Rebuild

I wake from dreams I’d rather not see,

In places where I don’t want to be.

My hands are shaking, blood pumping fast.

Why must this feeling of betrayal last.

As I rise, with face engorged,

To gather my armour and my sword.

Feet placed firmly upon the ground.

But my body spinning round and round.

Ready at the moment to let battle commence,

If I had my time again would get off the fence.

Would I show the truth behind the lies,

The ones betraying, the hidden spies.

Who caused hurt and pain and such a mess,

And deeds which broke me, causing distress.

So as I stand with my feet on the floor,

Heading out towards the door.

Was I as strong as everyone thought,

When I left that place, hurt and distraught.

Still in a spin now years have passed.

Oh why oh why does this feeling last.

As though on my axis, my own planet.

Why haven’t I got over this yet?

I wake from this and start to think,

So many times I’ve been to the brink.

What thoughts or deeds send me there,

Haven’t I moved on, so why should I care.

The feeling as raw as if it were the day,

The rug from me was pulled away.

Years of my life, hard work was gone.

Did not know what I’d done wrong.

Punished for strength and loyalty,

Tying me down, not setting me free.

Wanting them one day to make amends,

And doing my best to still stay friends.

But friends are not what they’ve been to me,

By removing the plasters, the wounds they’d see.

Time has not healed the hurt they caused,

Left in their wake, the bodies they’ve gorged.

They say in business there are no friends,

So why time and thoughts I continue to defend.

Let me go, I’ve paid the fee

Wish I could continue to rebuild me.

The Daily Post – Transformation

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Vivid Dream

Vivid dreaming with fine detail,

Will set me off upon the trail.

Who knows what the search will uncover,

Embittered colleague or star crossed lover.

Now is not the time for revenge.

My guardian angel to avenge.

When dented armour leaves me broken,

Let’s not have it out in the open.

Put it away back in the dark,

These things already left their mark.

Scars and wounds all laid bare,

Now hidden again, I do not care.

For I am not who I used to be,

The frightened, bullied, victim, Me.

It’s part of the learning,or growing pain

Get through this there’s so much to gain.

One day, or even through one night,

To build reserve, enough to fight.

The body exhausted too much to speak,

Will I haul myself up to reach the peak.

It’s all part of the bigger picture,

Thrown together the strangest mixture.

Emotions raw from this train wreck,

In earth’s huge matter a minute speck.

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.

 

Spirits

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The spirits which visited me so regularly, have gone elsewhere.
My sleep is no longer haunted, my dreams less so.
I do not wake in a cold sweat feeling as though touched by something evil.
I cannot feel it’s breath upon my face, it caressing my hair.
There is no longer someone seated at the end of the bed when I am jolted awake in the night.

I am healing, nurtured by the safety of the love around me
Happy in the knowledge that it is genuine.
I will not come to any harm
My faithful hound at my feet, guarding me from evil forces.
Comforting me when I am restless
I can sleep safe in the knowledge that this is indeed a good place.

_______

Since writing this only 2 months ago, it has sat in my draft folder. It did not seem the right time to post it although our lives were feeling positive and as though finally turning a corner. We were calm, satisfied with the way things were at the time and looking forward to how our Summer was supposed to be.  And then it happened. An experience much like the first verse again. I awoke shouting trying to send it away.  A bad dream? It felt like something else….

Since then all manner of hell has unleashed itself upon our family and our world has been turned upside down. At the moment, I know longer feel that I know most of what is good and true, it seems often alien to me. I have almost lost the two biggest things in my life, it has changed beyond recognition in a mere 2 months. I have changed into an angry, sad and unreserved person, who speaks using words I would never have used before. Before, I would have kept my mouth shut. I am not proud of the language which is shooting out of my mouth, showing my pain to anyone and everyone.  It is borne out of frustration for the life I am currently in and is not directed at people, but it is unpleasant for me to be around, so I have kept myself away for fear of offending. I have never been this person before and I think it shows my weakness for all to see.  I don’t like being this person.  Although I want to change, I feel incapable right now of doing so. I am hurting, in pain and it won’t go away. I want our life to change for the better, I feel that I cannot cope with worse and I am fighting each day just to remain on top of it all, when the instinct is to hide under the wave of whatever has come our way, until it has passed.  Fight or Flight? Hunker down and it might pass, that is part of the old me, but it just isn’t passing. It needs a really hard shove and it is threatening to swallow me whole.   I feel helpless to handle it and just like an inner child, I want it to go away, somewhere else, where it can harm us no more.  Where we will not be tormented or scared, whether we choose to admit it or not.  I want the hell to go. I keep reminding myself that I AM STRONG, it doesn’t feel like I am at the moment. I need that strength to return to me, ten times over, not just have fighting talk but to take action. I don’t want to be frightened, I do not want to live in torment any longer or waiting for something worse to happen to us and I want it to be stopped before it does. I need to wake from this living nightmare, calm, refreshed and able to take it head on and totally slay it, just like the dragons.

