| I'm the guy in the sky, flying high flashing eyes, no surprise I told lies... |
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[03 Apr 2010|09:16am] |
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I'm liking the look of IOP, North Thames UCL, Royal Holloway, and Salomons for the DClinPsy. Just in case you wanted to know.
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[28 Mar 2010|11:59am] |
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I'm afraid I'm trashing Kings in my own mind because I don't think I'll get it. I think if I was going to get it when Francesca Hall e-mailed me back it wouldn't have sounded so ominous - "deliberations have ceased"! And I just did one of those stupid tests my mother e-mails around occasionally, the tibetian test, and it told me my main priority is pride, I've never thought of myself as a proud person but I think it might be right?
I was feeling so excited about going to Bristol, but now due to a number of factors I'm reeeeeeally anxious about it and I can't fathom why. I have a job. A PhD. A fellowship for Christ's sake! A bona fide research council fellowship and I'm still not happy?
On a plus side had an otherwise good time in Llundain with Helena, went to a talk at Royal Holloway and Wagamama afterwards for too much noodle goodness (and cake desert :/ ).
My tummy aches, and it's not IBS. It actually hurt last night, like the searing pain I used to get, I can feel my food passing whatever it is inside. It's a bit gross. But it hurts :(
I have resolved each week to post my favourite Postsecret at some point, as a talking point I guess, more because I like to remember them. I've never made my own Postsecret but I know the one I'd make right now.
I'm aware it's been too sexually-related ones in a row, but this is relevant to my time this week. I watched Rhod Gilbert's stand-up for the first time, and he was talking about his girlfriend (who was 34 admittedly) and how she's killing him night after night because nature played that cruel joke, where she's now "hitting her sexual peak with a vengeance" and he's missed his by about 23 years. I laughed but it occurred to me I've never heard or seen that anywhere other than a textbook or somewhere like that, that may be the first time I've ever heard someone actually talking about it, and it's a stunning revelation. I think it's something people should properly take into account.
Scott and I laughed the other day about the phrase "Lie back and think of England". I'd never heard of it before, and said only the English could come up with something so completely chauvinist and abhorrent.
I'm afraid I'm not getting enough work done for Uni. Afraid indeed, I know I'm not. I seriously need to start wising up. Scott's here for all of Easter and I'm afraid it's going to affect my work, I don't want to let Bob down.
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[21 Mar 2010|04:25pm] |
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Reading Luke's blog (and a recent House episode about a blogger) has encouraged me to start writing here again. Although, it should probably be noted that I only really start writing here when I have a decision to make, or I'm bored - in this case it's the former.
Of all the dilemma's to find oneself in, this one is entirely self-inflected. Typically I imagine someone only applies for one PhD, I applied for about six, not because I'm not serious about attending the place I've applied to, but because I'm a pragmatist and getting a PhD the first application round is rare. As it stands I've been rejected by Cambridge cognition unit, offered a PhD after interview at Bristol, interview at King's Institute of Psychiatry, yet to hear from Cardiff, Bangor decide tomorrow whether my research council application goes forward. So, as it stands, I will take Bristol over Bangor, and Kings over Bristol, and waiting for Cardiff is out of the question.
Scott and I sat on the train writing a pros and cons list for the 3 places yesterday, and, of course, Kings comes out on top, and PJ was right, staying in Bangor for another 3 years might be a bad decision. Lance said change is good, and Scott said change for change's sake isn't clever. I'm going to see Jesse tomorrow to ask him, Scott said to talk to someone I trust to be honest, and really I wouldn't have been here applying for PhDs if it wasn't for him. I feel sort of like I'm cheating someone somewhere by telling Bristol I'll have to wait for Bangor to make their decision, because really I want to know what King's are going to say, I think Jeff feels better about me waiting for Bangor than any other uni, I'm glad he understand why I'm doing this, and not just that I'm pissing them about.
But, having said that, it's still sort of not sunk in that I have a PhD, I have a job, somewhere to be in September. This paranoia about not knowing where you'll be come September when the course finishes is endemic to Masters students. I was thinking earlier about when I started my Masters, thinking, these people are my kind of people, the ones who take it seriously, people who've got something to say, a reason to hang around at uni, and they are - but this worry about September! The worry still hasn't even left me, and I know what's happening to me even. I did also say to Scott yesterday after the cinema, we walked to Tesco to buy wine for dinner at Jons and I saw the workers in there stacking shelves, it struck me, I'd always thought when I finished my Masters I'd have to go back to that kind of job, like PC World or something, because I wouldn't be able to get a job, a proper one I mean as a psychologist with the state of affairs at the moment. I couldn't express the relief that I'd never have to have that menial sort of job again! Never! In three to four years I'll be a doctor, a genuine, bona fide, top of the range neuroscientist, I will never again have to meet a sales target or smile when I don't bloody want to.
