You Wouldn’t Believe It if I Told You…

You wouldn’t believe it if I told you…

For the last month I have had a fantastical life, full of amazing things. Having spoken to several of my friends, most feel that they could not have coped with just one of the many things that Life has chosen to throw at us as a family. I would not wish any of them upon anyone else.

As I write this, part of me cannot quite believe that it has been only 5 weeks since all this began. It seems to have been an endless onslaught sent to try us and that we are still fighting, the reality is that it started long ago and I don’t know exactly when and just stepped up a gear in the past few weeks.

During this time, I have been trying to hold it together and although I wanted to write (so much), I have done little more than write my diary, sometimes there is just not enough room in there. I have also written a few poems. But the ones I wanted to write have not come to me, I am holding them back somehow. One will be difficult as it will be going onto a memorial and I need to keep it short and get it just right. But I have felt that as I look back through my writings, I may not want to be reminded of just how dark and painful the past few weeks have been and have at times wondered whether I will be coming out of it at the end.

Our little world, which is at times cozy, (but not very often) has been torn open. Not apart, you must understand, for we have been trying to remain strong and united together through it all. I think it might have been easier if I had been able to lock myself away until it had all gone away again, or calmed down, or at least I could learn to deal with it perhaps in my own way. Instead, it has been there in my face, like a two year old’s tantrum forcing me to deal with it there and then. Because someone else has needed my immediate help to get through it too, it has opened old wounds, laid bare things that have been buried for such a long time and renewed grief which has not healed. So I am seriously outside of my comfort zone and I have been tested like never before. Not just I, you understand but Life as I know it. For it has been torn open, ripped out and scattered all over the floor, there for the dissection of others and their judgement. It has been impossible to distance myself from or look at things logically, when there seems to be no logic. People that we know and love, who have claimed to be there for us, have been hurtful with their words and failed to understand and we are left feeling very isolated. In the aftermath of such torrents of words, isolated is the safest place. We will come out of it fighting and despite the attempts, it hasn’t killed us yet. Life has been reaping a whirlwind in our direction. No, actually although I have been fortunate enough not to be caught up in a Twister of the natural kind, it is exactly how I imagine it to be. Where life as you know it and all of the things that you love and surround you are swept up in front of your eyes and thrown for miles scattered everywhere and life as you know it suddenly changes completely, beyond recognition. But people can come back from Twister’s don’t they? They don’t all die do they? But their lives change immeasurably after such an event.

So as I write this I realise that we have been going through our very own Twister. But that because I am one of those people who believes in positive thinking, I do think that we will be able to get through it and in time rebuild our lives. Maybe this is the drastic shake up of everything in our lives and we need to make and change in such a massive way that has to start now. Life is not the same. We have loved, lost, been broken, been betrayed. In the past five weeks, I have almost lost my life partner after an attack where the man cannot be charged, due to his mental illness, which has in recent months been fuelled by additional drugs supplied by a new neighbour. I have also suffered a physical attack which has left me needing hospital treatment and afterwards scarred and devastated. But I am healing, more quickly on the outside than inside. We have lost our beloved furry son, at the young age of five years old to what we thought was a sudden illness and tumours, to be told that this may have been brought on by poisoning by a neighbour. Three people have since intimated that they knew he has done this before. Our darling boy is gone forever and our family has been damaged by grief and the actions of some, who when we needed their emotional support they turned on us with words. Things said I would hope, only in the heat of the moment. For if it was said with prior thought it is even more painful to deal with the hurt that it caused. Emotions run high in grief and if they speak their minds and choose then to speak with vitriol, how do you come back from something so devastating? We have had threats of criminal damage against our property and homes and are being tormented by the people that wish to carry out such threats and attempts constantly, the authorities are involved but the wheels of justice grind slowly. Attempts on a life which has spent years helping others within the local community, only to be turned on by people considered a vulnerable by the authorities due to the substance abuse they have inflicted upon themselves, in calculated and premeditated attempts, which have us not wanting to leave the sanctity of our home.

But they will not win. We are still living and breathing and fighting day by day. The ones whom I hold dear to me are either gone or left in pieces, which need rebuilding. I have to believe that this is truly rock bottom and we have reached it. We have been at breaking point time and again and it is time to turn this around. Simply because I refuse to accept any more bad luck, misery and misfortune to come our way. Whoever is sending it, can have it right back, tenfold and Yes, that goes against the grain, but if someone is sending it, then it’s already out there and I don’t want it. I do believe in Magic, good and bad and also that Love conquers all after all, Love is Stronger than Hate.

