don't know how to do this anymore

so if I try to evaluate the last 7 weeks or so, about all I can come up with is :

- the dude is married, and he's not leaving home. I do admire him for that, even if I think his reason's kinda suck. He is unhappy, he screws around, he lies. A huge chunk of what is meaningful to him happens elsewhere and she is so completely dumb that it's a tossup as to whether she even knows it or not.

- I love him completely, and no matter how many times I ask him to please go away, when he says things like 'if that is what you want....', I fold. No, babe, it is so NOT what I fucking want. I want to be with you forever, fulltime, openly. I don't want you to ever go away. But I am trying so hard to stop this because it just hurts too much.

- he is using me at the moment, financially. Stuff that is easy to me is impossible for him , and I'm trying to pull back on the support a bit, but when he cannot keep his head out of water monetarily....I can't stand back and watch him drown. I just can't do that.

- I have been lost for the last weeks, and I feel more and more that the only way out of this is by being dead. All I want is to be with him, all I do at the moment is see him when I can, and cry myself ugly in between. All I've proved in the last two months is that I cannot get myself out of this relationship unless he will walk away, and he just won't do that

- I cry for most of every day, and drink huge amounts most nights. And every morning I leap out of bed and do stuff - feed birds, work, study. Until I know whether I'll see him or not, and then the day disintegrates. I can't even screw around anymore. Some sweet-sounding guy found me via the dating site that I put a profile on way back when the dude did, and has been mailing me now and again since then. Got as far as online chat over the weekend, he wanted to meet for coffee and see how things progressed from there. Yeah, it's a pick-up site, nothing with potential, but he still seemed comparatively nice. I mailed him back yesterday to say not yet, I just can't do it. I can't even look at having coffee - never mind shagging him silly. He's not the dude, and I just can't even pretend that it would be enjoyable.

Never mind don't know how.... don't even want to do this anymore either

very little

to say.

I am working, erratically. Frustrated as all hell, because the best thing that my company has ever done for employees seems to have been arbitrarily cancelled. Apparently, one of the other teams found 'team building' to be not so pleasant. Call it cultural divide - smart, trainee, woman, two degrees and can speak 5 languages including English. And very, very (trust me on this one) narrow-minded pair of team leaders who both come from a small company-town background where even English is considered waaay too liberal, because of take-overs and outsourcing, now working for multi-national corporate. Which still has a senior layer from the same background. Winner? The cultural throwback Neanderthals. I am too pissed off to even bother complaining.

Bird baby-season in full swing. Lots of screaming mouths, regular transfers to the centre, still not quite keeping up.

And the dude. Not quite over. Some of the parameters have changed, but not by much. I said to him on Weds that one of the things that I am obviously not very good at yet is not seeing him. As I gave him back his keys to my house.....

This is worse than giving up smoking cocaine. I managed that easily, and quickly, and although sometimes I still think back to how completely good it made me feel, in more than 7 years I have never considered even looking for a Nigerian.

Then again, crack never sent me a text message to say that it was thinking of me, but would respect my decision not to see it. He does. And an arbitrary message to say have a good day, or something similar.

And more than anything, there has never been any person, place or distraction that has made me breath deeply when I encounter it and then, with my entire body, heart and soul feel that this is it. I am home, at last...here is where I belong.

Above anything, above everything, that defines the dude....

adult hadeda ibis

- a common silly joke around JHB, presuming one has heard the shrieks of 'ha-ha-HA-DE-dah'...
why do hadedah's shriek? Because they are scared of heights, so they are yelling 'where-the-F*CK-ARE-we'....

confusion reigns even more

what can I say. Dude collected posessions on friday, I have howled for 4 days solid, even while I did a 200 km round trip to pick up a small duiker (alsation sized buck)that had been hit by a car - but was pretty damn feisty nonetheless - and deliver him to our antelope-specialist vet.

Today he appeared out of the blue for 'coffee'. He had it. I am even more of a wreck than I have been for the last couple of weeks. Posts on either/both blogs to follow, once I have found where I mistakenly left my brain. Cos it sure as heck ain't with me today...

google search: why don't you find baby hadeda ibises

given their domination over JHB skies - especially at sunrise (!!) - a good question. Answer is because they mostly nest really high in very big trees, so any babies that fall before they fledge (and can therefore at least glide, even if not fly properly) are pretty dead by ground-impact time.

I wonder why more little (well, comparatively, at least) bodies aren't found, but my guess is that they are often confused with semi-adult pigeons. We get an awful lot of baby pigeons that are thought to be hadedas. And the rest are probably eaten by dogs etc.

But baby hadedas are really cute - picture an adult reduced in size to about a quarter, with fluff instead of feathers, and a beak of an inch or two in length. The pic is of a fledgling, so already has feathers and is quite a bit bigger

so the dudeblog is effectively dead

no reason for a dude blog without a dude, is there. Keeping it at the moment so that I can go back and torment myself late at night with it - cant work out how to copy it all formatted etc to anywhere else.

so friday two weeks ago I did the ultimatum/end the damn thing bit. Didn't see him till tues when he just arrived, said no decisions yet, and we were in bed before the kettle had even boiled. Lots of time and chat for the rest of the week, till eventually on tues I said that he needs to talk.

He did. I cannot remember a word of what he said, although I am trying desperately to recall it. Basically? Over. Gave back his keys to my house, some stuff still to exchange. I knew when I did the choice thing what he would have to choose, but it was the only way I could walk away from him. Even after that, he was still surprised by not being able to keep seeing me anyway as friends. I'm not his friend. I love him. I can't do casual anymore..

I am cold and numb and dead inside. Only wish that the deadness could get to the rest of me.

hurting

earlier today I was doing the birdy cleaning up, and looked at the container readying itself to go the glass recycling dump up the road. Large number of vodka bottles for the last two weeks, since the dude-baby was first mentioned.

On Friday we met, had coffee, talked a bit and went to see a funny movie. The movie, and everything else for the day was made even better because of his comments. He picks up on things that are awesomely funny, but would be missed if he didn't highlight them. Same for the rest of life with him - it would fly beneath the radar if he didn't highlight things, and then it's hard to see how one could ignore such funny/strange/amazing things.

We talked for about 3 hours, and at the end of it the only thing that was clear to me is that I just don't wanna even try to do this anymore if he's not around. And he wasn't promising anything more than he always has. Friends, f**K-buddies. Whatever. I came home alone, and all I could see was that I want to be with him, seriously, permanently. And that that is just not going to happen, but in the meanwhile I will do wahtever I have to just to pretend that maybe it could, so that I can keep on dreaming and hoping.

Did my level best to flatten that, later that night. Sent him a mail saying I can't be friends, and that I see only two options. Stay home or stay here. Roughly. Told him I'd like an answer by next weekend, either way. And started a serious drinking weekend.

So about an hour ago, I came up with a brilliant simile, albeit with a 3rd in me already. This is like an abscess. It's gonna hurt a whole lot regardless. So if it gets drained, it hurts way more now, but ends up healing. Might not, either, might just stay infected, and keep hurting like hell, and end up killing me. So drinking right now hurts, and I cry a lot, but maybe it gets the pain out faster.

Who am I fucking kidding. This is like trying to squeeze your lungs out via your throat, and then being surprised that breathing is difficult.

Never going to stop hurting, never gonna be easier once they're gone..,.

dual post...

- for jcatblog and the dudeblog, so maybe shorter on specific detail, but - really - all that has happened in the last three weeks has been dude-centered. So what's to say?

We were on track for time away together, after a contact-deprived fortnight for one reason or another. First off was supposed to be our standard Sunday quickie, which fell through. OK, desperate, but OK.

He came over on Monday night, held me very close and told me that he had found out on the Sunday that his wife was 13 weeks pregnant. I froze. He held me tighter, and said that he had to tell me in person. And then we went to bed and made love as never before. I told him that - as I had said way before - kids change things, and that this would mean the end of everything between him and me.

Between a visit and mail on Tues, we sort of talked a bit, and I begged for the time away together as the requiem. Rather than the celebration it was planned as. He agreed. So after a lot of holding close, we went away on Monday.

Nightmare from the start. I was half terrified, half ecstatic, and so determined not to let my emotions stuff up the last time together. I didn't need to, because his wife did. Text messages every 10 or 15 minutes together, and when I eventually looked annoyed enough he offered to turn the sound off. I said it wasn't the sounds, but the fact that I really needed to have him be with me, just me, even if for a short time. He tried, but didn't make much difference - the frequency dropped by about 5 mins or so. And as he said, if he didn't respond it would be worse. I hated her so much that night. She has everything going for her - age, beauty, lifestyle. And him, above all, him. Add having his child to that, and the fact that I would be giving up my love to send him home for good...I needed him so much, just for a while.

The next day started off ok - apart from the messages. Then, through no choice, we were out of contact with the world for a while. A landline call at lunch said wife was nauseous. By 15h30, it was many messages from the MIL to say she had cramps. He asked if I would take him to wherever he could catch a bus, I said not to be silly - it would be way faster to drive, and without him there was no reason for me to be there. So we left, raced back, hardly spoke for most of the trip. I bought a pack of smokes after two days of not smoking at all. And I cried a lot. He bit his nails. After a while we both tried to talk shit, so that we could pretend that the world wasn't disintergrating.

