A Box Full of Braincells

Little islands

2008-11-22T11:29:00.002Z

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

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

Technically harder than it seems...

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

A similar moment last weekend

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

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

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

Ribbon On My Wrist

2008-11-21T20:02:00.002Z

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

18. My life is pretty full.
Totally.

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

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

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

lucri causa

2008-11-20T14:06:00.002Z

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

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

Ultradian Cycling

2008-11-10T20:03:00.004Z

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

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

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

To Blog Or Not To Blog

2008-11-10T10:46:00.003Z

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

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

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

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

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

Propaganda May Have It's Roots In Truth Sometimes

2008-11-06T16:10:00.003Z

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Memories Past

2008-11-05T21:33:00.003Z

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

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

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

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

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

A Rather Changing Day All Round

2008-11-05T16:43:00.007Z

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

AND QUIT FUCKING NUDGING ME!

Ahhh that's better.

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

Digging Deeper

2008-11-04T11:59:00.017Z

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I could do with a hug today.

Erm...

2008-11-03T12:27:00.005Z

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life Is Flamable

2008-10-30T15:40:00.006Z

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

2008-10-29T18:20:00.003Z

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

2008-10-28T14:49:00.005Z

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

2008-10-27T11:34:00.003Z

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

2008-10-25T08:31:00.002+01:00

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

2008-10-24T08:44:00.002+01:00

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

2008-10-23T08:23:00.011+01:00

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

2008-10-22T13:12:00.003+01:00

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....

2008-10-21T17:40:00.001+01:00

Cheesy Videos ;)

This one might be a bit geeky :S

Meandering Through My Mind

2008-10-21T15:43:00.002+01:00

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

2008-10-21T08:38:00.012+01:00

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!

2008-10-20T12:02:00.005+01:00

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

2008-10-17T14:45:00.003+01:00

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

2008-10-16T19:02:00.003+01:00

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

2008-10-16T13:20:00.003+01:00

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

2008-10-15T21:56:00.003+01:00

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

2008-10-15T16:19:00.003+01:00

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

2008-10-14T17:11:00.004+01:00

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

2008-10-14T13:31:00.001+01:00

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

2008-10-13T21:21:00.001+01:00

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.

2008-10-09T18:17:00.001+01:00

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)

2008-10-07T20:11:00.001+01:00

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

2008-10-07T14:26:00.001+01:00

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)

2008-10-07T08:50:00.001+01:00

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

2008-10-06T09:18:00.001+01:00

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

2008-10-05T08:59:00.001+01:00

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

2008-10-04T19:12:00.001+01:00

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

2008-10-04T00:18:00.001+01:00

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

2008-10-01T19:50:00.001+01:00

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.

In Space No-one Can Hear You

2008-09-29T07:49:00.001+01:00

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

2008-09-23T12:51:00.001+01:00

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

2008-09-18T21:52:00.003+01:00

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

2008-09-18T21:52:00.002+01:00

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

2008-09-16T17:17:00.001+01:00

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

2008-09-16T09:19:00.001+01:00

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

2008-09-16T07:44:00.001+01:00

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

2008-09-15T20:17:00.001+01:00

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

2008-09-15T11:21:00.000+01:00

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

2008-09-14T11:32:00.001+01:00

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

2008-09-12T15:44:00.000+01:00

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

2008-09-11T19:25:00.001+01:00

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

2008-09-11T13:19:00.000+01:00

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.

2008-09-10T21:03:00.000+01:00

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....

2008-09-09T15:37:00.001+01:00

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

2008-09-09T10:34:00.000+01:00

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

2008-09-08T21:55:00.000+01:00

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

2008-09-08T13:36:00.000+01:00

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

2008-09-06T18:20:00.002+01:00

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?!?

2008-09-06T16:06:00.000+01:00

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

2008-09-06T12:37:00.000+01:00

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...