This morning, as I was cycling to circuits along a side street, a little old lady stepped off the pavement to get past a bike that somebody had dumped, almost directly in front of me. I made a slight oh-oh noise and managed to go around her, but wasn't too fussed. In this city, you need to be brave to cycle and I've sort of got used to people stepping out without looking: it's not nearly as bad as sadistic bus drivers, or people who open their passenger door straight into the cycle lane! It was 7am, so she probably wasn't expecting anyone on the road. Anyway, I was going quite slowly, as I was parking only about 100m ahead, where the nearest bike rack to circuits is. But as I was locking up my bike, said little old lady caught up with me - and apologised for stepping out in front of me. I was absolutely gobsmacked!!
Training is... painful. For the last year my times, while not great, have been some of the better on the squad, purely because I'm big and powerful (not technically great). Now there are people taller than me, and fitter than me... and yet I'm so used to being the faster that I'm pushing myself HARD just to stay ahead. Admittedly they're young and inexperienced so I don't need to be pushing quite so hard just now but it really isn't fun atm!
We finally got around to doing some hard sprint work: we do a surprising amount of endurance and stamina and general fitness for what is essentially a sprint event. I've been telling myself I need to do some hard work and of course I haven't so now I get to do it with the coach yelling at me... Ah well, all in a day's work.
Thursday, 7 February 2008
Wednesday, 6 February 2008
Guilty
Verdict was reached yesterday afternoon. I don't know all the details yet, as I wasn't there. But the prosecution magicked up a few new witnesses, and the end result was that my friend pleaded guilty to lesser charges, on the basis that more extreme ones were dropped. I feel a bit lost really. The worst thing is I've started to wonder if he really did do it. A week ago I was so sure he was innocent. Pretty crap really.
Tuesday, 5 February 2008
I believe we survive, George
I never thought that (as comforting as I find it) Grey's Anatomy would be the thing to give me something to start fighting for. I mean the cutting helps, and the sleeping helps, and the eating helps. But the bit that made me snap, and smile for the first time in however many days, and come back to life a bit was an episode of GA. It's the 2 parter with the ferry boat crash (not one I've seen before). And Izzie is trying to convince people that everything will be ok.
It's so true. I survive because I have to survive. Because I always trust that I will come out of this. Because I'm not afraid to let God take care of things... this week I became afraid and it served no purpose. So I guess I take a big breath and start again.
Court... court was a bit of a mess so I'll just leave that out.
I went to the gym last night with Shorty to do some sprint work. We spend so much time doing endurance training for what is essentially a sprint event. My times were reasonable but I reckon they were better last year - it's actually been over 8 months since I last did real sprint work, as over the summer I was on my own and in the winter training nearly slowed to a standstill. So I guess I just have to get my ass in gear and do some work on my own.
I know people die. People die in front of us every day. But Meredith will survive this. I believe - I - I believe in the good. I believe that it's been a hell of a year, and I believe that in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, we'll all be okay. I believe a lot of things. I believe that - I believe that Denny is always with me. And I believe that if I eat a tub of butter and no one sees me, then calories don't count. And I believe that surgeons who prefer staples over stitches are just lazy. And I
believe that you are a man who made a terrible mistake marrying Callie. And I believe that because I am your best friend, I can tell you this and we can be okay. I believe that even though you made this mistake, *you* will be okay. I believe we survive, George. I believe that believing we survive is what makes us survive
It's so true. I survive because I have to survive. Because I always trust that I will come out of this. Because I'm not afraid to let God take care of things... this week I became afraid and it served no purpose. So I guess I take a big breath and start again.
Court... court was a bit of a mess so I'll just leave that out.
I went to the gym last night with Shorty to do some sprint work. We spend so much time doing endurance training for what is essentially a sprint event. My times were reasonable but I reckon they were better last year - it's actually been over 8 months since I last did real sprint work, as over the summer I was on my own and in the winter training nearly slowed to a standstill. So I guess I just have to get my ass in gear and do some work on my own.
Monday, 4 February 2008
Train to Aberdeen
So I'm back in uni having spent 2 hours this morning trying to find out whether or not I'm due in court today. I finally called 118 118 to get a phone number for the court so I now know trial starts at 12pm, but still not whether I should be there. So I've come back in to print some papers to read and work on and then I might just go - worst that can happen is I miss a day's work and stuff.
I was sat in the train station, just waiting and waiting. It reminded me of after we moved, when I was forever sat in a train station, playing my guitar, waiting for the next connection. Everytime they called the train I needed I half contemplated getting on it, and not bothering about whether or not I should be there. Then they started calling the train for Aberdeen. I've never been to Aberdeen. It seems a long way away from everything that's wrong right now and just for a little I considered I might up and run. I've got about 3 days worth of clothes with me, as I don't know if I'll have to stay away for the trial. I'm smart, I've nearly got my degree... I could just start again somewhere couldn't I?
