Flux to Fluck?

I am in a flux today.

I am experiencing deep depression and high motivation and there is no real in-between.

On one hand I feel extremely down and tearful and struggling to even think that I’d get to April and on the other I feel pumped to exercise and morph my body over a time into how I really want it to be.

I’ve been staring in a mirror for months trying to see myself through other people’s eyes and occasionally I see something, but then I move my head a certain way and the ugly comes back to haunt me.

So, exercise raises endorphin levels when you do it after a time, but it’s getting the will to get up and just move today that’s eating at me.  Because I just want to hide under my fleece blanket and cry about things, cry deeply – I’m wearing hoodies a lot lately to hide the fact I’m crying so much to other members of the household.

They really haven’t noticed, perhaps my friend is right – I’d be a good actress?  Who knows!

When I have got used to never dreaming because things never happen for me, someone comes along and tells me that life is soon to be great and it’s like another tease.  More disappointment for the future and more broken dreams and an even more shattered heart – that’s the forecast for me I think.

I used to be a positive person, a Pollyanna and I used to tick people off with my ray of sunshine and words of encouragement – it’s like someone was bothered by it so much they’ve cursed me!

I’m told regularly, I will have great things because I have a great talent and this person and that person likes you – it’s all bullshit really, because I haven’t seen these people tell me things.

There are lots of talented people in the world who don’t have those great things – I’m not the only one and it’s not things that I want.  It’s love.

A few rich men haven’t got that into their thick heads yet – they think they can seduce me with things, but they can’t.

Why are the simplest things in life so hard to obtain?  A persons time, snuggles; words of love, support and encouragement, a good time and a laugh without judgement?

A tactile relationship that feels real and not based on lies and broken promises, a relationship where we encourage each other, instead of one of us being a sponge and draining the life out of the other in order to make the other one feel better?

I know I have had a life of abuse, but it sounds strange to roll this off the tongue, but I was always a happy kind of person, known for being bubbly and friendly and since I’ve moved here slowly and steadily I am being drained of life.

I remember before I moved here that I could never imagine the day I’d die, I was scared of death and wanted to be immortal – but now I crave death.  It’s so contrast!

My willpower for survival is weakening.

Paul told me the other day that when a problem used to occur when I first moved in and I wasn’t moved by it and stayed relaxed and the same, that it bothered him, frustrated him even.  Now, whenever there is a problem I am at the complete opposite end of the spectrum, where a problem can become a huge drama quite quickly and it’s a big contrast and he thought that I’d be more supportive and take it more seriously, but instead it’s made me fall apart.

I know why.

When I lived with my parents, emotions were not tolerated if it made a person loud or unmanageable and unproductive. 

When I came here, it’s ok to be loud, shouting, ranting and raving at the slightest problem and to not let go.

I’m a huge empathic sponge, I soak up the energies of people around me and become like them – I’m a spiritual chameleon of sorts.  This is why it’s essential I remove myself from this environment somehow, but it’s difficult when the energies around me are apathetic, depressed, defensive and aggressive.

On the rare occasion a visitor comes who is of lighter energy, it rubs off me quickly and I feel like the old me again – their energy can boost me for a couple of days in fact, but it never lasts.

I remember having such high energy when I first moved in that I drained Paul instead.  Paul looked awful and exhausted all the time.  Because I was always on my feet, being bubbly, finding joy in the smallest thing like a child in a candy store, no matter what happened in life – everything was like a novelty to me and it was.

Because I rarely got to choose anything and go out when I lived with my parents.

I had comments from Paul that I looked at the world in childlike wonder and innocence and that I was so excitable, he kept telling me to slow down, calm down, sit down, lie down, everything had to come down.

Till I emotionally fell down and can barely get up with the weight of it all.

Words can’t describe how I truly feel – all of this feels like intense whining of a bitter heart who hates the world for the joy it has because she hasn’t got it.  Jealous slurs, that’s probably what you’re thinking about this post right now.

If you aren’t thinking that, then I apologise.

Art would show the world more of what I feel inside, but then again I can’t use my art table right now can I?

I really miss doing art.

I think the reason why I look younger than forty is because as tragic as it sounds I cry so much my tears sometimes dry on my face and make it feel taut after a while.  Like now, my face feels tight because the tears have dried.

I try to keep my sense of humour and find something to laugh about, which is part of the manic depression I have.  One minute extremely low and playing with sharp objects near my wrists and then the next moment cracking jokes about my darkness.

I might be depressed but with the tear treatment at least it keeps me young.  It’s a little light, but still gloomy and incredibly pitiful.

