Writing on the Wall

Thank you for your birthday wishes.
One of the presents i got for my birthday was a book by David Shrigley called 'KILL YOUR PETS'. I really like David Shrigley. This book is full of slogans that kind of make sense but you have to read them a couple of times to get the joke. The book is in a small square format exactly the size of a CD case. This adds to the difficulty in reading the slogans as they are all written in large black capital scrawl. I find this funny also.
When i was a kid there was some graffiti on a wall opposite the shops near where we lived. It said:

IPSWICH FOR UNDERPANTRY AND BEWTY

i always thought that when i grew up, i would understand what that meant. [I also thought that girls grew up they had to wear tan tights]
More recently, i went to an exhibition where you could scribble on wallpapered walls (i copied the line above).
How cool would it be if someone somewhere reading this post knew what that meant???!!!***
Even better: what if you were the person who scrawled that on a wall near my old house.....or any wall, anywhere for that matter!
That would be great if that happened.

Prozac Nation

Why am I awake at 4am?
I think it's the drugs (this effect rings a bell from last time).
However, i am not lying in bed riddled with irrational fears about everything from my life insurance to the apocolypse, so this is an improvement. The last couple of nights, i've found myself thinking creatively in my 'awake period', so tonight i thought i'd get up and make the most of it.
I watched a programme years ago (when Prozac was bigger news) where Bernard Sumner-who admitted to being slightly depressive- took a Prozac trial to see if it affected his creativity. The result was that it did! When he took Prozac and felt better he found that he wasn't so bothered about writing great songs....Personally i think depression can be crippling and destructive as well as a way to convert pain into art.
Yesterday i saw a tabloid newspaper headline with the catch-phrase above. I didn't bother going over to read it because it was inevitably going to be a load of bollocks.
I sound like some kind of advocate for pharmaceuticals, but i assure you i'm not. The next phase is to find an alternative to taking them - cue rebirth as nutritional/environmental/plant-based/religious transformation takes place. [Joking about the religious thing.]
I've just eaten a banana.
This may seem uninteresting, but i ate it because i was hungry. During my recent episode, i was convinced that i was waking up because of a blood sugar drop. My rationale for this was that i eat so much chocolate during the day. So when i was waking up with "the fear" i was caning bananas to try and get some mental and physical balance back. I also made myself a compilation CD with songs on it that i can only now describe as comfort songs. I played it over and over again to try and distract myself from the thoughts that were on constant replay.
I called it Bananas at Bedtime.
Anyway i'm going back to bed now. It's my birthday tomorrow and i've invited about thirty people over so i need some sleep. I don't need my CD, i feel better now. This is good.

Back (Like James Brown)

I'm back. In my new house, broadband connected, bring it on.
I'm proud of myself really: i managed to move house whilst feeling like shite; i took the drugs like a good girl and they worked; i've got the house in some kind of order and i have returned to work today. I did not lay down and give up. i will not be beaten.
The doctor gave me a leaflet about stress and anxiety today. As she was looking through her stock she read out the extraneous titles, "Obsessive Compulsive Disorders', 'Voices'... Oh, here we are 'Coping with stress'!"
Perhaps she was trying to put it all into some perspective for me.
The only physical symptom remaining is that if i'm feeling nervous, my left arm and leg go a bit numb. They don't completely lose feeling, but they feel weird. I need to pinch myself and say 'I don't care' like the counsellor told me to. This really works. Power of positive speech. Let nothing in my life be negative (with or without drugs) i will strive not to let negativity overtake me- either my own or that of others.
This morning as i looked out of my window, people on my new street were putting out their bins for collection (all at the same time funnily). An old lady across the road came out in a full length maroon dressing gown. As she dropped off her bin, she looked across the street and smiled and lifted her hand to greet her neighbour. This is not familiar territory for me. I found myself thinking that living here is like being part of a David Lynch movie- but the birds in my garden are real and nothing bad is going to happen because i won't let it.

Tuesday 24th October

Still can't face up to any of the things that are queueing up for my attention. Stayed at mums last night. Woke up at 1.30am and inevitably started thinking, "it's going to happen again." In a cold sweat, despite two duvets, but manage to talk myself into calming down. Picturing the chemicals draining back the other way: going out from my head, down my body and leaving through my toes. Manage to force myself to read a book. Semi-awake till about six when i get up.
Decide to take mum up on her offer and go for a walk. Can't bear thought of going home to sort eveything out. Get my boots on and pound eight miles, some of it up moderate hills. Find it really hard work. Can't make conversation, constantly replaying the events of the last few days in my head. Driving myself nuts.
I need to get it down. Get down and stay down. Get out of my head because i've got things to do, and i don't want to feel like this anymore.

