Daylight Day 31: S.A.D.
“Can you believe it’s my wedding month already?” trilled Mum. Dad and I exchanged a glance of woe. I caught myself and checked for sparkles.
Still not EMO. How can my hair be so green without falling out? Maybe I’ve become an anti-EMO. If only I could believe that.
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“S.A.D” is a genuine medical condition. It stands for “Seasonal Affective Disorder” and it happens to people who are (otherwise) mentally healthy. Basically it means that prolonged cloudy weather (eg in Forks) causes temporary mental illness. Affected people sleep more, eat more, and basically act as if they’re hibernating.
But. . . is it merely a seasonal disorder, or have they been bitten by an EMO?
It is far more prevalent in cloudy countries (Finland, etc) where the EMOs prefer to live. Coincidence? I think not.
Daylight Day 30: Tower Treasure Hunt #2
Finally a weekend! No more sightings of Mr Joh and the principal sharing a tissue box. No more in-class essays on HOW I FEEL. Just Ed. D’oh!
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Can you guess what suburb and street this is taken from (Ben, this is one of the ones you DIDN’T see me taking)?
Happy Pills
My happy pills seem to be kicking in (that, and the fact I have no serious work today). I still have a headache (it’s been about 48 hours now) but it’s fading, and I’ve spent the last two hours doing “real writing” (as opposed to “research” or “thinking” or reading). I’m doing a final read-through of “The Monster Apprentice” (first book in my children’s trilogy) before sending it to the publisher who’s currently deciding about “Stormhunter”. I like to think that sending them a second book will remind them I’m still waiting for the first. So it feels like I’m actually doing something.
And I decided to ask my husband to do my weekend chore today 🙂 That’s ALWAYS fun. He’s already done two loads of washing, and now he’s vacuuming. There’s nothing hotter.
Falling
I’m beginning to think having a breakdown is an annual event for me. As the weeks and days and hours pass, I can feel myself getting crazier. I’m less coordinated, more frightened, more angry, less rational – and I don’t know how long I’ll keep getting worse. More importantly, I don’t know where my personal rock bottom is. Or who I’ll take with me. I do know that I snap fast and violently when I snap.
I’ve just started taking my happy pills again, and I’m changing my contraceptive pill. Who knows? Maybe something will make things better.
My bedroom window, by a quirk of architecture, faces our nearest neighbour’s driveway. A young family lives there, and I see the mum a lot during the day, though I’ve never actually spoken to any of them. The other day I was lying down with the curtains and the window open. I clearly heard one of the children telling a visitor, “That lady lies down a lot.”
It’s true. I sleep a lot during the day (a classic mentally ill thing to do, but in my case I am fortunate to also sleep at night), and when I get overwhelmed – too overwhelmed to read, or listen to music, or watch TV – I lie in bed and look at the sky. Sometimes for hours.
The up side of my current mental breakdown is that not only can I see it coming (and prepare for it to a certain extent), but I know exactly what is causing it: waiting for a publisher to reply to a book (I already know they really like it – but that’s never yet been enough).
I watched “The Shawshank Redemption” last night. I disagree with the main character (and theme). In my opinion, hope is bad. It’s deadly poison to the powerless, and it’s killing me now.
It’s not the publisher’s fault – nor is it mine. I just hope I get a reply soon.
Daylight Day 29: Story so Far
2 Oct
EMO used to stand for ‘emotional’ – the teen subgroup that’s only happy to be sad. Now it’s become a disease eerily similar to vampirism.
*
My name’s Bell. I considered being EMO once, but then I saw a pretty butterfly and got over myself. Got bored and decided to save the world.
*
This is the documentary tale of the brave few fighting to find a cure for EMO (or, failing that, a quick and easy way to kill all those vampires dead).
3 Oct
In Civic, Ed kissed me and sighed. “Oh, Bell. Cloudy days are so deep.”
“Oh no!” I cried. “Ed, tell me you haven’t been bitten by an EMO!”
