My life seems to becoming more and more one of predictable unpredictability. Of constantly being at attention, scared that I'll snap or otherwise somehow lower my defenses and She'll take advantage. That my hands will shake, I'll feel warm, and confusion will bleed away to awareness as I hear my bone grind, flesh shift and grow, clothes tear, horror and fear that I can't stop it, that I'll be found out, I'll be arrested fading as desire and lust for it take hold.

And then I'll wake up the next day in the bed of a guy/guys/woman/women/couple/couples I don't know, or the middle of nowhere with little to no more memory of how I got there. And I'll have to lie more and more, that I don't have a problem, that I'm fine, come up with some truthful sounding explanation for my disappearances, bottle up how much I hate my life and the lack of control I have. Wash, rinse, repeat :(

And support from friends, online and off, is drying up as She burns more and more bridges even with people who know about my condition. Its hard to maintain sympathy for me when I'm chatting or calling when suddenly She's raging down the phone as the handset begins to groan and creak in my hand, or Her fingers are virtually crushing the keys as my clothes get tight in all the wrong places. So the only people are are generally persisting are those that don't want to be cured, those who just want Her and see as a hindrance, which of course makes me feel great -_-

My sleep patterns are becoming worse too, increasingly rare I'll sleep the night through, even on nights I know I don't fully change (stretched PJs only) I often wake up uncomfortable and toss and turn before I finally nod off again, like I'm forced to mentally wrestle with Her even when I'm trying to rest. So more often or not I'll only wake-up because the alarm is screaming at me, feeling like I've barely slept at all.

I think...no, I know I'm a caffeine addict, because I'm drinking insane volumes of coffee to counteract that and make it through work, but I know I'm just making things worse but I have no other answer or way to cope apart from booze, which tends to help Her more than me.

Aren't you glad you hung around.

Another New Years

I won't say Happy New Years because... I haven't had one in three years, not since I drank that damned formula.

2008/2009 I tried to have a normal...what was my normal New Years by going to South Bank to see the fireworks, drink and have fun, and well... you can read what happened in the archives of this blog :/

2009/2010 I opted to try and exclude myself from anything I thought might set me/her off, renting a small cabin in the Glasshouse Mountains. Beautiful scenery, total quiet. Went to bed... and woke up next day back in Brisbane in a bed with two guys. Taxi ride back to pick up my car/stuff was insanely expensive :(

This time - 2010/2011 - I was convinced to go to a quiet party at a riverside apartment with some girlfriends, nothing super fancy and they claimed they understood that I had a "prior date and might have to leave on a moments notice" to cover any green-ness. But it wasn't a quiet party at all, it was almost a hens party save we wore little hats saying "Happy New Year". Everybody got very drunk very fast, except me, desperately nursing drinks and trying to maintain myself. I tried to flee but they wouldn't let me, everything was spiraling out of control and I could feel her nibbling at the edges, feeling her smugness, knowing that was about to fall apart at any second.

And then my top starts to get beyond tight, bra is digging in in all the wrong places, skirt sliding up my legs, panties are sliding into my butt, I'm downing my still half full glass in an instant while reaching for a whole bottle to follow, She's giggling like a loon while I'm desperately hoping my friends are already drunk enough to cover what will happen. I'm stumbling about, partly from how much Crusiers I've had, partly the fact my muscles are pulsing and twitching as the grow and change. I practically fall onto a friend, locking lips with her, returning the favor much too fast, people cheering as we start to make out.

Then this morning, and I'm me. In a bed. With her.

I have experimented with such things back in my uni days so not total horror at that. But normally I'd flee as fast as humanly possible, but knowing her personally kind of makes that hard to make a clean getaway. So instead its a more measured pondering on my drunken recolections from last night on who might have seen me. Assuming nobody else came in, and none of my friends are lying, drink lowered my repressed defenses and the wild child within escaped but no color change or massive physiological changes.

That said, I probably won't be sleeping well tonight -_-

Any point going on?

Am I me?

Perhaps a strange question to ask, but I increasingly wonder. I know people change over time, nobody ever stays static (unless their dead) but I have a hard time even relating to who I was only two years ago. Admittedly having a whole other you running around tends to do that, but sometimes I just feel like I've been running around picking up and cleaning up her messes that feel like I'm ceasing to be a person. That at most I'm a shadow of her, trailing along and not actually of substance.

Of course that leads me to wonder if instead of my belief that She's me with all the safety switches turned off, that infact She's the real Katherine and I'm just a pathetic watered version of her.

Twittering away

My life just seems to be on stand-by, progress a little bit and then pause...

