In Space No-one Can Hear You

Things aren't as shiney today. I just feel sad. It's not for any reason, just because, which sucks. I really need to kick myself out of this as I'm at home with the kids and I will not let them see me like this (although I'm aware I'm probably being a crappy parent today). It ought to be mentioned here that I attempted to adjust dosage of certain things yeterday, and this may just be a come down from the happy shiney state I was in at 2am. I state this now as things are a bit black and I need to pin it down on something.

I'm functioning outwardly as normal. Chatting to people, getting on with stuff. But I'm watching from inside my head. What people can see today isn't what's going on (and that's a horrible step backwards, but I just can't seem to actually say to anyone I'm not ok). Right now what I feel is terribley alone down this hole. I've realized now I don't want to be down here and it doesn't matter how light the cloud of drugs that I'm sitting on is, they're not lifting me any higher today.

It's ridiculous really as I feel like some emo type teenage saying I feel alone (Images of Kevin & Perry here). But that's what it's like. I feel trapped down this hole and I know there's people up there who want to rescue me if I only could tell them how far down I am. Except something stops me from asking them for help. It's like I'm determined to make my own pole, except my idea of a functional pole is made from bendy straws that just won't hold my weight.

In the focus on being better and a more functional person I sort of lost sight of my little girl, now she's hidden somewhere and she's forgotten where she is. I had the tattoo done, so I now have 'Good Enough' tattoo'd on my arm (in arabic, so I don't have to tell people what it actually says - if ppl keep asking, the standard response will become, "it says, Wife No.1"). That was meant to be a statement to myself and I appreciate that. Weirdly, it's been quite a good reminder, but it's not helping the feeling of just sad.

I was chatting to DF last night, ironically in an attempt to make her smile (which in turn has the same effect on me). I nearly came out with a scarey thought of recent weeks, but held back. But I guess this space is all about not holding back and getting the thoughts out even if they are stupid and melodramatic. I said I just want to watch the pretty colours - that was a cover up for a bit of a darker thought. What I meant was is that there are times when I just want my mind to be quiet - I want all these ridiculous thoughts and worries to stop. I'm writing it here so I can attempt to get some peace becuase I remember what happened last time I stopped being able to cope with attempting to deal with too many issues at once, that involved a few too many sleeping pills just to make everything go black (and stop panicking, I'm not going to let history repeat itself - this time is different, I have several people who are brave enough to hear the truth when it gets that bad and will if nothing else let me dissolve and just hug me, plus I have the ability to remove the thoughts from my head onto here.... which I guess is what i'm doing). So for those who do get the miserable treat of reading this (why would you!?!) - I'm not ok. Please help.

I'll work out how to continue. I have to, there are people who need me functional and sorted. Which I guess is the silver lining. So here is the kick up the arse I need - now get off the pc and get on with life.

Chicken Soup For The Mind

So, I've had a lot of time to think down in the hole. Sometimes when DH sees me down here I start to fiddle about with the straps holding on the mask, but over the weekend, I took it off and waved at him from the depths of the bottom of the hole. He tried reaching down to pull me out, but right now I'm a bit far away and if he tries to reach too far down, then he'll fall in too - and if we're both down here, lets be honest, then we're both fucked.

Instead, I asked him to help me out with a bit of stability. With all the monsters from Pandora's box stalking around me, I've accepted that perhaps instead of climbing a pole, I could do with a stanner down here. That comes in the form of trying out some chemical assistance. Nothing massive, but these little mini chill pills appear to prevent me from investigating the tunnels under the hole or shooting out of it into the sky.

So what of the little girl? What happens to her when my mind is quietened forcefully? She's still there - she's not so scared, still not ready to face the big wide world, but this calm acts like a blanket around her, letting her rest instead of running all the time. The black cloud is still there, but the rain isn't so important when you've got an umbrella.

And Up Again.... Euphoria Is Singing In The Car

That's it, I have reverted to being a teenager. I have found meaning in the lyrics of a song.... and it's not even a good one!!!! And just to make it worse, I'm going to publish them on a blog! But I'm not crediting them to the artist, it's just too shameful. Suffice to say I have been belting ths out in the car at the top of my lungs :)

I’m tugging at my hair
I’m pulling at my clothes
I’m trying to keep my cool
I know it shows
I’m staring at my feet
My cheeks are turning red
I’m searching for the words inside my head

’coz I’m feeling nervous
Trying to be so perfect
’coz I know you’re worth it...
you’re worth it...yeah

If I could say what I want to say
I’d say I wonderful you, oh yeah
Be with you every night
Am I squeezing you too tight?
If I could say what I want to see
I want to see you go down... with me
Marry me today!
Guess I’m wishing my life away...
With these things I’ll never say

It don’t do me any good
It’s just a waste of time
What use is it to you, what’s on my mind?
If it ain’t comin’ out
We’re not goin’ anywhere
So why can’t I just tell you that I care?

’coz I’m feeling nervous
Trying to be so perfect

......
....
yadda yadda

Oh dear. There is no hope. And people may read into the meaning as they wish.

