Little islands

Perhaps I want to proove that things maybe aren't as bad as they may seem in black and white. When written down my thought are a little scarey, much safer that they are boxed away and people continue with their illusion that I'm coping, if a bit quirky.

So as proof I'm making a list of times when I fould an island. When it all went away.

Technically harder than it seems...

Last night, sitting on the sofa with Tom, being held tight.

A similar moment last weekend

Not being able to sleep last night and creeping around the house to see my people all curled up looking at total peace

Sitting in the car one morning this week and just taking in how pretty the castle looks in autumn and wishing someone a sunny day

Little islands of calm in my storm. Even a minute where there's momentary confirmation that my feeling of being alone at sea is just in my head and I can close my eyes and smile is enough to break the clouds for a while. It's not all bad.

Ribbon On My Wrist

Ok so when you initially ask for help, you're generally asked to fill in a questionaire where you score statements from 1 to 4 on how accurate they are. There's more to it than just scores though. So I thought instead I'd tell people the truth about how things are in my head recently by answering each question in my own words seeing as I've migrated inwards.



1. I feel downhearted, blue, and sad.
Well, I've been writing the blog for three months now so the chances are this is pretty accurate. Except blue and sad doesn't cut it. When the sad takes hold on occasions it's more like a void. One blog described it best, it creeps up on me quietly then hits and becomes a big fucking black hole.

2. Morning is when I feel the best.
I can't tell when I feel best. Some mornings are happy, others I wake up and immediately wish I hadn't. In the same was the evenings pass with no regulality - some evenings I want to snuggle and be loved and others I want to crawl under a rock where no-one can find me. If there is any regular occurance then mid morning is most likely when I'll slip into twitchy mode and lose track of everything and everyone in my attempts to be productive, my head tingles. And mid afternoon is pretty much a guaranteed downward to a degree, when I'm at home without the distraction of being a mushroom, this is the point when things sometimes seem at their worst.

3. I have crying spells or feel like it.
I didn't. It was more like I couldn't. But I felt like it - sometimes I feel like crying just out of pure frustration that I can't just function like everyone else. Sometimes it's because the world as a whole just scares me and I want someone to wrap me up in their arms and make it all better.


4. I have trouble sleeping through the night.
Nope. Not me - not unless you count the kids. If anything it's all I want to do.


5. I eat as much as I used to. (If you are on a diet, answer as if you were not.)
I eat. I like food. I don't like what it does to me. And it's more like food apathy - I'll eat if it's there and I don't have to do anything with it. I'll make an effort to make sure the kids eat healthily, I just can't be bothered to feed myself, that and having been so apathetic about eating, I quite like the after effects.

6. I enjoy looking at, talking to, and being with attractive women/men.
Again, so dependant! Yes, depending on who it is. People I'm close to, absolutely, random strangers absolutely not. I don't like people and my dislike of being near new people has just intensified recently. I feel utterly raw and sometimes feel like they can see all of this bleugh on display just by looking at me. It used to feel hidden and now I just feel exposed and I don't understand why.

7. I notice that I am losing weight. (If you are on a diet, answer as if you were not.)
Surely this was answerd above?! Why am I being asked this again? I've lost some, not intentionally.

8. I have trouble with constipation.
And this is relevant somehow?

9. My heart beats faster than usual.
I don't wear a heart monitor - last time I tried one it increased for a whole different reason lol. Other than that, are you asking me if I'm nervous? Paranoid? Yes, quite possibley. Quite a lot. I panic at the slightest thing. Everything worries me. I fret that I've upset people or that those closest to me are drifting away, and yet I rarely tell them becuase I worry that me being insane will drive them away further (can you see where I'm goin here?)

10. I get tired for no reason.
I've not slept properly in 4 years - there are two reasons upstairs looking rather more innocent than they really are. But yes, I get lethargic, apathetic and generally tired (or just bloody lazy)

11. My mind is as clear as it used to be.
I don't remember ever not feeling up and down like this. This recent crap is just me, but magnified.

12. I find it easy to do the things I used to do.
What did I used to do? Not a lot. Drink I guess. And I can't do that now. But I do much more now, so yes nice and easy here.

13. I am restless and can't keep still.
Sometimes. Sometimes I have to fill every second and can't sit down, but I balance that out nicely ;)

14. I feel hopeful about the future.
I have no actual plans, I'm just sort of seeing what happens. People around me are planning their lives away and I just feel like I'm riding the wave. I can't plan if I don't know what's ahead.

15. I am more irritable than usual.
I'm always irritable. I take after my Dad ;)

16. I find it easy to make decisions.
I don't want to make them - does that count? Recently I'd rather let other people take over the important stuff.

17. I feel that I am useful and needed.
I'm needed. Sometimes I am sure about being wanted, others not so sure. I need reassurance and probably don't provide enough reassurance to the people that I love.

18. My life is pretty full.
Totally.

19. I feel that others would be better off if I were dead.
There are times, yes. This I guess is the biggie. I think about what would happen and it's more the thought that perhaps people would be better off, but they hurt that it would cause would be horrible so better to ride the storm than let other people hurt.

20. I still enjoy the things I used to do.
Does WoW count?


Last word. Things aren't that bad. They've been much much worse. I'm just a bit wibbly while I work out how all this change affects how I can be openly. I just wanted to be honest.

lucri causa

For the sake of gain. Or in my case piece of mind.

Things must be stored away. Change approaches and private lives must become more private. You can't challenge change when it's for the greater good, but I predict rain. I just have to ride the storm.

Ultradian Cycling

Some information to explain why I have been bouncing up and down like a slightly demented yoyo. The past few months have been a bit of a roller coaster with me deciding to let things fly. But to add to this, there has been a return of cycling. For a long time it was relatively easy to hide as first came the children (and the blame lay with hormones.... what a wonderful excuse!) then before that excuse ran out I started Uni where the periods of normality were quite lengthy, manic moments were addressed with coursework and I could throw myself into hours of coursework producing pages upon pages (jokes were generally made that my assignments would be three times as long as anyone else's, but hey, it got me good grades!). But these waves were the reason for my putting so much work in - they gave me an outlet. The not so great moments were there too, but were easily put down to being tired, over-stressed and having issues with tutors.

Now the course is over, and work, although much less pressured than the course doesn't provide me with an obsession to feed my moods. The down feels more empty and the ups have no focus so I flit from one thing to another with no grounding force - this is possibly worse than the downs as the ups take so many forms from euphoria (which is fine when you have an outlet, but not when it's because you cleaned a worktop to perfection) to anxiety so intense you can't breathe and as calm as you try to appear you just always seem 'twitchy'.

A few months back I decided to return to using some medication to lift things a little, but I had to stop these when my hips gave out and painkillers were needed. The combination of painkillers and pills weren't marvelously safe, so pain free became the focus as my mood had stabilized. And while I was out of my tree on painkillers I cared little for my mental state as I wasn't sure if my brain and body were indeed connected. Now I've ceased the painkillers, the cycling has returned with ferocity, and instead of days up days down which I was used to, I was faced with several cycles in a day. I wake up full of the joys of spring and by lunchtime I'm so apathetic it's unreal, then back up in the evening (or any combination you can think). I've been here before, when I finally notice it, it's called Ultradian Cycling and frankly must be awful for those around me. I can't imagine living with anyone in this state! So I got the happy pills back out, and 24 hours after returning to htp & lithium orate I'm feeling more stable than I have in weeks. It's like life in sharp focus again. So instead of harping on about how unfair life is, I just want to say sorry to people around me; I've been a pain in the arse. It's not a miracle cure, but rational is a start.

