I wish I was born in Arizona I wish you could focus on the positives I wish you could believe in us I wish I could show you Ireland I wish you would fight for us I wish you would get a passport I wish I could introduce you to my mum I wish we could get married I wish we could close the distance I wish that I could grow old with you... I wish I didn't love you unconditionally, so I wouldn't hurt like this I wish I was allowed to be happy
Having spent my years to date mostly just existing, I'm more than a bit bored and lacking joie de vivre. Given a recent change in events, I'm now getting ideas of things I want to do. I have some savings too, which should help me to achieve more than I would normally. Thoughts I've had so far are: - Travelling - Overseas charity work - Horse riding - Attending Gigs - Swimming with dolphins - Gardening - Taking courses in things that interest me - Pushing myself out of my comfort zone I'm going to compile a list of around 30 things, and see how many of them I can achieve in the space of 12 months.
I'm at a point in my life where I need to make some big decisions. Being naturally indecisive, this causes me a problem. Then throw in immense anxiety of the unknown, and fear of failure and it's no wonder I'm sitting on my hands. But, I have at least acknowledged that I have to make a change, it's no longer about choosing to do something; I have to do something. If I don't, I'll grow old and die in this cold, damp, mouldy flat, and I don't want that life anymore. But in acknowledgement of the need to change, part of me still doesn't want to because it requires effort, and I'm naturally a lazy individual. The changes I want to make are: - Move into a nice warm home - Get more money coming in through some kind of work - Go swimming because I miss it (and for an unathletic person like me, that is huge) - Change career either through volunteering or study, - Meet up with my friends to remind myself that I'm not alone, - Start treating myself with events and days out - Attempting to improve my diet, by actually preparing and cooking real food In terms of changes that I have made recently, I started doing yoga and I actually enjoy it! So I know I can make positive changes for my own benefit. Now to tackle something else.
As most of you probably know by now, I've suddenly become a first time cat owner. I don't have any real information about my new companion yet, but we're planning a vet visit asap as they were a stray. I'm assuming they are male, but I have no way to know as yet, as we're still somewhat wary of each other and they have very long fur. I'm under the impression that they're under 1 year, partly because of their small stature. They licked the plate clean of the wet tinned cat food I put down, so I'm presuming they're not fussy. They don't mind me petting them, most of the time. They seem fairly relaxed about general noises, such as tv and bathrooms. They're moderately curious, but seem to live to nap so far. They have passed the True Cat Test, by playing with a cardboard box.
In no particular order, I want to: Have dinner with my neighbour, because it smells sublime. I don't know what they've cooked, but I want it anyway. Fly to Arizona to be with My Amazing Man. Buy an obscene and dangerous amount of junk food from the local shop. Hibernate for a matter of months until this lockdown shit has ended. Go camping to get away from this flat and all this civilised crap. Go swimming, because I haven't been in years, and it would make a change from walking. Order pizza again, because I think I fancy it. Scream loudly and probably obscenely, to get out this ridiculous agitation.
I've realised a few things since this chaos started. As there's no particular process involved, I'll just throw things out. I don't have a freezer, which means I can only stock fresh food and cupboard staples. I don't drive, so getting bulk bottled water is no longer possible unless I pay 10 euro to transport it and me. Tap water is safe, but tastes like mould here. I have no social opportunities when the world goes on lockdown. I don't have tv, radio or a console, so I am possibly more bored than most. I'm comfort eating sugary junk, as it's the only thing left that I actually enjoy. Whilst I dislike society as a whole, I do miss my groups. I prefer the world when it's quieter, and I am pleased that the Earth is benefiting from our global lockdown. I'm still stingy, even when my money stays the same, and I no longer need to save. Being beyond bored has had little effect on my cleaning habits. Staying in for extended periods isn't good for my mental health, and I'm starting to really hate my flat. At the same time, I want to decorate my bedroom, as I've lived here for 4 years, and have yet to buy a rug, lamp, or even a pair of curtains. I resent all of the furniture the flat has. Possibly because none of it was chosen by me, and is ugly in the extreme to my eyes. I hate that I pay 450 per month to live in this dump, because my landlord won't accept housing allowance. I also hate that I can't afford to live anywhere else unless I work. The sun is out most days now, and I can't enjoy a walk round the park, or even along the canal because of this lockdown shit. Covid-19 can suck my invisible balls! I want my feeble life back!
