Rock bottom. Today I felt like I'm on my way down. Had a tiff with Chris when he arrived and hed stormed off after about five minutes. He came back, we hugged, and I was shaky for the rest of the day. Mich said "Make yourself some lunch, take it easy for a bit and then go to electrolysis." Instead I drank two cups of coffee and restored Chris's email.
Eunice said I looked pale when I arrived at the Beauty Place. She was right. On the tube I'd felt weary and queasy. Ive been spending not a helluva lot of time in bed this week. I'd pretty much forgotten I'd had surgery.
I'm becoming a technology casualty. Mich suggests that I need an acoustic analog life. She's right. It's doing my head in.
Everything I try to do is complicated by some thing or another. Digital perfection does not exist. Digital admin is becoming the bane of my existence.
I canlt think. I can't type. I can't sit. I can't talk to anyyone. I've got no idea what i'm going to do next and yet I know I've got it in me to be a star if I so choose to be. I've got enough originalattributes to make the exotica grade. I can shimmy in close-ups and be athletic in the wide shots... or can ? When was the last time that I sprinted? Since my tits? I can't remember . I can remember Fiona running full-tilt in grade 5, bouncing them so hard they almost rebounded off her face. How we snickered after she ran past. And how bad did I feel when I ignored her love note that I found tucked in my school locker. Poor thing. How was she to know that it wasn't a simple case of rejection. I wouldn't have known one end of self-awareness from the other at that time. Frantically cross-dressing in every spare minute, resenting the girls at school most of the time without realising it. It was too easy to slip into follow the boy mode back then. I remember taking Anne onto the dance floor alongside Brett and Courtney. SHe like the way i danced, it was the firt time I'd done it. It wasn't like I spent time looking at myself in the mirror apart from wearing Mum's clothers.
I've decided that I am a try-hard but not a particularily effective one. I can't pace myself. I'm good at doing some things and yet I beat myself over the head trying to get things working that would be best left to others.
Oh dear... I hope I feel better soon.
Posted by .M. at May 9, 2002 02:40 PMThanks for signing in, . Now you can comment. (sign out)
(If you haven't left a comment here before, you may need to be approved by the site owner before your comment will appear. Until then, it won't appear on the entry. Thanks for waiting.)