CARPE DIEM

Ever since I watched 'Christopher and His Kind' on BBC2 recently I've had the words 'Carpe Diem' stuck in my head. Had to Google it at first just to remind myself what it actually meant. I sort of knew, but wasn't sure. Seize The Day. Enjoy the moment. I really need this on a post-it note stuck on my mirror to remind me that life is for living. If an opportunity to 'live' comes my way I should take it, cherish it and above all enjoy it.

THERE'S NO LAUGHTER IN THE GARDEN

I've been in therapy for 11 years. Sometimes it helps - Sometimes it doesn't. Today it isn't.

I've never really thought much of myself as a person. I know I'm not particularly attractive. I'm not the slimmest of people you'll ever meet. I have no career or am anything anyone would aspire to be but I've always tried to do my best by people, treat people the way I'd want someone to treat me as a friend and give them 100% loyalty whilst being as honest as I could be, in return. To me that always seemed enough and I guess for some it is, as I have some of the most amazing friends anyone could ever hope for. Some not so great, but that's all part of the 'selection box' that is friendship, not everyone has to be the same and you can connect with people on so many different levels of closeness. I must be doing something right to have such close friends in my life, surely.

But why can't I like myself? All the therapy, friends and self-help books all clearly state that if you can't like yourself then how can you expect anyone else to? But It's hard. I blame myself for a lot of my past, even though, clearly when problems started I was too young to even know it was wrong or know how to stop it, I just went along with it because that's all I knew. It didn't feel anything out of the norm. By the time I realised I needed help I was too scared to ask anyone and in turn started punishing myself and suffering in silence when life wasn't 'fun' anymore, when it really started to hurt. When I don't face up to things I can get by. I know things are there that need dealing with, in the corner of the room and I can just sort of see them from the corner of my eye but if I don't acknowledge them, if I look the other way then maybe, just maybe I can have a good day and get through it without the constant need to punish myself.

Sometimes I don't want to be here. I often fantasise how much easier it would be for people, how happier they'd be had no-one ever known me or had the burden that is Dave Starmer forced upon their shoulders. If I'd never tried to kill myself or been forced to have therapy then I wouldn't have to face my past, I could have carried on and left it behind untouched. I tolerated things for a very long time until I actually had the guts to attempt to take my own life originally. That's where it all started to go wrong, when people saw I wasn't coping and wasn't this 'bubbly happy-chappy' anymore. I felt vulnerable and exposed though, now people could see I wasn’t coping and it was dangerous because they’d want to know why. It's looking back and going through it all again that constantly brings me down, that's what I'm doing in therapy (when the session isn't cancelled, that is.) It seems positive in theory to address the past but once you’ve started you can’t stop, it’s out of your hands and that's fine whilst you're in the comfort of the therapy room but when the session ends and you're coming home to an empty house, where is the support then? You can't put that kind of burden onto friendships, even the strongest of friendships would suffer under such a weight, as has been proven in the past. Everything I've touched in the past I've tainted. Friendships, Relationships... All soured by past/constant unwanted emotions and my need to feel something, to feel like I was worth something. To feel wanted. For someone I care about to care about me just as much and not want to leave when the going gets tough or the 'smiles' fade, because they do fade eventually.

I don't feel any of that. I can't feel anything positive at times. I'm just here, screaming to feel something I can hold onto that’ll get me through the day, that’ll make me want to get out of bed of a morning. On occasion I've hurt myself just to feel something. Anything to distract me from this horrible fucked-up existence I'm being kept in against my will. If there was a pain-free way to do it, to end things by just switching a switch after saying ‘Goodbye’ then I would do it. If that day ever happens you can hate me for it all you like but I'll be free and I won’t care.

MIRROR / MAGNIFYING GLASS

According to Susan Jeffers you must "Pick up the Mirror instead of the Magnifying Glass."

The magnifying glass represents our symbolically pointing a finger and blaming someone for our unhappiness. When we blame someone we, by definition, add to the negativity that lies within the relationship with this person. We also feel helpless when we think our happiness depends on someone else, we give away all our power. So not only does our relationship with a particular person suffer, we personally suffer as well.

The mirror is our antidote to blame. It represents our looking inward and taking responsibility not only for our actions, but also for our reactions to what we are doing – or not doing – to make ourselves unhappy. Ultimately, it is by looking into the mirror that we are able to pick up our power and discover what we personally need to do in order to change what isn’t working. The mirror is our key to controlling our own happiness.

*picks up mirror and smashes it over said persons head*

I don’t know about you, but I feel better already.

THE NOT-SO BUSY BEE

Busy week ahead. Dentist Monday. Lunch with the girls on Tuesday. Vajazzle on Wednesday... huh? WAIT! This isn't my diary. *throws it down* Oh... Looks like my week isn't as eventful as I thought. *stares at empty pages*

Actually I do have a few things planned this week, none of which could be classed as the social event of the year. I've got therapy tomorrow. (Assuming Marmalade doesn't cancel.) Have to make a decision about going back onto the medication or not. Ideally not, but sometimes it's just too hard to face stuff without that little shuv into the outside world. I was doing really well, but sometimes I wonder whether it's worth all the misery when I could just take the edge off things and deal with the world through prozac-coloured glasses. Life is shit. Prozac sprays that little gentle wiff of Febreze over the smell. Oh and I'm going to Makro on Wednesday.

I MUST NOT BUY SWEETS.

I MUST NOT BUY SWEETS.

I MUST NOT BUY SWEETS.

I MUST NOT BUY SWEETS.

