Thinking Space

 

1-2Thinking Space.
Sometimes I need some thinking space,
Peace and quiet in this place.
To understand what we’ve been through.
Behaviour changes me and you.
A place from where we do not shout,
Where I can let it all come out.
We do not even have to speak,
When I am feeling oh so weak.
But quiet places where we talk,
No hustle and bustle for a walk.
It seems that as we rearrange,
Going forward time for change.
Emotions put away inside,
Dark and sad, we try to hide.
But there’s a place we go to rest,
When we do not feel our best
It’s where we think of when we’re still,
Peace and quiet upon the hill.

via Daily Prompt: Aware

Levels of Weirdness and Unity.


It’s funny the things that bring us together. The familiar weirdness that two or more people share, which becomes a small group, then sometimes a bigger one.
What springs to mind is the myriad of things that bring us together in the first place. A hobby or a pastime. An illness or A favourite something or another, all over the world there are people joining together like never before. There are Groups for this or that bringing people together in some small way. Share your likes and you will find other like minded people who share them too, who can illuminate where something was missing, forcing you to look at something their way sometimes just for a moment, or maybe change your perspective forever. Yet, because you share that common interest you are susceptible to their outlook. I guess it is what helps us grow as people. Sometimes we get misguided or manipulated or just plain confused along the way. Sometimes it can bring us new friends or experiences which we had not thought to try before.

But in among it all for at least a while, there is unity a common bond and a weirdness which connects us and I celebrate that.

 

All in a Blur

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This past few days have been a bit of a blur.

We have the news that my partner needs Major surgery imminently and has priority listing, we are waiting for a bed. His pre-op date has arrived within the week, it is soon.

It is almost like an altered state when I am outside looking in, except that it is happening around me. Lives going on, days going by, time passing elsewhere.

Waiting as though for something to happen. I feel dread, but know not what for. Just a sense of uncertainty on the air.

Perhaps some great change is out there and coming my way which will lift me out of this feeling. I am trying to remain positive so that whatever this is won’t bring me down.

The other day I had the first of my two long awaited appointments for different things. The hospital are going to do tests and scans, they really do want to get to the bottom of things.

A little fear creeps in, you know the nagging thought I hope that it’s not another hereditary thing. A bit like Hypertension but worse. No-one to my knowledge had Endometriosis in the family and Thankfully the line stops here from me. So far so good, my sister is Ok in that respect.

But this is not that, this is some old complaint, that hasn’t gone away,  over a period of time it has reared it’s head with new worrying symptoms. It could be related to the Endometriosis, which is the explanation I have given it until now. I talked frankly to my mother, about my beloved Grandmother and found out why she had to have a colostomy when she was young. Stage 3 Bowel Cancer with 8 weeks to live when they finally found out and operated. We worked out, she was in her 30’s. Younger than I am and she survived for about another 30 years. So there is hope. But I am scared suddenly and so is he.

The letter turned up the very next day, I had to book a SeHCAT Scan. The hospital don’t usually send thing first class post, he remarked.  That seems quick when I have waited six months to see the consultant and had symptoms for much longer. I called to book and have one in 2 weeks time. It comes under the “nuclear medicine” category. You have to take a pill, have one lot of scans and then return a week later for more.

There is pain that radiates through my nether regions daily at the moment and the Dog is extra cuddly, he is comforting me night and day should I worry?

I wake this morning, “what if I have the thing that I have been dreading?” Not the IBS which I have been living with for years but something else. Ever the practical one, the only thoughts going through my head being how would he cope with every day if I couldn’t do things? I will have to sort the loft out, he can’t get into the loft. If we had to move then he wouldn’t be able to empty it if I’m not able to. If I was really ill, we would have to rely upon others going up there. It’s odd the things that go through your head. It’s been a strange week, filled with both pain and uncertainty.

via Daily Prompt: Blur Image: Morguefile

A Night Out, Gone wrong…

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This WordPress prompt suddenly reminded me of a situation I found myself in many years ago. It is part of the reason I rarely go out these days and feel generally safer in more relaxed environments.  Although the experience was contained, it was not one that I wished to repeat, however I was unfortunate when it happened to me again several years later. Now they are called Date Rape Drugs and there is alot more information readily available. Back then when your drink was spiked, there was little clue to the unsuspecting as to what with, or how to recover from it. I was just lucky that I did.

