| wash away the sound of all these sad days.'s Journal |
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wash away the sound of all these sad days.
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| mundane routine, i loathe thee. |
[Feb24'2007 10:23PM] |
How long I craved the normalacy of work and friends and dating and a calm, uncomplicated life.
Now I hate it with every fiber of my being.
Maybe I will never be happy with what I am, maybe I will never be able to make do with what I have. Maybe I will grow old and miserable and unfufilled.
Also, I am 24 years old now.
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[Dec13'2006 11:00PM] |
( and then some )
Oi. Much as I love Christmas, I can't wait for it to be over this year.
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[Nov22'2006 07:06AM] |
First kisses can be the most awkward, disgusting experiences, or they can be ridiculously beautiful.
So tonight I met him in the laundrymat next to the Money Mart where I work. Ten o'clock at night, we were the only ones there besides the owner in her office. See Right Through Me by Mobile was playing on the little portable radio in the corner. I was leaning against the dryer his clothes were tumbling in. We were talking about what Christmas morning was like when we were kids. There was this little lull in the conversation, but not like an awkward silence, just a natural break. I looked over at him and he was smiling a little, so I smiled back. And then it was like we shared a thought, he took a step forward and I shifted up to my toes and we kissed. And my stomach flipped. Then the buzzer went off on the dryer and the song on the radio changed to something horrible by Papa Roach and the moment was over but man, for that few seconds it was fucking amazing.
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[Nov09'2006 05:28AM] |
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I'm articulating words again, my peripheral vision is returning. I'm venturing out of my room, baby steps. Out of the room, into the hall, down the stairs, open the door, one foot out and then another. Every day it gets a little easier. Not worrying about money eliminates 75% of my anxiety, but now my brain is grasping for something else to fill up the empty space. Health seems to come in waves and fits, momentary epiphanies. I went to a play tonight, by myself, and didn't feel like the entire room was staring at me. It's a place to start.
I've been thinking about being seventeen and feeling light years ahead of my peers. I've been thinking about the way we would drive around aimlessly, blaring top 40 and smoking cigarettes stolen from someone's older brother's backpack. I felt myself coming unhinged back then, felt myself shrinking further and further into myself until I was a faded memory in other people's brains. I've spent a lot of time hating girls who were supposed to be closest to me for letting me slip away, but what could they have done? What could anyone have said? I'm learning to let go.
I can decide where to go from here. That may be the biggest lesson I've learned so far, in these twenty-three long/short years. I am the one who decides.
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[Oct14'2006 05:10PM] |
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I'm lucky enough to live on the other side of The Big Snow, so while things are very grey and cold and dead, there's no snow (on the ground, anyway) and for that I am thankful.
Last night Jannah said, "If this world were perfect, what would your life be like?" And I replied with money, job, travel, apartment sans roomate, relationship with my parents, brother, friends. But really, what I should have said was, "I wouldn't be afraid anymore." That's the biggest thing that holds me back and always has. Anxiety, somewhere along the way (probably around age 16) morphed from mere worry to sheer terror. It's iron grip is what holds me at the threshold of life. It offers tantilizing bites of what I could accomplish/be/have, then snatches it away. How do I fix this? Now that I recognize it, what can I do?
Maybe those are questions that can't be answered even by the most seasoned psychologist. Maybe it's in all of us, and some are better at hiding it than others. Maybe maybe maybe.
If you're looking for a song to cry/drink alone to, "Mono" by Fightstar.
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[Oct09'2006 04:23AM] |
One of my uncles told everyone this summer in a letter that he's been living as a woman. We knew there was something fishy going on when he showed up to Christmas last year with plucked eyebrows and a higher voice than my five year old female cousin. But tonight everyone actually saw him in drag. I nearly fell off my chair. I was not drunk enough for that little spectacle. Apparently no one in the family was. I mean, trannies on Queen St at 2am is one thing, but when it's your own uncle? The uncle with two small kids and a wife? At five o'clock on a Sunday? It was all too much. He was wearing capri's and a pink t-shirt with manicured hands and an auburn wig. I think we all would have reacted better if he had showed up in a Tina Turner outfit. But my family deals with things with humour so they were in rare form tonight, and poor John/Laura may never speak to any of us again. Which is sad. But he/she kind ofd brought it on him/herself. I mean, you know your brother are going to take the piss, why not spend the four hours you see them twice a year as a man?
Needlessly to say my Thanksgiving was eventful and alcohol filled. AndI get to do it all again tomorrow with the other half. Motherfucker.
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[Sep26'2006 11:30PM] |
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Well, it's official. I have sinusitis. I know you're thinking that sinusitis is a completely made up ailment, but it's true. My doctor diagnosed me with it this afternoon. Four times a year I get a sinus infection that lasts like, three weeks. Therefore, he says, it's sinusitis. My whole entire head hurts. Literally. Even my teeth hurt. My ears hurt, my face hurts, my throat hurts. And my nose is all drippy. GROWL. I despise this sinusitis situation. But I have penicillin and another appointment for an x-ray to decide if I need surgery. Blergh.