Image: Morguefile.com

The Spiral Staircase

The Daily Post – Stairway

I am not quite sure when it became apparent to me, but one of my lasting memories as a child was the recurring dream.  I dreaded it’s arrival as I felt so out of control when it happened. The dream itself took on so many forms over the years, but always somewhere at some point in there was a spiral, almost like being in a vacuum somehow, being pulled always backwards downward as though on a spiral staircase.  Although it would always start slowly, as time went on, it would then drag me way too fast and I was powerless to stop it.  The sick dizzy feeling that going backwards fast can give you somehow remained with me once I had awoken.  I was very small when it happened for the first time.  In adult life, both physically and emotionally, I don’t like going backwards, I refuse to travel backwards on a train, it messes with my senses, gives me a headache and makes me dizzy again, bringing back that old familiar dreamlike feeling.  I also dislike not making progress however small, since I am naturally impatient and have to curb that sometimes, it seems to be a driving force.  Static is almost as bad as the backward spiral and I continue to fight against them both.

Slaying the Dragon

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The proverbial dragon with fiery breath,
You’ll have to fight with until the death.
Your confidence captured it will trash,
Pray for a knight in armour to dash.
They call her the Dragon, the Witch and much more.
Collects trophies from the past, she’s keeping score.
Watching over like an evil Queen
Preying upon a weakness she’s seen.
Enemies have fallen in her wake,
Before her in their boots they’ll quake.
She’ll have her own way, or she’ll roar
Have you scrambling for the door.
With one fell swoop she’d reduce them to tears,
Been getting away with it all these years.
But just when she thinks that you’ll beat,
Away from her a hasty retreat.
Suddenly you grew so much stronger,
This couldn’t go on any longer
Dressed in your armour, you summoned your power
No longer the safety of her Ivory tower.
Scramble the walls and to battle, my dear,
To win over the dragon and conquer your fear.
Over all of the energy she would invest,
One day the dragon is laid to rest.
Trampled and broken on the floor,
Gone from your life, you’ve won the war.

The Yellow Tutu

On the 19th of March, Women all of the world donned their yellow Tutus and marched to raise awareness for this condition. I didn’t wear one myself, or march on this occasion but I fondly recall my own yellow tutu and it takes me right back.

I think I was about 8 years old when I was given my beloved yellow Tutu, my mother had made it. She had made one for me, in turquoise blue with a yellow tutu skirt and I adored it, she also made one for my cousin in her favourite colour, pink. I felt absolutely beautiful in it and it was totally inspiring. At the time I had aspirations of becoming a dancer. I’d even been practicing my ballet steps. I had pink ballet shoes and pink ballet tights, which had been given to me as presents by well wishing neighbours and friends of the family.

But, My clever Mum had made me a tutu and I was over the moon! My cousin and I skipped upstairs and put on our Tutu’s and had our photographs taken, by our grandparents proceeding to dance around the living room. Just little girls playing but a dream was in my head and at that moment it was reality and I was truly happy. I was going to be a dancer, at the time I was sure. I wanted to share the photograph of that day, of two little girls in their ballet costumes at a Christmas family party, but it has been mislaid in the numerous moves, so we will have to content ourselves with sharing the moment.

But I digress, the significance now it seems of a yellow tutu is to unite the ladies of Endometriosis throughout the world. Not content with mere yellow ribbons, we have stepped it up a gear and decided to make a bolder statement, so if you have seen ladies walking along in their yellow Tutu‘s this month, or unusually wearing yellow, this may just be the reason for it.