It infuriates me that the people who suffer most in life are usually those treated most harshly by society.  Which includes everyone from the man at the bus stop to the psychiatrist to the family.  What is it?  Is it spite, or is it the idea that if someone has suffered then they must be weak so pile it right now?  Make them weaker so they can’t fight back anymore? And then what?

I might need a break from the madosphere as reading blogs about people who have gone through horrendous things and are being treated like crap makes me want to fire up my Google-fu, find addresses and dust off my hurley bat.  I feel impotent.  I rarely comment on blogs and that’s the main reason why; some I read are written by people going through hell, and what could I say?

I wish there was a natural equilibrium, in which people who have suffered a lot had life be kinder to them in other ways, something, anything to redress the balance.   Like every day a favourite thing of theirs is delivered to them, a note from the world at large that they deserve nice things, to be loved, to be thought of.  To paraphrase every single four year old in the universe: it’s not fair. (Or a four year old me, it’s not fucking fair. Thanks, mum).

I’m not talking about myself here, by the way. I don’t consider myself to be someone who has suffered a lot.  I have some traumatic things in my past but who doesn’t?  My parents were ill.  My mum is…well, she’s mad, proper mad.  Mentalism unspecified, though she’s been in a mental hospital.  She is a pathological liar so I don’t know what she was diagnosed with, she lies about it!  She is manic depressive, to my knowledge, and has a bit of kind of sociopathy to her.  My dad was an alcoholic with depression, who is dead, now. They hurt themselves, and each other, they struggled but they never wanted to hurt us. We got caught in the crossfire of their sadness, their madnesses, but it was never directed at us.  I don’t know who I would be or what I would do if my family had hurt me, on purpose.  In terms of my family, the traumatic things bought us together.  Our experiences gave us compassion and balls.  They’ve been incredibly supportive of me and I hope I am with them, too.  My big sister once drew a zebra crossing on my arm because that’s what my scars reminded her of- in permanent fucking marker, in July.  That’s love.  And she- and my other big sister-used to call me, “Denny” after the sausage rolls.  If you think about it, you’ll understand.

A few of you reading are probably wondering if I’m talking about you and I most likely am.  The madosphere puts a lot into perspective, and I wish it wasn’t so.

Grr. I throw my love and wishes out there to you all, for as little good as it will do.

In other news, my zopiclone prescription hasn’t been filed, and my social worker is off for the next week, so not sure how I shall sleep.  It sometimes takes my GP surgery a while to get prescriptions or my GP might not have approved it. My normal person sleep is bollocks and broken and left me exhausted and depressed for weeks on end.  I’ve been trying to get through it for over a month, but I’m failing somewhat so my social worker suggested Zopiclone to get me through the nights where I really need a big sleep.  It was going to be difficult coming off Seroquel as it helped me sleep.  In one way, I don’t want any medication and I didn’t accept the offer of Zopiclone for a little while.  I’d like to have some around, though, for times of desperation (and not just my own, the desperation I seem to instil in other people when I don’t sleep.)

I smoked weed for the first time in ages on Thursday because I wasn’t tired but wanted to alter my state a little bit further and also in the hope it would make me sleepy.  I’m jumpy as all fuck right now too, but that’s because I found a tiny tragic dead mouse under my sofa (even more tragic is that it got stuck in the hoover and we didn’t realise until two days later, when debris started snowing out onto the floor) and I’m waiting for the pallbearers to arrive.

I want to be healthy, so, er, drugs, yes, they’re an excellent idea.  Although weed is the drug I probably respond best to.  Not that I have a chequered history- I’m quite unversed in the ways of the dragon.  Alcohol is the drug I respond least well to, but it’s the one cheapest and most freely available.  I don’t drink much anyway, which is good. The only drink I can stand anymore is red wine.  Everything else tastes like a cocktail of piss and meths.

I’m realising that sleep is quite possibly the key for me.  I haven’t slept but so far today I’ve fixed a few things and cleaned the sitting room and rearranged some stuff and taken some photos.  I want to do everything- paint my flat, go to the farm, fix lots of computers and get a loan for a houseboat- except write!  Unusual for me, really.

When it comes to deleting or privating entries here, by the way, I reserve the right to do so.  This is my blog!  Sometimes I am not comfortable with what I’ve written, sometimes I realise I don’t want to get into a discussion about it, or upset someone, sometime it’s irrelevant and I’ll write it elsewhere, or sometimes I just write utter bollocks that should remain private.  A good chunk of this blog is private, I write a fair few things only I can read because I still use this space as a mood journal, which was its original intention.  So! Don’t point out that I shouldn’t delete things.   I sometimes worry about what I write here because it’s public and it’s my life. I once found an internet cafe when I was out with friends because I was desperate to delete a blog entry that in retrospect I thought was too personal.  I do worry, especially with entries concerning other people, because nobody in my life has asked to be written about, and I’m not anonymous.  It’s a bit like blurting out something embarrassing about your sex life down the pub- you just want to push the words back into your mouth.  But in blogland-


Anyway, speaking of photos, how frightening does Girl Cat look when she’s having a bath?


I’m yanking out the umbilical cord to the world for the weekend as I have things I need to do and the internet is not conducive to my distractable self.  The lure of houseboat shopping and easily accessible loans…

Have a good one, chaps!

EDIT! Oh, wait! I know I change tone wildly in some blog entries, especially ones where I’m trying to fit stuff in, but here is another weekend thing- I love weird animals, and this bird not only has the best name in the world, it also has the best mating display.  This bird is called the Superb Bird of Paradise.

