Desire

Last night I was a dinner party hosted by one of the consultants at his lovely home.  Most of my colleagues at the same level were there; I felt awful the whole time.

Stories were shared by the others, people laughed and enjoyed each other’s company. I felt awkward and out-of-place. I didn’t have anything interesting to say, and even if I did I couldn’t get it in sideways because someone has a cooler story to tell.

I sat pretty much silent through dinner. Wine helped with me feeling less awful about the way the evening panning out, but it didn’t change the situation at all.

In the car on the way back they were talking about how the girls in the department were being hit on my some of the bosses. I have not had any experience of this. Either I’m oblivious to innuendo or more likely, im too unattractive and boring to be hit on.

The one advice Matt had for me was: Act confident. Don’t talk like he has other options and don’t fish for compliments.

I don’t like me.

I wouldn’t respect me.

So I have to change.

Change is painful and difficult and relentless.

Change is beautiful, it is progress.

It begins in the mind- as for execution, the devil is in the details.

It is the small changes that dictate the bigger picture. It’s the decision to get out of bed earlier, to hold up my head, speak louder, to take the time to think before I speak.

It’s not eating that chocolate, going for that run.

It’s holding myself to a better standard. To stop procrastinating.

To love myself enough to sacrifice small pleasures for lasting improvements.

It’s all in the mind.

I’ve been watching motivational videos and all of them advise that there is no break, it is continuous work and effort. What fuels it is the desire.

What I want is simple, to be:

-       Thin

-       Smart

-       Beautiful

-       Confident

No such thing as perfect

"Who's the cute baby?"

"She mine...with my ex. She's 9 months"

"She's got your dimples and your ginger hair. Do you get to see her much?

"Not a much as I'd like to- her mother's not too keen"

"What a shame..."

Men and babies. Tall, bubble butt and dimply youngish man and his cute dimply cuddly baby. Recently divorced.

Oh trouble.........
I was surprised at how cool my reaction was. I wanted to scream- Whaaaatttt?!!!!!  I am not ready for a dalliance with a divorced man, what more one who has a child and in a difficult legal battle to have more time with her.

We had fun. Watched a random tv show and then messed about for hours. He's sweet, considerate and has the kookiest smile. 

The hickey was a complete accident- it does look like you were attacked by a vampire. I'm sorry! 

He's not texted or called. It's been 4 hours since I left.  Maybe it was a one -off thing and we'll never see each other again. 

Back to studying. Back to work. 

Wolverine sings?

You've got 6 more minutes

"You need the 14 right?"

"Yep- ah, there's one in 14 minutes"

"Hmm...what can we do in 14 minutes?" he said with a naughty gleam in his eye.

He's been stealing kisses at every intersection. He looks a little disappointed when I pull away to cross the street. We hold hands, fingers intertwined.

He's that perfect height where I can tuck comfortably under his chin though in my heeled shoes I still need to tip toe to kiss him. He leans down, a lot.

We're waiting at this bus stop. It's midnight and it's full. We stand a little away from the crowd- I look up at him, "so, what do you want to do in 14 minutes?"

He leans down and just touches his lips against mine. He places little kisses all over my lips- I can taste the single malt scotch he'd been sipping. I kiss him back, just that little greedier. It's very tasty scotch.

He pulls on my jacket, pulling me close. Our bodies are touching and he starts moving- leading me into a little dance right there at that bus stop. My hands on his shoulders, his around my waist- I rest my head on his chest. Another long kiss.

It feels like a long time. I pull away- "I bet I've just missed the bus- I wonder how many minutes to the next one." I lean back to try and see the board and someone at the bus stop shouts out, "you've got 6 more minutes".

Photographs

I've deleted all but one pictures of him from my phone. There is such a finality to it.

Seeing him; us, and wondering why, why? Did i condemn it from the start by trying to be all cool; all fuck-buddy-friendly?

Granted, the are back-ups on my computer, but it will at least reduce the impulsitivity of trying to look at the photos.

 If someone could tell me how to back-up save texts then I'll delete his number and texts as well (eventually).

Playlist

When I start getting better and not all my posts are about how my wretched broken heart is suffering etc I will compile a breakup playlist.

Im going to structure it around the 5 stages of grieving. Some of the music already on here is pretty good if i could say so myself.

Today my phone picked-out this gem: Nothing Better by the Postal Service.


I pretty much have thought (or occasionally said) every line Ben Gibbard sings, except for the last stanza.

Will someone please call a surgeon
Who can crack my ribs
And repair this broken heart
That you're deserting for better company?
 
And Matt even drew a graph on our first date. Later he told me I fell in love with him based on his theory of successful relationships that can be plotted on a 3-dimensional graph. Yes, my love for him is a position on a 3-dimensionaal graph:
x axis is attraction
y axis is comfort and
z axis is investment.

Which doesn't really work because I initially wasn't that attracted to him and wasn't comfortable with him as my true, silly, girlie self. I did however, invest.

Investment, in this model, could be replaced with time, as a linear thing to follow and plot the line of the relationship. Keep in mind however investment also factors in effort, money and feelings.

A good relationship has all 3 in abundance. He was attracted and I made him feel comfortable, but he was not invested.

My mistake.



I wished I knew this song existed that night he told me about Ida.
Say Something by A Great Big World and Christina Aguilera.

They sing everything I wanted to say, needed to say.  Every.single.word is how I felt that sunday when I realised you could never and would never  love me.

And I will swallow my pride
You're the one that I love
And I'm saying goodbye

I've not heard from you in days. If you don't want to see me or know how I am by this time tomorrow, then this is it. I'll mail your DVD and the holiday photos to you. I'll send you a postcard from Paris. You'll get something silly for your birthday.

Over and out.

Anggun

I always loved Anggun- she epitomises Malay beauty; the bronzed skin, dark hair and an innate elegance. I love that she speaks french and dances like a dream.

Today I was running a blood gas I suddenly reminded of this song. Something from my youth.

I don't regret this, all these feelings I'm going through -it gives all the sad love songs context.

Maybe I will cut my hair and get red gel nail polish on my feet. Can't quite get a cat, though I should say hello to Jun.

I spent the day crying at intervals

This heartbreak thing is EPIC.

The pain is visceral, my thoughts obsessional and irrational. Everything reminds me of him and by extension, how bad i feel.

I tell him this. He receives a constant narrative about my emotional state. Ours was never a conventional relationship; the end shouldn't be either.

This heartbreak thing is like the flu.

You fall ill, you're feverish, delirious, incapable of looking after yourself.

You rely on family and friends to look after you.

You can either take medication to make the symptoms better so you can get by or sweat the fever out. There is no cure for the flu (or for love). Your body will have to heal itself, the immune system fights the virus and then it learns; so it can protect itself from similar viruses in the future.

The heart needs to do the same. Heal and learn. No cure, just time and supportive measures.

Blur's No Distance Left to Run

It's over 
You don't need to tell me 
I hope you're with someone who makes you feel safe in your sleeping tonight 
I won't kill myself, trying to stay in your life 
I got no distance left to run 

When you see me 
Please turn your back and walk away
I don't want to see you cos i know the dreams that you keep
Is where we meet 
When your coming down, think of me here 
I got no distance left to run 

It's over, 
I knew it would end this way 
I hope you're with someone who makes you feel 
That this life is the life 
One who settles down, stays around 
Spends more time with you 
I got no distance left to run 

Coming home 
It's over 
no more

Tonight I write the hardest words

Today I spent the day missing you.

I missed the warmth of you in bed, lying next to you. The scent, the taste of your kisses. That simple joy of snuggling up to your body and putting my head against your shoulder.

I even miss you telling me off for lounging too long in bed and glaring at me as I fuss with my hair. I want to run potion 9 through your hair and mine- for your sake I hope you don't use gel in your hair again, that's why I left my little tube of potion 9 there.

