I've seen a lot of films.
I've watched a lot of TV shows.
I've read a lot of books.
It takes a lot for me to say that something has had a profound impact on my life, when it comes to books and films etc... The film I saw tonight (see title) was absolutely incredible. I mean, wow. I've been blown away.
It's about this Autistic kid whose dad is a victim of the September 11th terrorist attacks on the World Trade Centre in New York. His dad used to so things with him like set up trails, keeping him entertained by using his logic. A year after his death, the kid (Oskar) finds a key - he doesn't know what it's for and goes on a search of the entirity of New York City to find its lock. I won't share the ending, but the best way to sum it up is that the journey he finds himself going on brings him closer to his mother. In any other film it'd be clichéd, but in this context it rips your heart from inside your chest.
When he turned to her, cool as a cucumber, and said "I wish it had been you" I almost wailed. I have never cried so hard at a film in my life, literally. The way she responds by saying "So do I" just makes it hit you that bit harder.
If I've learned anything in the last few weeks and months, it's that your parents are the only people who will ever really love you from the deep depths of their heart. No matter how badly you mess up, no matter how wrong you get life, no matter how much you put them through - they may wash their hands of you but they never stop caring, never stop loving. It's made me realise how much I value the relationship I have with my mum and dad. It's made me even more angry that there are kids out there who will never see their mum or dad again and yet there are women callous enough to deliberately bar their children from their fathers. Shame on those women, and may your souls be damned for doing that to your child.
I've been so angry lately that I've had the "born alone, die alone" philosophy, I've tried to love people in the wrong way. The fact is, the only people who will never ever let me down are my family. Every friend, every lover, ever partner, every acquaintance - they have come, gone, passed through and left a path of destruction. My family have never done that to me. Everyone else is irrelevant - I value friendship but I'd never chose a man over my mum. I'm can't be the one who hurts her time and time again - I have been a royal pain in the arse and she still loves me, she till comforts me, she's still there at any time of day wherever I may be calling from on Earth. Where have my friends been when I've been crying myself to sleep? Where have my friends been when I've been in so much pain I can barely breathe? Where were my friends when there was an 8 hour time difference? I can't answer that question.
I wasn't born alone. I will not die alone. That's what family's about.
Saturday 25 February 2012
Monday 13 February 2012
A self-pitying rant.
Before I begin, I'd just like to point out that I am fully aware that there are people who have it worse than I do. But those people don't live MY life do they? They're not waking up in my body with their things on my mind. Selfush? Yes. About bloody time.
So today was another trip to the physio. Since October 2011, it's been a regular fixtur and it doesn't look like one that's set to change. This bloody arm and the poxy nerves inside it are NOT being helped along by stress, life, or anything else being thrown my way. As it happens, the pins and needles/ recurrign numbness that's now featuring down my left hand side as well isn';t "just stress". I have not only buggered my arm, I've done my neck apparently. AS IF. Who knows how long it's going to take to get better, if it does, and who knows what else could be affected by it. And STILL I am entitled to NO HELP from Uni whatsoever.
I could use a series of 4-letter words to describe how I feel but what's the point? I'm angry, I'm upset, I'm confused, but what's the point in getting worked up over something I can do nothing about except pop a new sort of painkillers? Yay, more painkillers. How about stopping the painkillers and actually DOING SOMETHING. I thought that the NHS were meant to help but at the moment I'm just frustrated because at every single turn I walk into a brick wall. Wall after bloody wall of bricks.
I give up.
So today was another trip to the physio. Since October 2011, it's been a regular fixtur and it doesn't look like one that's set to change. This bloody arm and the poxy nerves inside it are NOT being helped along by stress, life, or anything else being thrown my way. As it happens, the pins and needles/ recurrign numbness that's now featuring down my left hand side as well isn';t "just stress". I have not only buggered my arm, I've done my neck apparently. AS IF. Who knows how long it's going to take to get better, if it does, and who knows what else could be affected by it. And STILL I am entitled to NO HELP from Uni whatsoever.
I could use a series of 4-letter words to describe how I feel but what's the point? I'm angry, I'm upset, I'm confused, but what's the point in getting worked up over something I can do nothing about except pop a new sort of painkillers? Yay, more painkillers. How about stopping the painkillers and actually DOING SOMETHING. I thought that the NHS were meant to help but at the moment I'm just frustrated because at every single turn I walk into a brick wall. Wall after bloody wall of bricks.
I give up.
Sunday 5 February 2012
Wow, It's been a while!!
So, the last time I logged into this was way back in 2009... it's definitely been an eventuful few years.
In that time I've been in and out of work and started at uni in Sunderland. The things I could say about people might be slanderous so I won't even start. What I will say is that in my last job in met the man of my dreams. Naturally, at the time I thought he was a total prick - as you do! Over the last year he has been my absolute rock. We've been on and off because he's got his problems and I've certainly got mine. It would seem though, that no matter how bad it gets I know I can always open up with him. We've got 2 things a lot of others dont - honesty and trust. He talks to me, tells me everything. By the end of the conversation we both end up wondering what we were worried about in the first place. At the moment we're off, but we still talk every day and the prospect of getting it back together. Clichés come about for a reason - you DO know when it's right :)
So anyway, I thought I'd get back on here to straighten a few things out in my mind. At the moment, I can't say that I'm enjoying myself. I love uni don't get me wrong, it's just everything else. You think someone understands and then you find out that they really don't and they're actually doing everything in their power to hold it against you. I've been honest from day one about the state of my mental health - and sometimes hearing a phrase like that fills people with dread. Mental Health. What does it mean to you?