To Blog Or Not To Blog

I got a bit deep last week. I was having a bit of a dip and I'm not sure I could figure out why.

And yet, today with the rain lashing down outside, my hips aching and the kids ignoring every word I utter, it's not all that bad. I've been rather productive - online shopping done and being delivered later, washing is underway and I've even cleared up the kids room and the hall. DT is coming over in a bit to help me continue with the war against mess, although I'll admit to actually wanting to have a hermit day. I have little interest in the goings on of that group of people at the moment. It's all high drama and cliques - not my thing.

We threw out loads of stuff over the weekend and parts of my house actually resemble something near organisation. I'm attempting a tidy session then shrinking into a corner to wince. Sad, but effective.

And what of the crazy? Actually the moment of sad appears to just be lingering in the background. Not as the old style fury and mass self-destruct that it once was, but as a background lull into apathy. I've become rather insular over the past week or so, slipping into this familiar routine of addressing the things under my nose and becoming forcefully blissfully unaware of everything else. Happiness entails a tidy house, peace at work, a warm bed, love and cuddles. Everything else is pretty much by the by. Credit crunch? Meh, things go in cycles, what goes down will eventually come back up. US President? Well that was rather fun to watch from afar, but the tv show is over now. Mass global terrorism? It's horrific, but there's nothing I can do, and worrying about it won't help.

As a plan it does seem like a good idea, but while I've been insulating, I've also cut out a few people from the head stuff ~ it's not that I want to, instead it's that the apathy has taken a new form and instead of feeling intensely, I feel very little. I have become blank, excepting a few moments. Having let everything fly into the ether, I embraced being a princess. It was great and for a while there I was the highest and lightest I've ever been. Except being a princess isn't viable when in fact fairytales don't exist. I know people may find it sad that accepting life just isn't based on fantasy, but it's not. Life in general is grinding your way through the daily tasks with a reward of a hug at the end of the day to keep you fighting tomorrow. Reality is that life just is. Yes, I'll always dream of being a princess, but dreams are just that unless you're in a disney film. I've accepted reality, and I'll take those moments of love and comfort as an added bonus.

Propaganda May Have It's Roots In Truth Sometimes

I was musing on the way home what to blog about. There have been a few things running through my head that I wanted to mentally delve into and I was sort of composing them as I drove home (essentially to ignore the twangs happening in my back!).

The I got home and opened my post and read a letter which is blatantly propaganda, but touched me. It was one of the things I was toying with and wasn't sure if I really wanted to think about it ever again. I'd mentioned it's passing on here once and decided that that was enough. But it shouldn't be. There are things which affected me deeply and in the tradition of expressing my feelings I'm going to do so.

I know there are a couple of readers who, for them this blog may be painful, and I therefore suggest you don't read it. Not because I don't trust you with the details, but becuase I want to sheild you from being upset while at the same time releasing these issues. This is a part of my past and I need to accept that this happened and that the present is so much better. This is not meant to upset or offend, it's just something I need out of my head and into the ether. So here goes...

The letter I received was from the Society for the Protection of Unborn Children. Unbeknown to most people I am pro-life. Unless there are extreme circumstances, I do not believe that abortion is an option - if you were willing to enjoy the practice, then you should be mature enough to deal with the end result, and if you're not willing to accept the consequences, then keep it in your pants. It's not just a theory, I'm pro-life having accepted the consequences of my own actions. This is my opinion, you may disagree, but I am allowed to believe this.

In the letter was a single quote from Emma Beck, a woman from Cornwall who took her own life after being unable to deal with what she had done. The quote was her suicide note:

"I should have never had an abortion. I see now I would have been a good mum. I told everybody I didn't want to do it, even at the hospital. I was frightened, now it is too late. I died when my babies died. I want to be with my babies - they need me, no one else does."

Except instead of the shock factor that this was meant to inspire in me, what I actually did was relate entirely to what she had written. I regretted my actions, and still do. I too told everyone I could that I didn't want to do this including hospital staff. I begged and pleaded to be allowed to go home and was told I was just feeling nervous and it was probably the hormones.

Agreeing (termed loosely) to a termination not just left mental scars and horrific guilt but left physical scarring in my uterus which when I met DH caused us to lose our first conception at 7 weeks and be told I was unable to carry a child to full term if conceive at all. Proved them wrong though - even if pregnancy was a little fraught.

Let me get really quite honest here. This child that I conceived was not done so in a stable loving relationship which is the ideal, and where our two beautiful girls found themselves, however it was also not a drunken encounter. I can pinpoint the exact day of conception - I know what happened. I've already blogged about my less than wonderful ex. This particular encounter happened after a weekend where he had been clubbing. As was usual for weekends like this there had been a lot of drugs flowing and he'd partaken in all of them. I remember I'd not gone out that weekend, instead had spent the evenings visiting my friend and her boyfriend who led a much more sedate life. So after a weekend bender, there was the usual come down which generally meant a foul mood. It's not like it was a massive surprise, but something happened to spark it off and he lost his temper. Enough said. I suppose he thought it was a way of making up, but I wasn't interested and feigned sleep. By that point I used that trick more in hope than anything else. I remember distinctly saying I couldn't because I'd had antibiotics and the pill wouldn't work and being told to shut up. And spending my floating time up on the ceiling hoping that the pill would be effective.

Obviously, it wasn't. And I ended up discovering I was pregnant and it never crossed my mind that I wouldn't want the child. The downside came when breaking the news. At this point it may be worth a confession that I've not made before. I had fallen pregnant like this once before, however an argument served to remove any decision required of me. This time a choice had to be made - and it was his to make as my body was no longer my own apparently. If he didn't want it, it wasn't going to happen. Why did I not shout for help? Well, in my way I did. I told as many people as would listen I did not under any circumstances want a termination, but not why. No-one knew why I was going ahead anyway. I saw no way out of where I was and knew f I left it would be far worse. Instead, I denied that this appointment had been made and even as I was being driven there refused to accept that the doctors would let me go through with it. I was hysterical as they prepared me and begged to be let home, instead they left me in a room with him where I was 'persuaded' to return and do as I was told. I may be able to forgive him for being a violent, drug taking shit, but I will never forgive him for leaving me with this guilt.

Now the people who do know about him and the termination have said it was for the best. That bringing a child into the world in that situation would have been terrible. But how about an alternative? How about if someone had asked me without him in the room if I had free will? How about when they saw me in a gown covered in bruises below the neck, asking if perhaps I needed someone to stick up for me? Or at least asking the obvious question. How about when a year later I wrote an email to BPAS telling them how awful my experience had been, just responding. There was an alternative. If someone had just noticed, I could have asked for help.

What I have now with DH and the girls is amazing and I know maybe would never have happened without what happened in the past, so if nothing else, the good thing to come of this was for me eventually to find happiness with a wonderful man and have the chance to prove myself a worthy parent. I understand why she would want to take her own life, my difference is that I do have people here who need me, they don't lessen the guilt, but they allow me to prove myself a better person than I was back then. Maybe some of this goes to explain why I can't bear to hear either of them cry, and feel the need to randomly hold them even when they wriggle away wiping the kisses off.

Memories Past

I know I've done my blog for the day, but perhaps I feel I missed out something which has been dwelling in this bizare litle mind of mine. With preparations for Rememberance Day around me I am made aware of another date which I usually make every effort to forget, but I think for once this year I am going to take the time to remember someone. Death is life coming full circle, and should be expected, but however obvious the signs may be it always comes as a shock when it finnally arrives.

