Anxiety

So ... I'm an idiot.

Not an actual idiot, but I feel like I am.

I got my hair cut on Thursday, and you have no idea what an achievement that is for me these days.

She fucked up my hair.

I meant to go get it sorted today ... but I can't.

I suck at things like this, like doing mundane things and having people meet their targets at work by being blandly nice to me while providing a service. And even more when they just want to fuck off home but rather than have a conversation where I feel comfortable enough to return the next day when there's time they do a shit job and rush me out, hoping that because there's a curl to my hair I will never notice how uneven the back is. Has she never heard of straighteners?

But I can't just stroll up to a hairdressers, go in and get a cut. That visit took me months of knowing my split ends were bad and having hair so long I had to sleep with it in pigtails and had to move it to the side if I put a hood on; hair so long that once I finished brushing one side, the other would be a knotted mess again. That visit took me a lot of effort fighting weird personal demons I can't even explain and she MADE IT WORSE.

I'm like this about asking for things for me, it takes me ages to ask for favours, or to let people know I'm struggling. It's not because I'm a martyr, I just believe in being fair and I was taught to see other people's views so much that I talk myself out of situations unless they are, in my mind, pressing. So asking for a day off work? Took me a month to plan how to. Asking for a babysitter from my parents? A few days. Having my haircut? Yeah ...

I'm actually really upset about this. I feel like my hair's already so short - I only wanted a few inches off, the front straightened out because my fringe grows longer than the rest, and my hair thinned out because it's so Goddamn thick ... but that was too much.

I went on the shop's website today, but they're an independent one (if you live near me, it's the one in the bus stop. I went because the hairdresser my dad goes to was shut, this is unisex and they give the boy lollipops. He was having his hair cut too. She's left a few strands here and there and was the same hairdresser I had, so clearly on the ball, right?) and only give an address. So strongly worded letter it is then. At least my fingers are forward where I hang back, yes?

Sexuality

This is going to be one of those slightly uncomfortable posts. Or very uncomfortable posts. I think I might be good at both of those.

I'm going to kinda frankly and very unclearly discuss my own sexuality. I am going to leave the actual post a little further down the page, so if you don't care or don't like discussing it or you think I'm being more self-centred than a blogger normally is, you can skip over it.




















































Still with me? Okay. I've been reading a lot of anti-fifty shades stuff. Like, a lot. At the moment, I'm reading through Das Sporking, and I've already made it clear I'm a Jenny Trout fan. And a lot has been said about different sexualities and it's kinda made me think.

See, I've only dated guys, and not many of them either. Yet people tend to think I'm a lesbian, or they did as I was growing up. Nowadays, I work with a few lesbians ... and no. I'm seriously nothing like them.

Anyway, I'm not too fussed about the whole going-out-with-someone thing. I've always found it a little surreal when I do end up with someone. And my last boyfriend (I don't count the rebound who ended up being my son's dad) was when I was 21. That's a pretty long time ... like seven years.

I don't know ... I mean, when I like someone, I'm pretty clear on the fact it's a crush and I don't normally want it to go past 'they're pretty and I like looking at them now and then' and it's rarely reciprocated, which is okay. Like, there's a guy I work with right now that I joke about with, and everyone thinks I'm besotted with him because he is man-pretty and we can joke about ... but I'm not. I don't want anything, except to out-gross him with banter.

That's not right, is it? As in, not conventional. Enter the stuff I've been reading lately, the stuff talking about the lesbian, gay, transgender communities ... and Asexuality came up. A lot. And that's got me wondering. It sounds weird saying I have a child but I think I might be asexual, but that's where I'm at right now. Like, sometimes I miss having someone to hug when I feel a little down, but that's it. That's all I want. And apparently this fits in with demisexual, or demiromantic. So ... not like I always like a label on it, but I think I am demiromantic (a person who may identify as a "grey asexual" because they may feel sexual desire once a reasonably stable/large emotional connection has been created, according to Wikipedia) and I actually kinda feel a little better about how I view life knowing I have that kind of label.

And I don't think the shit I put right at the beginning of this blog has anything to do with it. Maybe Disney does, or going to an all-girls high school and being made to feel like because I wasn't boy-obsessed or girl-obsessed, or because I was too clinical in sexual health lessons that I must be a freak. Maybe it's because actually, I wasn't that impressed when I did lose my virginity (at 21 as well. Long-lived, obviously. Yes, same person. No, I cannot in any way relate to Ana Steele and her attitude to sex. Sorry, but that girl should be way more like me) and I kept thinking 'really? Is this it?' - I thought that with a guy I loved.

It makes me wonder about how effective I'm going to be, writing the story that I am ... nothing like a crash in confidence writing an obscure version of romance than being an obscure version of sexuality.

So anyway, I guess ... there you go. If I have to go for a person, it will be male (unless it's my friend Martha, but that's a whole other story ;) ) but I most probably won't be with someone for a long time, and even then, I'll probably seem offhand and aloof about the whole thing, because they might excite me as a person, but their mind and soul will be far, far more important to me than the way they kiss or, anything else. It's not celibacy, either ... I just don't get the whole need-for-sex thing, period.