Mother is in Ireland, I AM SO JEALOUS. I told her she better bring me back something nice. Because, you know, if it weren't for the greaseball she calls her husband I would be there with her. And if I were there with her I would not have to endure going to my Aunt's on Friday to watch my 12 year old cousin until Sunday morning while her parent's/14 year old brother are away. And then on Sunday night I wouldn't have to get together with the other side of the family at the House of Buddha for my Nana's birthday. Not that I don't enjoy celebrating birthdays at hole-in-the-wall fake Chinese restaurants, but you know. I could be in bed asleep. Or drunk. Plus at some point between Thursday night and Friday morning I have to find the four hours it takes to cut the grass at my Mother's lest she come home to find the whole place run wild. And since my brother was assigned the task of mucking stalls and giving the ancient cat his twice daily saline injections (yes, saline. He refuses to drink water unless it's running and it's really not economical to run the water 24-hours a day) plus work a 12 hour shift, I told him I'd come home to cut grass.
Anyway. I'm sick and I need to buy my Nana a present tomorrow. I have no idea what to get her. What do 81 year old women want? She's not a typical 81 year old, either, she's still driving and wearing heels and throwing cocktail parties. I don't know. I know she likes Michael Buble. Maybe I'll get her something Buble related. Or maybe I could find some cheap-ish Barbara Streisand tickets. Hmm.
szdfhadfh.
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[Sep19'2006 06:55PM] |
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I don't feel well.
I went to the bookstore and bought the Anxiety & Phobia Workbook, finally, after people nagging me for years to get it. I'm trying to read it but my mind keeps wandering. I keep getting distracted by cars in the parking lot and the cat and the round-and-round thoughts in my head. I hate living like this. I had big plans for today, hauling furniture up from the basement and reorganizing my room. So for I've done nothing but buy crap I don't need and sleep. I really fucking hate fall.
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| This story's old |
[Sep17'2006 09:43PM] |
I'm trying to keep my head above water as dead leaves blow around my feet. Is it just me or are they falling earlier every year? I keep the lights on all night because in the dark my mind wanders around in circles, always ending up somewhere between overwhelming dread and a perverse longing for the sadness that has come to define my personality. I keep thinking cliche existential thoughts: if nothing in life is certain but death, what am I waiting for? I had lunch on friday with a friend I haven't seen in months and he said, "You need to get laid." And I think maybe he's right, in a way, maybe the reason I haven't checked out completely is that I've been hanging on to some pathetic scrap of hope, if I keep myself alive long enough then maybe the first love will come back to me. And if not, a new one will magically appear on my doorstep.
My mother is going to Ireland on Friday for tweleve days. I wish it was me going with her instead of the slimy new(ish) husband. I want to lose myself in lilting accents and green grass and cold seas. I want to stand on the cliffs of Moher and feel the wind on my face. I want to go to county Sligo and look at the graves of my ancestors. Instead my mother and her husband will go and do those things, except he won't appreciate any of it. Not in the same way I would.
Mastercard sent me a notice to say they have increased my credit to $2000, as requested. I know this is a terrible idea, since the best coping skill I have is shopping and I can easily spend all that money in an afternoon without a second thought. I've already ordered three books from Chapters and I didn't even look at how much they were. I don't have ANY real money to spend. I've never been big on consequences, though, and I think a week from now I will regret spending all this money thats not mine but a week from now is not today. And not tomorrow. I want a tall bookshelf for my bedroom and a new area rug and the new John Mayer cd and one of those fancy paper lamps from Ikea. Hmm.
I should probably be seeing a proper psychologist instead of just meeting with the region-appointed psychiatrist once a month. I'm not taking the Zoloft regularily, although I have been taking vitamin D in an attempt to better absorb what little sunshine is available.. I need talk-therapy, mostly, I need someone to listen. I don't have any friends that I feel I can burdern with my melancholy, my mother doesn't want to hear any of it. Dad is too busy with his post-midlife crisis family. I do have a nurse, but she's only interested in shortcuts and pill pushing. If I make a stink she wants to commit me.
Anyway.
On a more frivolous note, someone should tell that stupid woman Fergie that her back combed extentions went out in 1953. And that she's not fooling anyone with her attempt at ripping off MIA.
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[Aug29'2006 06:54PM] |
I got a new job today, starting on the 9th. I'm not sure about it yet, cash part-time. Better than the nothing I'm doing now, though.
