two phone calls today, both asking for money

one of them did offer me a foot tall penguin who wears a shirt and hat, though

for $59.95

sick

the end

730 could not have come soon enough

i have just returned from the newsagent, having bought my son the scorpion issue of real life bugs and insects.

if you have a problem with this, please take it up with me, and leave him and his brother out of it

boys are stupid

can anyone explain why both my columns are the same width now, even tho i didnt touch my template?

in the last week or so there has been a strange influx of new people coming to my blog, and its via some weird search requests. normally its 'little girl sex' and the like

carly gallante blog
little faerie girl
music by the wankers of australia
carly poloway blog
updown moneytaker
opening night of equus

i particularly enjoy 'music by the wankers of australia', except they were looking in the wrong place. they need to look at my myspace for that

today i saw a boy of about 16, walking down the road. he was wearing tight jeans, sneakers, had a shaved head, and had a tight, thin t shirt on with a packet of smokes up the sleeve

it reaffirmed my faith in the world

thinking about walking

i realised last night that the reason id been sleeping all day since sunday was that saturday morning was the last time i'd taken my medicine. instead of taking it then, i made myself a proper dinner, thought about how it'd been 4 days, and wondered if i could go 5.

i ate my dinner, i watched friends, i laughed because i genuinely find it funny. i did all of this in my loungeroom for a change, instead of my bedroom. but then i went back to my room, and i stayed there until this afternoon, with breaks for toilet, toast and tea.

i decided to take my medication today. at 330. this should make it safe for me to drive to bens tonight.

i thought about walking to the shops to get milk, as i've been going through it quite quickly. then, as i looked at my medication, i saw i only had one left, and then changed my mind about walking, thinking that driving would be better, as i could go to the chemist as well.

then i put down my glass and realised i shouldnt drive yet

Wazzapedia.

Depression, in my own words.
Posted September 17th, 2008 by Warwick

You can’t explain to someone who hasn’t been there what it’s like to wake up, and the black curtain of storm clouds have suddenly dropped around you. How do you face the people around you, silently mouthing to each other “again?”. How can you explain that the objectively irrational impulses seem subjectively rational? That you understand that you’re not OK, but there’s nothing you can do to change it, while the world goes on making demands as if you still felt “normal”.

Your partner still wants you to be able to be there for her. The kids still want to get hugs from you - and they still need to eat. The boss still wants you to output widgets. The bank still wants you to make payments on the credit cards you used to survive when things went pear-shaped last time. The landlord still wants his rent.

There are two ways things can go from here. Sometimes with a good night’s sleep (or two, or more), and some looking after yourself, things will be OK again, and you’ll pick up your stuff, and keep moving forwards.

Sometimes, things don’t get better. The wiring isn’t just on the fritz, it’s burnt out. If you ask for help, they’ll insist on chemical assistance. They don’t really understand quite why or how the chemicals work, but “they should help”. They might (will) have side effects. The cure might end up being worse than the disease. If that one doesn’t work, they have others. Or a cocktail of medications, each one to deal with the side effects of another. That way lies its own unique madness.

With the meds, they might prescribe talking. Lots of talking, in the vain hope that like the infinite monkeys with their infinite typewriters might turn out some Shakespeare, if you say enough words for long enough, everything might fall into place. Sometimes they’re good at listening, sometimes they’re not. With the right person, it helps.

Some sift your words carefully, picking out the little nuggets of truth that help you understand a little better who you are. Others nod, grunt, and write you another prescription. I’ve known both. And it’s expensive to sit in a little room and talk. When you’re in a situation where you need to sit in a little room and talk, there’s a good chance that you’re not in a position to be able to afford it.

Fortunately, for me, most days now resemble ordinary. I wake up. I stare at the face in the mirror worn with lines I don’t remember collecting, and stubble that feels like it belongs on someone older than me. I go to work, and try to fit into “normal” like a cheap suit that I bought in a hurry and can’t take back.

But occasionally, there are those days. Days where the mask is tissue-paper thin. Surviving the day is an act of will that leaves a lingering exhaustion that seeps into your bones. Like a drowning man in a flash flood, you wrap yourself around the hope that the waters will recede soon, and you’ll be safe and dry again.

At least until the next deluge.

anything different?

no

same shit is going on

i've just finished reading the twilight series

last night i watched wilfred

and today i started watching the girl from tomorrow again

thats about it

oh hai. my week? you want to know about my week? um, well, sure, but...do you really want to know? ok then. feel free to stop listening whenever you like

when i got the kids back from voldemorts on sunday night, the first thing i said when i saw x was 'he's sick'. no he's not, he's fine, is the response. actually no, he's sick. they're both sick. x has spots all over his face, his eyes are glassy and he has a temperature. he had called me the day before (at 6am, grrr kids) to tell me he had a rash on his tummy, i told him to show his dad. i call my mum, she says 'german measles'. x says 'its just puberty mum, its ok, i can handle it, it only lasts for a few years and it was bound to happen some time'. i say, no x, you are 9 years old.
then e crashes out on the couch, his whole body hot, his eyes are glassy, his throat hurts, i give him panadol, he vomits everywhere.

