All that I am.

And as I drew the picture in my head as I have so many times before.

The image began to take form.

I saw before Me a large egg shape intricately decorated. Standing strident behind it a small blonde woman. An unlikely looking warrior with a look of determination upon her face as she swung the hammer high, bringing it down heavy upon the egg, into which were engraved the words, Hate. Fear. Loathing. Anger. Sickness. Poverty. So that they were gone, shattered fragments of a past, no place for them and as she stood there a smile spreading across her face.

Ready to rise from the things that bound her up to that point. A past which no longer served her.

There she stood reborn. Unknowing as to what would happen next. Her new beginnings ready to grow from the remains of an eggshell.

And finally these words sprang forth from the debris.

Fearless. Kind. Unafraid. Beautiful. Strong. Loved. Relentless. Healthy.

Prosperous.

All that I am and much more.

Daily Prompt Finally

Artists Unknown.

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This Once Was Home

I sat in the garden looking at night sky
And thinking about it began to sigh.

I sat there silent it’s fair to mention,

My body ached from all the tension.

Remember that this once was home.

The place where I could be alone. 

Peace and quiet alone with thought, 

Not sitting feeling overwrought. 

With home comforts all around. 

Windows closed would block the sound.

Of the world and people passing by.

Watching as the time would fly.

A quiet haven to rest my head.

The cosy sofa, the comfy bed.

Neighbours with whom a hand I’d lend,

Small garden with plants that I could tend.

But now as I wait for Spring to call

Here I sit trapped in these four walls.

Life as we know it before this began, 

Now altered forever because of one man.

So much has changed I feel locked in,

No escape from the stress and din.

Wanting once more to get out.

Making me want to cry and shout.

The peace is shattered, the calm is too,

I crave to find that something new.

A place where I am at my best,

A home to thrive, a place to rest.

Natures beauty there to please,

Surrounding you will put you at ease.

A personal space to call my own,

Which once again I’ll feel is home.

I’ll keep looking I’ll search with care, 

To find the place that is out there. 

The plans have changed, our dreams have too,

But we’re still in it, it’s me and you.

Wherever we go on this journey of ours, 

We’ll stop a moment to smell the flowers.

Shall plant some new ones on the way, 

Put down some roots, as they say.

Life will be once more safe and secure.

The countryside an obvious lure.

A house, a cottage, a bungalow,

A place for us to thrive and grow.

It’s time to move on, or start to roam

And find this house to call a home. 

Excitement and new challenges await.

Walk down the street and open the gate.

The new life we will soon have begun,

Once there you’ll know you’ve found the one. 

A Clean Break

It was going so well, and then I fell…..

I remembered that my brother used to use this phrase, but it was usually injected with humour after he had done something on a night out, when he had been foolish and got drunk and got caught out in his actions.
I haven’t done anything involving alcohol for a while now or which would apply in this scenario.

However I feel this morning that this saying applies to me.

You see in all of what happened during last year, In August I was referred back for counselling and have been trying to get through everything with the loving support of my family and friends. Sometimes barely holding it together but somehow scraping through. I have been on a list and in the past couple of weeks have been questioning whether I actually need that counselling when my turn comes. I thought that I have been able to heal from last year and had made progress especially since the arrival of furry son #2, otherwise known as the care bear. After all I can now leave the house without fear or panic although I am still watching my back. I have been able to go visiting friends and family and get the shopping again and keep the small quantity of appointments that have been made. I even got and made it through a job interview which was real progress. With legs that felt like lead I walked to it, lightheaded and feeling nausea coming over in waves as I tried it o remember to breathe in full blown panic. I cannot recall what I said to myself to calm me down before I went inside other than, they are only human and if it’s meant to be. Then it’s meant to be.

