Pain

Despite the title of this blog, I haven’t actually written much about pain. Possibly because I try not to think  about it. Sometimes though I just can’t help but vent. A blog is as good a place as any.

So, pain.
Physical, mind fucking pain.
Constant pain.
For years.
That doesn’t stop.
That won’t stop.
EVER.

A short Sappho fragment has been translated as “pain drips”. She was most likely talking about emotional pain, but it is relevant. It is one of my favorite descriptions of pain. The slow, constant, endless, drip drip drip…

Slack

I have been rather remiss in my blogging recently.
My plan was to just journal blog rather than think too much about what I am posting, in order to just get on with it!!!
I’m getting there.
Anyway, my health is slowly improving now I am back on the right drugs. I am managing to actually leave the apartment more often and last weekend I went completely out of my comfort zone (with a little help from a friend) and attended the Sydney Writer’s Festival. It was a fabulous day, and it was an achievement!!!
A few days rest, a successful trip to Newcastle to see my Dr and now I have a few weeks of no plans.
I’m very tempted just to hide in the apartment and read, but I need challenges, whether they be intellectual, physical, psychological, or a combination of all three!!!
I need a goal to work towards.
I want to go back to studying next semester.
For a start, I need the extra money the government gives me if I am enrolled. But also, it is something to do, I can set myself small goals each day to get the reading done. It anchors me. It also gets me out of the aparment, and even out of Gosford once a week. It takes incentive!!

Back to the present. As you know from my previous posts, I have quite a bit to say about same-sex marriage, and it is all over the news and for various reasons it is making me rather cranky. If you haven’t read my blog, please know that I am coming from a queer perspective!!! I AM A BIG DYKE!!!! So, to clear my head and in an effort to relax and have more pleasant thoughts, I walked down to the water, went to a café at my sailing club called “Tommy’s” and drank the most delicious soy mocha I have ever tasted and enjoyed the view.

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What even is this blog??

This blog started out as a rant, a rant from a sick person in pain about all the stupid shit around her in the media and our culture. Then it went on a bit of a Marxist tangent, and then took a turn towards a bit of a queer politics.

It has been a while since I have written because I have been ill. Diagnosed with Adrenal Insufficiency (from now on known on this blog as AI) and trying to get my medication levels sorted has been a bit of nightmare. Part of said nightmare has been extreme anxiety (a symptom of AI), leaving me unable to even think about writing without having a panic attack. 3 weeks after upping my SSRI’s and I am feeling a bit better. However, I am having to force myself to write this post. I want to write, I need to keep writing, I don’t want to lose it as a skill, I want to improve, and the only way to do so, is to KEEP WRITING!!!

However, at this point I don’t really have much to say other than #worldisfukt. It is fucked up in so many many ways and it just seems as though it will never be unfucked.  We like to kid ourselves though, we ignore the stats, we ignore what is right in front of us, we ignore the suffering we see because it is just too fucking much to deal with and we have no easy solutions. We pick the easy fights. By we, I mean the privileged middle class feminists who spend their time fighting for diversity on the catwalk, women on boards, same-sex marriage or one of the many number of pet projects that don’t really make a difference. Okay, so they aren’t me, not anymore, but they are my peers. We are distracted by the representation of equality, rather than addressing the fact that the system is fundamentally fucked. We are ignoring the fact that even the very notion of equality under a capitalist system is a fucking joke, and that we need to try to think beyond the ideology, beyond this all pervasive idea that capitalism is the natural order. It isn’t, it is a creation, and we must think beyond it if we are to have any hope at all of living in a world in which people are not enslaved, are not dying of curable diseases, are not literally starving to death.

Okay, that got a bit serious, it isn’t what this blog post was supposed to be about. It is supposed to be about me!!! so rant over. For now, I don’t want to be thinking about how fucked up the world is, I need to relax. So, I will try to focus on something else, probably myself and my own life challenges. Which are rather insignificant the scheme of things, but they are mine, so they are important to me.

I think this blog will turn into a bit of a journal, I’ll try to keep in mind that people may be reading it and try not to too boring and self-involved. But it’s a blog, what are they for if not indulging one’s own inner dialogues and getting all the thoughts out of one’s head. I am going  to try to write something most days. We shall see…

In the meantime, here is picture of the view from the balcony of our apartment in Gosford, NSW, Australia. It is here that, weather permitting, I do most of my reading and writing and thinking, and drinking of coffee, and sipping of wine, and eating of cheese and crackers… you get the idea.

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Why blog? And for Whom?

I suppose I have a reader in mind, a mysterious x who has the characteristics of many of my friends rolled into one entity, my audience. As it is predominantly my real life friends who read my ramblings anyway, I guess I am not far from the truth.
So, the point then? Why do I write?
Hmmm…. well, to help me think things through, to hopefully have someone who is intelligent comment on what I have written and make me think something new, see something from another angle, questions my assumptions, or affirm my own position. It is always nice to preach to the choir, especially since my choir is rather small. The opinions expressed here are hardly mainstream.
I write to practice with words, so that my future self can be better than I am at explaining her ideas.
Or perhaps I am just bored, and while I wouldn’t say that I am lonely, I do have a lot of time to fill.

Why do you write? Who is it that you think of when you are writing?