I wonder where to begin
’Cause I’ve let it slide away
Like another yesterday
And it’s all crashing down
Tell me all the things that you lied about
Tell me all the things that I cried about
Were they true or were they false?
Tell me all the methods of hurt you used
Tell me was I right to feel overused
Was it a matter of consequence?
I am here to tell you
That you can’t get away
With everything you say
And now thanks to you
I’m broken inside
Sensitive to the light
And it’s all because of you
You made me feel so used
So I’m asking you this
Was it really my fault?
Could I have done anything at all
Do you regret anything you said
Or is it pushed to the back of your head
Do you just not care?
Tell me all the things that you lied about
Tell me all the things that I cried about
Were they true or were they false?
Did I have the right now to trust you
Did I have the right not to touch you
Was I just a slave to you?
Was I just a game to you?
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Psychasthenia
"Psychasthenia is a psychological disorder characterized by phobias, obsessions, compulsions, or excessive anxiety.
The MMPI subscale 7 describes psychasthenia as akin to obsessive-compulsive disorder, and as characterised by excessive doubts, compulsions, obsessions, and unreasonable fears. The psychasthenic have an inability to resist specific actions or thoughts, regardless of their maladaptive nature. In addition to obsessive-compulsive features, the scale taps abnormal fears, self-criticism, difficulties in concentration, and feelings of guilt. The scale assesses long-term anxiety, although it is somewhat responsive to situational stress as well.
The psychasthenic have insufficient control over their conscious thinking and memory, sometimes wandering aimlessly and/or forgetting what they were doing. Thoughts can be scattered and take significant effort to organize, sometimes resulting in sentences that don't come out as intended, therefore making little sense to others. The psychasthenic may be of extraordinarily high intelligence, but often do not perform at their peak as a result of mental interference by obsessions or phobias. The constant mental effort and characteristic insomnia induces fatigue, which worsens the condition. One may also suffer persistant muscle spasms or uncontrollable twitches when experiencing serious mental disruption."
So I'm extending to each and every one of you this question: do you know the line between your friend being a little down to being self-harming and suicidal? Would you even know if you yourself were suffering a phobia or a compulsion, or would you just accept yourself as being fine?
I know that my thoughts are irrational. Yet I cannot stop them. Or even slow their progress. And they are, more and more rapidly, eating away at me.
So what the hell is wrong with me? Will I ever know?
Somebody help me.
The MMPI subscale 7 describes psychasthenia as akin to obsessive-compulsive disorder, and as characterised by excessive doubts, compulsions, obsessions, and unreasonable fears. The psychasthenic have an inability to resist specific actions or thoughts, regardless of their maladaptive nature. In addition to obsessive-compulsive features, the scale taps abnormal fears, self-criticism, difficulties in concentration, and feelings of guilt. The scale assesses long-term anxiety, although it is somewhat responsive to situational stress as well.
The psychasthenic have insufficient control over their conscious thinking and memory, sometimes wandering aimlessly and/or forgetting what they were doing. Thoughts can be scattered and take significant effort to organize, sometimes resulting in sentences that don't come out as intended, therefore making little sense to others. The psychasthenic may be of extraordinarily high intelligence, but often do not perform at their peak as a result of mental interference by obsessions or phobias. The constant mental effort and characteristic insomnia induces fatigue, which worsens the condition. One may also suffer persistant muscle spasms or uncontrollable twitches when experiencing serious mental disruption."
So I'm extending to each and every one of you this question: do you know the line between your friend being a little down to being self-harming and suicidal? Would you even know if you yourself were suffering a phobia or a compulsion, or would you just accept yourself as being fine?
I know that my thoughts are irrational. Yet I cannot stop them. Or even slow their progress. And they are, more and more rapidly, eating away at me.
So what the hell is wrong with me? Will I ever know?
Somebody help me.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Some Saturdays
Last night was one of those nights I really enjoy and cherish. It was the kind of night when you just sit around and everything falls into place.
There were some minor hiccoughs in the early afternoon, but things eventually blew over and I was able to relax and let some scratches heal over.
Justin, Matt, Ben and I had a lovely time teasing Sam, playing games and moshing.