Sunday 22nd October

Feeling relatively okay today, although persistent negative thoughts abound. Not been sleeping well, so probably exhaustion has taken the edge off it a bit.
Take some stuff to the tip and try and think about some of the millions things that i need to do but don't really feel up to.
Day goes by, i ring friends in the evening to try and gain further perspective.
Thankfully start feeling sleepy and go to bed.

BANG! No idea what time it is but i'm wide awake again. That feeling starts creeping over me again but this time i've got pins and needles in my left arm as well. I sit up and try and get some feeling back in my arm. I'ts not working. I'm rubbing it and moving it round but it's still buzzing. I'm really panicking now, i'm connecting the lack of feeling in my arm with my spine problem. The curve of my spine is somehow blocking the circulation in my arm. I'm sweating and stink of fear. I call my mum and tell her my mad thoughts. She says she will come over and i sit there shaking and crying till she gets here. She tells me she's had a similar thing, it's probably stress related and i eventually start to calm down.
She stays the night but i lay there listening to music trying to distract myself. Reading doesn't work. I can't wait for daylight.

Friday 20th October

I go to my sister's and tell her everything: every ridiculous irrational thought that i have been having in the hours that i have laid awake after the panic attack. I have thought of a million different reasons for this to be happening now, and i need to tell someone so that i don't feel like i'm losing my mind. I am alternatively incredibly anxious and then feel really spaced out. I've already been to the doctors and he's given me fluoxetine. It won't start working for a couple of weeks. My body is screaming, "But what about now?" but of course those words don't come out of my mouth. I don't want to take drugs for depression, i'm certainly not going to prompt him to give me tranquilizers.
My sister manages to make me feel normal. I go home exhausted.

Later on my ex rings me for a lift to the train station. I pick him up and feel like the painfully slow pace of the traffic is going to make me start screaming and crying. We get to the station drop off point and there is Alan Bennett! He's standing there looking like a photograph of himself, with his taupe raincoat and his scarf tucked in to the top, following the V of the buttons of the coat. I can't believe it!
I drop J off and drive away, thinking, "I should have stopped. He was just standing waiting to be picked up. I should have just said hello, and said, 'Hey, Alan, how funny is this? Three years ago, i started collecting stories for a book that i called Untold Stories. Then you republished your collection last year with the same name! I was gutted. You nicked my title! But it's okay because i'm using it for my blog title now and i'm going to call my book something else. Even funnier: i took my book to a published writer for some advice a couple of years ago and he said it reminded him of your Talking Heads!'"
He would have hated me wouldn't he? Lunatic thoughts.

Thursday 19th October

Went to bed with some low level anxieties, but put legs into bhada khonasana (this usually works for things like indigestion etc.). Promptly fell asleep.

3.30am: i'm suddenly wide awake for no apparent reason. A hideous creeping feeling comes over me. It's that kind of feeling that i associate with childhood night terrors. It starts in my toes and creeps upwards in a wave of all consuming anxiety. The scariest part is that i don't know what it is i'm scared of.
It makes it's way to my backside and my stomach and i feel like i'm going to have diahorrea and vomit at the same time. This feeling is almost immediately eclipsed when the wave reaches my chest and my heart goes into overdive. I realise i'm holding my breath in panic and my head starts go into that pre-faint stage just before you get the black and white dots before your eyes.
I'm convinced that if i get up to go to the bathroom, i'm going to pass out, hit my head and die on the bathroom floor. I'm immobilised by this thought and this renews the wave of fear with another flood of adrenaline.
I somehow manage a rational thought. I've had this experience before after the virus incident last year. It will go away if i think myself out of it. Think about nice things, stop thinking negative thoughts, try and breath normally, it will go away.
As the fear slowly lessens, i start crying massive sobs of relief mixed with the anxiety of wondering 'What the fuck was that?' I look at the time and wonder who it would be acceptable to wake up at this time in the morning. I ring my sister and get the answer-phone. I ring my mum and thank god, she answers.