Hello Up There

I've been happily living in this hole for years. I knew the score. The way you live down here is simple, accept it's dark, when you see the people looking down the hole at you you put on the mask and wave back. When they look down the hole they have no concept how deep the hole is and shout their cheery hellos.

Occasionally someone else falls down the hole. They stumble about for a while not used to the darkness, but soon they either find their allocated shiney pole out and leave or they get used to the dark and work out how it works down here. And well, it's always nice to have some company.

Some people ignore their shiney pole out even though it's blatantly there for everyone to see, instead they dig the hold a bit deeper to see whats underneath. This just makes the rest annoyed because they just want a way out. Sometimes the old timers find what appears to be a shiney pole and they start to climb it. They remember what it feels like being out of the hole. Some of us even manage to climb the pole all the way out of the hole and way up higher than anyone else whooping and celebrating the euphoric height. But just as we get ready to jump off the pole and walk with the normal people, we realise that some bastard has greased the pole and we come hurtling back down into the hole again.

I've decided it's time to stab the bastard who keeps greasing my pole and get a shorter pole.

I made an offhand comment today that actually turned out to be mildly profound in how I feel. I was asked a simple question about faith and responded that I just want to be forgiven, but I don't feel good enough to be. Forgiven for what? I don't know. That wasn't me that wrote that response, that was typed by some small child I've locked away inside me. She's not allowed out much - she get's easily hurt and people will hurt her if I don't protect her with this cold, unemotional front I stick up. What people are meant to see is someone who can cope with anything. Throw what you like at me, I don't care. I AM NOT VUNERABLE.

You want to know what she thinks though? (she being my inner child - this is a metaphor people) She wants to be forgiven for whatever it is that she did. Whatever it was must have been really bad for various people when she was younger to have used her for their own purposes and then thrown her away. She must have done something horrible for X to have been so angry with her and want to punish her. She must have failed in some way becuase since she can remember her parents have had such little faith in her and picked up on her every mistake or shortcoming. She tries with all her might to win their approval or at the least some respect, but they're always dissapointed that she didn't turn out quite how they wanted her to. She tries desparately to be all things to all people in the hope that someone might tell her where she went wrong.

DH came along and played with her, we felt safe with him and he is the grown up she wants to save her. She wants him to make it all better.

Then someone else came along and instead of making us feel safe, she managed to blur the lines between me and this little girl. Suddenly, I'm not protecting this child anymore, but I am her. We're not as separate anymore all the time. Sometimes I don't just know how she feels but I feel it too. It's scarey stuff, but it's enough to realise that my little person needs a hug.

Round and Round We Go

There are some brave people in this world. Right now I'm not one of them. And to ice the cake I'm going to quote a bloody film. Because I don't know what else to say, it feels like the end of the line and I've run out of steam.

"You know, there's too many buttons in the world. There's too many buttons
and they're just- There's way too many just begging to be pressed,they're just
begging to be pressed,you know? They're just - they're just begging to be
pressed, and it makes me wonder, it really makes me fucking wonder, why doesn't
anyone ever press mine? Why doesn't anyone reach in and rip out the truth and tell me that I'm a fucking whore, or that my parents wish I were dead?"

Last stop. Big fucking black hole.

99 Red Balloons

With each post I am metaphorically releasing the stuff I'm holding onto. I'm tying it to a balloon and releasing it into (cyber)space.

I've released a lot of things that happened way back when, and there are still some more recent things that need to be laid totally to rest. If anything this will probably be the hardest post to handle both writing it because it's easier not to go into it and also because the fallout from it involves those closest to me. I think the point is, this is not about punishing anyone, but just stating what happened and letting it all go.

I'm not even sure that it affects me that much anymore. I do know that the fallout from it meant my ability to trust anyone was dented and while repaired, it's still fragile. And from hereon in, let's go for straight talking, I'm not apologising for being honest, but I'm sorry if this is a bit too honest. This is not meant to damage DH's reputation or make people think less of him - this is stuff that happened, and I think the moral of the story is that people make mistakes, it's not the mistakes that matter in the end but actually what you do to make thins better in the end.

Thing 1 was 8 months old. I'd been barricading myself inside my head and doing my usual bubble coping. We were stuck in a flat and DH found himself stuck with a blank girlfriend and screaming baby. I know this all sounds like excuses, but the point is that there were reasons for the next 2 months. The first thing was that DH started talking about people at work, but instead of the usual suspects, one name kept cropping up. He kept mentioning that things had got a bit suggestive, but that's all it was. I thought nothing of it. Then I picked up his phone totally by accident (we had the same model, it wasn't hard to confuse them) and saw these text messages. The ones I saw weren't suggestive, more things like 'you didn't say goodbye, I'm hurt'. I confronted him with them feeling my whole body going cold and he admitted he'd been stupid and had been texting her and had to tell me something. I remember sitting with him on our sofa as he told me that the eve he'd been working late, he'd actually gone up to see her in her office and they had kissed. I think I was expecting so much worse and even though it felt like I'd been stamped on I tried to make it better and said it was okay as long as he broke contact with her. (and writing this post now sucks, as he's just been told he's off out on business today... trust is totally rebuilt now, but bad coincidence!!!)

