At work today I found myself in the toilets pondering the age old dilemma that has left men and women alike confused for centuries. Which cubicle to use? 

Everyone has their favorite toilets to use.. at the pub for me, it’s the one that’s on it’s own. There are three cubicles in the work toilets, and normally I favor the one by the window (for reasons which I have yet to fathom.. it appears to be the one most in use whenever I go there though, so it must be doing something right… Perhaps it has a comfier seat? Or flushes better? Maybe the ‘zen’ of the loo is just right.. regardless…) but today I had to decide whether or not to risk it.

Why was today different? Well, today.. today I was overcome by the insane urge to empty my (already void of food) stomach all over one (or any) or my lovely students. (it was no-one in particular but I honestly thought I was going to chuck up in one of their faces). So, I made my way to the toilets and had to decide.. would I use the popular loo or would I use another? Which one was more likely to draw attention to the fact that it was -still- in use? Which one was someone more likely to go into after I had finally vacated it and smell the unmistakable stench of yesterdays dinner? Luckily, by the time I had come to a conclusion the need to puke had passed again, rendering the entire decision making process unnecessary. What I was left with was an overwhelming sense of confusion. From deep in the depths of my nausea wave, why was the only thing I could think of, the optimal toilet to projectile into??

So, once again it reaches Saturday evening and I realize that I have forgotten to plan anything. Luckily I have amazing friends and two options of things to do tonight, but I find myself too tired to leave the house again. It’s rainy and cold and I just wanna go to bed. I really need to remember that I’m 21 and should not limit my socializing to weeknights. On the bright side, the headache I’ve been battling with for two weeks seems to have succumbed to the copious painkillers I’ve taken. (Y)

I’m sitting on my bed listening to music, writing this, on facebook and generally feeling lonely. Thing is, I have no reason to be. Looking at my diary, I have a full week coming up, with only Monday and Friday evening to fill, but I can’t help feeling that I’m missing someonething. Something. That’s what I said. Honest. Bloody hormones. Maybe I’m due on again. 

I went to my local last night.. and actually had an amazing time. I tried my whole ‘new me’ thing, and was nice to almost everyone (big achievement for me haha). I met some lovely people that I didn’t know before, and talked to some others than I didn’t know well, as well as hanging out with some amazing people I’m lucky to have in my life.

At one point in the night, one of my friends was talking to a couple of men (boys..whatever) I didn’t know, and being in an inquisitive mood, I asked who they were.. Upon finding out that one of them was French, he inexplicably became more attractive. Unfortunately, after that point, we managed to lose him in a crowd, and thus went on a ‘French-hunt’. I eventually located the French, by which point most of the pub knew my mission of seeking him, however was then struck by a sudden inability to speak to him. (It was partly due to the tension created by the hunt, and partly due to my confidence in my french abilities being quite low.) After a while of lurking and loitering (luckily a lot of my friends were talking to him) I found an opening as a mini translator (at which point, my background in working with EAL children came in quite handy) and I began to talk to him… I left with his number, and have been talking to him today, and now have him on facebook as well :) Sorted. My French will improve (Y)

On another note.. The Banker tried to add me on facebook again today. And The Boy has been online a lot and not spoken to me at all…Oh well. I have come to the conclusion that men are douches :) 

Bored of writing about myself now.. and it’s late and I need to sleep. Double maths this morning after clearly not enough sleep (I over slept) was not fun.

I wonder how many of these it would take to send me to sleep.
How many would it take to reunite us?
And then how many more to take you away?
I shake the brown plastic bottle and hear the satisfying rattle of them rolling around inside.
Small, round, white.
For emergencies only.
Emergency. Funny concept that.
If I swallowed the whole bottle, that would be considered an emergency.
But I won’t. Don’t worry. I’m not yet that brave again.

So this marks my first Tuesday at the local student pub without me drinking. It was a strange night as I got to see it from a sober perspective, but by the time I was onto my second J20 I was, I have to confess, a bit bored. I suppose having been there since 5 might have something to do with it, so perhaps next week I shall return home after work and venture out again a little later. 

I had 3 J20’s and then left with my heavily pregnant friend as our beds were calling us both. My flatmates were shocked to see me home and sober, obviously having forgotten my new (at least temporarily) alcohol free lifestyle :)

Things are looking up. Work is good, I have amazing friends; life is okay :) Let’s keep it up :D

I need to get a better hold on my emotions, especially when I’ve been drinking. I have so many wonderful friends that it often confuses me as to how I manage to deserve them. It also always confuses me when I get the strange sensation of utmost loneliness. I’m not lonely; I’m surrounded by people that care about me, so why I feel completely alone so often just escapes me.

I suppose it’s normal, but is it? I know I’m not the only one who feels this way, don’t get me wrong, I’m not that self centered. (I hope)

I need to keep my paranoia in check. I need to learn to stop reading so much into things when they don’t mean anything at all. I need to pull myself together and man up. I need to remember to take my medication.

