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Eccedentesiast Messages.

“Hi! How’re you?”

I have bad days more than good. I’ve fallen apart so much this year that I’m running out of string and glue to hold myself together. I’ve shut everyone out and I mean EVERYONE. Ease don’t take it personally that I don’t talk anymore but I got hurt bad this year because I finally believed in someone and let my guard down a little. 5 years. 5 years I’d known them and everyone said that they were a user and no good for me. They turned on me badly when I was at a very low point and I considered ending my life. So now they’re out of my life but it’s caused a knock on effect and now I don’t want anyone near me. I don’t want to talk to people. My confidence is gone. I just want to stay home and never see people again. People hurt you. I say it all the time and I’m always told that no. No they don’t. It’s just a few bad ones that take advantage. But YES. Yes they do. Time has proved it again and again. So I am quiet. I hate myself. I hardly sleep. My anxiety has presented itself in a new way now… I get the shakes when it’s pushed too high. That’s made me really self conscious. I keep telling myself that I’ll get over it. But when? But I’ll get over it.

“Hi! How’re you? I hope you’re keeping well? Massive hugs.x.x.”

Writing to a song…

Written to a Nickelback song. About suicide and depression because my brain took 8 words of the song and decided thats the way its going.

~…No freedom…~

Dark body

darker sky,

One quick deep cut

say goodbye,

Blood slips down

White sheets turn red,

Soaking into

this once clean bed,

Breathing shallower

barely there,

Empty pill bottle beside you

your almost there,

A ghost walking hallways

in this damn house,

You’ve screamed so loudly

yet your silent like a mouse,

There’s so much noise

inside your head,

You crave the silence

better off dead,

Depression anxiety

you’re alone spiralling down,

Everythings got to much

its making you drown,

Vision is fuzzy

your fading almost time,

Heart gives in to much struggle

flatline,

And your here

stood beside your bed,

Look down at glassy eyes

empty vessel gone dead,

Now you’ll get peace

you smile and say,

But its not gonna happen

things aren’t going your way,

The screaming is louder

there’s nowhere to hide,

The darkness more vivid

everythings on the slide,

You thought you be free

you were so wrong,

You’re a ghost in this houses hallways

and the nightmares know your song…x.

For the girls…

I awoke with a start as light flooded the room, slipping out of bed I ran to the window. I dont know specifically what woke me but as I looked out the wide sash window, the chaotic sight told me the house and gardens seemed like they were the sole target of the raging storms personal vendetta.

The wind howled as it pushed ferociously harder, scooping up the long bench on the patio and hurling it across the dark grass. The rain beat down a cacophony of roaring drums. The murderous sky lit up with a jagged silver blue, zig zagging downwards in a blaze of fury to engulf the large majestic oak tree on fire in a torrent of crackling and popping flames. One of its large branches displaced and slowly being dragged away by the wind, as the once mighty tree released both smoke and fire into the snapping wind. The lashing rain slowly trying to extinguish the flames.

But? In the lightnings brightness? I had clearly seen another horror, the river had burst its banks unable to cope with the torrential onslaught of rain, and was now creeping across the once lush lawn in a deluge of water, mud and bracken towards the house…

BANG! My door hit the wall as it flew open revealing both my cousin, my best friend and my younger sister.

“Thomas…” my sister Amber said fearfully.

“Where are the twins?” I replied whilst striding across the room towards the trio. My best friend Dominic was the first to turn back towards the hall as an almighty crash followed by shrieking and the sound of bare feet, that could be heard just above the din coming towards us.

My 10 year old twin brothers Lucian and Nicholas hurtled past, barging through us and diving into my bed with our frightened youngest sister Blaire.

All eyes looked to me. As the oldest at 22, I had been head of our family ever since all our parents died when dad’s boat sank while they were all on holiday together. Dominic, my cousin Liam, and my siblings and I, had all been left parentless just like that. And being the eldest by 10 months meant that I was thrown head first into being in charge and the one they all looked to…

Lightning again streaked across the sky, ripping through the storm clouds and brightening up the room.