We carried on walking on eggshells for a few weeks, but then I noticed they'd carried on texting. I think out of sheer self preservation, I blamed her and sent her a few choice texts of my own, A few days later DH sat me down (we were just about to eat and were watching friends), he told me he wasn't happy and that it was over. I know I cried, then to add insult to injury I had to pack up my stuff and thing 1's because it was his flat. I think that stung more than anything. I couldn't go back to my parents, I didn't know what to do. So I went to DT's house and fell to pieces. I don't remember anything other than laying on her bed holding thing1 and sobbing uncontrollably. I know DT ended up telling my parents as I just couldn't bare to tell them. It was over this time that DC and I really got chatting properly - she sent some amazingly supportive messages and encouraged me to get angry rather than self destruct. Even a couple of DH's closest friends bowled me over by turning up on my door and supporting me - something I never expected, or encouraged tbh - I still thought he should have his friends around him.

So, over the next few weeks I spent a hell of a lot of time with DT and generally attempting to function on a daily basis. I'd moved back into my parents house and was sharing a room with thing1. I'll admit to driving past the flat in the hope we might bump into each other (thing1's nursery was directly opposite so I wasn't actually taking a detour). After a few weeks we started talking again and DH said that he wanted to patch things up, he still wasn't sure how he felt but he missed me. At that point, that was good enough for me. I was going to stay living at mums and we were going to try dating, and well it just felt right to fall back into bed together. we'd even gone out and had a family photo thing done with the three of us. On the Wednesday morning I considered 'popping in' to collect some more of my stuff, I dismissed it as being neurotic and needy. Perhaps I should have with hind sight. We had planned to meet up on the Tuesday, but apparently he was going out with some guys from work so I went over on Thursday instead. When I turned up, there was no indication of anything wrong weirdly after having spent some time being rather close again, I was sitting on the sofa and he just left his phone next to me - I've never worked out if he did this on purpose, but I picked it up as a message came through. He was in the room, so it wasn't like I was being sneaky! He was wandering around doing stuff as I sat on the sofa with the world crashing around down my ears. Here on his phone were texts saying how great Tuesday night had been and will he stay over at hers next time from a girl from work (different one from before). I asked him who she was and when I got the response' no-one' I handed him his phone and repeated a couple of the messages to him. I went into self destruct and figured if I was going out it was going to be with a bang, so I told him that seeing as he had been sleeping with us both this week, she had a right to know. He refused to call her, so I did. I used his phone to call her and tell her exactly what had been going on then handed the phone over to him. From accounts, the shit he got at work was in some way a minor revenge. I had finally had enough at this point and told him exactly where he could stick it - then headed over to DT. I couldn't cry, I was so angry I had no clue what I was doing. So we did the next best thing, we gothed it up and gathered up the guys and went clubbing whee I got so massively drunk I ended up pole dancing (bad idea in a posture collar btw) and throwing myself at a friend who really didn't deserve to get mixed up in it.

When the club closed I sat on the beach with him and just talked until some ridiculous hour of the morning. We'd kissed in the club and with my head full of blinding pain and alcohol we decided it was a good idea to return to his house. The only thing is when we got to the front door, I just couldn't do it. The idea of sleeping with anyone else than DH was just incomprehensible. So I let myself into DT's house and curled up on the sofa.

Weirdly that weekend, I spoke to DH. Having told him where to stick it, I was ok talking to him. I was no longer desperately seeking signs that he might want me back. And yet it was now that he'd actually realised what he'd done. He apologised and asked if we could meet up. We went for a long walk and I asked him to give me his version of events. I probably gave him mine over the course of the next few years. He apologised lots. And did everything he could to rebuild the trust we had before. He will still openly admit now that he was a complete fuckwit for those few months and I know it upsets him to think that it still hurts me now. He did everything he possibly could and I did forgive him and I was right to, he's proved that now. Six months later we got married. By then it felt right, but on the weeks running up I did have my doubts and by then I was 5 months pregnant with thing2. Why did we get married? Because we loved each other - and what happened over those few months was an almighty blip - we spend a lot of time talking about things now and in some weird way his moment of being a total arse possibly meant that we communicate better now. As two people we're actually closer now than ever, we understand each other in detail which is maybe why it was so easy to forgive him. He was in his own version of self destruct, of all people I should understand that. At his core he's a good man, occasionally a bit of a tit, but at his essence he is my 'one'. Of course these are events that will never be conveyed to smaller people and actually from here I want to let the events go and just like other things, draw a line and say 'now you stay that side'.

Now you would think that recent events may have freaked me out considering the medium of communication. Actually, it's done the opposite. Texts are now good, rather than bad. So I have certain people to thank for that even if they had no idea what wounds they were inadvertently healing.

What Goes Up, Must Come Down

Fatal physical flaw in this title. Yes, if it went straight up, it would come straight down - but what about when other forces are at work? Think of a rollercoaster, it's a struggle getting up the first bit then the velocity created by hurtling downward at such a pace makes the next climb a bit easier. So in fact, it's what goes up, must come down, but it'll come back up again ;)

I've been going through one of my old diaries - specifically the one I wrote when I was seeing someone about my head (if we're going for total truth here, he was a clinical psychologist and I was marched in there after I decided to go on a bit of a valium holiday - for general reference, opiates aren't the best way to attempt an exit, you fall asleep before you neck enough and frankly waking up while they're being removed sucks). Anyway, I was thinking I'd hated the 6 months I had to attempt to explain my mind to this complete stranger, but seeing as I'm going for self therapy, I might take some of what he said back then on board now.