The leaves are already turning bright red. Just a few, here and there. I can't believe next weekend is Labour Day. What happened to summer? This neverending cycle is wreaking havoc on my head. I've been listening to the new Killers song on repeat, it reminds me of someone from years ago. I've lost ten pounds in ten days, which is exciting. I've been overhauling my diet/excersise in preperation for the oncoming season. Hopefully 30 minutes of intense cardio and the new balanced diet will help to stave off depression. Although, oddly, as much as I fear going crazy for the next nine months I crave it as well. I hate it and love it. I don't feel real when I feel "good". I feel empty. It's like all summer I float through life and then in the fall someone pulls the rug out from under me and I hit the floor, hard, and it feels bad but it feels real.
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[Aug19'2006 09:22PM] |
I have to wait until the end of September until I can get in to see my psych. 150mg's of Zoloft makes me sick to my stomach, but 100mg's doesn't make me feel better. I don't know what to do.
My heart has been extra heavy this week. I'm finding muself playing "depression" music on repeat: The Stills, Pilate, Radiohead. After all the talk and promises, it makes me feel like a failure when I do so little to resist it.
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[Aug11'2006 06:31PM] |
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A one week anniversary today, funeral yesterday. Too many tears and hugs and "I'm so sorry's."
Still don't have a job, but I'm going back to Stride after my midterm next Monday. Sigh. All I've done this week is hang around the house knitting while Jannah cried in the bathroom and her mother called me repeatedly to ask how she was doing. And I feel like such a shit, but I need Jannah to go home, or to her parent's, before I freak out. My tan is already fading, peeling in odd places, I'm smoking like a chimney (again) and I don't think I'll ever be able to go into my mother's pool again.
This summer has been shitty compared to last year.
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| I've been to too many funerals in my short lifetime. |
[Aug07'2006 09:00PM] |
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On Friday night a few friends and I were at my mother's swimming, and Jannah's boyfriend, Eric, decided to jump off the poolhouse roof. I told him while he was climbing up that it was too shallow, he said he was a good diver. I said it again, "You'll break your stupid neck!" and rolled my eyes and sipped my vodka. The friend that Eric brought was in the pool, yelling at him to jump. He jumped, hit the bottom, took a moment to come back up. Jannah jumped in, I ran for the phone. Frantically dialing 911, Jannah screaming Eric's not breathing. Eric's friend pulling him up onto the patio, I'm trying to tell the operator what happened but it was so quick I don't really know. "I think he's dead." Jannah saying he's such an idiot, why did he jump? The friend is trying to clear an airway, Jannah pumping his chest. What feels like hours later an ambulance comes, there's a faint pulse, they say. Load him up, take him to the hospital. We're racing behind, Jannah is still screaming. I'm telling her to calm down and give me the number for Eric's parent's. "Hello, your son is on the way to the hospital I think he broke his neck jumping into my pool." He's announced dead at the hospital. Broken neck, major head trauma. What happened? they ask. Why was he diving? I'm crying, I'm sorry, sorry. Jannah is telling me over and over it's not my fault, I know but I still feel responsible. I shouldn't have let him get up on the roof. How many times over the years has my Dad lectured us about not diving? How many times, just this summer, has Peter caught my brother climbing up there and screamed bloody murder? I knew it was dangerous. I knew the pool was too shallow. I let him jump anyway.
Funeral Thursday, his older sister is flying in from New Zealand where she's teaching. His devasted mother doesn't want to do a viewing, she can't handle it. I feel so bad. We all do. Jannah has been drunk all weekend, sleeping on my couch because she can't bear to go back to the apartment they shared.
Only 24 years old. Gone in an instant.
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[Aug02'2006 12:18AM] |
I've just decided to go see the Warhol exhibit at the AGO on August 17th. I've been dying to get down there since it opened, and this is one exhibit I WILL NOT MISS. Usually summer at the AGO stinks, but Warhol? Yes. I'm still deciding if he's overrated or not.
Also, everyone needs to download 'Sofa Song' by The Kooks, 'Worry' by Nizlopi, 'Mono' by Fightstar and 'A Certain Romance' by the Arctic Monkeys. I wish I lived in the UK.