I have recently acquired an oil lamp. A ‘hanging’ style mildly Victorian-esque oil lamp. It makes me smile. I ordered it from ebay after painstakingly searching for days on end for the perfect one. It isn’t perfect, but it’ll do until I find THE one. I suppose it’s a bit like men really. Anyway, my point being… if you want me any time in the next few days, chances are I’ll be hiding in the dark playing with it. I’m currently writing this by light of oil lamp, and have spent the evening online by the same light. No more electric lights for me for a while methinks. I’m half hoping the lights blow out so I actually have an excuse to be wandering around the flat with it.

My flatmates think I’m insane, but they should know this already … you’d have thought so anyway. It’s part of my attempted transformation into a wayward asylum girl. I shall post a picture when I can. Until then, I’m off to bed.

Today has been a strange day. I’ve had a couple friends over to watch Disney movies, but have been absolutely rubbish company. One of them actually inadvertently made me feel bad ‘cause she said she hasn’t ever seen me like this before.

“I’ve seen ‘sad Hana’ and ‘drunk sad Hana’ but I’ve never seen you like this” she said to me. “You seem so.. deflated.”

I suppose that’s a pretty accurate way of describing how I’ve felt these past couple days. Like, I’ve had all the air taken out of me. I haven’t felt like doing anything at all, and my appetite has totally gone. Even thinking about eating makes me feel like vomiting, and it took me far too long to decide on what I actually felt like eating, after having decided that I probably should eat. I barely managed 2 rolls and a handful of salad all day. Normally when I feel down I just eat more, but this is different. I’m looking on the bright side and hoping that my hardly being able to eat means that I’ll be able to shift a few pounds. Well, either that or I’ll end up mildly bulimic. Either way, these shakes and butterflies need to fuck the hell off.

Okay, so I fucked up…again. I’ve spent a day with a hangover and today in bed after knocking myself out with valium last night. Now I have a plan. If it goes wrong, I’ve realized it’s not the end of the world anymore. I pushed him away and fucked things up like I usually do. But it’s the last time. There will be no more wallowing in self pity and expecting myself to do things wrong. I am in control of my own destiny and these self-fulfilling prophecies are all that have been stopping me. Yes, a lot of shit has happened in your life Hana but you need to man up and take charge. No one else can change things except you. Yes it’s going to be hard, but you know what? Tough shit. Other people can deal with things and no I know you’re not other people, but that doesn’t prevent you being able to deal with things. Is it any wonder he couldn’t deal with all the shit you presented him with? No. But you know what? It was unnecessary. 

It hurt to hear a friend tell me in no uncertain terms that I was being a twat. But she was right. I can’t keep giving it a name. Ever since learning that giving something a name gives the thing itself strength, I have fully believed it. I guess I never truly realized it applied to me as well. I can’t keep hiding behind excuses of ”well that’s just the way I am” or ”oh well I just did it again” etc. That is entirely counterproductive as I have learnt to expect myself to behave in the same way each time. People change. Things change all the time and although I may not like it and I may feel that I’m not used to it, I fucking am; I just refuse to accept change. THIS has to change. It’s gonna be hard but hey, I have the best people I could ever hope for around me to help me do it and you know what? They believe I can. I trust my friends opinions more than I do my own, so maybe it’s time to actually listen.

As I sit here smoking my second cigarette of the day at half seven at night, still in my pajamas after vegging on the sofa for the best part of the day, only leaving my little sanctuary for food and tea, I’m trying to remember the events that led up to there being a fucking cactus in my front room.

I met the girls yesterday at 2ish, and we were in the pub before 3 after a quick spurt of shopping. By 5 we were all merry and if I’m honest, it’s all a bit of a blur after that. Far too many ciders and alcopops were punctuated by shots and the usual drama a good night out tends to bring, and I have a vague recollection of stealing The Boy’s iPhone to look up Emilie Autumn porn (to no avail) and of seeing a fair number of old faces, as well as meeting some new ones. 

The bell to signal last drinks made me feel it was a good idea to do a couple more shots before leaving, and next time, I give anyone full permission to shoot me. These final shots took me from being very drunk to needing to vomit, and as I stood outside the pub holding back the need to vomit I had to turn down the offer of going to another pub to carry on. I found myself at a gate in a shallow alcove holding on for dear life while the world spun around me.

It was at this point, I seem to remember Steph (my dear friend and fellow Emilie-porn hunter) noticing a small cactus in a pot in exactly the same spot I had chosen as the final resting place of the copious amount of alcohol I had drank. This therefore meant that my plan of allowing the drinks to come back out the way they went in had to be put on hold as I retrieved the cactus. The only problem was that it was on the other side of the gate, and my disorientation meant I was viciously attacked by it several times before I managed to rescue it.

A brisk walk home afterwards and a trip to the kebab shop on the way home for the traditional egg and bacon in a bun finished off the night, before we tumbled through the front door, crawled up the stairs and I collapsed into bed. 

I don’t look forward to finding out other events of the night, but knowing my friends, I’ll slowly have to piece together an almost full account of the night.. The hangover this morning leads me to believe that I might not actually want to. It was a very messy night, and I have an awful feeling that I may have some apologies in order.