“Shoes and coats everyone. We’ve got to be fast.” I said with more determination and confidence than I felt.

“With the flooded river fast approaching the house, its not safe here any more.”

I said a silent prayer as everyone got their things ready to leave. We would be okay. I am Thomas Kingsley. Head of the Kingsley family, and I would protect us all. I gave myself the pep talk my dad used to give, before grabbing Blaire’s teddy and leaving the room…

So… the above was written for my 2 younger girls. Its was simply to show that you can have “fun” with your descriptive words and not to be afraid of using them. “There are so many easier ways to write that.” My younger daughter said. But her elder sister pointed out that while there may be easier ways to write the same thing? When you write a story? You want the person reading it to be able to see, hear, smell and feel everything you write(love this girly!).

I’m not really any good at stories but hey, I try. While I’m still struggling to actually finish a poem, my drafts section is getting larger and larger and my notebooks pages are being filled, I thought I’d leave you this. Constructive criticism most definitely welcome! Or if you just want to tell me to stick with the poems? I agree! 🙂 I am still playing with words even though I’m quiet.

Massive happy hugs to you all at the other end of the wire.x.

16-05-21 or 05-16-21

Random thing I learnt about USA… the date is written different to the UK. Hence the title. I don’t have a title for this post. Its just Sunday and I’m going to write. I’ve started but have been unable to finish a total of 11 poems over the last few days. Thats good I guess. But as quick as I grasp the words? I lose them and go back to floating here in my empty space…

So here I am… here. Right here… maybe if I shuffle out some randomness, just let my mind run along my fingers and doodle all over the phone screen… maybe just fudging maybe a fudging piece of fudg… yeah… you get the drift… I’m just a little frustrated at my severe lack of me. I say me because to write is me. Words are me as much as music is me and the words are there. The depths of powerful emotions that allow me to write are swirling there because some of these songs I’ve been listening to all day have been pulling at them. I know the words are there. I just can’t release them and it makes me more and more frustrated because I KNOW that they are there. I’ve felt them crash against the depths of me as they’ve ebbed and flowed. Grrrrrr… Growl 😠

Well since I wrote that paragraph above⬆️ I’ve moved rooms twice, whistled the purrbaby to come in the house. We don’t shout him. We whistle. And I’ve contemplated chamomile tea. Why is called chamomile tea when there’s no actual tea in it? Shouldn’t it be called an infusion or something like that? Its after dinner time so it would be the chamomile and lavender one not just the plain chamomile anyway. Yeah these thoughts aren’t going where I want them to. The song just ending is Fire Away by Chris Stapleton. Good song. Today has been a country music day and yep, I’m a Kane Brown fan. I know I know… I herd you choke on your glass of wine at my admittance of liking country… oh?! You’ve got coffee? Sigh… I miss coffee 😔 Black coffee ☕ mmmmm… yeah I miss that. But I’m caffeine free and decaffeinated isn’t real coffee. Oh… ooopppssss… you’re drinking decaffeinated coffee. My apologies. No offence meant. These songs are skipping on and currently none are hitting that spot that I need them to. They will. Given time…

Current song… Highway don’t care by Tim McGraw ft Taylor Swift.

…every time you look my way I drown in those deep pool brown eyes. You laugh, that sexy grin and I can’t help myself but fall deeper and deeper into you. And I see it, oh how I see it, you know exactly what you’re doing with each and every look, every smile, small touch… you lean a little closer and my breath hitches, I lose balance on keeping my body under control as a light shiver runs over me at your bare skin not so innocently brushing against mine, everything disappears around me as I struggle to achieve a coherent clean though. And you know, oh how you know giving me that oh so sexy smile…

⬆️⬆️ written to Kane Brown’s Heaven.

There is kinda so much I want to write but I give up tonight. I’m trying. Thats what I know… I’m trying. I’m trying to find a way to unlock those words and write like I breathe again. I’ve got ideas why I’m struggling so hard to write, but thats for another day.

I will be better. Thats what I know. That what I will be. Better.

