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."

A Little Life Assessment

There is perhaps an assumption that there is an ultimate goal when actually when one journey ends, the next begins. If we stand still, we will become stagnant and eventually become stuck in the quagmire of the familiar. Constant reassessment is part of life and fuels me need to constantly and consistently evaluate my life. And so here I am taking a good long hard look at my life and acknowledging some new desires be they productive or not.

The most obvious one is professional - what is it that I actually want to do? Do I want to stay in the same development area I'm in now? Probably not. This is a great starter job - I have creative licence and plenty of space to absorb and learn. But where this job is very much a broad range of skills, I would like to specialize later.

Perhaps in deciding what changes I do want to make I need to evaluate the areas of my life:

As a housewife and stay at home mum, I suck. We know this. My current few days a week when I am in charge of our clan of miniature demons aren't the happiest days for anyone involved. Let's face it, it's probably better for them to have a happier mum who works while they destroy nursery rather than a full time mum who is rapidly losing the will to live. Don't get me wrong, I love them more than anything, but the harsh fact is that I am not a people person and as a mumsy type I fail. To top it off, my ability to simultaneously entertain the small people, clean the house and be pretty for my husband is severely lacking. It's a good job DH is a bit of a new man ;)

Then there is my mildly geeky tendencies. Now here I feel most at ease with myself. I know that software is my area and I'm good when it comes to training and interface design. Perhaps it's the amount of introspection, but I can see how people will use something (or not). My happiness in being a mushroom possibly exasperates my issues above around being a housewife. Where the idea of coding quietly in the dark gives me a warm fuzzy feeling, having a full day of 'why...' and 'did you know' and 'mummy mummy mummy mummy...... mummy.... WHAT!?!... that man has a hat', while I wouldn't give it up for every penny on earth, just leaves me frazzled and clinging onto the ceiling like a petrified cat.

And relationships? Well, I guess I'm not just talking being in love here, I think this bit is all a mesh of my connection with people outside my head. There's DH - my lifeboat in the raging sea of my head. When we first met he was my 'big scary boyfriend', my protector, the man who could wrap his arms right around me and keep me safe from everything. And now - he's the stability in my life, my sense and reason, and to balance it out he's also the one who makes me laugh until I can't breath, he's the one who inspires me to learn more (if only out of a weird sense of competitiveness). I put a line in my wedding speech that was possibly the most open statement I've ever made in public: "When I was little, my mum told me to marry a rich man. In marrying I have done just that; he is rich in humour, love and kindness which to me make him the richest man I could wish for".

And yet there are more massively deep connections via and through DH. I have DT who represents the fun side of life. DT is wonderful for being excruciatingly silly with, but when it comes to life decisions or emotion, it just won't happen. Trust is available when the notion of judgement is not an issue - here I know I will be judged and found wanting. So what of DC? DC is the epitome of what I imagine I should be - she is the image of how I wanted to be as a mother and I can't even be cross with her for it as she's such a lovely person (grrrr). She's one of the precious few trusted ones, and despite her recent journey up the pole and out of the hole she's still there sending notes by paper aeroplane down to me. She'd never believe it, but I see her as one of my most 'normal' friends, which either says that she's closer to normality than she reckons or the rest of my friends are indeed f***ed up lol. DC also manages to be the princess that I want to be - she is able and willing to have moments of reckless abandon that would make me wince. Now with the release of the chain that has been around her ankle for so long she is able to shake her wings and watching her fly is a beautiful thing.

DP is also in my list. He's been there for both DH and I through thick and thin. When DH messed up, it was DP who was there in an instant offering a shoulder and creating a list of expletives to describe DH for me. It was him who made an impromptu speech at our wedding and made me weep. He is a good man. One of the few.

