Yesterday was my last day at Key Enterprises. It is a charity for people with mental health problems; it provides routine and teaches various skills. I have been going there for a little over two years - during that time I have met quite a few people, learned how to refinish furniture, taught myself pyrography, and improved in terms of mental health. Unfortunately they have lost funding and are closing; I decided not to attend this Thursday as I am going up to Aberdeen, so yesterday was my last day. I gave people cards, and left cards and small presents for the other two still attending my department, who are not in on Mondays. I was given a few cards and a small bunch of flowers, which was very nice. I walked out with two carrier bags full of stuff - books, material, bits of wood; with a stitch-picker in one pocket and a dozen nails in the other. And I knew it was coming but I am still sad and kind of confused.

Today I have been doing very little - I skipped my evening class, again, but I will go back in January and do my best not to miss another time. But this year my present-making has branched out into woodwork, so I have just been doing that, and managed to injure myself. If I had sanded my knuckles, or hit my hand with a hammer, or cut myself with a stanley knife or a saw or whatever, I would not have been surprised. But I cut myself with a drill.

Cut yourself with a drill, you say? How in the world did you manage that?

Well, it was a good drill, and a not-so-good drill bit. I was working on top of a big wooden toolbox, holding the wood in place with my foot (it is a two-handed drill). And as I attempted to drill a second hole right next to the first, the drill slipped, the tip hit the work surface, the bit bent, and as the drill wound down, the tip of the whirling drill bit caught my foot. It bled.

I should have bought myself a vice before I started. Or at least been wearing shoes.
So, some stuff has happened - not a great deal, but some, still, and anyway.

I signed up to do a craft fair, and then it got postponed to last weekend because of a fire at the venue, and hardly any customers came, and I sold one keyring, which doesn't even cover my bus fare, and I tweaked my knee carrying all my shit home again. But I am giving them another chance and doing their next fair in about a month and if that is crap then I will stop throwing good money after bad.

My bank account is looking a bit unhappy as I have been spending more money than usual lately - with the craft fair, getting in a bunch of stuff to work on, and a few random bits and pieces, and also with yarn, of course. My stash is increasing because whenever I want something for a specific pattern I seem to wind up buying other stuff as well. I have been knitting a variety of baby stuff - oh, hey! reading back I see that I have not actually posted about that.

My sister is pregnant, due in a little over two months. It is the first spawn of the next generation, so it is all rather exciting and as I say, I have been knitting a bunch of stuff. She was down for work last weekend and has quite the bump, and I have just about got past calling it a parasite.

Also I had one of those moments where you think of the perfect retort ten minutes too late, because she made a comment about me going grey - I have a visible sprinkling, which I find quite amusing, especially being the youngest, and with the whole thing about Katie Holmes going grey when she is like five years older than me and not as 'bad' - and what I should have said is that she'll obviously catch up once she has the kid.

Eh. Stuff.

Oh, and Key - where I go to do the furniture stuff - has lost its NHS funding, which is what pays for me and most of the other clients to go there. So that stops at the end of the year, and since there will only be a few folk still going unless they get a training contract or something, there's a decent chance the whole place will close down. Which sucks, because I like it and it's been really good for me, and... yeah.

Also I have a lump on my finger where I scratched it the other day, except I didn't think I broke the skin so I don't know why it has gone lumpy. Hopefully it will go away by itself but if it gets worse I am totally going to the doctor because it would suck if my finger fell off. Not that that's likely, but, well. Better safe than sorry.
Today, the first Tuesday since I stopped seeing my psychotherapist, I didn't go out - not to the shop, or to knitting group, or to visit a friend like I said I would.

And now it's so late it's early, and I'm still doing nothing, and I just heard myself planning the excuse to my friend, that I felt insane today.

Gee, I wonder if there's a connection.

It's slightly terrifying, actually. Not just not having that support any more, but thinking that I might be 'better' - the extensions of which being that maybe I'm just lazy when I don't get up, and maybe I really should be doing more, and maybe this is all I'll ever manage, which is vaguely content but with a pile of regrets - and thinking that I might not - extensions include worrying about another downward slide and 'holy shit what if something happens that I can't cope with and what if...'