Some of the horrible cruelties we subjected Samuel to while he was sleeping include: spraying Lynx onto an open flame beside his face, flicking rubber bands at his face, singing Aboriginal chants at the top of our lungs, shooting cap guns at him, throwing ourselves onto him, putting shaving cream on him (or attempting to) and moshing - resulting in everything falling off of Ben's bookcase after a particularly brutal fall by Justin.
There were some minor hiccoughs in the early afternoon, but things eventually blew over and I was able to relax and let some scratches heal over.
Justin, Matt, Ben and I had a lovely time teasing Sam, playing games and moshing.
Some of the horrible cruelties we subjected Samuel to while he was sleeping include: spraying Lynx onto an open flame beside his face, flicking rubber bands at his face, singing Aboriginal chants at the top of our lungs, shooting cap guns at him, throwing ourselves onto him, putting shaving cream on him (or attempting to) and moshing - resulting in everything falling off of Ben's bookcase after a particularly brutal fall by Justin.
Justin: Sometimes you're so lame, it's unbelievable.
Matt: Sometimes you're so not lame, it is believable!
Alyssa: Fuck you, Ben.
Ben: Not tonight, thanks.
Guy on GTA4: Fuck meeeee!
[All start laughing hysterically]
Matt: Outta the way, Kombi van!
[Matt quotes himself]
Alyssa: I don't think you should be bragging about making some of the worst calls ever!
[Ben, Justin, Matt and Alyssa sing Indigenous Australian chants]
Sam: What the fuck are you doing?
Justin: It's your native chant!
[Sam leave the room]
Justin: Milika! Hey, Milika!
Justin, Ben and Alyssa [singing]: I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now.
Alyssa: I think we all know that, deep down inside, Justin was singing that to someone else in the car that day. That's right, Justin. It's okay. I know how you feel about me. I see the way you look at me...
Justin: What the fuck?! Shut the fuck up!
Good times, great classic hits.
P.S. Justin said something very true last night. He said, "One day you'll look back on this night, smile and remember these as the good old days. But, as they say, youth is wasted on the young."
'Night.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Summer mumble
For months I have waited. Through the falling leaves, the frosty 6:00am awakenings and the first signs of spring, I have patiently gone on with my life, anticipating this feeling's return. It's a glorious and overwhelming feeling, looking on powerlessly as the fourth season lets its final adjustments creep into the city - summer has arrived.
No more water will leak into my shoes as I brush the icy morning off of the grass. No more torn stockings to pull up over palid legs. No more hot chips, indoor dinners, mosquito free nights. Sleep no longer an everyday thing in the struggle against the heatwaves that creep into my room, promoted by my tin roof and lack of insulation.
Slowly but surely, Christmas decorations fill department stores, the smell of tinsel and artificial pine trees lifts me up in euphoric delight. I think of cherry cakes, golden gifts and family arguments. I think of riding my bike to see the Christmas houses late at night and eating too many icy poles. The scent of "fake cold" - air conditioners droning under the summer sun and into the summer nights.
One year I remember laying in bed on top of the blankets at 5 am wanting to hold his hand.
The next year I remember laying in bed on top of the blankets at 5 am thinking how amazing it was that he was holding my hand.
This year I anticipate an empty bed. Holding my pillow, sobbing into the darkness. Big, scary, empty darkness. Nothing to run from; no-one to run to.
Kris Kringle, candy canes, receiving the same Kmart cards from everybody in class, buying your best friends matching presents from the $2 shop, window shopping to the sound of Greensleeves in the city at night, sleeping in next to nothing if you're lucky.
These things to me are all synonymous with summer and the drowsy, satisfying feeling that comes with it.
I make a pact that summer '08 will be my best yet - if that's possible.
No more water will leak into my shoes as I brush the icy morning off of the grass. No more torn stockings to pull up over palid legs. No more hot chips, indoor dinners, mosquito free nights. Sleep no longer an everyday thing in the struggle against the heatwaves that creep into my room, promoted by my tin roof and lack of insulation.
Slowly but surely, Christmas decorations fill department stores, the smell of tinsel and artificial pine trees lifts me up in euphoric delight. I think of cherry cakes, golden gifts and family arguments. I think of riding my bike to see the Christmas houses late at night and eating too many icy poles. The scent of "fake cold" - air conditioners droning under the summer sun and into the summer nights.
One year I remember laying in bed on top of the blankets at 5 am wanting to hold his hand.
