Phoenix Fights

Fighting the FEAR, depression and BDP on a daily basis AND making my own bread. Bring it on 2016….


4 Comments

PITY PARTY TRACK 23 – RUN AWAY – SALSOUL ORCHESTRA FEAT. LOLEATTA HOLLOWAY

I swear this has to be the most upbeat ‘Pity Party song’ EVER…

I mean it should be in ‘Optimistic Mix’ or even ‘Ear Worm’ as I can’t get it out of my head.

So, I came by this blast from the past after watching ‘The Paperboy’ movie on TV, then looking up the awesome soundtrack online, then went on a bit of a disco binge, and it all came flooding back to me.

The disco era, the late ’70’s when I had just started going to clubs, when I’d just discovered my womanly wiles, could just about afford make up and was too uninformed and afraid to know how mentally fucked up I really was.

When I was poor and stuck at home.  When I was all buck teeth and National Health glasses.  When I was borderline bulimic and didn’t even know what that meant.  When all in the world I wanted was a boyfriend and feared that no one in the world would ever love me.

When, unbeknownst to me, I had the whole world at my fucking feet.

That, my friends was nearly 40 years ago, and now the future is so very bleak, I honestly wish I could run away.

Now I’m stuck in this flat.  I’ve got marginally smaller, yellowing teeth and reading glasses.  My eating habits have gone wildly dysfunctional again (pathetic, I know).  I have no partner and am now pretty 100% sure that no one will ever love me again.

I am so stuck, and there’s no way back and no way forward.

God let me go back.  Give me another chance.  I swear I’d get it right this time.

Let me do a ‘Peggy Sue Got Married’ and wake up in the morning in my svelte, 17 year old body and give me the chance to steer clear of all of the mistakes i ever made?

As fucking if.

Namaste x

Advertisements


3 Comments

PITY PARTY TRACK 21 – BREATHE ME – SIA

I’ve always been a bit obsessed with Six Feet Under.

I own the boxed set and have just finished watching all five series (seasons) for about the third time, and the finale always stays with me for days, hence this song stuck in my head on repeat.

Because I’m also obsessed with death, plus I totally and utterly envy the fictitious, feckless, fucked up Fishers.

Because despite their disputes, down times and dysfunctional behaviour, they are a proper family.

They fuck up time after time, they fall out, make up, make the most appalling choices for themselves, are promiscuous to a man/woman, but they are family.  That creepy house come funeral home with its coach house, dated decor, antiquated kitchen always has room for everybody, with a constant influx of the living and dead alike, and they all ebb and flow like the ocean that features so significantly in the dream sequences, so that it’s almost like a living, breathing entity.

Plus they all seem to have plenty of time to hang around smoking pot without ever getting busted.

Not to mention Ruth’s crazy, pill popping sister Sarah has an amazing flower power domicile somewhere out in the sticks, and has a constant stream of hippy friends popping in to dance around the bonfire naked.

And when I saw all the women standing around the body of Fiona their fallen sister singing ‘Calling All Angels’, I, like Ruth longed for that kind of intimacy on a permanent basis.

Who lives like this?  Can I live like this?  Where is this fucking place anyway?

Because what is left of my family is strewn across the UK.  And my friends are either estranged or busy with their hectic 9-5 (or rather 8-8) existence, and I am lonely.

Wrap me up.

Today I walked to town and back.

So what, you might ask?

Well I did my 10,000 steps and its the first real bit of exercise I’ve done this year.

The Fishers made me do that.  Well watching Nate (the bastard) collapse after shagging that awful Maggie and wake up with stroke symptoms, and then die, might have spurred me on a bit. 🙂

And I know for a fact that I’m not going to find my very own utopia sat at home on the couch with the cats living vicariously through the Fishers.

So tomorrow, I’ll take a deep breath, and do it again.

And try not to lose myself again.

Namaste x


7 Comments

PITY PARTY TRACK 20 – TRAPPED – COLONEL ABRAMS

Yes it’s Pity Party time again, so swig down your vodka and orange (squash), put down your cheese straws and hit the dance floor as I’m just lining up the 12″ version of Colonel Abram’s ‘Trapped’ so you can get down with yo bad self 80’s style.

I can get even more down on mine.

😦

Apols for my absence of late, but I so wanted to have good news for you for my next post, but sadly things have not gone according to plan.

Re my three pronged approach (see Safe as Houses) I’ve done two out of three (which Meatloaf will concur, ain’t bad), but am shit scared to do the latter.

Mainly because my property has been on the market for two weeks now, and I’ve only had one person over to view it.

ONE.

