Tag Archive: Life


…Cracks…

I wanted to give up

I wanted to give up so bad,

I expected you

to be so mad,

I thought that you’ll leave

when I need you to stay,

Please please please

don’t ever go away,

I know that I’m broken

and I feel lost and alone,

and I know that’s partly my fault

And I’m wholly to blame,

The gray talks to me

pulling me into its game,

And I go

I fucking keep going,

Rational thinking

its knowing,

But I give in I’m so weak

can’t do this,

I push but it takes

the piss,

I want to

give in,

Keep drowning

within,

I keep saying I got this

I’m good,

But those are my lies

sugar-coated misunderstood,

Sugar-coated crystalline candy

love heart lies,

Because in my head I’m saying

goodbyes,

I’m slinking further

away,

I’m giving up more

every day,

But deep down

I need you to stay,

Please don’t leave though I push

you away,

I keep walking closer

closer to the edge,

It beckons and it calls me

step up to the ledge,

And I try and I fight

but I’m exhausted inside,

And I’m so damn sorry I

told you I was okay because I lied,

I want to give in,

But giving in

is a sin,

Life is so precious

and I feel so much shame,

My head is a mess

and I know I’m to blame,

I feel I’m not worthy

I should walk out life’s door,

But I’m not worth the time put a smile on

get up off the floor,

Please don’t leave

say that you’ll stay,

I’m cold with emotions

and push everyone away,

I lock myself off I

lock myself down,

And I know its my fault

I keep the gray in so I drown,

I drown quietly so

that you’ll never know,

Because I’m so ashamed of me I’m bad tainted

please don’t leave don’t go…

.x.

Hope is a “cap de pula”

“Hi! How are you?”

Those words… those words mean I have to bend the truth. I have to find a way to tell you what you what to hear. That I’m ok. That I’m doing good. Because you don’t really want to hear that I’m not. Again. So I show you that I’m good and I spend the day with a stupid smile and a happy positive vibe for you to see. And then later? I’m exhausted. I’m exhausted from the pretence. The 1 woman show that I’ve put on for everyone to see. From where I’ve worked so hard to have everyone thinking that I’m ok and that I’ve not failed again. And then despite feeling exhausted? I’m awake at night clawing at my mind like I claw at my skin. And the anxiety builds and the self doubt builds and the darkness wins a little more and I smile for everyone to see and I’m ok. And I fail. All I do is fail.

It’s not supposed to be like this. I’m supposed to have been able to kick it into touch by now. I’m supposed to have snapped out of it and stopped moping and whatever other words I’ve heard people say… the past is in the past, I’m not a child anymore… grow up and get on with it. I’ve heard it all. But some scars run deep. They fracture you and physically break something deep inside. Some broken children heal and others don’t. The ones that don’t turn into broken adults. And it’s not their fault they’re broken. It’s not my fault I’m broken. But to me? To me it’s my fault. I don’t want to be a failure. I don’t want to disappoint. So I’m ok. But I’m not… I’m tired of the games that my mind plays. I want out of it. I want to be rid of the thoughts, the memories, the flashbacks, but most of all? I want to be rid of the nightmares. The things I see when I sleep. Or the terror I feel on the odd occasion I go to the shop and hear someone with that tone of voice. I want to stop being afraid of everything and everyone. Sounds stupid? Yep I know. But it’s the truth. Looking back, I never used to be like this. This bad I mean. It started getting worse about 7 years ago. I don’t know what the catalyst was. But now I question every thing I do, think, and say. I judge myself so harshly that I don’t leave any of myself left for anyone else to judge. It’s said that we are our own worst critic. I rip myself apart before anyone else gets chance to realise just what a failure I am. Because if others found out that I was less? Then they would stay away. People hurt you. No one gets in therefore they can’t hurt me. Only I can hurt me.

Honestly? I’m tired of the whirlwind that is me. That is my mind. My thoughts. My feelings. My emotions… I’m tired of me. I’m tired of fake smiling. I want so desperately to give up and yet, there’s this tiny stupidly annoying little thing inside of me… this tiny little spark… its called hope. And as much as I loathe myself? Hope keeps shining. Hope refuses to give up. Hope keeps me going…

…sigh…

Depression/darkness/anxiety/whatever you wish to call it… they are strong and powerful things. But hope? That tiny little sparkling glimmer of hope? It’s the most powerful thing there is.