Time heals. I just wish that it would get a move on!
There are big decisions which we are making which will affect our future, the way that we do things, where we may live, how we will cope with things and what is left of us at the end of it all. Meanwhile, it is my duty to protect what we have, both spiritually, emotionally and physically wherever I can. If you are united and working together to fix something, then it is stronger, we will become impenetrable. We will rebuild our walls and be very careful who we let inside, more caution is needed.

I don’t know what the future holds for us, I hope that the happiness and laughter returns. That we will create a fulfilling and happy life, full of love and as we reach our twenty first anniversary in a couple of weeks from now. I am sure that we will make it and past that to enjoy many more years together.
They have tried to break us but did not succeed, we are stronger than that. We are together for a reason, or even several and as you know, I LOVE a reason.

 

The Daily Post – Complicated

O Grande Amor, the song of stress.

Stan Getz

I simply cannot explain it.  It’s bizarre but I had to listen to this fantastic album again yesterday to find out that this is the name of the song which I have noticed that I hum to myself in times of stress.  I had mistakenly thought it was another on the album, which I catch myself humming when things are getting all too much.  It starts off as an unconscious thing, but then I realise and it is like an old friend, immediately calming.

I first recall the regularity of humming it whilst walking through the corridors of the cardiac unit with my father, when he returned to see the consultant after having a heart bypass. But it has been with me far longer than that, occasionally I attempt to sing parts of it too.  I have owned the album for many years, since 1998 when I began to buy CD’s more often than cassette tapes. I have also found that after arguments it also mysteriously appears.

I have no idea as to the why?  I am unable to shed any light upon why of all the music I have heard over the years and grown up with, this is the one which returns and why there is one at all. Perhaps there is some deep seated reason I have yet to find out, but  I do love the song and I know that I love listening to Jazz music.

Stan Getz & Joao Gilberto – O Grande Amor

A Midsummer Night

The beautiful moon on Midsummer night
Watching as the clouds go on in flight,
Rushing under an enchanted full moon
Which passes us by all too soon.
I throw open the blinds and welcome the sight
To see the room bathed in its’ light.
Laying in a pool to feel its balm
Taking over that sense of calm.
Once in a lifetime. Gone too soon
As it’s beauty and light fills the room.
I’m so excited I cannot sleep,
Wondering what blessings we’ll reap
How our lives may change for the best,
And when I’ll enjoy peaceful rest.
So wrapped myself up in a blanket of white,
Watching their step as the angels alight.
They’ve come so far to visit me,
dancing around and setting me free.
As I tell them that I’m not ready to go,
Despite the battle of highs and low.
My work around here has only begun,
So I’m not content to skip and run.
Will they assist me as I prepare,
To cleanse and grow, my soul laid bare.
So as I watch the moon at its height.
Not thinking at all of my recent plight.
But of new things which may come our way,
As we dance headlong into the fray.
It is far better than counting sheep,
Watching the moon as you’re trying to sleep.
Watching the reflections starting to gleam,
A part of my own Midsummer Night’s dream
With her smiling down upon your face,
As you cherish living in this special place.
Laying awake and looking at stars,
Searching for planets, Jupiter, Mars.
There’s a wondrous world out there,
If you take just a moment to share
In the beauty that’s heaven sent.
As you watch the moons ascent.
The light is changing a new day has come,
As you drift into sleep with the rising sun.
It was a moment, so special and bright
Bathed by the moon on Midsummer night.

 

The Daily Post – Summer

Envy, Just Look at What You’ve Missed…

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Just look at what you’ve missed…
So, don’t be jealous, be thankful.

I had a poor childhood, we often went without.
I was Bullied at School.
I was abused as a Child.
My first ‘real’ boyfriend cheated on me with my friend.
I had a miscarriage.
I developed an illness which is incurable.
I had a stalker.
I almost lost the love of my life to surgery, twice.
I have suffered in pain for years.
I have had several horrendous jobs, some resulting in redundancy.
I have suffered loss and grief time and again.
I have been raped.
I have suffered with depression.
I have considered suicide on several occasions.
I have disfiguring injuries.
I have had major surgery, which has changed me.
I will never have the joy of bearing children.
I have no child to care for me when I am old.
I could have lost my soul mate to Cancer.
I have had my life threatened with violence.
I have had people threaten to burn down my home.
I have been at rock bottom so many times that I have a seat there with my name on it.
I am fighting battles which I have not yet won.