I came out of there feeling that it had gone well, I was told that I interviewed well and the woman spoke about two jobs that she felt I would be right for. I said that of the two, personally I felt I would be better suited to one of them and she said she would let me know. It was a little over a week before Christmas. I heard nothing. After Christmas I contacted the person who had called me for interview to see if she had any news. She chased up the interviewer and came back to me with apologies for the delay but I did not get either job. Fair enough it clearly wasn’t meant to be but it was a setback.
[However the job search continued and I apply for anything that I feel I can do, old want to do. You see I do not have an industry. I want to find new things. I had a thirst for new experiences and knowledge. I have worked in several industries and yes, there are some I would be happy to return to and other’s I was glad when that episode of my life ended. ]
Meanwhile I have been bonding with our adopted dog and here for my partner who has been unwell. We have spent this valuable time together and both feel that it has been essential to our healing. We have talked openly about depression in both of us and the physical care that he now needs on a daily basis due to his health issues. I am that care giver. I wondered out loud last week how he would cope if I were not. It didn’t please him I should have kept my thoughts inside. We have talked about our escape from this place and the situation which has left us feeling so melancholy and the fact that the authorities are powerless to stop the man who is still running wild and free having threatened our very existence for several months of last year. Life is not the same for us. Our loss and grief continues to marr what could be such a good life and threatens our happiness on a daily basis. Thoughts of our beloved dog and how sick he became due to the actions of that person. My partner and I have also become sick through it all both physically and mentally we have struggled through it and we are not out the other side yet.

Yes I am angry. Not in a twisted way or hellbent on revenge as some might be. I am trying to forgive but I am unable to do that yet. I feel as though the only way that will happen is when I no longer see his evil smile. It is not a kind, happy smile which welcomes you. It is an angry sneer belittling everything you do or feeling that you have whilst he is planning his next move. I can do nothing but watch and wait anticipation it before it happens and trying to diffuse the anger that builds since he is getting away with it. Treating the authorities and the people who look after him, despite the fact he is more than capable of looking after himself, with utter contempt and disdain. He is pulling the wool over their eyes an accomplished actor donning many disguises to play the parts. He has them fooled, he can even do meek and mild and quietly reserved until they bring him back and his champion of the world kicks back in to rule with an iron fist and all the time he knows exactly what he is doing, the consequences of his actions and the mayhem and upset that he wreaks.

I thought that I was coping with it all but I am dogged with a voice two octaves lower than it should be. A gravelly throat with visible lumps inside it and a persistent cough which chokes me at night. This is not a metaphor but it so easily could be. It is the reality and I am stifled. The police told me that I could not say these things about him. That it may incite violence or ill feeling towards him and that he is vulnerable. So for months now I have felt stifled and unable to speak. At times I have almost lost my voice, literally hoarse from a condition which My doctor told me was brought on by stress. The lumps come and go Antibiotics have no effect upon them. I wonder if there is any physiological reason for it. Is it connected to the pain and temporary deafness which comes and goes. My referral to the ENT department cannot come soon enough. But I cannot help wondering if it all stems from this trauma which continues to play with everything I do or think.

I thought I may not need the counselling that there is someone out there who may be more deserving of it. A letter arrived this week asking me if I still required it. I wasn’t sure. My partner was very matter of fact he told me to get on the phone. There are things that you sometimes feel you want to talk about with others. We can talk about anything but as he has figured from my past experience with the counselling, we need to go and do it and get that other perspective. From someone who is outside of the situation and whose judgement is not clouded by knowing how you think. I have requested the same counsellor since the barriers of getting to know someone even in that controlled environment have already been broken down. She was like a new friend to me. I appreciate everything she told me, both personal and professionally in our sessions and it would be nice to see her again as she knows my history to an extent.

I have realised in the past two days that I have a long way to go before I have recovered from this trauma and ordeal. I have been trying to kid myself that it was over and I could move on but it isn’t. The realisation that the creature over the road has been biding his time, waiting for the fuss to die down so that he can start all over again has been tough to stomach. With the arrival of mysterious foodstuffs placed in sections of the garden in places the dog could find have made me realise he is up to his old tricks again. My partner called him on it and other neighbours have seen him throwing food into our garden. We have picked it up and inspected it, but poisons can be unscented but when food is spoiled it does change consistency and colour. So far we have not seen any sickness but when the pup is off his food with a hot nose we worry that we may have missed something and he has found it. But I will not let the creature rule this year. I will not live in fear again whilst he flaunts his carefree existence. He will not tie us up in knots day after day worrying, but he already is, the sickness I feel in the stomach is already there with a gut feeling that knows he has already got to us so I must learn to stop that. There has been a distinct shift in our moods since the arrival of the odd food in the garden and we check for more before we let the dog out there. Every time and thoroughly.