*
He didn’t laugh once at our preview of “Saw VI”. I yanked him into a rare patch of sun – and he sparkled. My boyfriend had turned EMO!
*
Finally he confessed: “My mum bit me.”
“Your MUM!?”
He sighed, “Sad, I know.”
“Do you want to drink my blood now?”
“Er. . . no,” he lied.
4 Oct
On the news: “The EMO subculture has now become a pandemic. EMO teens can be recognised by their depression, dark clothes, and bad poetry.”
*
I walked in the yard just as Mum set some weeds on fire. “Mum,” I said through the smoke, “Ed’s EMO.”
“That’s nice dear.”
*
My name’s pretty bad, but my brother is Pi. He’s ten and wears a labcoat. I told him, “Ed’s EMO.”
“Hm. Can I do experiments on him?”
“NO!”
5 Oct
“Ed, it’s the holidays. Don’t you feel a LITTLE happy?”
“No,” he said. “Bell, would it be okay if I drank you – just a little?”
“NO!”
*
“Exodermal Melanin Occlusion is spreading fast,” the news said. “Symptoms now include sparkling in sunshine, darkening hair, and whining.”
*
Ed tried to bite me, and I tripped over another EMO as I dodged him. Bruised my knees. Still not EMO, despite my black hair and long fringe.
6 Oct
Still not EMO, despite drenching rain. All the EMOs are thrilled they’re not sparkling today (Ed almost smiled). Bring back the sun!
*
“Cheer up,” said Mum, “I’ve decided to have a wedding.”
“But. . . you’re married.”
“Don’t spoil it. It’s exactly what all those EMOs need.”
7 Oct
I was dying my hair when Ed called. “Want to play EMO baseball with my family?”
“No.”
He cried until I hung up.
My hair turned green. Oops.
8 Oct
Pi asked me for Ed’s old hairbrush, so I humoured him and brought it. He said, “Bell, I think there might be a cure for EMOs!”
*
Still not EMO, although Ed keeps trying to bite me. Awkward!
9 Oct
Mum said, “Don’t you just love weddings?”
“Does Dad even know?”
“Hush,” said Mum.
Our shopgirl wept quietly as she pinned Mum’s dress.
10 Oct
“Do you think a wedding could cure EMOs?” I asked.
Pi snorted and said, “Has Ed bitten you at all?”
“No, we just make out.”
Pi looked ill.
11 Oct
I saw Dad writing a journal and looking mournful. Uh-oh. Still not EMO myself, despite blood-starved boyfriend and lime green hair.
*
“Don’t let ANYONE drink your blood,” said the news. “Authorities recommend hitting EMOs with cricket bats. Stay alert, not alarmed.”
12 Oct
Ed wore an overcoat and hat to school. Our teachers freaked and put him in detention. I think he bit Mr Joh, the science teacher. Awkward!
*
Ed and I wandered the mall and saw heaps of decorations. Ed sighed, “Christmas is so deep. It makes me feel all –”
“Sad?”
“How’d you know?”
13 Oct
Mr Joh burst into tears while telling us about the reproductive cycle of fruit flies. Ed gave him tissues. This EMO pandemic is so wrong.
14 Oct
Maths class was full of sighs and weeping. (Life hasn’t changed much.) I was put on detention for being insensitive about life’s deep pain.
*
The principal ran detention. He looked thirsty. I shrank in my seat. “Tomorrow,” he told me, “come to my office. Bring your school spirit.”
15 Oct
I brought my school spirit and a cricket bat. The principal grabbed my arm but I whacked him and dived under his desk until the bell rang.
*
Still not EMO, despite listening to principal discuss philosophy for the entire lunch hour. Thank you, cricket bat, thank you.
16 Oct
Ed took me to a graveyard for a date. It was crowded. He licked me on the neck, and I kneed him in the groin. “Don’t you love me?” he wept.
*
Still not EMO, despite kneeing EMO boyfriend in the groin. Actually, that was pretty fun.