So before you envy me for the things that I have in my life, think and be glad for all the things you have missed out on.

The Daily Post – Envy

Gathering Plotlines for the writer on the train, or finding inspiration in the strangest of places.

I am transported back to a train or tube journey, I cannot recall which of the two that it was, but I was in a carriage several years ago. As I travelled across London, a young lady sat across the carriage from me wildly writing on post it notes throughout her journey. Peeling them off and sticking them to her knee as she went.
At the time, it struck me as odd. I was not the only one who wondered what she might be doing, what she was trying so hard to remember. Her brow furrowed as she did so. The pen clearly not writing quite as fast as she was thinking.

What odd behaviour, I thought, like many others around us within the carriage. I wondered if she was alright, her demeanour frantic. Now as I am transported back to this image and memory, I have a better understanding of how when writing, a flash of inspiration can strike at the most inopportune moment, you grab the nearest thing and begin to write, the urge taking hold of you completely. Words tumbling across the page, if you are lucky enough to have a page in front of you at the time, but arriving even faster than it is possible to write them down. At the end of her journey, she collected them all up and shoved them into her bag as she alighted at her station, her eyes darting from side to side as she left.

Thinking back, I hoped that she was a writer. That whatever temporary madness was caused by the stream of thoughts would be outweighed by her talent. That her words and thoughts were wonderful and would be read by many and appreciated. I silently wished her all the best in her endeavours.

We all have our places for inspiration, I have always been a bit of a people watcher, I also have a fairly good memory for people. I don’t usually forget a name and I can recall people and moments in time from many years ago. This is at times both a blessing and a hindrance, but for writing it gives me a plethora of people at my disposal which will form characters in stories, just as they have done in my life. I spend a lot of time up on the hill, which I enjoy writing about, whenever I am searching for solitude, or rest and need to replenish my soul it is my sanctuary, but alas it is not where I spend all of my time. I also live elsewhere, closer to my family and the places I grew up. I have thought about moving from this place on several occasions in the past few years, but have always stayed relatively close, choosing not to sever the ties here.

It occurred to me today that I have the perfect window on the world here for my writing so why would I wish to move… I am perfectly situated on a busy road, which overlooks a school playing field. When the children are not there, it is a green space with rabbits running wild and leads to allotments, where people come and go at all times of the day and night. It is a busy corner of the street, heading towards a nursery, where children are dropped and collected and their play is heard all day. There is also a primary and secondary school. The parents park outside the house and walk their children in, gathering outside to meet their friends, talk, smoke or just walk past. There is also a cycle path, where people jog on a Tuesday night and it is not the best time to walk a lively dog. The scouts meet over the road, the meeting place of an almost secret society, which I have never been privy to. There is a leisure centre down the road, and shops nearby, with enough characters to fill a multitude of books and that is without the ones that I have actually met over the years.

I also have considered that I may have too many pairs of pyjamas in my cupboard. As I put away the washing earlier, I noticed them just sitting in the cupboard all clean and folded in a multitude of colours, ready to sit around in all day, whilst I write my bestseller. More than a different pair for every day of the week is probably just greedy, I have amassed them over the years, not knowing that it was in readiness for such a time as this, when I am sitting up writing at 3am again and feel the need to change into fresh ones when I am finished and ready to sleep. I don’t have the heart to throw any of them away, strangely the different colours can offer inspiration and tone to my writing, dependent on which ones I am wearing. Red can be racy, Sky Blue can be dreamy, Lemon can remind me of Spring, Lavender of France and Black can be just plain dark or sultry. Hmm, Is that more than slightly mad and I wonder, can a girl have too many pairs? Surely they are like shoes aren’t they, a girl can never have too many pairs…

Hope is Waiting

Hope sits waiting.

She is ready, willing and able.

For when you have conquered it you can go out and face it all once again.
Garaged, Off Road for when your new life awakes.
A tank full of fuel and her bodywork gleaming, like a crystal blue lake.
Bringing back your smile, as you race towards Adventure together once again.
She is patient, relaxed and all the things you are not.

You must never abandon Hope, you must allow her to pick you up and travel the journey together, experience what Life holds just around the corner, as you travel along the road in your bid for freedom.

