…I would change like so many things you can’t even imagine, but not for long, because that’s who and how I am.
We had the fifth anniversary where is this going sort of chat with Husby and he said that his biggest fear is that I would change one day. I was like, dudebrohusby, I have ultra-ultra-rapid cycling bipolar. I change approximately every six hours. I don’t even know how you recognise me when you come home from work. No, he said, that’s not it. I mean your character. And I guess I kind of know what he means. Sort of. I guess.
When I worked at my previous job I had this colleague called Joe. He was an Aussie (this is not important) and had a great haircut (this, however, is). In the 5 1/2 years we worked together, I believe I had a buzzcut, blonde mohawk, black mohawk, red mohawk, braids, long-ish hair, another post-breakup blonde mohawk and then I can’t remember because I don’t take notes and my photo library is a mess. In all this time, Joe went to a hairdresser twice a month to trim his ends and keep his haircut exactly the same all the time.
This was both infuriating and fascinating. Infuriating because I NEVER liked my haircut for a long time. It would always be like: whoa, I am the coolest motherfucker in the world. Actually it’s not so cool is it. Well it’s kind of boring. Maybe I should change the colour. Yeah!!! THAT WORKS!!! Well actually now that I look at it, it needs a little zig-a-zig-ah. Yeah fire engine red is fab! (This was the time when strangers would greet me on the street because I was literally the one and only person in Amsterdam who had a red mohawk and a red bushy beard, and when I say red I mean RED red. And I didn’t greet them back because I have no ability to recognise faces unless I’ve seen you at least three times this week alone.) In the meantime, Joe would just walk around being like completely satisfied with his hair.
Obviously there is a big chance he spent every waking day of his wishing secretly to be as Brave and Creative as me and cursing his cowardice that made him look the same every day. But thing is, he looked flawless with that haircut. He discovered the perfect one and held on to it. HOW. Just how can people do this. At least balding gays shave their remaining bits and stick with it. I have the misfortune… *knocks on wood immediately* …to not lose my hair.
See, this is how I see everything in the world except a few things. In the last years:
- I promised myself to never smoke ever
- I started smoking pipe once a month, then threw the rest of tobacco away and bought new one every time, because the previous package dried completely, which was very expensive sort of smoking
- I started smoking pipe every evening and it went best with whiskey which is why I have no savings and had two liver transplants
- I got “the cough” and stopped smoking altogether (and also stopped drinking while I was at it because one total change at once doesn’t cut it)
- I discovered snus, chewable tobacco that’s a bit like tiny, stinky teabags, and got hooked on it
- I slowly weaned myself off snus
- I bought cigars and smoked them greedily
- I went back on snus
- Quit it again
- I’m waiting for a new delivery to arrive, while brand new pipe tobacco is waiting for a new pipe to arrive from Ukraine (which saves me about 80% of the price compared to Dutch stores).
This is just one aspect. Husby had to get used to all of that in the meantime. I think cigars are his least favourite, followed by the strong non-fruity snus. But it was him who suggested I try smoking pipe again because the cigars were not really a success (I love everything about them except for the fact they smell like cigars, which is really sadly gross). Oh and by the way I am putting an on/off switch on that smoke detector.
I buy a smartphone. I use it religiously for months. A new one comes out. I suddenly realise my smartphone (which hasn’t actually even had an icon update so is EXACTLY AS IT WAS BEFORE) is terribly slow, has a shit screen and generally is unusable. So I get the new one and I use it daily and can’t shut up about how fabulous it is, until I see what my brother bought and suddenly… you catch the drift. I am pathetically grateful to Apple about how shit the new Macbook Pros are because I would have one by now. Do I need those things? No. Do I want them? Depends. What day of the week is it today? Okay and is it afternoon or morning? Then I do. Or not. What did you say the weather was?
I have wardrobe(s) suitable for about five people. I am having a brown suede phase now where I love wearing brown suede, so I have boots, pants, jacket, shirt and a scarf for my hair which I don’t use because it makes no sense with a braid. But I might use it one day, except by then I will probably be exclusively wearing pink taffeta. Or clothes made of wood. (Paging Haus of Gaga.) One thing for sure is that Husby’s life is ALWAYS enriched by my antics. Or that’s how I like to call it. Perhaps he uses the word “disturbed” or “for the love of all that is good and pure can’t he stop for a minute” but we don’t talk about it in too much detail just in case.