17 Oct
I said to Pi, “You know how you wanted to experiment on Ed? Go for it.”
“Thank you thank you!”
It was great to see his childish joy.
18 Oct
Ed called and said, “My Mum wants to know how you got that lovely green in your hair.”
“Well, I –”
“Oh, what’s the point?!” he cried.
*
Pi and I snuck over, gagged Ed, and dragged him home. He sparkled all the way. We locked him in the spare room with a saucer of rat’s blood.
Still not EMO, despite Ed’s slurping of his rat blood. He always was a messy eater. Now he stinks too (he owns only one all-black outfit).
19 Oct
Still not EMO, despite Dad cornering me in the laundry to lecture me on the meaninglessness of his existence. Hope we find a cure.
20 Oct
Caught Pi measuring Ed’s fringe. “When do you start experimenting on him?” I asked.
He said, “Soon. I’m gathering data.”
Still not EMO.
*
Pi said, “Should we ungag Ed? Mum and Dad are fine with him being here.”
“No,” I said, “If we did that, he might start talking again.”
21 Oct
Is being obsessed with Ed’s hair a symptom of EMO? Pi was measured it AGAIN. I wish he’d go into the sunshine so I could see if he sparkles.
22 Oct
“Eureka!” Pi yelled from the EMO room. I ran in. Pi brandished his clipboard. “EMO makes your fringe grow!”
“How is that useful exactly?”
*
Still not EMO, even though my boyfriend has better hair than me. On the up side, Pi stood in sunlight for me – no sparkles. Unlike Dad.
23 Oct
“Oh,” Dad sighed, “weddings always make me cry.”
“No they don’t! You always laugh at the priest wearing a dress. Won’t that be fun?”
“No.”
24 Oct
I felt mean and gave Ed his ipod and speaker. He played “Bleeding Love” for twelve hours. Still not EMO, though after that I do want to cry.
25 Oct
Ed’s Mum rang. I said, “Erm. . . Did you want Ed back?”
She sighed and said, “I don’t deserve him. You keep him.”
“Thanks. Thanks SO much.”
26 Oct
Came home from school to find Pi wrestling Ed. They broke apart and looked at me guiltily. “Ed! No biting!” I said.
“Who me?” he said.
*
Dobbed on Pi, but Mum wasn’t concerned. “Healthy exercise is just what EMOs need. What do you think about a red colour scheme?”
“Mu-um!”
27 Oct
Found Ed pinned helplessly under Pi’s ten-year old foot. “This gets easier by the day!” said Pi.
I said, “We already KNEW EMOs were weak.”
Still not EMO, despite my boyfriend getting regularly beaten up by my nerdy little brother. Dad said red is a very emotional colour. Great.
28 Oct
Mr Joh said life is a meaningless series of unconnected events, so there’s no point studying. Finally this pandemic has an up side!
29 Oct
Pi enjoyed demonstrating his ability to restrain Ed with a single finger.
Mum and Dad’s wedding is set for thirty November.
Still not EMO.
30 October
Mum said, “Be my bridesmaid.”
“Sure – but won’t it be hard to keep your guests from biting one another – enclosed spaces, and all that?”
Daylight Day 28: Tower Treasure Hunt #1
Pi enjoyed demonstrating his ability to restrain Ed with a single finger.
Mum and Dad’s wedding is set for thirty November.
Still not EMO.
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Today the twittertales blog begins a whole new category: the tower treasure hunt.
The rules are simple: I put up a picture I’ve taken of Telstra Tower (one of Canberra’s coolest landmarks, standing 195m high on top of Black Mountain) from a major thoroughfare, and you guys try to guess the suburb and road it was taken from. Then I give the owner of the first correct answer some candy (possibly through the mail).
Daylight Day 27: Some sky
Mr Joh said life is a meaningless series of unconnected events, so there’s no point studying. Finally this pandemic has an up side!