The next year I remember laying in bed on top of the blankets at 5 am thinking how amazing it was that he was holding my hand.
This year I anticipate an empty bed. Holding my pillow, sobbing into the darkness. Big, scary, empty darkness. Nothing to run from; no-one to run to.
Kris Kringle, candy canes, receiving the same Kmart cards from everybody in class, buying your best friends matching presents from the $2 shop, window shopping to the sound of Greensleeves in the city at night, sleeping in next to nothing if you're lucky.
These things to me are all synonymous with summer and the drowsy, satisfying feeling that comes with it.
I make a pact that summer '08 will be my best yet - if that's possible.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Calm (I'm a junkie)
I knew this would happen, and I've been waiting for it. Heavy drops of sweat pound like a leaky tap; I feel seasick on land. I feel hot, but my skin is like ice. A vice-like bind grips my abdomen, pulling and pushing me - I swing between jerky convulsions as though I am freezing and sick to smooth, wavering sways, like a skyscraper in an earthquake.
I feel the vomit in my throat before it runs freely from my mouth and nose. Have I been coughing blood? My very own Mallory-Weiss tear. I feel so proud. My face contorts in raw, physical anguish - this pain is unbearable - I need my hit. Lift me from this dysphoric torture; I've been abandoned and I'm so very alone.
I blink slowly, letting salty tears roll silently over my eyelashes and onto my cheek bones. It's been 14,460 seconds since we lay here in my bed, clutching each other like colliding parentheses - I'm coming down, weaker every second. So parched, my mouth is a desert and my breath a sandstorm corroding and stealing every last ounce of moisture I have. My throat is closing up... I wonder how much longer I can last off of this rattling, suffocated respiration.
Every muscle in my body is rotting away, leaving me motionless, paralyzed on the hard wooden floor. I know that if I give up now I won't make it. It's been 46,840 seconds. How many more before you come to fix me? With every slowing heartbeat I see more and more clearly the truth, that you are never coming back.
And throughout all of this it is only in my final seconds that I realise I am utterly helpless - addicted to you. I savour the sight before my glassy, emerald eyes - just a bed that we once lay in, in love - for I am at last able to accept that it will be my last. I close my eyes, letting it wash over me. I am finally, for the first time in my life, completely calm. By the time the next wave of sorrow life tries to hurl my way reaches my bedroom door, I am already dead.
Crumbling in your sorry embrace.
I feel the vomit in my throat before it runs freely from my mouth and nose. Have I been coughing blood? My very own Mallory-Weiss tear. I feel so proud. My face contorts in raw, physical anguish - this pain is unbearable - I need my hit. Lift me from this dysphoric torture; I've been abandoned and I'm so very alone.
I blink slowly, letting salty tears roll silently over my eyelashes and onto my cheek bones. It's been 14,460 seconds since we lay here in my bed, clutching each other like colliding parentheses - I'm coming down, weaker every second. So parched, my mouth is a desert and my breath a sandstorm corroding and stealing every last ounce of moisture I have. My throat is closing up... I wonder how much longer I can last off of this rattling, suffocated respiration.
Every muscle in my body is rotting away, leaving me motionless, paralyzed on the hard wooden floor. I know that if I give up now I won't make it. It's been 46,840 seconds. How many more before you come to fix me? With every slowing heartbeat I see more and more clearly the truth, that you are never coming back.
And throughout all of this it is only in my final seconds that I realise I am utterly helpless - addicted to you. I savour the sight before my glassy, emerald eyes - just a bed that we once lay in, in love - for I am at last able to accept that it will be my last. I close my eyes, letting it wash over me. I am finally, for the first time in my life, completely calm. By the time the next wave of sorrow life tries to hurl my way reaches my bedroom door, I am already dead.
Crumbling in your sorry embrace.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Hiding
I'm so sick of hiding under this false, battered shell. I feel like I'm trapped inside my own worthless body, the one that I've made a living hell of a life for. Maybe if I hadn't chosen such a path to follow, I would still be normal and the person I had longed to become. But I'm not. And I can't go back in time. So I guess I'm stuck like this, imprisoned forever in my own machine.
