Archive for March, 2015


….There is something about the way you leave me feeling so unsure….
…. Something about the way you manage to burn my skin, without ever having touched….
….So many words and never can any be said….
Time will tell…. and I want the time, never more so than now….

.x.

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Feeling Pointless Feelings….

So I tried to write you a poem. I thought that if wrote it as poem then I could get down everything, let it all out and then it would be “over and done with”  <—- they are not the correct words to use but, well, I don't know the correct words….
I tried…. I must have started 10 different poems, all on my phone. In fact I just counted and it’s 14. 14 different poems each with the same rule…. To be honest and let it out, no holding back. Didn’t work because I still can’t get the damned words out my mouth, And worse my fingers are refusing to write them….(Stupid fingers).
But I got thinking…. go back and read.  Not just today, go back a week or 2 or 3 or 4, go back a month…. did you not notice? Cause I tried so hard not to but I guess my trying ain’t so good. (The only thing I’m good at is either fucking up or making an ass of myself, I guess). So are you blameless? Nope…. incredibly sweet and kind you. It’s just the way your made 🙂
Still can’t put those words in….

I can’t get you off my mind,
I try so hard and yet I find,
The thoughts they stay the ones of you,
And how I feel it stays so true,
I tried to write a poem to just get it down in a simple thought,
But these words they keep on failing me these words they can’t be bought,
So I started poem after poem today,
And in all of them so simple I used the words I want to say,
But pointless because these are just words,
And my words are useless they scatter in the softest breeze like birds,
And it doesn’t matter if I just don’t have the knowledge to get them right,
What’s the point in trying it’s pointless and I’ll be here all night….

This is one of the hardest things I’ve written and I know it’s because it’s for you. I’m not just writing trying to let it out.
Idiot words…. oh how I have cursed them writing this. I’m such a chatterbox and yet those words I can’t put here. Or maybe they are here, in between every line I’ve written?

I give up….

.x.

I wanted to write on here….
Write about you and all those words and friendship and how incredibly sweet and kind you are….
But….but….but….
I think I’ll just post a picture instead….

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(for P….)

You are….

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Yes you are….
.x.

….Sleep….

  Do you sleep well?  I don’t, I dream every night. My dreams start out all different and oddly I usually always remember most of them. I talk in my sleep often and sometimes have full blown conversations with whoever else happens to be in the room trying to sleep.
Most nights I’ll dream about my Rider on his horse. I’ve written about him in many poems, he never changes, and I always run. I wouldn’t call him a nightmare, just a dream.
  Nightmares…. When I was younger, and I mean a lot younger (6,7,8,) i used to wake screaming and sobbing. I had to share a room with my older foster sister and she, along with the rest of the house became used to me waking every night screaming.
  As I got older they became less. My mind prioritised other things, other thoughts.
  When I was a child and I used to see a psychiatrist, she said that it was ok that my mind blocked out painful memories. I’d answer the same every time…. It may be ok now, but what happens when I have children of my own and I’m doing  something mundane like bending at the washer pulling wet clothes out, and all those memories start coming back?
The answer was always the same. You’ll be able to cope….
  For most of the time those memories stay behind walls all locked up. But sometimes, like now, they are back in my thoughts. Not really the waking ones, they cascade and torment my mind and dreams as I sleep. It’s hard to get rid of them. But I will with time….
   Last night was the first night, and I know it’s going to be one of many. I didn’t lay down to go to sleep until gone 2 this morning. I woke to the sound of my own screaming at nearly 4 am. Then wandered around the house for a while until I ended up sitting on the kitchen floor looking out the patio doors.
  I seem to end up here a lot. Just watching the sky get lighter. We get a fox family come into the garden, plus hedgehogs and the vast assortment of birds. Sometimes I sit there and write most times just get climbed all over by one or both of the cats.
  Today I’m tired. Really tired. But tonight I don’t want to sleep. I’m scared of the thought of what I know is going to happen. I hate waking up in the state I get.  So a few weeks of this…. I can handle it, I will handle it, I’m going to handle it….
That saying goes through my mind…. “It never rains but it pours….”
  I don’t want to go back to the doctor just yet and tell him how I feel, I don’t want to go back on tablets. I may feel like I’m drowning but yes, I am still keeping my head above the waves.
  Writing on here is helping, but writing always has been my outlet. That and pumping music through my veins….
 
….just keep walking forward
it doesn’t matter if fast or slow,
Keep putting one foot in front of the other
because that’s the way to go….

.x.

….

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I agree….

.x.