So… I’m going through bad days(again), My poems on here have stopped(again). But? I’ll be posting soon because? Hope doesn’t let me quit life.

410

Happened again…

I dream of dragons

and fearless knights,

Witches and Warlocks

fairytale delights,

Fae and Werewolves

inquisitive eyes glow,

They walk so quietly

howl each other down low,

Then head tipped up

with a howl so high,

Watch Demons and nightmares

glide across the sky,

Paws hit the dirt

a galloping roar,

The coming of

a ferocious war,

Teeth snap fur flies

power and rage,

Healers heal witches chant

words from a forgotten age,

Annnndddd… again I’ve lost my thread… if I can come back to this and finish it? I’ll delete and repost but? I wanted to post this to show that this, this above, is what keeps happening. My drafts are full of stuff not finished. Too many untitled and titled posts. All because I lose the threads. I lose the magic that is weaving so eloquently down my veins.

I’ve written quite a few times about wolves. Do I believe in fairytales? Fairytales are stories, all stories come from truths told in different ways. Each truth woven throughout time into the Fairytales we love today. Without seeming even more loony than I already come as? I’ll just say I have reason to be open minded to things. Just because we can’t see something? Doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, whether paranormal or supernatural. Ok I sound nuts…

Anyway… another poem for the unfinished list. …sigh… I’ll try again. Always tomorrow right? Maybe I’ll write better then… its disheartening to me just lately… I look at some blogs and they post sometimes 2 or 3 poems a day, like how are you doing that?! I struggle with posting 1 a day! Am I doing it wrong? Is it because I write it straight onto here and not on paper first? (Paper copy comes after I hit post). Hmmm….? I don’t know…

I guess in other really boring news? I went out Monday. I mean actually out walking. I was 5mins from home. I went with the eldest girl who understands my anxieties and is amazing at trying to remove my mind to other things. She holds hands, links arms and when I’m repeating I need to go home like a mantra? She’s telling me I can do it. She was brilliant Monday. It was about 9pm and we left the driveway turning left to the alleyway. That’s when it started, it started getting harder to breathe, I could feel my chest tightening and it hurt, my head started pounding and I was starting to feel dizzy. It was harder to get words out, tears started. And people wonder why I don’t go out? Honestly I love nature. Trees and fields and streams and rivers and walking without ever seeing another soul. Because that’s my fear… people. It’s not the going out, it’s people. I don’t want to be near people. Not anyone. You don’t live in my house? Go away from me. There are a few safe people but even a few of those are now no longer safe. I can’t explain this… this irrational fear of people…

Grrrrrr…

I hope your day is a great one today. I really do. I hope its good to you. Because good days are always the best. Whether its something big rhat makes us smile or something small and seemingly insignificant like a flower or a bee(I love both!). Whatever makes you smile? I hope you see it today because we all need a smile. Sending you all a hug.x.

1

Hi… How’re you? How are you really? Not what you tell everyone else because you think it’s what they want to hear. But how you really feel. You can be honest here. I don’t bite…unless your cheesecake. Are you cheesecake? No? Okay. I won’t bite unless you want me to no! I mean no I won’t bite! So… how are you feeling? How’s your day been? How’s your week been? We’re on day 3 of a new month and we’ve got the whole month ahead of us. I hope its a good month for you. Are you tired? Make sure you get enough sleep. Well… before I start the next paragraph, I wanted to give you a little hug and a smile through the wire.x.

How am I? I want to say I’m good. I’m not. But I want to say I’m good. I’m currently sitting in a place (emotionally/mentally) where I’m just kind of floating and letting what comes come. This with me is never truly a good idea. I’ve looked back over the year so far and honestly? I’m not kicking it enough this year. I’m letting that darkness win. That I think is what people don’t get… my demons? I sit and eat cheesecake with them, we sometimes talk about world destruction. But my darkness? That’s That’s no. I fight it. I run from it. I refuse to admit its there. I ignore it. I get too emotional or my anxiety gets to high or my fears to great? I ask it for a hug. Literally I wrap my arms into the dark and beg it to never let me go because everyone else is gone.