She lost the baby a day later, at 14 weeks. I cannot concieve of how awful that is. For her. For him. I am tormented by how much I hated her on Monday, by how we were 5 hours away because of my dream, by how him being here would not have changed what happened but that he and I will never forgive ourselves for it anyway.

We have spoken briefly since. Today he said that no matter how bad this is, he cannot allow it to become his definition forever. And that he wants to come over tomorrow to talk. Originally he was supposed to visit to say goodbye and return each other's belongings. That was hard enough to face. Now? I don't know what he will need from me, but whatever it is, I have no option. I love him completely. If he needs to talk or love or ignore it, if he needs money or a timeout, if he needs me to rip my heart out and pretend for the next few days that we are all cool with life.. whatever he wants from me, I will be there to support him.

Afterwards? I don't know. I have to keep it together for as long as he needs me, and for long enough after that to distance him from the wreckage. For the last two weeks, I haven't been able to stop myself from visualising flames and walls and dying 'accidentally'. I cannot see anything past saying farewell to him, and I am way too old and ugly to believe something like this could happen again. Doesn't matter that I didn't expect it or even see it coming - it happened, and it has changed me irrevocably. And you know what? Being with him and loving him has ripped me apart three times in six months, it has cost me a small fortune, it has made me a deceitful, lying, conniving bitch in many ways. But even now, I cannot really say that i wish it had not happened. So it will most likely kill me, but if nothing else I can honestly say that I know what love is.

And it's worth it, really.

forgot to mention

that I finally gave in and bought myself a Wii console, with the intention of getting the Wii Fit too. If they were available, that is. After many calls and enquiries, I am now on the waiting list for one. Which I might get in the next month, but no guarantees. I cannot believe that something like this is completely sold out in every damn store in town!

Well, until I tried the Sports game. I am hooked, obsessed and cannot wait for my Fit to get here! This is more fun than any kind of exercise except sex. So now I'm being semi good and alternating the stepper and the Wii. And I have my first Wiinjury too. From baseball I think, after I was soooo determinded to win a game that I smacked every ball with all my might - won the game, but now have a lame left bicep. Not that that has stopped me...just playing tennis and bowling instead!

consistency is key....

which basically means....a litle bit more of everything! I kinda like this. It's almost normal, I guess, as opposed to the long periods of gloom. Mood overall is still on the positive side. There are a few all over the scale days, but I'm managing to keep a hold on them somehow. Mostly by dude-thoughts, but also because I figure that life overall isn't always positive.

It's one of the scariest things about MDD etc, that it becomes so much of a question over every day. Yeah, so today (theoretically) was crap - but is it just because sometimes crap days happen? Or is there a good reason for feeling crap today? Or is this the start of another bad one.... Doubt everything. Don't trust happiness in case it's delusional. Don't allow sadness in case it's the beginning of a plunge. Don't cry in movies in case you can't stop. Don't laugh too much because the gods might notice. Don't, don't, don't.

I figure the last three weeks are still in balance though. Big scare with my mom, big unhappiness with work, big joy with the dude. Good bird stuff, and some bad. Lots of running around arranging things. Way too much socialising with old-buddy, who, TG, has now gone back to Oz - I couldn't have coped with much more! For someone who has just hit the big 6-0, she is still impossible. Complains bitterly about being dragged home at 04h00 by 'party-pooping faders' i.e. me, and then charms me into doing it all over again a couple of nights later. It was so good to see her though, because our friendship really doesn't thrive without personal contact.

It was good to spend time with my folks, although it wasn't a great reason for doing it. I am reminded all over again that my dad is almost 75, my mom almost 70, and that they aren't indestructable. But I am still nowhere near ready to not have them around, and somehow I don't think I will ever be. It's different in a way it seems, if you have your own kids, and make the leap from being the child to being the parent. Lately I've seen a whole lot of views from both sides of the table, and it doesn't matter how old one is or how much one has achieved...that switch is the key. OK, so Britney is not gonna get there ever, but I guess there have to be exceptions!

The dude. It's almost hard to believe that the huge bust-up was only about 5 weeks ago, because so much has changed since then. The basics are still there - enormously physical relationship which appears to be very satisfactory for both of us, lots of fun whatever we do. From my side I'm not trying to play cool anymore, and - in his own way - doesn't seem like he is either. Well yeah, he's just not going to ever be the kind of guy who cries in movies, but he really doesn't mind showing the soft bits. What I like at the moment is that he is dropping the ultra-easygoing facade bit by bit, and - even on minor things - telling me what he'd prefer. Telling me when he is not in a brilliant mood and why, rather than giving out tiny clues for hours. Small things, mostly, but for someone who has spent years perfecting the self-contained fortress, every small thing is a very vulnerable spot. He was awesome with the whole upset over my mom - spent time with me on Weds, called on Thu at exactly the time he knew I'd be on my way to the airport, called twice on Fri and sent sms's while I was sitting with her, and called again on Sat as I was boarding my flight back. Nothing intrusive, nothing unusual said - just enough support though, so that I felt good, felt that he was thinking about me and that he cared. It really makes a difference. To everything...

and a bit more of most things

so, the chicken and two mynahs and a bunch of pigeons all went to their new home at the beginning of the week. Chook, of course was a huge hit. She must be the ugliest bird I have ever seen, but somehow appealing anyway. What was really funny was to see Gustav the Egyptian goose (who is a non-flier that I homed there a year ago) stalking around her with this look of "WTF is this thing"! Cockatiel went today, so now it's down to 9 feral pigeons.

And I'm off to visit my parents at the other end of the country tomorrow. We had a really bad scare, when the gynae found a 5cm tumour on my mom's ovary. Emergency surgery this morning, and thank God it was benign. Didn't realise until my dad called with the results and I basically folded up and sat on the floor cos all my muscles went limp, how tense we'd all been. Going down just to keep them company and do whatever errands I can to help.

Otherwise, my focus is totally dude-centric, and awesome. Almost six months now, and just gets better every day. And scarier, because he is so totally different to me, and sometimes I am really not sure of what I have let myself in for. Dude-blog post to follow, probably tomorrow, about the last week or so. In a detached observer way, it interests me that I see him as so strong, and so in control, but that - as is happening at the moment - if there is anything or anyone that threatens him, I would kill without any qualms. If that was what was needed.

In the rehab context, I have euthanased when birds or animals have been in pain beyond fixing. I drew my line at doing it based on 'invasive' species like mynahs or ferals, which is how I ended up being the specialist in those species. I have only ever killed once on purpose, when I hunted a blesbok and shot it. My cousin, who arranged the hunt (and selected the buck, as an unwanted male that he would have had to cull regardless), also made sure that I did everything else - the head shot, bleeding out, slaughtering and processing the meat. I will probably never ever hunt again, but if I have to, I know that I can do it. As an extension of that, while I don't think I would ever choose to kill a person for any other reason, if they threaten what I love, I don't believe that I would have a problem with that either. It's a very small group that I would defend that way - immediate family, three maybe four others, and the dude. Him especially, although he is more than capable of looking after himself. Guess this is something I should raise with girlshrink when I see her next week. Oh yeah, but I'd need to add her and pdoc to the group as well!

a little bit of everything

some rehab time, both at the centre and at home. I got conned royally though, when I went to fetch a feral pigeon on Monday, by Boss-lady. She gave me this semi-serious talk about how nice she had been to keep the pigeon for me, and then announced that as recompense for that she had a special case for me to look after. And gave me.....
a chicken. Seriously. This is a plump, healthy adult chook, who was obviously on her way to be sold as live meat-on-the-umm,claw? and escaped from the back of the transport truck. She bailed out...on a really busy road in the middle of rush hour traffic. Bear in mind that her wing feathers have been stripped bare, so apart from the natural chicken-flight incapabilities, she would have fallen like a fat round rock. Having not been slaughtered or run over or picked up by the large pedestrian contingent for supper, she ended up at the rehab centre. And then, ended up with me. She needs time for her (viciously-trimmed) beak to regrow a bit, and maybe her wing feathers too, and then I'll have to find her a permanent home. Meantime, she has very proudly laid two eggs, so it's either going to be a whole flock for homing, or I'll have a lot of new-laid omelettes!

some work time too, partly in the ongoing team-building program that is the only good thing that my boss, the virtual manager or ball-less wonder, as he is mostly known, has ever done. It was an awesome session, with just my immediate team and the facilitators, who are really good. A few other bits too, just to justify my bill at the end of the month.

some study time as well. This is so not fun studying - but it's important, and I was reminded this week that it will also increase my marketability quite a bit. And I get this little smirk every time I settle down to do it, because I think about the dude and how he is motivating me.

some buddy time - one of my longest-lasting friends is over here from Australia for three weeks, and it is great to see her. We just don't connect well via mail, but in person it's as if the years apart never happen.

and best of all, lots of fun dude time. He wanted to see if we could find a shoulder holster for his handgun, so it included lots of surfing to find local stores, and then a couple of outings to try and get one. Found a great one for me first, and then today we found one for him. I just love going places with him, even when we get a bit lost or sit in heavy traffic. There's always something to talk about, and mostly to laugh about too, and nicest of all, he holds hands for a lot of road-time and I can just enjoy feeling how strong he is, and how warm... :-)

mood-wise, still all over. I cry a lot, over nothing. But in between I am so, so happy. Love really does make most things better.

celebrating a saturday...