There may be twists and turns, unexpected obstacles, but Hope will get you through.

India Blue – Hope is What it Represents

The Daily Post – Hope is Waiting

 

The Brain Dump, Where does it come from?

It’s been happening again, what can only be referred to as a Brain Dump. Every once in a while, my head feels like what happens to a computer, right when there is a blue screen and it begins a crash dump.
Hopefully at this point your disk drive doesn’t fry aswell. On occasions it has, that is NOT a metaphor. It has actually happened. Note to self, I may need some new technology.

Meanwhile, for those who are blissfully unaware, the brain dump wakes you up, but not quite. So you feel that you are sleeping, but you are actually aware of your surroundings.

It starts to dispose of random things in your head, clearing out what may, or may not be rubbish and you are not in control of what it may select. At times, I have found it rather disturbing, since you never know when it is coming your way, how long it may last and sometimes, there will be a real gem in there, which afterwards will be gone forever. You see, you are not awake enough to write it down, or record your thought in any way, it remains totally illogical, a collection of random thoughts which go through your head and upon fully waking you cannot recall most of it.

I noticed previously, that it used to happen most on a Saturday morning, when I did not have to rise early for work, and arrived usually in the early hours after a particularly stressful week. At times, it has given me the freedom from upset, a release from a distressing situation, which up to that point my have been ruling me. Other times, it can be memories from the past, which have returned to haunt or delight. I usually feel refreshed after this happens, but I cannot help but wonder how many people get it. In conversation with a lady who is a counsellor a while ago, she told me it might be my way getting rid of things which I cannot cope with. I rather think that it is a coping mechanism, but it has only manifested in the last couple of years.

Since last week was a prolific time for my writing things, I am hopeful that what spurred me on to write, was not short-lived and so must not allow my fears to conquer me. Tomorrow is another week and with it, brings new thoughts, experiences and excitement.

So, where does it come from? Answers, on a postcard, email, or comment. I’d love to be enlightened.

Hope is what it represents.

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It’s funny but figuring out what things represent, they say that it is not good to be a materialistic person. I certainly do not consider myself materialistic but I do enjoy having some of those little luxuries in my life and I have always been slightly crazy about cars..

For instance, at the moment I don’t have a regular job. In the past 12 months I have suffered with depression, grief, a lot of anger, upset, discovery about myself and the way that the past has affected me. About 10 months into that year, we decided to get rid of my Porsche. We have owned many cars over the years, a few rather nice ones. That was a lovely 40th Birthday present for me from my partner, he told me that the time was right to have one. Many years ago, when I was 27 he had offered me one, I climbed into the seat to drive it and knew instinctively where all the controls were. I had never even sat in one previously but drove this very powerful car, without fear as though it was perfectly natural. It was a brilliant car without a doubt, but common sense kicked in and I declined due to the costs of running a prestige car back then, having been bitten by the costs in the car that I had and was changing. Years later, he decided I should have one anyway, there being no time like the present and life being too short, living each day etc and I said Yes. However, 18 months on I was sure that if that went wrong it was going to financially cripple me and I had no reserves of money. So I saw sense again and we got rid of it.

During the time that we owned it, my partner has spent the whole time quietly searching for a replacement Cerulean Blue Saab, a diesel convertible, just like the one that I had, just like the one I adored and just like the one that we regretted getting rid of. He knew that I would swap the Porsche for another one of those in a heartbeat. In October, we found one and had to wait a month to go and collect it. It’s a diesel, an automatic and a convertible and is the most beautiful blue in a car that I have seen. I love it!

Currently it’s stored in the garage, there has been a lot of car vandalism around where we are living and when we returned from a holiday we found that the cars outside had been damaged. We couldn’t leave the car outside of the house and risk that, so it has stayed in the garage. It is taxed, insured and has a tank full of diesel but it is actually sitting in the garage, where it has been for 3 months and hasn’t turned a wheel.
Several of my friends and my family included have asked, “Why don’t you get rid of it, you have no money” “You can’t afford your bills easily, it will take the heat off the situation if you didn’t have it.” In the next breath, they are also the first to admit that they don’t see any of the value in having a nice car. So I’m here to tell you what the value of having a nice car actually means to me and tell you my why…

That car, is the one the same colour, type and style that I saw when I pushed my nose up against the glass many years ago and said to my partner, “If we win the lottery, can I have one of those please!” “I would like one of those.” You see, it was another dream car, one for a newer dream. Something else to work towards and hope that I would get. I never thought that it would happen and I have always pictured goals, for me it puts them in reach. I also believe that some dreams should come true.