But that’s where I am today.

No in between – motivated to exercise and cry my heart out at the same time whilst being at my most deeply creative. 

Lack of sleep, slept four and a half hours again last night, my average for the past few weeks actually.

Motivated to exercise because I saw a glimmer of hope in the mirror the other day that I could look exactly like Diana Dors (Diana Mary Fluck) my main idol after all!  Just dye the hair, tone up and lose around forty pound and yes, I can see its possible I could be like her…

Maybe someday I will get myself out of this dump and sell my work and get myself a red dress covered in rubies and diamonds and wear a pretty wine coloured faux fur shrug with a silk ribbon?  Maybe someday I can walk in high heels without looking like a rookie tranny and actually be elegant and swan like?

Or maybe someday I will be found in a pile of my own poems covered in blood and white as snow, cold and still like ice and maybe my finders will publish my work for me and I will become posthumously famous?

Sods law that.

Thanks for reading…

Femininity in the family

My feminine influences growing up!

I was raised by an unglamorous tom boy, who was never without her pair of jeans, white t-shirts or turtle necks under thick jumpers or oversized blouses, she preferred sandals to heels or trainers and she never wore make up and her hair was always cropped short and her nails were always bitten back and sore looking.

That thankfully, was not my only feminine reference growing up and I yearned for my mother to be more like her sisters or cousins, because the majority of my family oozed femininity – even my mum would say she was the black sheep of her family and to see her amongst her sisters and cousins in photo shoots you’d believe it!

I spent a lot of my childhood being shunted around – again, thankfully!  Because I grew to be influenced by other people about what it means to be a woman rather than taking guidance from my mother, which was practically non-existent!

What did my mother teach me about being a woman?  That women are always burdened upon and are doomed of having a life of sexual harassment and fighting for their rights on a constant basis.  That when you get married you have to train your husband  and she was being serious too!  She really believed these things!

She never wanted me to grow up and have a relationship or have children, but she did tell me if I were inclined to do so that I’d need to get a professional man who doesn’t want children and who is smaller than me and submissive!

Not on your Nellie, that’s not my type at all mum, sorry!

My influences were from women who insisted that just because you are married to a man it doesn’t mean you let yourself go, you know?  You have to keep a certain standard, you have to make an effort or then whose fault is it if they strayed?

Don’t bite your nails dear, put nice things in your hair and if you are not going to bother wearing make up at least make an effort to pinch your cheeks and wear lip gloss instead!

You want a nice man who will look after you, protect you and make you feel loved and safe and you want to be able to support him as much as you can and treat him like a king!

Hearing this being spouted to me at a young age, my mother’s reactions was often covering my ears up and giving short nasty criticisms to whoever was poisoning her daughter to become a man’s slave!

Shame on you!  Shame on the lot of you and to think where women have come from, only for stupid women like you to talk the next generation back a hundred years! 

Don’t you listen to them my girl, they are wrong; you don’t need that, you are better off far away from all of THAT!

That was my influence growing up and I still stick to my aunts and cousins concepts and steer well clear of my mother’s!

On my dad’s side of the family, up until the 90s it was quite common for the older generation to help you look for your husband if they knew you were leaning towards wanting a family at a young age.  My mother hated that about them – my grandmother knew when I was fifteen that I only wanted a career because my mother and big brother expected me to have one of their choosing, not my own.  But ultimately I wanted a large family and work from home either as a writer, designer or childminder. 

When I was seventeen my grandmother had found some nice young gentlemen to set me up with, but my mum got furious about it and it is one of the many reasons why mum decided never to speak to my dad’s mum again.

I had to listen to my mum, though I liked what gran was doing, because it’s been a thing I’ve wanted my whole life – a large traditional family.  Had I of started young, it would have been fun to see how many children I would have had by now!  I know a second cousin who is the baby of 17 and she too had 17 children of her own so large families are not uncommon in my family!

But I am forty now and only with one child and it really has never been my intention to have such a small family, fate was taken out of my hands.

It has left a deep hollow in me; it is something I have never accepted looking back in my life.  I am hugely envious of women who are running alive with kids!

I think I would have been healthier for it too, if I had got my way.  I don’t live for myself, I live for other people and when you have just one child and his father completely takes over and pushes your nose out of the way all the time, it makes you feel unwanted and useless – I think that’s why I got sick.

On my dad’s side of the family, they are feminine too, but they are a different kind of feminine than my mother’s side of the family.

