Reality Bites

When I started writing this blog, things came a lot more naturally to me than they do now. I don't know if its just the winter closing in or if I've had some sort of profound mental shift, but expressing things just feels a bit harder than it used to. In the beginning, I was keen to document all the little things that had made up the scenery along what I had dubbed the 'scenic route' that my life had taken – now, things in my life and my mind have taken up a much broader outlook, with real tangible rewards and consequences. I have no doubt its a much better place for me to be, but things overall do seem to have taken on a much duller pallet without the time to stop and admire the scenery. Maybe, to torture my metaphor further to the point where Amnesty International will have to step in, I've exited the beautiful if random forest of my scenic route and am now heading through the industrial estate portion of my journey?

I've always felt over the years that within my mind, I was stuck at the stage where I dropped out of school, and by extension, life. That the world had passed me by, and that my destiny and path were out of my own control, that I was merely sitting and waiting to react to whatever life had to throw at me next. Dreams of escaping my situation were always just that – far off dreams that relied on ifs, buts and a myriad clauses and conditions, 3 steps away that just needed a bit of luck to push me in the right direction before I could start to work towards them. Earlier in the year, I even managed to find one that would solve everything, transplant myself from all I am now virtually back in time with a simple change of scenery, and let me start over at 17 again while the real world waited on hold for me to take all the time I needed to find my feet.

I'm not 17 though. And regardless of what I've missed, and however extensive I might think the list is, the fact is that I've grown and learned lessons along the way from whatever other sources were available. They've not been conventional, and I'm aware that I'm in no way a typical 23 year old, but the fact remains that I've lived enough to see the world differently than I did then. And as nice as it would be to put my current, low-value 'wasted' life on hold while I venture off to reclaim everything that I've missed, the fact remains that while I was putting reality on hold, it would still change behind me.

So now, a different option has come up. One that I honestly never thought I'd see, but having presented itself I feel for the first time in my life has put the power of my own path back into my own hands. Instead of going back and trying to salvage anything... I can go forward. This isn't a dream or a fantasy, happening to some alternate version of me who can just manage to go out or who is untroubled by pain and fatigue, this is a genuine chance for me to find a place in the world, just the way that I am. It hurts to give up on that dream, but in exchange for something real and tangible, I'm sure that it will be worth it.

Backwards birthdays

Don't you hate it when you wake up in the morning feeling like... wait, wait, stop, I've done the Ke$ha joke before. Start over!

It's been a full 7 years now since I dropped out of school (and, by extension, society), and yet in my half-asleep dazed state this morning I still managed to whimper “but mummy, I don't WANT to go to school, I'm tiiiired!”. I'm just never going to be free of it, am I? I'll be 83, dreaming about that damn school bus. Assuming science doesn't find a cure for dreams by then, that is.

The framework and background time fillers have, as predicted, been slightly lacking this week, so I'm very fortunate that I've been able to be amused by some of the apparently backwards happenings around me, starting with a lovely parcel I got on Tuesday! See, I always thought that you were supposed to RECEIVE presents on your birthday, instead I've been sent a lovely bonus one from Alex before I've even sent hers! My parents seem to have got the whole birthday concept a bit wrong too, considering that they got a nice watch for the wrong brother. He might well need it now he's a big senior at school, but isn't a watch meant to be a 21^st sort of present? Maybe they thought if there were watches all round I'd feel left out, so just decided to prioritise the littlest son. Ha, now he knows how it feels!

You know, I'm not entirely sure I've got the right message out of watching House. I'm sure the writers thought they were getting across a responsible message about the dangers of painkiller abuse, instead I seem to have taken the view that it took him 5 years to have any adverse effects from them, therefore a month or so of scoffing them like smarties isn't going to do any damage. Actually come to think of it, the “being mean to a girl for an extended period of time until she finally admits she wants you” moral of the Cuddy arc has worked out pretty well for me too.

Oh, and for all who laughed under your breath about my hatching Bulbasaur eggs last entry? Calm nature with perfect HP, Defence and Special Attack IVs, making it one of the best in the world on the day that its revealed grass drain moves have received a power boost for the next gen. HA.