So I can’t even say to my lenders that there’s lots of interest and that I should be out before Christmas and pay you off in full, so right now I am nigh on nostalgic for the days when my biggest worry was which club to go to, and whether my flat mate would ‘borrow’ my favourite tarty, scrunchy body con dress before I got home from work.

1400702716whitney_h_24

Hell, I’m nostalgic for that pitiful fear I had but two weeks ago at the mere thought of selling this place.  Little did I know that the market is practically moribund due to (according to the estate agent) concern of how the election might affect interest rates and the imminent arrival of Christmas.

Didn’t tell me that when I listed with them, did he, fucking slimy, bloodsucking twat?

Then I was terrified that I wouldn’t make enough to finance my new life elsewhere.  Now I’m shitting bricks and having nightmares about being repossessed, ending up on the streets, and/or having bailiffs take my car.

And before anyone suggests it, I can’t rent it out because I wouldn’t make any profit and I wouldn’t get my rent paid by the government because I’m be a property owner.  And no, I couldn’t stay with friends because now it’s critical, everyone’s has gone very quiet and seem to have forgotten their casual ‘Oh you can always come and stay with us’, because, let’s be honest, they never thought it would come to this otherwise they’d have kept their gobs shut.

As for my family, they never made that offer in the first place (no hypocrite they), and are now very much ‘Oh everyone’s in the same boat’ when I showed them the white of my eyes out of sheer desperation.

Well we’re not actually.  We’re not even in the same fucking river!  No one is going to make you homeless you bastards.

The only good thing about this situation is that you find out who your real friends are.

Trouble is, I don’t appear to have any, so I am trapped, and totally powerless and at the mercy of besuited bankers whom I will have to come clean to, and hope that they give me six months or so to shift this pile and get the hell outta Dodge.

On the plus (?) side, I’ve started Schema Therapy!

Oh boy, now that’s another story.

Stay tuned for another exciting episode of ‘The Fall and Fall of a Failing, Flailing, Fucked Up 50 Something’…..

Namas-frigging-te x

https://sistasertraline.wordpress.com/2014/09/06/safe-as-houses/


8 Comments

PITY PARTY TRACK 19 – DESOLATION ROW – MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE

You can push a person too far, and right now I’m at the end of a very long, frayed rope….

Yesterday, after months of saint like patience and extraordinary self control, I finally snapped tore one the Perkies a new arsehole (in the manner of Rorschach after a particularly trying day) when, on receipt of my desperate plea for timings and information re my schema therapy treatment, she let it slip that the start date had been moved AGAIN, (4 times to date) and my formal written diagnosis of my condition would not be sent out until everyone involved had completed their questionnaire sessions.

‘How do their answers have any bearing on your analysing and sending out mine?’ I asked in reasonable, if slightly strangled tones, moments before I flipped.

‘Well..um…I’m not sure, but I’m calling you back just to say…well…you know…we understand it must be soooo stressful…’

‘Actually I don’t think you do.  Because I’ve almost ran out of money and may not be in situ by the time you, sorry, they get their arse in gear and finalise a date.’ ‘Oh no’ she replied in those oh so familiar sickly sweet tones, ‘that must be sooo awful….’

Watchmen-Movie-the-watchmen-1989049-1800-751

BOOM.

‘You know what?  I don’t think you’re getting it.  I’ve had to put my flat on the market, I’m down to my last grand, I’ve just had 2 bills that will amount to, oh say around £10K that need paying this year, and I don’t have a fucking job!’

‘Right.  Oh.  I’m so sorry to….’

‘Sorry but I don’t want to hear it.  I don’t want your standardised scripted call back that you make “so they feel acknowledged and listened to” because it’s bullshit.  It’s like you’ve recorded the same droning faux sympathetic message and play it down the receiver to all of us, and it’s just not good enough.  This is beyond a joke.  I’ve been waiting nearly a year for treatment since his nibs charmingly informing me that I was BPD and I’ve had to deal with the fall out of that all on my own (sorry Aunty C) whilst you lot diddle around, putting us through hours and hours of the same stupid fucking questions, intermittently treating us to your best ‘oh dear’ faces in lieu of real empathy, and move the goal posts again, again and again….’

‘Oh, well I….’

‘….and in the meantime we all sit in limbo, either hanging onto our place in society for grim death or mouldering away at home waiting for SOME TANGIBLE SUPPORT….’

‘…yes, I….’

‘..so the very LEAST you owe me is a formal written diagnosis so that at the very likely chance that I’ll be somewhere else by the time you get your act together I’ll have something to present to a medical professional in a new borough, where hopefully they might take it and DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!!’

‘I’m so sorry but…’

‘Look I know it’s not you, but for God’s sake if you don’t know when it’s going to happen, be HONEST because every time you move the dates, I promise you, it’s like a kick to the stomach to someone like me, and y’know what?  Not everyone is as outspoken as me, and let’s face it, the last thing you want is a suicide on your hands?  Just saying!’