My mother’s side of the family are very glamorous and are often mistaken for rich women.  The kind of women who feel naked without make up, stink of expensive perfume, wearing heels and have three inch long decorated nails with diamante on them.  One or two are unethical fur enthusiasts and all of them spend an hour on their hair a day!

Their focus is mostly to please their man, care for their looks, socialise with friends and then the children come somewhere after all that! 

My dad’s side of the family are the old fashioned but very maternal types.  To the women in that side of the family, it is you feed the man and take care of him when he is sick and support him in most of his endeavours if he is sensible, but outside of this you don’t dare come between a woman and her children!

The children come before everything after the basic care of the husband, the house cleaning is next, self-maintenance and then friends if you have the time – but as long as self-maintenance and friends doesn’t interfere with you becoming a good citizen, volunteering at charities and attending church or entertaining the elderly in nursing homes.

These women dress in simple country clothing, floral dresses with lace and mid shin and tend to wear pearls.

They also have the same ration ratio per family, the man gets the biggest portion, then the kids and the women tend to go hungry if they are poor or have meagre rations in comparison.

This is why almost all the women in that side of the family are gardeners, they grow most of their own food and have a “be prepared” attitude to life, as most of them were girl guides in their past!

They are the women who will eat left over from the day before or make soup from them, unlike my mother’s side of the family who seem to have a phobia of all food once it’s been opened or cooked!

As I was growing up, my mother’s family regarded me as an anomaly, because there I was a mere slip of a girl telling them what they can do to budget their food and how to save money.   Because I had learned it all by staying with my paternal relatives!

My dad’s family also taught things like sewing by hand, basketry and all sorts of things. 

Whereas my mother’s family knit only when they are past 50yrs of age and before then have no idea about darning socks and whatnot.

My family to onlookers would appear to be like Last of the summer wine ladies at tea Vs the Kardashians.  Or putting them as individuals my dad’s family as a whole woman would be Emma Thompson’s Karen from Love Actually vs Elizabeth Taylor.   Whereas my mum is more like Ellen Degeneres!

I like to consider this has made me more like Dolly Parton, well eventually lol!  She is like a good healthy mix of the two!

Anyway, those are my feminine influences according to how I was raised by my family and I have a lot of sprucing up to do, because being sick for so long has made me lazy.  I am looking forward to transitioning back to the old vain me again! 

Thank you for reading!

A silly dream

One thing I didn’t realise or remember about having an Alexa Echo Dot thingy, is that I can get to hear my kindle books on it, spoken aloud by Alexa herself!  I am excited about that because my Kindle stopped working around two years ago I had loads of books on it, downloaded a load of free classic literature.

Today I sat through and heard the first three chapters of The Castle of Otranto by Horace Walpole, for the first time – it’s quite a good read actually.  I have wanted to read that story for years!

I can totally understand why so many classic horror novelists have owed their inspiration to it!

Because of the book and because of the music, I have found myself daydreaming about my vampires again – yes I know there are no vampires in the story, but still, the thought is there.

The music I have been listening today have been my vampire playlist, but I have started to create a new vampire playlist now, one that concentrates mostly on classical music because of the time period I am thinking about.

My music tastes are more than just a little bit eclectic; I do in fact listen to classical music about half the time actually and my paternal family has always been into classical music and that side of the family has always been musical and involved with entertainment in some manner of speaking.

I for example, was classically trained in opera as a young child, until my mum got fed up forking out the money for something she didn’t find productive, my dad and his family were very distressed at her stopping this.

I love a lot of different types of musical interests, Jazz, soul, rock and alternative with classical or classical fusion and world music.  I have never been to a music concert before, unless you include local classical orchestra that is and nobody really wants to hear that I have gone to those, because they expect you to say some cooler like a rock band or something.

But I have always been a huge fan of Vivaldi, George Gershwin, Beethoven, Vaughn Williams and Tchaikovsky to name but a few.  I even like modern classical from John Williams, Alan Silvestre and Brad Fiedel which are movie composers.

I am one of these strange people that when she watches a movie, she lets the whole thing consume her – the visuals, the acting, the audio – background music, it is all taken in by me.  I am not happy to just watch a movie and enjoy it; I like to know where that music came from in scene whatever and well that’s just me, I am a geek, what can I say?

Since I was very small I had loads of dreams about being some kind of composer myself, lyricist, but also a director or something along those lines.  But the thing is I could never narrow down what I wanted to focus on, because I like the whole caboodle. 

I want to be an artist, I want to do the music, I want to design the costumes, I want to help the props, I want to write songs, I want to write the stories and for a good few years as a child I used to roleplay being a radio DJ too!