I wasn't ready to hear what was being said back then, I think I am now, except I'm going to accept the advice from myself this time rather than a pillock with a clipboard. Part of accepting what was going on was to show me my medical notes (at the time I refused to accept that I was in any way depressed... with hindsight, the pills, cutting and little holiday above should have given me a bit of a clue). I think this was meant to shock me into sorting my head out, I just thought they were being over dramatic. Essentially, I was diagnosed with BPD (borderline personality disorder) which sounds really bloody scary and actually after I saw it I refused to go back. My thinking was that if they'd diagnosed me with some scary sounding thing they could drag me back into the hospital and leave me in that weird catatonic state I'd been left in before. So I started the great hiding of my mind from the public in general. I was not ill. I was FINE.

And now? Now I've done a bit of my own therapy, I made the plunge into researching just what BPD is. And perhaps back then they had a point.

"Today BPD is considered a relatively stable personality disorder and is used more generally to describe non psychotic individuals who display emotional disregulation, splitting, and an unstable self image"

So, I wasn't nuts, I was just a bit unstable. Well, yuhuh!! I'm still not going within miles of a medical person with any of this. Firstly, it's true - the drugs don't work, and also I'm not having the label stuck on me. Weirdly, the one thing that I'm trying to shake off to make myself feel better (the self consciousness of 'what will people think') is also the driving force behind me not letting go emotionally and keeping that stiff upper lip. Why don't I cut anymore? It's not because I don't feel the need to, I sit there digging my nails into my hands because if I resort to the old habits, the girls are going to witness a mum openly not coping, DH just looks like his world has fallen apart when I do and I've failed in my mission if I do - 'normal' people just don't do this kind of thing, and I'm trying really hard here to be a 'normal' person.

So what stage am I actually aiming for? What is the goal for all of this? I've caught glimpses of it recently. I'm accepting myself as a person - there are moments I will accept that I have a valid contribution to make and I am capable. That was possibly what going back to college and getting a degree was about - with Computing, I chose a subject that proved to people (me) I had a brain.

Certain people said at the start that I'd get bored and would never complete it, so I reckon out of spite I chose to specialize in programming and passed every assignment from start to finish with a distinction. And for some reason, despit the evidence, I'm still not convinced I'm that good at it. Perhaps what I'm aiming for is a feeling of being at peace with myself. I'm getting there. The ups are more frequesnt and longer lasting than the downs, and the ups aren't quite so high anymore, which means the downs aren't such a contrast and there's not as far to fall. The ultimate goal would be to have a stright track, but I think for now perhaps going on a smoother track is enough.

I Laughed So Much I Nearly Peed... Didn't, But It Was Close

Ok, so I'm amusing myself looking through Lenore pics (which make me happy - 'living the dream!!) and I saw this....

I've finally found the girl I want to be....

Mondays Aren't As Bad As People Make Out

Sometimes it takes a step back to realise things aren't that bad. It's doing no-one any good to worry about every little detail. I started a neurotic line this morning, worrying that my contact with DF is particularly frequent and perhaps she'd like me to sod off occasionally, but doesn't say because she's nice.... This thought has now been banished. Not because I'm not worried about it, but because I'm embracing my ability to force myself not to think about things. I'm not going to ask her (because that just seems weird and needy) so therefore I'm just going to stop thinking about it.

While it's important not to shove things under the carpet only to trip over them later, it's also important to let yourself go. When you go underneath all the layers, ultimately there's a small child in there looking for it's basic needs to be met. Children are natural adapters and when in the crappiest of situations, they seem to find a way to cope and still be children.

I've been making a mental list of all the things I want to do that I would have done as a child that make me feel wonderful but I possibly wouldn't do them now under the guise of 'dignity' or 'self consciousness' or 'being a mum - and that's not what mums do' (now in reality there have been a few things recently that may not fall into this category, I'm putting this down to me embracing my 'me-ness' again rather than playing mummy all the time, that and hedonism).

This was my first step into this - keeping a blog (.net version of my diary lol) and letting select others in (I actually mentioned it to DC today - it would appear that when working on gut instinct, apart from DF, she's going to be the only one I trust with this - I think the only reason I didn't before was that I was worried she'd find it all a bit much. Weirdly I just knew DF was the right person to tell initially, I don't know why, but gut instinct proved right and she was amazing about it all, still is. As it was, today may have been the right decision. DC is now doing the same about her latent issues - maybe I'm not just here to save myself.)

Singing - ok I do this a fair bit anyway, but with the right song, I can actually feel myself breathe deeper and my whole self get lighter. It works best when I sing at the top of my lungs with no self consciousness (think driving to work....). This goes for more playing of the guitar and piano - these things are not just there to dust weekly and I get such focus from it.