All of us fully expect to lose our grandparents during our lifetime. By our late teens most of our elder generation have passed on. Not in my case. My mother has a full set and my Dad still regularly hides from the chastising phonecalls from his father. And so, for me my rememberance in actual fact falls with a particular person. For most the loss of an elderly family member is an accepted fate, one which saddens us, but leaves us fond memories. One is not expected to grieve their loss for many years as 'they had a good innings'.

So this is why dear reader, I find it dificult to express in a rational sense why the feelings of loss of this particular person still haunt me. I find it externally ridiculous that despite many other confessions, this is the singular blog which has brought me to tears. I feel that I should have accepted this loss as a part of life, except when my Great Grandmother pased away I grieved not only the loss of a grandparent, but that of my singular maternal figure. This seems harsh to my mother and hers. However, as a baby screaming with colic, it was Nanny who would hold me and walk me up and down until I slept; as a young child Christmas did not start until she arrived; when my parents screamed at each other, it would be her who sat me on her lap and talked to me about when she first saw me; I was 'her holly'; it was her who showed me how to press flowers or would take the time to watch me rush about on the lawn or spend frustrated hours teaching me how to knit; it was her who gave me my interest in music, singing old songs to me. It was Nanny who told me about my mum's real dad and how he had died - she explained to me how terrible it was for her and how she carried on because she still had my mum and then me. She accepted open emotion and at the same time showed amazing bravery - I remember spending countless days with her cuddled up being told what it was like when she was little (she was born in 1902), and then during the war when my grandad was born. I remember how soft her hands were even though they were worn and wrinkled. She was a champion knitter and no baby in our family went without some form of knitted object from her - all of these items were lovingly pressed under the seat cusions of her sofa. She read The Sun of all papers and refused to have a bank account, instead storing all her cash in her wardrobe which we found when we had to clear her flat. I remember her headscarves and how she smelt, and how she would wash her hair every sunday in the kitchen sink for either me or mum to set in rollers. I'd taken it for granted that she would be at my wedding, and see my children as they arrived into the world. I guess at that point I thought she would be here forever. She didn't get to see either, but I'm pretty sure she would have approved of the outcome of all three.

Why am I doing all this now? Because 14 years ago, she passed on and since the day she left us I've never spoken out that I have all of these memories. These were mine alone to keep safe. And she should be remembered. When she passed on was the point in time where I learnt to suppress emotion. This only occured to me after much blogging. Don't talk about it because it just upsets people. You don't want to upset people do you? No-one wants to see you cry. Don't be sad. Then other things happened, and instead of telling people, I didn't upset people, I wasn't sad, I made sure no-one ever knew. Well, now they do through here and so this also becomes a safe place for these memories.

But I haven't forgotton, I know this, our first child was named after her for just that reason. I refuse to forget. And I'm doing this now, because next weekend is her birthday and I wanted to pre-empt that day before it hits me and have my short time to remember and accept that I do still miss her and yes that does make me feel sad, and even after nearly more years than I was able to be part of her life, she continues to remain in my memory. So for Charlotte Rosina Edwards, Happy Birthday xxx

A Rather Changing Day All Round

Right, bollocks to it, I'm not editing any of this one. I'm just typing and pressing Publish.

Massive events happening across the Globe - US election which deems to be a bit of a historic event. Barak Obama actually won. I'm actually rather impressed. I didn't think the idiot Americans would pull it off, but it seems that they may have possibly outvoted all of the gun toting, cross eyed hillbillies that the media has been interviewing for weeks (before you hunt me down and kill me, I am perfectly aware that not all Americans are like this).

So other than stuff from the other side of the water? Well, today also saw my return to the office, if only for half a day and my subsequent return to stick a hot water bottle on my back and cringe for a while. If we're being rather honest, it was more like get back to car sit down, wince, go home, try not to get emotional at not coping for longer. Meh. It'll take time.

So what of the crazy? Well I've been much focused on getting back to work. All the energy is going into there instead. I'm trying not to think about things as it all seems a bit, well, small and ludicrous compared to the bigger picture. Perhaps this is my small space to let me have some time to acknowledge it. I enjoyed the ranting, so I think I shall continue in that style, so as before to people in general, people I know, and randoms:

I'm not going to hurt myself, I've already learnt the hard way, and that hurt. Rather a lot. I just want to be back to normality!

I'm in pain, I'm not a retard, quit talking to me like one.

I've told you already, LISTEN TO WHAT I AM SAYING (and do as you're asked). I will just bin all of your toys and Santa can deliver you a lump of bloody coal.

Your ex is a psychotic pathological liar bitch queen from hell with no conscience or thought for others - I agree, but if you're not going to take any action and divorce the mad cow then I am not going to listen to you bitch and moan about her.

You there. Yes You!!! You won't get a date unless you get yourself out there. Now go the fuck out and find yourself a proper woman. (I love you btw, and I only say it because you deserve to be happy)

You may accept all the emotional blackmail in the world from your family. But it's going to stop with you. Personally I don't give a rat's arse whether your mother approves of my lifestyle or not. I'm a grown up. Care to join me?

What do you mean you aren't voting for him because you can't say his name - it's even spelt phonetically! People like you should not be allowed oxygen.

Who in God's name gives a child 200g of sugar filled, coated and covered jelly sweets?!??! Or lets them stay up until who knows what time of the night?! For fuck sake people how did your children survive???

Their = possessive There = place How hard is it to grasp just the basics of the English Language? How did you get a degree?! And don't get me started on commas.......

It's pronounced 'Far Hee Taas' NOT fucking 'Faa Gee Taas' - Spanish. Stop being an idiot.

The gelatinous mass of the c-section area is not attractive. When you can call blaumange attractive, get back to me ok?

Why why why must we keep every item of useless crap that you find anywhere ever? You don't play with it. You don't even know what some of it is! Just put the bloody thing in the bin.

But he DID actually sleep with her. The man might be a prat, but he wasn't lying. Just accept that she's a slapper, so is he, but he managed to make a joke out of it first. And let's face it - it was quite funny. And anyone who openly broadcasts themselves online as a Satanic Slut isn't exactly maintaining their appearance of chastity. It's not like she's not making a mint off the back of all the outrage (goodness me, it couldn't possibly be outrage for profit could it?? What will people think of next?)

I'm watching the news...... I know you like cartoons..... I don't know who that man is..... I can't tell you what he's saying if you won't let me listen.... that's the president..... of America..... he's in charge of America....... a long way away...... that's his house........ yes it is bigger than ours........ yes Daddy gets to be in charge at home...... no Daddy is not a president........ I'm watching the news

You chose to date the man. You knew about his past, fuck you were part of it. So why the hell are you bitching at me? Did I ask for involvement? I am not a marriage counsellor. Try confession.

You know what? If you don't like the guinea pig you tell the heartbroken 4 year old she has to give him away. Don't make me the bad person just because you're being a grumpy arsehole.

AND QUIT FUCKING NUDGING ME!


Ahhh that's better.


And for my female readers - none of that was aimed at you xxxx

Digging Deeper

I edited this post after a bit of thought... it wasn't really fair. Revised:

So yesterday's little rant was met with more acceptance than I was expecting, and a little less paranoia. This is a good thing.