....the last week especially has felt just as good as it used to feel when I was a kid and there was a school holiday. There's this whole anticipation when you wake up, thinking about all the things you could do today if you wanted to, and all the things that you don't have to do as well!

I knew I hated the #2 job, and that it wasn't good for me or for them really, but until this Monday I hadn't realised exactly how much I hated it. The theory was that I was helping them out, and that in turn, the extra cash would help with the dude-expenses. But it didn't really work either way, and not having to go there this week felt so awesome.

Added to which, there has been lots of extra-good dude time. At a cost, of course, but it's a cost I am willing and able to afford for now. Stuff like he drives a really old and unreliable car, won't have it rewired because it's expensive. It's an amount that I would think twice about blowing on nothing, but I've paid for family dinners where a meal for 5 of us was about half the total - just for dinner. So telling him to get it done, even if he jokes about 'permission from the bank manager', is not an issue for me. What is a problem is when he can't get here because of the car, or when he ends up stopped on the side of the freeway in a not-great area. In the same way as I'm used to living with a family who can generally spend way more than I can without blinking, I'm now getting used to being with someone to whom my ad-hoc expenditure is huge. Only thing that I wish I could get him to appreciate is the value of what he does for me, and how priceless some of that is.

One example? He is really keen on studying further, both for his own knowledge (bible studies, general business courses) , and for possible future earnings (health-related serious courses). He asked about what I could be doing that would benefit me in my current career, and I mentioned IBM certification. He nagged me until I found out what was involved, then he nagged till I ordered the books. He was more excited when they came than I was. So last night I skimmed through the 1st one, then registered for an online sample exam. 90 minutes of sweat, plus some serious throw the textbook at the PC moments, but I passed it !!... so once I've read the textbook, I'm sure I'll be able to do it for real. Sent him a joking text, get one back saying 'I am proud of u'. That's priceless. It really is.

Having him with me yesterday for an hour's drive to a nearby town to drop off a stray kitty that I'd found a home for was wonderful. The way he let the cat out of the basket because she was scared, and the way he sat for 30 minutes with her in his arms, so that she was so comfortable she fell asleep (and farted like a champion 'cos she'd overeaten in the morning!) was more than wonderful. Not to mention the way he made me laugh for 3 hours, the way we talked crap about anything and everything the whole way back, the way being lost in a strange city was fun instead of being stressful. Priceless, and more valuable than he will ever know. And that's before I even get into how good it is to drive with my hand on his leg...:-)

Blush. This post is on the border of being banished to the dude-blog, but think I have managed to keep it anonymous and under a PG rating!! To sleep, to sleep....less than twelve hours to dude-alicious time again...

yay!

I got fired, albeit very nicely and not in so many words, from the #2 job today. Seems like very nice boss-lady has finally realised what I knew a while ago - that I am not skilled enough in the area that she needs to make much of a difference, and that what would help for her - having a warm body on site all day - isn't really feasible for me at the moment. So she told me tactfully today by phone that she thinks that new trainee guy can handle most of what is needed while she is away, and that if I can finish off the code I am working on, she'd prefer it if I could be available but not involved. What can I say? I gapped out of there like the proverbial bat, danced into the dude's arms when I got home singing 'i got fired! i got fired!' It was a favour for a friend, and I knew within a few days that it wasn't a good match, but at the same time I didn't want to let bosslady down anymore than I was already by being a useless programmer.

But yay! All I have to do is finish off some testing, and then I am out of there! I am so relieved that I am not even going to think of billing them for this weeks hours!

calmer waters

horrendous weekend. Not only the whole dude crisis, but just about everything else. Including Fridays arrival of an extra ten starving little pigeon bodies, so all my normal crisis coping mechanisms had to be avoided in order to get feeding done at about the right times.

Didn't really matter, because between Friday afternoon and late Monday, I couldn't have made myself sleep for more than 4 hours even with the liberal application of a ten pound hammer to my head, the thought of food or drink just made me race for the toilet to puke, and there was no ways that I could lie in the bath either. So about all I did was cry, pace, cry, smoke, cry, shiver with cold. First time this year that I have had to wear layers of clothes and slippers and duvets, and even so I stayed cold for three days.

And then the dude was here, and while it's not exactly a past issue, it's sorted for now. There is a lot I need to think about for myself, but he is still in my life. And the world kind of resolved again. I eventually ate of Monday evening, slept, went back to shorts and tees....

Oh, and didn't get fired from 2nd job, although I was really hoping I would be. Instead, I reduced my rate, agreed to more hours on site, and finished fixing the code I was working on. And realised too, that the last three months of good mood are far more a result of the dude than the meds. Bummer.

A whole lot of issues to think about, and decide on....but for now I feel kind of like one of those '50s girl bands, all pink and bubble-gum and doo-wop while they sing about the boyfriend is back and the universe is good again. Eeeww! that is just so not me! Or maybe it is??

yeah, well. apocryphal title....

oh god, yeah...how much of a dork can I be. Obviously, a whole lot more than I thought was even possible.....

rest of post, I guess, goes to the dudeblog by default. For the last time. Lets just say that the odds of ever having anything more to say dude-wise are probably below zero. And along with that, my interest in ever saying anything more is also pretty much zero.

dork is polite. Fuckwit stupid loser asshole is more apt.

joke of the week for me? Has to be the bit about how dude has become the best of all words and a substitute for most of the cussing as well. So tonight, where dude also signifies the whole rip my heart out and eat it while it bleeds..... what can I call myself. Dudewit dude-blank dude-aholic dudehole doubledude.....

so how much of a dork can i be....

...in this case, work-wise. So after an awesome dude-visit on saturday, a did-i-actually-do-anything day on sunday, I was back at office #2 on monday. After having scaled off to work at home for most of last week. Spent the whole trip there hoping that I'd get fired, only to discover that boss wasn't in the office. The whole IT dept seems to consist of 5 people including me, one of whom is boss, one of whom is new trainee programmer and one of whom is me. The other two don't talk much. There are also some random other-companies support staff who do stuff, but I haven't quite worked out what yet.

So after I didn't get fired 'cos there was no-one there to do it, I sat down and worked hard for a couple of hours and finished fixing the code I was working on last week. Eureka! Only took me as long as the average 5 year old would take.... Escaped while I was ahead, and came home to do lots of errands before a dude-evening. About two minutes after he said he was hungry, the power went off, so when it didn't come on, we went out for supper. Nerve-wracking, because he knows way too many people, but great anyway, and then a few more hours at home before he left.

Another good visit this morning, and then back to office #2 to see if I was still employed. No sign of boss, and I am starting to vaguely recollect something about her taking this week off, but I am such a wuss that I didn't ask anyone except trainee, who doesn't know either. Sat around a bit, escaped to do more errandy stuff, and looking forward to another dude visit in the morning.

After which....hmmm. Could visit the office again to see if I am employed/fired/have more work.... possibilities are endless. Dork!

phew!

so, having gone through the last few months, I reckon that everything that could identify the dude is now hived off to a separate blog. Might make this one seem a bit disjointed in places to begin with, but hopefully I'll be able to split dude-IDable stuff off from dude-daily info.

talking of which....funny how a word become part of you. Like 'dude' - it's never been a word that I've used, but it sort of snuck in with talking about PT. Then it became the dude's nick as well, and then it became what I call people when I am trying not to call them brainless fucking morons. Like the one who stands in the middle of the road while I'm driving. Or the one doing something stupid at work. And and and. So it now has a hundred different tones, depending on which dude I mean.

this is awful. My vocabulary is regressing. If I start saying like in terms of anything other than a comparison, please shoot me... like right now, dude!

BTW

am thinking I need to take the blog private. It kind of negates the original point, of trying to share the joys of bipolar and life with other people in similar places. Of becoming part of an international group of friends being supportive and sharing things.

That has happened, and I really appreciate the loose community that I feel part of. Quite a few different kinds of people, in very different places, many of whom I regard as important to me, even if we are unlikely to ever meet in person.

But while I am willing to claim blog-me in RL if it ever happens, I don't think that's a choice that other people should face. Other people? So OK, only concern here is the dude. I can't not talk about him, but I worry that I am identifiable by what I write, and so he might be too, and the consequences of that are not mine to accept.

So, Aqua, Pol (UK), Polar Bear, Annie, Lara...there are few more repeat visitors who I haven't blog-met yet.... think I am going to take this one private for a while. Mail me at the jcat456 gmail addy, and I'll send passwords etc....

strange and interesting times

so this morning started out with the next weapon in the stop smoking armament: hypnosis. The acupuncture has helped with cutting down enormously, sometimes even to no cigarettes at all (ok, those days have included a couple of drags on the old and dusty grass, even though I don't actually like feeling stoned anymore), but doesn't seem to be quite enough to kick it completely. What is strangest for me is that I don't even want to smoke at all when the dude is here, I would rather just breathe his unique scent. Days where I don't see him or where he is gone early are still bad though. So round two is the hypnotist lady.