It should be a good thing, that I'm not seeing him any more, and it is, when it isn't three in the morning after a litany of failures. And I'm hungry, which never helps, so I shall eat and sleep and then I shall do at least some of the things I didn't do today.
Just had a thought which is making me laugh a little through the tears.

I wound up quite insistent about getting my mother's name put on the gravestone, because it had been several years and I wanted her visibly remembered and such.

I just realised there was an element of selfishness there. Because at the time, I was verging on suicidal. It's only now that I can look back and say, "oh. I wanted some reassurance that, if nothing else, my name would be on a stone somewhere."

I'm doing better now. I still have bad days, and I'm a lazy besom, but it's actually kind of frightening to think about how far I am from where I used to be, mentally.

Of course, right now I'm not fresh from looking at jobs, courses, or finances, which all get me down. Even then, though, my future may be murky, but at least it exists. I'm going to keep making things. I'll write, every so often. I'm going to be an aunt, how weird and cool.

And I'm not living from event to event, the way I used to. ("can't kill myself before K's wedding, G's birthday, can't mess up Christmas...")

I'm just living. And that's OK.
I have been actually nocturnal for the last few days. This is bad. I am feeling... weird. I have been reading lots of fic for a film I haven't actually seen, which isn't that unusual for me.

Stupid psychiatrist man is off on holiday. It doesn't feel like seeing him is helpful but then I am not very good at being self-aware. Usually I have to look at my actions and then say, oh, right. So the current nocturnal behaviour could be to do with not seeing him, or lack of direction at Key, or because I've been thinking I really ought to Do Something which obviously makes me curl up in horror, or something else that I haven't thought of yet.

Finally got my back window replaced last week, which was good but did involve having guys in my house for half the day, which was stressful, and then I fell asleep in my jeans and missed my pottery class. Agh.

Stuff, stuff, stuff, right now I am swithering about spending money on a concert ticket, it is actually pretty standard money for a big show but that is more than I want to spend on a night out. Grr.

I did actually lie down and try sleeping a few hours ago but obviously I did not try very much. Yesterday I went to bed around eight a.m. and woke up about six p.m. which is Not Good and also I will have to be out on Thursday for Key - actually I missed it on Monday because I was sleeping all day, and obv the stupid sleep patterns and lack of motivation and freaking boredom is why I am posting for once, maybe I will try and post a little more often than once in a blue moon, but then again maybe not, I never really have anything to say, and I keep meaning to write but then I get all worried about it and I even bought alcohol to aid the writing process but I wound up just drinking it because I couldn't be arsed making up some diluting juice. Feh. Bored, bored, bored. Stupid brain.
OH EM GEE!

My new laptop arrived, it is very exciting! and it is a lot faster than my old one, for sure, I can tell already.

la la la...

I did not go see psychiatric-man because I had just got it delivered and I was EXCITED and then I went out to get the bus and I waited and then there were two at once and the first was busy so then I tried to stop the second one and he kept driving and I went AHHHH and was UNHAPPY so I went back inside. I think that was fair.

I had to go see a doctor this morning to renew my prescription and it was a locum and he tried to tell me the basics about depression and I just, y'know, pretended to agree in order to get out of there as fast as possible.

New 'puter! Yayz!
Earlier, I went through my post for the last, uh, two or three weeks, which is not much, but included train tickets for Monday, a bill I'd forgotten about, a letter for a neighbour, a threatening note from TV Licensing and a cold weather payment (woot!). Then Dad came over and took me out for a pint.

craftinesses - chainmaille and pyrography )

Also I have been taking pictures. Not many, and generally not when people are around, but still. There was something about shame-reducing exercises in a self-help book I read recently, and I think photos could work for that, maybe. Maybe. I should not be embarrassed about taking photos even if it is of random things; people seem to think I am artistic, I can totally pretend.