  I wanted to write on here yesterday but I couldn’t so I just posted a picture….
  Yesterday I had to listen to all those stupid voice mails on my phone as I’d missed a call. Voicemail is annoying just like answer machines….
  There’s 9 on my phone and the 3rd one is from my mother. She sounds broken…. begging me to call her. She must have rung before I figured out the block function on my phone. I have this natural thing where I want to make people happy and smile. There’s nothing better than taking 2 minutes to give someone else a smiley moment. And most of the time it wouldn’t even take you 2 minutes….
  My resolve started to crack and yeah I should ring her, make her smile. But that doesn’t do me any good. It places me back at square 1. How will I move forwards if I’m going backwards? I didn’t ring her….
  Yesterday, as if he had somehow known, a friend messaged me at just the right moment and gave me the smiles I needed. He carried on sending messages throughout the day and it helped so much. I didn’t tell him and he doesn’t need to know, but yeah…. Yesterday was hard.
  I sat through a TAC meeting and could hardly think straight, you know when there’s things you have to do, things you should do. Things that are right. I spent most of yesterday thinking that yet again my biological family will think I’ve proven it to them that I’m a heartless selfish bitch. That I do this to my mother is yet more proof I’m bad. I know I shouldn’t entertain these thoughts. I guess it’s just the way my mind is wired? Anyone know of an electrician to change the wiring? 
My sleeping is basically non existent, my appetite has disappeared and my mind is dragging itself over jagged sharp painful memories that should be locked away behind layer upon layer of wall, and yet still I’m stumbling forward tripping one foot over the other….
  Last night I did what I do best, make other people smile. It’s easy to forget the things I need to when I’m concentrating  on someone else.
  I went to bed at 4 this morning and got up 20 mins late at 6:40 am. Will I sleep tonight? At some point yes. Will I eat today? I don’t know. Will I call my mother today just to make her happy? No. No I am doing the right thing. The best thing. And I can do this.
It’s funny how when 1 thing goes wrong, loads of things go wrong. There is so much going wrong in my life right now. It’s hard to keep a smile for the world to see but I’m doing it. My thoughts keep getting endlessly darker, but its ok to have a darkside as well as the light?
  Listen to some more music, make it louder, show the world your smile, and above all keep putting one foot in front of the other….
.x.

Little Thought….

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.x.

Learn…. I will….

There’s this saying….
“Leave the past in the past….”
But what if the past won’t stay there? What if it constantly follows you? Like a shadow, tripping you up every damn chance it gets? Tainting your every move, reminding you that you are bad….
So most of you know I was in care, most of you have probably figured out the basics of why…. damn I feel so full of emotions I don’t understand but what I do know is that I just can’t understand why I let my mother back into my life?
Why? I ask myself why? But I don’t know. It’s like all of a sudden my mind goes to mute or starts singing saying i can’t hear you!
I wanted answers. I needed answers. I still want those answers…  See I can find reasons why it can be explained, for all the things that happened to me. I still say it’s my fault. I must have provoked those men to do what they did to me. I must have been a bad child to get hit and thrown down the stairs and so many countless other things that my memory just says no.
But….
My brother. My brother had no voice, he couldn’t protest, couldn’t stop it, couldn’t tell anyone. The images of what happened to him still haunt me nearly 30 years later. Why? Why did she think it was ok to do those things to him? THEY are the answers I need. And the more my children grow, the more I try my hardest to be the sort of parent my children can be proud of. The sort of parent that has good strong bonds with their children and helps guide them to be the best they can be…. The more I am disgusted with her. The more I hate her.
My dad I just wiped from my life. Easy as that. In my mind, the words mum and dad are just that. Words. My parents died with the 6 yr old that used to wake every night screaming and hysterical.
My mother lives in her own world, where lies and fairy tales and make believe are all real and it’s been like that so long that I doubt she knows the real from the lies anymore. But I need those answers…. why did she touch him and worse? That tears me apart.
Ok you can never understand why a sick individual would do something like that just like you wouldn’t be able to understand a killer or rapist or well the list I guess goes on….
I figured out a while ago that it was hopeless. That I was never gonna get those answers. That even if she once had them, they are gone now, disintegrated beneath all those lies and wonderful tales she spins. I doubt she knows anymore….
But that doesn’t help me sleep better at night….
So I wrote on here that Peter, her husband, had died. I wonder how much he truly knew?  Peter was a nice guy. Not like her. He lived in the world. The real world. Not her fairytale.
I blocked my mother’s number to my phone. She’s blocked on Facebook. And as I’m moving she won’t know my new address. I should have done this a long time ago…. why didn’t I? Simple…. I still had hope I’d get those answers….
Between her, my dad, those men, what happened in my early 20 ‘ s and being in care…. I can accept that yes I’m a fuck up. Yes I get so much wrong and yes I’m so afraid of getting hurt that I struggle to even accept love. I have no doubt that my past is why I have more male friends than female, I don’t really like women. <—- is that the right word? I think not…. uncomfortable around them? No. I don't know the right word….
What I do know is she is out of my life and I should have done it sooner….
But I also know this…. I always wanted a mum to have a close bond with…. to talk to about kids with, to be there as I went through my pregnancies,  when I got told my baby would die unless they operated on him while he was still inside of me, when they pulled my children’s dad to one side and told him I was that ill the doctors didn’t think I was gonna make it through labour and have my youngest son. There are many more times. To many to write….
What I am thankful for is that I am not like her. So what I never had a mum…. 
I don’t have what most would call a normal family, most of the people I’m actually related to think I’m a bad person.
I have a brother. I have another brother (who was fostered with me) and I love him like my full blood brother. I have a half sister (one of many) who I love like full blood to. Apart from them and my kids? I don’t need any other family.
For every backwards step I take, I remind myself that I just need to keep walking…. everytime I feel low and it feels like life’s not worth it…. I remember there are people out there who go through worse….
I can do this. Even though I feel so stressed out and so mixed up and so damned lost in this sea of emotions that at times I feel like I’m drowning….
I’m stronger than I know. I just need to start believing in myself….

.x.

Yep….

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