But because I can’t focus which one, I never threw myself into it, because I would literally run around trying to do the whole thing!

I have so many interests and I let a project consume me, I remember when I was in college I was part of an amateur dramatics group and I couldn’t choose my focus and my friends loved me, but found my lack of focus on one or two aspects very frustrating and distracting!

They loved my dedication but would often cry into their hands about “Tina, please just focus”!

Most of them pushed me into the acting, writing or prop making as they felt those things were my best strengths.  But I wasn’t keen on the acting, though they kept trying to steer me into it as they believed I was amazing.  But I didn’t want that, I knew that, I knew that I didn’t want that part of it, but I wanted everything else, lol.

In the last few weeks of being in that group, I was primarily writer and they enjoyed it – but then they started to try and shift my genre focus.   “You do better horror and psychological thrillers than anything else” they said.

By that time I knew my time was up, because my mum didn’t like me doing this in my spare time after college, she wanted me home in the evenings and didn’t like how many friends I was making and didn’t like me leaving the college to go into London with my friends to do things like street miming.

I love mime artists.

Recently I have new desires and I am not taking myself seriously over it, because I am starting way too late.

This new desire is one of the reasons why I am losing weight and trying to get good fitness levels back.  I want to join an adult beginner’s gymnastics class, as silly as that sounds.

Because my whole life I have wanted to do something and I had never confessed it to anyone because of how stupid it is!

I am one of these people who want to run away with the circus, kind of – but not quite!

Since I was a child I would often find myself listening to classical music and imagining myself as a circus acrobat, primarily trapeze, trampolines or tight rope walking.  I often saw myself in the circus glamour and doing my stuff – but more recently, as silly as it sounds, I have thought of myself doing this in a comedy sketch form.  A clown in fact, but I am not interested in any circus.  I am inspired by the Cirque Du Soleil.

I know it will take me around fifteen years to get to the standard they would hire, so this is why I am not taking myself seriously.

It’s just a stupid big dream of mine.

I have even thought about the clown design I would have for myself.

I don’t want it as a long term career, I just want to do my show on tour for a year and then give up, because it is something I would have worked hard to do and ticked off my bucket list – one of the BIG dream tick offs!

But as I said, I don’t think it will ever happen and it is just a silly dream after all, I can barely walk two miles without coming to my knees right now – still recovering from eight years of bedbound sickness, this is why I am not taking it seriously.

But I am totally in love with The Cirque Du Soleil.

I sent an email to a local disabled adult beginners gymnastics tutor today, she said twenty hours a week for ten to fifteen years and I could do my dream and no, forty years old is not too old to be accomplished in that!

There are many silly dreams I don’t share.

Thanks for reading!

Naturally Glamorous

My weird contrasts are even astounding to me.

On the one hand, I am a hippy nature’s child running bare foot in the garden catching frogs, collecting snail shells and taking home pretty pebbles and rocks from the woodlands on my walks and making leaf nests and mud pies with children; then on the other hand I am spellbound by shinies, fluffies, heady scents and glamour!

Since I was very small I have struggled with who I want to be – which one do I want to be…  sugar and spice and all things nice Elizabeth Taylor… or up to my knees in mud with autumn leaves in my hair in dungarees Elle Mae Clampett?

All my life I have had people say to me unless I can make that decision, people will always think I have a split personality and mental problems and nobody is going to take me seriously either way!  I have to make a decision… I never could.

As I am getting older I am trying to define myself and narrow myself down, but these two basic personalities in me just can’t be cut away…

They are both too prominent, but I have to say Sugar and Spice is more neglected than the Natures child in me, because I never had anyone teach me how to wear makeup and style the hair appropriately.  I know how to spruce myself up nice when I need to, but I tend not to wear makeup unless I get offered one of those free make overs at a cosmetics store, which I used to go to often when I was on the dating scene.

So there are a few people in the world who doesn’t know that side of me.

I have to admit, that side of me is filled with guilt and shame, because nobody likes a vain person – nobody likes a show off!  Well not in the circles I’ve ran in.

I used to tell people, I don’t do it to show off, I do it to feel nice and happy in myself – but the kind of people I knew didn’t think I was telling the truth, they thought that I thought I was better than them!  I never did and never do – because quite personally, I think I am hideous!

The only thing that is ever going to change my mind about how pretty I am or not, is being on the front page of a big fashion magazine without any criticism headlined and that’s probably never going to happen!

Out of all the major Hollywood stars I saw on TV and in magazines growing up, the one that impressed me the most with her regality and beauty was Elizabeth Taylor and every Christmas on my present wish list is always at least one perfume from her brand, which I tend to get!