It was supposed to be a great night out, we had stayed at a friends Mum’s for the weekend. I had been looking forward to it for ages.

All dressed up we were met by her Uncle who was escorting us for the evening, nothing to worry about, we were in safe hands.

We queued for ages and finally walked into the club, the music was pumping and we were looking forward to a great night out in Birmingham.

As we bought our drinks, two guys came up to us and began talking. I had bought my friend a drink and myself a bottle of beer. I must have taken my eyes off my own drink as I passed hers across. I don’t know how else he could have slipped it into the bottle, but I did not get more than half way down it. Within minutes I felt strange, suddenly woozy and detached from the situation, as though I was on the outside looking in and my legs went.  My friend took my arm and guided me away from them into a corner, telling them to leave me alone. It was not to be the night or weekend I had hoped for.  I began to slur, my words were in my head, but I just couldn’t form them.  I did not know what was happening to me, was I having a stroke or something. I could not even tell her what had happened and it was scary, so scary.  My eyes pleaded with her not to leave me alone.  I could not stand, or walk properly.  She stayed watching over me, her Uncle keeping an eye on me whilst she danced a short distance away, they took it in turns throughout the evening.  We could not leave, we just had to wait it out for the drug to pass, so that my legs would work and for my heart rate to stabilise and she kept bringing me water, I was so thirsty.

A few hours later, I was able to stand.  I had no further recollection of the night, how we got home or any comprehension of the state that I was in.  They sneaked me into her mother’s house. I slept for hours, I was ill. I did not know how I would get home safely. I cannot recall how I did. I remember the next day, her mother assuming that I was the worse for wear. My friend explained what had happened and only when the Uncle verified what had happened did she believe us.

It was the last time that I stayed there and I did not venture to Birmingham again for a night out. I was lucky, my friends were around me to keep me safe.

via Daily Prompt: Slur

Tremble

As I tremble, from the sheer weight of my feelings underneath it all. 

My hands are shaking, the blood races around my body.

I roar, the tiger inside momentarily wounded. 

Reliving the moments, I feel the pain of my recent past. Hurting from it all, renewed anger and sadness rising from the pit of my stomach. 

It is laid bare before a new person who didn’t know. She is in tears as I leave. Why did I do that to her? I did not do it on purpose or for gain it is my cry for help. The long awaited appointment. 

The ups and downs of thinking that I may have healed myself but the reality that the painful process has just begun again. I return to the safety of my car, where I sit and look at random things for a few minutes. My head pounding and a feeling of sickness creeping through my throat. I need to calm my nerves feeling numb, a bit dazed and confused. The next step in my therapy.
via Daily Prompt: Tremble

Broken Pieces

Broken pieces.

All these years and all this pain.
I wonder what there is to gain?
From time spent waiting for them to mend,
Broken pieces of my beloved friend.
Just fix him up the best you can
So life goes on for this lovely man
You see he has still things to do
Mountains and seascapes, enjoying the view.
A day with smiles and without pain,
Would give so much to see again.
And signs of way down deep inside,
Where Happy used to once reside.
The brightness of a sunny day,
Can often chase his clouds away,
But damp and cold within his night,
Will often give him stress he’ll fight.
So take up the challenge, make him well
I know that only time can tell.
If he’ll be who he once was again
But years go by it’s not a game.
Places to go, people to see
He’s coming there along with me.
He has so very much to give,
Give back his life to let him live.

 

My Blogging Birthday.

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I read an article the other day on Linked in which inspired me to write one of my own on the subject of blogging. Later last night I read another linked here from a blog I follow A Thousand Bits of Paper  who tells of her draft folder and subject matter and how she dives in and out of there. I think that we all do it. Save some for later post it when it seems right, or not at all. I have on several occasions written thought I had finished a draft and then not felt quite right about publishing. Waiting for the right time to do so and having to edit it so much because the timing is out. But since I have the opportunity to elaborate here on my own blog about my own writing I feel inclined to.