I find myself looking at our photos- I couldn't bring myself to hate you, even when you find it so easy to dismiss me to the ranks of women you've let go. Granted, I gave you fodder for that; but that's who I am and I was tired of sparing you the worse of me. I gave you a glimpse of my demons and a lot of my love- and yet it feels all wasted.

You had slept with her in January.
You said because the both of you were drunk and horny.

Well at least you were honest. 

(on a side note GU ramekins make for fine ashtrays- desperate times, eh?)

It breaks my bloody heart that you didn't spare a thought for me.
I want to ask you if I ever crossed your mind as you were kissing her, fucking her.

In my anger I want to curse you, hit you and hurt you in some way. I want you to feel some of this.
No, I want you to feel all of this.
Feel inadequate, weak and shamed.

Please don't spare me. When I ask you about her it's so I can learn to hate you. So I can forget the sad simpering woman I became when I thought you could love me.

I cannot believe that I had even hoped we could have a life together- a home filled with books, films and my dodgy taste in art. I occasionally wondered what our kids would look like- my smile and your eyes; little halfies who would be confused because their mother believed in God and Heaven while their father did not.

I feel like such an idiot- trying to give you a wonderful Christmas, sacrificing sleep and pissing off well meaning friends to make you happy. Just because making you happy gave me such joy.
That's what love means to me; that feeling of joy and bliss when you were with me, when you were happy.

Love is sacrifice and compromise- you weren't willing to do that for me.
I wished I had the strength to not believe you when you said you loved me.
You weren't lying, you just don't understand what it meant to love someone.

You must've slept with her while I was busy at work, thinking of you, planning our holiday. While I fought the urge to text you and tell you how much I missed you; you would've been texting, calling her.

Why, why, why?
Just tell me she's beautiful, well-read and perfect. Let me think I've lost to a better woman.

Because now I'm wondering what I've done wrong, where have I slipped up?
Is it because I believe in God, my culturally diverse background and that I occasional mis-pronounce things? Does it scare you my mother wears the hijab, I feel alienated from my father and my brother will break the fingers of any man who hurts me?
Or is it because I wear too much make-up, eat too much and get excited about everything?
Do you fear my emotions; my giddy highs and my dark depression?
I notice your unease when I jokingly say I'm jealous; but you know I'm not joking and that I have good reason to be- I knew you were going to fuck her even before you did. Maybe I drove you to do it.

And yet I tried. I kept loving and hoping because that's the only thing I know how to do.

Now I have to learn to hate.

Hate must be my wall, my reminder that you do not love me, you do not know how.
You cannot love me not through any inadequacy of mine, but because you do not want to suffer for my sake.

You said it yourself, I cannot be the judge of your tendency for dramatic gestures for you are capable of them at work and in long term relationships. You've told me how Emma pushed you into months of insomnia and anxiety and how you were anxiously waiting for Holly to start dating again. These women have done nothing for you and yet, I stir no feelings except for camaraderie?
Fuck that.

So hate I must.



Will you stay with me my love?
For another day...
Cause I don't want to be alone,
When I'm in this state.
Will you stay with me my love?
Till we're old and grey.
I don't wanna be alone.
When these bones decay...

This was what happened the weekend after our trip.

Against all good advice I went to see him yesterday. Initially it was lunch that became a shopping trip and became night in with ribs and Hot Fuzz.

Lying my head against his back in bed-I asked, I stupidly asked; if he had slept with anyone else. When he said yes, my heart caught in my throat.

One I knew about; they had been long distance friends for years and when he went back home they met- he told me about her and I was cool with it, she had seen him first, technically she had first dibs.

The other woman I had my suspicions about. Months ago he told me that he had gone on a second date with her and he had brought her to my favourite restaurant, one I had been telling him we should go to together. I was pissed off that he didn't went there with someone else;  maybe a part of me knew he would go on to sleep with her and that's why I was so angry.

When he's said, 'I slept with Ida', my heart broke. And then my good sense started shouting at me.
I felt betrayed. Made into the fool. Felt used, felt sooo stupid for putting my heart on the line, trusting this man; thinking he might think this is special too.

Logic stood fast. This was never a relationship, I never had any claim on the man. He owes you nothing- not loyalty, not love, not monogamy.

He tells me he was very drunk and it was the one time. I had to ask, 'was it in this bed?' It wasn't. He tells me it didn't work out between them because they had nothing in common.

We've got nothing in common either.

If I had any pride and self respect I would have gotten dressed and left. Walked away, run somewhere, anywhere until I felt less shame and pain.

When he first mentioned her months ago I told him, 'you need to tell me early if you meet someone. It's going to be hard to quit you. Don't tell me about the dates, but if you sleep with someone please tell me.'

I knew that if I had left last night he would not come after me. That's why I didn't go. I'm trying to hold on to some semblance of pride and self respect but love has me on my knees.

I'm his for as long as he wants me.

The worst part of this whole revelation was that I made him cry. It's the second time. The first time I saw his tears was after I made him tell me about Holly. He had told me how amazing she was- his face animated, so enamored. The next morning, I asked him, 'am I not good enough for you?' and for some reason I saw tears in his eyes.

Last night, when I couldn't stand it anymore and had to turn away, bury my head in the pillows-I heard him sobbing.




Throw me in the landfill 
Don't think about the consequences 
Throw me in the dirt pit 
Don't think about the choices that you make 
Throw me in the water 
Don't think about the splash
I will create 
Leave me at the altar 
Knowing all the things you just escaped 

Push me out to sea 
On a little boat that you made out of the evergreen 
That you helped your father cut away 
Leave me on the tracks 
To wait until the morning train arrives 
Don't you dare look back 
Walk away, catch up with the sunrise 

This is torturous 
Electricity between both of us 
And this is dangerous 
'cause I want you so much 
But I hate your guts 
I hate you 

So leave me in the cold 
Wait until the snow covers me up 
So I cannot move 
So I'm just embedded in the frost 
Then leave me in the rain 
Wait until my clothes cling to my frame 
Wipe away your tear stains 
Thought you said you didn't feel pain

Can't remember to forget you

Whoever wrote this song, genius.
Whoever came up with the tune; thank you for making what is a very sad, desperate situation into a super catchy, great pop song.

 I left a note on my bedpost
Said not to repeat yesterday's mistakes 
What I tend to do when it comes to you 
I see only the good, selective memory 

The way he makes me feel, 
gotta hold on me 
I've never met someone so different 
Oh here we go 
He's a part of me now, he's a part of me 
So where you go I follow, follow, follow 

I can't remember to forget you 
I keep forgetting I should let you go 
But when you look at me, the only memory, is us kissing in the moonlight 

I can't remember to forget you

And I don't think i'll be cutting off my hair anytime soon, even if it is the default heartbreak thing to do. Shakira- that hair!

I remember the first time you said 'love'.

'Why is he (Capt Kirk) climbing the mountain?- Because he's in love'

I asked you why kissing you feels so good- you tell me it's because we love each other. You tell me you knew I loved you well before I'd admit it to myself. And I came out and 'fessed up- yes, i love you, just a little bit. You said you love me too. You'd go on to say it more than once. Not just post-coital blissed out I love yous, but while we're walking hand in hand, riding on the back of a pick-up and when you've just woken up.

I apologised for falling in love. You tell me it's ok, it makes you feel less guilty about falling in love with me; because its not part of the plan.

In love or not, truth or not, you still rend my ventricles apart. Leaving you tonight was the hardest thing. It hurt so much when you told me you'll only meet me for coffee next week, when I offered to stay. You are being strong and principled while I would rather avoid the pain and plod along the way we were. You want to be my friend, but I want all of you; selfishly.

I say selfish because I cannot marry you- I can't be your missus and raise children with you. I don't know if I could live in a quiet country town. I don't know if I could deal with the associated religious guilt if I married you.

You know this and you are letting me go gently. Agreeing to be my friend and supporting me. Oh how it hurts,  as you hold me and I realise that there is no way for this to work. No real way our little love could be more than this.

When I asked if you wanted me to stay next week and you said no; my heart swelled and my throat expanded, the was an ache in my chest and tears. I stared at you looking for an answer. There was none so I kissed you. Again and again.