I guess I left DF & DM to the end. Oh god this is complex. Possibly because of the short space of time in which I have known them, but despite this, they may in fact know more about me than anyone else with the exception of DH. Ok - DM, marvelous man, someone able to make me dissolve laughing like DH and in fact DH's alter ego, even down to choice of clothing which frankly just disturbs me. From the off I could see why DF married him. I've witnessed or received a couple of instances of, not emotion, but statements of emotion (one of which was when I got brave and showed he and DF my original blog posts) and these serve to place him in that rare category of good men and someone I hold a deep affection for. And DF, well if there was actually anyone who was mentally more similar to me, I would question their genetics. Except, I can see her every good point (even if she ferociously refuses to see any of them). DF and I made this strange connection which allowed me (and her I guess) to open up entirely without feeling the need to sugar coat anything. Not only did we manage this emotional thing, but were able to fall to pieces in giggles after way too much sugar (and even prior to it), ewven the crappest joke or innuendo left us sniggering. We may live bloody miles apart, but somehow over a short space of time we managed to develop an ability to pick up non-verbally on how each other was feeling. And in massively drastic contrast to every other area of my life, when I felt nervy or slightly sad and a hug was offered I didn't panic and run or feel like my bubble had been invaded, but accepted contact happily. Much like DH, I am able to just be me around her (and DM too) - it's an unusual trait. I didn't feel the need to please, just accepted. It was perhaps for this reason that I allowed myself a rare moment of childlike emotion and let tears actually fall as we returned home.

So what does that tell me? umm... I need to be a better parent or just give in and work full time lol. Perhaps that where I am now really isn't much cause for concern. Not really much to change, and in cases of severe introspection questions of 'what if' shouldn't be asked because 'what is' is really rather good.

What started out as a rational post has actually been a little emotional, but perhaps I ought to quote from a fellow blogger: emotion should be taken like chocolate cake: little and often.

Melancholy is sadness that has taken on lightness

At the end of four days of truly being a full time princess I must admit to feeling a little sore as I crash land back on planet earth. Days have been spent on frivolity and living in that slightly rose tinted place in my mind. Once again home in front of the PC I find myself with so many fond memories that the reality of everyday life isn't as shiny.

I've not been without DH for the past four days - this in itself has been bliss. His everlasting love and comfort wraps itself around me like the softest quilt. On top of this, I have had the pleasure of sharing space with people who without any introspection or second thought have allowed me to fall into step with them. The four of us were able to share this space without any awkwardness or claustrophobia which is so often the dominant feeling when around other people. In addition, the friendship which I had previously considered immensely precious has become more so. My ability to relax and be completely at ease came as a bit of a shock - even DH noticed my ease at being publicly and generally tactile increased. This is no small miracle.

Perhaps a man can measure himself by the number of friends, but I disagree. One can still feel alone in a crowded room, but even if you only have a handful of people who you are able to connect with completely they count for more than an army of acquaintances.

Give me six hours to chop down a tree and I will spend the first four sharpening the axe.

As unproductive as today may have been, it's still been a good one. I have achieved the production of some software that raised my boss's eyebrows in appreciation and I felt like a proper contributing programmer - and to top it all off, tomorrow is my graduation ceremony! Spend months as a graduate looking for a job that pays peanuts? Not me sir!

As for princess moments, I've had my fill today and the more I prance about like a princess, the lighter I feel. On the way to work this morning, having done the usual morning routine (albeit a little later having decided to let the kids play and have a lie in with DH even if that meant being terribly late) I stuck on an Avril Lavigne album and sang along to the whole thing at the top of my lungs. You know what? It's cheesy, unrefined pop with little deep emotional meaning, but it was fun and I was smiling as I walked into work.

My productivity was mildly hampered by being a little distracted with getting rather excited about the weekend too and as DF was at home it turned out to be far more interesting to catch up... oops! Still, I did get the software finished and am embracing my life as a mushroom :)

I'll admit to a strange nervy excitement about the weekend - half looking forward too seeing people, half nervous about the whole thing. Box that up for later!!! It's been a good day and I'm looking forward to posting pics of me in a silly gown tomorrow!

Absit Iniuria Verbis (let injury by words be absent)

My daughters went to bed today, having fully hacked me off by the pair of them being lippy, not listening then icing the cake by drawing on my white sofa (covers in the machine!! Whoever invented washable sofa covers should be covered in oil and fed to the lesbians)... anyway I put them to bed and ceased to read their story as they refused to settle, instead talking over the story, singing and generally being toddlers. As I left, I made a point of giving each one a kiss and telling them I loved them - this is an imporant routine for me, I want them to know that I love them even when I don't like them very much. My response from my 3 year old, was "well, I don't love you mummy" repeated until I left the room.