P.S. I know this song is totally gay, I have a dubstep version somewhere from Charlie, but it's addiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiictive.
I saw this this week, I have no problems with posting this on my journal, which is a definite change from a former self. I love postsecret, and I've never felt closer to an anonymous poster.
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[08 Nov 2009|09:36am] |
Me versus the real world
Retrospection is hell,
For I might just as well
Live inside my own head �
Dreams demand to be fed
On visions unseen,
Things not yet have been
But I see them clear as day,
Premonitions you might say.
Though omens they are not,
For once dreamed they are forgot
As forewarning was deception,
Dreams and life have no connection.
By Tyler_87 |
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| Writer's Block: Spoilers Below the Cut |
[30 Jan 2009|11:07pm] |
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I used to do this to my brother all the time when we were younger. Although, I committed considerably less 'offences' than he would have had my believe generally. Maybe I didn't.
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[25 Sep 2008|10:05pm] |
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I wrote in my diary. If this is all about attention then I just want to be shown how to love myself. I don't want this to be what my whole life is about. I don't want my life to be ruled by this.
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[29 Aug 2008|09:52am] |
My character is split into divisions, some good and some bad.
It's not a bad thing that I want people to like me, not a bad thing that I aim to keep every person I meet happy. I didn't understand when I was younger why knowing that somebody didn't like me would make me feel like I was dying. But I understand that now.
It's not a good thing that I sometimes spend so much of my time ruminating about all the awful things in my life. Assault, abuse, mistakes and things I shouldn't have said mostly.
I tried to tell Scott I feel like a child because I never developed from one, I was never shown how to deal with things like a responsible adult so I just cry at my problems. And it takes me so, so long to do anything about them, to face up to them, because I'm just so afraid.
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| Writer's Block: Where Names Come From |
[02 Aug 2008|11:37pm] |
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My real name is a Cornish translation of my mothers - Janet becomes Jenna. My username is a tag-line for a Californian band the Frustrators, as in 'Go frustrators!'
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[02 Jun 2008|10:17am] |
I have to think up 3 words to describe myself, which I did with my counselor this week, and I think up 'Curious', 'Negative' and 'Conscientious'. And I felt that curious and conscientious were two of very few face-saving qualities I have - and that's only a cheat so people don't realise I'm an idiot. I was thinking about it during our meeting, that maybe I try so hard to prove I'm a good person it tires me out. Maybe that's the reason I feel so tired and worn out and frustrated all the time, because I'm trying hard not to let my guard down. But 'negative' for me, it held everything, my anxiety, phobias, panic, ruminations, anger, fear and regret. My counselor said to write down the opposites of them, so I did. Negative became positive, and she said that most people when faced with the opposite of their self-perception realise that they can be or even are the opposite. So yeah, there are points where I'm positive - it just doesn't last, and I told her that. She said that it was the same principle she's talked about before - where the idea of my positivity doesn't fit my negativity schema, so I just disregard it. Simple as that. I think I'm not a good person so I just forget about the good things I do. I guess. I don't know.
Still trying to find transport to get to South Wales for this conference, trains and bus are well expensive - and £750 waiver on car hire, I don't think so.
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[30 Apr 2008|09:22pm] |
If I take medication it's easier to believe there's nothing wrong with me, but I'm never entirely convinced. What do I say Friday? At 26 College Road? To this psychologist? What are they going to want to know? I thought it was had to remember what it was I felt before anti-depressants, but I realise I just have to think hard for a little while and it comes back.
I know it keeps coming back, I keep getting flashes of memory. And I feel awful, it can happen at the worst times. This is what I need to stop, but can they offer me anything over the summer?
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[19 Apr 2008|06:21pm] |
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Another natural example of how very small structures have very big effects can be found on the feet of geckos, lizards noted for their ability to run across walls and ceilings, sticking effortlessly to the slickest surface. On the bottom of each gecko foot are half a million microscopic hairs, each about one-tenth the diameter of a human hair. The end of each hair splits into hundreds of even tinier hairs, measuring just 200 nanometers across. When a gecko presses its foot down, these tiny hairs unfurl, pressing very closely against the surface. When atoms or molecules are brought very close together, they are weakly attracted to each other. The attractive forces, known as van der Waals forces, operate at the nanoscale so we don't usually notice them. But these forces, multiplied by the millions of hairs on the gecko's feet, hold the lizard to the ceiling quite securely.
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[05 Apr 2008|11:07am] |
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Do we only believe we evolved out of the sea because 95% of the specimens on our fossil record were optimally preserved in the ocean?