I was holding back tears on the way to the station. I didn't want to think this was the last time I'll walk holding your hand. My heart twisted in my chest, I kissed you as I leave. I forgot to put all my love in it because I was sad.

I'd love to kiss you again, just so I can put all my love in it.

False promises

I hereby promise to resist to the best of my ability Internet stalking, googling and thinking about his other women. The exes, the lost love, the dates, even the work colleagues he's so fond of.

I need to stop because it's a waste of time and it's acting like a crazy lady.
Who knew that I was that kind, eh?

I really need to give up. Concede. Back out with some semblance of pride intact.

In a moment of weakness, I think that if I tried hard enough I could beat her.
She is now the bogeyman, the enemy, the challenge to overcome.

I think of how I can show him how amazing, how dependable, how wonderful I am.

Liez, oh Liez, you cannot make people love you.

The people that love you, the ones that really do, don't love you because of what you do for them. They just do.

He doesn't. Doesn't mean he's a bad man. He just doesn't feel that way. And you have no control over it.

New resolution: add on.

I will henceforth document all fun stuff I do.
Even if it is mundane.

Backtrack for january.

Went to see American Hustle. Holding hands. When will the novelty end (im such a kid).
Went to see Carmen at Royal Opera House dressed in red. Less hand holding this time.
Went to see 12 Years a Slave with regular movie date and temporary lodger.

Wallowed in some minor heartbreak.
Went shopping in Norwich.

The universe continues to torture me

I was planning to go to Kew gardens tomorrow to save my wasted, disastrous week off.

I cannot bring myself to do go because one of their attractions is a kilometer long "Holly Walk" that was previously known as Lover's Lane.

The full moon is still out and I might possibly decide to raze the 130 year old holly bushes to the ground. It's not genus Ilex's fault, my anger towards them is only by association.

Even the object of my wrath is not really at fault. But jealousy is ugly, mindless and vicious.  

Why don't you love me

The rant:
"...I wonder, is this all one sided? Sigh. Too much bloody missing you..."

The response:
"...I'd happily hang out with you every week or two...."

I'm sorry, I've changed my mind. I know initially I was happy with this arrangement. A lover and a friend. But I'm human and my feelings got in the way. Im starting to fall for you and I know you are waiting for another woman.

You are ready to drop it all and run to her side. You lie quietly and wait for her to start dating again.

I'm a distraction. I sent you a text about how im falling for you and it hurts, it hurts because it feels like you dont want me; and you tell me im fun and energetic and you would happily hangout with me every couple of weeks?!

I've been pretty depressed since the text- the hints were there and I've known of the 'perfect woman' since Christmas but the text is the straw that broke the camel's back. I'm great fun and really good company- I bloody well know that; fuck being your entertainment, i want to you to bloody miss me back you dolt.

It hurts. Like bad heartburn and headache. The tears well up and the back of my nose is sore like I've had too much wasabi. It stings and smarts and oh my God what I'd give to kiss you because it will stop the hurt. Stop the hurt until you leave or mention some gorgeous, smart-alec woman you've gone on a 2nd date with (like the time you took that other bitch to my favorite restaurant).

I deserve it for being fat and ugly. I deserve it because I don't have witty comebacks, a smart-ass mouth or an IQ above 150. I drink too much and get depressed. I get awful waves of Schadenfreude (when 'perfect woman's' cat got sick, there was a sickening feeling of glee). I call people I've not met a bitch when their only sin is going out with you (it's not their fault at all. How would they know?) I deserve it because I don't care for politics and I don't understand feminist rhetoric.

Why don't you love me seems like a redundant question now. I know exactly why.
___________________________________________________________________

On to some good news:

I pass Part 2! On to the practical exams in the summer!

Thanks God for small mercies and saving graces.

It'll be sweater weather in Amman baby.

'Cause it's too cold
For you here and now
So let me hold
Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

I'll get over you when it gets warmer. 

Resolutions

The 5th of January is my day of Resolutions.

Career

1. Get MRCP by 2015.
2. 3 audits by July 2014
3. By August 2014 have a realistic list of alternative career plans to hospital medicine to pursue

Financial

1. Save 20% of basic monthly salary.
2. Not to dip into savings. Ever.
3. Buy a car in October 2014.

Family and relationships

1. Go home for Raya
2. Contact close friends at least monthly via telephone or email.
In the wise words of Baz Luhrman- the older you get, the more you need people who knew you when you were young.
3. Try and stay friends with Matt. If he'll have you and doesn't make you cry too much.
4. Once exams are done, get back into the dating scene

Personal development

1. Lose 2 kilos a month.
2. Read a non fiction book a month.
3. Climb a mountain.

"and dear God, I hope I'm not stuck with this one" Kate Nash, Foundations.

I read somewhere that 'you should blog like no one is reading'. Im sure no one is reading so I'll be honest & open here.

I know he's not in love with me.

And yet, here I am, thinking about him all the time- waiting, wishing, hoping that he'll realise that I'm better than a charming, big breasted, ginger genius with an IQ of 170. I wish he'd realise that for all the teasing I adore his silly hair and awkward ways.
Im a little bit smitten and pretty invested.
My poor little heart hurts (and I dont think my chest pain is purely gastritis).

I wish he would drop everything to see me like he would for her. 

I can get smarter, I can learn to be engaging....though I look terrible with red hair.  

And I know however hard he tried, he couldn't love me the way I need to be loved.


I need to be worshiped and adored.
Be crazy about me.
Be proud of me.
Think about me when you look at other women.
Spoil me rotten and then tell me off when I dont exercise.

Just fucking love me. It's not that hard.


Instead Im here, settling for this friends with benefits deal.
It's not fair to you to demand exclusivity when I know this isnt forever. 
You're older, you want to get married and you want babies- just not with me.  You tell me you are dating, searching for your future wife. 

You tell me this in bed, holding me. And I self flagellate by pretending im cool with all of it- tell me about her; is she pretty? Is she skinny? Why not her then? 
"You need to tell me early if you meet 'the one'. It's gonna be hard, quitting you" 
"Sometimes I wonder, am I not good enough for you?"
And I kiss you to stop me from saying any more stupid things and hold you tighter, trying to keep you here with me. 

We only talk about 'us' when Im drunk or half-asleep. That's the only time my control slips- I apologize every time it happens.

I keep blaming myself for being weak and letting feelings take over. I need to stay objective and enjoy this for what it is. Instead a part of me is tempted to run amok with my feelings and destroy this, whatever it is.

He still makes me happy. 



Daughter, Smother

I'm wasted, losing time
I'm a foolish, fragile spine
I want all that is not mine
I want him but we're not right

Christmas 2013

It was about small miracles, all types of love and patience.
Above all it's about blessings and good food.

Meet the Cthul-duck pheas-ridge.
Explanations will follow.

Thank you Matt for making this Christmas special. I think I might just love you a little bit.

No context

The exam is in 3 days.

Last night I went to London to accompany him to a gig- Dave Dobbin and Don McGlashan (2 famous New Zealand singer songwriters) at the Union Chapel. It's actually a functioning church with beautiful wooden ceilings- I've never been to a pop/rock gig in a church before. The music was catchy and enjoyable, music I'd drive to and buy for my dad.

He had forgotten he invited me but the person he invited forgot about the gig, so i was the last minute fill in. The back-up plan.

In the last half hour I have wanted to text or call. Just to say, "Hello. Please dont think of me as desperate. Please dont think I'm easy and crazy. I like you and im not sure if you like me, hence the level of insecurity. And I'm sorry I kept quiet when you told me those things; Im not sure if you noticed but I was a little aback and didnt know what to say. 'Thanks' would be too hollow, 'I know' would be overconfident. We play at being couple-y, but we're not. You kiss me in public, you hold my hand. We plan holidays. You've told me, more than once, I can leave when I want and you won't come after me. And I've told you, weeks ago, that quitting you is going to be hard. I think that every time I catch your scent. That mix of perfume, Ariel and you.