Sometime about 2 years later I was due to have a Hysterectomy due to an ongoing battle with Endometriosis. At that time I really struggled to drive, pushing down on the clutch to change gear caused constant pain and I knew that I needed to change vehicles at least for a while. This was going to be a rather large operation, which would change my life drastically, understatement of the year! Just before that happened, my partner presented me with this beautiful car, my new dream car and a fantastic vehicle. It was everything I wanted it to be, absolutely touched all the bases and I was so thrilled to have it, it was there for when I could get behind the wheel again, his timing was excellent.

The hysterectomy came and went, recovery took several months before I was able to drive again, but I was able to drive that more comfortably since it had an automatic gearbox. It was big, safe, and beautiful and every time I sat in it, I had an ear to ear grin, it drove whisper quietly and once you hit the open road, with the roof down and the wind in your hair, you hadn’t a care in the world. It was my off-switch, my freedom and it represents so many of the good things that I wanted to happen in my life. Getting into that vehicle and just driving, can change a bad day into a good day at a stroke. It was a wonderful vehicle and the only reason that we changed it was because I wasn’t travelling enough miles and there was a section of the car, which became clogged due to lack of use. At that point I made a promise to myself that I would have a job again, which took me just far enough each day, so that it wouldn’t be detrimental to one of those engines again and he had spent almost two years looking for another one of those cars.

So back to the purpose of this explanation.
It represents, a time in my life which was very difficult and which I conquered. I had something worth living for, the freedom it gave me and a big fat smile on my face every time I saw it. To walk outside my house on the greyest of days, in the pouring rain, clamber into a warm, safe, comfortable car that I knew would take me to places I had dreamt of. It gave me hope that I could make changes for the better. So you see, when someone suggests that I get rid of it, that I cash it in, car values are not what they used to be, I would not get the return of what was spent on it, but it isn’t about the money.

It has never been about the money…

It is about the whole experience, of a beautiful blue car and I’m going to drive it again, I’m going to enjoy it and it’s going to take me to places. It is going to take me to places that I haven’t yet dreamed of, it’s going to places that I want to see. People that I want to meet. Experiences that I want to experience and all that from a bright blue car. My car has a name, rather than just calling it Blue like the one before it, this one is called Hope. Hope is what it represents for me.

Venturing Out

Stepping out slowly, almost tentative,
Your emotions heightened, sensitive.
You hear birdsong and start to listen,
A sudden emotion your eyes glisten.
Tears will flow upon your cheek,
Havoc on your emotions wreak.

Finally decided to leave your home,
There’s so many things as you roam.
An onslaught arriving on your senses,
Too much to handle, no defences.
People move around too quick,
A sudden encounter, you may feel sick.
But you have to try, come what may
To venture out, almost every day.

Just a small walk upon the road,
Need the release, such a heavy load.
A group of children always hustle,
Mother’s walking along will bustle.
Sights and sounds of the outside,
The instinct may be to run and hide.
But out there to the world you must return,
The change is that now you are willing to learn.

A small part of you, that you’re willing to give,
As you wander around where you live.
Exploring again, your steps you retrace,
Re-learning about this wonderful place.
Although you feel that your progress is slow,
Once out of the house again you know.
It’s been so long that you’ve been away,
One small step means you’ve found your way.
Don’t see you’re taking it too fast,
This recovery will have to last.

Fighting the urge of wanting to go.
No you must return to smiles and “Hello”
Not back to the safety of your four walls
Wake Up! This is your clarion call.
Life begins the moment you start,
So let it back in and open your heart.
To all that it has to offer,
When you feel that you’re getting better.

An Apology

This is an apology for blogger trulyunplugged for my mistake.

An Apology…

Just got to say, I’d give it a mention,
That it was certainly not my intention.
One that I don’t wish to repeat
Clicked on a comment and hit delete
Kind words they were, upon which I depend
Had wanted to answer and click send
Suffice to say, I’m not technically minded,
So into flat panic rebounded
Hours to fix the laptop again once more
This regular occurrence, is such a chore.
To say that I was devastated,
When something nice it had been rated.
Talking to tech, to get it back
Hope to be soon right on track.