Playing Games - I'm not sure WoW counts here. I'm talking sitting around with people playing a game where conversation flows and people giggle at the ones getting far too picky about roles - playing monopoly and selling your sought after road to DH for a snog... it's simple fun and there's not enough of that.

Dancing - there's times when I just feel like dancing with the kids, or on my own for that fact. It's only the reserved side of me that stops me. So bugger it, I'm going to! (once my hips allow lol)

Keeping People At Bay Has It's Advantanges

So, I've shown this blog to three people so far. One is of course DH and the other two, well they know who they are. What I have not done is opened up like this nor told people this is here to either family (no chance!) or the majorty of my close friends. The assumption would be that the first people I would confide in would be my close friends - one specifically who has been around forever would perhaps once been the person I may have confided in. Except there was something holding me back and I didn't know what -this weekend confirmed my gut instinct was right. It's a complicated situation, and because of highly strung people there's no point in protesting about the situation, it'll just cause friction between people (and these people needs no aditional friction!).

This person, who shall be named DT knows a great deal about my life (though technically nothing that's been put down here). After a long and complicated shift in cliques who mingle and who don't (and frankly I'm happy on the outskirts having as little involvement as possible), it's ended up that DT is dating my Dad's closest friend. This possibly be weirder than I find it, but there's never been an issue until now. Yes, I've been put into akward situations where I'm told stuff that my parents aren't and they dig and I have to attempt to dig myself out of a hole. I can deal with this, until DT and my Dad start discussing my life and pasing judgement. My parents have never requested to be let in and therefore never have, and I don't want other people altering the image I've worked hard to maintain. Now written down that sounds like a emo-type teenage rant - but actually, the fact that my Dad then took me to one side to discuss her 'concerns' just felt like a breach of trust and they were ridiculous little things anyway. Plus I'm nearly bloody 30 and am perfectly capable of runing a house, holding down a job and bringing up my children. I feel like standing up and shouting "let's see you maintain a relationship, get a degree and a decent job with two toddlers in tow." - I am aware that's slightly childish (understatement), and thus why it is written here and I am outwardly maintaining my dignity and the peace.

I think my point is that having confirmed to myself that I was right not to trust most of those close to me with what's behind the mental wall, I feel a bit disconnected. So that's one more brick in the wall keeping people out.

Induced Happiness

Happiness appears to be putting things back in their box and burying them. After all the digging up of festering skeletons over the past week, I made the conscious decision to put them all back in their box and bury them properly. I've acknowledged that they were there now and having decided to leave them alone now I feel lighter. I slept last night for the first time in a while without waking up startled.

I'll admit that the painkillers could have a small part to play in this, but I feel relaxed and at ease today. I have certain people to thank for listening while I prattled on. But today, my head feels like it's in cotton wool and the stone that's laid on my chest for the last ... um ... at least few months (although i'll admit to having been a little highly strung for the past few years) has rolled away.

This is a statement that things in the past are now being left there. The past cannot be changed and it would be stupid to ruin the present because of it. Unknowingly I have surrounded myself with people I can feel close to - and I've taken the plunge into openly trusting people after such a long time. It feels good.

The Pandora's Box Of My Mind

So having opened up Pamdora's Box in my head, I suppose I'd better address some of the monsters crawling out of the trap door....

Umm. I supposed to be venting here about all the stuff that's swimming around in my head. Except it's all really abstract. I've been a miserable git today, but I'm not sure if the flashing stuff in my head is because I'm fed up with being in pain or if it's actually stuff to deal with. If I'm concentrating on something, it's ok, but as soon as I stop my mind decides to go back to my 'big vent' post and chucks up these stupid flashbacks of stuff that happened. I have no control over it and it's driving me a bit loopy. I was driving home and lost concentration for a sec - all I could see was being back at the flat and some of the arguments (loose term that... I never shouted), I keep trying to work out why I used to go after him when he sulked. What idiot, knowing someone has a temper, sees someone sulk and follows them to apologise and make things better. It still plays on my mind that I must have just wound him up by not just leaving him alone. But then sometimes I wasn't near him so.. who knows.

Since getting stuff out it's dawned on me why I've been so desparate for another baby - and the reasoning behind it just backs up not having one (other than i'm intensely crap at being pregnant). It won't solve the guilt I harbour about the past. It won't stop the termination from being true, and it won't take away the guilt that I have because I didn't stand up for myself, it won't make up for me neglecting thing1 when she was tiny (DH took over as I fell to pieces and couldn't bond with her.... ), it won't take away the image of being in labour with her - bits of that have come back now - I can remember sobbing hysterically in pain as a woman tried to put a sensor on her head (via a not very dialated cervix), it won't stop me from having gone into labour early with thing2 and wondering if it was something I did that caused it, it won't stop me remembering being left in the labour ward - the only one without a baby and unable to move after the c-section (the morphine wasn't THAT good) and not allowed to see her, it won't take away watching her tiny little body covered in tubes only to be wheeled back off because I was disturbing her, it won't change the fact that I remember every time that she stoped breathing once we were home and DH or I had to revive her while she was going grey, it won't make me a better mother, it won't make me less emotional and more of the hippy type that I aspire to, it won't make up for the weird relationship I had with my mum as a child (although we're trying to make up for it now - it's bizarre being affectionate now and saying I love you when we didn't for 25 years). It won't change any of these things. But knowing that I pin all on these things of doing it properly the next time, at least means I know my reasons are wrong, understandable, but ultimately wrong. (having re-read this I can just picture the german-style psych "so ze problem it began wiz yur muzzer" - oh dear.)