I look at stars today on TV and I wonder what has happened?  What has happened to the traditional glamourous woman?  There are less than ten major celebrity women that impress me these days and the one that impresses me the most is Lady Gaga, as she knows what real traditional glamour is!

Paul used to say I scare him, because when I become an author he is sure I’d be a best-seller and he is sure I am going to need to be like Roseanne Barr, where I have to buy a house just to store my clothes!

Does he actually know how little authors get?

I don’t think I will be that excessive, but I can see myself having good quality evening wear where they may need to be stored in a preserving way, like museum pieces.

But despite how much I love glitz and glamour, I find it morally difficult to justify the expense and this is where I have a lot of inner conflict!

I have a tremendous guilt conscience about money and being thought of as better than someone else – because it’s not me… I am nice, I don’t brag, I hate hurting people’s feelings, I genuinely care for people who I think are less fortunate and it hurts me to think that they often think so little of me in return. 

Because I have never always been this poor, I have said it in the past and it is true!

My grandmother comes from traditional aristocratic stock, she never liked how much I love costume jewellery, because to her, it is cheap tack – but to me, I liked how they shine and look – to me it’s not the cost it’s the look!

She never under understood that for me it is aesthetic not saleability when family falls on hard times!

She always said when you get the money, buy lots of high value gold and keep it in store as you never know when you will need it for a hard time! 

I collected a lot of junk in her opinion over the years and many of which I gave away to charity about four or five years ago as I felt I will never be well enough to ever spruce myself up again.  In fact, up until late last year, I really thought I’d be dead by 45 as I was getting sicker.

But I am getting a little better, though I am going through a health blip right now with a chest infection – it’s not as bad as it used to be!

I started talking about this subject because I found something I thought I had thrown away a long time ago, it was hiding in the back of a rarely opened drawer – a massive fake diamond ring, made of plastic but it’s on a cheap silver base and I mean it is massive!  It’s larger than a postage stamp. 

I wore it today and I felt very nostalgic and kind of sad.

I looked in the mirror whilst wearing it and that was a big mistake… instant fallen from grace feeling – I don’t often eat my feelings unless I am angry, as I am an angry eater… but today I ate my feelings of sadness with a mince pie and felt instant regret and shame.

Tried to cheer myself up with “Well it is Christmas”!

Didn’t work, sat my buns down on the bed, typing this up and hoping this time next year, I’d had reached my weight goal and I had reached my self-employment goal and I would feel a little like the old me again!

But who knows, maybe I’d have pulled my finger out and got a best-seller and got this weird 100k deal Paul imagines I’ll get!

Lol, yeah right…

So why do I hate talking about this sort of thing?  Because I have lived a very good life in the past and when people know you have money, the vultures come out or the people who hate you and guilt trip you into their sad stories or force you to believe that it is your duty as a wealthy person to donate 75% of your money! 

Not a lot of people will actually listen to well off people, about discrimination – because they sarcastically say “aw yeah, poor little rich girl”, so I have been made to feel ashamed of having better and it is hard not to feel guilt when talking about these things!  Especially since a lot of my former social circles have abandoned me and I am quite literally alone in the world, without people who understands me and my side of the coin! 

But in my experience, aristocrats and the wealthy are more discriminated than other types of people, but we can’t voice it, because nobody can believe we have a hard life too and most think, we deserve the shit we get!  But it’s all just spiteful jealousy.

Well I am like you now… good laugh isn’t it, bet you feel great about it, one less rich bitch to worry about?

It’s hard not to be bitter about this sort of thing!

Thanks for reading!

Life of a cold dragon

Today I wished I had the stuff I need to wear cosmetics and dress up real nice – I don’t know why but today I woke up thinking, you know what?  I want to be a glamour queen today!

Instead however, because it’s Sunday and nobody is doing anything, I am just in scruffy lounge wear, wearing baggy pink fluffy cardigans and looking like I have just woke up – cuddling my cardigan to myself and wishing I had a different life!

Eating beef stew and a side of string beans, drinking a chocolate protein shake and wondering if that’s all I am having today?  It seems likely actually – I am not gaining any appetite and it’s been like this for weeks now!

Barely having more than 1200 calories on a good day – not good, not good at all!

However, I am flattening up a lot in the tummy area despite being disappointed by my triceps – I am very self-conscious about those actually… but I am trying my hardest to figure things out!

