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How Frequently Are You Ill? or, What The Fuck Is Wrong With People?

August 13th, 2008 (12:04 pm)

This is really starting to fucking piss me off. There are certain members of  my group of female friends who are always getting ill. I mean a minimum - a minimum - of 8 times a year. WTF is up with that? Who has immune systems so weak that they succumb to some infection or another that frequently? Granted, they all smoke (cigarettes) a lot, but it's not like any of them drinks too much, or has a demanding job. Hell, I punish my body much harder than they do, and I do it relentlessly, and I honestly cannot remember the last time I suffered from any kind of illness, even a cold. And I'm not one of those people who gets ill and just carries on: if I get ill, I really make a meal of it.

If I was taking to my bed as frequently as they do, I'm pretty sure I'd be freaking out about it and consulting a doctor about my frighteningly poor health. Is there something I'm missing here? It's not like they're claiming to be ill in order to get out of seeing me: they regularly miss days of work (one of them was temping for about 3 or 4 months last year, and when she left the job she told me that she had not worked a single five-day week: she'd called in sick at least once a week) and I frequently hear reports from one or other of them about another having cancelled a coffee date.

I think they need to start taking some vitamins or something.

Set the controls for the heart of the sun [userpic]

Oh my God, so much pain

July 7th, 2008 (02:15 pm)

I never get period pains - the last time I can remember having them was about 8 years ago; and although I can remember that I had them, I couldn't actually remember what it was like to have them, until today.
So much fucking pain, just horrible, horrible. I had to wait for it to subside before I could stand up long enough to walk to the shop on the corner to get some painkillers.
I feel so bad for women who go through this every month, I really do.

Set the controls for the heart of the sun [userpic]


July 4th, 2008 (11:08 pm)

I was at the pub this afternoon with a couple of friends of mine, both of whom are married: Michelle is married  to an unemployed alcoholic, and Emma is married to a guy with borderline personality disorder. Emma is separated from her husband, because he was beating the shit out of her.

So we were sitting there, talking about relationships, and Michelle got onto this riff that she periodically revisits, where she talks about how she doesn't take any shit from her husband, Steve, and if he ever lifted a hand to her she would dump him, blah blah blah. How "there's a line" and how she "just knows" that Steve would never hit her, etc etc. Steve has been up on assault charges twice in the past 3 years; the first time he got off, the second time he got sent down. There was a third incident, but the person he attacked didn't press charges. Steve thinks that violence is the answer to most things - and, what's more, Michelle agrees with him. They both think that if someone says something "insulting" or "disrespectful," it's okay for Steve to hit that person. And yet she claims that he's "not a violent person," and that's how she knows there'll never be any violence in their relationship.
So she carries on in that vein for a while - how honourable he is because he'd never hit a woman - and then she gets all candid and confesses that he is verbally abusive to her, but that "that's different;" she acknowledges the time that he pushed her over and she ended up with massive bruises all over her legs, but argues that it was "a one-off."

The thing that really fucking riles me is that she was sitting there, all smug and patronising, telling Emma that she'd never stick around if Steve hit her, that she'd leave him immediately, because she doesn't take any shit, etc etc. This is complete bollocks, for a number of reasons. He has used physical violence against her, and she justified it and explained it away, as do millions and millions of women, every day: she is no different from anyone else. Furthermore, she takes a LOT of shit from him, constantly - as far as I'm concerned, their entire relationship basically consists of her taking shit from him. She brags about how she's "not a doormat" (because, of course, if your partner hits you and you don't walk out immediately and never look back, it's because you're a doormat) but in fact, there is nothing that Steve could do that would make her leave him. He has never worked, in all the time they've been together - she supports him financially. He also does nothing around the house - she cooks, cleans, does the laundry and the DIY, and takes care of the bills. He has cheated on her; he has slagged her off, viciously, and very publically; he has got involved in hard drugs; he has dumped her; he spends most of his time looking at hard porn online. So, really, for her to say she's not a doormat - the implication being that Emma, because she did stay with her husband for a while after he started hitting her, is a doormat - is a bit fucking rich.

It also really, really fucking annoys me that she thinks you can draw a line between verbal abuse and physical abuse - that they're unrelated. I realise that it's probably very important for her to believe that they're totally different, but I wish she could see how fucking insulting she's being. I wish she would realise that he situation is not unique and special and exempt; and I wish she would acknowledge that if Steve became violent again, leaving would actually be a lot harder than she makes out.

Set the controls for the heart of the sun [userpic]

(no subject)

June 18th, 2008 (10:40 pm)

I didn't die, but my boyfriend moved to America and I stopped posting for a while because (a) I was dramatically unhappy for a while and (b) I was living with friends and didn't have my computer with me so I couldn't really access Livejournal as much as I'd have liked, and (c) when I moved into my own place (a shared house, actually, but the city where I live is really expensive so that's how it has to be, for now anyway) I didn't have my computer with me, only a fascinatingly old laptop that I got from a friend who got it from a friend who got it from her dad. The laptop really is oooollllld - so old that it just can't handle LJ, so that explains my long absence.