Also I have strimmed my hair again.
At Key I have been burning things, also known as pyrography; I am not very good at it. One of the guys complimented my work, and asked how I could say (as I had earlier) that I wasn't artistic; but I'm a perfectionist.

I have missed both the Friday choir rehearsals so far, mostly out of apathy. They will not kick me out, though, because they are pretty short on tenors. On the way to rehearsal last night I saw a fox, pretty much in the middle of town. It was pretty cool, ran out of a side street just in front of me and trotted across the road.

I have been watching quite a lot of telly - iplayer, downloads, etc. Most of it has at least been semi-decent; but I did at one point watch Antiques Roadshow out of desperation for distraction. I tried to tell psych-man how much of me is distraction but I'm not sure how well it got across. Maybe I should take knitting to a session.

ETA: I have bought train tickets for my holiday, and ordered a new simcard as the company my phone is on has been taken over or some shit, and I've been getting texts about it for, um, a while now. I should probably look into prices but I have been organised enough for today, I think. I have done dishes and everything.
I have not gone to choir because I am coughing and sneezing and do not want to infect people. This is the fourth rehearsal I have missed so technically I am supposed to talk to, um, someone, to let me be in the concert after missing so many; but I am a tenor and they've been begging for more of us so I doubt it'll actually be an issue. (I missed one out of not realising it had started, one out of laziness, and one out of sleeping through it. Yes, it is an evening rehearsal.) I have been awake all day, it is terrible.

I have read three of my library books, here are a few comments.

The Subversive Stitch: Embroidery and the Making of the Feminine by Roszika Parker. Read more... )
The Archimedes Codex by Reviel Netz and William NoelRead more... )
Normal by Amy Bloom Read more... )

I went to psych-man today, it was not bad, but sometimes I feel like we are repeating outselves; and just because I know something intellectually does not mean I believe it, and he seems to expect otherwise, which is just silly. Some interesting thoughts about self-narrative, how I represent myself as opposed to how others experience me, etc. And I was on time, for once.

Ugh, I have been awake All Day (since before nine in the morning!) and my nose is sore and my throat is tickly and my Lemsip is three years expired, I don't know how that happened. ETA: Now I have run out of tissues. Sigh.
Would anyone like a green jewellery box? Quite old dark-green velvet interior, recently stained green exterior. It has been one of my projects at Key and they said I can have it but I already have jewellery boxes.

I am putting off going to sleep because I have psychotherapist tomorrow. Do Not Want.

I went to the library on the way home to print out a pattern for a woman at Key; I came out with five books. Surprisingly, all non-fiction. One knitting, one self-help, one historical/mathematical, one gender issues and one feminist perspective on the history of embroidery. And one or two bits of info that may be worth following up on; a lecture and a competition.

This morning I nearly went back to bed; I'm kinda glad I didn't. But I didn't want to get up - snooze button like whoa - and I knocked down my glasses and the lens popped out, and then my shoelace broke. And I got the bus into the centre instead of walking because I was running late, and then I actually walked into someone - I thought he was stepping forward and he was stepping back - and then getting off the bus, the driver didn't notice me and I had to say something. And I'd actually been thinking as I walked to the front that something like that happening would just confirm that I should have stayed in bed. Sigh. But a somewhat cute guy on the bus asked me the time, that was ok.

Urgh. OK. Sleep time now. Or at least lie-down-and-close-eyes, because they are not optimal.
The other day - late on Sunday evening, actually - I woke up to find my hand was oddly red. I think it's a reaction to the dye on my pillow, or something, but it's made me pretty glad I sleep with the pillow that way up, because otherwise it would be my face; and my hand is still red. It looks and feels quite like a sunburn, so I have moisturised and hope that will help.