Still sticking to the two a day green tea with cinnamon and turmeric idea and freezing myself a bit to see if it all works – but it’s tough sitting around in the cold, when I like to be snug and warm and live in the temperature fit for a dragon!

I just need to think in a different dragon kind of way… an ice dragon… lol

I was raised in a household that from November the thermostat is permanently on 30c that’s 86F – since living with Paul our thermostat is set at 21.5c which is 70.7F and to me that’s always made the house too cold for me – but I am getting used to it.  My mum would always have windows opened with the thermostat that high too – totally insane, she was not the worst in the family – my maternal grandma was crazy enough to have the heating on in the height of summer!

So, is there any wonder then that Paul sees me as some kind of pampered fire dragon?

Though to be honest I hate it when it’s hotter than 24c/75f but I definitely hate it when it’s cooler than 21.5c/70.7f too!

All day long I have had this song stuck in my head “catch a falling star” by Perry Como – such a pretty song and I keep getting art ideas for it, but I don’t have supplies to make it and the art table is being used for something else these days which makes just doing art at random a chore, because I need to clear up for twenty minutes before I can do it – that also means move stuff from around the table, just so I can access it!

Going to be quiet from the 30^TH November to potentially the 3^rd December, because I have to be the one to sort the house out so we can have Christmas decorations up – if I don’t do it, it doesn’t get done and there is a chance this house won’t have decorations at Christmas if I don’t!

Every year when I have to do this, I tend to get ill during or after I have finished the decorating because of the amount of dust that gets into the air with the old decorations and moving furniture around – because nobody helps me keep on top of things here!  I have a severe dust allergy and often get chest infections around this time! 

To boot, I have a bruised ankle and it hurts when I walk on it.

Paul puts the decorations away every year, but I have to put them up – this means that no decorations are cleaned before putting away, like they would have been if I had put them away – but sometimes the chest infection is so bad I am off my feet until late January!

Thanks for reading!

Sleek and grey

Today is a semi-masculine day for me, I feel like having a pixie cut or spiky hair and wearing a grey pinstripe suit, odd for me as I usually hate the colour grey, but I want a really nice sexy silky white top on that’s not a button up shirt, no, instead it has a slit down to the navel showing off cheeky cleavage.

I may feel masculine but I still want to feel sexy.

Though I feel masculine I still want to be glamorous and so I would probably have been wearing lots of make up today if I could have had it, particularly a dark red lipstick with a darker lip liner and Cleopatra eye make-up.

Shame I don’t have either the body, make up, the clothes or the style of hair to be like that today!

May have topped it off with a fedora too!

Happy reading!

Beauty, dance, and gratefulness

A handful of friends have sent me DMs recently about my deadline.  I have to agree to take their advice and not push for it, because in the past two weeks in particular life here has been hard on me and I have found it difficult to focus on reading anything, let alone writing anything.

Henry is has recently had an emergency assessment to test for autism because his behaviour is worsening at school, at the moment they decline to say much about their findings because they feel they need to do another one or two assessments on him before they are sure.

Along with this, as you all are probably aware of, Paul and I are separating; which is a surprise really, because around 2015 we more or less decided to stick with each other, despite our relationship only meaning to be temporary.

We don’t know when we will decide to live apart as I have discussed recently, but it is on the cards.

Along with this I am trying my hardest to get into shape and lose weight, so I have more confidence in myself when I start a new relationship.

I really wanted to debut a book by summer, which is why I wanted to approach an agent on the 21^st October, however, I have too much going on right now to do it and along with it all, the idea of YouTube may also be a failing start for January too; because my future is very uncertain right now.

I am also very confused by people behaviours online recently.  Since alerting my readers of my separation with Paul, I have been getting a lot of attention in DMs.  I suppose it’s not so confusing as I have more or less announced my availability, but what is confusing is the dominance some people are portraying in their emails to me from the off-set.  Like whom do they think they are?

It started with the email from a well-known author to Paul, I won’t mention names, but he is pretty big as far as authors go.  According to Paul this author had asked him outright whether or not we genuinely are in an open relationship and if it is OK for him to approach me for a relationship someday?  Paul said of course.

Though this author has not approached me in any other way other than being a sort of friendly online acquaintance, I felt it was cheeky to do that and especially behind my back!

He has a blue tick on twitter, so it’s the genuine article, but he is not the only person who has approached this recently with me. 

Unfortunately I feel some pressure by this person to finish my AD project in particular as they believe they’ve cottoned on to my plot with my hints and has got inspired to make something very similar if I am not quick enough; unfortunately, they’ve kind of guessed correctly what my story might be. or so, Paul has told me someone who is associated with this author has told him.