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[29 Mar 2008|11:50am] |
My dreams are getting stranger, Scott is disappointed that I don't dream about him. I can't help it, my medication makes me dream the most vivid strange dreams. I dreamed about spiders, the truth about the poisonous qualities of bread, the death of a black soul singer, hiding under bushes in the sand, family dinners at McDonalds with my uncle present, Helens boyfriend Simon on a scooter in a back alley and the literary analysis of the title 'The annals of a serial rapist'. What the fuck, I mean really. So vivid.
Is the reason I tell people a lot of stuff about myself because I am desperate to hear what they think about me, about everything about me, but for the things that really matter? The things I don't want anybody to tell me about? Went out shopping yesterday, took Merry cause he was bored at his grans, and we were talking, and it was odd, I didn't feel the same desperation to talk about myself that I do with other people. Is it because I know him better? Because he knows me better? Because I'm comfortable around such an old friend? I don't know.
I miss Scott, I asked Merry about it, he tells me I should back off, play hard to get or something. Apparently when men are too easily pleased by a woman they lose interest, I mean, I don't know why I'm going to him for advice. I'm in a relationship with Scott, this isn't one-night stand territory that Merry's used to. Either way, I'm happy to be with Scott, and I do miss him, so I figure - why not tell him? He messaged me all the time he was at home so why can't I do the same? I don't know, I think Merry got it wrong, I just don't know :/
Caught a bug my dad and Maz had, sickness and weird tiredness. Bloody annoying. Out in Treff last night with Merry, Lance, Kyle, Gem and Loz. Ace night, Bones couldn't make it but we're watching Lance play in Newport next Tuesday, poker next Monday, and Ogmore Tuesday day. Can't wait for them to meet Scott, they've asked so much already I'm starting to worry they'll have over-estimated him lol Of course I'm painting a good picture, I love the guy to bits.
A couple of days before I came home I was watching House with Scott and there was one episode that came on where a girl in the clinic had an STD and House realised it was through being raped, later they found out she was pregnant and being against abortion she decided to keep it. Anyway, the point is, in order to gain her trust House had to tell her something true about himself, something that proved why she thought he looked 'damaged'. He told her a story about his grandmother who abused him as a child, and she worked out he was lying. At the end of the show he came clean and told her it was true except for the part about the grandmother, it had really been his father. I hated that episode. It disturbed me so much. She kept saying it, over and over again. I was raped. And I couldn't work out why, you only need to initiate a conversation with that idea once and it will stay in someones mind for a forty minute episode. Later in bed just before going to sleep I hadn't stopped thinking about it. I asked Scott is he remembered the time I told him that my mother had told me I was a disgusting example of a daughter and he was horrified. He did, and I said I still laughed when I thought about that, like he thought verbal abuse was that bad? What about something more than verbal abuse? I asked when he thought was a reasonable time to quit dealing with a parent - when they said something like that? Or when you get to the age where you finally realise that physical and verbal abuse, emotional neglect, it's all wrong? I asked him how a six year old is supposed to realise it's wrong? There's no way they could, there was no way I could have, so how do I make that decision now? About my mother? And father? Would it be right to disown them? Forget about them? I was crying, and I apologised. Scott said he knew there was a reason I take medication and he was there to talk about it whenever I was ready. I almost laughed, like he thought it was just that? That felt silly, I felt that that would be silly if I was taking medication just for that. I know rationally that that's ridiculous. It wasn't like he was denigrating the reasons I take anti-depressants, it just felt strange.
Do I want to pull Scott into this? Do I tell him? I need to see my counsellor.
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[19 Mar 2008|05:08pm] |
I think the reason I don't like messaging Scott so much, he's so sweet, he says the sweetest things he really does, but it scares me. I'm afraid it's so easy to like me at a distance, I need someone to like me up-close and as I am, in the flesh. The real me, not someone I make up while messaging.
Part of me wants to run away from him, last night I had a major freak-out because I thought I'd pushed it by calling myself his girlfriend. He was only pretending to be weirded out but I panicked so quickly. I suddenly thought, I can't do this. I have a responsibility to myself to feel okay, to keep my life balanced and easy, am I pushing myself too far? And then I thought, I wanted to run away because I was afraid I'd hurt him, or I was so terribly afraid he'd wake up one morning and realise he really just doesn't like me. I've been chasing guys for a year and a half that I knew were only half-fussed over whether I was alive or not, and I was happy doing that. Pursuing these bastards, I got some strange sort of sick kick out of it. I told myself every time I needed someone normal, happy and caring. Someone who wasn't self-involved, egomaniacal or brash. And Scott is none of these, he's caring and wonderful, and that confuses the. shit. out. of. me.