Dave Dobbin- Slice of Heaven



Don McGlashan- Queen of the Night

Things are going downhill again.

I'm struggling at work again. Just when it seems I get a handle on one thing, another thing rears its head.

Nobody died, nobody got hurt, yet.
It seems however I try to do my best, I fail. There is always that one blood result I miss, something I hadn't sorted out, an ECG not done or a blood sugar not checked.

And I am slow, unable to multitask.
Everyone frets and rushes around to get things done while I'm deliberate and slow, my brain 2 steps behind everyone's.
I need time think and ruminate, I need time for the cogs to creak and turn.
Why is my brain is so slow, why don't ideas, issues and facts snap into mind?
I dont understand how my brain thinks, how my neurons make those connections and why some things i recall so well and some things never stick. Why I cannot do mental math.

I keep telling myself I will get better.
It's now 4 years of working. Im still uncertain, I still feel stupid, I still feel uncapable of managing.
Everytime I change jobs I feel lost, uncertain and lacking necessary knowledge.

Some say it's imposter syndrome.  Im starting to doubt it's merely me feeling inadequate.

Then there is the rest of my life that is crumbling around my ears.

I'll be 29 in 3 months.
I've regained the 10 kilos i lost last year.
Im sleeping with (and developing an unhealthy attachment to) a man who cares for me (but not 'like that').
I am not happy and I feel like im running out of time to make something of my life.


Important decisions have to be made and yet, I dont want to make them because it means i will close on door and have to commit to something im not sure is the right path anyway.


Now the most important decision is whether or not to call in sick tomorrow or power through the day with 5 hours sleep.

I've decided that post exam I'll work on audits and get my assessments out of the way. I will work of brain boosting stuff; improving memory and quick thinking.
In the new year I will find a therapist and get help- my friends have stopped wanting to talk to me and I've become boring.

If there is a song that will break your heart, this is it.

Sam Smith- Not in that Way.

Exams are in two weeks, but im more excited that he's back.

Im distracted and cannot quite focus as well on revision.

But, he's back!



Yeah, he's not big or awful strong nor is he my boyfriend, but doesn't mean im not glad he's back.
There's no reputation to save either....

I have an exam to pass and little time to prepare

I love this song, reminds me of being a kid and dancing in the kitchen/living room on weekend mornings. 

Other people's kids

You know you're in your late 20s (in Malaysia anyway) when facebook entries are full of pictures of people's kids.
Ive been told im old enough that my little cousin could be my kid. She's 4 now.
Loads of people I know have kids or are 'fetus in situ'.

The broody bells have been droning in the background somewhat over the last couple of years, but recently they've been tolling like the bloody Notre Dame.

Im blaming the exogenous hormones; bombarding my body with strong synthetic hormones to protect against getting knocked up initially made me so loco that many thought it had the opposite effect. Peeing on a stick loses it's novelty really quickly.
I try and be disciplined. One little yellow tablet a day (i keep it tucked in my purse and then I can take whenever I remember). An alarm on my phone reminds me (if I wake up early enough).

Recent UK statistics show that 1 in 5 women are childless at 45. That's a startling figure, considering that most women will have a circle of more than 5 friends. Think of the sex and the city girls- of the four only 2 had babies; and one with difficulty. I will potentially know women who will be childless; whether or not out of their choice is another question.

As for myself, I'd love to have kids.
10 years ago the answer would have be a resolute 'hell no'; 5 years ago it would've been a 'maybe....' and now it's a simple 'yeah, what the hell'. Is this the instinctive need to reproduce overcoming any logical good sense I might have? Is this a need to do what is expected of me- get a job, get married and give my parents a couple of grandkids?

Oh but look at the cons:
1. It destroys your body
2. Children can ruin relationships
3. Children are expensive and are terrible as investment for the future; there are no guarantees they will reach adulthood and even then, they might turn out right.
4. You're stuck with them till they're 18, at least.
5. The world is overpopulated as it is, am I contributing to the problem?

There are many more, but essentially kids can cause irreversible damage to every aspect of your life. And the universe (if they end up supervillians).

And the pros:
1. It's the ultimate project. A little biology, a little art, a bucket full of luck and a lot of responsibility. It's the ultimate test in persistence, patience and defatiguability. Sure nature will have a large part in it, but it's something you nurture, tend to and watch grow.
2. Kids can be fun.
3.....did I mention they're fun sometimes....?
4. It's a social experiment.

Ok, maybe the pros are a little weak, but inbuilt caveman drive to procreate is hard to suppress.

Scientific evidence supports women having children in their early 20s- the body copes better with the stresses of pregnancy and childbirth, fertility and the quality of eggs is better and it protects against breast cancer.

But having kids later in life means I have time to go to university, lay foundations for a career, travel the world and party to wee hours with abandon. There's a little story a friend likes to tell: a village found that the young men were marrying later than their father's generation- the reason: The young men had bicycles and were travelling to neighbouring villages to scout for girls to marry instead of settling for the girls in their village. I could potentially scout for men anywhere in the world (except Israel)- when am I going to marry?

I have already surpassed the age at which my parents had me; and probably surpass the age at which they had my younger brother. But I have travelled, I have suffered and I have lived a different life from my parents. Is this better? There's no way to tell. I hope they had a great time raising me and my brother; and im sure they suffered too, albeit differently.

Sigh.

I think I'll make cute babies. Fat, dimply, giggly babies with curly hair and big eyes. *Amin* *fingerscrossed*

Not now, not in the next year, but maybe in a couple of years. Once I've grown up a little.

There is that little problem of fathering my babies... I'll save that for another post.
Now, if everyone will just stop bombarding me with pregnancy news or pictures of adorable kids I can stop cooing and get back to revising.

28 days yo.
wish me luck.

Existential Bummer

It's nice when I find people who articulate how I feel.

You've got a warm heart,
You've got a beautiful brain.
But it's disintegrating,
From all the medicine.




Let's just say if I get drug tested I would have some explaining to do. They tell me I can make it on my own; no need to mess around with my brain chemistry- I worry that it wont be enough.

But this song doesn't just refer to the meds.

It also reflects how I feel about work. A lot of the times I wonder why I put myself through all of this shit for something I'm not passionate about. I trudged through school, through these early years of work thinking I'll find that elusive career that will spur me into action, lead me to success, happiness and fulfillment. 

I think Im lost. There is no second chance, im too far gone to pull away. The song sings of being able to start anew- I'm not that brave. What if it's not just medicine....what if it's me?

The one that's flawed. The one that's unable to succeed.
The one who will make all the wrong decisions and procrastinate too long.

Im hiding here and no one will come and save me.
No one's calling my bluff when i say, "I'm ok, i know what I'm doing".

I will have to pull myself out of the mud, change my fate, change how I deal with life.
It's not too late, right?

Back from Nepal

A dear friend has recently returned from a volunteering trip to Northern India (not Nepal, she insists on correcting me).

She's amazing. Smart, opinionated and brave. She can also eat anything and stay skinny as a rail. One of her many superpowers.

She's also very human and in some ways, very much like me. A little younger, probably better at running away from tigers and speaks more languages than me.

She reminds me constantly not to be too comfortable, to purposely unsettle myself; to go out to festivals, get drunk and see the world. And she actually makes me feel like I can do it, all I have to do is go out there and live.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I also met for the 2nd time the hedgefund manager. He's sweet and lovely, and for somebody in such a cut-throat, competitive field he is surprisingly down to earth and low key. Not a city boy at all... He balks at my stories of staying in hostels and taking the coach and I raise an eyebrow at the recent sale of his central London flat.

There are no sparks at all. No even the fizz and splutter of a cake-topping sparkler.

I kinda wished there was some attraction on my part- I'm not sure if he found me easy on the eyes or not but I wouldn't venture a guess. He's the kind who would spoil and pamper- he likes luxuries himself.

There's an invitation to go and visit him over Christmas... Im not sure whether he's being friendly to potentially lonely me or wanting more.