I don’t know whether or not Paul is just rocking the boat telling me these things, because he was initially afraid of losing me, but more recently he has found a new lady himself and doesn’t seem to think that what he told me in the past is anything to worry about, now.

I really don’t like cloak and daggers and underhanded stuff and I am getting rather uncomfortable with it all.

But if what Paul has said is true, then this author will be starting the idea around March apparently, which is why I feel the pressure to write this quickly, because its a series.

For now, all I want to do is focus on is my fitness, trimming down and getting my head together, whilst still trying to write a tiny bit per day towards any current project.  Maybe read a book once a fortnight, the reading has slowed down immensely.

But I am trying to find my true self. 

My true self, since a very young child – kindergarten almost, has always had a massive love for fashion and glamour.  For short bursts throughout my life, I have tried to get into it all big time – but there was always someone getting in my way and stopping me, usually my mother.

My mother is out of my life right now, so I feel free to be as vain and beautiful as I want, in the manner I want.

I loved the book “Matilda” by Roald Dahl as a child and in there is a quote where they say that there are two types of women in the world those that choose looks and those that chose books. 

Most of my life I chose books, purely as a means of escapism.  Had I have had a more stable life I would be more focused on looks and entertainment of other kinds, such as singing or acting.

All I know is that I am a huge daydreamer. 

I can’t help but think of great stories all of the time, often at the drop of a hat – but I have little interest in making them books, I want them to be on the screen somehow.  It has always been my primary goal.

My idea of the best kind of entertainment is visual and audio.  I read a lot, yes, but mostly to learn, I don’t really read for the amusement of it – I am just knowledge hungry, that’s all.

I really don’t think I’d be as much of a gaming or science geek as I am today, had I have been raised primarily by say – my honorary auntie Sheila or my grandmother for example.

I know had I of been raised by my paternal grandmother she’d have made me go into the equestrian gymkhana groups and gymnastics and all sorts of things like that.  She’d have fully supported my sports goals in swimming and judo and would have pushed me into other things to socialise a lot with the better classes as she’d put it; Potentially making me become a singer or an actress along with it, because she often tried to encourage me to go with my aunts to their amateur theatres to be a part of their little comedies, but at the time I was bullied out of it by being fat shamed by my mum.

I really wanted more of the life my grandmother wanted for me, as it reflected what my dad wanted for me too, but mum never supported any of it.

All my life I have envied women in gymnastics in particular.

As an adult my grandmother learned I had a passion for watching dance shows and that I really wanted to learn to dance and she arranged for me to go to Ealing to become taught by a famous dancer called Anton Du Beke.  When my mum found out I was going to go to it, she gave me a nasty ultimatum, go to this school for dance or lose the internet.  At the time I had an Ebay business and I had a lot of online friends, so losing the internet was not an option for me, so she had got her way.

I have always wanted to learn to tango, especially with a life partner, because I have a lot of passion in me and I really would love a relationship like Morticia and Gomez Addams. 

It’s a goal I have still, once fit enough I will go to find a school for the tango.  Or if I become a published author and famous enough I’d practically beg “strictly come dancing” to let me be a celebrity contestant!

But ultimately, my stories should be on the screen and should also be merchandise as a lot of my ideas are not only horror, but mostly for the family entertainment industry.  Horror is lessening these days as I am thinking of more light-hearted fantasy stories.  Sure, project AD is a dystopian, but it has anthropomorphic characters, children and comedy in it, which lightens the mood immensely.

Even if I am only writing a paragraph per day at least it’s getting done.  But for now, I can’t do much more than that because there are a lot of explosive arguments going on about me, mostly between Henry and Paul but lately, Paul is starting to drain me with his noticeable irritations, because he feels as trapped as I do.

I am just in the way.  That is not something I want to feel when I am still quite emotionally vulnerable and could at any moment decide to seek out the medicine box.  I mean, other than Henry and a rabbit, what I have I got to live for?

Paul and Henry have already decided between themselves that Henry will stay with Paul not me, so I won’t even have Henry as an excuse to stay alive soon; Just the rabbit, and he is 5yrs old on his next birthday.  He is also the last birthday present I’ve ever received since we fell into poverty, that’s if I am not including the regular chocolate bars I’ve got between then and now.

Still, shouldn’t be ungrateful.

Happy reading!

Existentially challenged

For a woman I am strange, I think anybody who knows me in real life will validate that.

But what exactly do I mean by strange?

Perhaps I mean dorky, weird, and eccentric but also some people have labelled me as confused or having a split personality.