I had to really beg her to take me because she said she isn't certain enough that I want it for myself. I do, but it is also way harder than I thought it would be. I was trying to get really honest with myself about why after the first appt on Weds. Closest I can get to it is that if the dude smoked I probably wouldn't even think of giving up. He doesn't, and I want to do it for him firstly. At the same time though, I have had enough positive comments from other people - without me saying anything to them at all - that I am kind of liking the idea apart from him. I'm at the stage now where I want it to happen, but I'm also realistic enough to see that without him I'd probably slip back to my previous 50-odd a day. It doesn't help that so many of my close friends smoke, and a couple are being really hard-headed about it being my decision not theirs, and smoking when we are together. And I am so feeble that I instantly scrounge a few and join them. So this is also going to impact on my already limited social life, because I just can't sit with people who are smoking and not do it myself. It's going to have to be a case of either they don't smoke or we don't meet. And being at home alone also doesn't help, because I pace around and end up convincing myself that tomorrow is a good time to stop completely. Hahaha.

so hypnotist lady did her stuff this morning. We'll see how it goes, but so far all the techniques aren't even touching sides. Only thing that helped for the day was having the dude here for most of it. And it was another awesome day, mostly.

so no news is just....no news, I guess

pretty much nothing has changed since friday. Sister is still sick, with a tennis ball sized hole in her abdomen, after the wound was cleaned and debrided over the weekend. She reckons that's an improvement on her tummy smelling like a very dead body was lying there, but otherwise it's all pretty grim. And will likely take about 3 months to heal. Ouch.

second job is still highly stressful, and first one is, I reckon going to be an ex one soon. I don't need daily management, but I do need backup, and I'm just not getting it. Which, according to my manager this morning, is just about everyone's fault except his. So fine...reckon I will accept a restrictive contract for now, and see what else is available. I need the money.

And the dude is still wonderful. Friday's dumb questions seem to have gone the way of any serious-type discussion with him - into the ether or wherever things like that go to moulder away. He was here on Sunday, and spent ages doing some house-repair for me, something that was annoying me but that I thought was unfixable. He fixed it. I occupied myself by taking pics of him working, to give me something more to stare at soppily. Including a sweet one of him smiling, and a really sweet one of his butt. Tight focus....hehe.

all around part #2

so this evening is the down bit, I guess. Suppose it has to happen when almost everything is good, just to remind me of how fragile the balance really is.

The second job is still highly stressful. All that I have in my favour is that I told my boss there on Monday that I wasn't good enough to do what they need, although I was willing to try and learn, and also to try find them someone more suitable. Seems though that they want to try the learning bit, because they aren't telling me to piss off yet. I would if I were them, and I keep expecting it every day.

My sister is back in hospital, still really not well. First job is giving me extra uncertainty, and the rehab is alternating between excessive guilt because I can't do what they want and trying to fit in the care for what I'm already looking after.

Have been surviving on my normal fixes - pdoc, girlshrink, Duckbuddy and, more than anything, the dude. The last couple of weeks since the idiot letter, he's been here almost every day, and for much longer visits, and it makes a huge difference to my outlook.

There's an old lawyer's rule though, something about never asking a witness a question that you don't already know the answer to, and today I stepped headfirst into that one. It seemed at the time like a good point to try and see what his view of things is. Not. I asked how long he thought the whole thing with him and me might last for. So he said no idea, and that he doesn't want to think about it. Take it one day at a time and don't make plans. And that if you think about bad things, you can bring them into being.

I don't know if I agree with the last point. Because then you should also be able to bring good things into being, the same way. And I have thought and dreamed and wished so much in the past few months for a future with more of him in it. Ain't happening though, is it. More fool, me...

oh boy

so after another delicious dude-visit, with a fairly good walk, I headed off to new job for the first time. Umm. Could land myself in trouble with this one! What they want most of is the entire sector of my possible job that I have done nothing with in the last 8 years. OK, so when I hit a moment of OMG get me outtahere midway through the afternoon, I went outside, scrounged a smoke and put in some SOS calls to get me a few manuals for the weekend. I now have two huge folders to read through and absorb, plus some take-home work, a fancy laptop and dialup conn to get it done with. Oh bloody boy indeed.

At the same time as I am scaring myself witless with what I seem to have talked myself into, I am also so, so loving it! This is so much who and what I used to be before the demon wolf got his fangs into me. I used to regularly get myself into water that was substantially deeper and warmer than I could handle truthfully, and whenever it got down to crunch-time, I could always put in the effort and mindpower to get myself through it. Then I hit the first major depression, and even in what I've regarded as good times since then, I've never really tested my work ability again.

I have gotten so used to either not trusting myself or to regarding myself as worthless. That view still holds for most things, but in terms of work, I know it shouldn't. This has always been the one area that - if I can keep my self-loathing out of it - I am very capable at. Not through anything I do, it's just the way my weird brain works.

And once again, the motivating factor here is the dude. Just by being around, just by the way he views life - and the way I deeply wish that he views me.... he gives me a kind of bedrock to go out and do stuff from. I want so much for him to see me as competent and successful, and that desire is enough to make me present myself and my skills in a way that I can hardly remember, but that used to be integral to my achievements.

Not saying that I have ever really possessed the beliefs, but that I used to be able to do the 'fake it until you make it' bit in public, even if I then went home and tortured myself over most of it. Last few years though, I haven't even tried most of the time. There just hasn't been any desire to. After all, if I know I am basically a stuff-up, and most other people agree, what's the point in trying to change things? He reminds me of the reasons - the whole wanting to succeed bit, however it happens.

Hit a bit of a low coming home this evening, the standard - I guess - weekend blues for someone who is older and uglier and less-married than the beloved. New territory for me, though. I'd like to think that this is happening because he finds me fascinating and funny and lovable and desirable...the way I feel about him. Friday night blues remind me that that is so laughable and unlikely. But the holdover from the rest of the day is keeping me going with the thought that maybe I can make this continue anyway.

After all, it wouldn't exactly be the first time in human relationships that someone old and ugly has been able to buy the affection of their loved one for a while. Maybe for long enough for some real caring and love to develop.

Guess after the end of a hard week blues, segueing straight into the late night desperate dreams is also kinda standard. And stupid.


"Ain't it hard when you wake up in the morning
And you find out that those other days are gone?
All you have is memories of happiness
Lingerin' on.

You might wonder who can I turn to
On this cold and chilly night of gloom
The answer to that question
Is nowhere in this room.

All your dreams and your lovers won't protect you,
They're only passing through you in the end.
They'll leave you stripped of all that they can get to,
And wait for you to come back again."

Neil Young, 'Star of Bethlehem'

much better

turns out that my sister is allergic to the suture material. How weird is that. So everywhere she had little stitches turned up all swollen and blocked the whole bowel off. New stitches with a different material, and hopefully she'll be fine once she stops hurting from the 6" incision down her stomach. Yay!

and the meeting? Was a relative of a friend making a referral.... a medium size company that needs some contracting done urgently. Nice timing after the upgrade, so it looks as if I'll do a whole whack of hours for the next three weeks, and after that, if we are all happy, it will become a regular contract to tackle specific projects and to try keep the daily stuff happening. Not quite my area of expertise, but close enough that I can probably do all that they need for now. So bonus!! extra expenses are covered for a few months. Heck, I love it when a plan comes together! Even if I hadn't made a plan to begin with...

not good

so sister's surgeon is busy doing more surgery at the moment, after 4 days of her being sick 24/7. I'm really, really scared for her. Trying to sidetrack myself with all sorts of other stuff until she comes out of theatre, although I guess we won't know whether the problem - whatever it might be - is fixed for a while. Think this might be enough to put me off the bypass surgery for a while.

very tense day

my sister, who although also kind of obese, has always been one of the sexiest people I know, decided to have gastric bypass surgery last week. On sunday, after 5 days of recovering well, she started puking and then developed diarrhoea. Seems that there is some post-op complication causing it, and she's been having x-rays every hour or so all day and probably all night too. Prayers for her, please....

in spite of the extra worry, I managed to stick to last night's decision (umm, made after I finished the smokes in the house, roughly 15 for the day...blush) to stop doing the reduction bit and go cold turkey on the cigarettes. No smoking all day - except for 3 tiny tokes on a very tiny joint. Although I did stand outside in the street earlier breathing as deeply as I could because one of the neighbours must have lit their wood fire - it smelt wonderful. Am wondering whether burning food in the oven would also be so delicious to breathe.

sanity for the day was restored by a longish dude visit. Supposed to be constructive surfing, but ended up being a fair bit of bouncing all over the web and looking at all sors of stuff. It is just so comfortable to sit next to him with my head on his shoulder, talking shit and laughing, holding hands and relaxing. WTF...this is the woman who takes a book everywhere, even the toilet, and who can normally not sit still long enough to watch an entire movie...

saturday night movies....

...just been watching the Morgan Spurlock documentary 'Super Size Me'. Scary stuff, even though I routinely avoid fast foods, almost as punishment for myself. I probably have either MacD, KFC or any other take-away about once a month. Doesn't make me any thinner, but I can hope that it at least isn't making me fatter either. It really surprised me to see the dude on thurs having a McFeast for breakfast, and then when I texted him to see if there was anything he wanted for lunch, he asked for another one. Guess it can be done occasionally.