That's how I see myself, actually. My brain is like a big bundle of thoughts, ideas and emotions and it uses my body, the machine, to do all the things my brain wants to do but can't. I wish there was some way to switch all my thoughts and ideas into a different body. Then I could start fresh, and not have to deal with all the nonsense I've created. I'd never have to deal with Ben or anyone else again. I could just move on with my life and make a new future for myself, one that simply, and sadly, isn't possible in the form of Alyssa-Jayne.
I've been crying for three days straight, and I keep getting a blood nose from bashing it into my bedpost (which has now snapped off). My stomach and back hurt. My head is throbbing. And he's warned me that within days he will do something so powerfully devastating that my entire life (if you could call it a life) will be turned upside down.
The thought that he has the force to do such a thing when I am already so low is really, truly hard to wrap my head around.
I'm on the very brink, and so close to falling off. But I don't think that anybody really understands the true gravity of my situation.
Not even myself.
That's how I see myself, actually. My brain is like a big bundle of thoughts, ideas and emotions and it uses my body, the machine, to do all the things my brain wants to do but can't. I wish there was some way to switch all my thoughts and ideas into a different body. Then I could start fresh, and not have to deal with all the nonsense I've created. I'd never have to deal with Ben or anyone else again. I could just move on with my life and make a new future for myself, one that simply, and sadly, isn't possible in the form of Alyssa-Jayne.
I've been crying for three days straight, and I keep getting a blood nose from bashing it into my bedpost (which has now snapped off). My stomach and back hurt. My head is throbbing. And he's warned me that within days he will do something so powerfully devastating that my entire life (if you could call it a life) will be turned upside down.
The thought that he has the force to do such a thing when I am already so low is really, truly hard to wrap my head around.
I'm on the very brink, and so close to falling off. But I don't think that anybody really understands the true gravity of my situation.
Not even myself.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Our Little World
Somewhere, waiting, yet undiscovered lands
Run with me there, with my heart in your hands
There’s a place where the rainbow really does end
And under that ninth cloud our lives we will spend
Where apples glow bright in a warm summer’s light
And fires glow warm in dead-cold winter nights
As creatures roam the enchanted woods
We’ll make daisy-chains and smile long, hard and good
Remember when fear was the heart of love?
Angry ghosts screaming down on me from high above
But pulled from the shadows I took your hand
And let you take me through the door to the newfound land
And it’s here that we’ll own ocean, land and the skies
All our power in gazes from true lovers’ eyes
Ripples on the lake from the heart-shaped rock hurled
Every wish that we make expands our fresh little world
We’ll fall asleep in our thoughts on beds made of stone
Smiling softly because, we’re no longer alone.
Run with me there, with my heart in your hands
There’s a place where the rainbow really does end
And under that ninth cloud our lives we will spend
Where apples glow bright in a warm summer’s light
And fires glow warm in dead-cold winter nights
As creatures roam the enchanted woods
We’ll make daisy-chains and smile long, hard and good
Remember when fear was the heart of love?
Angry ghosts screaming down on me from high above
But pulled from the shadows I took your hand
And let you take me through the door to the newfound land
And it’s here that we’ll own ocean, land and the skies
All our power in gazes from true lovers’ eyes
Ripples on the lake from the heart-shaped rock hurled
Every wish that we make expands our fresh little world
We’ll fall asleep in our thoughts on beds made of stone
Smiling softly because, we’re no longer alone.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Veggie Tales
Well this is my second post today and I'm reporting on a very special incident that occured tonight. My mother and I braved the heavy winter rains and drove to Warringal shopping centre for a bit of light shopping.
Our aim was to collect ingredients necessary for our German cook out tomorrow night, primarily a loaf of Vienna/sourdough bread.
Whilst there, we decided to grab some fruit and veg for the week. Since I had brought my camera, I decided to document the trip by photographing (for the first time, up close and personal) my fruity local friends.
Warning: some images may contain undesirable content (greens). Viewer discretion is advised.
And then there was my precious bread roll. Now eaten, this baby just couldn't stay in the trolley. After her first tumble, I took a photo to remember her by before we got home and she went to the other side.
Our aim was to collect ingredients necessary for our German cook out tomorrow night, primarily a loaf of Vienna/sourdough bread.
Whilst there, we decided to grab some fruit and veg for the week. Since I had brought my camera, I decided to document the trip by photographing (for the first time, up close and personal) my fruity local friends.