I'm just fed up of remembering. I was happy enough without dealing with this.

Frustration

Working in Arundel I've suddenly noticed quite how wonky the whole place is. With my stupid pelvis requiring me to hobble about old lady style with a stick, all the quaint little features have now become things that make my life a bit more painful! Which is irritating because the place is beautiful.

Thankfully, we're only on the 1st floor at work, but it now takes me a full 15 minutes to go to the bathroom (up on floor 2). And lunch consists of hobbling down the stairs, negotiating the pavements, trying to get into the shop and then back. I HAVE to get better soon - I miss enjoying my walk to and from the car along the river!

And thus ends my whining session (sort of). I'm on day 4 of being pathetically slow and I'm just hitting frustration. Eventually I will shout at someone for treating me like an invalid....... possibley, or I might just seethe in my head.

On the plus side, being stuck at my desk and having DF at work I'm being mightily productive and am powering on through my new project (much happier now I've assigned the evil CMS package to the depths of hell where it belongs... well technically to one of the other guys, but not me haha!)

I had every intention this week of distracting myself with DH and using my new found 'writing skills' - except I'm tiring myself out with gritting my teeth, and with the pain so close to certain other areas, it's mildly like attempting to get turned on while in labour, and you can guess the chances of THAT happening. It's deeply frustrating.

But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,All losses are restored and sorrows end.

Before, you ask, it's a Shakespeare quote.

I was thinking, DH and I had a chance meeting - we got together because of all the similar things we love and yet in personality we are polar opposites. He is solid and down to earth, while I am flighty and live in the land of Jane Austen; He is practical while I am emotional. We complement each other, he balances my extremes.

And yet it would appear that it is possible to find another person with whom I can connect on an emotional level, not because of the complementy traits as DH does, but because they fill the gaps that DH and I don't fill for each other.

I work on a face value opinion most times, I am emotional and work on gut instinct - if I took notice of the gut insinct more often I'd avoid a lot of trouble, but this is reigned in by doing the 'right thing'. Gut instinct is that DF & DM have a similar relationship, and I think because of this, there has been some easy male bonding between DH & DM with none of the usual bravado which is really refreshing. And DF & I have formed this very bizarre attachment. We seem drawn together by experiences and personality traits that are remarkably similar. It's so easy to see why DH was smitten with her when they were kids. She lives in the same state of self belief that I have - she is troubled that I may get bored of her, and I am troubled in the same way. I worry that the boys will find us too full on to the exclusion of them, which is not intentional.

It's a unique situation to have one person who complements every aspect of you with which you can feel almost part of the same skin, and then have someone who understands you mentally who you do't have to explain why you feel, you just do. Empathic is the word I was looking for there.

I can tell DH anything (even if I don't want to, I can) and he accepts it as part of who I am. In return he knows that he can tell me anything and I will deal with it calmly and logically - there will never be a fight where I will throw things at him without reason.

This, to me is how love and friendship is - compassion is compulsary; love is unconditional.

Although giving love ulitimately = getting hurt, better to have lived one day as a lion, than a lifetime as a worm (respond to this and you show your age!)

If You Put Me On A Pedestal, I'll Only Go Down On It....

Sometimes you won't realise that you're going to miss something new that comes into your life. The absence of my message alert now that life has returned to normal is slightly stange to me (although tbh - the minute I started typing, it went off lol).

Left alone with my thoughts for a while, it dawns on me that perhaps my reaction before is that those three people around me to which I have confessed so much and recived the same in return have reacted so well. I feel a little like I did when DH and I started dating. I'm really not this person who copes with everything life throws at me and it's going to be a long descent if people stick me up on a pedestal. My flaws are many and frequent - and if I raise my self esteem and believe what people say, the fall will be much further when I prove myself wrong. Better to be a witty fool, than a foolish wit.

Ow Bloody Ow

So yesterday was a bit of a rollercoaster. Things seem better after sleeping. Point to realize is that the crap that got dug up from the depths is in fact over and I'm in a different part of my life now.


On a basic level, I'd still rather pack it back away and not think about any of it. Life appears easier when all you tghink about is shoes. Being superficial makes life a bit shinier - except sweeping it under the carpet creates rubbish that has to be addressed later. But at least when it's all tightly locked away I can close my eyes. Sleep is easier when you haven't got images waiting to appear.

There's also a niggling worry - DF bore her soul to me last night, and with morning after I want to know that she's ok. Will have to wait for post-work contact. It sucks that after much soul emptying last night I couldn't just give her a hug (glad that DM could tho). She's a braver woman than I am.