Reading yesterday's post, and Aqua's comment over again...I'm not suicidal. There've been maybe about 5 days in the last four months where I'd have rated myself as there, including last saturday. One of the first signs for me of suicidality is that I stop caring about anything after this life, and all I want is out of it anyway.

What I am though, is kind of accepting. It's not that I would want to die without him, but that it would be almost pointless carrying on. Being with him is what I was made for, be it in this life or another one. With all the circumstances - his marriage, our ages, our histories - I can't really expect too much time with him here and now. What I can do is grasp that time whole-heartedly, and revel in it. And then move on, with the hope and belief that it will happen again, for longer and better. I'm not going to pre-empt anything, not yet. But it doesn't scare me either.

confusion multiplies, and exhaustion is added as a bonus

The exhaustion comes from the tearful weekend added to the re-implementation of the big work upgrade last night, starting at 23h00. Finished, we thought, by 02h00, with a fairly smooth run. Ha, more fools us, because the calls started about half an hour later, and haven't stopped since. The whole applications concept of not testing until it went live, because of a lack of resources is now biting our bums hard. Especially mine. I've basically done nothing all day except fix other people's problems - we tried a brief training session this morning, but gave up after about the 20th call. I think the vision of me trying to do sit-ups and leg raises with a cell phone at my ear, attempting not to pant too loudly while I answered questions was enough to make PT dude shorten the session considerably.

Oh, and probably doesn't need confirming, but between tears and trauma and working all night and day under pressure....the non-smoking is not doing that well. Am still managing to smoke less, but not quite the six that I was meant to limit myself to. Tomorrow...will renew the attempt tomorrow. Good thing is that when I came into the house on saturday, I could smell it, for the first time ever, and actually, it was quite gross. So that gives me hope at least that i will continue this.

this could kill me

but at least i will do it with some honesty....

After driving and crying and thinking and crying and talking to my DuckBuddy and crying and listening to some songs that have messages for me at the moment and crying, I eventually wrote the dude a letter, while I cried a whole lot more. Sent it about two hours ago, and - wow, surprise! - have been crying ever since.

If nothing else, hope he doesn't come here before the tentatively scheduled visit on Sunday, because I've probably cried myself into not having visible eyeballs for most of the day. And post-letter, have been drinking myself into a stupendous hangover, although the oblivion I am trying for remains way out of reach.

Told him I love him. Told him I can't do the lying and deceit bit anymore. Told him I would do just about everything that I can to be able to stand up and be with him, to love him openly, and spend forever with him....

Told him it's his choice as to what happens now. He can walk away, and I will accept that. If not? Then I will fight to have him with me honestly and openly, no matter how long or how hard it might be.

I have an awful dead patch spreading through me as I accept that I will probably never see him again, never hold him or breathe his sweet, unique scent, never make love with him or laugh and joke and talk crap for hours. This isn't an ultimatum that I have any hope of achieving, yet I've given it anyway.

There is no point in a future without him. There is equally little point in a future of loving him endlessly while we pretend that he is just a dude I know, and that everything that has become so crucial to me is...nothing.

I guess by the time I pass out tonight, with as much chemical help as possible, I will still be ripped to bits by this decision. By the time I crash into awakeness again, I will regret it bitterly, and would give almost anything to just be with him in whatever way possibly. So I've made it irrevocable, with what I said, and if/when I lose my dreams, it will be with the last few bits of my integrity.

Fucking joke. Integrity cannot hold me close or give me joy or hope. Integrity is a very cold and empty bed, for a very long time.

I accept full blame for what has happened, and full responsibility for whatever happens next. There is a small, small part of me that has hope, and a small, small part of me that dreams. And a whole lot more that says I have probably just chased away my love, my heart, my everything...

I've always thought that Ruth's words to Naomi were a strange way to feel about your mother in law. As a dedication to your lover, they remain unsurpassed.

"Ruth 1:16-17 (King James Version)

16 And Ruth said, Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God:

17 Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the LORD do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me."

anyone want a yoghurt or fruit or some healthy wholegrain bread...

oh yeah, there's a lot of breakfast crap in the fridge too... he didn't stay round long enough to get to eating that either...

scared witless...

...the dude should be here in the next ten minutes for his first overnight visit. Also, first meal I will have ever given him, and all sorts of other landmarks. I was so scared of planning something that he wouldn't like that I ended up buying the makings for four full suppers (so that he can choose what he wants) and enough breakfast items for an entire hotel buffet. Of course, at the moment I don't know if I could even look at food without my throat closing up. And this is after the 'relaxing' bath I had earlier!

On a more sombre note, foreigners are being attacked, beaten, killed and forced to flee their homes by xenophobic mobs of black south Africans rampaging through the streets in traditionally black areas. So much for ubuntu and the pan-african comradeship. Please pray for the scared and homeless tonight...

catharsis?

about the only good thing about a huge collapse like yesterday's is that it leaves me too drained to get upset about anything for the next few days. Doesn't solve anything though, and doesn't answer any of the questions I have either.

If this carries on, I guess that I will have to try raise some of them with him, which will be just about impossible. Firstly because I am a wuss, and secondly because he is really good at not talking about things if he doesn't want to, and I can't see him wanting to talk much about emotions or the ethics of affairs.

At the moment though, I just don't want to take the chance of losing what I have by trying to find out more. Not yet....

wonderful day

Pdoc appointment was awesome again, laughing and joking, although he was giving me a bit of a hard time about the dude. Not needed, because I am very aware of how involved I have become in such a short time, and how much this is going to hurt eventually. And of course, pdoc is now demanding my meds collection, which I had previously promised to surrender if I ever felt good for longer than a week. The concept of suicide is remote at the moment, but not so remote that I can feel confident about not needing the collection. I guess though, that I did promise it, and he has been fairly reasonable about not forcing me to give it up before. So I will have to give him most of it at the next appt, which is in two weeks. First time that we have progressed from weekly sessions since 2005! And first time that the meds have been stable enough for a monthly script with repeats - for now, we've settled at 175mg Tofranil and 20 mg Inderal (should be 30mg but I keep skipping the midday one accidentally). And a sedative only about once every ten days, and even then, it's down from 2 Ambien to 1/4, mostly. This is so cool!

madagascar....look and weep!

nope, no photo-shop....this is what it looks like!





how cute are lemurs!!



lunch on the beach




one of our homes - view from our room, from the lounge, and -crucial - the bar!



the chameleons are sacred and revered by most Malagasy

one step forward, one step back...

well, the non-smoking bit is going a little slower than anticipated. Cheated a bit yesterday, and then went for dinner with one of my best buddies and her husband who have just reconciled after what looked like it would be an acrimonious split. And they both smoke, so of course I had a few as well. Got home, was eyeing the garden for possible leaves to light...and remembered seeing my 15 year old dope stash, so rooted that out and had a joint, my first in at least 7 years! OK, so the stuff was somewhat dusty, and not that pleasant to smoke - but it still has a kick....I ended up chowing popcorn and an entire packet of lettuce leaves before the munchies wore off!

Today was a bit better until I rear-ended a truck about two blocks from home, in rush hour traffic on the main road. Kind of made my pick-up a bit shorter on the left, and thoroughly disabled it. So while I waited for a tow-truck, I decided that tonight was so not a good time not to smoke, and bought a packet of an obnoxious brand - gave half to a street guy, and am puffing away on the rest.

I will still do this - from about 50 to less than 10 is a good start, and I will keep it going. Maybe though, it will take longer than a day to train myself away from 28 years of bad habit. For the dude though, it will be worth doing...

oh, and a PS....

...that thing I said about pigeons breeding all year round? Yeah, well they also do stupid things like have close contact with dogs and cars and cats all year too. On Saturday I had a bird-free house (although that excludes the well-stocked aviary and the equally well-stocked roof), with my last three babies having been palmed off on another mad-woman (sorry....volunteer) for two weeks. By the time I eventually got home tonight just after 8pm, I had reclaimed the three waifs, and managed to accumulate another 6 ranging from teeny-tiny-don't have eyeballs yet up to adult-but lost half my tail/wing/bum feathers to a dog.....
God it's good to be home!!

Home is the sailor, home from the sea

title is from 'Requiem' by Robert Louis Stevenson, also used by A.E. Housman.

so, back from a two week holiday with absolutely no communication with anyone more than 5 feet away from me....apart from a non-stop wish to know that my animals were all ok and a similar desire to talk/touch/breathe the dude, it was awesome! I haven't been completely away since the beginning of 2005, and that was only for 4 days. Even in hospital, I've always been available to work, and able to keep in touch with the rest of my life. So the incommunicado bit took some getting used to. It wasn't really planned that way, but for one reason or another, comms just didn't happen, and guess what - the rest of my world survived just fine!

