Today I am 25.

I’ve been unbelievably touched by the efforts of some, and surprisingly disappointed by the indifference of others.

The most simple of acknowledgments from another human being, something that says “you’ve been in my thoughts”, is enough to keep me feeling connected to the world around me.

I like being alone, so why do I feel so lonely?

Well my lovelies, have you missed me as much as I’ve missed you? Though you may not have seen me, I’ve still been around, although I’ve been a bit more detached from the world wide web in the last few months, so though I’ve been following adventures I’ve not felt too compelled to throw my two cents in anyone’s direction.

So, how am I? I’m, actually ok. Thank you all so much for your comments, messages and love. I’m trying to get a handle on myself by myself, I’m managing, in a manner of sorts. My weight is maintaining and I’m limiting myself to one preplanned b&p episode a week, sometimes events have to be organised around this, and I panic at the thought of it not being convenient/possible to do such. It probably sounds absurd to think myself ok when making room in my calendar for such events, but for now it’s what I need to do to get by. I can eat moderately and guiltlessly all week when I know I have that one day, and even then it’s nowhere near as catastrophic an episode as it once was. I still know I’m not really alright, and that I need to address this formally at some stage, but for now, it is what it is.

Work is busybusybusy, which really is rather a good thing I’m sure. I’ve been doing lots of overtime and endearing myself to my boss, who by the way is officially the nicest boss in the whole entire world. How nice? Well, today for example, the busiest day of the year thus far, and a couple of us girls were nattering away about washing windows (typically random work conversation), he strolls past on his way elsewhere and just asks us to keep it down a bit. Anyone else would’ve been within his rights to scream at us from their desk to shut up and work for heaven’s sake, and even what he did do was so uncharacteristically disciplinary that we were shocked into silence for the rest of the day! He’s incredibly approachable and friendly and takes angry customers from me and I think I may be a little in love with him.

So, yes, work. Lovely boss came over to me to note my phenomenal work today, his words not mine. As it was so busy most were resigned to not finishing all their assigned accounts, but not Cara, oh no, she saw it as a challenge. See, I’ve decided that while this may not be the job I want to do for the rest of my days, and may not offer much in the way of job satisfaction and while I may become utterly disillusioned that 6 years in college leaves me making not much more than minimum wage…I have a job, and at the moment that is a privilege that not everyone shares (and few know the effects of the current economical climate like she who works in credit operations)…and so while I have my job, I’m going to work. Tolling day in and out at the bare minimum is a surefire way to utter apathy, I want more for myself, so I’m going to give this my all, and get the most out of it that I can. Lovely boss man has already mentioned that the next vacancy that arises in the level above mine has my name on it, and to be discussed for promotion within my first 6mths isn’t too shabby, surely?

As for home. Well, home is not so hot. Home with mes parents sees them struggling through this financial crisis with the rest of the world, trying to constantly reassure me that they (we) will be fine, they just have to ride it out, cash-poor, asset-rich is getting thrown around a lot. But it seems it will be a while before assets are worth their riches again.

Home here, with little sister, is downright icy. We’re just not getting on. We’ve always had a tumultuous relationship, but under one roof the bad seems to outweigh the good 100:1…a ratio which does not make for pleasant living conditions. She gets mad, but I get upset. It’s rather ugly a realisation to make that my little sister doesn’t seem to like me as a person, actually can’t seem to find one redeeming feature in her big sister. Thing is, I try. I really and truly do. And I really don’t think I could try harder. We decided to go our separate ways before Christmas, enough was enough, and thought this the best way to save our relationship, and so we went a-hunting for our respective new abodes, and only when both were secured were we to discover how watertight our lease here was, and that it would cost thousands to leave before its expiration. And so, leaving wasn’t an option, and we’re forced to suffer each other until May, if only it were suffering in silence!

But, it’s not all doom and gloom, in my flat-hunting adventures I discovered a boy, a beautiful bright boy who’s been keeping me entertained for the last few months. Never before have I come across one who’s ticked every box on my wish-list, and so it would all be rather daunting and scary that this seemingly perfect creature would wish to know me, except I’m trying my hardest not to listen to myself, to not allow myself be scared off by the voice screaming ‘not good enough!’…and he’s still here, and so, so far so good. It’s early days yet, so I’m loathed to get too excited, but I do want to enjoy it, because everything ends, and when it does end I’d rather know I enjoyed the journey.

So, that’s me, how have you been??

Peoples, I’ve missed this, I’ve been thinking of returning lately, I rather feel like I’m doing myself a disservice by not writing and flexing my brain a bit, and have been wondering that maybe if I even just did it privately it would serve its purpose, but then again…I’ve missed you.

The binging is nothing new, but the purging? Quite novel. And starting to scare me.

I don’t remember what normal is anymore.

I think it might be coming close to a time when I can ask for help…

So, no, I promise I’m not the girl who cried wolf, I’m sticking to my guns with regards to my blogging hiatus, but I did feel the need to write this before I take my leave. It seems I’d given the impression that I was killing off my blog, perhaps because when I was writing the previous entry I had every intention of erasing its existence from the ether, whereas now I am instead putting it to bed for a while, to be woken when (or if) I see fit.