So, onto the hips. They hurt - have gp appt later to find out why - general concensus is that the SPD is playing up but when I saw dr yesterday he said my uterus is swollen and couldn't work out the source of the pain. So I'm back in today to get tested. We're working on the basis that it's just an infection - but I guess we'll see later. I'm attemping not to consider any other possibility - which would first of all be ridiculous and an over-reaction (we're heading into realms of anxiety again). It would be worrying about nothing. First and foremost I don't want to be poked and prodded about by a random stranger.

Cotton Wool

Sometimes you can talk an issue to death - other times someone comes along and puts stuff into perspective. Today it's worth remembering it's not what you've been through but how it made you feel.

Every moment is new and to live in the moment means accepting how you feel at that moment. The problem comes when you don't know how it is that you feel. When cards are laid on the table and all you feel is numb. Despite appearances, I'm not actually cold and emotionless. Behind the cotton wool layer that muffles out actual emotion, I know I'm hurting from revealing a raw part of me except the self preservation part refuses to let me cry or talk or show anything externally. Dangerous territory - I know this. That's why it's going down in writing rather than tying to find the underneath layer another way. The image of recognising life by seeing the blood run is an all too easy reality to step into. At points of complete numbness, sometimes it's the only way to recognise there's still a person in here.

I remember now the minute I realised why I found Angelina Jolie so attractive (ok off topic...) - it was in Girl Interupted - she actually embraced emotion, didn't care, and had the immortal line 'when is someone going to ask me why it hurts'. Someone recognised it and did, they understood because their pain is worse, and now I'm not sure what to do. DH does miracles, but he's bias and I want to protect him from some of these thoughts. It's in my nature to put my stuff back in the box and be the savlon on someone else's wounds - except in this case I think it may be mutual.

Not Alone

There are days like today when I get reminded that i'm not on this journey through my mind alone. Most days I know I can stretch out my fingertips and know DH's will touch mine. There are days where I lose my resolve and just sit in the quicksand waiting for it to swallow me. And then there are days like today where I empathise with someone else's pain.

That sounds terribley wrong but actually i've discovered recently that other people who have been there can occasionally make you recognise or even address the lumps swept under the carpet. Occasionally it takes someone else festering in the darkness to take your hand and help each other climb out of the hole.

It's not that other people don't want to help. And give him his due, DH is amazing and has given me the space to heal a lot of wounds. There are just some things that he will never understand without having been there.

There's also the minor problem that he caused a few of them. By cheating before we got married, he knocked a massive hole in my self esteem and created trust issues we'd never had before. I'm done punishing him - he's sorry and he is forgiven. And it would be no relationship if I held onto it, and I would never throw it back at him. But I want to let the paranoia go. Weirdly, our little journey into fantasy land with those who shall be named as DF & DM has alieviated some of the paranoia. We discussed some very personal fantasies and seeing his addressed my worries of what he was thinking. Now there's irony for you!

And as for mine, well it's glaringly bloody obvious i'm not done with the girl thing. The thing is to start talking to someone like that i've had to let my guard down. Sex to me is not, nor ever has been, just a physical thing. It gets inside my head and to get any form of pleasure it has to be an emotional thing too. At which point I have to decide whether to let my guard down and let these people in emotionally. That's scarey. You trust someone with the innermost recesses of your mind, you're opening yourself up for a world of pain. Even just through verbal communication, do I risk forming an emotional attachment to at the very least DF which may or may not be happening from the other side and even if it is, how dangerous is that? Am I risking not just my emotional stability but other peoples? Laying things on the table is a dangerous game - rejection stings when your self esteem has been shrunk in the wash.

I'm torn between staying inside my emotional bubble with just the odd confession to people who are close (this is by far the safer option - you can't push my buttons if you can't see them) or, telling certain people this blog is here which lets them know they're not alone either and confesses all, but kicks a great big hole in the wall I put up. I don't want to be alone in my head anymore - I just think my gremlins will scare people away and then I really will be alone.

The Crux Of The Matter

Lets focus on the proper issue for a while. It’s been wafting near the surface for a while and a few reminders recently have started me off thinking I ought to resolve the issue once and for all. Or at least write it all out in un-mined words and without beating around the bush.

This article cropped up on the bbc http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/7592601.stm . I can see her point that she didn’t think it was worth reporting, I didn’t report what happened to me either. And this is the crux of it – getting what happened down onto paper. Easier said than done when you’re used to waffling around the subject and just dropping hints hoping that someone picks up on what you’re trying to say rather than have to say it straight.

When people hear the term rape they automatically think of man in dark alley jumping out on silly fool woman walking home alone at night. There are other circumstances. Sometimes it’s just a case of having just said no – or even finding yourself in a situation where someone does whatever it is they want to do while you disappear off into your head because the alternative of saying no or trying to stop it just brings a whole world of pain. In those circumstances, you learn to create yourself a mental bubble into which you can disappear while anything that goes on physically can happen without recall.

I got into a relationship with an emotional fuckwit at the age of 16. Being an adolescent bag of hormones I didn’t spot the signs and happily continued despite being aware that he would do things in public to embarrass me, the most vivid I can remember was to twist my arm when I disagreed with him until I was bent to the floor, then laugh at me telling me I had no pain threshold. He’d do it in public, so I thought nothing of it. This moved on to pinching the back of my neck – all playground stuff. There were times when I wasn’t interested and he persisted and I just sort of let him ‘get on with it’ – at this point, I wouldn’t have thought of saying no.