Song to finish with… Slow dance in a parking lot by Jordan Davis.

If I could hug you? I would.

I read your words and wanted to reach out but I can’t. I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. Because I’ve always envied you. You’ve always seemed to me to have your shit together. To be strong. I feel like a sinner because I sinned in judging your book by its cover and I should know better than that seeing as I’m usually only hanging on by a couple of threads. I should know better because I’ve perfected my mask for the world so no one sees just how broken I am. So that only a couple of people know I was very close to taking my life earlier this year. I should know better to judge I’m sorry. I’m sorry because its you. And damn reading your words, your posts… it hit me hard. I judged bad. Because I understood every word thats in those posts and I cried for you. Not in a bad way but because I care.

I wanted to ring you, message you or maybe even email you but if I rang? I’d have to talk and I don’t do talking. You might say how’s you? And I’d have to lie and say I’m good and push further into me. Blocking myself off more. You might message something back and then what do I do? Do I reply? If I replied you might ring. If I didn’t reply you might ring. My anxiety building higher as I thought about this a million different ways pushing myself towards a meltdown by over thinking but I can’t help it. I could email you but say what? How do I put it into words that I understand and your not alone and I care and miss you and I’m afraid to and your family and I love you. I can’t. I got stuck in my own anxieties and then got afraid. I failed. So I did what I know… I pulled further inside myself and built another layer around me.

And now I’m here again… Reading again. I want to give you a hug but this stupid touch thing has got so much worse. But at the same time its also weird… there are safe people. I can talk to safe people, maybe hug a couple of them you’re safe because I know your family. Because we spent years growing up together. Because I know you. Because I used to shout at you to get up for school. Because you used to take the piss out of the annoying brat that was me but at the same time? You got it first that I couldn’t cope with the disruption which led to me bawling my eyes out into a tin of dog food. Because you were a know-it-all but I looked up to you and wanted to be as fearless as you were(I’m never going to admit that to you though!). So your a safe person. But I’m still afraid. I’m lucky if I talk to 1 person a month now face to face that doesn’t live in this house. People are scary. Going out of the house is scary. I rarely go out anymore. But you’re safe because its you. Love you masses.x.x.

So here i am… still wondering how or even if I can message you. I guess its more im afraid of you replying. Gosh I’m such an awkward bitch… sigh… I don’t know what to do… in head? We go for a walk where there are no people(because I can’t have another panic attack because I don’t do people). We just walk and random talk but I need to get out my head where I gloss over all the bad. Stupid head… I should go to sleep.

For Jay. Love you and care for you always.x.

Thank you…

Today… This evening… thank you. Thank you for finally making me feel. To you they were just videos of your drive home but not to me. I saw the road signs, the trucks and cars and looked at the licence plates(because as they’re not English they fascinate me). Then the rain came down and I wondered if you remembered how much I absolutely adore rain? How the rain is my favourite weather and always stirs something in me. I flicked back over time over our many many random conversations… the latest again being food. My gosh we talk so much about food… recipes, different styles of cooking, spices, vegetables… sitting here a ghost of a smile pops up at our conversation about steak(which I still say is yucky and I don’t like it). But I’ve moved away from the point.

The whole point is you made me feel. Just for that moment I felt alive. With the hell I’ve been going through, the not feeling. How I’ve accepted this emptiness this devoid of feeling. You made me feel. I felt the rain hitting my skin as you drove your car talking about the rain. I felt those pitter patters rushing down and hitting my skin in sharp icy cold drops. I felt the small sharp sting and how my body shuddered at their touch. I felt the cold rain run in rivulets down me. Soaking my hair and running down my neck my clothes soaked to my skin. The goosebumps rushing along my arms and then across my body at the cold. My teeth chattering as my inner temperature dropped at being pulled so low because of the onslaught of rain beating down like tiny little knives. My hair trying to fight its hardest to curl back into its natural spirals as the rain soaks it pulling it all straight making me look bedraggled. All that from a few videos… You did it. You made me feel….