Dilemma

It's like a test of your commitment at this stage, isn't it?
We're three months in; we did it almost every night in the beginning and in every room in the house: now we need to decide if the honeymoon period is over.
Is this going anywhere? Am i putting more into this than i'm getting out?
Am i the one doing all the talking? Does it matter if i'm enjoying myself?
What is the meaning of life?

Perhaps, i've given away too much too soon, on the other hand, there are things i haven't been so open about. If i'd been more open, maybe i would have got a better response.

Maybe i should start afresh, or should i stick with it and see what happens?

Phew. I really don't know.

Home

If anyone is following the different threads in my blog, you may (or may not) be interested to know that i am finally moving house.
I am moving within sight of the house that i grew up in. This is the house of my dreams: not in a future sense, like i want to live there again, but in an ongoing present where that house is often the theatre to my dreams. It is preserved exactly in every 1970's detail in my mind. I can take a tour at any time, awake or asleep, and remember every mark on the wallpaper, or the way fabrics felt, even sometimes the smell of the garden, rain or shine. I have also dreamt about the greenhouse, the garage and the passage behind it, the loft, the stairway and the cupboard underneath the stairs. Psycho-analyse that.
I noticed a couple of years ago, that i have decorated my present home in the colours of the dream house.
Why is it that some people always want to go back home and others will do anything to stay away? I wonder if, after i have moved there, i will finally grow up. My grandmother says she feels like a twenty year old trapped in an eighty year-old body; i doubt it

Napoleonic Goth

There was a Goth hanging around outside my window at w*** today.
He was standing half way down the path for at least forty-five minutes not moving a muscle.
That's an exaggeration, every so often he did move. His hand travelled up to move his hair away from his face; at one point he lifted his foot subtly and circled it round (pins and needles). Apart from that, he stood stock still in the same position, his left hand tucked neatly across his chest to the inside of his leather trenchcoat. Every time i looked out of the window he was still there.
I heard that Goth is back. As far as i'm concerned it never went away. They're a good seasonal barometer: you know it's summer when they get down to the purple layer.
We speculated that maybe there was another Goth somewhere else, standing in exactly the same position, waiting.
He was there one minute, and the next time i looked he had disappeared (in a puff of smoke?)

Is this a gift that you possess?

The weekend already seems like a lifetime ago.
On Friday night i went to see some crap plays that were like radio plays, but with two 'actors' reading from scripts in front of us. This was being filmed (god knows why as there was nothing to look at). It was so fucking provincial it made me embarrassed.
Then went to see some 'experimental' short films. There was a really cool one where someone had filmed a xylophone. The film and soundtrack were both speeded up and it created this crazy but catchy soundtrack that also managed to be quite funny at the same time. It got spontaneous applause at the end- as opposed to the kind of applause people feel obliged to provide in some contexts: there's no need to clap for a film, so this seems to me the ultimate accolade.
Then we went to see a performance of Long Term Happiness. This guy read out from a list of things that make him happy. It was kind of like stand-up comedy except it really just brought a smile to your face:partly because it was humorous, but partly because it made you think of similar things that you felt yourself. Hmm very interesting.
He was doing it for twenty-four hours with a ten minute break every hour. I almost resented him, i was jealous of his ability to think so positively about absolutely everything, but this is the point that he was making, that happiness can be self-generating and that godammit you can pass it on to other people!
His next performance is a dating agency. He's so happy that he's going to set other people up so they can be happy too...and in love!
I am emailing him my details as soon as i have finished this post. Watch this space.

'S' is for spine

Almost a year ago (on the eve of my birthday) i was taken into hospital with a mystery virus. This was the kind of virus where you can't keep water down and keep losing consciousness. I kept blacking out and hitting my head on things. It wasn't nice.
Whilst i was in A&E, they x-rayed my chest to see if there was a problem with my lungs. I asked to look at the photo of the inside of my body, and discovered that i have an S shaped spine. I was extremely disappointed that none of my yoga teachers, lovers, or anyone i had ever been on holiday with, had ever noticed this about me.
A year later, i have decided maybe i have been a little unfair to those closest to me. Perhaps it hasn't been there that long, in which case, i should get it checked out.
I have never had back pain, but since the doctor told me i might need physiotherapy, i have suddenly become ridiculously aware of my back and of the exact location of each vertebrae and muscle. I feel ok standing up - almost automatically applying the principles of tadasana- but sitting down has become a minefield of self-criticism. I don't know how to hold myself: i feel uncomfortable in every position that i find myself in. I have exhausted myself by not allowing myself to sit naturally, and by making mental lists of things that i may or may not be able to do if this gets worse.
I have been veering from nausea - through imagining the worst, to the kind of compulsion one feels when put in danger; to run out immediately and do everything i ever wanted to do, as soon as is humanly possible.
I'm having another x-ray tomorrow. Lots of people have this thing and it's not a problem. I will be fine.
I have been trying to imagine someone massaging my back, patiently, consistently, over along period of time, until every one of those pieces goes back into line.

