Why do you take things out on the person that you love most? We all do it. My theory is that it is because they are the people that understand you most and are therefore most likely to identify what you’re going though and be able to forgive your outburst. I’ve always done it. All my life. Upset the people closest to me whenever I’m going through a low period. I accuse them of trying to tell me what to do, even when underneath everything, I want their advice more than anything. I’m a very frustrating person to live with. I’m always second guessing things, looking for underlying motives. If I was an airhead I’d be easier to live with although I wouldn’t wish that on myself and I wouldn’t like to contemplate the type of man 154
who’d be with me. A person living with me tends to spend a considerable amount of time worrying about me. I don’t plan it. It just always happens. I know it’s because my moods are unpredictable. I can be energetic and full of life one moment and then completely depressed and self-hating the next. I can be great to be around sometimes but the majority of the time I’m not easy to be around at all. I’m a contradictory person. Mind you, if you’ve got this far with the book, you’ve probably taken that into account.
General anesthetic. That worries me a little. In just a few seconds it can knock you out cold and you lose time. You have no awareness of what in happening around you. You have given someone the responsibility of breathing for you because your body is no longer able to. Your life is in someone’s hand.
You are completely vulnerable. I seem to enjoy it because I have to do it again and again. Each time though it terrifies me. I tend not to try and think about it but the moment I’m being wheeled into pre-op, it’s all I think about. Not the operation itself but the fact that I have no control over my body. As the injection is made all I think is ‘you’ll wake up, you will wake up, no matter what, you’ll be waking up soon’. I think it’s to implant the idea in my mind in case anything goes wrong and my body and mind have to fight in a bid to come round to consciousness again. Stupid isn’t it.
I also have fears about shitting myself once control of my bodily functions has lessened. That’s why they tell you not to eat for a period of time before the general anesthetic. I’ll leave that at that.
I love philosophy. I don’t understand much of it but I love it. I get upset when I don’t comprehend things. I 155
think most of us do. I hate getting lost in words I don’t know. Concepts I can’t fathom. It doesn’t stop me being interested though. I just feel restricted. I’d love to be able to do an Open University course in philosophy or psychology as these are two areas which I can get lost in. However, I wasted my time at university when I was younger and didn’t really know what I wanted. Then, I had the chance of being helped with funding. Now I have none and if I can’t afford to buy food then I can’t afford to study. It pisses me off even though it’s all my own fault. I never imagined where I’d be when I was thirty, it all seemed so far off. I didn’t think I’d be this frustrated with my choices.
I remember clapping my hands in joy when I asked the doctor for a sick note for a week to cover an injury and he gave me one for a month just to be on the safe side. You know the feeling where you just want to kiss someone. There’s a phrase I learnt a long time ago. It’s this one – Milk it for all it’s worth.
A diet where you eat no carbohydrates but you can eat as many fried eggs and drink as much double cream as you like. Some people bypass common sense don’t they. Sure, a quick fix. Means I don’t have to do much work. Fucking idiots might have a heart attack from so much fat attacking their systems but what the heck, I’ll lose a bit of body mass. I’ll tell you how to lose weight healthily and I’ve had no medical training. Eat less fat. It doesn’t take a genius. Some people just cannot look after themselves at all. It’s a shame. A real shame. I’ve seen people talking about how they need to lose weight whilst tucking into a bacon butty and heard people saying they need to reduce their blood pressure whilst eating a family size packet of crisps. Look at yourselves. It’s pathetic.
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Passion. We seem to forget about it when we’ve been in a relationship for a while. Then one day you understand how much you long for someone to walk upto you silently and just grab you as if having to make love is the most important thing in the world.
Do you know what I mean? The heart-stopping sex you can have when making up after a big fight? The tingling you get from a new love affair. You know how much you need it one day when you’re sat watching the telly or making the tea and you can’t remember the last time it happened. I’m not being negative about relationships. It’s wonderful being so comfortable with someone that you can tell them anything. It’s amazing being with someone you love all the time. But now and again, and I apologise if it’s wrong, I want that person to walk upto me and tell me that I look so fucking sexy and if he can’t get his fucking hands on me immediately he’d rather die.
Ok. It’s official. I’m a sad bastard.