At the tube station he wished me luck for my exams; I wished him luck with redecorating his new flat- he told me to,"keep all the luck for your exams".

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I woke up this morning feeling amazing: the Thai massage yesterday had me kneaded and stretched like good pretzel dough.
Slept like a baby. And im all loose limbed and limber.

Made deli-chicken filled bagels, couc-cous salad and packing a quiche and yoghurts for a indoors sunday picnic in hospital.

Poor Rachel is stressed and to try and make things better I will feed her.
I employ my grandmother's tactics to cheer people up.

My heart pretends

not to know how it ends

yes, hello self-esteem

we shall finally be free

It pains me to see

Let the weight anchor me

let me hang in suspense
let me cry on your fence

Before you go

follow the signs

First time I heard of Kierkegaard:

Zee Avi's  Just You and Me

"You were sitting at the coffee table where you were reading Kierkegaard
Minutes later, you proceeded to say something that almost broke my heart"





 Last week I watched the Salvatore Ferragamo series, "Walking Stories".
There was the neon sign in Shanghai....

Neon sign:  Sara Campbell follow your heart

Sara Campbell:  Oh no....

Neon sign: You will find love again

Sara Campbell: I dont know how I'll ever go to a library, eat pastrami and rye at canter's.....We did everything together

Neon sign: His name was Auden, need I say more?

Sara Campbell: True

Neon sign: Sara, trust FATE 

Sara Campbell: I dont even know what that means

Neon sign: The phrase is commonly attributed to Søren Kierkegaard 

Sara Campbell: Who's that?

Neon sign: Danish philosopher

Sara Campbell: I mean, I know but I.....I dont.

Neon sign: Just move, movement constitutes a leap. Trust, love.....

This morning on instagram I was exploring (as you do) and there's this picture with this quote in the caption:
 “What if everything in the world were a misunderstanding, what if laughter were really tears?” ― Søren Kierkegaard


Fate telling me to get some education. 
Im waiting my book to arrive and I'll tell you what I learned.

Evan's sleeping in his bed

Evan gives me funny looks sometimes. I think he hears us through the walls; we can hear him and his girl occasionally and I can hear his alarm clock ring most mornings.

Not to be a cliche but will I ever stop thinking about you? It's frustrating that you're lingering at the back of my mind- I want to tell you about my mundane day and have you be my human TENS machine.

Im not worried about breaking my heart; you've already done that. And you'll keep doing it. And I'll be there bleeding out only to have you do something that will make it all better. Make me shine, glow and my hair glossy.

Im worried about breaking yours.

I like you. I think you're sweet and I think I'm good for you. I enjoy our time together although sometimes it feels like I have to work hard at being charming and entertaining. I don't know how you feel about me and it bothers me.

However much I hope it could work, I cannot help but think, ''you can't be it''.
And it wouldn't work.

"It's never too early, it's never too late and it's never too often."

A friend posted this video ages ago- I recently had to hunt it down for a friend; one that had only heard of Pablo Neruda from How I Met Your Mother.

It's OK, that's what I'm here for.



In the comments section of the video on youtube:

"Is it too soon to tell you I'm in love with you?"
"It's never too early, it's never too late and it's never too often."

*heart*

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example,'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voide. Her bright body. Her inifinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my sould is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

Pablo Neruda

mauvaise foi

Satre describes bad faith, a concept where deceives one self to justify acting a certain way. Societal concepts one adopts denies one certain choices.

Hmmm. It needs more work. I'll think about it more as I ponder how to minimise the damage wrought when this is all done.
I will be OK.
He will be OK.

As I rolled over to sleep, I heard a whisper-

"Capt Kirk is climbing the mountain
  Why is he climbing the mountain?
  Because he's in love"

Then later he showed me this. Oh.

It's depressing but hopeful

It's back

All the fear, inadequacies, worry.


I know I am blessed, loved and lucky- yet still feel so incomplete, empty and hollow. It's a gnawing in my gut.

There's this phrase; punching above one's weight. I feel like I'm punching above my weight everyday these last 2 years. Im nearly a registrar; but dont feel it. I feel like a fraud everyday, scooting by on little knowledge and lots of nice.

Im still waiting for the results of the exam in early september, but need to start studying tonight for the next one. My heart sinks. Why cant I recall facts the way I did as a kid?! Retain information I read only once? My photographic memory and ability to understand things in a flash is not as it used to be.

And regarding the man- my feelings and my head have reached an impasse. So I will continue as I am- making this up as I go along.  It's comfortable and cozy and we're having fun so im not going to spoil a good thing. He's so laidback he's letting me do what I like.

And my avoidance and procrastinating behavior is back. I fall in a lull and then I've wasted a couple of hours on movies and phone calls.

Waiting for results

The exams were HARD.

Having the boy over was bittersweet. He sleeps better when I'm around (considering he has an insomnia problem I shouldnt take it as an insult) and we did our usual eat, screw and sleep.  And sleep he did. I went for a shower and when I came out I was unable to wake him for a night out.We watched a whole movie together.

I was at his again this weekend and we went shopping for his mother's and sister's birthday presents. We also got our eyebrows threaded and we went our bar hopping in the evening. He sat down to roast dinner with more of my friends.

Then I spent Sunday evening sharing my insecurities with him; I held him close and admitted: quitting him is gonna be hard.

And quit him I must.

The reason I spent Sunday evening there: a first date didnt quite pan out.
Midweek he's seeing someone for a second date.
He's going away in October and he has two stops: at the first he is staying with an ex-girlfriend (from what I gathered is 'the one that got away') and there's a girl he's traveling especially to meet; they've been talking online for years.

What am I? The girl who helps him sleep. The one that keeps him from doing stupid things for sex. The one that take him out on adventures and do random things with. The girl who is teaching him how to drink.

What is he to me? I like him, I want him to like me. He's the first guy I slept with and at the moment the only one. He's my place to stay in London, drinking and restaurant buddy. He makes me feel beautiful and when we're together I feel special.

I used to be certain that he's not lying, but now im not so sure. Am I just an easy screw? I wont deny I make it easy- I go there, im always game and i dont cause a fuss when he mentions his other women. I even give him advice.

It thought I could get through this without caring, but Im getting attached. I buy him shoelaces for God's sake. 
And when he lent me his jumper, all I did on the train home was sniff it till I felt like I was drowning in the smell of his detergent.

Oh where the devil makes us spin

I heard this ages ago on a TV show- cannot remember what it was and why but the song stuck. It was on loop on my phone.

It popped up again and I dont think it's made an appearance on here.

Funny how some some songs burrow deep and elicit visceral reactions- a tingle goes up my spine, spread across my shoulders and I get goosebumps down my arms. If I close my eyes I start feeling heady and heavy.

It's not an entirely unwelcomed feeling.

But not now. Plenty time for that later.
Revision first.




Embarrassingly: I think I first heard thing song on Sucker-punch (my little secret pleasure, dont tell).

The original video to this song is very provocative, it's retired porn actress going through one of her old films. Thoughtful...and smutty.

"We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell." - Oscar Wilde

Get drunk

4 days to exam.

So many things to worry about.
My head space is becoming muddy again. My self esteem is sliding.
Have not been doing those online CBT exercises.

Im too excited about seeing him. He's coming over for the weekend after the exam. 

Im starting to miss cigarettes and alcohol.
Cannot remember the last time I got drunk.

Did I mention this nasty cough lingering for 3 weeks? I think I have good old pertussis.
Need antibiotics but not taking them as Im concerned they'll mess up my revision time.
I'll get it sorted after the exam. Life is on hold for this exam.

Cigarettes and robitussin, will i ever get to heaven?
It's not looking good now
It's not looking good now

This time next week

The Exam will be done.
I hope to have passed, it'll be a month before I know.

I have 6 days.

I can make it.

“Never make someone a priority when all you are to them is an option.”

“Never make someone a priority when all you are to them is an option.”

True dat.

