you know those cliches about 30-something women? They're all true (in my case)

Okay, I got really mad.
I stopped taking my anti-depressants on Friday (against my doctors advice). I figure if i start feeling like shite then i can always start taking them again. They work on a very slow-release basis, so nothing dramatic is going to happen. I've still got the twitching, the numerical dyslexia and the inability to concentrate/ believe that anything is of much consequence really. However i can feel my sex-drive creeping back. I didn't even notice it had gone to be honest (or didn't much care) until the last couple of days. It's really been making me laugh, i've been revelling in it. It's really funny.
Other shifts have taken place -mostly yesterday actually- both inside and outside my body. The mucus blockage in my head started to move on down (a little too much information perhaps?). I could hardly breath in the morning but then it all started to come out (gross!) and by the evening my voice had almost returned to normal. My eyeballs are no longer squeaking and if i take paracetamol i feel almost human. Fuck Prozac, paracetamol's where it's at. It's been relaxing me to a frightening degree. I have slept through the day for hours on end- i was too scared to do this before because i thought i was depressed.
Yoga helped too.
The other thing is that my old yoga teacher is coming back! It's ridiculous, but when she left i cried a river. I cried when someone told me she was leaving; i cried when she announced it in class; i cried all through her last class and when i read her goodbye letter. I'm crying now just thinking about it. At the time i thought that was perhaps an unhealthy attachment to someone who is not after all a friend. But her voice was encrypted in my mind, it gave instructions when she was not there and was one of the few constants in the previous seven years of my life.
Anyway.
Today i had a massive gorgeous sleep and when i woke up i did two things that have been eluding me - both technical and related to my story-telling project.
I feel like i'm unfolding and i know i am not depressed.

Mrs Angry

I'm so angry.
I'm so angry i could go around screaming and shouting and hitting things if there were anyone here to listen.
I'm angry with every fucking arsehole who's ever trampled all over my feelings; i'm angry for every job i didn't get that i know i could have done; i'm angry that i always blame myself and that any lack of achievement in my life is only really down to me; i'm angry that i'm taking drugs to make me deal with things more in the way that other people do; i'm angry that my head is full of snot, i feel like shit and i've felt like this intermittently over the last two years; i'm angry that i can't breath like every body else does and i have to breath into a fucking tube to check how badly my lungs are performing; i'm angry that there's no one to look after me when things get like this.
I sat here and i thought i wasn't even going to be able to cry. I sat here thinking that my eyes are dry and nothing's going to come out. My feelings have been plastered over, smoothed out so that they look nice, so they can be painted on, and no one will have to look at those cracks and lines any more.
You're not supposed to look into the cracks are you: because you might fall in.

"...if that makes a difference"

It was my friend's thirtieth birthday party and i had decided to get really dressed up.
I wore this fabulous dress that i got in Chinatown in Soho ages ago. It's a full length dark green satin Cheongsam with a thigh high split at each side and a peacock embroidered in red and white thread on the front. It's tail feathers are not on display but curve down the skirt of the dress behind the bird. I wore red heels and far more make-up than i normally do. I was looking hot.
First of all he asked one of my friends, "who's the fox in the green dress?
Now i've met this guy lots of times before over the years, so i wasn't impressed that he had only just noticed me after all that time. Then he came and sat next to me and said, "Can just say that you look absolutely gorgeous. You're so burlesque."
Never been called that before; but it was unmistakably a compliment.
But he didn't overdo it, which is always a point-scorer in my book, he just let me get on with my night.
At the end of the night the birthday girl thanked him for DJing. Within my earshot he said, "No problem, i'll DJ for you any time, as long as she's there," and pointed in my direction.
Now this particular friend has a way of convincing me to do things in my love-life that i would not normally do. (I don't know why she has that effect on me- i could give you other examples but perhaps another time.) A few days later she's telling me that i should phone him and go for a drink with him. She gives me the low-down on his personal history and it all seems fine. I argue and say that i don't ask other people, they ask me. She gives me his number and i convince myself i should do it because i never do things like this, and everybody else does it and thinks nothing of it, and that's possibly why i'm the only single person i know.
So, i text him and ask him if he wants to go out....
The next day i get a reply which says that, sure we can go for a drink, but he's been seeing someone since the start of the year (NB. it was February) if that makes a difference.

How utterly perfect a message is that? The ultimate in ambiguous textual intercourse.

So, could be read as "we can go for a drink if you want to be friends" or equally "we can go for a drink if you are happy to proceed knowing that i have a girlfriend".

Am i being too obvious by spelling this out?

OMG!

This is the first time ever that i have had to force myself to write a post.
What's going on?
I don't know what to write about. Nothing seems exciting enough to put down. This is really weird, i don't like it.
I've really been enjoying your comments recently, maybe you could help me out. I could tell you a tale about my love-life; or i could tell you what i got up to in London a couple of weeks ago; my experience of the recent lunar eclipse or erm, struggling here.....it's all me, me, me isn't it?

I've labelled all my posts! This is not because i would like to tell you exactly what each post is about- then you might not even feel the need to read it!! No, i just like labels and boxes, they make me feel organazised. In fact i love it when you get a comment and you don't really understand what it means because the person who wrote it was thinking about something entirely different (or related in their mind). It's great when that happens. For the love of ambiguity, i invented the label 'miscellaneous'. These are the posts which resist being pinned down. These can be about anything you want them to be about. Indeed they will be better for it.
So, i didn't plan this post. It's the nearest to free-association that i'm going to get. "Can you tell what it is yet?"