Oh What a Night!

Mum thought it would be an idea to do and actually do something on New Years Eve this year rather than simply trying to stay awake until midnight and failing miserably, as in every year past. Plan 1 was a murder mystery evening at a local (ish) pub, however despite the fact they still had ads on their website, we were far too late in trying to book for that.

So mum went onto the ever faithful lastminute.com and booked for a westend show (paying through the nose, i might add!). The show was good although it took me a long time to relax and get into the (rock) music - not because i didn't like it - but more for the issue of girls/dancers in sports tops and hot pants, looking wonderfully slim and toned, with rib cages visable during dance numbers/songs due to the effort their lungs were putting in. The fact that it's something i've always wanted to do, ever since a young child also doesn't help the envy issue, i remember when i got one of the supporting leads in the whole school musical it was a dream come true. I struggled right throughout the first half, and in the darkness of the Stalls, my little finger was twisted in ways that it naturally doesn't like. By the interval when i went to the ladies my stress levels were still though the roof and the self harm urges were coming thick and strong - the only weapons i had on me though were my finger nails (half of which are broken or have ripped right down to nothing!), but once again in the privacy of my cubicle i took my frustration and desperation out on my stomach, it just doesn't have the same affect when i have nothing to show for it (other than a few scratch marks this morning).

I got into the musical more in the second half and by the end was singing along as loudly as i could. The next task was to make our way to the river Thames, to try and view the fireworks. However due to the crowds we never made it further than Trafalgar Square. As i stood in the cold, surrounded by drunk, tispy and seemingly sober people the anxiety levels began to rise again. Not in the respect that i was getting crushed by people trying to fight their way through to their destination - not that most of them knew where they were going. But it was more the suicidal feelings that were rising to the surface. With so much broken glass, due to broken bottles, police every few yards - it just seemed to have all the elements of previous abscondtion episodes, other than the fact that i was with mum and D, and there were millions of other people around.

All i could think though as all these people were screaming 'Happy New Year' to anyone and everyone, was

"i don't want another year"

"this one was enough"

"i've have had enough new years thank you, it's time to stop having them now"

and then the normal

"Oh god, i wonder what the disaster event of 2010 will be"

After the fireworks came the inevitable crush, although perhaps i hadn't quite expected it to be as bad as it was. With people intoxicated, some started pushing the crowds forwards, which when you are only 5"2' (both mum & i) means you generally end up more squashed, it started getting dangerous right around the Square, resulting in one girl having a major panic attack somewhere behind me. I was more concerned about getting mum out safely, afterall, we know i'm big enough and bad mad enough to look after myself! What i couldn't exactly admit to mum was that although i wanted her safe, my thoughts were turning more to those 'accidents' that could happen. Basically i don't care about myself and if something harmful/damaging happens it means someone else has done the injury and its not my fault etc.

But we made it out of the crush (with me leaning my back into the crowd as much as i could hold, in order to make sure mum, who was in front of me, got crushed as little as possible. And i led them both, in a chain, up past leicester square, on a route march to tottenham court road, where we got a seat for the journey home. All the way to the tube my head was filled with thoughts of glass, police, section 136, one under's and various other possibilities.

Maybe part of it was due to fatigue and exhaustion, having been up for 16 hours by that point (with another 3 hours until i went to bed!) and also having completed an hour long hard gym class/circuit during the morning. Things feel slightly less suicidal this morning, despite only 4 and 3 quarter hours of nightmare filled sleep, however i am really fed up with the phrase "Happy New Year", does the BBC News really need to use it so much?

To those who've made it to the end of another post i hope that 2010 does bring you some good things.

Take Care.

xx