Later we moved in together and things just got worse. My self esteem was at ground zero and the playground stuff had escalated. His group of friends were all into drugs and he introduced me to nights of sitting around taking speed and coke alongside a concoction of prescription stuff. By 19 I was taking a variety of anti-depressants and combining this with coke just to get away from my head. I never realized that it wouldn’t be the physical bullying that scarred the most, but the sexual side. There were so many times that I just wanted to say no, but there was no ‘asking’, more insistence and I would just switch off and switch back on when it was over. What I’m skirting around here is that the act of taking what you want, even if there is no verbal disagreement, it’s still rape.

I got pregnant at 20 and in my weird little mind thought that this would be the solution to all our issues. In fact, he demanded that it was aborted and even drove to the clinic with me to make sure I went through with it. Despite me having a complete breakdown in the room where we were herded like cattle, I begged them not to do it so they left me in a side room with him. I just remember being curled up in a ball and him grabbing my arms telling me ‘we discussed this and you’re getting rid of it’. So I came back out and went through with it. No-one thought to ask me what had happened in that room.

I left just over a year later. I finally plucked up the courage (and asked some friends for help) and left. By this point I had continued with the anti-depressants and started to self harm.

To be honest my next relationship wasn’t all that helpful. I needed to grieve for the loss of the last 6 years and it was more of a co-dependant mess of a relationship (certainly not helped by the fact that this was the way in which I “came out” as bi-sexual). I always wondered perhaps if I had jumped into this not because I was actually gay, but because I never wanted another man to touch me again. I still wonder if that was partially true. Perhaps for that particular relationship yes – it wasn’t a healthy one. Recently, I’ve discovered that no, I definitely like girls – DH doesn’t object to that.

I think my point is, I’ve not been near ant-depressants for 5 years now, I understand myself much better and as for cutting, well, it’s been a long time. It’s not that I’m not still tempted occasionally when the stress gets a bit much (it’s a bit like smoking in that respect), but I’m on the right side of the mountain. Writing this means DH gets a frank account of why I’m so messed up sometimes and I’ve stuck it out there for all to see.

This happened to me. It makes me who I am – it didn’t kill me. It made me stronger. Scar tissue is 10 times thicker than uncut skin. I hear people talk about things ruining their lives, but no, you didn’t ruin my life, you stole years, but not my life, and now I’m going to live it, not to spite you, but because I’ve learnt how to be happy.

Why Would A Person Tattoo Their Forearm?!?

Ok, so what you see here isn't actually the true an authentic real thing - this is in fact a temporary version to 'see how it looks' - but this is the plan for the tattoo booked at the end of the month.

I've been considering having something similar done for a while. Specifically it's to cover over scars that are there from a previous phase in my life. Initially it was going to be latin, but that's only because Latin is pretty. Arabic just seemed a more personal choice. I started to get my head together in Egypt - things sort of progressed from there. So it would seem fitting that the message I'm posting to myself would be in Arabic. The traslation is "Good Enough" - it's a pointed message to remind me to keep believing it as it appears I keep forgetting. True of home, work and relationships. I burn up a hell of a lot of energy worrying about all three - that I'm not doing enough, that I'm not committed enough, that I'm neglecting duties or just not up to scratch. I worry myself into states of stress that are occasionally difficult to handle, for DH, not just me. It would seem that if I put as much effort into worrying about meeting expectations (even if they are just my own), as I do into actually getting stuff done, I'd be a lot more succesful! Which leads on to worrying about worrying too much. Garh!

So in my strange twisted mind, having this mantra of sorts permenantly inscribed onto my body is a way of stating out loud that I finally believe it and won't ever let myself forget again. It doesn't mean I won't doubt it - I'm not kidding myself, but it's more of a reminder, say a skin style post it. Some people pay for therapy, I make my own.

At The End Of The Day, It's Just An Opensource Diary

So, at 28 I'm finally giving in and creating a blog. Being used to writing diaries since my early teens it seems a little bizarre to upload my innermost thoughts to the world at large. Still, I guess that's all a diary is - stuff you want to tell people but never though possible to actually say out loud.

Think of this as keyboard therapy. Prozac by fingertips if you will. There's a lot of filing to be done in my mind and I'm finally ready to tell the world what makes me tick. If they don't want to listen, I don't care - at least it's out there in the ether instead of festering in my mind.

Because of it's open nature - I'm not revealing who I am or who the people I talk about are. That way I can be frank and honest. It's more about discussing the experiences rather than the individuals. That, and I'm no Elizabeth Wurtzel - I don't have her confidence!

So where to start? I'm married to he who will henceforth be referred to as DH ('Dear Husband' for the forum virgins) and we have two beautiful daughters. It is because of DH that many of my past issues have been neatly packed away and I am capable of leading a nice, normal life. I divide my life between being a mum and a professional which conflicts amazingly at some times.

To be honest - right now, life is good. But I think life would be better for DH if I dropped of some of the baggage I drag about with me. So here goes...