One Week

It's been a week now since I had the company of another human being – the first week of another 3 year wait? Hopefully not, but I'm still reliant on people coming to me instead of trying to get out there into the world to lasso up some friends for myself. I suppose then it's a good job that I'm so magnetic and charismatic that I can attract anyone here at all! Just need to focus on either making sure they come back, or never leave. And since that XL cage I ordered for last time never showed up, I guess I'll just need to work on being a fun and exciting host. I'm leaving negative feedback on that cage though.

I've already done a post here looking back over the years and reflecting on how far I've come, but its just hugely frustrating that the final roadblock, the last thing for me to get over and get back to some sort of normalcy is proving so difficult to get around. I've actually been out 3 times in the past week; not going anywhere in particular, but just trying to make some sort of symbolic stand against an imaginary construct of my limitations. Suffice to say, it's not gone so well.

I've been battling with M.E. for a full decade now, and I would say I've got a reasonable handle on my symptoms and how to manage them, so its all the more astounding really that I managed to misjudge this one so badly. Going out takes energy. Just because you insist that you're “trying harder” or putting up some sort of fight about it does not in any way negate the amount of energy that going out expends, leading to a rather major flaw in the plan of “I'll just do it lots and lots until it gets easier”.

My other brother returns from his travels in continental Europe tonight. He's my younger brother by age, but he passed by me socially many years ago. It doesn't help with the mid-life crisis when you're still pining over things and experiences that someone you're meant to be more advanced than has burned through them all and got sick of them! Next he'll be finished Uni and off into the world of employment, while my nights are filled with dreams of the school bus and sleepovers.

Still, I've got the chance to dazzle him with my culinary prowess that I've been working on while he's been away. Buttered pasta with grated cheese, and yes – I did grate that cheese myself.

Dreams, dreams, lala something littlest things...

More pretty followers! Welcome, my new friends, and thank you for taking an interest/increasing the pressure for me to write witty and insightful things! I didn't even have to resort to bribery either – I was pretty close to putting up some sort of coupons to try and force some new people to join. Present this exclusive code on MSN to prove that you've been reading to get 20% off your next bar of chocolate! Or something along those lines. Maybe that would help with the oh so mysterious anonymous people? If you unveil yourself I'll... give you some chocolate? It's an idea for the future anyway, as of just now my curiosity as to their ninja identities hasn't quite driven me to breaking point.

I've always known it doesn't take me long to run through my full range of anecdotes and run out of ways to make myself sound interesting, but I suppose its nice to put a number on it – 10 entries before the well runs dry. Maybe my brain is instead helpfully using up all my creativity for my sleep, finding new and interesting unrelated scenarios to place plane crashes into. I'm not afraid of heights or flying, I don't have any sort of issue when I'm awake with planes, but my subconscious seems determined to give me plenty of practice in dealing with highly improbably situations in which one has crashed nearby and I need to respond to it. We get planes flying over the house quite regularly though – maybe in my half-asleep status I'm just hearing one, and so my brain decides to accompany the noise that's leaked through to my dream with a full-blown situation?

Oh dear, entry 11 and there's so little going on in my waking life that I've had to resort to plumbing the depths of my dreams. At least I got off fairly lightly, I was dreading the potential consequences after I realised a little too late that it might not have been the smartest idea to start Resident Evil 4 before bed last night.

5 days til socialising! I'm a bit rusty when it comes to dealing with actual, live humans, so help me out here – they're generally between 9 and 15 feet tall, subside on nuts and small woodland creatures and are confused and frightened by open spaces, yes? I'd better select express delivery on that XXL sized cage to make sure it arrives on time.

Life is beautiful... but if you touch it you die?

I had a dream last night that I was on Big Brother. This is actually becoming something of a recurring dream for me... maybe it taps into some sort of deep, primal thing about being watched or judged. Anyway, in dream, I wondered why all the focus was on the poor people affected by Hurricane Katrina, since it would have been just as hard on the rich people who lost their homes too. Then I refused to do any of the tasks. I don't think I'd do very well on the real Big Brother.

When I went out to walk the dogs last night, all the overgrown weeds around the garden have sprouted gorgeous little delicate white flowers. I wonder if that's some kind of metaphor for life? On the other hand, the garden and moor are also filled with these beautiful deep purple flowers that are apparently highly poisonous. Depending on how I read it, I could extract conflicting meanings out of the blooming of beautiful flowers on the garden of my life. You're sending me mixed messages, universe.