I did not go to therapy today even though I was awake. Last week kinda sucked. I'm not even sure what we were talking about any more, but there were tears and awkward silences. I just remembered he's on holiday next week, woo. I spend a lot of time avoiding thinking. This is probably not good for me but last time I lay quietly and thought, it was about getting another tattoo and/or piercing just for the endorphin buzz, which is basically self-harm that also hurts the wallet. Ugh. This is why I don't have a brain any more, I use too much of it stopping other bits of it from doing anything. And there isn't even anything particularly bad in there.

Now I am going to choir to sing loud things; that is good.
*iz ded*

Got up at eight, which is an obscene time on a Sunday morning, to find toilet overflowing. Finally got the pipe working again around half-eleven, at which time dad arrived (it was kinda spooky, actually) and wanted to start work on the other pipe, so I hung around watching and fetched and carried. I have been up and down those stairs at least two dozen times today and I am TIRED. Yes, I know I am unfit, I plan to work on it, but this is not the way to do it. Also five of those trips were carrying a big bucket of water down to the drain in the road. Anyway. Dad left a bit after one, having unblocked that pipe as well, and bought me some more gas, which is good. I have poured warm salty water down the sinks. The bathroom still smells bad.

I am just back from the shop, because I was in dire need of caffeinated sweeteners (aka diet coke) and food with instructions on it. My legs are sore. I may take a nap now. Of course, a nap now could turn into sleep until tomorrow, but I am a bit incompetent without enough sleep. Last night I nearly gassed myself because I went downstairs and found the blowtorch not working because of cold, so I brought it back up, and forgot to actually turn it off until I smelled it. Sometimes I think if I was braver I'd totally have won a Darwin award by now, because I may be intelligent but that depends on me actually thinking about things.
I just went outside twice and up the close once (which is not that far from outside, really, given the non-existent back door and broken window).

Not because it is snowing again (though it is). Not because there is a loud party across the way (though there is). No, the plumbing situation has deteriorated. Previously the toilet still worked, but I found it with the bowl full of water (found it by sitting down and getting a wet bum) and so I scooped water out and emptied the bucket in the drain grating round the corner. And then did that some more and got some of the water out of the shower as well, and emptied that. And then put notes through the doors of both neighbours directly above me. I probably should have done that Thursday night; or, actually, gone and said something, because I had a big flood which I'm assuming was someone emptying a bath - it seemed like a lot of water all at once. But the fear happened. Sigh.

My much vaunted independence has taken a blow in light of the lack of toilet facilities. Oh well.
So, Christmas has been and gone. I have been online a fair amount but not talky. Stuff. Sleep patterns non-existent, being around people, etc.

Day was nice; am at sister's house, were five of us (two sisters plus husbands) now other sister and hubby have returned to Aberdeen; I am going home tomorrow. Dad visited unexpectedly on Christmas day, which was good because I sent most of my presents home with him, including the ironing board.

Have taught both sisters basic crochet, and cramped up my hand doing crochet all day, because I'm not that used to it, but I do seem to have developed a smooth motion, and now I have made a hat.

I just started looking at job stuff again ten minutes ago and already I feel like shit. "But what do you really want to do?" asked the woman at the job centre, and I looked at her blankly. What do you mean, 'want'? What do you mean, 'enjoy'?

I would talk to my psychiatrist about it but I now haven't seen him in five weeks, only two of which were my fault. I don't know if I'm supposed to go this week but I'm going to assume not. And he'd just ask how it made me feel, anyway.

:(
So today I got up to go to the shrink. I have not seen him for the last three weeks: first he was on holiday, then I completely failed at getting out of bed, then last week he was sick. Turns out this week he is still sick. And I didn't realise until I got to the hospital that I'd gone out without putting on a bra. Well, I just had to go out the door and get the bus, which was just arriving, so there wasn't much walking around or anything, but it was odd.

He hasn't even seen my hair yet, I am sure he will have something to say about it. I chopped it off a few weeks ago and attacked it with my clippers and it is all short, I like it. Reactions at Key were mostly positive; I got one "Jesus Christ what happened to you?" and a couple more 'shock', one "your beautiful long hair" and one person not recognising me, but a number of "that actually really suits you."