... and when it un-pauses I'm somewhere else, half naked with little to no memory of where I am. Or I'm at home half drunk surrounded by smashed memories and items. Or the blog entry I was writing has mysteriously transformed into window of expletives seemingly blaming me from every wrong in the world.

I'll keep trying, but thought I'd mention I'm on twitter

http://twitter.com/KatTF69

its no much, perhaps that's why she hasn't ruined for me yet...

Okay so... old posts

I've been asked what happened to my older posts, and now that I'm not getting rung by Doc every day or so I've had time to figure it out.

I'll blog about that shortly, I promise.

Don't know why I'm here

Well, okay I had pondered on this place being a replacement for my last "home", but its probably too restrictive in how much of her "adventures" I can actually post and avoid a ban.

At the moment, she... she lacks.... inhibitions is one way of putting it.

All those beautiful, calm, uneventful months with my boyfriend are gone... back to square one, and boy is she's letting me know. If I had hopes that Doc could cure our control our shared conditions, much like those hidden hopes of a relationship with him before we both drank that fateful formula, I have no such hopes now, we... we can't be in the same room without our "otherselves" wanting to jump the other...

And the fact that I'm cheating... even if its her and not me-me... is only making me feel worse.

I wish Doc has never come back :(

Entry for April 08, 2009

Oh... I.. I wish I was writing this for better reasons...

Normally... normally I've been posting here about my....uh... "change". I guess I haven't been posting because I've been busy with work and the fact she hadn't been making any appearances. Even my metabolism settled down, still hungrier than before but far cry from January. I... I guess I've been calmer, and it's because....I....uh... have a boyfriend.

I haven't had much luck with guys since.... anyway, I'm not getting younger and it just seems harder to find a good man you know. Mitch... Mitch is different. I feel comfortable around him, he makes me laugh and feel loved, and he seems to like me too. The only problem we've had is even now he's still a bit sore from when this strange, angry green eyed woman shoved him into a wall...

Yeah, Mitch... Mitch is the first security guard I encountered during my "James Bond" style break-in.

I didn't plan on a relationship with him. The first time I went there in a stupid attempt to see if he'd recognize me before she fully emerged. I needn't have bothered, at that point he was drifting between consciousness that he was barely awake. But he just lay there so helpless and I just went to pieces, guilt just weighed down on me. The nurses just assumed I was his girlfriend I guess, they never asked but assumed that my dutiful attendance could mean nothing else. So I kept visiting him after work, nobody else at work seemed to care outside sending him a bunch of flowers and a get well card.

When Mitch finally woke up about a two weeks after he'd met the wall, I had completely forgotten my original intention for visiting him, and if he recognized me from that night. He was shocked that I was there and wondered if there was some ulterior motive. It seems Mitch, despite his reasonably built form, was a bit shy too. So we just talked about stuff and kind of... well... hit it off. Is it any wonder I didn't really post, as my normal life came to the fore?

Its been so long... soooo long since... since I had the kind of life I guess I wanted. A guy I love, who loved me. A good solid relationship. No empty lonely flat, empty lonely life, thinking about what could of been, what might of being if I was just a little bit taller, a little bit bustier, a little be sexier. I guess having what I've wanted, what I'm sure I want, gave me to strength to restrain her, lock her away deep inside where I can't hear her siren call...

I haven't changed in so long that I felt... normal. No looking over my shoulder when ever a police man came near, no overriding nightmares of reflective silver, scalpes and being strapped to tables, no fear that of waking up half naked or worse, normal. An average normal life. I even only thought about and emailed Doc once a week, I didn't feel the need to cure her as I was in control.

It's different for Doc of course, his... the "Creature" is slightly more problematic than she is, almost caveman like mentally and sooo big to hear Doc tell it. So when he announced he was coming back to town to follow up on some promising research and would pay me a visit, who was I to say no? Before... before I would have died to get him back, now...

My heart skipped a beat when I read his email.... and not in a good way. I've felt... a strange unease since that I can't place and seems to be... alien to my moods. I had trouble getting to sleep tonight, fighting not to disturb Mitch as I tossed and turned until I had to get out of bed to do something, anything to clear my mind. So I decide to go to the toilet, have a sit, then wile away the hours on the net until my brain shuts off. But as I turn on the light I catch sight of a sick green glow to my skin. My eyes go wide as I realize what this means, but its gone in an instant. But that unease is still there, stronger and more distinct now, and the now stretched and loose elastic of my two week old crop top and panties reveal its more than mental.

Why now? Why now when eveything is goig so well... why... what's causing it, what's triggering it? Can I stop? Why? Why?

Ooooh gawd...gawd... gawd... I just want to be normal now ;_;