But I really do want to start writing again - lots has changed recently, a big weight has been lifted from my shoulders, and I feel lively again for the first time in ages. Plus, all my friends are total fucking freaks, and I really need to get my ire and outrage at their behaviour off my chest, but of course they all have these ridiculous ideas about loyalty: they seem to think that if you ever talk about someone behind their backs you should be excommunicated forever, which is just completely absurd in my opinion. But I need someone to go to the pub with, so I have to keep them sweet, so I will have to keep my ill will and criticism secret, and smuggle it into the open via a medium that none of them really cares for, namely LJ. 

Things I want to discuss include the way my friend M and her sister C looked at each other and patronised me while I was talking about my crush; the use of CSI box sets as decoration; obsessive hair-dying, apparently with an almost religious conviction in the perfectibility of hair colour; patchworking and finding fabric that makes me feel like I'm going to have a heart attack.

Until then, adieu.

Set the controls for the heart of the sun [userpic]

Bad smell.

January 11th, 2007 (04:44 pm)

I think I need to take the rubbish out, because the flat is starting to smell like solvent.

Set the controls for the heart of the sun [userpic]

One of the members of Take That looks like a skull.

December 16th, 2006 (09:36 pm)

One of the members of Take That looks like a skull.
I don't know what his name is (I think it's Jason Orange, but he doesn't look like a skull in any of the pictures I found on Google. Maybe he only looks like that when he sings) but he's on TV right now, singing Patience on The X-Factor. Gary Barlow is totally carrying them. And they're wearing the same clothes they wore the first time they were famous: pin-striped velvet suits; shirts with ruffles on the front and big cuffs.
Actually the mebers of All Saints  wear exactly the same clothes they used to wear the first time they were famous, too. They wear the same make-up as they did five years ago (or however long it was), as well - and the little dances that they do with their songs are the same too. It's weird, baffling and a bit creepy. It takes me aback every time I see them: the red eye-shadow, the straightened hair, the tracksuit bottoms worn with platform boots... so 2000.

Set the controls for the heart of the sun [userpic]

Is this a bad sign?

November 29th, 2006 (11:20 pm)

Okay, I hate my job. A lot. Every time I see a customer come through the door, the same words run through my head: "Oh God, just fuck off."

That's not good. A lot of people don't like their jobs, I realise that - but I think the levels of animosity, fury and frustration I experience every day by about 9am (I start at 8) are unusual.

I have decided, therefore, to take action. I know from experience that when I am slightly manic, I am un-irritatible and I don't get tired. However, I've been on lithium for almost a year now, and lithium works by suppressing mania. So I have decided to try and induce some mild mania by reducing my dose of lithium by 25% for a week or so, and see what happens.

Today was the first day of the experiment (I took 600mg last night, instead of the usual 800) and today was a better day than usual, even though we got absolutely slammed at work today and were stupidly short-staffed. I didn't lose my temper once, and I didn't feel particularly tired at the end of the day.

So basically I am relying on my mental illness to get me through the day at work. That can't be good, surely?

Set the controls for the heart of the sun [userpic]

No lithium = max lolz

October 31st, 2006 (04:45 pm)

I haven't taken my lithium for about 4 days now, I think, and today has been such a great day - I've been in such a good mood and I've been laughing shitloads, even though I've only had about 2 conversations. I felt a bit weird this morning - antsy - and I was worried because I didn't know if there was a reason for me to feel like that which I had forgotten. Then I realised that  it was just hypomania, and since then I've just been enjoying it.

I laughed for about half an hour over a post on customers_suck this morning, and then I went into college and read Charlie Brooker's column in a copy of G2 that I found in the common room, and laughed without stopping the whole time.

It's nice.

Set the controls for the heart of the sun [userpic]


October 29th, 2006 (01:33 am)

There's some stupid dating programme on TV at the moment - I don't know what channel it's on or what it's called because it annoyed me so much that I tuned it off.

The source of the irritaioon wa that the host asked one of the female participants what she was looking for in a man and she went "Someone tall, and handsome hopefully." Um, yeah, I wonder why you haven't ever been able to sustain a relationship? Could it be because you're a stupid, shallow bilt who puts the entire gender to shame, perhaps? What the fuck kind of baasis for a relationship is height? Seriously, I want to know. And demanding a "handsome" man when you yourself look like a pig in lipstick is a bit hopeful, don't you think?

Set the controls for the heart of the sun [userpic]

(no subject)

October 29th, 2006 (01:25 am)

Dear Co-worker,

STOP WHINING. Yes, I know you are run down. You have already told me 14 times today. I am also run down and so is everyone else who works here. The chef, for example, worked 13-hour shifts every day for 28 days in a row - yet he has never told me that he is feeling "run down."

But well done: your constant passive-aggressive pissing and moaning ensured that the head waitress sent you home early today, just so that we wouldn't have to listen to your complaining any more.

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