Something tells me that (and not just because of work) last night was the last time I’ll be having such a heavy night in a very long time. On the bright side, ‘a cactus’ can now be added to the long list of things that my friends and I have ‘relocated’ whilst inebriated. :)

I finally got off my lazy ass and went to see Alice in Wonderland the other day. Oh. My. God. What I wouldn’t give to have access to that wardrobe! I mean, I’d blow anyone for the chance to wear/own/touch any of those clothes. 

Makes me wish I’d been born into the era it was perfectly acceptable, if not expected, for a young lady to wander around wearing corsets and petticoats and full length ball gowns, just because. 

The movie itself was fabulous, and I couldn’t help myself falling a little bit more in love with Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter and Tim Burton. The girl playing Alice is gorgeous as hell and is actually only a year younger than me, so if anyone knows of her being in a town near me.. I may actually throw myself at her feet.. (although, I’m not loving her with short hair).

Didn’t get to catch the 3D version, and am gutted, but so please to have finally seen it, and glad that it didn’t disappoint. Will definitely be buying it to add to me Tim Burton collection, and am just glad that The Boy wasn’t there to witness my shameless (and indiscriminate) drooling over actors and clothes alike.

Why do I silently scream in disagreement with myself, despite not knowing what the question or statement was?
Why do I feel the need to reach for the blade every time I can’t breathe, as though piercing my skin will let air into my lungs?
Why do I desperately gasp for any scraps of air I can grab hold of, while at the same time feeling the tears pour down my face in rivers of mascara?
Why do I find myself at the top of the stairs, unable to move my legs to descend?
Why is the little white pill the only thing that can save my from myself?
Why do I find it so hard to function as a normal human being; drowning under myself; when others, despite feeling the same, manage to find ways to cope?

Why can’t I be fucking normal?

I must stop being so damn self destructive and vaguely multiple personality. I waited for over a month for The Boy to ask me out, and when he did (disregarding the fact that I was so drunk I don’t remember it happening - ah the wonders of facebook relationship statuses) I immediately began to go into freak out mode.

This happened when I started going out with The Banker as well. In that case, I was fucking a couple of people at round about the same time, and he was a girl about it and wanted me exclusively. I didn’t want to lose out on the sex, and had already tried a relationship with one of the booty calls, for it to end in tears, (and thoughts of destruction of property), and had too much history with the other, so decided to give it a go. This was merely weeks after deciding that I was totally done with relationships until I sorted out my head. For days I wandered around in a daze wondering how I managed to get myself into this mess, only to then cheat on him and get caught. (I was drunk, it was a pub, she told someone.. obviously it was going to get back to him). I should have known that relationship was headed for disaster when I realized that out of the 3 girls I used to go out with the most, he’d dated one, and tried to fuck another but ended up kissing the lesbian (my ex) before settling for me.. and this was probably only because he was a grammar school boy who’d never been dragged home for sex after only meeting a few times. (What can I say, I’m a horny drunk). Despite this, we stayed together for 18 months, with a few hiccups, until I decided I needed a break and he found someone else. His loss :)

The point being, I didn’t want to be in a relationship at that time, so my freaking out and all was semi-justifiable. This time, I waited over a month for it, only to panic at the label ‘girlfriend’. It being on facebook seems to make it so much more official than before, and means that if the situation arises, I have no grounds on which to justify my knickers being on someone else’s floor.

I have little to no self control at the best of times, especially when drunk, but coming off my medication has made me even more.. volatile. Is that the word I want? I need a word to describe ”completely and utterly insane and occasionally having a total disregard to consequences arising from actions”… or something.

I do adore him, and he’s simply lovely. I need to make sure I don’t fuck things up ‘cause I’ll be devastated if I manage to do so without being happy for at least a couple months with this one. Does anyone else get like this? I suppose it’s that ‘wanting what you can’t have’ thing. Thoughts?

What do you do, when someone you love is slowly killing themselves? I have a friend who has always had issues with food. Any fad diet you can think of, she’s been on it. Now, I find out that for the last week she’s been living off of one yogurt a day. And nothing else. She came to visit me, and before she left I forced her to take a chicken breast home with her so she at least had some food, as her excuse was she couldn’t afford it. She found it abso-fucking-lutely hilarious to have hidden it back in my freezer. I don’t know what to do; she lives in a different county otherwise I’d go see her everyday and force feed her. If I attempt to tell her parents, I’ll lose her as a friend, but how does she expect me to just sit there and watch her slowly die??

She’s a suicide risk, but refuses to accept help. After the first time, I was terrified, but to find out it’s happened again, and now this!… I feel so damn helpless. I know now how people must have felt about me when I was in hospital, and it’s made me damn adamant I’d never try again. I can’t bear this feeling and I’m not selfish enough to put people through it. 

She’s delusional, but I have no idea what to do, short of getting her committed against her will, but the way the NHS works, that wouldn’t be an option ‘cause unless you’re actually in the middle of suicide, they won’t give a fucking damn.

Fucking things. What do I do?