Just mooching through facebook this morning and I came to a realization that I have spent the past 5 years attempting to live up to a variety of women in Tom's past (oh for God's sake, let's just use names, it's not like anyone reads this. DH = Tom). He has this clever trick of being amicable with basically every girl he's ever dated or placed on a pedestal. To a few of them, he was a bit of a shit actually, and yet his misdemeanors have been forgiven. So where I have a handful of people who I'd rather avoid and a couple with more than a little animosity, he has a list of 'friends'. In reality, I should be comforted by the fact that a) I'm his longest ever relationship b) he chose to marry me c) I'm the mother of his children and d) despite the first three we're still stupidly in love

However, despite all of the rational arguments above about why I should feel very comfortable I still desperately try to measure up (in my head) to those that he placed on a pedestal. So let’s look at the line up and give an explanation. It's not that I worry that he'll run off with any of them, it's not that, it's more that perhaps I just don't measure up to the people before me - and for those of you involved, take it as a compliment
Ok, so seeing as I'm bound by OCD, I'm going to tackle each one in turn and explain my fears. That way I might convince myself I'm an idiot.

Ok, so I'm going to tackle the ones that in a rational person's mind could actually be seen as a threat (e.g. the ones he actually dated!!). That seems a good start.

Ok, most obvious I guess is DC. You can't ever compare to someone's first love and let’s face it she's hot and funny and thin. I could be forgiven at this point to be wearing a slightly maniacal grin and be digging a shallow grave, except instead she's also my best friend. The cow had to also be one of the nicest people on the planet. But he would have done anything for her, including following her like a lost puppy through various other reprobates that she dated and holding onto the upset from them breaking up until shortly before we met... yeah like I didn't know that. That makes her sound bad, and it shouldn't as he made his fair share of mistakes too.

So H. I'm probably more aware of her as an ex that anyone as Tom and I knew each other while they were dating. She also has all the trademarks of benchmark for the next girlfriend: she's pretty, skinny as a rake, a socialite, 5 years younger than me, but maybe a little um... what's a nice word for psychotic? Demanding? But other than that, she had top marks in girlfriend ratings.


Oh god. Where do I start with J? Um, ok basically post DC (I think - I get rather confused with the timeline), he lusted after her until, well, well into when we dated. I met her once or twice and instantly could not see it - she's classically pretty and although not gothy in the slightest, is definitely 'his type' even if she is a Roedean girl and utterly off with the fairies on a whole different planet.

Well V is easy to explain - he moved out because he was lusting after her. Then we got together. The stupid git even told H he liked her while they were dating (he nearly didn't survive that!). This is another conundrum - I really like her, she's a real laugh, and lets face it she's possibly the scariest woman on the planet (secretly I reckon that's why some dated her lol)

And then, well DF. This one's no secret, but out of all of the line up DF & DC are the only two I see as still up on the pedestal. But Sam was on a pedestal for a long time and they're still close. With her there's a lot to measure up to, and in many ways I think I probably fall a little short.


So there we have it. The list of people to measure up to. With a couple I'm not so sure I do. I know this is my own little insecurity to work through, but perhaps by actually listing what it is that I feel insecure about, I might start to see that perhaps I am a little irrational? Maybe.

What is it that makes me insecure? In no particular order and in various combinations, with some, it's their undeniable ability to become stick thin with either by not eating or without any bloody effort after having children, with others they're incredibly pretty, others it's because they're intelligent and funny, and others they have a past together. Most of them it's a combination.


Does anyone else see a woman with a statement on her arm she doesn't really believe? I guess if it's on me for life, I ought to start believing it.
Eventually, I might believe it, for now I'll accept that I can at least see I look ok sometimes and I'm ok with compliments. They don't make me want to curl up anymore.

I could do with a hug today.

Erm...

Alright time for a post - the last one was a bit of a moment. Except momentS reverberate for a while. I was enjoying being up on the cloud, it's meant to have a bungee rope (what goes down must come up), except I think I forgot to attach the hook to my belt. I'll float back up when the subject is dead and buried I guess. Now, just how to do that.... I guess the time has come to do the express the anger thing, not just over the blip but the stuff that isn't coming out.

I guess I'm taking inspiration from another blogger here, but his rant was rather talented whereas I think mine may in fact just be abusive! Read no further without a stiff drink:

So in no particular order to those people around me, the kids, people I meet, people I know and other randoms:

Why can't you actually say what it is that you mean rather than smile and nod then get all defensive when I carry on? What am I a fucking mind reader? Instead I'm becoming oversensitive and constantly paranoid that I've done or am about to do something wrong. This has to stop, I've lived this life before.

I'm NOT a people person, following me around talking at me incessantly is likely to make my head spin. Can you people not understand I have personal space??? ....... And talking of personal space, when the lights are out, don't come in - I just can't be happy and bubbly all the time, it's just not me. Sometimes I'm busy screaming at people inside my head, if I don't do it silently I may very well go postal, you want to be first? Do you? Huh?

Just because we slept together does not necessarily mean I want to add you on facebook or for that matter ever talk to you again. Perhaps some things are best forgotten eh?

You know what? I still have some things that are actually mine and that you haven't broken yet. Stay the hell away from them. And while we're at it, stay out of the bedroom. And no, you can't have a glass of water now.

Talking of breaking things. It's not fucking acceptable just because you are having a bad day. Do you see me chucking stuff around? No. Get a grip.

Maybe I just want to talk about nothing. But perhaps just perhaps, me saying 'I'm fine ta' means 'for Christ sake give me a hand out of this hole'.

Why must you insist I take it easy then bombard me with requests for decisions. It's the decisions that make me bloody stressed in the first place!

If I state an opinion, then it's MY opinion, you might think it's wrong, but an opinion isn't a statement of facts is it? I might think you're an arse, and I may be right, but it's still my opinion!

When I say something or ask you to do something, for crying out loud, just for once in your life just fucking listen to me! Yes you. If I have to tell you repeatedly for an hour or more, this may indicate that you're not listening, or I'm not getting my point across - I've asked you nicely, how else would you like me to make myself clear? Ad Campaign? Marching Band? A Big Fucking Stick?

Was wasting 6 years of my life not enough for you? Instead you must continue to stalk me like a demented nutcase!? Go find yourself some other poor bastard to upset because YOU DON'T SCARE ME!

No - when I say it, it's the final word. No is a negative it means cease and desist, pack it in, not going to happen. It's not up for discussion, I don't need a reason. It's NO.

When you are sad, it's ok to rant at great length as many times as you want. I'd rather hear the truth than some sugar coated don't upset Holly version or worse nothing said at all.

IF YOU LOSE YOUR DUMMY, DON'T YELL AT ME BECAUSE YOU CAN'T FIND IT!



Oooh get me with my anger issues. So what did that solve? Bugger all really except to make me worry that some people might read this and take it to heart and perhaps highlight that I do get angry, just not to people. That and I have a remarkable ability to swear via keyboard (rather shocked at myself with the language there!). Well that sucks.....

There are moments I think I shouldn't have passed the parent test. Maybe I'm like my mother. Perhaps sometimes I'm just too selfish to give up my life to be mummy. For their sake I need to learn some composure and tolerance. They don't see the frustration outwardly, I learnt that much from my mum. But I worry that they pick up on me being miserable and useless. My only up side is DH and at least they get to see how a relationship should be. They do see affection and DH and I talk, we don't shout at each other. They'll never sit in their room and cry while their parents tear into each other. I just need to work out how to show them how to be happy (and maybe whinge a little less).

Oh and because I worry, for a certain person, the only one applicable to you is the penultimate one :)

Life Is Flamable

Sometimes I forget when putting up all these decorations that nothing lasts forever. In my happy little shiny place, in my continuation of warding off the dark I began to light candles. These little lights of sparkly happiness shone so bright that I forgot that I was in the hole.

