Skinnier or sober? pieces of conversations

Pain is calling me

and it whispers to me softly "come and play"

I am falling

and IF I LET MYSELF FALL I'M THE ONLY ONE TO BLAME

I'm safe, up high, nothing can touch,

but why do I feel this party is over?

Coming down, coming down

Spinnin' round, spinnin' round

I'm looking for myself skinnier

When it's good then it's good it's so good 'till it goes bad

Till you try to find the you that you once had

I have heard myself cry never again

broken down in agony just trying to puke again.

(this is what I actually hear when I listen to Pink's Sober)

"You need to lose weight darling"

"I know mom, I do"

"Next time I'll cook the meat so it won't be tempting"

"Yes mom, let's do this".

"How much did you lose from last Saturday?"

"3kg" (that's 6.6lbs for you guys)

"It's too much! have you been fasting??"

"No dad. I have had lunch and dinner every day. I'm just stressed. And I probably gained 2kg back in the weekend"

"...."

"I know"

Safe in my own skin?

After Dubai, it was one week in Montecarlo.
Same client, who operates restaurants and night venues. Never seen so many Ferraris and Lambos in my life.
It was like the world was spinning and it was mostly populated by supercars, diaphane hookers, musicians and singers dressed like the 70s were now, dwarves (yes, dwarves), shishas, 30 liters bottles of Dom Perignon. And in the morning at their offices trying to figure the business, while my head experienced troubles addying 2 and 2.

Carrying around 10/15kg more than all the other girls tends to be depressing. I don't care that most of the girls were hookers, that is not the point. And in the end, how different are we?
I don't have sex with clients, but truly I still have to make them feel successful, smart, powerful and brave. I sell them my skills and knowledge in principle, but practically I sell my time. My time away from home, away from what I care.

The saddest part is that I am totally aware that I'll have to work all my life, and I'm also aware this work/life balance is unsustainable even in the short term. I can no longer manage it, blame it on the age, on the responsibilities it doesn't matter. I just can no longer manage it.

And I tried, I tried quitting, I tried working in a corporate and where did it lead me? If fucked up my mind in first place, and the other consequences, the real ones are/were unspeakeable. Vivien is dead and there is no going back, and I'd rather not even considering that kind of adventure again.

too late for revenge

Dear Vivien,
so they fired the asshole CEO who made you miserable.
The same one who wouldn't look me in the eye at your funeral.

But it's too late, ain't it?

It's not even revenge, after all, he's retiring as a millionaire, and I don't care.

Maybe, at least, things will improve for those who stayed in the company.

My friend, it's been 5 months and the worst part is there is noone I can talk to about you.

train, eat and work

Came in from a sunny Saturday, at work.
I thought I saw something in the mirror.

I turn on on my laptop, work, listen to music
Still, I can't escape the ghost of me.

What is happening to it all? Crazy, someone say
Where is the Lucy that I recognize? Gone away

But I won't cry for yesterday, there's an ordinary world, somehow I have to find
And as I try to make my way to the ordinary world, I will learn to survive.


Well now pride's gone out the window, past the rooftop, gone away...


(thought remotely inspired and adapted to Duran Duran's "Ordinary world", although I suspect if anyone's still reading, they'll be too young to know it)

Can I?

extreme ways that helped me, they helped me out late at night...

bank holiday, and of course I'm working. I'm working 14h+ a day, and I lost a few hours yeasterday as I drove Husband to ER (he woke up in the middle of the night with a huge swollen eye that hurt - luckily no big issue, but it was a big scare.

After this dad told me to get some contramal (basically, morphine in drops) just in case he needed it.

After indulging all afternoon in how convenient it  would be keeping some at home (and dear dad promptly supplied me with a prescription), you know, for emergencies... or for when I'm so stressed I cannot fall asleep... or for when I have a neckache... or for when I'm stressed out.... 
      I decided it's better not to buy any (Hubby was much better anyways), got a bottle of wine for dinner and treated myself into leaving work at 8PM and having dinner at home with husband and wine.

What's scaring me is how often I find myself thinking that drugs would help me get through all this. Mind me, I'm really not doing any drugs - I've even cut on the ibuprofen, but that must be a sign on how our current life is not sustainable. We are working EVERY fucking weekend, in addition to long weeks, and needless today, we are working today and tomorrow (bank holidays here).
I know it's 12 to 18 more months like this, but I'm starting to wonder if I CAN make through it.