I might do, though I prefer the stance that I am existentially challenged.

I am a female, that occasionally wakes up and wishes for just that particular day to be a man, but it’s only occasional.  On another day I will wake up and want to be kawaii or gothic, or a child or an adult, or anything as the feeling grabs me and it is often a part of my depression when I can’t morph my body into how I feel for the day.

Mostly though, I want to be tall and strong athletic looking woman and have perfect long straight brunette hair in a long plait, wearing a tight white camisole and black jeans and heeled boots and don’t have the need to wear spectacles.

But alas, I am fat and hideous, my hair is the colour of straw with flecks of white and I indeed need spectacles.

Image aside, this isn’t what I meant when I first started the post.

What I wanted to say is that, I am strange because I am like an old fashioned man, or rather an old man.  I say this, because some people online believe I am not a woman at all, but I am.  I am just a weird one that’s all.

I was a weird little girl too. 

I was a bug catching little girl, who had pet snails that escaped in the night in my bedroom sliming the walls in the morning, creeping my OCD clean freak mother out with the things she’d find hiding in my room every morning.  One day she found a squirrel I had tamed, sitting on the desk looking like it owned the place and it screamed at her when she screamed at it.

I was a frog catching little girl too and I’d scrump my neighbour’s apples, well, I used to pick my neighbours apples from their tree that was above my swing, which she allowed – to be a true scrumper meant I stole without permission, but that wasn’t the case.

As a child my biggest emotional and creative influence was my dad and two male cousins.  As a child I had more male friends than female and as a child I loved things that most little girls shy away from.

I was the little girl who asked for matchbox cars at Christmas, Gremlin and monster toys, scalextrics, books, art supplies, dinosaurs, trump cards and anything to do with wrestling.

I was the kind of little girl who scoffed at soap operas and sat down with her father and grandmother on a Sunday afternoon watching horse racing and Laurel Hardy movies and other oldies.

I’d learn all the words from those old movies, so that when mum worked the night shift at the retirement home she worked in, me and dad would re-enact them together fully, like we were putting on a spectacular theatre production. 

Sometimes we did for my aunts when visiting grandma on Sunday afternoons if they were visiting gran too.

I was the kind of little girl who made solar system models and studied encyclopaedias like a bible, because my access to education was sparse.

My dad was mostly into science, war and film history and gardening and he was the most active in educating me those things.  I got heavily into understanding the history of automobiles and aviation and some of it still sticks to this day!

I was like a son to him, I am sure.

My mum I think was jealous and that is why she treated me badly, I didn’t grow how she wanted me to.  She wanted me to be image obsessed, watch all the soap operas with her, devour all the romance books she bought and gossip about people behind their backs viciously, like some plastic girl from the movie Means Girls.

Which was odd really, because she as a tom boy too! She never taught me make up etc, it was like she had hoped that me being a girl I would teach her those things – but its a mothers job to teach the girl!

But I wasn’t like that, so she made my life hell.  Really, it was like living with a school bully with no escape, she only backed off me when I caved in and pretended to be the Barbie she wanted me to be, which was difficult as I was a fat child who was a bit of a jock.  Yes, you do get fat jocks!

But I’d rather go to a local park with my dad in the evenings and play on their big adventure playground pirate ship and re-enact scenes from The Voyage of Sinbad or Blackbeard the pirate, with my dad and if I am lucky, my cousins.

I am still very masculine to this day in my ideas, hobbies, likes and dislikes.  I even took a psychological test once to find out what I am and found out my brain is a lot more masculine than an average woman, in fact, significantly so.

I am bisexual, I do like to cross-dress and be masculine from time to time and I don’t make friends easily with women, unless they are similar to me.  Usually creative, hippy or bohemian, or tom boyish too!

The strange thing about all of this is that I am also glamour puss. Weird contrast I know, but I love dressing up elaborately, like a proper classic Hollywood star, but I can’t be in perfection mode all the time, it would drive me up the wall.  I love maxi dresses and sandals, I like jeans and camisoles, rainbow coloured dungarees and weird shit like that, oh and cosplay. 

I am a chameleon I suppose, yes, I guess that’s the right thing to say about me – I am a chameleon.

You never know what you are going to get day to day and if you are comfortable in rigidity, we can’t get along, because I have to flow with my emotions.  Don’t judge me for changing my style yet again, get used to it, why so stiff and judgemental?  Don’t be stiff… unless of course… I digress! 

It’s the flow again, the water that is me.

I’m like a river, now isn’t that going to be a lovely poem?

I am off to write it now…

Happy reading…