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[Aug01'2006 09:35PM] |
 New layout. 150 mgs of Zoloft makes me ill, but 100 mgs doesn't do shit, what now Doc? I am way obsessed with Big Brother 7, Kaysar is a fox. I will never stop watching that show. Every summer, it never fails. I just applied for a job at a self storage place that's only open 5 days a week, 10-4, and pays $10 an hour. SIGN ME UP. I really want that job bad. But I'll bet they'll be bombarded with resumes. I really want a cigarette. It's so motherfucking hot outside I can't stand it. Gawd, these pills make me feel so sick. Headache, nausea the whole bit. I need the Superstore to send me my last paycheck so I can get some groceries and stop eating Jello for every meal. Even though it's hot as Hades, I can feel Fall just around the corner. Back to school commercials always set off the fall/winter depression. I get SAD even before SAD season starts, just because of those damn commercials. It's nothing to do with light, it's all in my head. All this talk about World War III doesn't help, either. On tv they're saying, "Pray to God they don't nuke us all." I'm saying, God abandoned us a long time ago. I want to go see Lady In The Water. We tried to see it last weekend but something broke and we had to see Pirates instead, which was better than I thought it would be. I also want to see the Night Listener, Toni Colette is great. My. Head. Hurts. I'm all gross and peely, itchy itchy skin. My face was so tanned last week and now that it's peeling off, I'm all splotchy. Dark in some places and light in others. I look ridiculous. My mother is going for surgery on Friday, it'll be nice when she can see again. And last but not least, Mel Gibson. I used to think he was great, and he's still a good actor but man, what a tool.
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[Jul13'2006 07:29PM] |
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I feel like shit today. Too much daytime sleep, I think.
I've been artfully avoiding my psychotic roomate all day, too. She asked me last night if I'd go up to the mall with her and I said yes without really listening. She won't go by herself. It's not like an anxiety thing, she's just a moron who thinks people will see her by herself and think she's some kind of leper. I've tried numerous times to explain to her that this irrational thinking is ... irrational. But she's stupid. So all day she's been waiting to pounce on me as soon as I open my door. "Katie, can we go now? Katie? Are you ready to go?" I have to slink around without making the floor creak, so she won't know I'm awake. Ugh. I have absolutely no desire to escort her downtown but I have a hard time saying no. She gives the worst guilt-trip lines ever. And in the beginning, when she moved in I made it perfectly clear I wasn't looking for a friend, just a roomate. In other words, you do your shit, I'll do mine and we'll be polite and curteous but I don't want to talk or have anything to do with you.
Anyway. Big Brother is on tonight, at least I have that. And my computer came in yesterday, it's so much smaller than my old laptop. It's only a twelve inch, which will be nice when I have to lug it around.
I have to go to the bathroom and I'm starving yet I feel like I can't leave my little lair here or Lee will be all over me as to why I ignored her all day. Grr. I need to get a roomate who isn't clinically insane.
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[Jul11'2006 12:10PM] |
This weekend and yesterday/today I've been dealing with very random bouts of giddiness. I don't know where it's coming from or why, but I'm enjoying it immensely. The only problem is that as quickly as they come, they pass just as quickly. Like right now, I logged into LJ to post about how happy I was and already it's passed. Perhaps the medication gods are going to bless me with one that works? (Oh please, Zoloft, please work!) Or maybe it's just all the sunshine I soaked in over the weekend. Whatever the case I am crossing my fingers that these little burts will start to last longer.
So I bought tickets to see Ben Lee in Waterloo, exciting. Jannah agreed to go with me, even though she thinks Ben Lee is a moron. (!!) And I was very upset about the fact that I missed The Streets earlier this summer. I finally got my hands on his new album, it's very good. "Never Went To Church" makes me cry. I have a bit of a teenie bopper crush on Mike Skinner, I think it's that fake cockney accent he puts on. And I'm dying to know who "When You Wasn't Famous" was written about ...
I'm going camping next week with Dana & co. The last time I went camping my Dad set my cousin's face on fire by flinging a flaming marshmallow at him. It was an accident, of course, but he then tried to put it out with whisky. So that kind of put me off camping for a bit but I think this trip next week will be fun. I'm not really looking forward to sleeping on the ground or having to bathe in the lake, but I do enjoy laying on the beach reading. I also enjoy the fact that Dana's friend Chris will be going and he's gorgeous.
I'm still waiting for my new computer to get here HURRY THE FUCK UP! My dad has assured me that it could take two weeks, since he bought it off a guy in California but I wanted it last week so I could start my HTML course on it and not have to transfer all the files it took me ages to download. Grrr.
Anyway. My mother is still half-blind and I'm still feeling really bad for her. I hope she gets that surgery soon.
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[Jul06'2006 01:40AM] |
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My mother has been complaining of blurriness bordering on blindness in her left eye since Saturday, and today she found out she has a cataract. My 49 year-old mother. She got poked in the eye with scissors when she was a kid and so a cataract has developed because of the scar tissue. And the opthomologist says he may not be able to see her for months (like, six) and that when he does examine her he may not even be able to operate on it. She may have to go to the states. So now my mom can't drive at night, has a hard time driving during the day with one blind eye, and can't watch tv, read or use the computer without giving herself a migraine. I feel really bad for her. She's got a trip booked to go to Ireland for 10 days in September, but she may not have even seen the doctor by then. So the trip she's been looking forward to for months may have to be cancelled. :( And on top of that my idiot brother got yet another speeding ticket and had his lisence (license?) revoked, so now he needs my mom to drive him to and from work. When she's half blind. Grrr.
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