Except in my enthusiasm to enjoy every minute of the bright shininess of being in love (if we're calling a spade a spade here, that's what it is) I forgot quite how easily the misplacement of just one candle can in minutes burn down all the decorations I've adorned the hole with. And now because I was an unthinking tit, the decorations are gone and I'm standing in the middle of my hole looking at the mess I created. In case anyone still reads this: I'm sorry. There's loads more I want to say, but not on here

Post-Facebook: There is loads more I want to say, I don't know how to say it. I don't want to reply with all of this because in the end it's just self-absorbed ranting. Here perhaps is the test of whether or not I should have gone through all of this soul searching. I can hold a light for other people, but on my own it's dark no matter what people may think. Life is full of what if's. And now, having opened my heart, in a second I've managed to hurt the people who hold it. And now it's open no matter how much I scrabble I can't seem to get back behind the wall that protected me from this for so long. Unedited truth: here I am, desperately trying to choke back tears that I can't seem to stop because I can't make myself stop feeling and I fear that my lights have gone away and I'm going to be left here alone in the dark. I was a fool for hoping the cloud would last. I should have learn't my lesson the last time cloud 9 evaporated.

Epilogue: Scrap that - I'm a muppet. Others joined me in muppetry. Although I should thank the one non-muppet involved here.

Cloud Hopping

I've no need for massive blogs. Today has been a succession of good things (we'll put the stabbing at physio to one side here... just pretend that didn't happen). DH is in a wonderful mood.

I've set aside my insecurities for a while to accept the fuzziness of my short lived insularness. But just for today, what I wanted to say has been said, and to the right people.

For now the hole has been redecorated with flowers, fluffy toys and a big soft duvet. I can see it's still there, but I prefer to just see the decorations for now. And it's the soft focus of comfort that sooths away the sad and instead of adjusting the lens, I've finally learnt to accept and enjoy the haze. Mentally I feel held and kissed better.

Sunshine and Flowers

There are points in life where it is actually possible to live in denial of all the yuk that happens elsewhere in the world and just become insular and content. Today is one of those days. Last night contained proof that I do have the ability to make people smile, properly smile from inside and that cuddles are actually the most important thing on the planet. Fact.

Within my bubble, happiness prevails and I wear a contented if a little hazy smile. You know what? - I've even embraced my age today.... in true tongue in cheek style... found this on youtube... mwaahhhaha






Check the smile <-- aside from the fact that I can't get up too easily and it's sunny, I feel like standing out in the rain and feeling it pour down on my face - not for any emo type reason, more a happy dancing in the rain type. I am feeling again and it's good. Time passes me by with speed I can't keep up with, but I feel like I've finally taken root somewhere. There are certain people in my life grounding me, keeping me secure and giving me the space to accept the highs and lows so I float through them instead of pinging into them with the velocity created by the elastic band that is my self-denial :)

And as for unnerving messages from unwanted sources - I don't care if you post scary pictures online of you looking like a meathead. You don't scare me anymore, you just proved that to me, not quite what you were hoping for :p

Waging War Against Myself

I have been set a mission today. To keep smiling for someone. Until about 10 am this was easy - I stayed still as requested, but now having dealth with 3 full hours of whining from the small people I'm verging on homicidal. But I'm finding myself stopping, coutingto ten and reminding myself I should be smiling.

There's so much that needs doing at home, there's a pile of washing in the kitchen basically blocking the view of the machine and the tumble drier is broken (laundrette helpfully closes beofre DH gets home) so even if I can get some clothes in, they have to somehow dry by hanging them around the house. Where the f*** is all this laundry coming from? I finished it all last week! The kids are bored and destroying the house and I can't reach the floor to clean up (I have attempted asking the small people to help, but today they have decided to take advantage of the fact that I can't physically make them do anything). Thing 2 needs a nap, but I can't do my usual and cuddle her until she settles. So today I suck at parenting mildly more than usual. I know I'm meant to be smiling, but at this exact moment in time what I want to do is just walk out the door. Obvioiusly not going to happen, not that I'm actually any use to the kids, but they ought to have an adult in the house! That and I can't walk. This is utter frustration.

Post Rant: It's interesting how small things can keep you afloat. DH in his infinate helpfulness has spent his lunchbreak sourcing some airers and by giving the drier a bit of a smack it has had a new burst of life! With the prospect of ridding the house of the godawful washing pile, my mood has improved. DH has been feeling the pressure the last few weeks - especially this weekend. Taking over the house stuff like cooking and generally clearing he's been a wizz at, but where on a general basis we share the child stuff, he's taken over with most of it which has ended up with him having the kind of head spinning demandiness that I get on the days at home with the kids.... the 'DaddyDaddyDaddyDaddyDaddyDaddyDaddy" every five minutes or as soon as your bum hits the chair is wearing him down. I know exactly how he feels with them being constantly demanding as I get it every week and it drives me to distraction. It just happens that they're both being particularly demanding at the moment so he's been wearing the same shellshocked expression as me for a while.

After a mildly better night's sleep last night he's certainly in a happier mood - So maybe I may employ some uber painkillers and do some well earned snuggling.

And me? Well, physically I may be falling to pieces, but I'm happily balancing that with that promised smile. DH being more openly affectionate has me melting into his arms without a second thought. And then there's also the permenant set of butterflies in my tummy and this tingly glow in my head. I've moved into this fuzzy place in my head where mentally I'm being held onto tight with the occasional kiss on the top of my head. This is a good place. It feels nice to feel at ease like this. From it's current sources, love is.... unconditional.

A Sense Of Peace

I think my facebook status says it all. I'm glowing.

I think I found the answer - By digging my heels in and revealing myself to the world as actually who I am, I have inadvertantly done a bit of human weeding. Those who don't belong have been highlighted, and the precious few wildflowers of friendship have been able to flourish. With true colours of me and those around me on display, it makes a beautiful garden - and even if it only lasts a season, I'll have this image of my garden forever. Thank you everyone.

Maybe for once I may take the plunge and attempt my own inspirational ending....

Words Said, Heart Open
Comfort learnt in love unknown
True happiness found

Odi et amo, quare id facere forasse requiris...Nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior

Translation: I hated and I love, perhaps you ask why I do it...I don't know, but I feel it and I'm tortured



It's fitting, and not as negative as it suggests. To feel deeply is a new experience, I am experiencing a greater depth of feeling now I have banished many of the demons and while the passionate side brings great leaps forward in terms of my feelings for others, it has also allowed me to experience the other passionate side of me which is an occasional all consuming self destruct button.



To accept that one cannot be present without the other has been and is a struggle. Although less so than many weeks ago.

Tonight I find myself left alone to my own devices as DH and DP dissapear to their manly activities at the gym (I'll admit mild jealously here in my motionless state grrr). What to do? A bath means I'll get stuck, the TV holds little interest, and WoW, while holding my attention requires time sat at the PC which frankly hurts! So instead I shall imagine my ideal - I wish to be curled up around a good book under a blanket while snuggled up to and having my hair stroked and hand held. Simple things to please a complicated woman.

The Truth And Nothing But The Truth

I'm going to make an attempt at a mildly intelligent analogy. It's far too easy to make a sweeping statement that you feel like a black hole and you're sucking the world in with you, but before any such massive statement is made, perhaps a little forethought is required.

As a link of note - I've taken the myres briggs test more times than I care to remember. Each time with the same result: http://typelogic.com/infj.html

A black hole by definition is a region of gravitational pull so strong that not even electro-magnetic particles (or light as the rest of us noobs know it) gets sucked in. As an analogy that works rather well for my darker moments, this seems to fit - moments like yesterday seem to engulf all of the progress made and suck everything into them turning them invisible. But a black hole is not in fact black - it is devoid of all colour. The only thing which serves to bring notice to it's darkness is the brightness around it. In which case darkness where there is gloom all around appears less extreme than in cases where it surrounded by light.

