Yum

Autumn is here, winter on the way. The dark mornings and evenings, the cold, the wet, all the SAD triggers. But there is a bright side. Two silver linings on this cloud.

Boots. Preferably black leather.

Tights. Preferably black and patterned.

These obviously work best with a skirt, and the shorter the better, but just a hint of knee or shin is enough to set my imagination blazing. I feel warm inside, an Indian summer of lust.

Yum.


P.S. Google ranked number 3 for grumpet now!

Narcissism and the Grumpet

Narcissism – I have succumbed. I now have a stats counter on the blog. I'm glad I waited this long, as the stats are hardly impressive, but at least they aren't non-existent.

Grumpet – the stats give me the ability to do such exciting things as look up referrers or the search queries that people used to find the site. It appears that a post that I made back in July about being a grumpet has put me 4th on the list of Google results for 'grumpet'. There is something surreal about being ranked so high for a single word. Obviously, there are some searches that will return one of my sites as the top ranked site, but they are (even) more esoteric than 'grumpet'.

What it will take to move up the ranks, I do not know, but it will be interesting finding out.

Cut Part Two

Saturday was Day 30 since reducing dose. The morning after the Friday night before.

I hadn't slept particularly well and I woke up first. I kept my arm hidden while my mind raced. What should I say to H?

It was some time until she woke up, and when she did it wasn't long until we had both apologised to each other. We talked for a while and I said that I felt that I needed to go back to the doctor soon after our break away. She agreed. I also said that I thought I may need more counselling. She also agreed, suggesting that it may help while I'm 'weaning'. I half agreed – I suspect my GP may suggest that I go back up to 40mg per day.

Everything seemed calm.

'There is something I need to show you. Something that I cannot hide and I don't want you to see by accident. You don't have to react, you don't have to understand, just don't be angry or upset.'

Nerve-racking. For me to say and for her to here.

I showed her my arm.

H took it pretty well. She was obviously shaken and upset but didn't overreact or dramatise.

So, I have been wearing long sleeves ever since. Every now and then H asks to look and I prepare for a visit to the doctor.

Cut Part One

Friday was Day 29 since reducing dose. The last couple of weeks have been harder. The withdrawal seems to have abated, so my fear is this is the underlying illness surfacing. Friday night was a climax, a breaking point, a crisis.

We spent a long weekend visiting H's sister and her husband. We have a laugh, catch-up, drink too much, dance a bit. All was reasonably ok until my head just wanted to stop. It was about 2230, perhaps 2300, and having been dancing in the living room I went off to the kitchen. I poured away the contents of my umpteenth glass of wine and started to make a cup of tea. In the other room the laughter, music and dancing continued. I wanted it all to stop, to go away.

As the kettle boiled so did my emotions. I was unhappy, impatient, intolerant and angry. H came in and we exchanged words. I cannot remember what exactly. I know I said that what was going on in the other room just wasn't what I wanted to be doing. She was drunk too, and told me this was her escape and asked why I had to spoil it?

I snapped back – 'I cannot escape from this' jabbing my forehead with my finger. She cried and I could do nothing but watch her return to the other room.

I went upstairs, sat on the bed, saw my penknife. I cut. Slash upon slash on my arm, inner and outer. Deep enough to bleed, shallow enough not to scar. The pain was a warm glow. I did not cry. I turned off the light and fell into a drunken sleep.

Hurting

Hurting
Originally uploaded by j8g.

The last few weeks have been a slow descent into pain. Currently away visiting family, so my return home will see a return to the doctor.