As I head towards a whole year as a blogger, it feels kind of strange to be writing this. Firstly that something I had thought at first might not take off or might be short lived would become quite a big part of my life. When I thought that a little bit of writing here and there would turn into something that would consume so many of my waking hours and that my thoughts, however random they might be would be down on paper and/or the blog and I would be letting it all out in the open.

At first my partner was apprehensive about it. Having life as we know it out there for all to see and that is why you do not see his name here when I write. It’s easier that way. I wanted to keep him separate and protect him in some small way.  

Blogging has changed my life, I hope for the better. I have an outlet for thoughts and creativity which means I no longer carry them around bursting at the seams, an emotional wreck full of baggage clogging up my life, which is how I felt previously.

True, I haven’t done a great deal of go getting or living in the past year and have often felt constrained but not in the same ways as before. So it has helped me grow as a person, my writing has improved I think and I have connected with some wonderful people and writers along the way. I have found them to be both informative and supportive and thankfully right when I needed it, totally non-judgmental. I had been so fragile previously I don’t know if they sensed this in my writing, or just that I have been so extremely lucky. Either way, I am truly grateful for them and the experience of writing. I will continue with this blog it wasn’t a five minute wonder for me. More like the start of something wonderful and your comments have spurred me on. I have written a book and got it out there on Amazon at least. It’s a little acorn at the moment, but I felt that I would continue with my poems and there might be enough for a second one, who knows maybe even a third on the same vein. I am testing my writing language. I may decide to write that raunchy book too, since they also seem to be all the rage and at least it will get that little lot out of my head and I think that there might also be a novel hiding in there somewhere.

I still have a fight going on with my partner from time to time about my writing.  After all, He has demands upon my time more so while I have not had a job. I need to work but since I haven’t been able to this has kept me sane and given me the outlet to keep working towards something however small it might be. I also need space for my own thoughts, to release them without judgement. We don’t always agree and I don’t want to argue. We don’t often unless it’s something important or I feel really strongly about, but we talk about everything. I mean everything and sometimes I just crave some peace and quiet and it feels like overload. If I can’t get out on my own then I go and write. It helps to have some of your own space to do this uninterrupted. I make sure that I write most days even if it is just a diary entry just before I sleep. The pages on my phone have become my silent notebook if I need to write in the early hours or the morning and not all of it gets published here.

I used to carry notebooks around when I was working. I still have many of them and will go back to that since the batteries on the phone are always running low and it still needs to work as a phone I have been thinking of getting an electronic notebook though it might save me time when I’m going to work again. I like to get things put on the laptop and backed up since losing my hard drive a couple of years ago. I found it devastating. I don’t like to lose things.

I have recommended and encouraged others to venture into the world of blogging, to begin their own journey and see where it takes them for me  so far it has been such a wonderfully rewarding experience.

Today I received a notification that I had received 1337 likes to my blog.  A strange number to celebrate, but hey I’m glad that people out there in the big wide world are still liking what I write. I also now have 160 followers, so to all of you. I Thank You, I am grateful for you all making it worthwhile.

 

The Yellow Mini

It was her first one. Mum’s first car of her very own. A yellow Mini with a Black roof and bonnet stripes. In the brightest yellow that she could find. Yes it was loud and it resembled all of the things she wanted to be. Racy, Daring, Fun and it reminded of her of a bee, which she loved, because it was bright yellow and black.

It would take her to places she had never been before where the only limit was the fuel she could put in the tank. She would pack her bag and drive to her parents, once the caring for them was over for the weekend, she would return to her family. Racing the fast cars along the forest roads with a smile stretched out across her face. She felt alive behind the wheel, with a spirit of adventure, just for that short time.

It gave her the freedom she had so long craved. Freedom from the day to day, whatever the weather. The other motorists smiled as she passed them by. Her happiness beaming like a beacon across her face. She loved that car, for all it represented to her and they had no idea.

The Daily Post – Yellow