I don’t remember who hung up, but I do know that afterwards my hands were trembling with rage, but felt curiously released and revitalised. Aunty C (my counsellor) laughed when I told her.

‘Good for you!  It’s great to that passion back! You are better off not relying on them, move forward, don’t hang around for them or you’ll be there forever!’

That was yesterday.

Today brought me back down to earth with a thunk.

Another service bill because they ‘under estimated’ last year’s. This is like some kind of conspiracy. How am I going to sell this place and afford somewhere near my friends now? I don’t know whether to explode again or sink into a sludgy puddle of lethargic, defeatist despair.

3227034-2103224255-dr-ma

I swear if I counted Dr Manhattan amongst my close friends, i would happily volunteer to be ‘ink blotted’ right now, then I wouldn’t have to deal with all this shit anymore.

I wouldn’t even notice his fine physique, Billy C jawline or his huge blue willy wafting gently in night air.

Nope. Just splat me dude, then fuck off back to tinkering around on Mars, ta muchly.

tumblr_lvusz5rtgf1qbgx0w

I honestly don’t know what’s going to come down on me next, but at this rate, I’ll be homeless.  I guess that’s when I’ll find out who my real friends are.

Look out for me sweeping up on my very own desolation row. I’ll be the one that ends up running riot with that broom in the direction of my local mental health facility.

Pray for me.

Namaste x

https://sistasertraline.wordpress.com/2014/04/29/holy-moses/


7 Comments

PITY PARTY TRACK 18 – SILENCE – DELIRIUM feat. Sarah Maclachlan

Don’t have much to say as the lyrics say it all.  Except I hear ‘whirlwind’ not white wave?

Very telling, hey? 😉

Enjoy x

‘Give me release, witness me
I am outside, give me peace

Heaven holds a sense of wonder, and I wanted to believe
That I’d get caught up when the rage in me subsides

Passion chokes the flower, till she cries no more
Possessing all the beauty, hungry still for more

Heaven holds a sense of wonder, and I wanted to believe
That I’d get caught up when the rage in me subsides

In this white wave I am sinking, in this silence
In this white wave, in this silence, I believe

I have seen you in this white wave you are silent
You are breathing, in this white wave I am free

I can’t help this longing comfort me
I can’t hold it all in, if you won’t let me

Heaven holds a sense of wonder, and I wanted to believe
That I’d get caught up when the rage in me subsides

In this white wave I am sinking, in this silence
In this white wave, In this silence, I believe

I have seen you in this white wave you are silent
You are breathing, in this white wave I am free’

Read more: Delerium – Silence Lyrics | MetroLyrics

25 DAYS OF SONGS CHALLENGE: DAY 6 – A SONG THAT REMINDS ME OF A BEST FRIEND

10 Comments

I’m going to cheat a little here.

I want two songs.

But at least they are by the same artist, the wonderful, uniquely voiced Lloyd Cole.

And just to be extra awkward I’d like to state that I don’t really have a best friend anymore. Anyone I’ve given that description to in the past has invariably struck out at me (well in my little HSP BDP mind they have), and I don’t really trust any of them much anymore.

Hence the first song ‘Rattlesnakes’.  As in:

‘A girl needs a gun these days
Hey on account of all the rattlesnakes’

And whilst I don’t look like Eve Marie Saint in On The Waterfront (I wish), I agree on the therapy bit and that I need love.  Unfortunately ‘It’s so hard to love, when love was your great disappointment.’

I do love my friends though.  In my way.  And I’m aware that much of this could well be my imagination.

But I’d so love ‘A Brand New Friend’ that I could trust with my heart.  Maybe that has to be me.  So I’ve been told.

I know; boo hoo, hoo, crack open the gin, it’s yet another Sista S Pity Party!

Great songs though, so suck it up bitches and pass the frigging twiglets! 😉

Namaste x

http://www.lyricsfreak.com/l/lloyd+cole/rattlesnakes_20084753.html

http://songmeanings.com/songs/view/3530822107858683932/

200740_698985645152_15105094_36198685_3891468_n

PITY PARTY TRACK 17 – Alfie – CILLA BLACK

10 Comments

I’m feeling pretty sorry for myself tonight, and it’s ages since I did a Pity Party number, so here’s a bit of Cilla for you, singing the wonderful Burt Bacharach’s beautifully poignant ‘Alfie’

What’s it all about? 50 odd years on I’m none the wiser, let’s hope you are and you have enough love in your life to sustain you through the dark days and lonely nights x

http://www.lyricsfreak.com/b/burt+bacharach/alfie_20025979.html