On the flip side I don't want the reason I'm drawn to him to be the wrong one. Like having male friends, like being attracted to pricks. I'm scared still, do I tell him? Do I tell him about everything? How could I? I don't want to scare him, gross him out. When Dave told me about his abuse, I hate to say it, I know it makes me the most unempathetic bitch on the face of the planet, but it freaked me out. I couldn't look at him the same way, and I wondered did he make that same assumption when I told him? Would it have made things different if he'd told me when we'd been together?
I'm not taking this too seriously, I honestly appreciate that it's only been a matter of days, but I feel like the deeper I get the harder it'll be to get out.
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[19 Mar 2008|10:50am] |
I've resolved to take that post, printed, to my counsellor. It's time i talked about this. She's tired of hearing about my family, about strange concepts of inter-locking thought patterns, spirals of despair and self-deprication. Well, at least, if she's not, I am.
Strange dreams again. Scott says he dreams about me, but I know the rules about dreams. You don't dream about emotional ideas that have been quelled in a day, and I think about him enough to not dream. I dreamed that Lola has brushed out her dreads, and was flicking her hair in front of me to show me. Then a longer dream, it started with a march, then it was in slavery, then I was racing ahead but I was just so, so tired. And I couldn't move quickly, no matter what I did, I pushed as hard as I could and it just felt like everything was moving in slow motion. Or that gravity had suddenly increased ten-fold. It was a strange place too, all burned and sandy and brightly lit. Then it moved to the ocean, and I was looking frantically for 'survivors' and I found some. But we had to be careful, there were dangerous people there too. Then I was on an island, the format of which I remember well. It had a very well built hotel on it, more like a city building on this little island. And there were plants, one particular plant that seemed alive, kept throwing its strange tendrils into the path of the steps, and I had to keep shouting at it to make it recoil. And there were beautiful fishes in the water around the edge of this planted area. Then I realised there was food in there, so I looked for a crowbar and found a spade I think, or something else. I went inside to find the vending machines. I saw a door close on the opposite side of the hotel and got very scared, then I remember there were other survivors on the island. It was very strange :/
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[18 Mar 2008|06:25pm] |
Children should never live in fear of their parents. They should not rule with fear. Commanders rule with fear. Governments rule with fear. Rebels and oppressors rule with fear. Teachers can rule with fear, but parents should never rule with fear.
I remember the swear-words my dad used to use when I was younger, strange skipping-around swear words so he could avoid blasphemy. "Jesus-nelly" Whatever that meant. I remember he used to start it with with "Well..." In a certain voice. And I'd hear that voice. And I'd shake inside, because I knew what came afterwards. I knew that he'd hit me, whether my mother told him to or not. I don't know which is worse, to do it of your own accord or because someone else tells you to.
I don't like watching 'Good Will hunting'. Its a fabulous film but I just don't like the emotional trauma so painfully clear on his face.
Why am I so afraid of using those words? Trauma? Abuse? When I read that website the other day one of them put a character in abu$e, so that they'd never have to write it, or admit what it was, what it meant, what the word or the meaning held for them inside. I feel the same way, but I'm not afraid to say it because of what I'll have to admit to myself, but because of what other people would think if I said it. I'm afraid I'd be questioned, made to feel like it was insignificant, like it was unwarranted. I don't know where this voice is coming from. I'm afraid that my counsellor, anyone, will find out 'the truth'. This 'truth' that I feel inside that I'm just making a big, big deal out of nothing, like these things happened but they're not as bad as I make out. But I didn't lie? This really happened, all of this really happened. Maybe I've spent so long trying to forget it, or ignore it. Maybe I realised I was an attention-seeker, and I worried that this was my way of gaining attention. These things are, of course, the very reason I crave attention. I understand that.
I tried to pass it off at the time as something I'd planned, something I did. Maybe I did know what it was. Maybe I knew what was going on, but I was so young. I didn't understand, is that okay? Does that make it okay? Does that not make it assault? I'm so afraid of that boundary, but I don't even know which boundary I'm worried about. The boundary of the law, the boundary of whether it makes me feel violated or not. The other things, before, were they as wrong? I didn't stop it. I didn't do anything to stop these things, if anything I went along with it. Did I think it was playing? Did they know what it was? Where did they learn it? So young? Why can't I remember them properly? Other people, girls, maybe they did this, 'voluntarily', maybe they're confused too, maybe they don't realise it's wrong. Is it the same thing as realising that physical and emotional abuse is not conducive to a normal functioning family?
I don't want to be part of this club, this statistic, this group of people. I don't want to take medication, none of this is my fault. I didn't do anything, what did I do to deserve this? What did I ever do?
That is the single most concise, honest and open way I have ever expressed that.
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