Anyway, I'm now stressed and confused and scared and wondering whether it'd be rude to phone back the barristers... But at least I'm sane. Last night... I feel like a failure but at least I can think straight now. Even if straight is seeing how much I'm hurting myself.
I was sat in the train station, just waiting and waiting. It reminded me of after we moved, when I was forever sat in a train station, playing my guitar, waiting for the next connection. Everytime they called the train I needed I half contemplated getting on it, and not bothering about whether or not I should be there. Then they started calling the train for Aberdeen. I've never been to Aberdeen. It seems a long way away from everything that's wrong right now and just for a little I considered I might up and run. I've got about 3 days worth of clothes with me, as I don't know if I'll have to stay away for the trial. I'm smart, I've nearly got my degree... I could just start again somewhere couldn't I?
Anyway, I'm now stressed and confused and scared and wondering whether it'd be rude to phone back the barristers... But at least I'm sane. Last night... I feel like a failure but at least I can think straight now. Even if straight is seeing how much I'm hurting myself.
Sunday, 3 February 2008
Welcome to Rock Bottom
Well that didn't take long. Tonight, I actually did hit rock bottom. The kind that involves scissors. And it wasn't the experience of being torn to pieces in court, or the hectic training schedule, or the pressure of work, or being blown off again but the OtherHalf that doesn't want me. It was feeling rejected by the only real friends I think I have in this place.
We've been playing this card game, where you're not allowed to discuss the rules and more and more are made up as the game goes along. I've played it before - with them and back in my first year - and it's an awesome game. But their basic rules are different to mine - so I spot the hard stuff but get screwed over by things everyone but me knows not to do. Which is fine: it makes me laugh. But tonight we played in a fairly large group and this one girl kept mocking me for every bad card. Somehow when the guys do that it's ok - maybe because I know them but actually because I think they genuinely are nice about it. But she just kept pushing my buttons.
I was scared about tomorrow - well I still am: I'm terrified. And I wanted to talk so badly. But playing cards seemed a nice alternative. So when I finally got fed up and folded I went back to church and sat for a while, talking to God. Except He's not replying at the moment. And gradually it dawned on me that He wasn't there for the tough training, and He hasn't been there while I've been worrying about court tomorrow and... actually... He's been absent a lot lately. And pretty soon after all this the tears came. Half an hour later I just wanted out; just needed to calm down. And as fate would have it I had some scissors - not particularly sharp ones mind so it'll heal fast.
That's probably the fastest I've come down. Generally once the adrenaline kicks in you can go one of two ways: into wake up and stop mode or into harder and faster and deeper mode. You can't do either if you don't really need that - I discovered in my teens how impossible to cut it is when you don't really need it (at least if you use a relatively blunt knife, which is a good call if you don't want to risk your life). So I guess I can be proud of that in a way. Just means I've fallen off the wagon again... 9 months on... except last time I'd managed 18 - my longest ever. And last time I felt like a failure. Now it seems an inevitability. Am I slipping again?
We've been playing this card game, where you're not allowed to discuss the rules and more and more are made up as the game goes along. I've played it before - with them and back in my first year - and it's an awesome game. But their basic rules are different to mine - so I spot the hard stuff but get screwed over by things everyone but me knows not to do. Which is fine: it makes me laugh. But tonight we played in a fairly large group and this one girl kept mocking me for every bad card. Somehow when the guys do that it's ok - maybe because I know them but actually because I think they genuinely are nice about it. But she just kept pushing my buttons.
I was scared about tomorrow - well I still am: I'm terrified. And I wanted to talk so badly. But playing cards seemed a nice alternative. So when I finally got fed up and folded I went back to church and sat for a while, talking to God. Except He's not replying at the moment. And gradually it dawned on me that He wasn't there for the tough training, and He hasn't been there while I've been worrying about court tomorrow and... actually... He's been absent a lot lately. And pretty soon after all this the tears came. Half an hour later I just wanted out; just needed to calm down. And as fate would have it I had some scissors - not particularly sharp ones mind so it'll heal fast.
That's probably the fastest I've come down. Generally once the adrenaline kicks in you can go one of two ways: into wake up and stop mode or into harder and faster and deeper mode. You can't do either if you don't really need that - I discovered in my teens how impossible to cut it is when you don't really need it (at least if you use a relatively blunt knife, which is a good call if you don't want to risk your life). So I guess I can be proud of that in a way. Just means I've fallen off the wagon again... 9 months on... except last time I'd managed 18 - my longest ever. And last time I felt like a failure. Now it seems an inevitability. Am I slipping again?
