Am i lost?

I recently wrote a post on my blog about Crazy Glue.

Crazy Glue Kicks Clag’s Ass In the Treatment of Broken People.

So how do you fix anything that’s broken? Well, im guessing in America you could fix them with Crazy Glue. Im an Aussie though so all we have is Clag. I’m pretty sure that Clag never really fixed anything including one piece of paper to another. Actually based on what i know of all the kids that ate Clag in primary school all it does is fuck you up … well fuck you up more. I’m pretty sure that the type of person that enjoyed dining on Clag already you already had issues. If you are a Clag consumer and you are reading this … well done and how are you doing sunshine? I didn’t expect you to make it past Grug books.

I have spent a large part of this week broken. Not irrevocably shattered, just a little bit broken… well more broken then normal. Actually ive always been a bit broken and its hard to pin point w.hen it started exactly. Mum says she didn’t drop me on my head (not that she would admit it) however she did encourage me to ride large, slightly broken (as in the brain not as in broken in) horses and laugh at me when i did fall on my head. This, i am convinced, is just being dropped on my head by proxy.

I dont think it was horses that broke me though i think it was fellow humans. I was not the popular kid in high school, in fact i was the drifter, the one that just hung out with a different group every day. I blame my parents, i went to so many different primary schools as a kid i was never properly socialised. I wasnt as bad as the kid that used to fling his desk across the room and wiped his ass on other peoples folders (well mine) but i was the kid that was a bit fat, a bit ugly and had the second hand clothes from the op shop. I had a couple of friends but only one who i still contact on a bi annual basis. Actually i think i know when the first cracks started but im not willing to go there and deal with that yet, even though i know this blog is just a ripple in the whole of the internet that no one reads.

High School was when i first decided that the best way to stop the pain being broken was to kill myself. Of course it sounds stupid now when i am in a non broken state of mind. At the time though i was convinced that by removing the razor blade from a pink plastic lady shaver and swiping it across my wrists i would fix everything. The world would rejoice, people would skip to work and a weight would be lifted from the shoulders of the earth. Of course with such a flimsy weapon i was able to cut just deep enough to bleed profusely, be hide to hide and to scar. It also earned me a severe berating from my mum and a huge guilt trip.

The next time i hit rock bottom was when i was living with a friend on her couch. She brought home a man after a night on the town and my 20 year old self imploded for no particular reason. I ferreted through her flat until i found several stockpiles of her migraine medication. I was unsure at the time if it was lethal so i consumed as much as possible, around 50 in the end i think. I spent the night drifting in and out of consciousness and vomiting in the bathroom. The next day i was still alive and felt like shit. Two nights later i tried again to slit my wrists, i was pretty drunk so really have no idea what i used but it only achieved the same results as the first time.

I have hit a few bad patches since then, a lot of people call it “the black dog”, “the deep hole” or their own version of it. I just call it being broken. I lost the person i thought of as my best friend because of being broken. I also found a lot of other people that i love deeply (in a purely non feely upy way) because they were broken too. One of them forced me to talk to her and then forced me to laugh, another employed the “i love you no matter what” and another one just kept ringing and texting until i answered. I love the three of you and i hope you know who you are.

So i spent some time researching on the interwebs the best way to off oneself. Purely for research i told myself, just out of morbid curiosity. I found some really interesting facts on suicide and i also found the checklist a mental health worker, doctor or lifeline person will use to asses weather you are broken enough to harm yourself of others. I also found that lifeline are lying fuckers, they say its confidential but if you tick enough boxes on the crazy checklist they totally send a cop to your house for a “welfare check”. Honestly i have thought about calling these lines before and i when i think about why, i think, in some bizarre twisted way i was looking for permission. I know WTF right, like you are going to ring lifeline and like all “dude i want to die’ and the person on the other end of the line is going to go “yup thats a great idea, may i suggest exposure” anyways i am far to paranoid for that.

This of course was all for research. I was most certainly having a broken week but just the crying for no particular reason and checking out suicide facts week, not a stabby, ingesty, dyie week. When i get this way i need to withdraw from the world, shut down, curl up and heal in my own broken little way. I cant be the person that bounces off the walls in excitement over your latest, job, promotion, baby, boyfriend, engagement. I cant be the person that listens to your problems and offers a solution or even just a shoulder. I cant think about anyone or anything other then breathing in and out and to stop-the-fuck-crying-already (seriously WTF tear ducts WTF) This is where i would totally use Crazy Glue if i had some and why, when i go to the States next year with three pretty awesome people i am going to buy a fuckload of it and only one of them will understand.

This week was a bit different though, i currently have Carpal Tunnel and being a government employee i had been issued with a few key people, rehab worker, case manger and a psychologist. A PSYCHOLOGIST, wtf, (insert agency) wtf? I talked to someone who i work with who just went through the same thing, she just got the case manager and the rehab worker. Great the department i work for are on to me.

As i said this week i was feeling damn broken and doing the “oh-my-god-i-dropped-a-pea-on-the-floor-and-need-to-cry- about-it” thing. So ten minutes before the meeting (with the nonessential PSY) a total crazy (in the stab-you-in-the face-tin-foil-hat-wearing crazy sort of way) woman freaks me out and makes me turn into a shaky emotional wreck. Awesome. So the meeting proceeded and i dont really acknowledge anyone there and my eyes leak anytime someone asks me a question or looks at me.  Of course my case manager is totally cute and the phsy and rehab person are of the good-looking suave type and im just frumpy, fat, blubbering me. I dont remember much of the meeting just the nodding and “looks-exchanging” of the other three. Today i got to work and i had an email from the cute case manager recommending i go to counseling. Awesome.

So now my rehab team thinks im crazy, my TL thinks im crazy and i yelled at my physiotherapist and then cried so im guessing she thinks im crazy too. This is why when im having a broken week i dont like to mingle with normal people.

Anyways im going to visit my favorite hooker discussing, best friend type person this weekend and am really looking forward to it. When i get back im going to attempt to convince the work type people im not insane and make them not give me the “understanding-sympathy-dont-upset-her” look anymore.I know i am broken, my friends know i am broken, these people – they dont need to know i am broken.

I also had a lovely message from someone ive chatted to a little in an indirect online manner. After thinking about it  I strongly suspect that everyone in the world is broken in some way shape or form. I think the reason we get broken is so that we know how to recognise when someone is and reach out a hand and maybe offer them some Crazy Glue.

So if anyone reads this if you need some Crazy Glue dont be afraid to ask and when someone offers you some dont be afraid to take it, if someone offers you Clag knock them the fuck out, they dont want to fix you, they just dont want to be the only one in the corner chewing on lumps of glue.

Its funny i wrote this and i meant it, i meant every damn word of it. Now i am not crying at everything, i am not curled up in a ball in my room.  You know what though i still want to end it. All i want is for all the people i care about to be happy for me to go. To drift close my eyes and just not exist anymore.

I know that people would be hurt if i did and i know that people care about me, i suspect at this stage i am just so damn numb that i cant feel it anymore. Its sort of like trying to tell a blind person what red looks like only its trying to tell myself that someone cares. I know they do but i cant feel it.  I have the means and the plan do i have the courage?  Why am i writing this here? What do i hope to gain? Do i really think the couple of people that give two tosses about me might stumble across it and tell me “by the way i saw your post on the internet and you know what, im totally cool with it, have at it”.

I dont know what to do, i wish for peace, i wish for blackness, i wish for limbo, for nothing, the sweet cold utopia of non-existence.