Its hard to explain it that soft stir inside me as something that slumbers moved just a little, just enough so I know it hasn’t died. Just enough to give me hope. And thats what I need… hope. Such a small word. Only 4 letters long. Such an infinite meaning… hope.

I’m having days and days and days and says of this… this greyness…

..I have wanted to give up more than once. I have been letting my anxieties rule me and have allowed myself to become comfortably numb. This fortified dam I have intricately built around me to cut myself off from everything and everyone. I’ve been so afraid of never feeling again. Of never writing again. I’ve been so afraid that I’ve lost my words forever. Because if I’ve lost them? Then who am I? To write is what I know. To be consistently surrounded by whirlwinds of words, even when I’m in my barren place. Those whirlwinds have always been there mocking and not letting me touch. But since February? They have gone. They left. There have been none. And that has scared me more than not feeling anything. Words, like music, are my blood. But you made me feel. I didn’t say much to the videos but? Here on my blog? Here I’ve written. Here I’m saying thank you. Thank you for being you. Thank you for random videos driving home and foreign license plates and roads and road signs, for trucks, cars, driving on the wrong side of the road, building and grass that usually gives up but instead is green because of rain, super straight roads and traffic lights above your head, endless presets on the radio and when your singing to the songs, the wipers going from slow to fast to keep up and car tail lights glowing in the pouring rain… Thank you for making me feel.

.x.

…Change your mind…

Drip drop drip drop

the rain so falls heavy down,

Harder harder into the mud

spinning through time you drown,

Drip drop drip drop

sounds like marching,

From their homes their lives

their loves departing,

Marching through

time,

Running down

the line,

Hit pause

and spin rewind,

Another place

trace lines,

Arcing backwards

past times,

Time stops

rewinds,

Fields of red

fields of red,

All those men

so many dead,

Bloody battles

sparks fly,

Burning arrows

across the sky,

Clang of sword

and shield clash,

War cry

armour crash,

Chieftains warriors

barbarians men,

So many so different

all the same but then,

The hungry cry

of injustice fight,

Hunters prey

right through the night,

Picking fighters off

one by one,

Their goal objective

make the other undone,

Chains that bind

whips slash,

Guns go off

bodies fall so rash,

Innocent words

called liar liar,

Bodies burn

callously set on fire,

Defining moments

encapsulated in time,

Consequences spin along

run through the trace line,

And now here in the present

man against man,

So many injustices

wheres this promised land,

Fighting and riots

march protest in the street,

Your colour your creed

Shouldn’t define who you meet,

Its just the colour

of your skin,

But I saw that girl with bleach

thinking she’s a sin,

We are all equal

we all are the same,

Bigoted people

have you no shame,

Look what your doing

push your narrow mindedness on the young,

Do not make them

what you have become…

.x.

Your words.

I thought a fair bit about whether I should post this or not. There is a part of me that was brought up to never show how much something or someone hurts you. They win if you do. You might say that’s growing up wrong but we are all different. However, this is MY page. As the page name says… An empty space… an empty space to fill with me. 1 rule. Be me. Be the real me that I perfectly hide from the world behind a smile. Here I can be honest in just how broken parts of me truly are. I can write out the cracks and shards of my mind. I can shatter into as many pieces as it takes. I fall apart over and over again and I can bleed words from my fingers all over the screen. This is MY page. My space to ditch the mask and be me.

This isn’t just an empty space… this is the one safe space I have.

So to write the things you have. The messages and comments you have? Its hurt. Does it not occur to you that your words cruelly hurt? I know I’m a mess. I apologise if you feel that I’m a stuck record that someone needs to “throw away” as youso eloquently put it. I dont know you. In fact I make it a point that no one I know IRL reads my blog. To the point that despite the fact I’ve had this blog for 10 years? Only 4 people that actually real life know me have ever seen it. I feel worthless enough as it is, I dont need comments like that. If you don’t like my blog? Dont read it. Simple as.