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Rather than describing today’s pretty sky, here’s a picture. It says a lot about Canberra that this is taken from (just) within the city – a street parallel to one belonging to a friend of mine.
Daylight Day 26: Cheer up emo kid
Found Ed pinned helplessly under Pi’s ten-year old foot. “This gets easier by the day!” said Pi.
I said, “We already KNEW EMOs were weak.”
Still not EMO, despite my boyfriend getting regularly beaten up by my nerdy little brother. Dad said red is a very emotional colour. Great.
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Here is a cute picture to help fight the EMO menace within our hearts. (Please send inspiring/funny “cheer up emo kid” submissions to fellissimo[at]hotmail[dot]com.)
Bonza Bonsai
Here is a tree.
It is seven inches tall. It is our first Christmas tree, and I love it.
It cost $9.48 at Bunnings.
It will eventually grow to 60cm, by which time I might perhaps purchase a larger tree. By then I will probably have children, and Christmas will be a difference experience to the experience it is now (which is mainly, “Arg! My budget! Aaaaaaarrrrg!” Actually, maybe Christmas then will be EXACTLY the same as now).
But right now – and for many years to come – it is perfect.
If you’re all very good, I might take another picture when it’s decorated – but that won’t be until December (I bought it now because conifers increase rapidly in price in November and December).
It’s not actually a bonsai. I don’t want to encourage my habit of obsessive concern with tiny things.
Hey look! That’s me in reflection.
I have owned this tree for three days, and it is not dead.
Also, the cats have not eaten it.
This is a good start.
Daylight Day 25: Awkward!
Came home from school to find Pi wrestling Ed. They broke apart and looked at me guiltily. “Ed! No biting!” I said.
“Who me?” he said.
Dobbed on Pi, but Mum wasn’t concerned. “Healthy exercise is just what EMOs need. What do you think about a red colour scheme?”
“Mu-um!”
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Before I begin – hello to Lachlan, Markus, Scarlet, James, and all the other people who “volunteered” for my writing workshop at their school today. I had a great time.
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Don’t you hate it when your boyfriend is always trying to suck your blood? I know I do. . .
Today is “share your awkward moment” day (Ben, you KNOW I’m looking at you). I’ll start by cutting and pasting a blog entry from https://felicitybloomfield.wordpress.com (my other blog):
Yesterday I went to our mechanic to arrange a time for my partner’s car to FINALLY get fixed (it’s been a saga going on for months – every time we take it in for one thing, they find another thing wrong). It’s a service station where I often get petrol, so people know me and both our cars very well – they’ll actually ask how one car or another is running when I buy petrol.
The main mechanic was serving someone when I arrived, so another one wrote down the appointment for me. “And what type of car is it?” he said.
And I froze. Just couldn’t remember. Was it a Mazda – or was that mine? What on earth was MY car (other than off-white. . .)?
“It’s a mazda wagon,” I said at last. “At least, I THINK it’s a mazda. Definitely a wagon. . . definitely. . .”
I wandered off with, as always, images of praire settler wagons in my head. Does anyone else think it’s wrong to call a car a wagon?
Anyway. . .
That wasn’t as bad as when I foolishly went shopping with my husband in an unfamiliar shopping centre. We only had a few things to buy – bread, milk, fruit, maybe a can of tuna or something. So we walked along the aisles together, looking at the signs so we knew where to go. I spotted a whole aisle for alcohol (unusual, since alcohol normally gets its own little section in a corner somewhere) and said, “Mmmm. . . . booooooze.”
My partner didn’t say anything, but what can one say to that? So I just kept walking, chatting away happily. He still didn’t reply, so I stopped and turned around to ask him a question.
Naturally, my husband had wandered off long ago and was nowhere to be seen. Instead, I faced a security guard wearing that, “Yes, I AM watching you” face.
At which point I stopped talking and went to find my straying husband.
Me? Crazy? My friend Bobby the Invisible Bear says I’m just fine.
Felicity Banks 