**edit** Okay, I'm actually kinda upset. The view count for this page sky-rocketed and I was like 'really?' and maybe hoping someone was reading with a little more knowledge on this tangent and could maybe offer advice, but no. It's all spambots, and I have no idea, beyond the choice of topic name, as to why that could be. The spambots view every page, but once maybe, or twice. Not a couple of hundred times. Does anyone with a better working knowledge of blogger than me know of a way of blocking those sites? It actually feels like it's undermined everything I was actually writing.

And further to this edit, I found a page of asexual terminologies (which is awesome, because pie, cake, and erasure are all entries in there, though they affect everyone ;) ) and it had another term for something I described above. Lithromantic. It means you can be attracted to someone but not want reciprocation. So there we go, I guess, I'm a lithromantic demiromantic. I can feel emotions but expect nothing back, and I don't go looking for it, it happens when it happens and until then, ehhh. It's like crusts on sandwiches, I can eat them, they fill my tummy ... they're just not to my taste.

New master plan

Not a real master plan, because I still don't have my shit together for that.

Just a writing one.

I'm going to finish putting uprooted up on the other blog, and format it for a free ebook. And then when the next books are ready to roll, I will start charging on ebooks.

I mean, not much, maybe 99p, maybe 1.50 because it's competitive when you're unknown out there. But the first one being free will hopefully draw people in, because I have a doozie of a cliffhanger at the very end. Yet to see a person tell me they expected it ;) so yeah ...

Also, I have slept for about four days straight and now I can't sleep. The side effects of head issues, I guess. I thought watching vampire diaries on Netflix would do it, but then I thought Stefan wanted to be Edward Cullen too hard and then Damon was taking the piss out of Edward and I fell into a vampire vortex where, bizarrely, the only thing I could appreciate was on a bag of O positive, it had rh for rhesus, which is the correct terminology for the charge of your blood. For example, I am A rhesus positive ;) take note Stephenie Meyer, it's called research.

It wasn't meant to be like this

Sorry for the silence ... I'm still having problems.

My doctor sent me to the hospital Friday, where I almost passed out when they took my bloods.

I have a long history of blood tests, I get one done at least one a year these days. The worst was my first night in UCLH where they took 30 vials at once. The nurse Friday took three. And that was the first time I got so light-headed I almost fell off the bed/chair.

I'm on pills at the moment, but ... it's not that I think they're placebos, but rather they're hiding my pain. So instead of feeling like I'm being stabbed in the head every time I move it, I now feel really lightheaded, even when I'm laying down. I was late taking them today, and the pain got worse. The hospital were playing safe I think (rather than the GP, who was like 'shit, when this girl gets something, she gets it bad) and think it's a sinus problem but ... yeah I have my doubts. Not that I want it to be a legion like my GP thought either. I actually just want to be able to think straight again.

I missed mcfly :( think it's the first tour of theirs I've missed since I had my son. My friends said it was amazing (which I knew it would be, because they always do something out of the box) but apart from sleeping, and taking my pills, and eating ... no, I haven't done anything else. I tried to have a bath to give my head a rest but the bath hurt my head anyway :(

Writing this is really hurting right now, so I'm going to go lay down again, but I just wanted to put this out there, in case anyone reading had tried to be in contact and they thought I was ignoring them. I swear I'm not, I'm just finding screens hard going right now.

NHS direct

So I'm still not feeling great, and the last two days I've woken up with headaches so bad that if I even move my head to get more comfortable, it's like someone's stabbing my head with razor thin, white hot pokers. I am on so many painkillers right now.

I went on NHS direct this morning to see what advice they'd give, but I don't know why I bothered. NHS direct has one default setting. It's an emergency, call 999 for an ambulance!

NHS direct thinks I have a brain haemorrhage.

I booked an emergency appointment with my GP instead. I only have 2 hours to get dressed, so given the state I'm in ... It's just about enough time.

More semi-pointless ramblings

My poor car is sick. She's just had a new clutch installed so she's been a bitch to drive (I love stalling when trying to change gears, no, really!) but before she went in, I kept telling my dad she had something wrong with the engine as well as her clutch. She was hissing and steaming after a five-minute drive. There's a cap on the engine loose, and when my dad took her in again, apparently the garage people poured like, two litres of water into the water pit and it all just disappeared. So hurrah, my car's dangerous to drive. Win. And it only took telling my dad about four times before he got that there was more than just a loose clutch. For him, that's progress.

Another writer I've been talking to, Alys B Cohen, is going to release her book soon, called Sacred Blood. If you need a book that's like the antithesis to Twilight or fifty shades, then please, please buy and read her book. 20% of sales are going to womens shelters too, so it's all worth while.

Also, I'm going to see Mcfly on Saturday. I am so freaking excited, because I see two of my best friends, and listen to a band I've loved for ten years. We're meant to be staying in a nearby hotel afterwards, but work has been silly and booked me for a night shift that night (I will not comment) so I've managed to compromise to start after getting back on the last train home. Still ... it's for Mcfly *silly heart-sign with hand* I love those boys.

Oh, and again!