Getting scared now
So trial starts tomorrow. Which means I should be panicking a little. Well I am - I had two nightmares last night, which - while not too unusual - is almost certainly connected. But it's actually less about what I'll say, and what they'll say, and more closely connected to the fact that I haven't been told if they need me. I know they want me on the stand, and I know trial starts tomorrow. But not where the court is (this isn't in my city so I need to travel) or even if I'm wanted tomorrow. So I guess I just have to rock up and see - gonna feel so so out of place. Can't believe a friend's life is resting in my hands.
Saturday, 2 February 2008
Rock bottom
4 hours sleep + training hard + frustration at everybody else not training hard + not eating properly + a shit OtherHalf who doesn't want to see me + too much work I can't motivate myself to do = falling apart at the seams.
I think I've hit rock bottom again - the same thing happened around this time last year. I've got 8 essays and my extended essay to write and dissertation needs finishing (for real) but I can't motivate myself to work. I had 4 hours sleep on Thursday night (a story for another time) and not too many more last night: I've got a couple of hours free now but instead of catching up on that sleep I'll go and try to work, fail, fall asleep in the library and wake up feeling worse than before. I've got a whole load of training that I'm going to have to make up because of being in court, although I still don't know when and I'm sick of freshers who don't turn up or don't work hard so we have to do extra sessions. I'm torn between masochistic joy and just being so so tired, and so so lost. But I won't take time off, or stop or be rational... I'll just let myself fail.
There are two tell tale signs at this point. One is that the fact that OtherHalf doesn't want to see me is bothering me. It bothers me to the point where I start thinking about how unbalanced this is, and how much I hate caring about somebody so much who would probably have kept me as a friend who they pulled occasionally if given the choice. It bothers me to the point where I desperately just want to end it now, just pull the plaster off and get it over with because I know I'll only end up unhappy.
The other sign is that my evil self-harming twin starts to emerge. Not the one that likes killing me at the gym, the one with the razorblades. I spent the 4 years before I came to uni fighting that twin so hard, and thought I'd finally won when I got here. I stayed clean until about this time last year, when I cracked under the pressure of training and work. Now I'm clean again, but today for the first time in a long time it just seemed like the obvious solution. It's so simple, and it gives you at least an hour of sanity. I could really do with that hour right now. Fortunately sports training and communal showering tend to offer enough incentive to keep me clean. At home I was silent for 2.5 years, until I realised how common it was, and became totally open. I hate people who are proud of it, but equally it's a part of who I've been, and probably who I still am. But I just don't think I'm ready to be labelled a freak again just yet.
There are a couple of freshers I know from CU who I've become very close to - guys I can just talk about anything with, far more than I can with my flatmates, or my music friends, or probably even OtherHalf. I think it says something that for the first time today I started planning to avoid them - because I can't face telling them how badly I'm coping, but I know that if I see them I will. And the worst bit is they wouldn't judge me - they'd probably help. But right now I really really just can't.
I think I've hit rock bottom again - the same thing happened around this time last year. I've got 8 essays and my extended essay to write and dissertation needs finishing (for real) but I can't motivate myself to work. I had 4 hours sleep on Thursday night (a story for another time) and not too many more last night: I've got a couple of hours free now but instead of catching up on that sleep I'll go and try to work, fail, fall asleep in the library and wake up feeling worse than before. I've got a whole load of training that I'm going to have to make up because of being in court, although I still don't know when and I'm sick of freshers who don't turn up or don't work hard so we have to do extra sessions. I'm torn between masochistic joy and just being so so tired, and so so lost. But I won't take time off, or stop or be rational... I'll just let myself fail.
There are two tell tale signs at this point. One is that the fact that OtherHalf doesn't want to see me is bothering me. It bothers me to the point where I start thinking about how unbalanced this is, and how much I hate caring about somebody so much who would probably have kept me as a friend who they pulled occasionally if given the choice. It bothers me to the point where I desperately just want to end it now, just pull the plaster off and get it over with because I know I'll only end up unhappy.
The other sign is that my evil self-harming twin starts to emerge. Not the one that likes killing me at the gym, the one with the razorblades. I spent the 4 years before I came to uni fighting that twin so hard, and thought I'd finally won when I got here. I stayed clean until about this time last year, when I cracked under the pressure of training and work. Now I'm clean again, but today for the first time in a long time it just seemed like the obvious solution. It's so simple, and it gives you at least an hour of sanity. I could really do with that hour right now. Fortunately sports training and communal showering tend to offer enough incentive to keep me clean. At home I was silent for 2.5 years, until I realised how common it was, and became totally open. I hate people who are proud of it, but equally it's a part of who I've been, and probably who I still am. But I just don't think I'm ready to be labelled a freak again just yet.
There are a couple of freshers I know from CU who I've become very close to - guys I can just talk about anything with, far more than I can with my flatmates, or my music friends, or probably even OtherHalf. I think it says something that for the first time today I started planning to avoid them - because I can't face telling them how badly I'm coping, but I know that if I see them I will. And the worst bit is they wouldn't judge me - they'd probably help. But right now I really really just can't.
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