Monday, 26 June 2017

The Chronicles Blow Up

Hey all. Jeebus, it's been a really, really rough few days. It all began last Wednesday when I had a good time hanging out with the housemates, and then - as I am wont to do - I went and posted about it on Facebook. To be fair, I went into quite a bit of detail... a bit too much detail, according to my housemates, who found out about it because some rat saw the post and sent one of them a screenshot.

I'm usually more careful with the privacy settings but was rather slipshod that night, and I paid a significant price because the housemates weren't happy. In fact, one of them pretty much blew up at me, including storming off and slamming doors, and I subsequently packed up the necessities and hightailed it out of there. I haven't been back to the house since Wednesday night, and have been spending my time at the Plottkes, where thankfully I'm housesitting till the end of July.

For the rest of the recap, I'm just going to copy and paste what I posted on Facebook yesterday. It's a bit of a harrowing read, so be warned. Before you proceed, let me now state a conclusion, which is: I'm not sure what the conclusion is. The idea of moving out is being bandied about, but that might be too hasty a step, and having this brain-fog might mean it's not the best time for me to be making decisions. But yeah, it's... not been easy. Okay, that's enough of that. You read. Enjoy.

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Back on Facebook after a four-day break. Did anyone even notice I'd disappeared, that this whole profile had been deactivated? Not likely. I spent three days alone in my mates' housesitting house, literally without any human interaction. Three days and nobody checked in on me apart from Bernie Nye on Whatsapp. I could've slipped and fallen down the stairs and broken my neck and nobody would've even known. Show of hands, how many of you would have even cared? 

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I haven't been back home since the blow-up on Wednesday night with the housemates, thanks to the #NewHousemateChronicles, which I'm really not inclined to continue writing any further. Not sure what to do with regard to the guys though. I feel too mortified to face them, and, coupled with Other Nick's act of starting to look into new places to live - thereby demonstrating that he's serious about moving out - I'm wondering if my time at the house is up, as well. (For those who are curious: Other Nick is currently away for work and was not involved in the blow-up of last Wednesday night.)  

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I've been battling a deep depression since it happened and am better today, if only because I went out for dinner with some friends last night to celebrate a dear friend's birthday. But the past three days have been really rough, with me realising that I'm unhappy here, and I was unhappy in Singapore, and I'm unhappy back home in Malaysia, which leaves me with the conclusion that all this unhappiness is within me and has nothing to do with where I physically am. 

Where do I go with that?  

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The other day I sat on the floor in the shower in this house and let the hot water wash over me, and figured it was a good time, place and fetal position to have a cry. After all, with the shower pouring down on me, it was hard to tell the water from the tears.

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I've been thinking about suicide a lot lately, but don't worry, I wouldn't ever do anything. I couldn't bear to put my family through that, and my dogs, and the small handful of friends who would actually care. But it's been a while since I've been plagued with such dark thoughts. 

At one point I accidentally jabbed my wrist with a fork standing upright in a cutlery holder while reaching across the dining table, and wondered what it would be like to just press a little harder so that I'd cut my wrist. But then I thought it would be way too painful and way too slow, and such a waste of the beautiful tablecloth in this housesit house that isn't mine. 

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In lieu of Facebook I watched TV shows. Have any of you seen the new-ish sitcom "Trial & Error", starring an uproarious John Lithgow and a yummilicious Nicholas D'Agosto? So funny. So SO funny. Absolutely hands-down my favourite comedy of the recent season. Made me forget my troubles, 20 minutes at a time. 260 minutes went by really quickly, though. Much too quickly.  

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Going off Facebook after YEARS of using it to vent my thoughts and feelings has been incredibly revealing. I learnt how lonely I really am, and how alone, and isolated, and how much I depended on it as an outlet. It's horrible to lose an outlet. It meant I've been trudging about this house with all these thoughts and feelings swirling about my flawed brain with no where to let them out. So I stood in the shower and cried. Then I sat in the shower and cried. Next I tried to eat some dinner and cried. And I went to bed and cried. 

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This is why I write, boys and girls. This is why I tell all these stories. Some of my stories are light and funny, like the #NewHousmateChronicles. Others are deep and meaningful. Others are dark and scary, like this post. But I tell these stories here so that they are out of my system, so that I don't get driven out of my mind. 

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A friend of mine passed me some demos I'd recorded about 10 to 12 years ago (the files of which she'd kept but I'd lost). I listened to some of them today while taking a walk in the hope of raising some endorphins (which didn't really work, since the sight of all the happy, normal families and couples exercising by the foreshore made me miserable), and I realised that some of my lyrics from all those years ago are still relevant today: thoughts about who I am, where I'm going, what life is all about, etc. 

"I kept myself from watching the sunset / Rendered blind by futures unknown." 

"Start to wonder why get out of bed / To face the day, you have to face the dread." 

It saddens me to think that in a dozen years since I recorded these songs, I don't seem to have progressed very far. 

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Apart from "Trial & Error", my other new favourite show is "Downward Dog", which has sadly already been cancelled and which features a talking dog. Martin the dog talks to the camera, to the audience, and philosophises about life from his limited canine viewpoint. It made me miss my dogs, especially my big puppy Ashley, who has always been my therapy dog. And I'm thinking if I moved out to a new place, I'd like to find a house that allows pets. 

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Tonight I made a homemade green chicken curry. It was tasty. It might not sound like much, but when you're being visited by the Black Dog, i.e. depression, making a homemade green chicken curry is quite an accomplishment, let me tell you. (Okay, the green curry paste was out of a packet, but that's beside the point, eh?) 

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(Somewhere along the way I wondered if I'd actually complete this PhD, considering that my primary reason for doing it was to get out of Malaysia because I was convinced it was geographical location that determined my happiness; but that's one thread too many for me to pick at, at this stage - pull on that thread and the whole goddamn thing will bloody unravel.) 

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At some point I'll have to go back to the house with the housemates, but in the meantime, I guess I'll just sit here in the housesit house and breathe a little better, knowing that all these thoughts and feelings I've been internalising for the past four days are now out there in Facebookland for many to see, thereby freeing my brain from the burden and allowing me to rest a little easier. 

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Thank you for reading this, and for those who care, I'm currently OK. I'm going to bed soon, and tomorrow will be another day, and whether or not I have human interaction will depend on the mood and whatnot. (Hey Perth friends who care: if you have nothing to do tomorrow [Monday], come visit me. Bring a six-pack, some snacks, and let's watch movies or marathon 'Trial & Error'. This housesit house has lots of movies. I'm in Kardinya, close to Murdoch Uni. Send me a private message, I'm absolutely serious.) (I'll only check messages in the morning, though.) 

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In the meantime, I have reruns of John Lithgow (including episodes of 3rd Rock, where he ponders: "Oh, it's about FEELINGS, is it? Typical, everything revolves around FEELINGS. Human beings are so controlled by it... by FEELINGS" - uttered with the kind of hilarious disdain only he as the High Commander of an Alien Troop of Explorers can deliver), and Martin the dog, who - in comparing himself to a purebred - wisely told me the other day: 

"It's easy to love yourself when you're a Hunter. But when you're as flawed as I am, learning to love yourself is, like, the bravest thing you could ever do."

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Post script: Nobody came around with a six-pack or snacks to watch movies with me. Sadface.

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