I am aware that she has no clue of the impact this would have. It was just something she could say to show me how angry she was at not getting her own way. But still I feel incredibley wounded (not that I showed her, but instead am holed up in front of the pc with a nasty lump in my throat unsure whether tears are called for or if I'm just being childish and over emotional).

I'm moving out when they hit teenage!

inter spem et metum

Somewhere between hope and fear. This is where I reside, flinging myself at either with the hope of recognition of life. I certainly think, but I'm not sure if I actually am.

A Posse Ad Esse (from being able, to being)

9am: A few days ago I was clinging onto metaphorical driftwood, over the past few days someone threw me a buoy of perpective and I thank them for that.



Now on a day like today I would usually feel terribley lonely and down as I'm not working, so keeping the shorties entertained and DH has his bi-monthly company outing (lucky bastard) and estimations mean he won't be home until after 10pm. Instead, I'm ok. If anything today is a bit of an even keel - I have a plan!


The front room needs a little more attention and I'm taking the girls to Tescos - I know this doesn't sound like much, but the thought of going into a supermarket with two toddlers fills me with dread so I usually wimp out and do everything online. Not just because they get bored (they tend not to if we sing and chat all the way round), but the dissaproving looks you get when one of them invariabley throws a wobbly, or just being in a place I'm not comfortable with. So today is the day, and I'm just going to do it. I'm slowly turning into a mushroom who either sits in the dark at work happy producing lines of code or hiding inside at home. Today is different. It's an adventure ;)


I have a new mantra from a rather insightful individual: "You can't change the past, but you do write your own future" - I know it sounds like one of those terrible evangelical bumper stickers, but in the context it was given to me, it makes perfect sense. Deep down I know that I am capable and intelligent, I just don't always believe it (or strike always for ever lol). Well, life is running past faster than I can keep up sometimes, so perhaps I ought to try a little belief. This week is a good start, it contains some legitimate proof of my capability, after all it's my graduation on Friday!

1.30pm: I did it, Tescos was done. Made it more fun by going with DT and running about with these bizarre kiddiecar trollies which although impossible to push were great fun. My hips feel like i've done a marathon, but meh. I had to get some trouser bits for thing1 as she has shot up, while we were looking I also got brave and got myself a girly hoodie, like I used to wear. I know I got rid of loads of my cool clothes a while ago to 'dress my age', but I thought sod it, I'm 28, not 82. If I want to dress mildly like a teenager sometimes, then I will. This is me having my princess moment - I am not ready to be middle aged yet and goddammit if I want to wear the stuff I like rather than elegant things and repierce everything on my body, well I might just do that.

Further proof that baby steps are working for keeping an even keel - I got an email through from DH's company letting me know I hadn't got the job that I had much coverted. Initially, there was that yikky sinking, not good enough feeling, but it didn't last long. I'm dissapointed, but hey, I enjoy my job and this just means I don't have to commute massively. It just means my current guys get to keep me;)

3.15pm: Perhaps it's the prospect of spending time with myself, but 3pm seems rather lonely today. The midgets are watching tv and I'm about to address the trashing that has occured in the front room. Weird thing is as the mood lulls, I want to turn to the comforting things - the idea of curling up under a blanket with a book or sinking into a hot bath just seem blissful. The vision of curling up in soft cusions with a blanket and my hair stroked as I fall into unconciousness is an overwhelming daydream. Maybe I've shrugged of this shroud of being a big tough girl and have accepted my need for rescue or at least reassurance.

5pm: Been playing with my poi - not productive in the slightest, and the lampshades took a battering but Thing1 and I had tonnes of fun (for a nearly 4 year old, she has amazing co-ordination!). I've not done it in ages and I completely suck at it, but it seems to be a rather fun upper body excercise while my hips are feeling a mite wobbly. Once their in bed I might try a few of the tricks I learnt - not advisable to weald heavy balls on string with short people with no sense of danger around lol. That and it's oh so embarrassing to smack yourself in the face with them in front of the kids (or anyone else!). Hmm.... toddler poi for christmas methinks....