I know that to get out of the situation here would be a new start, a clean break would be a positive thing for us and I am trying to make that happen but I need help. A new job, a new home should be a positive thing, but why does it feel that we are giving up and running away. Why should we be chased off by a situation we cannot fix? We have spent six months trying to think of another way, trying to make it work here and get on with our lives. Our lives have been on hold, waiting for the problem to be dealt with by the authorities and we are no nearer a resolution. I cannot sit and wait, I do not want our time to run out, or be cut short by someone who feels that their actions will never be accountable. He has no fear, a whole lot of other problems maybe but no fear.

I need to move us on from this, to stop it eating away at us to reboot our onboard thinking we are not running away, but are making a break for freedom from this. Life has dealt us some blows, thrown a few bricks at us. It is time we begin to build new things with them.

The Daily Post – Clean

How Many Do We Get?

A leading question and forgive me for a moment if I’m going to go deep…

I am talking about how many chances to make a new life? Something better than before, or at least different. I am sometimes likened to a cat by those who know me, but I wonder whether I have the nine lives people so often speak of. I don’t know how many chances I have had. I have never thought to count them before or even how many I may have already used up and I’m not going to start now.  For whatever the answer is, I am grateful.

What I do know is that throughout our life we are given so many opportunities to make it different. Some we may miss. It may be that we simply don’t see them at the time. Or that they come out of nowhere and we reach out and life as we know it changes completely.

I want to tell you about one such time in my life. It was 8 years ago (Oh how time flies) this week, just days before my Birthday.

I had prayed so long for the moment, hell I’d even begged for it. The operation which I was sure would change my adult life from the one that had been plagued thus far with pain and illness. Once they had found out that the cause of all this misery was Endometriosis, an incurable condition and I had met the specialist, then he could set about sorting me out finally. I was overflowing with hope of what would come to me in my new life after they agreed to give me a full hysterectomy. The pressure in the past that I’d felt, to provide children to complete my existence was suddenly removed and I could finally move on from it. By just announcing “I can’t have children”, instead of the wistful ” I don’t have children…. yet.” Somehow the weight was instantly lifted and it was just accepted by others as well as myself. It was also possible that since my pain and symptoms were cyclical and my menstrual cycle outweighed the rest of the month, this surgery just might put an end to it in one fell swoop. It was a drastic approach, but I had tried everything else that was suggested and it hadn’t worked, I was by then absolutely desperate.

Of course I had the last minute doubts before the operation because it was so final. But, the pro’s definitely outweighed con’s in my mind as I thought about the opportunity to actually start living and be able to follow some of my dreams without being held back by my condition at last. My partner was a tower of strength and supported my decision all the way, he wasn’t going anywhere he said, we were in this together.

There were moments in the past where I had gone after a dream and encouraged by my partner had gone far and achieved things that I had not thought possible.

I awoke from the operation euphoric. Full of hope for what might come next in our lives, after the three months recovery time at home I would need. Thankful for being given the chance at starting my adult life over again. I was now going to be able to go out there and actually begin to live it! I was also extremely grateful that this time I had understanding bosses who had agreed the time off on full pay that I would need. It was such a huge relief that we did not have that particular stress hanging over us through that.

I healed really quickly on the outside and felt invincible and ready to take on the world. My partner held on tightly to the reigns for a while to stop me doing something that would set my recovery back and I started straight away on HRT patches so that I wouldn’t go into a menopausal state with immediate effect. I didn’t want to go through that on top of it all and since I was young I wanted something that would protect me from the brittle bones often suffered post menopause for as long as possible. I am still using them.

So how do I feel 8 years on from this?  Did my new life begin? Was it as awesome as I thought it would become back then?