Cannot seem to find a consistent source for this quote. I like it and it imparts an important lesson. Thus it is here.

Perfect man

I have met the perfect man today.

Beautiful. Intelligent. Funny.
We connected over volatile gasses and mathematics.

He explained difficult concepts.
I felt intellectually challenged, cared for and empowered.

He was kind and supportive.
The most perfect bubble butt I have ever seen on a man. I just wanted to sink my teeth into it.


He's also my consultant, married with a dog and maybe kids.

"Isn't ironic," sings Alanis, "It's meeting the man of my dreams, and then meeting his beautiful wife."

And the man I'm 'seeing' is comforting another woman tonight.
As a woman I know she wants him back and from eavesdropping I know I am to her the 'Ugly Girl' of the Fiona Apple song of the same name.
He know how to pick them though. She's as depressed, clingy and needy as I am, maybe even worse.
He doesn't know that about me, yet.
She's beautiful. Does it matter that she's Brazilian?

The exams in in 9 days.
Im distracted not only by the opposite sex, but anaesthetics.
I could love it. I could just love this. If I get smart and witty, this might be something amazing.

Confused

'Let's go on holiday...How does Morocco sound?' 

  'I'd love to. Yeah, it'll be great...Let's go in September?' 

'I was thinking in the new year....maybe February?'

- Silence -
- Slow turn of head, mastication stopped. Stare -

'What, you don't plan that far?...Or you're going somewhere?' 

- Confusion, hope, bewilderment, frustration and wonder -

  'I ain't going nowhere' 

- shrugs -

  'It's my birthday in February, you know. 26th.'


*yeah, i know, you can't make this shit up. That's when we talk. A lot of the time we don't. I have tortured internal monologues where I say my piece is a sensible structured way, clearly knowing and stating what i want and how i'd like things to go. Then I just look at him, looking out the window wishing i could still read minds. He catches me looking and I smile*

Panic cord

I have a career defining exam in 14 days.
I'm not passing the mock exam papers.

Im getting too excited to see the boy tonight. I miss him a little.
Im looking for distractions from the exams.

I need to pass this exam. I do not need the distraction
I have to pass. God help me, I have to.


I heard this song playing in the background this morning.
It's a little disconcerting to go, 'oh no, im not that person they're singing about, am i?'
There is much to say about delusions of reference.

I just realised that Colin Meloy (of Decemberist fame) and Carson Ellis (illustrator of most Decemberist albums) are married to each other!

So cute.

Entering manic phase after all the depressive weeks. Distractable and panicky.

Exam in 2 weeks.

Panic.
panic panic.

Im giving myself 48 hours of fun with the boy this weekend. I told him im jumping his bones and going. I've let all the emotions stew for a bit and I think this whole arrangement can work. As long as i keep my feelings in check and know that he will never feel about me that way.

Im trying to think of an analogy but I cant.

I can tell you that quinidine is a typre Ia anti-arrhythmic that blocks conduction and increases the effective refractory period.

pray for me. send good vibes my way.
wish me luck

Im sorry

I find it difficult to control my emotions and im sorry you're getting the short stick.
Im sorry I get irksome- I find it hard not to be possessive. Good God it's so hard not to think of you as mine, all mine. Or at least wanting to think so.

You dont adore me. You do not worship the ground I walk upon.

You dont lie to me, you treat me decently and with respect. You would not hurt me purposefully.

I now understand these women who stay with men they cannot have at the peril of heartbreak. It's so hard not to fall. The slope is greased, the fall so gentle, bottomless. I am becoming one of them.

I would not resent this fall so much if it wasn't for the fact he does not and will not think of me that way. I am for him a project- I have given up that agenda weeks ago, but for him I am an unfinished project on his list; once I am done and ready I am to be released into the world to meet wonderful men that are out there.

He is a friend. He is someone I trust. He drives me crazy both a good way and a bad way. I hate seeing him hurt and I want to see him happy.

He is a friend and I care about him.

Lonely

There's solitude, being comfortable and content being alone. Enjoying one's own company.

There's loneliness, this feeling I now get daily; an empty hollow feeling that I try and fill by looking up twitter, facebook and blogs. This discomfiture with being alone with my thoughts.

My thoughts that in the last couple of months is repetitive- thoughts of inadequacy, fear of the future, fear of failure.

I have finally spoken to a healthcare professional regarding my melancholy- i suspect it is now full blown depression and anxiety. Down to a point where it's affecting who I am.

I'm darkly humourous; im not depressive.

Im cheerful with a realist, cruel streak; not this practical robot.

I have lost my joie de vivre- I used to relish my aimless wandering, all my life experience; now im a frightened rabbit with the confidence of a mole rat (not the Kim Possible one- he's a confident, amazing naked mole rat).

I've stopped singing and dancing. I don't want to pick fights. 

I have homework. There's online CBT, workbooks to do. There's the Chimp Paradox to read.
I need to self refer to see a psychologist, which will take a couple of weeks.

It's tough to admit that I need the professional help. But life is becoming more challenging and I have never been more unsupported in my life. I dont blame anyone for this- it's the unfortunate sequelae of being sad; i hide away and lose touch.

And then there is doctoring, the man who doesn't want me that way and my desire to live a full and exciting life.

I will fight for my life. I only have one and it's worth fighting for. I will work hard to do well, get happy and get what I want. I've been lucky and blessed, I still am, just gotta fight for it a little.

The original is better because Thom Yorke is a hot ginger

My phone seem to pick out the most inappropriate songs to play at his.

I was packing and Radiohead's Creep started playing.
He walks in and tell me its one of his favourite- there was a point in his life where the song meant a lot to him. He plays his preferred version by some lady with a high pitched happy voice singing in perfect harmonies.

I tell him,"The original is better because Thom Yorke is a hot ginger; and also the lady sounds too happy. The singer has to be tortured". We went through depressing songs of the nineties: I pretty much name the whole back catalog of Radiohead; namely Fake Plastic Trees and Karma Police. Vertical Horizon came to mind but for the life of me I couldn't recall the name then. He chose Everybody Hurts.



The last time it did this my phone decided to play Unforgettable by Nat King Cole as we were having a goodbye make out session. That was awkward and intense.

At some point Blur's No Distance Left to Run will feature on here (shout out to Shazzers, who at 16 picked out the best song for every ending). When it happens it will hurt. There will be tears, there might be blood. I hope not too soon.

I am see-through, soap sliver you’re so thin

Now dissolve me, two tabs on your tongue
A herd of shepherds to herd the sheep, sleep now my only one
Broken sweethearts who sleep apart
Both still pine for the other’s side spine, spoon as sleep starts
And pulse to pulse, now shush
She makes the sound the sea makes to calm me down




I am see-through, soap sliver you’re so thin
As I begin rubbing lathers up your state worsens on my skin
And gold, fatless finger to lip, one two three four hush
And pulse to pulse, now shush
She makes the sound the sea makes to calm me down
She makes the sound the sea makes, I’m tired now
She makes the sound the sea makes, knee-deep in the north sea

Selamat Hari Raya

My eighth Raya away from home.

I miss the melee, the insanity, the love.
I miss the baju baru, the eating excessively, running after errant cousins and rolled up sleeves to dish out more rendang. And basuh pinggan because we've run out of clean plates/glasses/forks.
"makan dengan tangan jer!"

"It's when you have deodorant and a spare pair of tights there...."

"... you know you're kinda established" -Richard from work (Qualifications: married man and all round nice guy)

What does it mean if I have a pair of pyjamas, make up remover and a toothbrush there... and planning to move in a dressing gown?
Plus there's all those clothes I left when i repacked at his house- all shoved under his bed (reminds me to bring a large spare bag to London this weekend).

3 weeks is too long.
I wonder if he misses me.

I don't dare ask.

You're north of heaven, maybe somewhere west of hell.

I have had a difficult year

I know I spoke of fresh starts last August, but it seems that this year was worse than the last. Let's analyze the last year and make some comparisons.