Warning: some images may contain undesirable content (greens). Viewer discretion is advised.
And then there was my precious bread roll. Now eaten, this baby just couldn't stay in the trolley. After her first tumble, I took a photo to remember her by before we got home and she went to the other side.
But she wasn't done yet! Ohhh no, she still had one more topple before we reached the car... this time on a less pleasant surface.
Anyhow now that you've longingly gazed at my lush apples, I'm off to bed.
Gute Nacht.
Anyhow now that you've longingly gazed at my lush apples, I'm off to bed.
Gute Nacht.
Pressure
I feel like the world is thrusting itself onto my shoulders and laughing as my weak stature crumbles beneath its mass.
Why does everything have to be so damn hard? School. Society. Health. Him. It's all overwhelming and I really do wonder how much longer I can just go on saying it'll all be okay, it'll work itself out.
My throat is raw and my back muscles feel like they've been pulverised. I am missing the last two periods of school thanks to my dear boyfriend whose only consistancy is making me feel awful. And on top of that I look forward to a long, lonely weekend.
Sometimes I wonder why I even bother with him. I try so hard to make him happy but he refuses to talk to me, to open up, to trust me. And I don't know if I can trust him anymore after everything that's occurred in the past one year, six months and 20 days.
Is love really enough to withstand the elements of such a hard, cruel world?
Anyway, I'll stop drilling your brain with my complaints and look on the bright side of things.
It is now just over 3 months before I leave my sleepy little home in Macleod for a 4-week study tour in Europe. It still seems a long way off, but no doubt November 18th will arrive sooner than I expect.
We'll stay mainly in Germany but also Austria and France. I am extremely anxious to try all the delicious German and Austrian food - if Ben's Oma's cooking is anything to go by, those Austrians sure know their 'Essen'. Of course, restaurants are never quite the same as eating at the homemade European feasts, the table set for six and catering for twenty, but when it comes to Wiener Schnitzel with Wiener Kartoffelnsalat and Knödel (that is, for you non-German-speaking folk, Viennese potato salad and dumplings), you simply can't go wrong.
It's all very exciting, so far we've paid $4500 out of something like $8000. I can't wait to go. I've only really been out of Victoria once, for a 5 day school camp in Canberra - which, by the way, was amazing - but this is international!
For 11 days we stay with a host family but for the remainder of the time we're in youth hostels etc. I will be spending some time with Ben's family over there, too; I'm pretty much as big a part of the Prosch family as he is.
Well that's all for now.
Why does everything have to be so damn hard? School. Society. Health. Him. It's all overwhelming and I really do wonder how much longer I can just go on saying it'll all be okay, it'll work itself out.
My throat is raw and my back muscles feel like they've been pulverised. I am missing the last two periods of school thanks to my dear boyfriend whose only consistancy is making me feel awful. And on top of that I look forward to a long, lonely weekend.
Sometimes I wonder why I even bother with him. I try so hard to make him happy but he refuses to talk to me, to open up, to trust me. And I don't know if I can trust him anymore after everything that's occurred in the past one year, six months and 20 days.
Is love really enough to withstand the elements of such a hard, cruel world?
Anyway, I'll stop drilling your brain with my complaints and look on the bright side of things.
It is now just over 3 months before I leave my sleepy little home in Macleod for a 4-week study tour in Europe. It still seems a long way off, but no doubt November 18th will arrive sooner than I expect.
We'll stay mainly in Germany but also Austria and France. I am extremely anxious to try all the delicious German and Austrian food - if Ben's Oma's cooking is anything to go by, those Austrians sure know their 'Essen'. Of course, restaurants are never quite the same as eating at the homemade European feasts, the table set for six and catering for twenty, but when it comes to Wiener Schnitzel with Wiener Kartoffelnsalat and Knödel (that is, for you non-German-speaking folk, Viennese potato salad and dumplings), you simply can't go wrong.
It's all very exciting, so far we've paid $4500 out of something like $8000. I can't wait to go. I've only really been out of Victoria once, for a 5 day school camp in Canberra - which, by the way, was amazing - but this is international!
For 11 days we stay with a host family but for the remainder of the time we're in youth hostels etc. I will be spending some time with Ben's family over there, too; I'm pretty much as big a part of the Prosch family as he is.
Well that's all for now.
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