Since the lockdown here in Ireland, I have: Hoovered the entire flat in one day, Cleaned the bathroom, Done countless piles of laundry, Moved my bed into the living room, Moved my bed back to the bedroom, Dusted my windows, Watched all my dvds, Spent countless hours online playing games, Spent hours talking on my phone when I should've been asleep, Alphabetized my dvd collection, Moved the furniture around a number of times, Had erratic sleeping hours, Developed an affinity for Skittles, Realised that I longer enjoy white bread, Have eaten an alarming amount of instant noodles, Have eaten quite a lot of cup a soup, Got so bored that I sorted some paperwork, Have started unpicking clothes that were too large, in the somewhat naive belief that I will actually alter them myself.
I'm not in a good place. I'm grieving, I'm hurt, I'm angry, and so utterly utterly lost. So, so lost. My whole world has crumbled. I'm scrabbling around in the rumble, trying to find something, anything to hold on to. I need a reason, I need answers, I need a purpose to my existence and my loneliness. I'm searching in the dark, and grabbing at things that disintegrate in my hands. Nothing makes sense. All I feel is tremendous sadness and so much grief. The life I thought I had. The purpose that was. The compass that told me which way to go. All of it gone in the space of one night. How did I end up here? How did this happen? Did I cause this with my grand plans? Was that the tipping point? Did I want too much? Did I want it too ruthlessly? Did I want it too fast? Was I too focused on the future, that I neglected the present? I feel like such a fool. I feel like everyone around me could see what was happening. They could see the reality, whilst I was blinded by the bright future that was never going to be, no matter how much I wanted it, because it didn't want me.
I can't believe it's come to this, I don't know what to do Cause all my brain is full of, is memories of you. I have no words to say, only questions plague my mind You'd tried to tell me, but I would not believe that you would ever stop, and walk away from me. You turned my world around, and made it brighter too But now all I can see is a hundred shades of blue.
As I'm moving back to England this September, I figured I would make a list of things I'm looking forward to. Decent central heating. I have been so cold here, wearing slippers and/or bed socks all year round! Carpet. This should help keep my feet and house warm. Frequent public transport. The kind that doesn't rely on me having to schedule my whole day around the bus timetable. English shops. The only one they have here is tesco. English accents. Ear porn, this will be for me, as I got far too much enjoyment listening to an English guy at a B&B I stayed at years back. Internet. By that, I mean that I could have a line for it in my house. Sunshine. This one may sound like a joke, given what is said about British weather, but by jove do they get more than Ireland. Or at least frequently blue skies, which is another thing Ireland lacks. Oyster cards. Granted that this one is kinda odd, as I already have a free swipeable travel card here. An oyster card requires topping up. I guess I just miss the beep or something. English brands. I'm not generally one for buying brands, but when you want them and they're not there, it's disheartening. Less flying. When I go to Arizona, I only take one flight there, and one flight back. Instead of 2 both ways. CT visiting me. Very excited for this. I'm hoping he will like it in England. If not, we'll have to make a plan b. Doorstep recycling. It'll be nice to be able to put jars and tins into the box again. London. I know some people may not be keen on it, but no matter where I live, it still raised me and I do love it. Seeing the queen. Not at Buckingham Palace or anything, cos I'm just a pleb. But seeing her on money again will be sort of novel. Using cash. I suspect I will be more cash based, as I'll need change for travel and trolleys. The DLR. It's an automated electric railway that runs through parts of London. It's been a long time love of mine, but I can't explain why. Chip shops. Can't wait to tuck into some fat greasy chips with salt and onion vinegar. Maybe with a pasty, sausage roll or fish cake. Oooo! Chip butty! Now that I'm drooling, I'll move on. English charity shops. Somehow the ones out here just aren't the same. But I couldn't tell you what they're missing. Bonfire night! Another long time love of mine. There's nothing quite like freezing your arse off and straining your neck watching fireworks with a bunch of total strangers. Not being asked where I live, and how long I've been here. The tube. I like the noises of the trains when they pull in, and the beeping doors before they close. I also like the smell they create when they leave the station. Being told to mind the gap is also fun, but they may not do that anymore. Ticket barriers. Not sure why for this one either. Not having to pay for my bank account. Most things being within walking distance.