Monday Ramblings

Pre note to people <-- that IS NOT my arm! It's a pointed message though.

8.45: Well yesterday was a journey into the tunnels under the hole. Caving is not my thing and I don't intend to venture down there again. It was also the first time I've cut in pretty much a year. Nothing major, but still after everything got massively overwhelming the feeling of running a blade across my leg was delightfully sweet - and then ultimately cause people to get upset.

So last night I decided that this just has to stop. I have a choice, I can face my emotions at the surface, be emotional, tell DH and others how I feel and be this unstable wildly varying woman, but the flip side is that in order to deal with the massive emotions that live inside, there has to be a way to cope with them and my way is to take what is in my head and show it physically on my skin. I'm not trying to freak people out - or upset them, it's basically I can't contain what wells up inside, and no amount of talking or crying or smashing stuff will ever let it out; instead if i cut, it releases.

Now everyone seems to think that the cutting is bad and needs to stop (academically I can see this - but in my skewed mind all I can think is 'if it's going to cause this much fall out over a tiny cut, i could have done it properly' - and if that isn't messed up...), but the point is, if that's what they want, then the emotions go too. I can't be this angry and upset without a crash barrier. Initially, what I thought DH wanted was for me to be open emotionally - and I still do, but I'm not sure that he wants the fallout, or rather he wants me to find an alternative coping thing. Short of a bloody great punchbag and finding the ability to scream, I can't see an alternative.

But today is much cheerier. With the crap firmly locked back in it's box, I've downloaded all the weird west end musical stuff I used to sing as a kid. Figured I ought to pull Charlotte out of her toddler emo stage and introduce her to something other than greenday, paramore and the tweenies. And today is going to be clear out day. Knowing that we're off for the weekend, I'm going to put stuff to wear aside, and while I'm at it clear out a few cupboards that are hording crap we don't want or need :)

10.30: There seems to be something about cleaning the house. Once my head is a little more in order, it's easier clear some of the physical crap. Then when the physical crap starts to move, the mental stuff shifts too. They catalyse each other. This could explain why I feel reasonably calm at work - I've made a point of having a totally clear and neat desk. The only thing on there is my pc, a line of books in size order, a pad of paper and a pen - it's neat and makes me feel efficient. So why is so hard to have that at home? Perhaps it's because where I'm confident at work, I'm not at home. I honestly believe that I am a rubbish parent in terms of being mumsy and possibly the worst housewife in the world. I'm working on this by making an attempt at having a clear house! That and I have the pre going away cleaning thing that means everything must be in order before we leave!
Which technically means that I ought to remove myself from Blogger, quit telling the world about my brain and actually get on with it!

11.15: Well I made a start (or a mess.... as can be seen in the pic - this is what it looks like so far!) I decided to attack the kids toy area which is basically under the stairs in what was originally neat crates but has over the months spread into 'the area where we chuck the toys'. So I dragged everything out and re-created what I could, put bedroom stuff in a pile and and ousted a full bag of stuff they never play with. Atm i'm giving thing2 a pre-nap cuddle and hissing at thing1 as she tries to rescue the ousted toys prolaiming how much she plays with them (battle lines have been drawn - we move in three months and I will not take all this crap with us!!)



12.30: Mwaahaaahaa. 1-0 to me! I have beaten the toys into submission, thing2 is sleeping peacefully and thing1 has accepted the removal of old and useless toys. I've even managed to make a reasonably edible pad thai for lunch!







Next target it the bottom of the stairs and the kid's book corner..... loook out mess (see right) here I come with a bloody great bin bag!


I noticed I got a comment from a random follower on Saturday. From an outsider's point of view, they seem to have confirmed my depest fear; that I have got so used to being down a hole that I have started to find it a comfortable place (or in their words 'enjoy it'). The idea that my mind has bent that much leaves me a little cold. I was blaming all this stuff on the little girl wanting to play princesses and trying to give myself a kick up the arse to act like a proper grown up, when perhaps it's her who sees the joy in things. In a really messed up way, I've ended up being totally self centered becuase I was attempting not to be selfish! Maybe I have just accepted that this is where I belong - although it's not so bad down here with my increase in productivity I may even get moved up to an en suite hole ;)





2pm : I'm doing ok - the general idea for the longest blog in the world I was doing today was to work out where my low points occured and so i could stick a foot in the spokes of the rapid cycling. Instead a weird byproduct has occurred: I'm taking these before and after pictures and noticing that I am actually being productive. Seeing each of the areas that drive me insane actually looking neat (and not just compared to the mental image, but what they actually looked like). I have to wonder if this is the key to keeping on an even keel, baby steps and just record the reality instead of my skewed idea of how successful I am at things.