bed time

monday - kids still sick and spend the day on the couch watching dvds. by the end of the day they are worse and i decide to call the doctor and make an appointment for tuesday morning. they say bring them in now, its not busy. i call their dad to ask for help as i cant carry two boys. he says he having dinner (with his girlfriend) but will 'come later'. i get angry and hang up. stupid girlfriend. he calls later and asks where i am. im home, waiting for you. why arent you at the doctor? because you said you would come here and help me. no i didnt. fuck you. i hang up, take the kids to the doctor, make x walk as i cant carry him, we get put in an isolation room, and then go in to see the doctor.

they dont have german measles. i didnt think they would, they've been immunised, they have a virus which has turned into an infection, coming out as spots all over his face in x case, and e has a virus and strep throat. take them home, fluids, panadol, etc, usual sick kid things. dad knocks on the door and is automatically a hero for turning up with showbags, stupid girlfriend is in the waiting room with her stupid face on. i have to go to the chemist and buy medicines while he gets to be the good parent and give treats.

we go home

then i remember, im supposed to go on a date tomorrow. im supposed to be meeting this boy for coffee. i cant go. i message him and tell him im sorry, that im not ditching him, but i cant see him tomorrow and will have kids home all week, more than likely. his response is short. i figure hes a lost cause now

tuesday. damn kids get up at 6 am and run around the back yard with the bow and arrow set that came from the show. they dont show a single sign of being sick, apart from x spots which already look better after one dose of medicine. original coffee time ticks over and i have a cup of tea, by myself. its not the same.

i message him and say, based on the behaviour of my children, that coffee tomorrow would be good. he says yes, that would be good. its all set.

tomorrow comes. i take x to school, and take e to the dentist for the last little part of his teeth fixing. when we get there, some kid is screaming its head off so they suggest we go for a walk for ten minutes. we walk to the playground, maybe 30-40 metres away? we talk and he plays, i put my hand in my pocket to check the time, and my phone isnt there. my brand new phone. as in only got it last week brand new. my phone that i actually like and can use and holds actual songs and can picture message and isnt shit. we retrace our steps. 3 times. no phone. e goes into the dentist and we find out that he's actually having two teeth ripped out today, and wont be going back to school after this. date? what date?

we go home. i call my phone. its unavailable. of course it is, its currently being used as a swap to buy drugs in christie downs. i call miffy. she says she'll come over and look after e so i can go tell sam i cant make the date, because i cant call him or message him because his number is in my phone. then she decides that she'll do her uni work at my house with luke and watch e, and i can get a coffee. so its maybe going to be alright

so we talk, and we drink coffee, and we walk back to our cars, and its nice. and im seeing him again.

and i go home, and i call optus who say 'oh my god! you really did only get your brand new phone last week! i feel so bad for you! here, i've credited $120 to your account. that should cover a few of your bills so you can buy a new phone.'

wow

then i go to the optus shop for a new sim card which they give me instead of charging $39 for

again, wow

i go home, activate my new sim and find out that all my old numbers and messages are there and i have the same phone number.

sams messages that he sent wednesday morning come through, so i have his number again. we organise to see each other thursday night. except thursday night shows and he doesnt.

e cries and whimpers and talks and moans and wriggles and calls out from approximatley 10 until 4 in the morning. i go in there time and time again, whats wrong, whats the matter? i finally get out of him that he thinks he might be frightened. he doesnt know what he's frightened of tho. i ask him what is the best thing ever. fishing with dad? i suggest. bugs and dinosaurs? gardening, he says. think of gardening, i say. and think how you are brave and happy and the strongest loveliest sweetest boy in the whole world and i love you.

he ends up kicking me for the rest of the morning in my bed.

so now im back where i was two weeks ago. no sleep, sore back, broken phone, grring about boys. my life will never go forwards

look, im facebook

carly is currently sitting online on msn, looking at someone else sitting online on msn, and not talking to him

i was bored today, and thinking about what i like doing, in case i felt like doing any of the things i came up with. except that what i like doing is sleeping, reading, and kissing. i guess in that respect i can look at my day and say i did most of the things i like doing, except that i would have liked to do the last one, had i had a willing participant. but im bored. fat and bored. every night i go to bed thinking about how tomorrow i'll eat healthy and exercise and get fitter and healthier, and every day i laze around eating shit food and making myself more and more miserable.

i worked out today that i basically live on variations of bread and water. toast in various forms (regular toast, toastie toasties, grilled cheese toast, fruit toast, muffins) and water (plain water, cups of tea). apart from the water, this isnt the slightest bit healthy.

if there was a way i could sleep and wake up thinner, happier and healthier, i'd take it.

if there was a plane at the end of my driveway, going to dublin, i'd take that too.

feburary is very cheap to fly away. specifically to dublin.

i wont go though. i'll sit here in suburban adelaide and be sad and alone for the rest of my life

what a happy thought

im going to bed