I’m reaching a point where I just don’t care anymore. As the song “Suicide Is Painless” goes, “The game of life is hard to play, I’m gonna lose it anyway. The losing card I’ll someday lay, so this is all I have to say”. Before I was in hospital I was reckless. I was up all night, and if I had my bike on me I would have ridden around the streets during the early hours of the morning. My motto lately seems to be: “Life’s journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, shouting “holy shit…. what a ride!”

My doctor has given me leave and I enjoy exploring the inner Melbourne suburbs. The vegan chain Lord of the Fries used to be a treat only for when I visited the city area (which was hardly ever). But now I can have it whenever I want. I catch the tram to the yarra, and I’ve bought some new clothes, including some fluorescent pink jeans from a trash and treasure store and eight party wigs. I’m not sure what the nursing staff make of this. My favourite wig is this short blonde wig:

wig

I feel at peace when I wear it. I feel most like myself. It reminds me of this painting, “A Lemurian Dream” by Adya Nova. “Sisters”, is what I feel. My littlies love the wig. I actually used to be blonde when I was little, but my hair turned brown as I got older. I like to have many different wigs for my many different “parts” (according to Internal Family Systems language), or sides to my personality. There have been some wild parts surfacing lately wanting a revolution. They love the hip city vibe and want to go to gay clubs/bars, something that is usually not my scene. I have been thinking about Fred lately, and I think it is in response to the way he wouldn’t accept who I was. These parts are angry and want to say a big “fuck you” to Fred. They’re also just sick of hiding and sick of everything.

The other evening I broke my round, burgundy, retro glasses, which I was devastated about. I first bought these glasses ten years ago, and have been buying the same pair ever since. Being autistic, I don’t like change. When I find something I like I will stick with it. I didn’t know if the store would have any left. I was so distraught, I thought THAT’S IT. THIS IS A SIGN THAT IT’S TIME FOR CHANGE. TIME FOR A COMPLETELY NEW LOOK. TIME FOR COMPLETELY NEW LEADERSHIP OF THIS SYSTEM. I was so upset and angry that I asked the nurses for some scissors so that I could cut off my long hair! “What does it matter!” I thought, “I’m gonna die, we all are, so may as well live life on the edge and cut it all off”. They wouldn’t give the scissors to me. I’ve calmed down a bit now and am kind of glad I didn’t impulsively cut off all my hair. There are parts of me that like my long hair. The wigs are a better option as they are not permanent.

My laptop battery is about to die and the charger is in the nurse’s station so I will have to finish this post here.