TRIGGER WARNING-DISTURBING SUBJECTS DISCUSSED Imagine you are a child, and you are alone in a room. There are no windows, and no doors. Very little light. No heating, no food, no sounds, and nobody else there. You are totally alone. How do you feel? Scared? Cold? Hungry? Confused? Lonely? Now imagine that a group of lionesses are in that same room as you. Nothing else has changed but their presence. How do you feel now? Scared? Worried? Anxious? Maybe you are sweating, even shaking. Maybe you are trying to plan an escape before they attack. But what if you can't move, think, or plan? What if you can't call for help, regardless of whether you believe anyone can help you? What if all you can do in that scenario is simply stand still and do nothing? This is how a lot of people would be, and there is no shame in it. Your body responds that way for a damned good reason. Preservation and protection. If you are still and quiet, the lionesses may leave you alone. They may stare at you. They may approach you. They could easily eat you. How do you know what they will or won't do next? These lionesses are not just a representation of one person, or a group. They are also representative of society and systems. Everything from your family, your town, your council, your peers, your workplace. How often do you find yourself agreeing to something, only to later think "I wish I hadn't."? How often do you go somewhere or do something, and look back and think "That wasn't the best place to be, or the best course of action to take." Consent is something we deal with every day. When a stranger asks you to watch their bags. When your boss asks you to do extra hours. When a friend offers to take you out. When you're in an intimate scenario. Wait. When was the last time someone asked you if they could touch you? Hold your hand? Kiss you? Have sex with you? Probably never, or very rarely. This is a problem. It is a huge problem! If you are the person who always says yes, even when you mean no, how does a potential flame know what your yes actually means? Assuming that you even talk about it first! Of course you can say yes and mean it, then later change your mind. But at what point do you then say "Really sorry about this, but actually I don't want to do this anymore."? Have you ever said that to someone? Maybe you only thought it to yourself. Or maybe you froze like you did with the lionesses. Just because you didn't speak out, that doesn't mean you gave a silent consent.
I woke before my alarm (again) this morning, but stalled in getting out from under the snuggly duvet. (Me and my duvet are the best of friends, you know. ) As I lay there in amongst the snuggliness, I thought of my efforts to talk to my mum. I then naturally wandered on from that to thoughts of my gran. For those of you who aren't aware, it was her and my uncle who meddled and called Social Services and gave them our address. I had considered that to be a monstrous act and a huge betrayal of my trust, and I am still bitter about the fallout of it all... But, and it's a big but. What if they hadn't done anything? No meddling, no phone call, no arrests, no psychiatric assessments. Hmm. Then my life today would be remarkably different, wouldn't it? In theory, I would still have Hope with me...and I'd also be living with a violent aggressive narcissist with his histrionic potentially psychopathic family in the background. Would I be happy living like that? No. Though I might have thought I was. Would Hope be in a safe and nurturing environment? No. Though again, I may have thought so. Would I be in good mental health? No. I'd be feeling suicidal, like I was when I was in that scenario. Would I actually be able to keep my daughter safe? No. I couldn't guarantee how any of them would react to any given thing. Would Hope grow up to be like them? Quite possibly. That is a horrid thought which distresses me to merely think about. Would I ever have left him? Maybe, but I'd err on the side of no again for that one too. Would I ever have been free from that toxic situation and be able to find myself again? Maybe, but I doubt it somehow. Would I have found My Amazing Man? If I was still with my ex, then no. I would never have messaged CT. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that even when something looks like a catastrophic volcano of an event...maybe it needs to happen anyway, so that something far more beautiful can come from the ashes.