Yeah I know… no one is ever truly alone. But there are many different forms of loneliness. Mine is fear. Go on say it, fear doesn’t make you lonely. But is can do… I fear people so bad that I push everyone away. People hurt you. I don’t want to be hurt. Therefore no one can get close. My kids are an exception to this. But they are mine. I did that. (Yes I know I had help making them but he only helped with the secret ingredient. I did the rest!). I often think pushing everyone away makes me a bad person but I’ve tried to work around it, which is probably worse… my mask tother world.

Anyway… I haven’t cried in 3 days! Go me!!! I haven’t broken down. Oh… and I haven’t thought about ending things. So all that’s good right? Yeah… its good. But… I haven’t actually processed any feelings in that time either. Not processing thoughts,feelings and emotions? That’s bad… but I’ll get there. I will. I don’t know when. But I’ll get there.

So today is Saturday and I forgot why I was writing this… it did have a purpose but I’ve lost it… hmmm…🤔 oh well… it wasn’t important. Wishing you all a happy safe weekend.x.

Does the colour of your skin matter? Does it? We claim to be such a diverse society and yet we judge so harshly based solely on the colour of a person’s skin. Imagine getting up to face another day with the paranoia of knowing the things you do and the places you’ll go, you’ll be observed, you’ll be judged…

Racism is defined as any act that is seen as prejudice or discriminatory against someone of a different race based on the belief that your own race is superior.

Have you ever looked at a person in a clothing shop, superstore or college campus and judged them suspiciously based on the colour of their skin? Ever wondered whether they’re going to steal something or open their jacket to reveal a bomb?

Imagine being left out or ostracised because you’re “different”. Imagine being mocked or excluded socially or being stereotyped, taunted or insulted simply because your views, beliefs and experiences are different. All people are created equally. We all have a heartbeat. We all breathe. We are the same. So who are you to judge?

How many times have you gone online and laughed at the meme used to portray “innocent” racism? It’s funny right? But would it be so funny if it was about the colour of your skin? You know it wouldn’t.

The Internet is a great place, keeping families and friends connected. We all use it several times a day. Whether we surf the Web or use one of the many social media platforms such as Facebook or Instagram. We’re more connected than ever. This should, and for the most part does, bring us all together. But there’s a dark side to the Internet, an insidious side to life online and its creating the opposite effect to bringing us all together. It’s creating a more inclusive society stirring trouble and causing rifts between people and groups based on religion, ethnicity and? Skin colour.

There is now quantitative behavioural evidence that the rise in the Internet has led to a rise in racism and racially motivated crimes. Ever hear the term following the sheep?

Research has proved the effects of racism can cause significant mental and emotional scarring to an individual and yet? “We” continually racially discriminate, classing “ourselves” a superior race simply because of a person’s culture, religious dresscode or beliefs. Some of us racially discriminate based on the colour of a person’s skin.

We are all equal. We all have a heartbeat. We all breathe…

D.V.

Trigger warning ⚠️

Domestic violence.

The simplest touch
the softest word,
All those sweet nothings
the love that I heard,
Time it moved on
and I fell in love,
Thought you were the best
a gift from above,
As time it moved on I
lost friend after friend,
Til you were my start
and you were my end,
Then came the accusing
of every guy I saw,
And I never even realised
controlling more and more,
The first time you hit me
i felt such a disgrace,
So much mess and so much glass
blood all over the place,
You told me I was nothing
as you slammed closed that door,
And I laid dazed and hurt
amid the mess on the floor,
Time it moved on
those hands nearly every day,
And then after how much you loved me
in each and every way,
More time and we had children
they’re my lights I don’t regret,
Then that day with the axe
imprinted I can’t forget,
More years and that table
the spade car poker knife,
That night with the car between us
blood pouring begging for my life,
That was when I realised
that I had to leave,
You weren’t letting up
there was no reprieve,
Now for 2 years
we’re not together,
Although you still want
a me and you forever,
You say if you can’t have me
then no one else can,
And you repeat this often
but get it your not my man,
I am not weak
and you will not win….

This poem is inspired by someone else’s true life story. No… I am NOT tarring every man with the same brush and women are just as much likely to be the abuser, but because of the stigma attached to domestic violence against males? Its less likely to get reported. Abuse is abuse. I don’t care who you are. Don’t degrade another, everyone deserves love, safety, happiness and the simple necessities that give a good quality of life. Okay… even I have a couple of exceptions to that and I’m honest enough to admit them… If you’re a rapist or if you in any form hurt a child/children? You get what you get and hell would be too good of a blessing for you.

