Anna’s Adventures

I can feel it coming on.

Every other moment is de ja vu and I can see the future. I know what you did today, I know what everyone did. In my sleep, I am dreaming that I am awake and having conversations. I never need to wake up again because it all happens in my sleep. I have all these memories of dream happenings that interfere with my memories of real happenings.

I am finding that to sleep, I need extra seroquel. But that makes me groggy the next day, and more prone to slip into reverie. Sunday night saw me squatting in bed for a few hours staring out of the window, excited by the diffuse lights, the rain and the howling wind. The city lights captivated me! I laid down but I could not sleep. Not until I took 2 extra seroquel… and that made me groggy the next day.

I have hidden this for so long: sometimes I can read your thoughts, your feelings and the future. Your history comes to me, intact and entire, in an instant. The future is always a little bit murky, a little bit obscure, hidden by a veil.

What did it?

Paranoia. I couldn’t sleep last night until I had take 3 extra eroquel (and now I am groggy and listless, a junkie on the nod in the office). Such beauty last night, the wind and the rain, the curtain a veil that whipped back and forth diffusing coloured city lights. Paranoia. Someone somewhere is thinking of me.

Knives in hand. Love tenderising my heart. Scoring open my chest and removing you from it. A little wooden miniature. A little misfitted metaphor.

Swallows. Sing, sing, sing! My heart looks out at the rain, feels the wind, caresses the stars. I swallow and don’t want to taste the soft vulnerability in my throat. Smells upset me.

Stalking. Walking, I feel like I could fly. Clicking my tongue, Je parle français just like that. In another thought, the entire language disappears from my head, and I’m left with evaporating raindrops from a dusty surface.

Don’t touch me. The only way I want to get into you is by stealth. Through the back door of consciousness, behind enemy lines. Without a passport, a midnight crossing over dangerous waters. If I die in the attempt, then it will be something. Good night, auf vietersehn, so long to you all. I am delirious, but I have a purpose. If I see you walking, watching, I will stride the opposite direction. When I hear your footfalls, I shall scream.

Teach me how to exit from this sublime and secret scene.

After a long chat / phone argument about why I am a bad cat mother, I needed space.

Space. I don’t wanna keep feeling like I owe you, Kate. I don’t wanna keep feeling like I am making it up to you, like I am forever running behind, and like I am a charity case that needs your ministry. Because you do collect needy girls. I may be a needy girl, but I’m too proud to be fussed over.

Space space space.

I’ve noticed that I slip into a cocoon of sleep when there is something I don’t want to deal with.

Its not good.

This polyoz email list should be called “Boring middle aged middle class cosmopolitan australians who legitimise their  patriarchal family structures by calling it polyamory instead of ‘cheating’”

Sorry mates, but all your families are 1 man with 2 women.

I know its wrong, but they actually help, aren’t a drug and heal very quickly.

Woohooo

Originally uploaded by Mr.Rocks

The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Yeah, cool man. But like, where the fuck is that step? Where the fucking hell does my foot point when I make that step? Who the fucking hell is Anna Aniston, anyway?

Well today, I feel like I’ve got some answers for you. For me. Yeah, coz really I am my own interlocutor. Maybe the reason I haven’t been blogging so much of late is that my psych meds have diminished the little Anna in my head: the “you” that I’m always talking to. What’s there to say, when there’s no-one to say it to? Instead tonight, I am writing to you, you, loyal reader whose name I shall not intone. You know who you are.

I am in pain. My RSI is killing me! My shoulders are hunching and tight. My new stripes are looking more and more like a cat scratch and like less of a problem.

The emotional pain of the last year feels as thought it has evaporated in the last apocalyptic fight between Kal and I. And now, everything is sweetness and light! I feel like a big weight has disappeared: the weight of jealousy, the weight of ownership and control, the weight of nit picky clinging and mutually destructive love.
Kate and I are looking toward plain sailing for a while… or that is the hope at any rate that the crises will subside and we’ll get a chance to just see how it all goes for a while.

Alcohol is no longer running in my blood. Far from being my favorite drink, I consume it rarely and in moderation. But when I do drink, it doesn’t send me straight to the maison manic. I can finally hold my booze. Kal reminds me of when a sip sent me into a manic frenzied drinking binge where I never felt a need to moderate. Never ever.

Can I say I love my mummy and my sissy? As always, but now more than ever. I see what it is they put up with and what it is they do for me all the times I cannot do for myself.

My meds are working! They are working! I’ve got my period, and with it, the most intense mood swing I’ve had in a few months… I feel a little bit sad and don’t know why. That’s all. A little bit sad and that is all. I feel like I finally lifted the couch cushion in my brain and found the remote control. Control! Life is wonderful. Truly.

I am shedding layers that are not important, and diving into a richer experience of life. I’ve shed some friends (alas) over trivial matters. But in exchange, I am spending time making art and plans for the future. I plan to exhibit soon, and to look into having kids in the next few years.

A future! It is mine.

Kal has again toyed with my heart. This time, taking a pocket knife to it.

Yesterday I met Kate’s family. Really, they were quite nice. In fact, I liked them! They treated me with a friendliness and respect that I’m happy to receive (even though I was feeling disaffected, discordant and distant).

We met over a garage sale of her grandma’s. Lovely old sets of china and ceramic. Collectors perfume bottles. Fantastic vinyl LPs - “An Accordian In Paris” among others!

I loved it, and hussled like a salesman on commission. I think I netted about $4!

I met the mum (lovely), the aunts (lovely), the cousin from Melbourne (lovely and interesting coz she makes clothes) and her gorgeous baby. I got a cuddle from baby, but it didn’t last long: she wanted to play with me, not cuddle with me. C’est la vie. I was happy that Gradma approved my job.

Despite all that good feeling, I still longed to be alone. Such a shame! I could’ve seen myself enjoying it more.