Career 
Things have not progressed as much as I'd like it to. My F2 year (last year) was a struggle of too many hats, too little time; this training year one (of 3) has basically been a dud on the CV. I have achieved very little professionally except to chalk up 3 formal complaints and one serious incident investigation (yeah, and i cant even say nobody died). That's two years essentially wasted.

What went wrong: I got depressed and stressed. I lost focus of who I was and what I was doing. I worked hard but didn't work smart. I now realised that the slog is not going to cut it anymore. I have to learn how to balance a personal life and a work one, because one works to live; and not the other way around. I failed to plan. Not having a professional calendar and not spending time talking shop, learning about things i could do to boost my career prospects. I need to learn to love my job again,  to love learning and to find the joy of doing what I do, because it is special. Being a doctor is special and I need to remember that.

Fixing it: Passing in September, passing in January, Doing the Ultrasound course, Finishing the ED audit and doing a anesthetic one. More training days, doing the simulation course. Find a masters.
Very very important: find a MENTOR. Someone to guide me, to aspire to and to talk shop to.

Financially
I have been living paycheck to paycheck for the last year. I do not have the advised 6 months wages saved. I cannot afford any major disasters or a car.

What went wrong: I spent like there was no tomorrow. Didn't think and didn't budget. Was extravagant with silly things. I was lazy and didn't think about the value of things. Shopping became therapy for the depression and stress. I will be going onto basic pay (a 500 quid paycut) for the next 3 months.

Fixing it: Budget. A weekly budget, with an attempt at 20% wages into savings. Buy a new bike (that's at least 60 quid a month savings, plus free exercise). Plan train tickets in advance. Be frugal with day to day meals. Making sure I spend money where it matters: good food with friends, experiences and travel.

I will be your accident if you will be my ambulance

And I will be your screech and crash if you will be my crutch and cast
And I will be your one more time if you will be my one last chance

Oh sweet tree, fall with me
Fall fast, fall free, fall with me

-Ambulance; TV on the Radio

*this should be sung in A&E, perhaps during a trauma call....if only life was more like Scrubs

No. 3

Madeline's been stolen.
Bike No. 3.
Front door was wedged open and as I was rushing to work this morning she wasn't where I left her. She wasn't anywhere in the building, neither was 2 other bikes.

Her name was Madeline before I even met her.

There goes my ride to work.

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'You're number 5'
'Im number 5? Well's that's always been my lucky number, 5...and 13.'

Things I want at my wedding

A groom
-I need to find one. I just realised that this one probably isnt it.

Cute children
 -possibly my brother's, or cousins's or worse come to worst mine, but momma would be disappointed

Family and friends
-I have to keep the two separate; it'll only be a disaster if the family finds out what i really get up to 

Mariachi band. Or the Gypsy Kings.
 -my grandmother, bless her heart will not understand. The second cousins will sit there and woe with her while i dance to Bem, Bem Maria.

Open bar
-it'll be our secret dad!

Scented flowers

TTA cakes, candy and lavender pouchettes.

 *to be fair, all i really need is a groom, loved ones and a mariachi band. Im flexible like that.

So drown me if you can, or we can just have conversation

Dumb ways to die

Hailstorm

And there I was lying next to you wishing i didnt have to leave
Knowing that I have to go because i was stubborn and didn't want to appear weak, needy.

First there was lightning and the loud crack of thunder.
The sky opened and poured down rain.
And then the hail fell.

I had to look, watch the hail pelt the window. The cracks appearing on your window, feel the cold.
Within and without.
And in that moment I felt an overwhelming fear of everything.
You held me and it didnt make it much better.
I did feel less alone.

We had our most serious conversation yet.
Your lack of belief and my yearning to believe.
The cab came, the goodbye kiss.

The street was wet and there were bits of hail on the ground.

I thought about you half the time I was away.
And now Im here and you're away.

I write these down because there should be a record of my emotional breakdown

Received another complaint at work- another unhappy punter. Another bad decision on my part.

Hmphhhh. I cried throughout the day at work. I barely made it through. Made my first police witness report, through tears. Fun fun.

And then I come home to an early nap before commencing work.

I get a text from the boy. He's drinking and lamenting the lack of attractive people at current watering hole (he's on one of the channel islands). Yeay for drunkard text? (as i type this im thinking, 'Oh dear Liez, what the hell? You're pathetic enough to be happy with the odd tipsy text message and whatever little sign of affection you get? Really?!!!' Maybe my friends are right. Maybe I deserve better. Little cute gestures be damned- Im deserving of 'boombox outside of bedroom window' grandiose gesture.)

watch for the slide
it's a slippery slope and im gaining velocity

Sicily Succinctly

Mediterranean sunshine, good food and meeting great people.

Amazing seafood, arancini, peaches and cheap beer. Even cheaper coffee. 40 cent espressos.

Granitas.

Dinner with two professors and a sociologist; Walking across Italian highways to get to a beach party, staying up all night and eating pastries while watching the sunrise. Watching Tom have raw oysters at 7 am.

There is an heavily tattooed, lovely Italian man called Paolo who is our Italian Fairy Godfather (shout out to Matt from Cali, love you dude).

Watermelons :P

Became an Isabella Blow for the next up and coming Alexander McQueen of Knitwear. He's 6'4, a Northern teddybear with black false nails. Buying him lunch was my investment in the arts.

Was watched over by 3 men as we partied at the local hotspot in Palermo (it's a fish market by day and the area was never regenerated after being bombed in WW2). It was a brilliant night. Josh said he faced 'boyfriend envy'- I was very flattered to hear that.

Was scared at the Catacombs in Palermo- it felt as if the dead was watching me. The vibe there was weird.

Challenged by another northern man to try and fit my fist in my mouth. I cant, but there was a discussion about how big my mouth was and he drunkardly asked me if I loved my boy.

Had to rescue a little English rose from the Sicilian John Malcovich (serious doppleganger moment).

Got baked in Cefalu- Le Bronzissima!!! Sun stroked

Patischerria Cappello: Settevelli is the name of the best cake ever. I had it once before in Malaysia (made by a family friend) and though I would never taste anything like it again. Until Settevelli (the seven veils). It was worth getting lost, chafing my thighs and the blisters on my feet.  I made a pilgrimage for that cake.

For the first time ever- I was early for a flight back to London

Giddy silly liezy

I think I got a mention on his twitter.



STOP IT

Still, it'll be nice to go on holiday somewhere warm, or Scotland.

Possibility

Sometimes when we're together i think that possibly, possibly we could be more than this. Then you say something that brings the reality of the situation back to what it is.

'There isn't a possibility', I keep telling myself; but you can be so good at bringing false hope. 

someone finally said it.

I feel like that everywhere I work; and whenever I cant fix them.

listening to the radio makes me feel less lonely.

i cannot imagine living alone for another year.

This is for you, oh wise one.

 The one who tells me, 'you need to spend time with happy people, people in normal relationships.'


Oh, and finding love is a matter of luck 
Oh, and unsettled lovers move from fuck to fuck 
Oh, and compare their achievements like discussing bereavements 
And compare their abrasions with romantic quotations 
Oh, as peaceful the world watches down

Late at night

When im studying and a sudden pang of heartsickness hits i wish there is there is something or someone i can hold on to before it sweeps me away and burrows a massive hole where my heart used to be.

Mekah

My mother's currently in Mecca- visiting the muslim pilgrimage site which forms one of the pillars of Islam. She's there for Umrah; the Haj is a far more complicated affair.

A comparatively simple visit, a practise run for the rites and rituals that are meant to strengthen one's faith, to be physically and spiritually closer to God. The Holy Land.

She's not explained to me why she's decided to go; we're not a family to have heart-to-hearts. We share sanitised,  PG 12 versions of our problems with Disney-happy endings. I see the tired lines around her eyes and occasionally she drops the facade when it's to heavy to bear.

'there's problems, but it'll be ok'
'im so tired but i cant sleep'

I imagine she's gone to get some respite- a break from the insanity of the daily grind. An opportunity to meditate. A chance to pray in the holiest of places.