That and I then have photographic proof for when it's all been trashed again by tomorrow!

Right - next bit is a toughie.... sideboard and dining table. Recepticle for all manner of crap and the area which the kids are creating a cocopop sculpture.... Having wallowed deeply in self pity for the past month, this is now what I am left with. I'm looking forward to the 'after' picture for this bit!



3.30pm : 3-0 to me! ha! I was right, that was the toughest bit. If I needed further proof that I'm coping ok (apart from managing to actually get on with it, and keep the kids entertained) but I just put my gym bag into wash after an exploding shampoo incident has left it rather sticky, just as I was about to turn the machine on, I had a sudden thought to check the front pockets for loose change and discovered my mp3 player!!! Gahh - they do not like being submerged in water! My usual reaction would be to berate myself for not thinking to look first, but I just laughed and thought it was rather good luck I decided to look.

So, what next? Well the PC desks need sorting and then there's the dreaded upstairs (although I tackled the kids room & bathroom at the weekend, so technically it's just the hall and the dumping ground which is our bedroom. Considering, I think I may just focus on the washing for the rest of the day and take half an hour out to read while the kids are happy playing. In all a rather good day :)

..... and now back down to feeling stupid and small again. These egg shells are rather fragile.

My Husband, Mr Freud

DH pulled a mean trick last night. He's been waiting for an outward show of emotion from me for months while I've been running stuff through my head. All he's had is the occasional glimpse and a blank wife. The original plan had been to sit down, snuggle and watched this film that had been recommended for it's eroticism (haha like we need any encouragement atm). Unfortunately the over0riding theme of the whole thing was this girl's journey swapping self harm for being a sub. I'm sure in a normal state of mind this could be seen as her embracing her own form of freedom. But where I am, all I could see was the way out is to swap one pain for another.

So DH came up with a plan. He made out (bloody convincingly I may add) that he was really angry with me for something I'd done. The required effect was some form of show of emotion. It nearly backfired, as I did consider for a time just walking. Instead what happened was I broke down. Not just tears, but I curled up and sobbed like a small child. Everything from the last few months just welled up and spilt over. The promise that I'd feel calmer in the morning hasn't worked out. I don't do emotion because I'm scared that once it starts, it's never going to stop - and so far I'm about right; I feel like all the layers have been stripped away and I'm barely holding back tears ever since. With everything out in the open, I feel a bit like old Mr Carrion up there - my survival is based on my being submerged in these nightmares that crawl around my head like worms. Without them, I cease to be me; and yet perversely, at the same time they hold me back from getting on with life.

Life Is A Big Mac

After last night's interesting late night post, I lay in bed wondering if actualy what I'm doing is a self perpetuating cycle. Am I miserable because I'm thinking about being miserable, then because I feel miserable, thinking about it? Perhaps the only difference between people who are depressed and the people outside of the hole is that the people outside have just come to terms with the fact that sometimes life just sucks and they deal with it. Perhaps the only reason for being down the hold is that that little girl is still in my head and she still dreams about being a fairy princess - when in fact, life on a daily basis just is. No, you can't go to the ball, there's too much to do. And prince charming, well, he turned out to be a bit of an arrogant shit actually, and settling down with the farmhand was a far better option, much more in common, and more options for rolling around in the hay lol.

Romance as Holly sees it is a dead fish in the water. Flouncing about being a princess is unrealistic and perhas the part of me that still dreams about being a princess is just bitterly dissapointed that 99% of life is actually sweeping up cinders.

