23/03/03 - continued
last night my eyesight went all screwy on me. it happens sometimes when i've been vomiting a lot. i suppose it has something to do with electrolites being out of balance or something. there were no bananas, and i was feeling too lethargic to peel an orange. i eventually managed to get up and throw a couple of pieces of weetbix in a bowl with some milk. in the past there have been times when if i'd eat even a banana or orange that it would just trigger another horrific binge. as for sports drinks.. sweetened sweat with food colouring, mmmmmm... now that's appealing.. (just give me a body to lick. please.)
i was dancing a bit a few nights ago, and came close to fucking up my knee. i will now have to be careful for a while. i've had to be careful with the one knee since the time when jamie and i used to run 8 km a few nights a week. i think the issue was that it was winter and it was very cold, and we were running on an icy sidewalk. i think we were both bracing against slippage in a similar way, because we both developed a problem in the same knee. maybe it doesn't matter anyway, since the only exercise i'm getting lately seems to be a preliminary for the next fucking BULIMIAD. (i vomited my way through the last olympics, and at the time in email this was the word i came up with.)
ah, more drunken incoherence somewhere out there, probably not too far from my window.. they sound pretty young..
sort of reminded me of something for a moment.. when my father went on his honeymoon with his second wife, they left my siblings and i to fend for ourselves. one of my brothers was graduating high school, and threw a big drunken party. i heard later that at one time there were people vomiting in both of the toilets and tubs simultaneously, plus in the laundry tubs downstairs. there was a 'bring home the best sign' contest, and my brother and a couple of others dismantled a street lamp and dragged it into the basement, and then were paranoid the police would find them. i was not very social at this time, and in fact i was not dealing with the outside world at all. i stayed in my room throughout the party. i didn't want to have contact with anyone. i had no lock on my door, so i pushed as much stuff in front of it as i could, and i also slept in a sleeping bag on the floor near the door, so that if anyone tried to get in i could quickly push my weight against the door. after i had fallen asleep, someone pushed my door open, and peeled the sleeping bag to look at me. he didn't want to harm me or anything, he just wanted to look at me. i think my brother had told everyone to stay away from my room. i think it was curiosity that made this guy force his way in, curiosity about this sister who was so strange, who was in hiding. but fuck, it was so mortifying, so excruciatingly embarrassing to be in that situation.
ok, i think it's still another 4 hours or so before i can go shopping. i'll probably just keep babbling.
03/01/05: i've been thinking about the night i wrote about in this original entry. i may have had some details wrong. i had to go outside a few times around then. once, to go shopping for something to wear to my father's wedding. then i had to go to the wedding. and the night of my brother's party, i seem to remember being very afraid of the party. and that maybe my other brother had taken me out to dinner or something so we'd be away from the house for a while.
one of the problems i had to deal with when company came to the house was often related to having to use the toilet. i'd always try to brace myself to last as long as possible without having to use it. my bedroom was right beside one of the bathrooms in this house, so that made it slightly easier, plus i was in an area of the house that was a bit hidden. i think i knew that i wouldn't be able to stay in my bedroom for the whole party, especially with people staying overnight. i'd try not to think or worry about having to use the toilet, but it would often seem to be impossible.
i don't remember having contact with people, though, when coming back to the house, and maybe i've got my nights mixed up. or maybe everyone had gone out for a bit. anyway, it wasn't difficult to get back to my room. the only other thing i remember is that if it was the night i think it may have been, i was wearing a black dress with red stilettos. and red lipstick. and the night was warm and humid.
is it really so bad to have to face uncomfortable situations? i think part of what embarrasses me so much about that night is that i think the person lost interest after he had seen me in my sleeping bag.
if people's lives are boring, sad, lonely, and they can use my site as distraction or company for a while, is that so bad? maybe i can't hold anyone's interest for long, but i can't see that as someone 'hurting' me. no one owes me anything because i'm depressed.
i wrote about how i don't celebrate christmas... but i didn't mention about how gk made me a gingerbread house this year. it touched me. i had never had one before. a lot of it got fed to this little beast:
i first noticed the possum one night when i was out on the balcony taking photos of myself. i heard a crashing about behind me in a tree, and then saw this possum nibbling on a seed bell that had been left out to attract parrots. (the parrots are pale-headed rosellas: shy, intelligent birds, very pretty birds who are difficult to photograph because they seem self-conscious when they are eating. or rather it feels like an invasion of privacy to try to photograph them.) i said something like 'hah, you evil little possum', but it probably sounded more like 'ah, aren't you cute.' the possum was not at all frightened by my presence, and it turned out that it wasn't camera-shy at all.
the gingerbread house was sitting on a table near an open window. that night i noticed the possum sitting on the balcony railing apparently sniffing in the general direction of the gingerbread house. anyway, to cut things short, it turned out that the possum was very fond of gingerbread, and kept coming back for more. on new year's eve, the possum showed up at around 11:30 pm, and i guess it cheered me up a lot. i heated up a little pasta that i had been saving for it. it seems to like my tomato sauce, and licks its fingers clean, like a cat. i remember the feeling of little possum claws on my hand as i fed it gingerbread. it was so gentle, not panicked, it trusted me. it let me pet it. its fur seemed so clean, and was very soft.
sometimes watching it eat, i cry.
one night i dreamed about a black possum that was drinking coca- cola that i think i had left out carelessly, and it filled with gas like a balloon, and floated through the air and i think had diarrhea. the dream (when i woke) made me feel self-conscious, like i was perhaps feeding the possum junk food, or food that was bad for its digestive system. and looking things up on the net, i think it probably is bad to keep feeding the possum. it's just sad, i guess, because it seems to get so much pleasure out of eating gingerbread and pasta (and i'm even able to save this food for the possum rather than eat it all at once myself), and i think it makes me feel better momentarily to have the contact i have with the possum. and i think that some possums are probably fairly hardy and adaptable, and are used to scavenging all sorts of things that are even worse for them.
the possum doesn't have a choice if i make a decision not to feed it.
do i have a choice?
[what exactly is an invasion of privacy, and how do you know when you are crossing the line? how can you be sure.
-Xesce the Stripper, "a-hideous to the eye"]