of me. I feel so guilty.
It would be ok if I was loving towards him, towards them.
If I could go back home and say what I thought; if when I was there I could be myself and BE A HUMAN but when I go there I just get depressed and want to hide in a corner, and when I stay too long like at xmas, I just wish I could terminate my life in some way; because this life, and being there with them, feels so so bad.

I shouldn't, I know, ever in my life, have such thoughts.
I feel a bit like parasited. But I don't see any future.
I want to be ill, I keep thinking about cancer and wondering if I have caught one like my mother had, to her breast...They are especially tender at the moment.
I wonder why I am alive. What is the point living like this?
Making people like Robert suffer for saying his love? Keeping having this paranoia all day long about various people I have to be around of? Having to be in a group and doing the same thing than everybody else?
Not being able to express myself, not being able to say what I feel, what I want to say; not being able to tell a fellow student when his touch is getting too hard on me and it becomes uncomfrotable, I just bear it. Not being able to talk to Michael, the course tutor; but keeping feeling paranoid about him disliking me because I am a problem.
Because I do not want to be in the group and I feel so separate, so alien, so unwell, so unable to speak and say anything.
And I keep disliking some of the students. I dislike that girl for being so spy like and so "knife in the wound" and always after me; I avoid her. The other one because she disturbs me, she is eating sweets, chocolate, anything, all course long and proposing it around her; and then she asks questions, layed on her binbag like in front of a tv screen. She disturbs me so much in how much she eats; and she is obviously on some sort of coeliac disease diet. And she is so friendly and I can't stand overfriendly-overly affectionate people; they do piss me off. Just because I can't be like them because I am too shy.
And then there is that tall one who annoys me because she is so rigid and always asks annoying questions. And then there is all the others I am paranoid of. I keep judging everyone and I suffer from that. Because I am such hard judge of myself through them...and then I get paranoid. because I judge so much myself! So I think everyone does the same!

I am so against this course; all I am doing is refusing to be part of it; refusing to listen, refusing to follow what is being said, at times. I am there to refuse and feel uncomfortable. I enjoy this role. I feel like a teenager and feels stupidly like I am assessing myself.

I keep going through crisis at this place and I keep needing to speak to Fatima who never really gets to speak to me as she is too busy.
I have a problem mentally which has got stronger lately, and I do suspect returning to a free diet with dairy, sugar, wheat and refined products is the cause of my mental state at the moment. Though, it was only just about stable before.

I want to disappear so they can remember me. BEcause when I am here, I am transparent. So at least, I would be sort of more present if I wasn't here.
But it s such a silly way, I know, to do so.
I don't think I ll ever be able to do it anyway. I am too weak.

I wish I could get some help but nobody takes it seriously. How often have I heard "it s in your head! Just get on with life!" in the past when I had problems and I coudln't deal with?
Nowadays when I talk with Robert, it's a lot of encouragement I hear; because he really believes in me, somehow. I don't know why. Because if I had something special and a talent, I would be making my life from it, and would be blossomed. Or at least would have an idea.
He encourages me too much; sometimes i feel guilty to have such thoughts. He wonders why i should have such thoughts anyway as I am so young and I am pretty enough so should really have something to look forward to.
But all I am looking forward to, is knowing I will become older and more ill than I am now; and my body will deteriorate because I hate exercice and don't do any and eat lots of shit and possibly will develop quite a few diseases my family had.
If I am in a better mood, I imagine the future as with some sort of husband and some sort of children which would have come out of my human body; and the thought of that makes me run even further. Now there is no point to life in doing this. This is just repeating all the ancestry stuff. Why reproducing and having children? To give them what world? This polluted one? From this polluted body which is having lots of deathlike thoughts?
And me to be a fucking housewife? Oyh yes, how muc I would have liked to be trapped in all this when younger; or even now. And then I could really have something to be desolate about, because I would be totally trapped. Maybe it s because I have choice that I want to take a shortcut. Which I will never take because I am not strong enough and too scared of hurting myself.

Ask for help? Where? I could ask my father, he'd get all worried. I want to ask Marc but I fear he is going to say how stupid I am to have deathful thoughts and I should rather do my studies instead of waste time on this. He may look at me and say I am just stupid and he thought I was more clever than that and he is disappointed in me. And he woudln't want to help me because he wouldn't want to acknoledge that I don't really want to be alive. Or do I? Do I want this life?
All this suffering which I feel is yet to come? All those wars and destruction and hate towards each other and most of all, fear and insecurity?
Maybe my adrenals are just fucked up, but fear is the main subject in my life. I heard it is most people's.
I can't stand this fear. Just find me a sect, any sect, so I can join it and we can all do communal chicken courtyard with aunt running after each other.
Or give them all this money that I am spending and have no rights towards which I am wasting anyway, at least they would use it wisely, I am sure.
Shit, I have ark thoughts and don't know what to do about them.
Maybe I should write to Marc.
I have nobody else to talk to except my blog, and I do not want the pitty. Even though I write about alll that, pitty is just stupid and doesn't help. "you will be ok" fuck off ! Yes, of course I will survive if it s what I chose, to stay here!
Vegetate and then die and then realise I had wasted a lifetime. That I was destined to greater things than just dying of a car crash at 31.
Or getting runover by a bus in Matalan.
Yesterday I nearly got ranover. Shit. When I am in those states, I am not so attentive at whats' around and it tends to attract shits...negativity attracts more of itself.

My throat is all swollen.
I dont know what to do with myself.
I suppose the best is to go and eat something sensible not involving too much sugar or chocolate if possible, and try to get a night sleep, without harming myself too much in the way by using foods.
I don't know what I deserve.
I feel it is not much.
I feel I deserve to be punished. Continuously.
For my sin of being alive.
And taking oxigen, plants and animals.
And not being able to experience love because my heart is so shut off; the people I wanted to open to didn't want of it. The ones I don't want to give it to want it.
And there are others in between that I am unsure about.
Oh well.
And I have period pains as well.
Tomorrow is last day of cranial.
MAybe I ll manage to go through it without finding too much paranoia to feed my brain. Maybe Fatima will make me cry like last time and will shake off all this shit stuff I feel inside myself.
If we are all going through this, then why should I get help anyway. The others are more important. They make more noise.

org 19/04/08