I’ve been having a kind of hard time lately, and while Marste is entirely correct in insisting that these are the times where self-exploration is most needed and writing can be a powerful conduit for such, it’s just too much for me right now. I’ve been overwhelmed by melancholy of late, literally overwhelmed, and facing my demons is just too daunting a task, no matter how imperative an undertaking it may be. I’m just feeling too lost and lonely and rather hopeless I’m afraid and instead wish to bury my head in the sand for a while, just to keep my ears warm, you know.

I’ve been reading Stephen Fry’s Moab is my Washpot recently, it fills my lunchtimes when having to be sociable and stuff just seems beyond my ability. So, today a certain piece of prose really, really struck a chord in relation to the comments I’d received after my last post. I honest to goodness did not write that post in order to be convinced against my decision, I wasn’t fishing for affirmation or anything of the sort, but I can’t tell you the reassurance I found in the warmth and kindness of what I read, and the following extract resonated oh so much as a result…

Thank the Gods there is such a thing as redemption, the redemption that comes in the form of other people the moment you are prepared to believe they exist. I remember an episode of Star Trek that ends with Jim turning to McCoy and saying, ‘Out there, Bones, someone is saying the three most beautiful words in the galaxy.’ I fully expected the nauseous obviousness of ‘I love you’. But Kirk turned to the screen, gazed at the stars and whispered:
‘Please, help me.’

I’m not ready to ask for assistance just yet, but there’s comfort to be found in the knowledge that once I’m ready to start talking, there’ll actually be someone out there willing to listen.

Until again, my darlings.

I’d written around half a dozen entries over the last week or so, none of which I deemed fit to publish once they’d reached their conclusion. Every word written seemed so self indulgent and self conscious once it was committed to type, nothing I’d want to read and most certainly not anything I should expect to be read by another. Looking for inspiration or some such I trawled through my archives, rereading everything written since this blog’s birth and I found myself embarrassed, more often than not. I don’t know if it was naivety on my part, or sheer arrogance in thinking I had something to say, or a way in which it could be said.

This all started as a way in which I might find my voice, a sense of self, beyond the obvious cathartic nature of this beast. And yet the more I wrote, the less I found to say. Rambling sentences running in circles, thoughts stumbling around in the dark, aimlessly feeling their way for direction and guidance. Shallow, superficial nonsenses were the overwhelming theme of the writings of this overgrown child who’s never known how good she has it. Anything, ANYTHING to avoid having to glimpse within and realise how I’ve made a life out of avoiding being vaguely challenged, always taking the easy way out, coasting through life desperately trying to steer clear of failure and with it that which might mildly resemble success. No highs or lows, just a life lived in varying shades of grey. Fear is the dominant theme, always has been if I’m honest.

And now I’m afraid that I have nothing left to write here. I don’t know if I’ve lost my voice or if I just don’t want to have to share that which might be left to say. Thank you for making it this far, but I can’t keep going.

My my, what a day.

There’s no sweeter way to start one’s day then in a state of utter dismay.

Okay, so that’s entirely untrue, although I am rather pleased with the unintentional rhyme therein. So, no sooner had I logged into my phone at work this morning than it started to ring, I answered it in my usual sing song work manner, asking how I can help, because I’m good like that. I was met with a rather disgruntled gentleman (and I use the term very loosely) who ignored my greeting and launched straight into a tirade as to why he was calling. I tried my darndest to reason with him and explain the rationale behind his being charged the (nominal) fee he was disputing…but as the conversation progressed he just got louder and louder until everyone within earshot was staring at me wondering who was the demonic creature shouting down the phone into my ear…he didn’t like my repeating myself, it seemed, and although I asked him to please stop shouting he seemed insistent on being heard, which was rather counter productive really seeing as I eventually hung up on him.

I’m a patient creature, honest I am, but I can’t abide by such aggression…I’m not one to fight fire with fire…I may play pretend like I’ll put up a good fight, but once my initial facade of bravery wears off, I’m a shadow of myself and am more inclined to get upset than angry. When I placed the receiver in its cradle this morning I realised I was shaking like a leaf…that this man who was so aggrieved over an amount that would pay for breakfast could reduce me to such seems so utterly pathetic in hindsight, but I’m a delicate creature, and can’t help but feel personally affronted by such. I was terrified of the phone for the remainder of the day. Terrified. Of the phone. I wonder did he spare me a second thought as he went about the rest of his day…

In other news, I’ve lost some weight of late and while I never thought this would be anything but a super happy joy-filled event, it’s really rather not…see, it’s not been a conscious thing so there’s no sense of achievement, my appetite is just shot of late, and I know not why…and do I look all lithe and lovely? Not particularly, no, because of course all mass was lost from where it was most needed…the ass in my jeans sags, I’m not filling my bras and trousers without belts are rather embarrassing. So I don’t look any thinner, just in need of new clothes…and even then, I’m now wedged firmly between sizes, so do I try and lose more and fit into the smaller size (never going to happen, I’m at a record low adult weight here) or do I gain back what was lost and once again fill the gaps (that’s just a recipe for all out binging up to record highs). Talk about caught between flab and hard abs…


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