Enchanted Evening

On Saturday night, we visited a festival of fire.
There is something primal and bewitching about looking at fire, and it was a fitting end to the time of year when one can do things outside in England without being uncomfortably cold. There were no barriers or public safety enforcers telling you to stand back. It was possible for one to judge one's own safety in relation to the fires.
The fire sculptures were impressive in themselves. The guardians of those which required human intervention looked like Edwardian show-people; they wore hats and waist-coats and a look that was suitably removed from the surroundings.
When it started to rain, the hundreds of pots of fire made the most amazing sizzling and spitting symphony. Carabosse played intruments that were hanging from a tree in the centre of the gardens. The guitars and the keyboard were suspended in mid air. At one point, one of the guitarists was making sounds by dropping his bottleneck onto the strings of the suspended electric guitar. There was a skiffle-like vocal and the same kind of other-worldliness to the music as to the installation itself.

Namaste

I wasn't going to blog about yoga, because i take it very seriously.
But tonight was an exception.
The whole purpose of yoga is that you think about your body and not the outside world. This allows you that little inner window that could be expanded and be called Peace. No matter what is going on around you, you should (with practice) be able to filter out any extraneous sound/activity and concerntrate on the minutiae of the asanas.
There used to be a group of people who sat outside the building drinking and shouting at each other. That was when i practised this technique.
Recently though, there has been a choir singing African songs/the hits of Paul Simon in the room down the hall. There was also a meeting of the Kippax Flat Earth Society in the adjoining room. (This joke is purely for the benefit of my sister and no-one else - i don't know who they were really.)

We were all trying our best with Akarna Dhanurasana.

Homeless Homeless
Moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake

"Now bring your foot closer to your ear"

Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih
Somebody sing Hello Hello Hello

"..and closer if you can"

Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih Somebody cry Why Why Why

They actually came out into the hallway at one point. Their voices wrapping round us.

I didn't fare so well in Sirsasana. I was just getting to three minutes when i actually stopped thinking about the pose. I started thinking about something else entirely, and fell on my ass.

F.E.A.R

This morning, Comedy Dave played Ian Brown's F.E.A.R on 'Tedious Link'. I have to admit i had tears rolling down my face. I absolutely love that song. It's one of those songs, which i wouldn't put on my i-pod (if i had one, which regrettably i don't). I wouldn't put it on my i-pod because i like to choose my moments for my favourite albums. Obviously i have played it many times since 2001, but i would hate to ruin it by hearing it too much. Also, it would be very inconvenient to be crying in that way, unexpectedly in inappropriate places.
I saw Mr. Brown perform that song on TV - i think it was that Eden Project gig last year. I really hope i get to see that for myself at some point. I cried then as well. My friend and i texted each other some of the lyrics like a couple of teenagers. There is nothing to say about Ian Brown that isn't a cliche, that hasn't been said before, so i'll stop now.

It seemed clear to the Pythagoreans that the distances between the planets would have the same ratios as produced harmonious sounds in a plucked string. To them, the solar system consisted of ten spheres revolving in circles about a central fire, each sphere giving off a sound the way a projectile makes a sound as it swished through the air: the closer spheres gave lower tones while the farther moved faster and gave higher pitched sounds. All combined into beautiful harmony, the music of the spheres.

