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  • Generation Hex....

    Mental illness runs in my family.

    Addiction and suicide are rife - My fathers side mainly.

    I have his hair. And the same blue/grey eyes. I wonder if this counts? That one day this will be enough to tip me over - and I get to join the ranks of all of those who came before me. 

    They grew up in and out of care my fathers family...Seven institutionalised adults  came churning out of the machine after my nan decided that she didn't much like children after all once they'd arrived. I can only imagine the damage that did to them all...I can't even begin to imagine how that must have felt.

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  • Magical thinking...

    I'm sat in the sunshine with an old friend.

    And so I don't see that he's walking through town until he's right at my table...telling me he's had a drink.

    And those words cut through me like knives and everything changes in an instant, as the grim reaper himself takes a seat right in front of me, grinning like a cheshire cat, pointing at his scythe and mouthing the words "I've got another one..."

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  • Destination anywhere...

    I checked out of my head today.

    I walked out of work, threw some clothes in a bag, jumped in a taxi and got the fuck out of Dodge while I was still able to think straight.

    And no it wasn't planned and yes it came like a tsunami and I ran for the fucking  hills before my over-loaded  head exploded. 

    And I've been here ever since.

    It's not quite Wonderland - although it absolutely could be. I'm a million per cent  sure about that.

    That whacking great spectre of addiction following me around...one claw round my windpipe with every step I'm taking,  ready to throw my bag of clothes in his car and drag me straight  back to hell...

    Well he can fuck right off.

    It's not happening.

    Because I know who he is and I know what he looks like and even though I'm on the fucking floor today I'm still one step ahead of him.

    I have a mental illness. 

    It tries to take over my head and tell me things that aren't true so that I can be a statistic.

    It hangs out with my addiction, giving me  "solutions" to my problems knowing full well that they will make everything a million times worse and play me right into the grim reapers hands...

    Not going there.

    So those two can knock themselves out throwing their curve balls and their skittles at me...

    I'm not playing.

    And when they are done and bored of that, they can fuck off back to Wonderland and give the place they set for me to someone else.

    Because I'm a little bit freaked out and a little bit overwhelmed at the minute granted...but that won't kill me....what I'm not doing is ever drinking tea or eating cake with those two fucker's ever again...because that shit will.

    #badheadday

     

     

  • Firewalls...

    I can't sleep with this guy.

    And it's not like I don't want to.

    I do.

    I really fucking do.

    I just can't get over my nerves.

    Mainly because I really fucking want to...like you wouldn't believe.

    This hasn't happened before and it's freaking me out.

    I don't know what to make of it.

    I've had sober sex. 

    It's fine...

    No Biggie...

    Only with him it's not and so by default it is...

    Before I gave up drinking I'd say that we'd be pretty evenly matched in the bedroom department...both of us curious...both of us hedonists...

    Both of us clearly fancying the fuck out of each other...

    The chemistry is palpable.

    But I did give up drinking and little miss hedonistic had to get her marching orders...and now in bed around him I  feel like the red dwarf cat who's just lost all his cool and has realised he's turned into Dwayne Dibley...

    I could cry.

    I could really fucking cry right now.

    I feel inadequate. I feel shy. I feel like there is absolutely no way on earth that I can show my moves to this man without getting at least a tiny bit shitfaced and losing my inhibitions...

    Only getting shitfaced is not an option.

    Because this man is pretty awesome, granted...

    But awesome enough for me to flush my life back down the toilet for a second time just so that I can sleep with him...?

    No...

    There's nothing in this world "awesome" enough for me to ruin my recovery for...

    Nothing.

    So it that means that bed with this guy maybe won't happen...then fine. 

    Disappointing...but fine.

    I might not be cool but I won't be an addict either...and in the big, grand scheme of things that's really all that matters...

     

    Dwayne Dibley it is then...

     

     

                                                                                                                                              

                                                                                    

                                                                                        

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