I have decided to recount some experiences I had some years ago with two different exes. Not sure exactly why. I guess I just need to get it out of me at long last. I was in a relationship with a histrionic narcissistic. An argument began, over what I can not recall. We were in the bedroom, and I sat on the window ledge with the window open. I was debating an emergency exit if things got too much. I started to lean out of the window, and he asked me to come back in, which I eventually did. Things moved on, and he ended up kneeling on the floor bedside the bed with a camping knife in his hands. He was planning to thrust it into his abdomen. I was horrified, and very worried. I picked up the nearest thing to me at the time and threw it in his direction to distract him. The item in question happened to be a hardback book, and it actually hit him. He then interpreted it as an attack, and crossed the room to me. He then had me against the wall, where he threw a punch at my face. He didn't miss, and I didn't duck. I ended up with a split lip, and bruising around my eye. I was in a relationship with an abusive alcoholic. We were arguing about any number of things, as this was an everyday occurrence by this point. We were in the bedroom, and ended up on the bed. I was underneath, and he was on top of me. We were physically fighting one another in anyway we could manage. He then put his hands around my neck, and he starting squeezing. I was in a position whereby there was little I could do. His weight on me had me pinned, and with his hands...I couldn't get them off. All I could do was lay there, but I remember thinking to myself: This is it. This is how my life ends, in the hands of a monster. I will die here and no one will know. I was 24. Biffy Clyro - Many Of Horror:
I've been thinking about how much I hold inside myself, and questioning why. Is it a case of whether I believe it to be 'appropriate' to share my feelings? Is it because I feel others will judge them? Is it because I simply feel awkward for even having them in the first place? I think for me it is all of the above, in varying degrees. I am getting better at the judgement part, though I still find it difficult. Appropriateness is a big one, and definitely feeling awkward. Nobody wants to confess their true feelings to receive a negative response, or worse, to be rejected. But does that mean that we should simply keep things inside ourselves? On the one hand, it sounds like a good idea. But at the same time, it can be damaging. Surely the longer you hold onto something, and/or hide from it, the more stress you are causing yourself? I frequently feel very conflicted, and it causes untold frustration, which I have no way of fully expressing. That's probably why I cry so much. It is the safest form of expression and release that I have. Nobody has ever gotten mad at me because I cried. Quite the opposite, usually. Sometimes it just makes things awkward, but I have no other options. I'm not very good at expressing my thoughts and feelings to other people, especially big ones. This is also something I am working on, but that too is very hard for me. It is essential that I learn to do it, for myself and for those around me. I have this issue with My Amazing Man, and I hate that because it hurts me to struggle being open and honest with him about my feelings. I feel I am in turn hurting him, because he doesn't know that I am struggling with something, because I find it hard to just come out and say it. I'm not sure where this issue of voicing my feelings comes from though. I figure schooling may well have played a part. Perhaps watching my parents not talk to each other about things rubbed off on me, and I assumed that was how you went through life. The funny thing about that is that I know their marriage and relationship wasn't a good example. To that end, I have always been adamant that I wouldn't just marry anyone. When I found Mr Right, I would feel it and know instinctively. I remember Sienna's father asking me after we broke up what my ideal man looked like, and I had no description for him. All I could say was that I would know him when I found him...and I did. Now I even know what he looks like. View attachment 23014
