one, two, three, four, fiiiiiive, four, three, two, one… When I get back from Hell Again…

“When I get back from hell again
I’m gonna be so elegant
The relevance of my benevolence is evident
I’m sentimental 
Oh no I mean I’m said to be mental 
When I don’t get what I want
I find it’s hard just to be gentle
Gentle? The rental of some self control
When you lose your mind 
Is when you start to find your soul unfold “

Sometimes you need more than gameface. After a day that involved yesterday’s down, game face, warpaint and having game (as WELL as game face) is needed. Somtimes you need something to boost you along a little. I like poetry for that a lot, a nice bit of Larkin, or some Betjemin, or something fucked up and trippy like Blake. You won’t read very many blog posts from me that reference as many lyrics as this, being as I’m 32 and not a one direction fan. This song though, has always been my gameface anthem since I first heard it, and I need it today. Dan le Sac vs. Scroobius Pip? Just a band. A band that speaks to me sometimes when I need it though, and today is one of those days;

“This morning when I woke up
All the thoughts that I had just broke up
Broken fragments of my dreams left me choked up
Distant memories I’d repressed all spoke
Ooooh Fuuck 
This was something that I wasn’t expecting 
My dreams solidifies and started asking me questions
And the deeper I looked into their hate-filled eyes
I realised they were you, only in disguise
So I jumped to my feet
How the fuck did I become so weak?
Too soon did I admit defeat
I grabbed a pen and start writing to the beat
And I wrote:”

Usually this would be rapped along to at excessive volume while shadow boxing to it’s bounciness and getting my stuff ready. I’m still a little beyond bouncing with the ankle being in recovery. Still. The above sums up the average morning for me… wakefulness, recollection, confusion, depression and then being a bit angry with myself and needing to do something. What I will say is rapping along and putting on eyeliner is easier when you’re not hopping around the room. Today’s task was to go into a cafe, have a coffee and read for an hour. Doesn’t sound like a lot? When I’ve been in this kind of mood getting out the house is an olypmic medal. It is with a loathsome amount of self shame (loathsome because I know I’m depressed and I write a lot about how people shouldn’t feel bad about how it affects them BUT it is hard to be gentle, especially with yourself) I’ll admit to feeling too feeble to read a new book at the moment. I am enjoying rereading Glen Duncan’s Hope. It’s not as lovely as it sounds. It’s about a man with a weird porn addiction and his relationship with his prostitute. I did need to do the makeup today. Again, it sounds silly. I was going into town for a coffee and a read. I am an enlightened woman, I know I don’t have to, or need to wear it. Sometimes the mask is helpful though, an extra layer against the world. That’s the gameface and having game thing. It took another hour after getting dressed and putting on makeup to actually make it out of the house and to the bus stop. It took some psyching up. I am ashamed of my self defeat today, today I will fight my self defeat. Going into town for a cuppa and a read is positive, not small and petty and stupid. Repeat until believed. Leave the house.

“As time went by
I realised you can’t just drop out
But I’m telling you man
It’s hard to block out
The sound that rebounds and resounds
And resounds again
Off the walls of my mind
’cause I miss my… friends
But now I’m on a mission to mend
Everything that broke and make it glisten again
Strip down redesign construct and improve
While the rest procrastinate I’ll be making my move”

I am making changes. I don’t feel them like I don’t feel the world move under my feet. Sometimes it’s so slow and gradual that I miss it. I just need to teach myself to think differently. In January I wouldn’t have done this. I couldn’t. I went to a mental health arts cafe in Leeds. I got through the door, ordered a coffee, sat with it avoiding anyone’s eye for ten minutes and then hightailed it home. Eight weeks ago my arms were like claws and I couldn’t navigate three streets away to the local supermarket where I was staying. Today I am dressed and washed and have some makeup on. I am sat on a bus trying not to cry at the sheer futility of it, but at least I’m on the bus. I haven’t been to some of my local friends houses in over a year.

Other changes I am working damn hard for. This blog included. Getting to uni, printing again, painting again, crowdsourcing and speaking out. I beat myself up for wallowing in the mire but that’s The Daily Mail creeping in like mercury. The truth is, whether I can let myself believe it or not, is that depression is distorting that to a ridiculous extent. In the last two months I have seized my life back. It’s hard to keep a grip but I’m managing. I’m being told by people I’m writing well. I should appreciate that. Repeat until believed.

“I hope in years to come I’ve elevated
But chances are I’ll be inebriated
But that’s cool
As long as my mind ain’t sedated
And the things that I’ve learned 
Haven’t been erased and wasted”

I’ll get there. It’s not as easy as taking inspiration from books, or absorbing as much news as I can or painting it all away. It’s all of it and nothing. Those things will always been there. My brain is not desiccating. I just don’t have access to all the resources i need to put it to it’s proper use at the moment. The change needs to come from me. Proper therapy and appropriate medications and diagnosis improvements will help, but in the end they’ll only ever be tools to help me manage this myself. Like brain diabetes or something.

“When you forget about the hand your dealt
All that really matters is the things you’ve felt
So fuck it, bring on the good and bad times
If rapping don’t work I’ll start a band of mimes
When you forget about the hand you’re dealt
All that really matters is the things you’ve felt
So fuck it, bring on the good and bad times 
If rapping don’t work I’ll start a band of mimes
When I get back from hell again
I’m gonna be so elegant
The relevance of my benevolence is evident”

Well, paint and stuff works for me like rapping but you get the drift. This is why this song is my power anthem. It was not written for me, but I relate to it in a way that helps. On gameface day that’s needed.

All lyrics are copyrighted to Dan le Sac vs Scroobius Pip (that’s the bits in italics that are more eloquent and succinct than my own ramblings) if you want to hear the song it’s here  but not on their youtube channel which you should probably look at if I’m going to shamelessly whore their lyrics.

I’m still crowdfunding for oil paints, so my dear regular readers, please pass on links to this blog. I’m asking none of you directly, I just need to put the crowd in source…


5 thoughts on “one, two, three, four, fiiiiiive, four, three, two, one… When I get back from Hell Again…

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