To me, it means memories you can't ever quite escape from that shape who your are. From massive things like your mood, to the parts people don't think about like your sleeping pattern. My life has been shaped by a series of traumatic events. Some days I cope, some days I don't - it's that simple. Some days I can get up and have an absolutely lovely day, sometimes I cry myself to sleep at night and can't bare to face another human being. It's what depression and PTSD do to someone... Oh, but PTSD is the Soldier's Disease. WRONG. VERY WRONG. I won't go over events from as far back as 2004 and 2008, but some of the events of 2011 will always have an impact on what goes on in my life and the choices I make.
You'd think a hospital is somewhere you'll feel safe, somewhere you'll leave feeling better than when you went in. I can't say that that's the case for when I was in Hong Kong. Again, I won't go into specifics but don't ever read your own medical records if you get the chance. They called it a "Physchotic Episode", I call it "being distressed at having not eaten for a week or drunk for 5 days and being sent home 3 times previously with the same problem despite barely being able to get out of bed when the vomiting didn't stop".
I guess that some people in life are made scapegoats, and I am one of those people. I am one of those people where everything bad will be put on me and everything good will be none of my doing. I accept that now. Everywhere I go there is someone prepared to have a pop over the tiniest thing. I've reached the stage where I don't even know what I'm doing wrong so I barely open my mouth. On the other side of the coin, some people are just bullies - nasty, selfish bullies. I won't be made to feel worse than I already do because one person has an issue with who I am and how I deal with my problems. If I've done something wrong, tell me. Talk to me about it like I'm an adult, don't shout at me like I'm 5 years old and slam doors like you're the 5 year old. We're 20 and 21, grow up. It just goes to show that Private Education doesn't teach you about respect for other people. Selfish bitch.
End of rant. Although I daresay I'll be ranting a lot more in the next couple of years. Grr.
x
In that time I've been in and out of work and started at uni in Sunderland. The things I could say about people might be slanderous so I won't even start. What I will say is that in my last job in met the man of my dreams. Naturally, at the time I thought he was a total prick - as you do! Over the last year he has been my absolute rock. We've been on and off because he's got his problems and I've certainly got mine. It would seem though, that no matter how bad it gets I know I can always open up with him. We've got 2 things a lot of others dont - honesty and trust. He talks to me, tells me everything. By the end of the conversation we both end up wondering what we were worried about in the first place. At the moment we're off, but we still talk every day and the prospect of getting it back together. Clichés come about for a reason - you DO know when it's right :)
So anyway, I thought I'd get back on here to straighten a few things out in my mind. At the moment, I can't say that I'm enjoying myself. I love uni don't get me wrong, it's just everything else. You think someone understands and then you find out that they really don't and they're actually doing everything in their power to hold it against you. I've been honest from day one about the state of my mental health - and sometimes hearing a phrase like that fills people with dread. Mental Health. What does it mean to you?
To me, it means memories you can't ever quite escape from that shape who your are. From massive things like your mood, to the parts people don't think about like your sleeping pattern. My life has been shaped by a series of traumatic events. Some days I cope, some days I don't - it's that simple. Some days I can get up and have an absolutely lovely day, sometimes I cry myself to sleep at night and can't bare to face another human being. It's what depression and PTSD do to someone... Oh, but PTSD is the Soldier's Disease. WRONG. VERY WRONG. I won't go over events from as far back as 2004 and 2008, but some of the events of 2011 will always have an impact on what goes on in my life and the choices I make.
You'd think a hospital is somewhere you'll feel safe, somewhere you'll leave feeling better than when you went in. I can't say that that's the case for when I was in Hong Kong. Again, I won't go into specifics but don't ever read your own medical records if you get the chance. They called it a "Physchotic Episode", I call it "being distressed at having not eaten for a week or drunk for 5 days and being sent home 3 times previously with the same problem despite barely being able to get out of bed when the vomiting didn't stop".
I guess that some people in life are made scapegoats, and I am one of those people. I am one of those people where everything bad will be put on me and everything good will be none of my doing. I accept that now. Everywhere I go there is someone prepared to have a pop over the tiniest thing. I've reached the stage where I don't even know what I'm doing wrong so I barely open my mouth. On the other side of the coin, some people are just bullies - nasty, selfish bullies. I won't be made to feel worse than I already do because one person has an issue with who I am and how I deal with my problems. If I've done something wrong, tell me. Talk to me about it like I'm an adult, don't shout at me like I'm 5 years old and slam doors like you're the 5 year old. We're 20 and 21, grow up. It just goes to show that Private Education doesn't teach you about respect for other people. Selfish bitch.
End of rant. Although I daresay I'll be ranting a lot more in the next couple of years. Grr.
x
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