Remember when I did that post about Passive reading and I spewed about how much it seems present and how much it scares me? Yeah, I'm talking about that again.

Basically, if you have a book discussion with people, there are a few tricks they try to end the conversation and prove that their opinion is right and yours is wrong, and I hate each and every single one of them. What are they?

-"It's subjective!"
-"It's only fiction."
-"You just don't understand what the writer was trying to say."

I'm going to argue the toss here.

It's subjective.

Yes, well done. Opinion is subjective. It's also entirely redundant to declare that, in an opinion discussion about art, something is subjective. By saying that something is subjective, what you're actually doing is dismissing another perspective out of hand. And as someone who loves, LOVES cubism (which is the art form designed to show multiple perspectives at once, 3D imaging on a 2D format) I can see differing perspectives and select the one that feels most comfortable for what I'm about. That doesn't mean I'm disregarding your opinion out of hand, but rather I'm asking whether you've considered my perspective and trying to get a dialogue going on how the two differing opinions can arise out of one format. I love that, actually, finding out what makes other people tick. But when I'm told something's subjective, it's like being told to calm down when I'm feeling okay. Expect shit to go down, because you know what? My opinion's just as valid as yours (and you telling me to calm down is fucking patronising) and I can respect that nuance, why can't you? By saying 'it's subjective' what you're actually saying is 'I don't respect your opinion, or any that differ from mine'.

It's only fiction.

I said this on goodreads, on a 50 shades thread, recently, as I got so pissed off with this one: Fiction is a grain of truth wrapped in an allegory.

By this, I mean, fiction always carries a message. Sometimes it's a poor message, or it gets lost, but there's a message all the same. Like, in Twilight, you actually learn a lot about Mormon beliefs and the culture (sure, the message is 'give your humanity for love' but it goes deeper than that). Like, in the Smartest Giant in Town (kids book I love reading to my son, Julia Donaldson isn't kid's Laureate for lack of reason) it shows that kindness can be rewarded. And also, four-year-olds love books where someone's trousers fall down.

My point is, the reason or the message or the grain of truth? That's often the initial motivation for the writer to create. Even if it is just 'what Twilight was missing was awkward sex and poor dialogue' that is the core of the story. It's not just pretty words on a bit of paper and once you've read that's it. Books can stay with you for a reason. I read Hunger Games in between overnights. I went without sleep because, even though I thought Katniss was a bitch, I was scared she'd get really fucked up (she wouldn't die, she's the protagonist). It gets bad press, but Crossed in Ally Condie's matched series got me so caught up in their cross-country adventures through war zones that I read it in seven hours, so engrossed in her message about how we are too reliant on both drugs and the information fed to us from the government.

By saying something is 'only fiction' you're just belittling the author's journey (ha, I said that on the 50 shades thread too, that the fan was doing a disservice to EL James, and that though I didn't enjoy 50 I could at least respect that she had a message. Maybe not the one that came out, but one nonetheless. And then I left the thread because really, what more can you say to people who unintentionally talk down on the work they love?) and misunderstanding the point of the prose in the first place. So it's not a relationship manual you're reading, it doesn't mean people don't take tips from what's out there. I read this chicklit book recently (sorry if you're one of the people who hate that terminology for often-funny-romance) where the woman protagonist was obsessed with having a romance like on TV. It was called something like 'From Nottinghill with Love, Actually' or something ... the point is, the writer obviously resonated with those films, and wanted to tell other women 'it's okay to aspire to more than also-ran, because that's what romance is about'. And dammit, she's right.

So STFU. Even in Life of Pi, it's said that the Soul needs stories. Pi would not have survived without creating his allegory. S.T.F.U.

You don't understand what the writer is trying to say.

Maybe I do. Maybe I've read enough that I can see what the writer isn't trying to say too. Or maybe the writer's just not that good and they've made their story too ambiguous. Or maybe, just maybe ... you don't understand it either.

So, there's this girl ...

... we won't give her a name. A combination of bad health and exhaustion from over-working led her to have a breakdown. She's still really fragile from it, because it wasn't too long ago. She's kind of been part-time at her work to avoid being signed off, and this week is the first week she's done more than one shift in a row.

And yet ... and yet the first chance the people she works with get, they understaff her shift. And people don't show up for it on top of that. Her superiors leave her with all their last few jobs. Her voice is fading, she can barely make a sound. Someone she was expecting in quit and no one told her until the last minute. Everyone expects her to talk with no voice, to give them answers. She has her own work to do, and extra work one of those who left earlier emailed over. She now has to do the work of the girl who quit on top.

She didn't get home until 5am. She was due home at 1am.










How long until you would crack completely?

#ramblerambleramble

I haven't updated for a while. I feel like I should, but really I have nothing in my head. Almost nothing, my characters are still there and my boss keeps trying to give me things to think about (which is really not working so hot) but otherwise, it sure feels empty in my head.

I'm nowhere near back to normal, obviously. I want to be, but at the moment that feels as far away as the moon. Bad health sucks.

The only good news I have is that I've signed up for UCLH's charit bike ride this June. It cost around £15000 a day or something to treat me, so I like doing their charity bits to give back. I will most likely be adding a sponsorship page in the near future for it.