the muddleheaded woman and the case of the missing make-up
i have always been quite the organised and thoughtful woman. tell me your birthday and i'll remember it forever. come over for tea just once and i'll always know just how you like it. invite me to an event weeks in advance and i'll be there on time, and possibly with bells on.
and i never lose anything. not my wallet, not my keys, not my dignity. okay, so i lose my dignity on a weekly - sometimes hourly - basis, but i always buy it back again.
but in the past year or two - since "the badness" began - i have been a complete and total scatterbrain. i have forgotten appointments, missed birthdays and defaulted on bills with startling regularity.
i have also totally lost the ability to concentrate on any sort of intellectual activity for more than 10 minutes at a time. this makes reading books difficult and writing essays next to impossible. and this really HURTS. i LOVE reading and i used to be the QUEEN of essays. but no longer my friends. oh no, no longer at all.
recently i've also started losing things. it started with small, easily replaceable items. a sock here. a tub of hair gel there. whatevs. but now my condition has worsened and the misplaced items are becoming increasingly valuable.
i am seriously beginning to believe that i would lose my cans if they weren't
in the past month alone i have lost my sunglasses and my make-up case. both of which i use daily. both of which i love on a deep, spiritual level. both of which would cost my entire weekly paycheque to replace. do you know how much a good mascara costs these days? yup, that's right, a whole fucking lot.
and if anyone out there has a problem with my bourgeois affection for material goods (i'm looking at YOU mr. anarcho-technocrat), just fucking cope already. i will not apologise for my love of gorgeous things. and you can't fucking make me.
miraculously, after losing my sunglasses somewhere between the library the cafe and the punk's boyfriend's parents' house, i have managed to reclaim them and they are once again resting happily on top of my head. i am putting this down to persistence and hope. it seems that if you complain enough about losing something, the gods will return it to you just to shut you the fuck up.
and then there's my make-up case. this i lost on saturday night somewhere between the pub the doggies the pub the other pub the other pub the seedy bar the awful club and the pub again. thus when i realised it was gone i was forced to retrace my steps on saturday night and remember how i went to several god-awful places in my drunken birthday quest for boys and booze. and then i had to call them all and ask if anyone had found a bulky bag of girlie shit, CAUSE ITS MINE AND I WANT IT BACK!
once again the gods of lost accessories were smiling down upon me and i managed to locate and reclaim my cosmetics case in the dodgiest bar you can imagine. and i think the shame of going back to this god-awful joint to pick up my stuff from a balding barman with no front teeth was my punishment for being such a boozed-up trash-hound.
slowly but surely, my muddleheadedness is killing my soul. i hate being forgetful. i hate being stupid. i hate being a crazy lady.
my therapist and several of my unregistered psychoanalysts (aka friends and family) say that all this is a natural part of the grieving process. and they may be indeed be right. but i am inclined to think that all this is a natural part of being a raging alcoholic. hmm. perhaps a little from column a, a little from column b.
anyway, thanks for listening/reading what might just be the longest, dullest post ever. sorry bout that, it just kinda took on a mind of its own and i was powerless to stop it.
i'm off to get a latté. now, where the fuck are my car keys?
OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE!
*cries*
12 Comments:
I hope the balding barman with no front teeth didn't use any of your makeup.
shut up. i am trying not to think about that possibility, tuppence.
although he could definitely do with a makeover.
let me know if you find my sunnies, my voice or my cat's appetite.
Cheers. x
When my dad died I lost 1987. Talk about careless.
What mascara? I swear by YSL waterproof.
DiorShow mascara.
It's literally designed for shows, so it just builds up and makes you look like a 60s movie star.
Can you tell that i am totally not materialistic?
la nadine, it's stress and sadness and it can eat away at your brain until you are living in a fog and your head is full of static. after five years of it myself [cause of my mum] i had to pull away just a little, kick my lazy sister's arse so that she would help with the driving, fetching, taking to hospital, blah de blah, and the million other things that eat away at your week. and which you are so happy to do for your darling mother. but i had to focus on my studies and the rebuilding of my life.
do i feel better: heaps [really strong chinese herbs help too]
do i feel guilty: all the time.
but i felt i was losing my mind. seriously. and mum is fine too. she's seeing more of my sister.
I was just about to comment on how funny and entertaining I found this post, and then you went and described it as 'the longest, dullest post ever.' Now I feel kind of uncool and grandma-like, which is, you know, so totally inaccurate. Sigh.
Still. It was funny and I identified x1000, only I don't have anything to blame it on but hereditary ADD.
When I lost my baby, albeit at my own hands, (Grief and guilt- The Double Whammy) I also lost my mind, for a good [horrendous] two years… It's an arse. Your mind is one thing you would really like to hold onto, please.
I thought I needed glasses, reading was so impossible. Uni was a write off. Trauma affects your vision and also your attention span.
If it's any consolation (and I don't presume it will be) even though the amount of things I lost, neglected, misplaced or forgot is massive, I can't remember any of them now… Your mind has a way of knowing what's important, despite how devastating such mishaps can seem at the time.
And you got everything back!
If you ask me, someone is protecting you.
It is difficult to feel at home in your skin when you feel someone has replaced your identity with that of a seven year old Jessica Simpson, minus youthful optimism, but no-one can change the fact that you are smart. When the fog lifts you will not only be smart but profoundly strong, another thing you will never lose. Until then, you need to allow yourself time to be a walking liability, because it’s the self battery that will kill your soul, not absent mindedness.
[random love from an anonymous survivor]
bless you, anonymous.
right back at ya chook.
mascara: what??! I WORK for Dior cosmetics and I still use MaxFactor 2000 calorie or Lashfinity. Quite simply because MaxFactor do mascara better than anyone else around. And it's waaaaaaaaaay cheaper than Dior too! bonus..
Nads, if you ever have a makeup crisis again, yell, i'll send a redcross parcel. I have £1000's worth kicking about, i'm sure i could ditch some of it!
... You remembered my real name from across the table on the phone last night...
THAT'S RIGHT BLOGSTALKERS!! MY NAMES NOT ANNA!! ARGHH!!
*tears off latex mask*
Anyways, I was impressed and a little chuffed that you did. I hope the meal was lovely. xx
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