Indian Prince

Yesterday i went for a walk in one of my favourite parks, and i saw a guy who keeps cropping up.
I first met him at the disaster-piece festival last summer. We were the only two people eating this terrible food from one of the few stalls that were there, at about 2am in the morning. He talked about what it was like being the only Indian guy where he had been to school in New Zealand.
Then he stopped me at Across the Tracks and said, "Hi, I knew i'd see you here! My girlfriend said, 'Well how are you going to remember what she looks like?' and i told her, 'I'll remember'."
So, yesterday he appears in the park with his girlfriend and three other girls. He kissed me on the cheek (platonically of course). But it all seemed too weird. I tried to make conversation with the girlfriends, but it was too much effort, so i said "Nice to see you" and went on my way.

I was actually going to the heather garden because my grandad's ashes were sprinkled there -I was going to ask him for some help with my love life. Over the last couple of years, it seems like i have had a sign above my head (that everyone but i can see) saying Men in Relationships, Please Apply Here.
I'm hoping that this is a phase of my life that will soon be replaced by some other, more satisfying phase that is not about what i cannot have.

36 m.p.h

I can't believe this.
I just received a NOTICE OF INTENDED PROSECUTION
.............for speeding!!!!**
This is great. I can't describe the relish with which i filled in the back part, thereby providing my personal details for intended prosecution. I was only momentarily distracted by the fact that i can't afford to be fined for anything, never mind something as ridiculous as this.
The funniest bit is that i was only doing 36 in a 30 zone: there is leeway that allows you to go 5 over the speed limit, so in fact , technically, i was only 1 m.p.h.over!
"Your honour, there were extenuating circumstances. I had just been subjected to the lunacy of the woman i am about to buy a house from for over an hour! In addition to this, i was made late for an extremely important hair appointment. My hairdresser himself commented that I had never been late: in the whole 15 years that he has been cutting my hair, i have never once been late for an appointment."
This is so not rock and roll. Next time i'm on that stretch, i'm going to make sure i really put my foot on the pedal.
More haste.....

Who's that lady?

I have finally found an image for my profile!

Girls: some of you may recognise this woman.
Guys: you may have to ask your girlfriend or girl friend.

She's the woman who hides those things which should not be seen to come out.
Inevitably though, all things which are held inside for a time, must come out. Even those things which are most often thought of as unpleasant, even nasty; that are not that socially acceptable or desired to be seen in public, should have a place to go.
She's the woman who gives those things a place to hide.

Crinoline skirts- perfect for concealing all manner of secrets!

God, i love my own jokes.

Chile Day

My friend invited me to her house for Chile Day. We ate fantastic food with her family and friends, and we danced till 2 am. The older couples danced La cuenta to traditional Chilean music with white handkerchiefs for dramatic emphasis. Their children put on Brasilian and reggae variations of the same. The next generation down fought in a heap over the contents of the pinyata.
I had to dance barefoot in the end because my boots were restricting my feet.
There was a boy from the Dominican Republic who had me completely entranced. He was beautiful and he managed to lead the whole room when he was dancing. He danced with all the older women in a way that was sexy enough to be flattering but respectful at the same time. I looked at his hand on a woman's back. It made kind of an 'S' shape as he held her. He was guiding her in a really subtle but amazing way. He was setting a limit for her body without restricting the ebb and flow of the dance.
The father of one of the gorgeous Latino girls told me about growing up in a shanty town in Chile. His parents had no money and sent him out to look for food. He did not find food as often as he found books, and he taught himself to read English and French.
In order to stop Pinochet's special police force from literally washing out their homes with water cannons, the people of la favela erected a Chilean Flag in it's centre. This made the site untouchable and they named the shanty La Victoria. A. is writing the stories of his childhood, and has said he will show me the photos he took recently when he returned to visit the place in which he grew up.
This week is an different anniversary for the Chilean people. A. said that Allende was a socialist and told me that when he saw the twin towers go down he thought he was watching a re-run of a bad disaster movie. He was not happy to see those people die, he said, but that date should also remind the US of what they did to Chile.

Mary

Things are looking up.
Today Radio One had their Scissor Sisters day.
Now i have mixed feelings about the Scissor Sisters. When i first heard them i thought, 'Why would you need these guys when you could just listen to Elton John?'
However, driving home from work tonight listening to Scott Mills, i thought it would be really good if they performed 'Mary'. It's the only song of theirs that i really like. It could actually be considered to be a fitting tribute to Elton circa 1973 rather than just completely replicating his sound. It has that combination of swirly electronic break and heartfelt piano that Elton did so well.
When they played it, i felt like a small wish had come true.
We could all do with more of that now couldn't we?