aye me

I'm really unsure how I feel about today's shooting in London. I know there are huge and far reaching reasons and repercussions, but I'm not a journalist nor a political blogger. I write this for me, about me, so I'm writing about how this has made me feel.
It'll ramble on for ages, so if you think I should feel some kind of obligation towards social comment or repotage, you may as well bugger off because I don't.
I care and am interested, but that's not what my blog is for.

I don't want my (relatively speaking) beautiful free country to become a place where the police need to shoot people, especially 5 times while already being pinned down.
I well accept that the guy probably did pose a large, immediate and deadly threat, and the police had to respond with similar force, but our police being armed gives my the heeby's, let alone when the officer reacts in a way which wouldn't look out of place on screen in some multiplex.
The police force is neccessary and includes many fine officers who do a difficult job well. It also attracts some of the most heinous arseholes in the universe. Then they arm them.
I have to say, if I was passionate enough about something to strap a bomb to myself, you'd have to be fucking quick on the draw to shoot me before I pushed the button, so guns against fanatics with bombs sits uneasily with me.


So, feeling uneasy and insecure, I want to aquire things, stuff.
Part of the reason I have my big debt is that, when I get upset, insecure or anxious, especially when they're a result of one of my depressive downswings, I spend money. I felt all of these in spades after my ex was done with fucking with my head.

Buying aquiring stuff makes me feel safe, better. It gets absurd, If I didn't cave and start back on my meds every now and then, I'd be one of those crazies living surrounded by boxes unopened and only bought for the sake of buying.

I love beautiful things anyway, and books, but the road I go down when upset is absurd. I'm a big girl, but I'll buy clothes that will never fit me. It's not self delusion or wishful thinking, I do it because they're beautiful and I'll feel better for having them even though I can't wear them.

Stuff will never let you down, change it's mind, lie, cheat, none of that crap you get with people. Getting new stuff makes me feel safe. I'm not shallow enough to think that stuff, or spesific "cool" or exclusive stuff makes me a special or better person, that you are what you own, it just makes me feel safe.

I've got a handle on my spending (sorta) these days. I have an amazon wishlist with over 400 items, I dump it in there instead of the basket.
I have a folder in my explorer favorites list called "want it", I save the links there and while I may spend a vast and unhealthy amount of time pouring over them, I don't buy.

This unease that isn't a fear of being blown up, but a fear of the changes in the air, has got be wanting things. I've fond mountians of things I want, I've actually got to the checkout stage on three sites tonight before talking myself down.

But then I do actually want these, as my old ones just like them died. I'd feel so happy to get that box delivered to my door, providing a continuity with the times gone where I felt confident and free, when I could go out wearing these (yes, looking quite a lot like some kind of gothic punk hooker, lord knows how/if I actually carried it off).
I don't think I'd wear them now, but the pull is so strong.

The things that go on inside my head scare me sometimes. I'm not about to kill a train full of people because of my belief in aquiring stuff, I can't hurt anyone by needing new beautiful things.
I'm not saying my neuroses have parity with a fanatical religious conviction, or that such total faith in the fairytales of religion is indicative of mental illness, but it scares me what people's wants and needs drive them to do, what they feel the need to do to feel safe, because I can see in myself how it escelates and overrides sense.