Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Two Steps Back?

Have you ever had one of those weeks where you sit down and try and review the week and realise it's only Wednesday... and you briefly consider hibernating for the next two days? I'm having one of those weeks.

I've just spent an hour unpacking from my trip home and tidying my room, only to remember that I'm leaving tomorrow to go away until Sunday night and so it was completely pointless. I'd staple my moron badge to my forehead except that I've lost it because I'm a moron. I'm going to blame the tiredness I think.

I feel a little bit like I've taken two steps back in my Life Progress this week - if I had one of those church fundraising thermometers in my front garden then I'd have to paint back over some of the red bit with some white to take it back down. Hopefully it wouldn't go a strange pink colour and confuse people - nobody likes the Savlon on a bloody wound look. Seafood gash sauce is nobody's cup of tea.

Why have I taken two steps back? Two reasons (one reason per step see? Logical), two very good reasons:

1. I have had to take on a part time job to support earnings.
2. I had a panic attack at the weekend.

Now, as a general rule I'm not keen on being miserable about stuff, but, it occurred to me at the weekend that the reason panic attacks suck monkey bollocks is you feel like a proper tosser for having one because they are often irrational or hard to explain. So, I thought if I'm not willing to talk about it and admit I have them and they're no problem, then who is going to?

So. It wasn't fun - I breathed like a shagging hamster for quarter of an hour, I ruined a pillow case with mascara and snot, I screeched like a banshee at various family members who tried to comfort and then I subjected my brother to 2 hours of television with a slightly fragile older sister who was being overly jocular so that he didn't feel awkward. It made it more awkward.


Oh who even frigging knows? As I understand it, panic attacks are quite different for all people. For me, I get a bit quiet and feel not quite right for a while and then something will make it flip - either someone being nice or something in my surroundings changing very suddenly - and I just want the ground to swallow me up so I can dribble and panic away in the dark somewhere.

The best thing about being a bit older and less patient with myself is that I know how to deal with this better. I know how to settle myself. I know how to be slightly better at this side of myself, but it's still not ideal. Sets my week out of whack.

And the new job? Obviously this feels like a step back in terms of how well the career is going... but it's only to be expected I suppose. January and February are quiet months for comedy and I'm not exactly the shiniest star in the comedy sky so I guess it's cool to need a bit of extra income. Isn't it? Yes. If you disagree then feel free to pass my details on to anyone who'd like to pay me to tell jokes.

There we go. I don't really like to be a downer but sometimes I think it's worth it so that everyone knows that things are a bit pants for everyone sometimes. I mean, not often for me because I'm so cool and successful. But I'm mortal. Kind of. But being mortal is easy when your boobs are as awesome as mine.

Night all x


  1. I read your blog when I see it in my newsfeed and it's always brilliant. Kudos for honesty, I know just how you feel (isn't it annoying when people say that?). And big high 5 for awesome boobs.

  2. I used to suffer from panic attacks. I got over them by going out with someone even more neurotic than me - I realise this cure may not work for everyone, and I wouldn't wish my specific neurotic on anyone (you'd really be best avoiding her altogether or, failing that, learn to duck lest she throws an object at your head) – and it came to the stage, when in someplace foreign, dark and extremely dangerous, that if one of us didn’t snap out of it, get themselves together and sort things out, we were definitely going to die. This went on, several times a week for a few months, until I was completely (OK maybe not completely, still have the odd ‘odd’ moment, but it’s far less frequent and I know how to control it) cured.

    So my advice, which you really shouldn’t take unless your life depends on it, is that, when the panic next besets you, seek out the nearest friendly-looking crazy person and utilise their lunacy to your advantage. If nothing else you’ll get some good stories to blog about...

  3. Minus points for panic attacks.
    Plus points for awesome boobs.

    Everything is balanced out and right with the universe.

    The maths is flawless, trust me.