But then look at it from Hols point of view - prancing about like a princess is all well and good. But if you do, then ultimately you're going to end up a wrinkled old queen (and having spent much time in Brighton, I certainly don't want to end up in that state!). Instead why not accept that actually, it's past the age of princess and I'm of an age where I can accept myself as a wanton sex thing and it's becuase I'm a woman who know what she wants (outwardly) and that's acceptable. I can do the office thing with skirt skimming my thighs and stockings up to my armpits. Or I can just accept the fact that I am capable of turning on and being turned on and not finding it out of character or wrong. Perhaps I ought to just accept that now hurtling towards 30, out go the fairy tales and in comes the porn. Women are meant to peak sexually in their 30's, and even if it does mean accepting my MILFness, I'm going to bloody well embrace it and enjoy every minute.

My dissatisfaction can be termed thusly: Life is a Big Mac. The picture looks really tastey, but in reality, though it tastes quite good, it's processed, luke warm, and the lettuce has gone a bit limp (no euphemism intended!)

Masking Tape

I'm getting better right? So why is it that I find myself totally unable to settle and blogging at 1am just to get some peace?

Better is a state of mind. I got a message from someone this evening asking me if I was actually enjoying myself or putting on a brave face. Truth is the only way I managed to get out of the house was to use the 5htp as a bolster for some confidence. I took a few and felt ok - I could chat to people and they helped me feel like I didn't need to be self concisious. I wasn't worried and I could actually focus on the conversation.

I thought I did a remarkably good impression of a human being for most of the evening and actually started to really relax and enjoy myself. There were points where cracks in the mask started to show and just as people noticed, I got the masking tape out (just in time too). At one point the conversation led into what consitutes as rape - and the Helen Mirren story. It was all very jovial with the 'haha are you using this as a projection' to the guy who started it. I suddenly found myself in the center of people discussing quite off hand the one subject that makes me go cold. People were actually laughing about how ridiculous some cases were. It was like being in a dream sequence where all these overdone people float past your head mocking you.

Someone noticed my lack of involvement and mentioned I'd gone a bit sour - ah ha time for some masking tape methinks......

After the meal (at which I watched DH visibly relax - it was lovely to see him just chilling out and having fun with all his old college friends), they decided to head off to a pub. I was damn well going to be brave - knowing full well that the ex was going to be working somewhere tonight I pulled my socks up and just got on with it. Turns out he was on the door of the pub opposite us. I could feel my stomach flip (especially as I know they tend to switch pubs regularly) - we got into the pub which was packed and the guys went up to the bar. I escaped upstairs to the loo, always a good excuse for a girl ;) and hid for a few minutes in a cubicle. I told myself to pull it together and everything was ok. I send a very bland message to DF just saying hi - tbh it was 'hi' roughly translated as 'oh god please invent a teleportation device and get me out of here'. Looking back that just seems really very selffish as it was the first time DH has been out with everyone in like ever. And all I wanted to do was crawl under a rock.

After I got backdownstairs, I installed myself in a chair making sure I had people i knew in front and behind of me. THen I got back to relaxing.

Not so bad really.

The Line Of Division

Now at some point there needs to be a division of these two people who are battling for supremecy inside my mind. I don't want to get rid of the little girl - she is who Holly actually is. She's the one who has no barriers and lets people see how she feels, she can cry, she feels real things. When things are euphoric, it's she who is getting over excited and wants to jump up and down. It's her who wants to twirl around and dance to her favorite music. But she's a bit afraid of everyone and has pnly just learnt to peep around the door frame and talk quietly to a few people. She's even let a couple of them see when she cries.

Then there's the other me. She's the one that people call Hols. She can't be Holly - Holly is innocent and naive. Hols sees the world as it really is. She's the confident one - the one everyone thinks can handle anything. She's the one that people see and reckon that she's uber intelligent and no matter what she does, of course she'll succeed. Other people see her, I've not really met her yet except to use her as a shield.

And yet there are bits of her that I'm starting to get to know. She's also the one who just occasionally confuses herself as Jessica Rabbit and feels incredibley sexy. She's the one who just occasionally really enjoys flaunting her bits, then just when I'm baring all runs and hides leaving me to deal with the fact that my 'actual' figure is on display.

There are parts of both of them that I like and other parts I think I'd rather hide. Neither of them are really me though. They are parts of me. What I feel is null. I feel like I meet these two in passing and I react to how they feel, instead of feeling myself.