I meant to go into town afterward, but I went to the shop for food and then I came home and instead of putting on a bra and going straight back out I lay down for just a little while which turned into about five hours. Oh well. Tomorrow will do. I really do need to, though, because it is to finish buying christmas presents. I am knitting some, also, need to finish a couple by this weekend because Mau is having a tree-decorating party (because some of us will be elsewhere for christmas) and then I can leave them there.

Ho-hum. Also, here is a video of octopusses.
I have curtains that block out the light! This is rather marvellous as I have streetlights right outside. I got the blackout material off ebay, picked it up from the house at the weekend (because I got it sent there by mistake through clicking through paypal too fast, sigh) and this morning I got up and I took the curtains down and I cut bits of material off the roll and then I took them all to Key and I sewed them together and it took like three hours but it got done. Also I now have a few metres spare blackout fabric. Anyone want?

I got a letter from the cooncil saying my housing benefit claim has been rejected because of a system error. I think it is that it is now a month since I first applied and no decision has been made, but that is because I don't have a doctor's letter yet, so once that arrives I will go to the office and go Argh at them.

Um. I'm pretty sure there was other stuff but nothing comes to mind, so.

ETA: I have done accumulated dishes, and put on a load of washing, and I was feeling all domestic and such and then I managed to dribble fruit tea all over the place. What's worse, it's pink. Sigh.
Queer.

I tend to think it has a fairly broad definition - basically anything Not Straight - but I think some people use it interchangeably with gay. So I'm not sure. Any ideas? I'm still swithering over what to put on my facebook profile, you see.

Also, I was at the shrink talking about my oddness and how I was always odd to some degree, and then I got home and the computer wasn't picking up wifi and I freaked a little, but off-and-on-again worked. Useful diagnostic, actually, because I know I should be picking up about ten locked networks, so if I'm not getting anything, it's not my network, it's my computer.

Also I have finally finished my cross-stitch kit of the Dales Way. See? Odd.
Dad came over to nag again, but for once I do not mind, because he brought me a wonderful magical letter which told me a wonderful magical thing: my appeal is allowed! I am to get money! woot!

Also he was surprised that I own tea - I blamed Mim - and then we made the internet work on the better laptop and then we set up wireless, so now I can sit in bed and have quick internets.

Also my blanket fell down off the side of the bed and he put it back the wrong way up, so the sun-face is upside-down, I will have to fix that.

In distinctly less awesome news, the Housing Benefit people called me and told me to get a letter from my doctor since the letter dad sent them (being as he is my landlord) mentioned my 'condition'. And I still have to give them proof of a bunch of things, most of which I have assembled.

Now I am going away to eat a Pot Noodle, followed by chocolate, and possibly drink a celebratory beer. Yayz.
I have finally ordered internet for the flat! should be installed in a couple of weeks, fingers crossed.

Also I have packed up a few more things, crushed a binbag full of bottles, and disturbed enough dust to have me sneezing a lot. My nose is sore, I have blown it so much.

It finally feels like I'm getting there. I mean, sure, I still have two bookshelves to empty, but there's... not that much else.

I was in town Friday afternoon sorting out stuff at the bank, which really needed done. Also went to my woman at the JCP and round the houses to get my bus ticket, so the walk home was fuelled by thoughts of lying down for an hour or two with my laptop. And then Dad was there and asked about it and suggested I go do something else, and I snapped a little, which I feel is allowable.

There does not seem to be any chocolate in this house. That is ridiculous.
Letter from Tribunals Service setting a date and time for them to refuse to keep giving me IB. I mean, that's not how they describe it, obviously, but it's basically what it is.

Cannot find my extremely-emotionally-significant necklace - hope it has just got lost in the moving shuffle, but am not terribly optimistic.

The amount of literal rubbish in my room that I still need to get rid of.

Letter from Cooncil implying I might not get Housing Benefit because I am renting from my dad.

Getting asked if I have done things that I know damn well I need to do but can't actually do yet because they rely on other things which have not happened yet.

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June 2012

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