I wasn't sure today whether I should actually put down in black and white what the wibble was about. But having done some soul searching, the point of this is to get out the crazy, not write worrying that a few people may read this and get offended so holding back. The wibble had been approaching all week. I've spent time this week considering where I lay in terms of those around me. I'm sure others have read my blog and walked away with words to the effect of 'good grief, what a self absorbed procrastinator' and it's been a lesson in realizing that maybe no matter how much I open up, maybe some people won't actually ever understand where I'm coming from.



I've tried to take advice from a few of the people who read this and have offered advice. Some advice has stuck, like keeping a few 'princess moments' for myself - this has maybe relived the guilt of feeling a little selfish sometimes. And yet from others, I can't seem to sit right with their theories. I will admit that shallow people often appear happy, and maybe they really are. Except I'm not shallow. No matter how hard I try to be, it would just be a mask. I'm trying to walk away from being something I'm not and the person who I actually am deep down cares deeply about how people feel, has a need for approval, wants to make things better, listens to music that touches her so much it makes her cry, berates herself for not doing enough for everyone. There's more to me than computers and shoes.


More than anything recently I've wanted to believe in people. Some people have fuelled a belief that there are other people out there who are also capable of occasionally taking off all the armor they've accumulated over the years and standing open and venerable to whom instead of the expected new scar, I hope I've added some salve to the wounds. And in return I have also allowed myself to be seen stripped bare of all protection. This state, while with some has been a way of closing old wounds and reducing them to old scar tissue has left me open for people to unconsciously create their own scars. It was for this reason that I decided to return to a semi permanent masked state.


I'm not sure that I've explained anything at all there. Without deleting that, try again, actually say what I mean. And without beating around the bush for a change.



DT has wandered off into her life, physically around more as she drops her life to help me out but she is royally dumped upon from a great height by her partner's ex and copes admirably. Here I will not lay my mind on her as, despite the fact I know she's got some broad shoulders there. There remains the fear of judgement and I'm not ready to be judged.



Hollow (and I have an idea of who you are btw, I'm not sure if this was intentional or not) continues to provide philosophical debate and he leads me to question whether if you dress up the word sad with many extra syllables, is it not the same feeling only with more intellectual flare?


DC (and here I mean no offense, but I need to let out the crazy), well shiny happy people often confuse me. Our conversations have moved from the mundane to the downright obtuse. Any subject requiring thought or in depth analysis is off the menu as firstly she's currently off with the shiny faeries and we differ in our opinions quite wildly. This is not to say I don't think she is a lovely heartwarming person, I am just aware that perhaps we are chatting behind a curtain trying to avoid all the touchy subjects and appear to have an aura of pleasantness. This doesn't sit well with me, I'd just prefer people to state their actual opinions - there's nothing wrong with having a differing opinion if you accept that other people may want to state their own. If anything, it does people good to discuss why it is that they think another way. It's like trying to dress up a mangled old tom cat in a cute hat - see that look? there I am.


Following on from Graduation where my mother decided she was too busy with her VIPs to come take a family picture, I've accepted that my parents live in a state of denial and have distanced myself a fair bit.


With this on my mind, Tuesday was ended with me worrying about DF having a dip. More than anyone, DF has been a mildly bemused spectator to my emotional rollercoaster and has been given all area access to my weird little mind. In previous 'moments' she has listened to me and let me work out the stepping stones while stumbling over her own with a fair bit more grace and dignity than me. Tuesday, she was untying a lace that had got caught up. Sometimes people can be very stubborn and by combining this with a few hormones, what was a message of insulation became one that was misinterpreted as, well if we're calling a spade a spade, rejection of friendship (I did say I had a weird little mind, and maybe am just waiting for people to come to their senses). Having made laid myself open over the past weeks to various, this became the focal point of all of the above.

It was in fact a combination of everything that had created the dip, but I focused it on this one sole idea that I had allowed myself complete openness and venerability which in my mind at that point had been left back alone to ponder itself was a difficult one. I am aware of the feelings that I may stir up from admitting all of this and I'm really sorry. I'm slightly more concerned to admit that for the first time in over three years I cried myself to sleep.

Before you embrace any sort of reaction my dear reader, consider this - why am I writing this today and not yesterday when the feelings of self doubt were at their height? It is in fact because there is a moral to this story:

Crying about being emotionally hurt is a positive step. Emotion released, and it served to remind me that perhaps a part time mask is a general requirement. DC is happy, who am I to deny her that? Perhaps the problem is in fact mine - it is me who misses my old friend who openly shared her thoughts with me and prior to my little escapade had never offended. And as for DF, we spoke at length and realised that perhaps we share the same fears about being wounded if we let our guard down. I won't put the mask back on in this case, but maybe we'll accept that the stepping stones are easier if we stop each other wobbling sometimes. Funny how these things happen. So I'll leave you on the wise words passed onto me by someone who knows:

Worry is like a rocking horse - it never gets you anywhere

Just when you think all around you is stable and you know where you stand, the goal posts are moved. I thought I knew where I was heading, but people are changing all around me and as they change so do the masks they wear. So excuse me if I climb back down into the hole for a while, I forgot to bring my mask. I can't do this everyday without the bubble I built around me. It hurts too much.

Before you judge, this is progression, this is self protection.

Happiness Is....

Cheesy Videos ;)





This one might be a bit geeky :S

Meandering Through My Mind

Tuesdays often serve to leave me deep in thought. With a particularly cuddly youngest, I have time to write my thoughts and begin to play with Photoshop so it seems.

So do I have any? I'm not sure. After a few months of pouring out every intricate detail of my life has left my mind a little empty. It feels quite good not to have nasties playing around in my mind. Except I still have a desire for peace, not in a turn off the noise way but in the sort of imagery way. I've had a really vivid dream for the past few days that I'm on top of a huge suspension bridge and I just spread out my arms and let myself fall. I never land, I either just fall forever or sort of float. It's not a scary dream, and this morning as I woke up with DH's arms wrapped around me it was like he'd plucked me out of the air.

Physical contact is easier now more than ever, and has become a source of comfort. It's still limited to a few people, but I don't feel like I need a full metre of space all the way around me constantly. Snuggling with DH is now daily. Shows of affection are no longer forced, but instead the simplest thing like my hand being held seems to create a physical manifestation of the mental connection. It's a strange process, it's been like rushing my way through growing up all over again, which makes sense really.

Pessimism is an excuse for not trying and a guarantee to a personal failure

The title is a Bill Clinton quote. I'm no politician, but I do follow political events more out of morbid fascination than anything else. The claims some policticians make are almost laughable, but occasionally one will speak publicly from a place that contains belief and passion and it occurs to me that not every politician is corrupt, if they were nothing would get done, just perhaps there are a great deal of people out there actually following a desire to do something to benefit someone other than themselves. I can't change the world and have no intention of trying - what I have discovered though is that if I can make life a little bit shinier for people around me, they pass on that shininess. Nice idea eh? Except one thing - people have to be open to accepting that shininess. And you know what? That's not up to me. My responsibility ends with producing the shine and accepting (or not) the affection given to me by the people who chose to.