18 Responses

  1. You’re really all kinds of awesome. :oD
    Just saying.
    (And YES, I feel like that too. In lots of the senses of ”that’ here….) x

  2. You are 100% within your rights to delete any entries you feel uncomfortable with. This is your blog. It’s your private space you’ve invited us into. It’s kind of like you’ve invited us into your living room for drinks and nibbles.

    I, too, feel like I can’t comment on others’ blogs because there’s nothing useful I can say. All I can do is offer money, but most problems can’t be fixed with that. There’s so much pain out there.

    • Agreed! If you choose to delete an entry, I feel you’re entirely entitled. You’re letting us peak into your life, and it IS yours to decide what we’re allowed to see!

  3. I wish the same thing, that people who do suffer the most are the ones that get the most kindness in other areas of their life. It reminds me of a quote, ‘It rains the hardest on the people who deserve the sun,’ and unfortunately in a lot of cases, it’s true.

    You’re absolutely right that you get to write what you want, and delete what you want too. It’s your blog. I worry a lot about the stuff I write on my blog too, a lot of it is personal, and I care a lot about what other people think about what I write. I guess that’s even harder for you because you’re not anonymous.

    Take care,

  4. Girl Cat looks cool; she has the most lovely green(ish) eyes.

    I can also see the hidden warrior within her, lulling those who become easily complacent into a false sense of security (I say that after my neighbour`s cat, Mozza, scratched my hand (1.5 inch scar no less!) as he was chasing a bit of string and I got too close to him.)

    You cannot go wrong with a cat around!

  5. I would be content if I just had to endure rain as opposed to the fucking tropical thunder storm I am living for the last 2 years.

  6. I will trade you 6 hours of sleep for 2 hours of having the energy to do things.

    Evil cat be evil. I likes 😀

  7. If all the people like you and I respond to sad and damaged people with compassion that soon adds up and makes a huge difference. The self righteous crap heads are just scared of being where the other person is and as well all know, humans tend to attack what they are scared of.

    Enjoy your time away from the interwebs x

  8. Well, if it’s any encouragement, my illnesses (in my mind) are ENTIRELY made up by how wonderful and supportive my family, friends, and fiance are. Most people I know don’t have nearly the support system in any of these social areas, much less all three! I don’t remember to tell them how grateful I am nearly as often as I should. No matter how sick I am, they reach out to catch me. ❤ them!

    In my world, at least, there is balance. I'm poor and sick, but I have everything I need to be whole.

  9. It is hard to comment on blogs. Sometimes it is hard for me to even write them knowing that I’ll put people through the trauma of not knowing what to say. Then some entries end up private, some published, some not posted at all, and I wish I had a clear rule to know what to do with it all.

    I think despite what you said, you are someone who has suffered a lot, and you deserve all the good things to at least compensate a bit. I don’t believe in karma or any universe balancing laws but I certainly wish something like that existed.

    About entry deletion, you’re not a reality show, or a character in a book. I think people sometimes forget that, and it’s what makes them become asses asking to get more and more like it was your responsibility to give them every single detail and thougth that goes accross your mind. I admire you for even blogging at all after all the judgement. I’d be under a rock.

    This an awfuly long comment for someone who started it with “it is hard to comment on blogs”.

  10. Sorry. I have a totally different take on this. I see those who have suffered the least as being the weak ones. The Power or powers that be, call it karma, whatever, have not put in their paths more than they can handle. Those who have suffered and endured are the strong. The fact is that we are born, we live, we die. While we are at it, at least find it interesting and perhaps even be interesting. Not that it will make an iota of difference in the long run – we are as a grain of sand – worn down from rock, gathered up among many, put through fire and transformed into glass. Through that you have a choice – see clearly, through a dark glass or a glass darkened only by a pint of Guinness!
    The only time that IS is NOW.

  11. Right. Don’t make fun of me too much here, but do you think hypnotherapy can work? I was lucky enough to go to a proper guy in London and not an evil reincarnation of nefertiti kind of person and the sleep cds really help me when the panic is at worse. At the minimum the fact that you breath deeply for the 20 minutes or so that it is on is a huge plus.
    Have a thought about it yea? If you can’t find any then I am of course willing to send you any and all that I have for you to try.
    Although I must point out that the “control your anger” ones turned me into the hulk for some reason.
    *hides from mockery*

  12. What I wanted to say, Isabel said it, 2 posts above. People that dont suffer they really had not a reason to. Or if they had a reason, they’re just emotionless, not stronger. For me, strong is he who has suffered but didn’t get swallowed by the beast. Strong is the one that got well, let go, kept going. Which I hope we all do 🙂

  13. ‘Like every day a favourite thing of theirs is delivered to them’, I love that concept!

    • Unfortunately, if you got your favourite thing every day it would stop being your favourite thing.

  14. With the thing about society treating those who have suffered most the worst, I think part of the problem is that a lot of people like to believe that life is fair. They believe that those who suffer deserved to suffer. They might believe in Karma and say that those who are suffering were evil in another life. Or they may believe in an all powerful and good god who chose to make people suffer because they deserved it (the song All Things Bright And Beautiful is like that). People who believe these things can be cruel to those who have already suffered safe in the knowledge that the people they are being cruel to deserve it and/or they are doing their god’s work by being cruel to them.

  15. “Well, if it’s any encouragement, my illnesses (in my mind) are ENTIRELY made up by how wonderful and supportive my family, friends, and fiance are.”

    Same here. I am incredibly lucky.

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