This weekend has been so fun - my liver is screaming out for a break and i think i may have vodka inside my head instead of brains but it has been veeeeeeery fun. I havent had a drunken weekend like this one in about ten thousand years and my gosh i am out of practise big time!
I went out with my friend on Friday night and got so drunk that i fell to sleep on a table. Last night, i was quite drunk but nowhere near the level of Friday night.
I wanna blog because something happened last night and i don't have a clue how to feel about it.
So, i was outside of the bar we were in and this guy comes up to me. He asked me for a cigarette and i didnt have many so didnt want to give him one. He started literally SCREAMING in my face and being so threatening - an actual arsehole. In the end, i was quite scared so i gave him half a cigarette i forgot about. He suddenly switched and started trying to hug me and everything and i just couldn't deal with the switch in emotion so i just didn't know what the heck to do.
Get ready for this next bit.
He looked down at my arms and started saying, in a really disgusted voice, 'OMG what is that? You cut yourself? You shouldn't do that! Look at the state of your arms. That is disgusting. [shouts his friend over] Come and look at the state of this girl, you're not even going to believe this. Look at her arms theyre a right state. Thats disgusting that isn't it?...'
Literally, he was going ooon and ooon and ooon. I didn't know what to do! I burst in to tears because i just couldnt comprehend a human being being so insensitive and nasty to another person. My arms aren't fresh cuts or scabs or anything. They're old scars from a different time of my life. Old scars that i am going to be stuck with forever.
Granted they're shocking and not the nicest thing to look at but i have to fucking look at them every single day and you have no right to comment like that.
Just step back and imagine someone had been in a car accident and had lost a leg but was relatively okay about it. Would you comment on that? No. Exactly.
And i was in a bad place. I cut myself to smithereens and you know what? I am actually learning to really accept my arms and to show them - well, not SHOW because that implies that i whack em out and stick them in the middle of conversation! I am accepting of them.
This time last year, you don't even know the extent i would have gone to to keep them covered. I'd have gone mad and run round the house to find a cardigan just to answer the door to the postman. Now, i do wear short sleeves. I leave the house wearing short sleeves. And y'know what? I don't feel ashamed of them. They're a reminder of where i have been and how i can overcome things. They're there and i am dealing with that.
I hate them. I hate what i did but i can cope with that because i can't turn back time and i sure as hell can't be bothered bio-oiling when theyre too bad for that shit to work.
I swear i feel so weird now. Once he had done with his outburst - and id told him to go and fucking fuck himself - i went back in to the bar and i literally just wanted to hide from the world. I wanted a cardigan and i wanted it right there and then. It soon passed though and i got on with the night, after going to the toilets and finishing off my little cry.
What an actual cockface!
xxxxx
I feels you on this one Sparkles. I've never had such an extreme reaction but clearly they are big fat cock heads that don't know owt about anything.
ReplyDeleteYou wear whatever you wanna wear!