Tag: life

Slowing the Pace 

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In the past week or so I have been thinking a lot. I’m told that my brain is fluffy since we arrived. I do feel a bit more fluffy since I have arrived, less stressed about most things and I have caught up on my sleep at last. It is good for the soul being here. I am probably letting things wash over me where previously I might have worried about them. I don’t know if it is a good or bad thing I have only been worried about him. Lately he has been doing the worrying about everything else which is really bad for him. He is getting about 4 hours sleep a night and his health and brain is suffering doing himself physical damage because he is run down. But he is like a man possessed trying to get things done, as though his time is running out. I hope it is not.

We do not have an endless time here and will have to go back South for many reasons but he does not have to do it all now. There is time and there is no schedule up here. The summer is coming, we will make preparations for our next visit before we leave.

I have been in a fuzz on the full blood pressure tablets lately but really struggled with breathlessness when I have cut back to half, despite becoming fitter due to the hill walking. So although there has been less of the usual stress clearly my body is still letting me know it still needs that different pace and medication is slowing it for me.

I am two cups of coffee into the day before I can function but am sleeping so much. Knowing that Endometriosis can wipe out your energy reserves at the drop of a hat. I am still in pain but trying to work through it on most days, not overdoing anything just trying to do something constructive each day. It doesn’t help that our time clocks are way out of sync. We are getting to bed as it gets light whilst he drops off to sleep on the chair after dinner. I have trouble waking him up to get him to bed and by the time we get there we are hearing the dawn chorus. So half the day is gone by the time I rise. He leaves me to sleep and then resents the time it takes for me to get off the ground.

We are trying to raise funds here by selling off some of our excess items but there are not that many up here since the break in and the hardships that followed. We will do the best that we can in order to stay here as long as possible. We do not wish to return to our lives down South at the moment, they have caused so much misery and heartache in the past 12 months that I would rather have hunger and a very basic life here feeling safe and healthier than I have been in months.

I was walking the dog at 3am this morning. It was a beautiful full moon last night and the Farm track was lit up, bathed in its light with twinkling lights along the coast. It was almost silent, but for the small animals in the hedgerows.  During that short walk, everything seemed totally right with the world. I felt true happiness in an instant. I could have happily walked across the hills for miles. No one around, alone with the dog and my thoughts. Silent from argument and cross words caused by pain and stress, the worries washed away in the moonlight. I loved the outlines of the tress around in the woods that surround us here. The bull in the field that we visit every day, slightly surprised to see us and snoring gently by his barn.

We were totally at peace there in the moment. Whilst I walked along hoping and praying for a small miracle to enable us to stay here and calm our souls some more. It struck me that here in the darkness, I felt totally safe as though it was the most normal thing in the world to wander the hills in the dark at that hour. It was truly invigorating. I noticed that for the first time in months, I do not feel depressed. For someone who has battled with this depression for a few years now, it seems as though being up here has lifted a huge weight from my mind for as long as I am here.  It makes me wonder if a more permanent move would be better for us all instead of the back and forth.

When the weather is warm and we have just enough to get by, then we are extremely happy up here. A little left over would be a godsend. I worry about lack of contingency funds. Since the truck has played both of us up in the past week and we are several miles from shops for supplies.

As he heads off out today, the truck has struggled again to start. There is muck in the fuel lines we think from when it ran out of fuel and it is causing us real problems. The tank is full and there is fuel cleaner in there but it is still threatening to conk out at any moment which is an extra concern we really don’t need. A return from the mechanic and it seems that it might be something more an auto electrical problem, here’s hoping they can get it fixed.

Wishes

Wishes carried on the air,

Make me strong and make them fair.

Give me courage, my strength prevail.

I am not weak I will not fail.

Take this fire and send it out.

Make my words become a shout.

So I can end all this mess,

Return again our happiness.

Build this wish by power of three,

This is my will, so shall it be!

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. 

The Process of Therapy


So as I continue with the next session of therapy for this round of counselling. I thought I would share some more of my thoughts on the process.

28/2/17 Today’s Therapy Journey.

Today I spoke about what had been happening to me over the past 12 months since my last therapy sessions ended. I had thought that I was doing really well throughout the year and felt that I had made a good recovery and progressed. There was the fact that I followed this therapists advice when she told me to get creative again and it took me to places I did not expect. For which I am very grateful. I told her about this blog and how it has helped me in so many ways over the past year. Yes it’s actually been a year to the day since I started my blog and wrote my first post for India Blue. So much has happened. It began as part of my therapy and has grown into something so much bigger and better than I imagined back then.

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WordPress Happy Anniversary 1 Year!

We also spoke about how I could change what I need to and what my hopes are going forward. What do I want to do? I still don’t know exactly but I hope that I will know it when I find it.

I am happy writing, as little or as much as I do, it doesn’t have to be continuous but it does have to be regularly.

This week I have homework!

She wants me to write, specifically what I would like to achieve from these sessions. How I would like them to help me. My instinctive answer was “to get my head right” it was a bit blasé of me, a throwaway statement but right now it’s not one I have a definitive answer to.

Thinking for more than just a moment.  From this bout of therapy I would like to discover if after I have gone through it, I can find what I believe is out there for me to do and be able to do actually do it. I am guessing that I am going to need help with doing that, but don’t know to what extent yet.  I still don’t know what my future holds or even where to start, sure I have hopes and dreams I just don’t know how to get there, lacking in the confidence which allows me to take the leap that I may need to. I admit it, to a degree I am scared.

I would love to know how to quicken the healing process. I would like to know if the thoughts and emotions that I feel are linked to the PTSD I was sent here with in the first place almost two years ago. Or does it just stop and go away? Can it grow worse when faced with new trauma or mutate into a different thing? I still feel an emotional mess rather a lot of the time, ill equipped to cope and I would love to know how people who feel this way do. I know that life goes on. It’s happening all around me, but I feel somehow detached from it an other worldliness surrounds it. If I could regain that control over my life and my destiny then I think that it would help. But I question whether we ever get to do that, have any control over destiny, or do we just have to simply accept it? There again it is in my nature to question everything and perhaps too much. There are times when I am confident, my brave face goes on and for a short time I can face the world and take everything in my stride, but it is not natural to me at the moment and underneath I often feel I am crumbling. I go home and once again feel exhausted, my mind and body aching, totally fatigued. It happens after each therapy session and often after I go out, just to do the shopping.

But buoyed by talking about something that made me happy, (my blog) today I came home and was met by an email confirming one of my fears. I am sad. The CPS are not taking the case against my neighbour who attempted to knife both my partner and I last year any further. So it seems as though he has got away scot free with it. Which doesn’t thrill me at all and renders me fearful of what may come my way. I now want to be staying here even less than before and want to change things for the better.

via Daily Prompt: Quicken

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

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.