1979-2008

Well, sometimes i admittedly do get affected by suicides, perhaps more than the average punter, but for some reason Heath Ledger's tragic death, which was probably more accident than suicide, is having a strange effect on me. Let me elaborate on the phrase 'strange effect':

We were born in the same year. Whenever i see a person's lifetime listed as 1979-year of death, it seems to affect me profoundly, as though it could be me.

One of the sleeping tablets he took was Stillnox, which i was prescribed but too fearful to take a few weeks back (see previous post). Ledger's recent quotes about his apparent insomnia and over-active brain rang very loud bells in mine, and although my case was perhaps not as protracted as his, i certainly empathised. I had also resorted to cocktailing medication in a desperate reach for sleep. Lucky i was lucky. I thought my body's reaction was pretty extreme, but at least i am alive.

I don't believe he wanted to die, but rather was prepared to play the edge, like so many of us for whom the concept of suicide is not outside the realm of possibility.

May he rest peacefully.

Well, where do I start?

I have had absolutely extraordinary (well, for me anyway) health semi-crisis in the past 72-100 hours. I will write about it properly later, but in the interim i have self-diagnosed adrenalin fatigue, after reading the article below, which i'm sure will appeal to other bloggers, or film-types:

From saucy to sweet.


And this is a great article that made me laugh out loud:

Sleepless in Suckerville

Catherine Deveny has a column in the Saturday Age - called 'Couch Life'. I don't read it regularly at all but do recall her amusing me terrifically in the past. She comments / reviews TV but usually in a fashion completely irrelevant or disparaging to the week ahead's programming. I hope you enjoy it!

The article was also timely, as insomnia is discussed - and basically the health issues relate to not being able to sleep since Wednesday night. I thank The Saturday Age for providing some amusement through this ordeal. I also thank my dear friends for truly looking after me. I am coming out of convalescence mode and am writing this at my friend's house - where i have been trying to recoup. It's likely i haven't slept properly since i got back to the city on NYE. Flew back from my parents forest/no-traffic-noise retreat, albeit with a chest infection, to the heatwave surrounding my cubbyhouse on a major intersection in Melbourne.

I don't begrudge it, and for anyone that's concerned, my mood has been nothing but positive since Wednesday. It is actually also possible that I have overdone the positive thinking and am experiencing some kind of mania. I am finishing a film, which is, and is going to be glorious - for perhaps the first time i have an excitement instead of anxiety and my brain is virtually vibing white heat - just about how to make the film even better over the next 2 weeks.

I've also been thinking about everything that ever happened. Images, thoughts, ideas. Stay tuned for a open day soiree at my cubbyhouse (haven't really been able to receive guests yet - still no couch). The soiree will feature a one-off exhibition of my childhood dress-up and ballet costumes. Kids who fit into the outfits will be the VIP guests. Got to just prevent it getting all girly. Hopefully some blokes/Dads will come too.

Enough now. Got to throw some water on the white heat.

Later alligator.