For all the failed sex talk I did here so far, I also alternate between monogamy and lack of it. There were periods (related to hypomania in bipolar) where I’d hump anything as long as corners weren’t too sharp. There were periods when I can’t imagine why I would touch anybody but Husby EVER. And everything in between. I go without one date for a year, then suddenly I am on three dating sites for two weeks, remember why I left them before and sign out again. In the meantime I meet somebody or not. Or five somebodies. And then there goes Joe parading his perfect haircut and being happy with his wife ALL THE FUCKING TIME. (They are STILL together. That should be illegal. People can’t just sail through life being STABLE all the time. Oh, he also still works there, only got a raise and promotion, while I… let’s not go to there but let’s say I am neither richer nor more important than five years ago.)
There are very few things that I am certain of all the time. Regardless of weather, day of the week, depression, mania, stability, current meds, Apple’s latest product series I know the following things for sure:
- I love fire. I always loved fire. I will always love fire. Possibly when I am dying in the middle of a forest fire I start myself by accident I will take breaks from all the screaming and, you know, burning to admire the view.
- I love electronic gadgets. If you leave me with a wifi connection I am going to use it to check Macrumors, Android Central, SamMobile etc., not because I NEED anything, but because I absolutely must know what updates a phone I don’t own and never will received last week. I have no explanation for this.
- I am creative. Mind you, the meaning of this changes every week as well. Today I am writing this post. Tomorrow I will be working on music. Speaking of which, my last album was dance and the upcoming one is shaping up to be ambient electronica soundtrack kind of thing. But of course I don’t know if I will actually get to working on it, because I also want to take a wood burner tool and make myself a nice sign saying MANCAVE for my mancave door. And I also need to work on one of the many book ideas I have. But I always do something unless I am either so depressed that breathing hurts, or so manic that my hands are in the kitchen, legs in the living room and head out of the window, probably screaming.
- I’m physical. I like using my body. I like being able to run, lift things, hit things, push and pull things. Sitting for two days (which is something I did a lot longer than two days when my back injury was ongoing) is monstrously tough for me. I need to move. And lift. And run. And hit things with hammers. But I have absolutely no interest in any team sports. Maximum size of team is one and maximum size of teams present at once is two, which is a rule I only lift for rugby (because rugby) and American wrestling (because it’s basically gay BDSM porn and I can’t believe its reportedly straight fans never noticed that).
- I get grumpy when I am hungry. If you wait long enough, I’ll get nasty. If you keep me without food even longer, I will kill you with your own toenail and eat your heart raw. And then I’ll be all fed so I’ll become nice again and feel very sorry about what happened to you.
- I will always have a beard. (Of varying colours.) Last time I decided to change something there, I thought I’d do the gay look where you just shave the part in the middle under lower lip. I looked like someone who shouldn’t be left in the house unattended with a razor. So I shaved the sides for the Village People handlebar moustache look. That made me look like a spectacularly failed drag king Smalltown Folks tribute band member. So I just left the moustache and looked like a 70s Polish redneck. So all went and for the next few weeks (because it takes me three weeks to get the five o’clock shadow) I would give myself a minor heart attack when I looked in the mirror and saw somebody I have never met before. Trust me. Red mohawk or blonde braid, I’m recognisable (to myself). No beard? I never met this person and I don’t want to.
- I love Husby with all my heart. I have never felt like this. I never expected I could. I’ve never had a relationship that lasted five years before. I’ve never been so completely enamoured in the smell of somebody’s skin FOR YEARS. I may be depressed, manic, stable, asleep, awake, in bed with someone else and I still love him, and I am capable of missing him when he goes to the loo.
Truth is this is probably all that I can think of. EVERYTHING else changes. I don’t know if this blog will be around in three months from now because my blogging ideas change too. (Also Sims 4 screenshots are proving to be surprisingly time-consuming.) I’d tell you how many blogs I had but I lost count. Which coincidentally I also lost when it comes to the amount of people I slept with, but that’s a different post.