Everyone else? I’m sorry. I dont want to rant. I just needed to get this out to the “fan” that never learnt the phrase… “If you can’t say nothing nice, dont say nothing at all.”

(This post is going to be a little different than normal. Well maybe it might be. We shall see).

You can take that in more ways than one…

How do you feel? With my fingers usually. But sometimes its far better to feel with the tongue… ICE CREAM!!! You don’t feel ice cream with your fingers do you?! (Perverts).

But for this post I’m on about a different meaning. How do you feel? Honestly? I dont know.

Its still feeling like I’m on autopilot and emotions aren’t hitting hard enough to burst through and make me real again. Last night I sat and cried as I felt so sad. So I know that the feelings are there. They just won’t stay. I need them to stay so that I’m real. Because if I don’t feel like I’m real? Then what am I?

There’s so many thoughts going through my mind and if they’d just slow down from 100mph to maybe 80mph? I maybe just might be able to make sense of just one…

Yeah my brains the traffic and I’m the damn squirrel… why don’t these cars ever run out of fuel? Oh! They are pixie powered?! Fudging pixies… 🤬😡😠

Hows your week been? Yes, I am asking you. And yes… im asking you to. I see you sat in that chair quietly thinking “Who me?” Yes… YOU. Dont try and hide behind your cup. I can still see you. Shy huh? Don’t spill your drink! Ok ok… I’ll let you drink in peace. Wait a sec… is it a nice drink? Whats in your cup? I’m curious now…

Sigh… the week has gone ok in our house. I’ve busted the 11yr old 7 times for YouTube when she was supposed to be on Google classrooms(i swear as soon as my back is turned!!). But I listened to her French lesson. Really good! Oooooo… we had snow ❄ I love snow ❄ like I really really really love that white cold stuff! Me and the 11yr old had a snowball fight(we needed it). It made her late for her French lesson, so she’s about 11 minutes late and I say to her… just be honest. Say sorry and tell him why you are late and that im here if needs be. This French teacher is fab(knows all of my Kiddos), he says “ok ….. catch up please.” So she did. At the end of the lesson he let’s them go 5 minutes early and says go do something that makes you smile. Like have snowball fight! The best bit about that is that the pupils in that lesson had about 20-25 minutes before the next lesson and yes, we went back outside. But listening? We could hear some other kiddos out playing in the snow to. Its good to get outside.

The 15 year old has been doing really well plowing through her work. I mean I cant fault this girl. She’s really putting in the effort. Yep she’s still worrying about the GCSE’s. Every bit of work is proof she deserves her grade. I’m proud of her. She even asks me to reread and discuss word changes just like the 11 year old does. The 15 year old has finalised her college application and after our talk in getting it complete she’s not only sent it off but had her first email from them so she’s happy. She wants to work with children. This girl has the mum gene(If you know? You know). I always laugh and say that if I died? They wouldn’t go to my eldest girl. They’d go to the 15 year old. She’s got this amazing way with kiddos and has all the qualities you’d want from someone to look after them/work with them.

The 17 year old who is 6th form is also doing well. But he’s yet to decide what he wants to do next… he has a love of history and science and food. Erm… but not the science behind the history of food (well he might be into that!), each subject separately. Waiting to see how he feels and what his thoughts are as to what he does next. Interesting food lessons on Google classrooms this week and I’ve been made to laugh.

What I really noticed, especially with lockdown this time is just how much effort these teachers put in. I mean yes, I know they put in a sheer amount of effort into every single class. I know that teaching comes with so much hidden stuff that happens before they even get to the teaching part. I know teachers. I know just how hard it is and that no one goes into teaching for the money. But listening to these teachers keeping our kiddos engaged in working through lessons online and commenting something individual to each of our children making them know that they are being listened to. You rock teachers 👏👏

Currently I’m sat in my favourite place… yep you guessed correctly… kitchen floor. I’ve got the music playing(of course). Current song is Nickelback “Gotta be somebody.” A random list is playing out of 500 songs so I get a surprise every time.

