FirstPost x 2

Today, while freaking out in my psychologist's bathroom, I had a few moments to think. Thinking, or rather being able to concentrait long enough to have a reasonable thought chain, is something I've been struggling to do for quite a while, so I was quite odded out when I was able to suddenly WORDS in my head. And the result was the following: a complete rethinking of my blog. And whie that doesn't really sound like much, even thinking about the possibility of doing what I'd like to do excited me somewhat (once again not something that happens very often). I give to you . . .

Abnormal, But Dealing With Shit
The (almost) daily journal of a 16 year old recluse trying to get back on the rails

My name is Heather Vickers. I'm 16 years old and am dealing with a lot of stuff that has basically left me unable to leave the house without, to put it simply, freaking right out. This has left me in the awkward position of being unable to complete my schooling at the moment, visit my friends or even walk my dog down the street. There are a few places I'm comfortable in, namely my house, one of my friend's houses (love you Kittum), and on occasion my aunt's house. Aside from those three places, I can't operate anywhere successfully. By definition I'm a recluse. I dont like that. On Tuesday of this week, after suddenly becoming the most depressed I ever had, I tried to choke myself to death. Luckily I'd called my mum earlier because I knew something was wrong when my mood suddenly dropped so rapidly, so she was able to come rescue me. We spent a fair amount of time in the hospital psych ward, which wasn't at all fun (those seats could not be any less comfortable to boot). I didn't have fun, and I really am sick of this whole thing.

This blog will is basically going to serve as my journal for my daily attempts at getting back to normal life,
because recluse-ism isn't in any way good. I dont want to end up in a crazy ward yet again. This is my journey (CHEEEEEESE).


Ta daaaaaaa~
Of course I'lll still be making my normal blog posts ('cos srsface, David Bowie), but I'm going to be primarily using this blog to help myself reason through my crazies and try to get back to being able to interact with something other than my pillow.

D-D-Dance Magic Dance!

Ya'll know him. Ya'll dance to his tunes. Ya'll know the goddamn sexgod*. Ya'll know David Bowie.
*Speaking in the context of 25 or so years ago when his penis still worked. Damn.

In the last few days I've developed a rather large Bowie Boner. That is, a Boner for some Bowie. I'm sure you're all familiar with this, so I will not go into further anatomical explaination as to how this is possible, what with that vagina going on and all.
But yeah, David Bowie 'sploshun. This all came about through Kitty and I watching us some Labyrinth. FUCK YES LABYRINTH. Ever since then, I swear I have not had any other song than Magic Dance run through my head.

So yeah, not all bad in the last few days.

Cant really think of anything else to post, so here's a character profile. Will put a Stephanie post up later.

Name: Christophe Dales

Age: 26

Occupation: Personal doctor

Residence: Live-in doctor at Macrombie’s Home for the Mentally Wrong

Patient: Stephanie Dowers

History: Christophe had always wanted to be a seeing-eye dog trainer. But when he met Miss Stephanie Dowers at age 16, he decided that it was to be his job to be her constant companion and personal doctor. He studied vigorously to make sure he got the grades that he needed to be able to become her carer, but always made time for the young girl, who had come to rely on her older friend. His parents deeply disapproved his relationship with Stephanie, which remained completely innocent, though did deepen to a near over-obsessive friendship. His parents were unable to understand his relationship with Stephanie and regularly abused him for having such a younger friend. Eventually he moved out of the house, unable to deal with his parent’s daily abuse anymore. He moved into a two room apartment with a classmate from the Uni he was attending. He talked almost continuously with Stephanie, either by text, phone or email and hardly slept due to his need to be in contact with her. He passed his courses with flying colours, but on the day of graduation, the one day that he was unable to be in contact with Stephanie, she had an ‘accident’. Soon after she was moved to Macrombie’s Home for the Mentally Wrong, where she was unable to talk to Christophe at all, which rapidly worsened her mental condition. Stephanie’s distraught parents begged him to apply at Macrombie’s, as she had become a danger to herself and the public and wasn’t permitted visitors. Christophe applied for the position of her personal doctor and carer, and was gladly accepted by the staff who were baffled by the girl’s behaviour. At 26 years old, Christophe became Stephanie’s permanent personal doctor and companion. The two were soon reunited much to each other’s joy, but due to the time they spent separated her mental condition was nowhere near the state it had once been. The two now reside together within the walls of Macrombie’s Home for the Mentally Wrong, Stephanie under Christophe’s careful and loving watch.

Points to whoever gets where Mentally Wrong is from

Nrrrrr

Been a fairly large dry spell in my postings lately (y'know, since April), which is where abouts I started to go crazy. Not crazy in the fun-booze-run sense, either, crazy in the cant-leave-the-goddamn-house way.
No, srsface. I haven't left the house since I went to Kitty's place last (three days short of a month ago), excluding a few non-voulinary trips to my aunts' places in which I felt horribly sick and insecure.

Not being able to really talk to people really took it's toll. Basically, I ended up doing some stupid things because I'm an idiot. I dont talk to people much anymore and find it hard to engage in any conversation, and my family are having a hard time of this. Hell, not to mention my friends I've been neglecting :/

So yeah. Block of crazy is continuing.
A few of the doctors I've been seeing have told me that trying my hardest to interect with people might help me get over my 'nurrr people nurrr' thing (not in those words, but pretty damn close. My psychologist is awesome), so here I am, back to blogger. Nothing much really interesting has been going on, so I'll just be ramblin', and maybe making up some marvelous adventures that I will no doubt be a-havin' one I'm over my bought of mental.

HOORAH