Soooo… don’t read this and bitch about the subject matter. I will write about every and any subject. Infact I think I might do a couple of writing posts to show that despite the fact I’m half the picnic short of a picnic and definitely have more than a few screws loose, I can write.

…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.

(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!

Rebuilding 1 block at a time…

I crashed last month. Like always? I didn’t see the signs until after. Like always I hid how much I cried, hid that I didn’t want to breathe any more. I planned in detail again just how I’d do it. I’ve got a quick fool proof way. No come backs. No doctor will save me. But its just thoughts. Its what happens when I get that low. I know there’s some name for it. Where you plan it but have no intention to actually do it. I seem to purposely break myself and shatter my own defenses every time I try to build them. Honestly I’m tired of this game. So damn tired. I’m tired of building myself back up and pretending that I’m always ok. I’m tired of always showing the world a smile, and im known for it… that stupid smile. Its there hiding me behind it.

Right now I feel numb. No emotion is hitting me hard enough to get through. I’m just sitting here in my mind slowly building these glass shards up one by one. You’d think by now I’d have cut myself so many times that I’d build with something stronger. But no… I’d rather walk on broken glass apparently…

But you see? This is the thing with depression. It hits us all in different ways. Its sets us apart but in being apart we are together(these are my thoughts remember). It torments us with sweet nothings. Promises of things being better if we just give in and let that dark gray soft depressive cloud envelope us in its warm embrace. But they’re not better. They never are. And yet so many of us give in again and again. Are you tired like me? Because I’m so damn tired of all this.

I want to be better. I want to be like everyone else. I don’t want to have to fight the feeling that my skin is trying to crawl off me every time I’m around people. I dont want to keep being afraid of people and places with lots of them. I dont want outs to my anxiety to be to claw my skin on my arms until I make it bleed(I’m working hard on finding ways to not do this including living in t-shirts no matter the weather because I cant hide it). I’ve often said over the years that I want to be normal. But what’s normal? To the outside world I appear to function fine. So therefore? I must be fine. I must be normal… Please remind me of this next time I’m on the bathroom floor crying so hard I can hardly breathe all while trying to make no sound so no one knows what I’m doing. Remind me of it when my own mind turns against me and drags me down shattering every hope I have, leaves me a broken jaggard mess. Remind me then that I’m normal. Because those times I forget…

So here I am. Back to the now. And I’m here. I’m starting to feel words again so I know I’m coming back. I’m building enough and fighting the numb enough and not just floating in it because floating in numb is easy and since when did I ever take the easy road anyway? I can’t quite catch the words yet to make poems. But I will. I have hope. When I have nothing else inside me? I always find a way to have hope. And sometimes things get so dark in my mind. But still always there is hope. Hope plants seeds. Hope can grow a blade of grass or a mountain…

Look at me here littering this page with my thoughts… I feel I’d have made more sense if I’d just grabbed a tin of alphabet spaghetti and played scrabble with it(now there’s an idea!). But I stick to the promise I made for this page… be open. Honest. Who cares if they think your a fruitloop? You’ve never eaten one so does it matter? The point is I’m real.

I’ve just seen something fluffy walk into the room and meow(well he makes a sound that sounds like “no”), in my direction… I’m going to say hello and touch the uber fluffiness because no one can deny a cat…

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

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I rant and write ;)

Aphorism with Abhishek

The stuff that matters

A Pondering Mind

A little of this. A little of that.

Heart Breathings

"Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart." William Wordsworth

All About Life

Ideas and musings from a middle-aged 20 something

Blessings by Me

Frugal Living Tips & DIY Home Decor From My House to Yours

kiwissoar

flights of fancy from New Zealand

Leigh's Wordsmithery

Where Words are Tempered, Not Tamed

lauravent69

Welcome to my crazy world. Life, music, animals and misadventures with my twisted humor leading the way!

LargeRoomNoLight

Confessions of a Creative Energy Addict

I didn't have my glasses on....

A trip through life with fingers crossed and eternal optimism.

An Unexpected Muse

writing ... after parkinson's