Seems this is the third day in a row I've blogged. Anywho... First day of Dialectical Behavioural Therapy today. Was very anxious, as I mentioned. But, I went, I saw, and I conquered. I couldn't sleep last night, and my stomach was not happy as I'd eaten nothing but junk food all day. Being my stomach, it had to wait until bedtime to kick off though. That kept me from sleep, cos I felt uncomfortable and sick. Decided to get up and got back onto the dino-top, where I was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of My Amazing Man. We chatted for a bit, which was really nice and helped me a lot. I became calm and settled, even happy, and not so tired. My stomach sorted itself out too. Then I went back to bed, but was laying awake again for a while longer with creative images flashing into my brain. That gets me excited and frustrated at the same time, which also isn't conducive to sleeping. I awoke before my alarm (why is that always the way?), but held off on getting out of bed for a bit. Checked in here, and had some breakfast. Went off on the bus, where again I was surprisingly calm considering. I arrived about 40 mins late, I think. I have my phone 15 mins ahead of 'real time' to allow for me to faff*. * faff INFORMAL•BRITISH verb: faff; 3rd person present: faffs; past tense: faffed; past participle: faffed; gerund or present participle: faffing 1. spend time in ineffectual activity. When I went into the building, I couldn't see the reception desk. I then realised it was at the back of the lobby, and obscured by a pillar (I'd sack that designer/architect forthwith ). The receptionist seemed utterly clueless about what I was there for. Luckily I knew what floor I needed, so she pointed me to the lift. Got inside to find that it opened on both sides (I find those somewhat disconcerting), but had a feeling it would open the opposite to where I entered. Turned out I was right. Came onto the 2nd floor and spoke to their receptionist, who seemed a bit more clued in. She foretold of a looooooooong corridor, and said it should be in the last room on the right. When I knocked on the door, I was greeted by a friendly guy, who was one of the therapists. I took a seat beside another Amy, and they just carried on. I felt pretty comfortable, and settled in fairly quickly, which was a pleasant surprise. It was a bit more formal than I imagined. They had workbooks, handouts, and we sat around a large table. It did have more of a college educational vibe to it in all honesty. We talked about mindfulness, had a short break, then did a mindfulness exercise. We sat there with our eyes closed, and had to think of loving kindness: to ourselves, to someone we loved (guess who I thought of ), then to the world in general. I can't say I got too into the self one, but I flew into the second one, and then got dragged into a strong wave of emotions, and the tears flowed out. I couldn't stop them, though I tried. I then decided to just be accepting and compassionate with myself. Feel the feelings, and let them come, but not overtake. It was hard. Especially as at one point, Hope came to the fore. I nearly crumbled entirely, so I had to literally bite my tongue to stopper it. That was rough, because I wanted to mourn the loss of my little girl in that moment, but I knew that wasn't the right time. If I'd given into that feeling, I would've been a broken sobbing mess, howling and in pain like an injured animal. Nobody needed to see/experience that, and certainly not in my first session. When I get those moments, I do them alone. I don't want anyone else to ever witness those moments. They are hard, intense and very raw. It's bad enough having them, without the thought of being watched, or watching someone else in one. Grief is a horrific thing to endure and to witness. My previous grief experience was losing my father to cancer in 2001. I was on strong anti-depressants when he died, so I was emotionally numb when I was told. That screwed me up for a long time as a result. This time, I am enduring it three-fold. It's not just Hope I am grieving for. Her sister Sienna, and the memories that go with that, and my father and the memories that go with that. I'm also grieving everything else at the same time. It's 32 years of repressed emotion coming to the surface, and it hurts like hell. It is engulfing when it starts, and it can last a long time. I often gravitate to the floor, and it physically hurts when I cry. I feel like I am breaking apart, and there's nothing that will keep me together. Imagine being a vase. Then imagine someone swings a mallet down upon you. Over and over, for an untold duration. It's fast, it's heavy and it hurts like hell, yet you are powerless to stop it. Your heart wrenches, your face becomes fixed in a hollow scream. You howl, but after a while your throat hurts and you don't have the ability to make a sound anymore. Your face is soaked and stinging from your tears, and your nose is running a marathon. It's not pretty by any stretch at all, and it's far from ideal. But it is necessary. You must be broken apart completely, feel afraid, raw and vulnerable. It is essential. Without it you will not achieve proper happiness, freedom or a true sense of self.