Madagascar is amazing, and I'm definitely planning on a return trip when finances allow. It's damn expensive for someone who is earning in SA Rands, although I'd guess it's very reasonable for euro or dollar comparisons. People were lovely, wildlife was awesome, food was superb (and the rum drinks not too bad either!!), we did lots of snorkelling the first week and lots more scuba-diving the second. My lower legs and arms are deliciously brown, but I managed to keep the rest of me from being crispy-fried in the sun. Have experienced every known kind of salt/heat/sweat rash and served as the buffet table for what felt like the entire population of indigenous insects. Fell in love with lemurs; swam with dolphins, sharks and turtles; played 'nemo' with huge schools of cartoon-coloured fish; bought a whole heap of tshirts and all kinds of hand-made souvenirs....had fun! Will post some of the pics tomorrow.

And tomorrow as well - yay!yay!yay! - I get to see the dude again, for what sounds like it will be a suitably passionate reunion. He was also hinting on the phone earlier that he has some possible plans that will allow him a lot more time here with me, which he'll tell me more about tomorrow. It makes me really nervous too, because this isn't supposed to have become anything serious. It has though, for me, and I am so scared of getting even more involved than I already am. I still have no idea of how he really feels - and don't think I ever will - and I honestly can't see it ever turning out well in the longer term. But for now, whatever his motives are, if it means more time spent with him....I will do whatever I can to make that happen.

yay. holiday. bah f-ing humbug.

so if the title doen't give you the idea that I am not particularly looking forward to the impending vacation, let me just expand. I. DO NOT. WANT. AT ALL. to go away tomorrow morning for two weeks. There just hasn't been enough prep time, enough laid-back go get forex/make birdie arrangements/sort out household stuff/sort out work/sort out entire f-ing life before taking two weeks away with - as far as I can see - no comms whatsoever. No cell phone, no email, no net, And with someone who has rapidly progressed from being my best friend and ideal holiday-partner to the person I am most likely to drown while we scuba-dive around beautiful coral reefs. Seriously.

Tdoc was the one who kicked my butt into planning at this. At the time, I had no desire to do it either, but figured it would theoretically be a good thing, and planned it around IT-work and rehab-work and last couple of weeks of summer etc etc. And what I was most scared of was two whole weeks with no pdoc, no tdoc and no household routine.

Since then, routine has gone for a ball of chalk anyway, have recollected that pigeons breed all year round so there is never a good time to be gone from a birdie POV, and re-re-re-understood that from an IT work perspective, DBAs should never sleep or do anything that might reduce the 24/7/365 availability - never mind a two week break.

The mood has been good enough that the lack of therapeutic contact was almost ok - until the last few stressful days of organising - but what I hadn't known then was that by now I would be head-over-heels way deep in a pointless futureless romantic entanglement. Which, regardless of future options, I really really don't want to leave for an entire two weeks right now. The very small sensible voice says that just the not wanting to be away from him concept should be making me run for the borders. That small voice though is completely overwhelmed by the rest of me.

And added to that is the really bad circumstancial stuff that has meant a serious lack of bed-time the past two weeks. Affection yes, rampant sex....no. I was really depending on at least today for a bit, and after an entirely frustrating and time-wasting arbitrary day where I ended up crying at least once an hour because of no-brain, idiotic lack of cooperation from the gods, that was stuffed up at the last hurdle. FFFUUUUUCCCCKKK. Or not, I guess...

Been crying for the last 7.5 hours, since a very curtailed and way too un-physical contact. Knowing that it is totally stupid and pointless doesn't mean dipshit to the 15-year-old hormones that are raging around my body at the moment. Shit. Don't think I ever even felt this deprived and victimised when I was 15.



"Turn around, every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you're never coming round
Turn around, every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears
Turn around, every now and then I get a little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by
Turn around, every now and then I get a little bit terrified and then I see the look in your eyes
Turn around, bright eyes
Every now and then I fall apart
Turn around, bright eyes
Every now and then I fall apart
And I need you now tonight
And I need you more than ever
And if you only hold me tight
We'll be holding on forever
And we'll only be making it right
Cause we'll never be wrong
Together we can take it to the end of the line
Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time
I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark
We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks
I really need you tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight

Once upon a time I was falling in love
But now I'm only falling apart
There's nothing I can do
A total eclipse of the heart
Once upon a time there was light in my life
But now there's only love in the dark
Nothing I can say
A total eclipse of the heart
Turn around, bright eyes
Every now and then I fall apart
Turn around, bright eyes
Every now and then I fall apart
And I need you now tonight
And I need you more than ever
And if you only hold me tight
We'll be holding on forever
And we'll only be making it right
Cause we'll never be wrong
Together we can take it to the end of the line
Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time
I don't know what to do, I'm always in the dark
We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks
I really need you tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight
Forever's gonna start tonight

Once upon a time I was falling in love
But now I'm only falling apart
Nothing I can say
A total eclipse of the heart
A total eclipse of the heart

Bonnie Tyler (1983) 'total eclipse of the heart'

sad movie of the day

so one of the things that PT dude has got me started on is downloading movies to watch on the PC. Most of his choices tho' have me howling myself silly when I watch them, even tho' they are all really good movies.

Tonight's choice was Guardian, with Kevin Costner and Ashton Kutcher. Brilliant film, but by the end I was yelling at it 'not to let him die! Please don't let him die!'....which didn't make any difference of course. Still crying....

Oh yeah, the music is by a famous South African - Trevor Rabin, lead singer of the hottest SA rock band of the '70s, Rabbitt.

sublime. ridiculous. whatever....

A couple of naps (and some serious comfort food to encourage those) and I appeared at work 90 seconds before our start time, having done a bit of low-flying with the music at full volume and playing the most wiring songs I have - so I sat down with blood pounding and just so, so on form. Didn't help. There is a serious system flaw somewhere, and 6 hours later I snailed home after we'd tried every last devious trick before backing out. Bummer. Bigtime bummer.

Today was a bit of a loss consequently. Did the feeds & fetches, the post-mortem mails, the grasp at straws flights of brainpower...and of course some serious naps. Now, of course, having deliberately stuffed my body clock yesterday for work, I am wiiiiidddde awake and ready to do it all again. Nope. This is what sedatives were invented for - have given sleep some encouragement with a good dinner, couple of drinks, the silliest movie I have seen since Wayne's World first appeared - it's about 95% in Afrikaans, so no-one out of SA (or Holland) would understand it - and now, meds, bed, sleep and sweet sweet dreams....

wipe-out

I know I am tense about the upgrade, even though I know deep down that it will either be A1 cool and smooth, or if it isn't, between me and other-contractor, we are more capable than anyone else could be at making it work.

But still. Guess part of what leads eventually to me being good is that I have - and am - sweating badly over this as part of my prep. When I saw pdoc on Thu, we were talking about life, the universe and everything... which I have been revelling in doing for the last couple of weeks. He is so, so smart and funny...and it brings out the best of the corresponding bits in me. And I love feeling like that. So on thu, can't remember what led up to it, but we were talking about work and upgrade and stress, and he asked me something, and the answer was that whatever it was would be cool 'because basically I am so damn good at this'.

He stopped there. Looked at me for a long time, and said that that was the first time he had ever heard me say something complimentary about myself. Maybe that is something to think about some other time.

For now, though, Thu was great, Fri was wake up way early to start a test at 05h30, do good stuff with that, nap in the bath, see PT dude and have a great training session, do some more stuff and then have an afternoon nap. Amazing day, until I woke up crying after the nap and haven't managed to stop yet. No reason. None.

Guess that if nothing else, this is reassurance that it's not only the dude that is causing the good bits. He was wonderful on Friday, and is coming over tomorrow (very unusually, but I have a suspicion that it's because he knows that work is getting to me a bit...), being just as sweet and kind as he has been for the past two months. And if I can hit the wall with him still being around, it gives me hope that it is the meds that are really making the difference. Which is way more reliable than loving someone.

I had a brief dive at 125mg Tofranil, and then got the good mood back at 150mg. So emailed pdoc on fri night to ask about 175mg, and he said to go with it - maybe I am being too sensitive to things, but I really, really don't want to let the dragons start chewing on me again right now. Not when I am having the best month in so many long long years. So holding thumbs that however bad today has been, and knowing that tomorrow is likely to be a 10-puke day and night (my uncontrollable reaction to upgrades and stress like that is to run off and puke every 30 mins or so...), between the dude and the meds....and maybe just a bit of being not too awful at what I do....maybe I can have the feeling good bit back again this coming week.

grrr.....

so there was a google search that ended up here today on 'big bad wolf sex'. Oh yeah baby.... We haven't gotten round to furry disguises and chewing on each other's necks for foreplay yet, but maybe I should suggest it. Everything else we do is awesome still....

so stupid...so sweet

I still don't really understand what's happening. Chicken or the egg? Did the Tofranil work because I was getting involved with the dude. Or did it move from just being excellent sex to kind of being in love because the Tofranil was making me feel so much more alive. Guess the only way to find out would be to take one of them away, and I'm not going to do that until it's absolutely unavoidable.

He is unreadable, unknowable, and sometimes quite strange. He is completely unlike anyone I have ever known before, and even more unlike anyone that I have ever been attracted to. He is nothing that I have ever wanted in the past ... and everything that I want right now. It is completely unworkable, yet it seems to just happen so easily. There can't be any future but I would live in this moment for ever if I could. I cry a lot at the moment even though I am so overwhelmingly happy almost all the time. And ultimately I know that this is going to hurt me more than anything I have let happen in the last 15 years, but I wouldn't undo a single moment of what has happened so far.