I don’t know if writing all of this has done me any good? Or even why exactly I’ve written it all. I guess you can see that I’m normal I guess… wait… I’m normal?! EWWWWWW!! I dont want to be normal 😱

So I’ve just come back inside from telling my fluff ball to get in the house and hes just sulked past me and walked upstairs. I swear this cat is a sulky teenager sometimes and grumpy old man other times. He’ll be 5 years old this year but officially he’s not 2 years old for another 3 years. (I can see you sitting there trying to work that out you know🤭). Fluffy suits our family and I even admit that he is very much like his owner… completely anti social to everyone and every thing outside his family…

⬆️⬆️ every time I read that? I agree with Dracula. He kinda had it right. However my castle would have glitter inside and black because I like black but also pinks and blues and purples, oranges, lellows… and rainbows and unicorns and dinosaurs and kittens and stuffies!! Yeah… I’m kinda girly and I freak out at spiders… erm… just like that⬇️⬇️

ONLY DON’T KILL IT!!!! PUT HIM OUTSIDE. ITS COLD? PUT HIM IN THE SHED. EEKKKKKKKKK!!!! GET HIM AWAY FROM MEEEEE!!!! *As I scream like a girl and run and lock myself in the bathroom because the maybe the shower curtain and door will save me. Yeah… I know… and I’m supposed to be the adult…*

I know I haven’t really picked a subject to talk about this time for my post. I guess I’m just being real(like always), and just wanted to see where this post would take me. Because sometimes things come out when I write that I dont see until after I’ve published. In just letting my fingers play across the screen tapping away? I’m showing that despite the fact I’m clearly broken, I’m also human and I’m also trying and most importantly I’m real. In my day to day? I hide behind everything. I dont let people see when I’m falling apart. No one would guess that this afternoon I was in floods of tears(yeah bathroom floor). The world around me sees a smile. People that know me, know me as someone who is always ok. Someone who always has her shit together. But everyone on here? You all know that I cry nearly every day. You know that there are times I dont want to breathe any more. You see me. You see the real me. Eccedentesiast. That’s me. I’ve said it for years. I’ve perfected my mask for the world to see… that smile. Ive brought new tea. Remember my post about being caffeine free and my now love of Chamomile tea? Well I brought

And yeah… I drank it last night and got about 4 hours sleep!! (4 hours is an amazing amount of sleep!). So will be drinking more. I need honey in this though…

Anyway… I’ve written loads. Chamomile tea is calling me. Too early for that sleepwell stuff.

Hugs to you all at the other end of the wire…x.

Edit… I have a song to go with this post…

Perfect!

…Lost in thought…

Watching you
so dainty and sweet,
Tiny little nose
soft fluffy feet,
Nose boops and soft purrs,
You jumped up on the counter
just to watch what I’m doing,
and glare at that yucky white stuff
that is all over the floor outside the window.
Yes yes… you shouldnt be on the counter.
I’m spraying it again huh? I’ve cleaned it 4 times already today.
Your tail curled around your feet.
That tail that gets people talking, how they know your mine, tail as long as a normal cat and so fluffy!
If only everyone that has ever seen you
would know that at home the shy timid streak of white and black that runs so fast from everyone, actually likes to be cuddled…
on your terms!
You look at me and I see it,
Those eyes that hold so much knowledge,
Those other worldly eyes of greens and yellows that appear to change colour…
Chicken? Those eyes say.
Always for you.
You and your chicken obsession.
But not just any way, cut it small or you won’t touch it.
Watching you eat with that tiny mouth so dainty.
My fluffy friend.
That purr…
Oh that purr so loud out of someone so small.
I get so lost in watching you that I dont hear the pan on the hob boiling.
Ooopppssss…
So lost in the magic that is you.
Once cats were revered as G*Ds. With time we forgot. But cats did not.
How I love that saying and believe there’s truth in it.
You may be young but you have such an old soul and I see it every time I get lost in watching you…x.

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writing ... after parkinson's

stepsandpauses

Mostly Mindful

Nin Chronicles

Word Witch

Ontheland

Caring About Our World Reflecting About Life