DH and I sat up til the wee hours talking last night. This stemmed from a conversation about his insecurities which in terms of body image rival mine. We spent ages talking through why it is that we have worked so hard to ingrain this almost dismorphic idea of how we look. He is assured of his self worth intellectually, but finds massive fault in the shape of his torso. To this end he feels the need to spent much time working out this issue at the gym (quite literally). The point I'm trying to make here is that he has a body shape and that most of this issue is actually in his head. But should it change? Should we try to change this? From my perspective the photo here is as visual as we're going to get with my figure. DH likes this photo, but what I see here is all the bits I hate about the reverse of me, and don't get me started on the front.... But should we change? Perhaps this self doubt is actually a positive thing. Maybe the awareness of averageness grounds us, prevents us from becoming to self assured and reminds us to take a good hard look at ourselves before we criticize others. It's humbling to remember there are many people out there just as worthy of praise or more so out there. So surely I hear you say, this should make us more tolerant of others. Maybe, I agree that people should be free to live their lives as they wish if they cause no harm, however my personal intolerance for people stems from my desire for lack of involvement. Let others live as they wish and leave me in peace. People may do things that I ethically disagree with, but who says my way is the right way? For me it is. If my conscience is clear, then for me it works. For someone else, my way of life may seem ethically wrong and they are entitled to think that. Opinion is just that, not fact, but a personal thought process. It's only a majority view that makes something wrong as 'fact'. In the end every action must boil down to our own conscience.

So if I need to quantify where my self worth lies, how would I do that? Easy. Over the past 5 years a few instances of proof that I am able have cropped up.

The picture on the left is DH and thing1 - DH should take most of the credit for this one. He was far more maternal than I at this point, but despite people questioning our ability to effectively look after ourselves let alone another living creature, this tiny little blotchy squidge of a thing has turned into a scarily intelligent little person who astounds me daily. She turns 4 in under 2 weeks and the most important thing is that not only has she managed to survive us as parents but she's a happy and confident child. We're doing the job we wanted to do - that is to keep our issues to ourselves and not pass them on down the line (hopefully).

And after midget1 arrived, DH and I actually got married. In all honestly I'd wanted to since we met, and the whole thing was blubbery and emotional. He cried all the way through our vows and the whole thing was a dream - except that afterwards things were just better. Not because we had a piece of paper and a few photographs, but because we'd made a commitment to each other and knew that we both view marriage in the traditional sense. Once. That's it. I'll accept that there are many people you can connect with, even that there is more than one soul mate out there - I'm pretty sure of that, but when you choose to marry someone it's for life. DH and I chose to love and support each other permanently whatever that entails.

After the wedding thing2 arrived with surprising haste. This was the first image I saw of her. In fact for a couple of days this is the only image I had of her. She was a scary baby with her not breathing thing. But she revived my maternal instinct and from the minute we were allowed near each other we bonded. DH had a few more issues doing this, later on he admitted it was because he was terrified that she'd slip away. Instead she has stayed small, but makes up for it in lung capacity! She's healthy and happy (and angry.. but meh she's 2) and we were responsible for that.

Now we can be proud of these mini victories, but does that make us different from anyone else? No, actually. Tonnes of people do the self same thing on a daily basis. We're not unusual. And ok the kids are average, but to us they are the most special people on the planet. There are a few others who describe themselves as distinctly average - I think perhaps my long and prattling point is that in the grand scheme of things, maybe they do phase into the crowd, maybe their insecurities serve to ground them, maybe to the world at large they make little difference, but to me they shine like the most beautiful stars.

Pull Yourself Together Woman!

What a miserable git I must have appeared last week. Consider myself kicked ;)

Pain continues to be a bit of a focal point in daily life atm, however the light at the end of the tunnel is not another train! I have thumbed my nose at the NHS and it's apparent incapability to book an urgent appointment within the same fiscal year and swallowed all my pride and gone private. Lets face it I'd rather have no pride (or cash) and function! So physio begins on Thursday along with an epidural injection which promises to give me mobility, or at the least some pain relief!!

But what of other things? I have been catching up on a fellow blogger's entries having stayed offline for the weekend. There's something about reading this particular person's entries that makes me more determined to be positive. Maybe I should accept that as a general rule I just don't like people and the few I do like are the more important ones. Seeing DP in absolute turmoil this weekend was painful - I'd planned to spend a quiet evening cwtched up to DH maybe with a large bit of chocolate cake between us. Except I received a call from DP, with the female situation in his life, I saw the same pain resonating from him as I felt when DH and I had our blip. My only possible reaction was to invite him here, and despite giving up an evening of cwtching, I don't regret it, being able to just be somewhere he can run to is worth a lot. Sounds weird doesn't it? I know he ends up being the butt of many jokes, but deep down I have an affection for DP that runs very deep. He's an unusual man in the fact that he wears his heart on his sleeve and it's a refreshing change from most of the world. He brings out my maternal side and I feel the need to protect him from the rest of our group of friends when they start being mean. Perhaps what they don't realize is that his self esteem sucks - it ought not to (ok ok pot noir) - he's had crappy luck, but when he meets someone they're going to be bloody lucky.

On another positive note, we worked out seeing DF & DM again. We'd been saying we wanted to spend a weekend away together as just us somewhere near our anniversary (this means swallowing the parental guilt and abandoning the short people with my parents) and looks like we're going to. Last time we went away I did the ridiculous panic thing over my job and tainted it. This time we're going to spend time together with additional people to poke me into submission if I attempt to fret lol. So many reasons for biting the bullet, DH needs a break, he really does, and without the kids he can chill out without being on constant alert and maybe even sleep! I may release on here, but maybe what people don't see is that he has just as many self confidence issues, just not as apparent. I think perhaps what I don't tell him enough is that he really is a wonderful father and the perfect husband - any non-superhuman would have flipped living with me and the kids by now!

I read a friend's blog earlier and came up with a very strange comparison. She worries herself with the idea that she worries about those around her too much. Considering our shared faith, I would have thought that acknowledging the needs of those around you even if you don't like them or have no idea who they are is an intrinsic part of life. Maybe I am one of these mysterious 'people' too wrapped up in their own lives to notice others. Maybe I am and don't know it. Except I am aware that I'm sensitive to outside influence which is a slightly turned viewpoint on the same theme - since being a little more open, I'm aware I'm far more easily offended and hurt. I take things personally, I worry myself sick that I've upset people or on occasion people say offhand things that I take totally to heart and react emotionally to - I am aware these are the actions of an insane person (or a child), but surely it's better to feel and gradually learn to deal with these little wounds rather than be bereft of all feeling forever? So to those who sometimes engage their mouth before their brain expect tears, I have an emotional L plate on.

Blank Girl

Yesterday's post was one of many undertones. I made a promise to be honest. So here it is - I'm maybe not as ok as I made out. Yesterday was less of a statement more a goodbye, except life still goes on. Maybe it was a mental goodbye to the mask. I am frustrated, and as a general rule don't like the whole swearing thing, but today I will make and exception and I apologise in advance.

If we're being honest, I want a hug. Not just a quick cuddle to make me feel better - I want to be held for no other reason than the feeling of being close. Not a sexual thing, not because of anything, but just becuase the feeling of having our arms wrapped around each other is the most natural thing in the world.

I am so f***ing frustrated at being stuck in one place having to rely on DH for everything. I feel useless and a massive burden. It affects the kids, poor DH is run ragged and all I seem to do is appear miserable. DH mentioned that he wants some time out over the weekend - this is seriously fair enough. He's taken over a lot this week. I feel terrible that my first thought was to wonder why he didn't want to spend time with me and that I didn't want to be left alone again. I know why - I've been at home all week with just the laptop for any communication with the outside world except for when DH comes home, by which point he's shattered or up for nookie, which in this state is sadly lacking. So I am utterly useless and lets face it, lonely. I just haven't told him. I don't know how without making him feel guilty. How am I meant to express this emotion when I know it's going to upst someone? That was always the point of hiding it. I need to go back to work, without a purpose I just cease to be.