Shit. Getting old is way more confusing than being a teenager. At least then you could still hope that you'd grow out of feeling like this....

time to dig in and work...

...before the upgrade that I have to implement next Sunday. Unfortunately, my concentration is totally shot - and it's all the dude's fault. He visited esterday, for what turned out to be lots of cuddling but not much more. And left me in a state of extremely libidinous turmoil.

Needless to say, not much work has been done, and a whole lot of daydreaming about the dude has taken place instead....tomorrow, I MUST work tomorrow.

all the action

so, for a day with not much planned apart from pdoc and duckbuddy for coffee, it kind of filled up quickly. Slow start, then DB finagled me into coffee before pdoc as well as after. Good thing, because although we managed a quick one after as well, it was shortened by three unplanned bird calls - three pigeon babies to start with. The lady had mentioned they were on a ledge...what she left out though was that the ledge was three floors up. I am so, so not fond of heights, particularly when they are combined with narrow things to crawl along. Followed by the 4th rescue of a baby mynah from the same damn balcony! In a year, roughly, the same set of parents have been careless enough to let 4 babies fall off the same roof. Which wouldn't be so bad, as they are very keen to keep caring for their mislaid offspring. Unfortunately though, they aren't willing to let anyone work in any of the offices along that side of the building and keep attacking the windows whenever anyone tries. Mikey was the first of them, and he is the smartest, funiest, cutest bird I have ever seen, so hopefully his siblings turn out just as gorgeous. And then a quick pickup of a bird who is currently reminding me with plaintive shrieks that they are nocturnal and can yell all night, and home to PT dude. He'd had a really bad morning, but between me and one of my cats who finds him almost as nice as I do, he was feeling a bit more cheerful whne he left. I, on the other hand, was still dripping sweat and wobbly-legged from a really good workout. I'd just sat down to enjoy the first post-training smoke, when I got an urgent call to collect a baby vervet monkey with a broken leg, and take him through to the monkey-lady. So...a full day of adventure!

Best bit of course - well apart from the dude bit - was seeing pdoc. Third appointment in a row that I got to walk in smiling, so he figures he should retire while the going is good. It was another cool appt, with about 5 mins on mood and meds, and the rest of it just talking shit and enjoying it. He is still the man I most enjoy mentally, especially when I am feeling good and can trade wicked remarks with him - although I know he is way more intelligent than me, I can come back quickly enough to make him laugh as well. Only bad bit though, is that if this mood lasts for a while longer (and I really, really want that), it will also mean not seeing him weekly either. If I compare though, seeing someone I enjoy for half an hour a week versus feeling great for every day instead...no contest, the mood wins hands down. Shit, I love this feeling!!

hey-y-y

- what can I say? I feel alive for the first time in so very long. I'm not accomplishing much apart from work and training and spending time with the dude. But I wake up in the mornings, and my first blurry thought isn't 'oh fuck I wish I hadn't woken up..'. That is just so, so amazing - even if I don't get much done, it is just so, so good to not being doing it anyway!

so it's either the Tofranil or the dude...either way, it's awesome

balancing act

so the past two weeks have been the best since 2004. Which is a long, long time. Coincidentally, the past seven weeks (and yep, I am counting!) have been the first time since ex-BF was murdered in 2004 that I have had any kind of a sex-life. The depression dug in before that, which was probably the only reason I have remained celibate for so long.

And while the intellectual bit of me is watching this all with a bemused grin, every other bit is wriggling around like an overjoyed puppy. It has been so damn long since I felt this good, and really, whatever is the cause, if it can just stick around for a while...please?

I figure it's kind of a combination result. The dude and the Tofranil together. Neither meds nor loving someone have been enough on their own in the past three years, but at the moment, the mix is working. And it is just so f-ing awesome....

oh dear...

....am starting to reach the very unwelcome conclusion that any mood improvements might well have more to do with the dude than the meds. Basing that on my complete subsidence this morning when he didn't appear as expected. Don't need that, don't want it, don't think I can handle it at all well. This is so not supposed to be happening... he is not even remotely close to any of the things that I am attracted to in a man. Even so, when I do something as innocuous as running my hand over his arm, when I put my face against his neck and just breath in the scent of his skin, when he almost absent-mindedly touches me anywhere while he is concentrating on something and there is a sharp almost painful reaction from every bit of my body from the toes upwards....sheeit. And that's not even going anywhere near how awesome it feels by the time we get to anything close to bed....

On the other hand, I increased the Tofranil on Sat - so maybe it is that instead. God, I hope so...

"You do something to me
something deep inside
I'm hanging on the wire
for a love I'll never find
You do something wonderful
chase it all away
mixing my emotions
throws me back again

Hanging on the wire yeah
said I'm waiting for the change
Dancing through the fire
just to catch a flame
feel real again

Hanging on the wire yeah
said I'm waiting for the change
Oh I'm dancing through the fire
just to catch a flame
to feel real again

You do something to me
somewhere deep inside
Hoping to get close to
a peace I cannot find

Dancing through the fire
just to catch a flame
Just to get close to
just close enough
To tell you that.....

You do something to me - oh, something deep inside"
Paul Weller, 'you do something to me'

too good to last

unfortunately.

at least I am still doing the work bit - after 12-15 hours since weds, I am about a quarter of the way through it. And seeing as it's from home, no-one except the animals cares that I cry solidly for most of it.

guess three glorious days is more than last years great big zero. Fucking loser...

finally!

I got my ass halfway into gear, and started on the work that I have been avoiding for the last month. It's cutting it fine, because I have about a trillion hours to do within the next two weeks, followed by a whole lot more immediately before we upgrade. And seeing as I selected the date, it can't be weaseled out of. I've also realised again that working during daylight just doesn't happen. Too many little birds to feed. Too many calls about other little birds. I can't turn my phone off - I'm not really allowed to for work, and feel too guilty about birds anyway - and I can't ignore calls for long. At the same time, I don't want to encourage my nocturnal habits; it's all too easy to slip into staying up all night and being the walking dead for the days.

The work-attack comes along with being absolutely terrified to admit that for three days now, I haven't cried. Haven't been suicidal. Haven't counted my OD pill stash.
FUCK!!! I feel fragile as all hell, but I don't feel like I want to die before I even wake up. Not sure if it's the Tofranil or getting laid regularly - I'm hoping it's the meds, because they're a lot more available and certain than any ongoing dude input would be. For now though, that still goes well. Scratch well...make it amazingly. I have no idea why, figure that I'm not even going to try to understand it, but he is still absolutely doing it for me. I look at him and find myself getting this little smirk on my face as I wonder how soon I can get his clothes off.
He is becoming more and more cuddly too, which I really enjoy. This ain't love, or anything serious at all, but it just feels so damn good for now.

if you are feeling generous...

...have a look at this blog, Novi Sad Cats. One woman with a mission, and some good friends in other places, doing what she can to make a difference. I know there are always many in need - and in our own countries too - but I am really touched by this story. So often, in wars and natural disasters, the forgotten ones are the domestic animals whose owners may be dead or displaced. In a country like Serbia which has been so bitterly fought over for so long, I believe that making a difference to the animals also makes a difference to the people; that it's an investment in hope for the future...

So if you have a few dollars to spare, contact Dzeilana - her address is at the bottom of the page - and maybe make some Novi Sad cats happy.

hangin' in

....almost the end of a long, long week. Taking new meds, skipping the vodka, keeping my head below the parapet. I feel bruised and tired, and have a vague feeling that hospital might have been a good idea - just not feasible at the moment, though. Too many birds, too much work, too complicated to try set it up. I know; if I got hit by a bus it would have to happen....but anything short of that, just can't do it. Instead, am arranging to take two weeks off next month, after major work project part #1 goes live, and when baby bird season is tailing off a bit.

Meanwhile, I ricochet from tdoc to pdoc to the dude, setting new lows in my inability to communicate. Pdoc of course, is having great fun with the whole dude affair, which I can understand - it's the first time he's seen me being led by the gonads, and it's appealing to his wicked sense of humour. This week, he leant back, gave me the very serious appraising look, and asked whether I thought orgasms could be an effective treatment for depression. I said yes, if they could last for a whole lot longer. Well, he says straight-faced, there was a guy who was studying that, but he went off to do some research and has never returned....

The dude himself continues to mystify me, confuse me and generally just complicate my life. One day soon (I hope) this will wear off, and I will be even more on guard against being blindsided like this. For now though, even his name is enough to get me hot and bothered - the way he feels...his scent...yo!, 'nuff said.

mental marathon

the past three days. I am exhausted, and in fact have been sleeping on my desk for the last two hours. Had to wake up long enough to do a small bit of work, and am going to be asleep again very shortly. Yesterday was the worst I have been in ages because for some reason there was just so much tension mixed in. By about 2 a.m. I was seriously thinking of taking a timeout and just crawling into a hospital bed for a few days. By this morning though, arranging that was just beyond my organisational ability, and I chickened out.