Well, yes I got a new life compared to the old one. It started to be like most lives, it’s been a pretty mixed bag.  Not always awesome, it has been filled with ups and downs, we have been sick and healthy, jobs have come and gone. I have lost people and loved ones along the way. I have fought for what I believed in, I have tried to remain strong even when I did not think it were possible.  I have often felt as though I am at rock bottom but I have had my loved ones beside me along the way but most of all it is not over yet.  There is no “fat lady” singing yet.

I have gone sometimes off at tangents over the past few years, not really knowing where it would lead but I want the other chances which might be open to me.  A life can be long or short, we have no way of knowing which of those we will have.  As mine continues I will look for the opportunities in the hope that they present themselves as often as possible. I hope I will find them, at the corner of every street, on every day that I am lucky to wake up and to breathe and in every person I am lucky enough to meet. Yes, I do see those things as blessings, sometimes in disguise, but experience is gained from every encounter.

I haven’t yet worked out for my purpose is for this world, I feel as though somehow I am being led to help others.  I am not sure of the direction but I am certain that I have a place and I belong here and I want to make a difference, somewhere to someone.

 

The Winds of Change.

5f516df17513e549856b29d664e78474.jpg12/11/16

There has been a distinct shift in our lives the past week or so…

There was bound to be, we have dealt with some more upset caused by this Summer’s issues with our neighbour here, which we are trying to resolve now that we have caught our breath from the journey back from Scotland and have to settle in for the winter here.

The arrival of our new furry son has brought smiles to our faces and  happiness to our hearts again and he is settling in and finding his feet, we are setting the boundaries and so far so good, his re-training in certain things is progressing. The original training has held him in good stead and he is eager to please us.

My partner has reached a big Birthday, which has quite obviously got him thinking about what he does and doesn’t want to do with his life.  So this week marks the end of a voluntary career with the local community spanning around ten years.  During this time, he has worked tirelessly for the benefit of others, often been ostracized for his work and suffered abuse and downright harrassment at times, often from unexpected directions.

He has decided this week that he does not want to be involved in the politics of it any more, to be ruled by it all and last night tendered his resignation upon the advice of a police officer who felt that the neighbourhood situation may calm down if he steps out of the public eye.  He has given it alot of thought and emailed his resignation last night.  I can tell that it was not as easy a decision as he first thought, there is disappointment at mistreatment and lack of support throughout the summer and over the years. But this morning he tells me that he is happier to be out of the game, the back-stabbing and if he is no longer involved, then he does not have to be a part of it.

I guess, he’s just finally had enough.

Today he is quiet, pensive and thoughtful. He is trying to dot the I’s and cross the T’s. Tie up any loose ends, he is dealing with things. I don’t know what he plans to do next, but I am sure that whatever it is, he will throw himself wholeheartedly into it and give it his best shot.  After all, that is the man he is and doubtless I will support him with it in whatever way possible.  We are a team, a partnership and I stand by his side.

15/11/16 I wonder what will come next…  Am I apprehensive? Maybe a little, but change is supposed to be good. I should welcome it, goodness knows we needed so much to change and are fed up with leaving things to chance so why am I unsure?

Last night there was a Supermoon, he encouraged me to make wishes.  Although there were sightings of it the night before, I was waiting to see it but it was hidden by fog last night here.  I wish we had been up on the hill, where I am sure it would have been huge and bright and I would have bathed in it’s glory.  But I did manage to get a good look at it the night before and the dog and I sat in the back garden gazing up in wonder at it.  Will my wishes come to fruition, I hope so but am pleased that some of them already have.

The Daily Post – Waiting Image: Morguefile.com

Physical or Emotional

Scars.  Sometimes blatant, there staring you in the face. Like it or not. A constant reminder of things you want to forget, of the circumstances surrounding your particular experience. Sometimes unseen, kept under wraps, from the things you are trying to convince yourself that are making you stronger. Sometimes there is no outward sign at all, hiding the actions or the words of others.

Emotional ones may heal in time with understanding and effort, but wherever they happen to be indelible upon the person they remain.

Scars will never go completely, they change you. Some will wear them with pride, some will hide them away. Whatever your own personal choice, if you have them you cannot escape them. Some women will bear the scars of childbirth, for them it may be a wonderful thing, a celebration of something beautiful to show for all the pain.

The Daily Post

#Linkyourlife