I MIGHT BUY SWEETS.

I MIGHT BUY SWEETS.

I MIGHT BUY SWEETS.

AHH FUCK IT...

WE ALL KNOW I'LL BUY SWEETS.

SOMETHING BORROWED

Michael shared this piece of writing with me the other day and I wanted to share it with you. I felt it was quite a powerful piece, something I'm sure some of us could relate to. I don't know who originally wrote it and I'm not sure if he does either, but here it is:

"I’m a liar because I won't tell you everything. I’m stupid because sometimes i'm wrong. I’m ugly because my face isn’t perfect. I’m a pushover because I like making people happy. I’m a loser because I’m not friends with your group. I’m fake because I’m too nice. I’m weird because I’m not like you. I’m fat because I eat when I’m hungry. I’m clingy because I don’t like to be alone. I’m insecure because I care about what people think of me. I’m no fun because I'm not always hyper. Don’t try to tell me who I am because i already know."

Pretty powerful stuff.

HAPPY DAZE

I feel broken inside. My outer skin containing thousands of broken pieces, damaged goods, forever on the shelf because nobody wants a broken body. I'd do anything to be held right now, to have someone hold me in their arms and make me feel safe like 'he' used to. A hug so tight all I could feel was his support, safe from the outside world, knowing I meant something to someone. No-one has held me like that since he did. Might as well be a lifetime ago as the memory of it is forever fading. I remember his warmth and his concern and him holding me so tightly I thought he'd never let go. He really meant it, it felt like he really wanted to protect me. I'd never felt so loved as I did that night, even though it was our last.

UNCLE DAVE

I'm going to be an Uncle again. Kev and Rachel are expecting their third baby in November. Horrah.

I was going through old photos of the kids earlier and it's hard to believe that Leah will be 5 in May. Where HAS the time gone? It certainly doesn't seem five years since Leah was born and Dylan will be 2 in June.





They grow up so fast.



Maybe now would be a good time to charge an hourly rate for babysitting. *wink*

SOMETIMES I WONDER

Too much negative energy is definitely a bad thing. I haven't blogged in what feels like a lifetime. Instead I've been keeping a handwritten journal, but in doing so, knowing I'm the only person who would be reading it, I'm posting more and more negative entries as the year goes on and that's not what I intended to do. Reading some of them back to myself is cringeworthy, seriously. Sure there will be days when I feel down and the negative thoughts/comments will come flooding out, that's fine and probably just as theraputic but I think knowing this is online and maybe one or two people might eventually see it will hopefully contain some of the negative crap and I'd be drawn to more positive inspiration for writing. Writing things down whether it's good or bad definitely helps me. I'm still going to be keeping my diary. I'm getting alot from it just jotting things down everyday to myself, even though when I look back it's filled with alot of negative energy and woe-is-Dave. (Most diaries are I guess?) It would be a shame if someone found my diary when I was dead, read it and only remembered me as a whiney little cunt who could never look on the brightside of life. I used to be so much happier. I'd be fun to be around and at weekends I actually had friends who lived close enough to come round quite often. They'd flock here and gather with each other every weekend without fail. We had some amazing times back in the day and some not-so-amazing times but it was all part of the experience. It's hard not to miss those days, even though I have different friends and we still have amazing times and make our own memories in similar fashion, all be it with more of a gap inbetween meeting up as everyone I know lives so damn far away now. Nobody from the old days is still around. Wendy, Chelle, Richard, Chris - All gone their own seperate ways and started families where as Me? I'm still here. Same old Dave... OLD being the more blatant word there. Still at The Bungalow longing for the next party. Maybe I'm past all that now? Maybe this is my life afterall and instead of fighting it I should embarce it with open arms and live it? Alone or otherwise.

I've noticed in some of my diary entries that I spend too much time focussing on others. I seem to spend alot of time worrying about other people. If someone is online regularly but suddenly stops I wonder where they are and worry if they're okay. If I txt someone and ask how they're doing but several days pass and I still have no reply, I worry. When the reality of it is they're probably just too busy to bother replying or to let me in on the fun times they're having without me. Some of the people I talk to only seem to want to know me when they have problems, when they need some advice or want to be complimented on how great they are so they can feel good about themselves, but as soon as they do they're off again and you don't see them for dust. (If you're reading this and think you fall into that category, just remember: It'd be nice to share the bad times AND the good times of your life. That's what real friends do.) I wonder sometimes who worries about me? Who would take time out of their day to send me a txt message to see if I was okay and actually mean it, not just use it as a gateway to unload their problems once I've lied and said "I'm okay. How are you?" because I'm not "okay" at the moment. I seem to be in this weird mood again clutching a feeling of loneliness wrapped up in uselessness of late. I feel like an outsider, struggling to fit in. I'm longing for someone to ask if I'm okay sometimes but I'm too scared to tell them I'm not most of the time, so they'll get the standard reply, whether they believe it or not remains to be seen. Some do, Some don't. Sometimes it can be days between anyone even asking. Obviously I know who cares. I'm not saying no-one gives a shit, but it does make me wonder sometimes just who cares. I've built this existence for myself so I shouldn't complain really. I wanted this, right? I wanted to push everyone away and live alone so to be moaning when they've gone is pretty pathetic even by my standards. I have some fabulous friends who really don't deserve the shit I bring to their door, yet the fact they're still around and put up with it/help me through it is just a testiment to how fabulous they really are. Everybody needs a cheering squad rooting them on and my cheerleaders are sensational. I don't need to name them because they definitely know who they are.

I think we'll leave it there for now. But I'll be back.