However the miserable message from the early hours was still on the answering machine, so pdoc's office lady called, and after I'd finished sobbing on her shoulder, he sent a script for the next candidate up for wonder drug of the decade. Tofranil, which is one of a very short list that we haven't tried in the past three years. God, I really really hope that this is going to be the one that works.....

stupid, stupid, stupid

- wish I could say that last night was cathartic, but not quite. It was about the only diversion, give it that. And at least it transmuted enough so that I eventually went to bed and slept. Not enough though for any more than that. Probably because it was contained at three tidy slices, little enough that I can lie with a straight face about accidental injury. Little enough that someone could pretend to believe me. If they wanted to. Not enough, though, to stop hurting.

Pdoc rags me about being the neat-freak of SI. And I am, although in every other way I am anything but tidy. Not something I am proud of, but it is just the way it is, and the only way that it helps. The cutting is one of the things that has always made me worry about personality disorders, although pdoc reckons not. I've cut sporadically since I was 15, but only in the last few years has it been anywhere that would be routinely visible. Then it was what pdoc calls the Team Adidas logo on my left forearm, and I ripped shit out of that over and over. Still, it is tidy enough that most people will believe - or pretend to - the story about the iguana capture.

That was one of the things that finally let me trust pdoc completely - he didn't make a huge fuss about it, didn't act like it was the end of everything. Just looked, said that at least I was keeping it clean and not in need of any medical attention, and let it be. In turn, I feel that I can tell him when it happens. He understands that it's some unspecified combination of absolute misery and tension, and that I can't anticipate it. There are times where I am so depressed that breathing is a triumph and I don't cut, and times where I am really stressed but don't do it either. And then, shit....get the wrong mix and out come the razor blades. He laughs at that too, that it has to be a blade. At one time I tried not keeping any in the house - after I ended up driving to a really shady area when I could barely stand because I was so wasted, but it was just such an overwhelming need.... I figured that at least if I allow myself to keep one perfect blade, I can sometimes get past it by just watching the blade for a while. Maybe stroking it. Maybe do enough of the ritual preparation. Sometimes it is enough.

Sometimes it's not.


"your jacket,
hanging in my cupboard
has the scent of laughter
- often, I press my face to its softness"
(jcat, 1981)

so I have to boast about this one....

- although she has obviously only just handed in the assignment for which we were blundering about in the dark in strange places yesterday, DuckBuddy got back the results today from her first few assignments. She cracked 100% on three of the five, and others were in 90's. Way higher than anyone else on the course. Perfectionism is rewarded..... although she doesn't see it, she is so talented and smart and funny. I still don't understand why she would want to be friends, but I am glad that she does....

I told pdoc about the early hours shoot with me as bodyguard, which he kind of snickered about and said that the only difference that that would make is two murders instead of one - I've obviously never shown him my fierce/tough/musclebound impression. Then he went off on one of his tangents, and says that having found DB and I dead in the gardens, the only obvious link between us would be him, and he'd have to explain to the cops why two of his patients were murdered at dawn, and he'd probably be had up before the medical council to explain it to them as well... Shit, things like that just make me wish even more that I could get better. He's just about never seen me when it's good. I've never been able to share me being quick and funny, and I would so much like to be able to. Irreverence and wordplay and wicked humour is such a part of who I am. Double-shit. I say 'who I am' so glibly. Guess it should be 'who I used to be', although I can still slip on that cloak to disguise me sometimes. Could possibly do it with him too, but if I start the camouflage...it would be too easy to keep on hiding. And I want that person back for real, I want to feel like that when I leave a place too. Not to feel myself deflate as the hot air hisses out and I drive home alone crying because it is just so tiring being the walking talking marionette shadow of what I used to take for granted....

of mad ducks and umm...guess it makes me mad too...

so Duckbuddy the perfectionist wasn't happy with the photographs she took for her course on Friday, and wanted to redo them. The assignment involved all sorts of things at the local botanical gardens starting just before sunrise. Now on Friday, there was a whole classful of students running around at dawn - she was planning on going on her own. With an armful of expensive cameras. In the dark. To a place known for its many muggings, although I don't know how early the muggers start work. I wasn't keen on her going on her own, so said I'd come with. At 05h00 in the morning... which makes me just as mad as she is.

Unfortunately, yesterday the dude couldn't get here because of car issues, so I ended up going over to see him at work. Once again, not quite sure why. No training, no canoodling - well, not much, not nearly enough - and we just sat around talking about nothing much for an hour or so. I ended up meeting a friend for a few drinks, racing home 3 hours later to mynah-mommy coming to fetch the visiting bird....many more drinks before I got her to leave at midnight. After which I cooked supper and hit the net for a while, and slept somewhere around 02h00, not nearly enough hours before a cheerful Duck was on the phone to wake me up.

We went there, climbed through a hole in the fence, tripped over all sorts of wires and chains, fumbled around in the dark, and she had her camera set up ten minutes before there was enough light for it to even register. I'm not sure that I was much use as a bodyguard, because every time she set up a shot I sat down on the nearest paving and went to sleep. Goes without saying that most of the day was a write-off while I slept in the bath and at my desk.

No dude today either, but a couple of sweet text messages from him just in time to head off the severely morbid mood in favour of just majorly depressed. If nothing else, this is a good reminder of why I avoid relationships - god knows what being with someone I loved would do to me, if this is how it feels to have a bit of casual fun....

What Love Does - Duet with Ross Learmonth
(Music: Jaco Spies Lyrics: Jaco Spies, Lienka, Ilne Muller, sample MP3 at
Lienka's website

Do you know what the world is all about?
Do you know what the world is all about?
I'm not afraid to die, at all

Do you know what the world is all about? (What makes it different than the stars in the heavens above?)
Do you know what the world is all about? (What makes it different than the stars?)
I'm not afraid to die, at all

'Cause this is what love does to me
I fear not to bleed
Yes this is what love does to me
I'm down on my knees

Do you know how to find what was left behind?
Do you know how to find the rainbow's gold?
You'll always see me try, until the day I die

'Cause this is what love does to me
I fear not to bleed
Yes this is what love does to me
I'm down on my knees

I'm not afraid to try, I don't even know why
The love that we shared wasn't always black and white
And what I know to be true may mean nothing to you
The only virtue is the one between two

allegory

so you are sitting alone at home one day, and the phone rings. It's the magazine subscription service, and they say that your Aunty Ethel has given you a gift of a years free subscription to XYZ magazine. You are about to tell them that you have never even read XYZ, and you don't have an Aunty Ethel either, when you suddenly think 'wait...they don't know where to send it to, but they think it should be sent to me. For a while, at no cost...' and instead you say 'oh cool, my address is ABC'....

a few weeks pass, and you are really enjoying getting XYZ, which you haven't ever bought before. You feel a little bit bad about it, because after all, Aunty Ethel is paying for it to be sent to her favourite niece. But not so bad that you are going to call up and tell the subscriptions dept that there has been a mistake. You read XYZ from cover to cover every week, and every week you discover a really special column, or a really interesting article, and you think to yourself that you are really lucky, because you could never afford this at the regular cover price....

so you are sitting alone at home one day, and the phone rings. It's the local branch of the mafia, to say that you have been taking their favourite niece's copy of XYZ every week. Even though you know it was never meant for you, and no...it doesn't make any difference that you felt bad about it. Because you have had many, many days in which to call up and give them the right details, and you have never done it. Every week, you have justified it by thinking that the niece obviously isn't missing it, that between her and Aunty E they don't seem to appreciate the mag anyway, that if they'd like, you can return all the copies you have been sent so far, and no harm done...

and the dude on the phone laughs, and tells you that it is way too late for that. If you were going to be honest, the time is long past. If you meant no harm, it is also irrelevant. If you think that your punishment is to never get the magazine again, to never know the end of the story that they print a chapter from every week, to miss reading your favourite bits every day....? He laughs again, and tells you that you are going to hurt way, way, way more than that. Forever....

to uga visitor?

disclaimer.....I don't routinely check ISPs (which is as detailed as it gets), but I do check search terms. You were looking for info on mousebirds and liver disease.... please contact Kateri Davis at Davis-Lund Aviaries in California. They breed mousies, and she is about the world's best on mousebird raising and keeping. The only point she loses out on....is she hasn't seen that much of them living wild! Hey, you guys in the US have enough advantages - us Africans have to keep a few. Mousebirds in our gardens....elephants in the back yard....lions on the streets downtown...
Seriously though. If you need info on anything to do with mousies of whatever species, she's the lady who really knows everything!

nothing....

nothing much said
nothing happened
just....nothing.

Came over today. Didn't seem much like wanting to train. Didn't want sex. I don't even know why he came here at all. So we sat around a bit, had coffee, downloaded a movie he wanted. And then he left. I managed to not start crying until after that, but I guess I haven't really stopped since. Guess too that I'd kind of forgotten why exactly I've been celibate for so long.

"..Till fortune found a girl who fanned a flame he thought had died
Whose burning beauty cut him like a knife.
She touched him through the senses that his mind could not control.
Then smiling stepped aside and watched him fall.
Betrayed by his own body and the hunger in his soul
Duvalier was a dreamer after all"
(Kris Kristofferson, Duvalier's Dream)