I joke and tell my friends she's gone to pray for our souls. I sincerely hope she does.

I really want to ask her when she comes back, 'did you find what you were looking for? And what more did you find?'

Balance

This new friend will either make or break me. It will take discipline and strength of character; both of which I have none. I'll need both to sustain this.

Time and distance is the enemy. I need to make the most of time and... Not much I can do about distance. There is much going on in my life; professionally there is a lot I need to achieve and there are new comrades at work I would like to foster strong bonds with. Old friends who need love and gossip.

And then there is this- something undefined yet very comforting. I was always comfortable with lack of structure but im wary of the lack of security. It is different from anything else I've known- but for now, it's good and it works.

We have spoken about how we are good for each other- I'm helping him get over a vaguely alluded to heartbreak/nervous breakdown and he with my discomfiture with relationships. It's partially working- he's says he's sleeping better and my hair is looking amazing; I'm still as insecure about the opposite sex as I was though.

 I'll need make the most of my time- I'll need maximise work, study and exercise and home chores during the working week and on wind down on off days with friend-time. It will take planning, lots of trainline bookings and an unhealthy amount of time sleeping on trains.

Written on the train back to Ipswich after a lovely friend-time weekend

Any excuse for a holiday: Happy National Kissing Day!

Define

It started a couple of months ago as social experiment. Only the select who will not judge me harshly (or could be relied on to identify my body at the morgue) were told. In hushed whispers and with promises to take it to the grave.

''Two can keep a secret if one of them is dead...''

It's worked out better than expected. Objectives were achieved and i made it out alive. And now I'm here not knowing what this is or what to do. Ok, maybe saying I made it out alive is a little premature. But let's say at this juncture I'm pretty sure I wont be killed in my sleep or left for dead on the side of a highway.

Talking about highways- I passed my UK driving test!

Im a pretty decent judge of character i guess (or lucky, like my granny used to say, 'someone's praying for you honey'. I think it was her). My friends are happy that i have another place to crash in town and i like that he likes cuddles on rainy days too.  I have a toothbrush and contact lens case and solution there and the coffee in the cupboard's for me (he drinks tea). We've survived 36 hours of each others company. I'm an ex-city girl living in a village and he lives in the big city but hails from a little town somewhere green, beautiful and far far away.

He's taken me to a coffee festival and I bought him socks and pair of cheeky pants for his birthday. I refuse to meet his housemates though we've borrowed the dog for a walk on the common. He will not call and takes forever to reply texts.

Hmmmppffffttt.

Im treading carefully and minding my tongue. There's no real need to define something as long as we're having fun, right? I won't do anything silly. I promise.

What's changed?

Everything and nothing.

24 hours and everything has changed. It is different although it all still appears much the same.

Man who makes pancakes

If you know me, you know i like love pancakes.

Love them in all their forms. Savoury crepes, sweet heavy fluffy pancakes, even lempeng pisang yo. And im a romantic. Remember that 90s film Practical Magic? Where the Sandra Bullock character conjures a spell for the perfect man? And one of the things she asked for was a man who can flip pancakes?

Pancake-making skills is on my perfect man list.

So i found me a man who makes pancakes. For me, for breakfast. Ok, it was noon; but who needs to wake up early when lying in is so much more fun? And apologises for lack of a breakfast tray. 

Too bad he cant make me breakfast everyday. 

MMR

SO many things have happened.

Where do I start.....

I am committing career suicide. Is it deliberate or is this some self-actualizing secret suppressed desire to escape medicine? (what else can I do that'll set me up this comfortably? I have no other skill set to speak of)

My procrastination has reached epic proportions. Hypnotherapy and neural-linguistic programming is the next step i think. I never learn....

I decided to make an effort for someone, someone im not too sure about. It's alien to let myself be so vulnerable. He isn't perfect and he's far from the one; he's giving me a chance, so im gonna give this guy a shot.

Im learning to see my own beauty. Sure i scrub myself raw, rub all manner of unguents and spend loads of the right clothes; but i may just becoming that beautiful butterfly i never thought i'd become. Just a few more kilos darling.

Someone I know attempted suicide. I'd wouldn't have guessed they had the guts or the strength of character for a serious attempt.

The real reason for writing this entry: the MMR jab on left arm hurts like a bitch; and i have pins and needles radiating down my arm and up my neck. If i die before i wake i love you mom and dad; im sorry you had to clean up this mess.

To my brother; run away, fly free. Do it all now. Listen to what people tell you, see their point of view and then do what you think is right. Fall, get up, learn. Scars are stories. And remember; they'll love you no matter what and you are a good person.

I know i'll wake up tomorrow still in this mess.
Maybe with a dead arm.

When i was young I would sing along, suffering as only a lonely isolated teenager can.

Not much has changed.

I am an awkward, lonely adult.

And im still in the ranks of the freaks who suspect they can never love anyone.

After my blood is drowning in alcohol

I bought a new toy today- it's a tablet that not an iPad. I feel a little stupid for not buying iPad but at least I'm saving a few quid and can still work In bed.

See, the laptop's been broken. The battery is. The rest of it still works well (ish)

It's absolutely frfreezing and the radiators in the front room don't want to work so I'm tucked up in bed with an aching knee and the new tablet. It works.

Happy days. Cold nights.
Slushy snowy bike rides to my cold empty flat.

Give me love.

Bills

There is nothing romantic about bills.

I thought there was going to be. But no- even i couldnt make bills romantic. I now have bills; electricity, water, sewage. Sewage! I forget all the shit flows somewhere and eventually someone has to deal with it- and i pay for the luxury. 

I managed to get to 27 before having to pay bills- i think i did pretty well considering i started paying taxes at 18.

Taxes are never sexy, or romantic. It is necessary and evil.

Fresh fresh starts

Start anew.

New town, new job, new place.
New people I have never met.

How exciting, how intense.

Only a little scared.

I start at a new hospital tomorrow-0745. Tomorrow i will be a morning person. Tomorrow the new shiny amazing me will be manifest.

Tomorrow afternoon I'll get the new flat. It will be a home, all my own (as much as a rented flat could be).Think of Feist's Mushaboom- that's the kinda homey im thinking of.

It's been awhile.

There has been a lot that happened over the last few weeks- nothing huge; no big disasters or major triumphs.

Im starting to think that maybe life is about the little things that slowly, imperceptibly change you and before you know it  you are in a new frame of mind. It's the sea waves that shape cliffs and wears stones smooth.

I've come to accept that I am a late bloomer in a fast paced world. Things come to me in their own time. While other speed along I amble at my own pace, but I do get there eventually. I do things my own way, there some method in the madness.

I've changed jobs again and with that come the inevitable questioning of my abilities, feeling lost and inadequate. Heck, I feel plain stupid most days. It's been 10 days. Everyone tell me I'll be ok. I believe them, but I won't change the way I feel. 

On a lighter note I make an excellent ratatoiulle- a bit too spicy to be authentic, missing aubergines and with my secret ingredient of butternut squash to give some ooomph (and much craved carbohydrates). And i found out adding saffron to beef chilli adds amazing colour and luxe to the dish. I've stopped eating dinner because I pass out in bed when I come home from work. The gym has not seen me for the last 2 weeks. Things will get back to some semblance of normality in few weeks, once I settle down and get past the initial stress and worry.

Im scared

I've made some bad decisions at work that had terrible outcomes.
Now I've lost confidence, i've lost any faith I have in my abilities.....and i can't compartmentalise or rationalise this.

I just see myself as a sum of all my failures.

Sometimes I wish I can disappear, but im scared even of that. A minor cycle accident recently reminds me I still fear death. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place- hidup takut, mati tak mahu.

Sometimes i google pity parties and wallow in miserableness.

It can be fun and enlightening.....I found this; can't wait to use it in real life:

"No-one is worthless though... Not so long as they can exist, and therefore think about themselves, since it is inevitable that they will ever remain the centre of existence to themselves, and the centre of the universe cannot be worthless."