May Peace Be With You

I am who I am. Some people accept that, others don't.

This marks a turning point. From this point, if I feel something you're going to know. If you don't want to hear it then don't listen, but I'm not keeping it in my head anymore. So to begin a statement for each person who has touched me through this journey:


To Me: Live life in the moment, stop worrying about the consequences of every action. Start making yourself happy!

DH: I love you more than anything. Each moment together is precious, I imagine us sitting as old people holding hands on the beach.

DC: The new happier you is a blessing. In your pursuit to find happiness don't forgot those years which gave you your depth. As always you are in my heart.

DM: If you find a good wife, you'll be happy; if not, you'll become a philosopher. You my friend are no philosopher! Neither is your wife.

DF: Words fail me. You have my gratitude, my friendship and my heart.

DP: Love may be a fleeting thing, but hold onto it in your heart as those few minutes of love are worth a lifetime of emptiness.

H: Your words of kindness have touched me deeply. Perhaps you will eventually realize that in fact you are not hollow, but in fact full of understanding that so many do not have.


And so, I part from you with a quote:

As contraries are known by contraries, so is the delight of presence best known
by the torments of absence. ~Alcibiades

Deeper Recesses

In my current floaty state of feeling pretty stable, I figured I was probably strong enough to tackle the longest running theme of my life.



Food. We need it to survive, but with me it's not just for survival. At times it's the enemy, other times it's the only way to feel better. The self harm was something that started when food reentered my life in normal quantities. Although there have been moments when the two went hand in hand.



Perhaps it's this week being stuck at home having not been shopping that's reminded me my capability to function perfectly well without the stuff. Yes I've been hungry, but actually i've noticed over the week a few areas have shrunk a bit and I used to relish the feeling of hunger - if I was hungry, that meant I was definately losing weight. Yes I've shrunk a bit over the past few weeks while I was trying to get into the graduation dress and I've eaten normally once DH is at home. This act of shrinking is a familiar feeling and after yoyoing for so many years I'd like to find a level where I can stop feeling the need to shrink. I thought I'd found a happy plataeu, but the wobble still makes me cringe.



Maybe a little background would help you my dear reader understand why this is such an issue. As a child I was a bit of a twig, there's nothing unusual about that. At the same time as starting high school I met my first boyfriend. Here lies the moral of why young girls need so badly to be taught about the difference between love and physical affection. Within weeks of starting high school, this first boyfriend was to become a rather more memorable first. I know now that there was no emotional love between us despite what may have taken place physically. I was indeed dropped like stone. Following this I was convinced that I did not measure up to his new (and much older than I) girlfriend. My way of becoming more attractive was to become more striking - people often mentioned that I was a twig, and this is where it started. I stopped eating main meals, had 'already eaten' when I got home and if all else failed hid any food i was given until I could dispose of it. My teenage diet consisted mainly of a small chocolate biscuit and honey in the evening to maintain sugar levels (which explains why I dislike honey now!!).



This became my mission in life - to be strikingly thin, then people would notice me. And certainly once I hit the much coverted size zero (or what was back then freakishly thin) I received much attention from admirers. With hindsight, maybe that didn't help. When I was at my most determined I dropped my weight to just over 5 stone (5, 1.5 to be very accurate), after I started eating again it crept up until I was over 11 stone (where I was not happy), thing is from here I had realised that eating was a way of making me 'better', so I did and ballooned, although enjoying the food was mixed with guilt which is where the various forms of purging began.

When I met DH I was on a downward weight thing and was dropping about 3/4 lb a week managing this by eating only a yohurt and mints. I thought I looked good at that point and it was a time when I had a lot of fun and was maybe a little irresponsible.



After the kids, my body has once again changed. When I look in the mirror, from waist down, this just isn't me. When I drop weight I start to look a little like me again. My arms are returning to normal and I can see my collarbones again. This will never spiral like it did before. I just won't let it, mainly because I never want my girls to see me struggle with my weight as I watched my mother desperately trying to maintain a size 10 through any means possible, but quietly perhaps I do want to be striking again.

Tears & Chocolate Cake

Advice from a fellow blogger - Like the cake, emotion should happen little and often.

When it comes to physical pain, I am a true woman. I will attempt to continue in true Monty Python knight style. However, with unrelenting pain in my pelvis, I allowed myself a moment of self indulgence where I cried from frustration. At present, no end is in sight and I feel remarkabley useless. Knowing that I need to pull myself together and get back to work tomorrow does not help. A day of attempting to convince my pelvis to stay together while sat on an office chair does not delight me in my current woozy state (the painkillers manage to make me feel light headed and sick while having no effect whatsoever on my bloody hips!). With the combination of restlessness from my inability to find a comfortable place and the absence of any relief I am at the end of my rope. Four years after the onset of discomfort, I long for my youthful body back - the one which I took such delight in ruining. This is my penance for a youth mis-spent.

In drastic contrast, two very separate individuals also brought tears to my eyes today. But not tears of pain or frustration, instead the welling up of being touched by compassion and dare I say happiness. The first, despite no physical connection, composed a poem with me in mind. This was both unexpected and beautiful. Having not been the subject of poetry before, I am immensely touched. The second, having seen my unexpected explosion of emotion over the past few days continued to accept me for who I am and unlike me who is unable to convey the actual words in my head(despite all my ramblings here), uttered the one phrase I have wanted to write these last days. And in response my dear friend, I miss you too.

Sat Still

Being sat still for far too many hours is boring. Fact. Except today I have found I am able to work while lying prone on the sofa - my mind isn't in peak condition so the code may be a little shabby. The pelvis is playing havoc with my not bloody old enough to be in this condition body.

What I have discovered though is that in this weird little black hole I have created myself there is someone else here. Sometimes it might feel dark and scary and when I have my eyes shut so tight I can't see a thing, there is actually another person who is able to reach out a hand and grab a crowbar to beat the monsters with.

I may have been having a bit of an airy fairy day yesterday, but deep down I meant what I said between the many many lines. I don't like people in general, they frustrate and upset me. Mostly, I just want to be left alone. However the rare few individuals who have taken time out to step back and not just see the mask but pry their fingers under it and feel the flesh underneath have been met with the love that only my little girl is capable of. Beneath the grown up exterior, the little girl has been able to offer without fear or embarrassment nor the need to announce it or for reciprocation, complete unconditional love for these precious few. Because she has found the courage to do this, that feeling has seeped over into the grown up who feels less pressured and is able to close her eyes and instead of seeing the things that scare her, feel a peace not felt in many years.

Look up into the sky. Find your favorite star. Now keep watching it until it disappears. It hasn't gone; you just can't see it.

A Ponderous Mind

The last post got me thinking. When considering DH, the kids and those close to me, there are so many different feelings of love towards various people. In my state of feeling rather stable it occurs that love as an emotion is not instrinsically linked to sexual desire, one may inspire the other in some cases, but it is not mutually inclusive. I got emailed this really tacky page of quotes, but actually in that context some of them make much sense.

These were quotes from kids aged 4-6 when asked what love is. And these select few ring very true for me of those closest... Out of the mouths of babes:

"When someone loves you, the way they your name is different. You know
that your name is safe in their mouth"

"Love is when someone hurts you. And you get so mad but you don't yell at
him because you know it would hurt his feelings."

"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired."

"When you tell someone something bad about yourself and you're
scared they won't love you anymore. But then you get surprised because not
only do they still love you, they love you even more."

"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget."