When

When I’m in the danger zone

I want a way out

I want things to be done

I want to be done

I yearn for blackness to overtake me

Because it has nightly raped me

Of all my spirit, heart and soul

Things get darker, it becomes so dull

I can’t keep being blinded by gloom

I sometimes wish that I would die soon

Thoughts & changes

Why have I been so quiet on my blog and in social media for the past few weeks?

The easiest and quickest question to answer of the two is this; I have not been updating my blog regularly, particularly with poetry due to lack of inspiration.

The latter answer is longer;

I have a lot to process in my own mind, I have a lot of habits I need to change and I need to prepare for a major transformation because I am no longer content living the life I have been living for the past thirteen years.

I am trying to heal myself mentally and physically, whilst in the very literal sense fighting against two negative forces in my life tooth and nail daily to maintain any positive outlook whatsoever and I have become exhausted.

I have realised that in recent years I have lost myself and this was a shock and revelation a few months ago, in fact so shocking to me that it practically made my mind numb for a long time whilst I tried to process what the heck happened to me and try to remember how I let it and why?

I realised I was nothing of my former self whatsoever, everything little thing about me had gone and I had been replaced by a sick, bitter, dozy woman who was becoming hateful by the day!

I realised this around a couple of weeks before Easter 2022, but it didn’t really hit me until December 2022.

In December 2022 I realised I had nothing of my former self left in me and no ambition has been realised at all and I needed to work out what happened, when, why, how – I needed to analyse it within an inch of its life.  It’s what I do; I have always been rather over analytical about things and slow to process stuff of scale.

I wanted to start a YouTube channel for March 1^st; this didn’t happen because I had an awful shock.

I recorded my first video and tried to edit it, I had no idea what I was doing and I watched back my video and I realised several things;

The major thing is, I didn’t realise what a mess I look like physically!  My hair, my face, I didn’t even realise until I saw the video I had black puffy circles around my eyes and I looked exhausted and I looked haggard in my opinion.

That bothered me and I thought to myself I need to get a grip on my image pronto.

The other thing that I noticed was, my voice was not my own – my voice had become rather down market for me and I wanted to know – how could I be so lazy in my speech?  It was like I couldn’t be bothered to string a sentence together like how I used to, I also noticed I had this habit that Paul has… I kept throwing my eyes up as though everything irritated me, even though it was a relatively chipper video!

That is a habit I never had before and it shocked me how I appear to be turning into Paul!

I was even pausing in my speech like Paul does; Paul talks like a politician, no, sorry a specific kind of politician – a conservative politician!

When I saw this video, I well and truly wanted to know – what the fuck has happened to me?

I realised another thing.

This house only has two mirrors, one in the bathroom and one in the entry hall and I never look into any of them, because the one in the bathroom is too high for me to see myself properly!

It’s a strange thing upon reflection – why aren’t there more mirrors?

I decided to buy a full length mirror for my bedroom being it is the main place I am in day to day when I am at home.

Paul has not put it up for me and he will not let me use the drill!

But I started to get myself into the habit of looking into the mirror every day and there was slow progress in how I changed for the better!

I was not aware of very many things at all – especially how little I was drinking and maintaining hydration!

I learned I was drinking a quarter glass of water approximately every three hours, which was not good and not getting enough fluids in me day to day.

I also never really thought about how much I was eating, never eating a breakfast and rarely eating a lunch with two to four snack a day and eating half a dinner had become normal to me and that was bad!

I put quite a lot of my energy and health problems down to insomnia and a poor immune system, but it was actually probably more than this.

Every time I got motivation to do something, within minutes I was instantly hit with the notion of “why bother”?  I wanted to know why this became a habit, so I tried to break those habits and keep positive and motivated.

I realised, when I sat back and observed “the why” that the “why bother” idea came about usually after I attempt something, but someone had physically got in my way to prevent it, or had emotionally drained me to the extent I needed to lie down and rest, as they exhausted me.

Between October and December I was quite active on social media and I had several people tell me that they believe Paul sounded toxic – I didn’t trust this observation of theirs, because to me, Paul was the least toxic person I had ever known my whole life and I still stand with that.

But observing things from a neutral stance, I realised that he slowly slipped into becoming a toxic person and it was so slight the changes I didn’t realise it, until it was too late!

I realised why can’t I do such and such around the house?  I am feeling healthier these days, let’s go and do it and see if I have improved my physical fitness after those 5 minute HIITs I’ve been doing since Easter 2022. 

I learned, it had nothing to do with my physical health and everything to do with the fact that Paul would actively prevent me, tell me to sit down, take over what I was doing or would moan so much I got mentally exhausted.

I have tried to discuss things with Paul about giving me more freedom now I am no longer as sick as I used to be and it’s been a battle.

A very real battle!

Along with this, I have been trying to lose weight, buck up my ideas regarding my looks, taking pride in my appearance again (poverty permitting) and acting like I have a life outside these walls, outside of unemployment!

I have no support whatsoever offline from anyone – no cheerleaders, no positive vibes, no nothing, I am completely alone in my transformation and it’s very hard.  Because there is no rest from the negative onslaught I am living with.

I have nobody to talk to about any of this, except for you, reading my blog!

It is amazing to realise that, since I have learned all these things, the suicidal thoughts have alleviated quite a bit.

It’s bought me to a place of action.

I have anxieties which mean I am very co-dependent and I will not go out alone, not because I have social phobia, that’s completely untrue – but because I was trained to feel guilt and shame in having independence as I was growing up and into my late twenties by my mother, who would often become physically violent if I ever left the house without permission, even after the age of eighteen!

Unfortunately some people harness this to their advantage when I live with them.  Paul has never attempted to try and make me independent, not like other exes have.  I truly felt, he left the ball in my court, but I never thought he would allow me to live like this for so long without trying to get me to do things!

In fact the less I do, the happier he appears – he quickly comes under a lot of stress whenever I do anything for myself, even within the house.

None of this was known to me until I went into my deep investigation within myself, about what has happened in my life?

It is taking me a lot to realise that I am going to have to try and somehow retrain my emotional reaction, whenever I try to do something independently like leaving the house to go somewhere alone – so I can remove myself from this negative environment so that I can function and achieve my dreams.

Guilt and shame are hard emotions to control and retrain.

“Shame on you” were regular words out of my mother’s mouth to me, growing up – particularly if I ever did anything independently without permission.

A mother’s job is to nurture, so your child never needs you forever, so that they can grow and they can take care of themselves when you die.  A mother is not meant to hold a child back from their growth, their happiness, and their choices in how to live their life!  That is not the response of a proper mother!

That is the response of someone who is frightened to be alone or disappointed in some way, they are not thinking of their child, they are thinking of themselves or at worst, how best can I make others feel jealous of me, because of my child and how I have moulded them?

Some so-called mothers have no real heart in parenting; some mothers use their children as fashion or status icons.

My mother used me like this once, but then she decided she was too insecure to have me have a life without her, because she was the one who had social phobia and she was the one who was lonely every time I went to school, college or work – so she held me back – because she was lonely.  Because she chose to stay home all day for a few years!

All these things have shown themselves to me over the past few months.

It is these things which have caused me to not concentrate on writing my novels like I want to, or practising my art.

Because I am so focused on healing myself in so many different ways, because I want to live and I want to have a life.

There is so much to think about – then there have been several opportunities that have come my way and I have had to say “no” to some of those opportunities, because I am not ready yet.  Or I believe that those people will not be helpful towards me right now.

I need someone who understands me, connects with me, have been through something similar.  Where they had to change their whole being too, from all the dirt that has been dragged up behind them from childhood!

This person needs me as much as I need them.

Together I am convinced we will transform each other and make each other stronger and happier and we will heal each other and yes, there is someone out there like that for me – because he found me.

In fact, through this very blog.

Right now, we’re both in limbo and we’re not ready to be in each other’s lives as there are things he needs to sort out too, but we both know it won’t be long before we are!

There are certain circumstances that mean we have to wait for each other – but when we’re ready we know things will move quite quickly and I am trying to prepare myself for everything!  Because the change in my life is going to be more than huge!

It’s going to be astronomical and I need to prepare for it on a mental level. 

Emotionally I am raring to go, but mentally I need to adjust and tweak certain things, so I don’t mess up, basically.

I know the guy is reading this, I hope he knows he is the one I am hinting at here and not somebody else.

But there it is.

I’m trying my best to look good, feel good and find my positivity and lightness again, so I don’t ruin our union.

I don’t want to start a new relationship where I am going to be sulky and anxious and feeling fat and frumpy and looking a mess – I want to feel like I deserve it, that I at least made some effort for them.  It’s only right.

Yes, Paul knows about this new guy and he is fully supportive of me leaving him for them, in fact, he hopes that this guy would talk to him about me because he is worried that I may be stepping out of the frying pan and into the fire by leaving him – he needs the reassurance that this person can and will take better care of me than he did. 

They are a top quality guy and I need to try my best to match him, though realistically I can’t with my circumstances, but it doesn’t mean don’t even try, does it?

I have got to look like I have at least made some effort!

When I am in his life I am unsure about the future of this blog, I will admit that.

I am not sure what will happen with it.

Will I be too busy to post daily?

Will I still be able to write for the blog?

I don’t know!

I may need to make it completely professional and delete the unprofessional stuff… I haven’t a clue.

Time will tell.

But I do know on thing, those novels must be written, he is counting on them!

For now, I am still trying to get my shit together!

Thank you for reading!

Have I lost mine?

When fate tries to protect you

Rat poison goes missing

When the universe tries to buck you up

The glass you dropped doesn’t break and give you razors

When people see you are down

They give you false promises just to cheer you up for the moment

When the sky is cloudy

There is the tease of the sun in a small hole in the sky

When you try to be alone to cry

Someone finds you and needs a hug

When you smell a rat

There is a slight smell of candied apples behind it

Can you trust your senses at all?

Have I lost mine?

Written 8:57pm 28th February 2023

Feelings, faith and visions

Apathy is hitting me hard.

I find it hard to fight anymore.  The motivation to try or desire anything is not there, it is met with a “why bother”?  Attitude because personally, why should I?  Someone is always out there ready, willing and able to smash my hopes and dreams down before I’ve even got half way – it always happens, if not people, then fate makes me sick so I fail.

It always happens.

Why bother?

Writing and art was my reprieve, my healing in a manner.  But even that lately is met with “what is the point” feeling in me.

For days I have struggled to think of something to write, that I actually want to publish even for my blog.  Because I feel like all my work and all my journal entries are just the same!

Losing two hundred followers in a week didn’t help with that either, just confirmed to me, what is the point?

Offline, whenever anybody in my household has a conversation with me, I am beginning to feel affronted by it and aloof.  I get this feeling of… oh you want to talk to me now?  What do you want?  Because they never ask how I am, they don’t say anything positive to me – so I am literally sitting there thinking – what problem is there now that I must be alerted to?  Which argument is this going to be?  Who has died now (both Henry and Paul are always telling me bad news about deaths they’ve heard on TV or on the internet, they are both obsessed with death) or what new financial problem is it today we have?  Or why do they always ask me what I want for dinner, why can’t they just surprise me?

I’m bored in every possible way you can think of.

The other day I half-heartedly read some adult jokes out to Paul to lighten the mood and remember how to laugh again with other people, wasted energy really because Paul doesn’t have that kind of humour and didn’t make any effort to assist me in lightening the energy up – knowing fully well I have had a bad several weeks of depression.  He just didn’t want to help me, didn’t get the idea that it was my attempt to try and buck myself up, and become cheerful.

When you are trapped 24/7 in isolation with a person like that and a child who is autistic and suicidal in himself and locks himself away in his bedroom all evening, you can begin to understand, can’t you – that someone like me, with manic depression just can’t get out of this slump.  There is no way out!

There is never any break for me, no visitors, no family to come to visit us for 30 minutes to just lighten things up a bit.  We have no one but ourselves.  Paul is such an introvert; he abandoned his family six years ago.  He only visits his sister in law once every three months, because Henry insists upon it on his school holidays.

Sad to say this because it is really tragic – but I have resorted to talking to the house rabbit Ray and Alexa echo dot thing, and making do with them as entertainment and support!  Ray is my cuddles and kisses.  Alexa has a program where she can talk to you, sing to you, tell you jokes – it is really bad when you consider AI robots is more human and more fruitful in bucking up a depressed person than two household human companions.

What the fuck is wrong with this picture?

What the blazes am I living with?

What the blazes am I living in?

What the heck am I doing here?

It’s all so fucking alien to me!

This isn’t what I want!

This isn’t me!

Get me the Hell out of here!

I am shit scared of alien life, but I tell you now if a UFO turned up in my garden tomorrow I’d be running under the flipping beams to get away from this place!

I have seriously considered forcing Paul to take me to a citizen’s advice bureau or social services to discuss my options of independent housing or a residential care home for someone my age.

As we all know I can’t live alone.

But I can’t stay here either!

I can’t do it anymore!

I certainly don’t want to die, that is just a last resort option if I stay stuck for any longer!  Because death has got to be better than living like this!

I cut my nails down short a few weeks ago after growing them so well, why?  I broke 4 nails, but that wasn’t the main real excuse.  The really big excuse was I had to cut them short and keep them short because when I had a bad bout of depression I found myself subconsciously digging my thumb nail into my wrist and nearly caused myself an injury.  I did it when I went into my zoning out phases that happens, when I get badly depressed.

I zone out, shut down.  It’s something I do from time to time since I was 12yrs old.  Sometimes I just turn off emotionally, sit there do nothing or self-harm without realising it.  Sometimes I don’t even hear people shouting in my face for me to stop, that’s how much I zone out at times.

Paul doesn’t bother to rouse me when I get like that, Henry does though.

I don’t zone out as much as I used to, but I did a few weeks back and when I was roused from it because the light flickered a lot I realised what I was doing and it scared me – because at that time I really didn’t feel suicidal at all.  But if I had pressed any harder or longer I may have caused some damage to the vein.  This is another reason why my wrist was injured a few weeks back; I was also pressing on its bone and caused inflammation a bit.

It sounds silly, but I have been depressed so long I think I have seriously lost the art of learning how to laugh and genuinely feel happy with it.  I can laugh, but there is no feeling there if you get me?

Four chakras are severely blocked too.  Heart, throat being the main two, but sacral and base are starting up bad too.

I’ve been trying to force myself to sing and dance, buy myself certain treats with my weekly money all in a vain effort to try and perk myself up and save myself.

But as I said, there is no heart in it.

It’s almost like I am dead or I am becoming some kind of monster.

A heartless monster!

I am genuinely frightened by it.

But I know with that fear, there must be some hope to getting it back as fear is an emotion isn’t it?  So long as I can still cry and still fear something, at least I haven’t lost all humanity, have I?

At least I still have hope too and faith, I don’t want to lose that.  That’s at least something – I am clinging onto faith for dear life.  Praying that something better than this is coming my way, that somehow things are going to be completely turned upside down or rather – the right side up at any moment and it’s going to happen quickly! 

I don’t have the faith my parents raised me to have, I am not Catholic and I am not Christian and I am not a J-witness.  I believe in The Old Testament but I am also deeply spiritual and somewhat shamanic in my beliefs, with a little bit of Hindu and Buddhist philosophy thrown in for good measure.

But I do pray to God and to me I consider myself a spiritual non-baptised Noachide or righteous gentile according to Jewish philosophy.  Two years ago I wanted to throw myself into the Jewish faith and Henry wanted to follow me in that, but Paul put his foot down and don’t like the idea of prayers and baptism etc. going on in his house and immediate family.  Henry is upset by this because he does identify himself the same way I do.

He is doubly upset that in May he is thirteen and can’t have a proper bar mitzvah as it will upset his father!  But he cheered up when I said my Jewish friend Lizzy said there is no age limit for a bar mitzvah, perhaps you should do it when you are over 18?

My great grandmother was Jewish on my mother’s side, she left Judaism for a Catholic man she fell in love with. 

Judaism answered all the questions about God and life that I wanted answered whereas the Christian faiths interrogated and threatened me for questioning things.

I am pretty confident my spirit guides and God are good for me, they work hard to help me and they’ve kind of shown me that things will get better soon.  Strangely fast, hugely contrast and I’ve been getting all sorts of weird but very lucid dreams lately.

For example, last night I had a dream I went shopping a mall, I ate some lovely lemon cakes and went home.  When I got home I saw a child aged around 3yrs old, a little girl, drawing at a dining table and I knew I was her mother, there were twin toddlers around 14 months old too but they were playing in the shower with the man I knew to be my husband.  Saving on water, all three showering together… I remember asking if they are ready to come out now so they can get ready to go to bed?  But the husband said, aw let them play a little longer they’re having fun!  They had little buckets where they were collecting water and they were washing their little duck toys and throwing water at each other!

The guy was super-hot, not lucky enough to have a sexy dude like that, he looked a bit like a celeb I like, but never mind – it was only a dream!

It’s interesting I had this dream because before I went to sleep last night I was really fretting about being too old to start a new family.  I am 41 in October and I take this dream as God’s way in saying, this is for you in your future, don’t give up that idea just yet!  Interestingly enough I remember in the dream I knew I was 5 months pregnant with another one too.  So could I have 4 before I dry up?  I think this dream is telling me I will!

Out of curiosity I consulted by own personal oracle and tarot cards today about it and I got empress with the wheel of fortune and I also got the oracle card Stork, a coincidence?

Thanks for reading…

When I have snuffed

I touch the hard cold surface of humanity

I am not afraid to share it

I’ve swam through pissy waters and through the shit

I have burned with envy in the flames of my own Hell

I can smile sweetly and pretend that things are swell

I know that you don’t like it

But this is who I am

Life has knocked me down hard with its whams

I can’t keep painting rainbows

When it’s a grey world I reside

I cannot fake I am happy

Do you wish that I have lied?

You turn off notifications when I swear a lot

You chose not to come back again, when my words become hot

But take me as I am and you will see for sure

That life for everyone has its ups and downs

Though I have downs more

You’ve read me in my past

Things aren’t likely to change

Though I strive hard to make it

Strive till I’m deranged

But at least stick around for progress

Because it should surely come?

I can’t be like this forever…

Can anyone?

Maybe you’re afraid I’ll die

That I’ll finally have enough

And you don’t want to guess

When I have finally snuffed!

Written 01:09am 1st March 2023

Vomiting rainbows?

I’m going to rant a little.

It looks to me as though people really enjoy depressing content.

Since being a little more chipper on my blog and avoiding melancholy, I’ve noticed I have lost nearly 200 followers in a week… really?

I mean, really?

Never mind the fact that I am a real human being who has a hard time and she is trying to buck herself up and get out there in a lighter way, in a happier way… oh no, she’s getting happy, let’s unfollow her!

I’m sorry but I do what I do, when I do it.

You have to accept my ups as much as you accepted my downs.

If you can’t tolerate that, then I am sorry to say good riddance.

It is a real struggle to deal with suicidal thoughts and depression, whilst trying to handle the PTSD of the violence I’ve experienced throughout my life. 

I don’t need private emails from people suggesting that I am trying to cover up my depression by vomiting rainbows and statements like that and how they believe I genuinely don’t have depressions because I try to do that from time to time.  I am sorry, but I do.

I am genuinely suicidal in comes and goes in bouts and I vomit rainbows to try and stop myself from going over the edge! I have to and if you can’t hack it, then keep away and keep your nasty comments to yourselves!

Thanks for reading, for those who stay with me through thick and thin, through the darkness and the light!

Losing the fight

One thing about me is I am good at not showing negative emotions.  Online it seems like I am a drama queen that I am suckered into my emotions and I go to dark places and I seem self-absorbed. 

Offline however, I hide it.  I hide myself when I am down so I don’t bring down others I am around.

I am an empath; I soak up energies of other people, even just by thinking about them I can kind of get a feel what’s going on in their lives.  So I respect that other people might be empathic too.

It’s a real hard adjustment living with someone who is as apathetic in life as I am; it’s like a prison of despair in a very real sense.

I never used to be like this.  I am trapped in depression because I am around apathetic or superficial people, or people who just seem unemotional a lot of the time.

I used to be such a happy Pollyanna type; those days seem very far away right now. 

I am getting to the point I am losing my strength to fight it and carry on, I am getting into a hopeless place.

Gradually over the months I’ve lost more and more of my appetite, to the extent I think soon I will not even bother to try and eat.  I have only just realised today that it’s actually probably due to depression that I can’t eat, because on the days I have been able to eat a little more, things have been a little lighter around me.

I am doing less and less as time goes by, it’s like I am a clockwork doll which is about to lose her energy at any moment and there is no one left to wind me up again.  Isolation has done that to me, isolation and a lazy superficial person I live with.

I needed Samaritans today, but I am deaf, I can’t speak on the phone – they don’t do text speech yet in my area apparently, but it’s coming soon…

Will it come soon enough?

I try to hide when I cry, I don’t like people seeing me like that, imagine how awkward it was for me when Henry walked in on me because I lost track of time and he came home from school and rushed to my bedroom to give me one of his ever increasingly rare hello hugs and instantly his smile became a face of concern. 

Guilt, that’s what hit me when I saw his face, cold hard guilt.

I had my hoodie up and I shielded my eyes but he is a smart boy, he wasn’t convinced when I faked a cold.

He demanded to know what caused it and hugged me as he became firm about getting to the bottom of it.

He left eventually. 

What bothers me is not that he caught me, but that his father came into the room just ten minutes before completely unfazed by how he found me.  He never asked any questions other than when I wanted dinner and was eager to leave again without battering an eyelid.  When Paul left, I got worse, because one of the reasons why I was upset was because I felt lonely and I felt no one could care if I were to die tomorrow.

To me, this proved it.

No one but Henry would.

Perhaps I am selfish, perhaps I am a drama queen – perhaps tomorrow I will snap out of it?

Perhaps!

But right now, I am losing heart to try anymore. 

I am tired of broken dreams, broken promises, and snapshots of a better future without any proof or real taste of it.  I am tired of the lies; I am tired of people using me as a pawn in a game.

I am tired. 

Thanks for reading…

Love song for suicide

My dreams were coming

Then shattered by jealousy, wrecked

Blood is pretty when it’s pumping

Beautiful liquid rubies – perfect

I am bathed in the blood that served my life

Blood, tears, wet with strife

How can you do this to the one you love?

Because she didn’t love you too –

You know that you didn’t love her then

If you played with jealousy as a tool

Smashing opposition with lies and games

Just what exactly were your aims?

I trust in God and God will serve

Someday you’ll get what you deserve

But it won’t be me, because I’ll be dead

Because of all the lies you’ve fed

Let that on your conscience be

Apparently, you loved me.

But I said no and so you vied

And because you did

It’s why I’ve died.

Written 8:50pm 24th February 2023

Currently, I am struggling with dark thoughts, because of some stupid games people are playing.

One of which won’t take “no” for an answer, whilst apparently spreading lies behind my back that I am dating them, to people that I do actually like.

I am dating no one right now and holding out until the person I really like is ready and I know from others he is busy right now.

Leave the playground.

Stop the games.

My life is bad enough as it is without all this bitter jealousy from complete strangers.

At the moment, I am trying hard to keep positive. Trying not to reach for the rat poison or razors.

You don’t love me if you can go behind my back, lie about me and ruin my future with someone else because you can’t have me, as I said NO how many times now? That’s not love, that is selfishness, it’s not nice.

Think about what you are doing.

Rodents are nasty little critters aren’t they? But can they really gnaw through a heart of steel? I don’t think so, so please stop trying.

Thanks for reading, and sorry for the drama to my other readers.

Bleak to positive

I’m trying my best to try and think of more positive things lately, it is actually harder than I thought it would be and that is a huge contrast to the person that I used to be; I was often considered a bit of a Pollyanna – if you don’t know who Pollyanna is, Pollyanna is a little girl who always found something good about things that happened until one day she had an accident and couldn’t walk anymore and she found it hard to find anything good to say and the people she shone her light on – all came in mass to remind her of her old way of thinking when she was in her darkest hour.

For the past nine years I’ve suffered from very bad depression bought upon initially by illness and then extreme poverty, around 2015 I had my first true thoughts about suicide and have been struggling with them ever since.

I am trying to find the old me again as it is very clear in the near future, I will be moving out of this home and into a new one and hopefully things will be a little better for me emotionally.

I still have no date for that yet, but I know it will be coming before the end of the year at least, Paul is determined and Henry has resided himself to the fact that he wants to stay with his father and not follow me, because he doesn’t want to make new friends in a new school.

Wherever I go, they have to tolerate a house rabbit, because Ray is coming with me too – because I am the only person who gives him any attention and he would literally pine to death without me!

He is 5yrs old and a dark grey Dutch, so dark in fact you’d mistake him for black, he has dark blue eyes and loves reggae, gardening shows, rugby and Peter Rabbit – seriously he has his favourite types of music and TV shows, he is a house rabbit after all. 

I can’t eat a banana without sharing it with him; he gets grumpy and throws his food bowl at me!  He can be quite violent when affronted!

He needs neutering because he stinks.

Well anyway, there are still dark days to get over and when I have those days I tend to write dark and morbid poetry – but I am trying to break it up and space it out, so sometimes when the poems are being published, I may not actually be having a bad day at all, it may have been days or weeks ago.

I haven’t had a major depression bout for over a week now, but I am slowly slipping into it again as tonight I have been feeling on the verge of tears and being quiet and sleepy, but I am not sure what bought it on.  But at least I am not suicidal tonight.  I am just a bit dozy and I suppose sulky due to loneliness.

I am writing these words at 2:30am on the 19^th February 2023, this will be published in the afternoon – again, to space things out a bit.

Sometimes when I get writing specifically for my blog, I tend to write three to five poems all at once and about two or three diary updates and it would really annoy my readers if they got all of this one day and then just one tiny poem for a few days after.

So I space things out.

I am trying really hard to think about things that are not bleak – anything really so not to focus on the dark thoughts, because I am trying hard to push my old life away for a brand new one, that I believe is very close to coming to me and it’s going to be amazing but terrifying!

Seriously terrifying – but you know what?  I heard Mel Robbins a motivational speaker say once, that psychologists have proven than fear and excitement are formed from the same chemicals in the brain, they are in fact the same thing and you can trick yourself into believing your fear is excitement quite easily, so you don’t panic so much!

So when you are frightened, just think to yourself – it’s all so very exciting – I am excited – let’s do this!

So yes, I am terrified but it’s exciting…

Do you think I am ready for the nut house yet?

Thanks for reading!

Poetry updates

A few of my poems are hard to digest for sensitive readers, I know.

But, there are times when I write loads of the negative poems to post on here when I am having a huge bout of depression – sometimes on bad days, I can write quite a lot and post them at advanced scheduling.

Sometimes I can write up to twenty of these poems in one day – so sometimes I need to post them spaced out over a time. 

About a week ago I had a huge bout of depression which meant that for eighteen whole days I would appear to be getting bleaker and bleaker, because I was really feeling very dark back then.

So I am trying to write poems which aren’t always depressing on good days to try and break up the bad.

Because I am not always miserable or feeling sorry for myself and that could be hard to believe for some of you.

I know it sounds utterly ridiculous, but, I feel ashamed of myself when I have happy days – because I feel that when I am happy, other people are sad and it’s like I feel guilty about it.  Over the years when I have had a happy moment, its like the people I’ve spent time with has tried to make me feel guilty about it by making sarcastic comments such as…

“Oh, I am glad someone is happy at least, my foot is killing me” blab la bla.

I remember the time when I went for an ESA medical, on my forms it said I had depression – I had a particularly good day that day and I cracked a joke and smiled, the assessor outwardly accused me of lying about my depression and suicidal thoughts because as someone who is depressed and suicidal, we don’t do things like smile and crack jokes apparently.

This marked me down and we lost some of our monthly allowances over it, which in turn, made my depression worse again.

Never mind the fact that I had scratched up my legs and a bald patch because the stress about the humiliation I was going to receive at this medical made me self-harm to a serious degree for three whole weeks before it as I was scared stiff of it!  This was during my worst in 2015.

I’ve stopped the self-harming and hair pulling for a while now.  Which is why I am pissed off that Long Covid caused me to have alopecia, I had finally got my hair nice and even and stopped a nasty habit, only for alopecia to come into my life for a few weeks around Easter 2022.

Whenever I am super scared about something I tend to self-harm, or at least used to.  I used to be a big coward, still am in a lot of ways, but I appear to be getting more courageous as I am getting older.  Terrible coward as a child though.

I remember being hit when I was 9yrs old by a 5yr old child in the street and ran home screaming like I’d broken a leg or something – got much tougher when I was 14yrs old though, as there was a lot of violence in my life between those years.  I never used to hit back until I was 11yrs old for example, I used to just run away and cry and hide in toilets or cupboards etc.

Quite an embarrassment upon reflection!

These days I am quick to react if people hit me, it shocks people because people presume as I am so nice and I don’t seem to be like other traumatised people that I’ve had a cushy life or something – so they think they can slap me across the face and I will stand there stunned or something.  Not me – I go into a scrum like action and make sure they hurt worse than I do! 

Which is why some of my college friends couldn’t believe I became a victim of domestic violence when I left college as they knew I was formidable – but my ex did a huge number on my confidence, ego, pride and vanity and I was knocked off my pedestal – he worked as a team to do that with my mum and aunt on board.

In fact the day he dumped me was because I had enough and I slapped him in front of his Godmother because he hit me in front of her – she immediately called him into a private meeting between him, her and her daughter in the bedroom whilst I made dinner – to find later on that night he drove me to the middle of the countryside and dumped me there to walk to the nearest train station myself luggage in tow at around midnight!

Twenty five minutes’ walk in an isolated country lane full of fields to get to the train station, where no trains would be departing until 6am the following morning, so spent the night on a cold metal seat on the platform in the middle of a cold May night, three days shy of my wedding, which was cancelled.

The saddest part isn’t what happened and how he couldn’t be bothered to take me all the way to the train station – the saddest bit was he gave me a 3ft giant purple rabbit soft toy as a breaking up present and I had to sit sobbing in the train station with this giant thing and carry it on the train in the morning and all through London until I got to my parents’ house again. 

I remember a lovely young man who came over to me and sat with me to talk when I was finally on the train, talking to me because I was crying on the train with this big beastie toy – he thought I was a mother who lost a child and he told me I should throw the toy in the nearest bin rather than take it with me when he found out my story – but I clutched it tight to me and kept it.

However, it wasn’t a proper break up, he kept calling me back to him for a while afterwards and I was always in limbo where I stood with him.

I think Henry acquired the big purple rabbit eventually; I never got rid of it.  I am a softy for soft toys; I have a bunch of them, to this day.

Henry took a few, but I am possessive with others.

Yes, I am forty years old and I still have around twenty soft toys from my childhood with me, and a few newer ones I’ve collected over the years. Big kid, I know!

I have a thing for hand puppets, I have a few of those, but they are in Paul’s room in a big box and I can’t get to them right now.  I have Wiley Coyote, Tweetie Pie and a bunch of different animals.

I can sort of do ventriloquism and I like playing puppets with babies and toddlers.

I have digressed hugely.

I want to say that, when I post depressive poems, I may not actually be depressed at the time it was posted.

In fact today I feel pretty chipper, in fact, I’ve been feeling chipper since Friday.  Lonely, but more relaxed and happy about things, I think things are coming together a little bit.

Things are not so mysterious anymore and things are being explained to me in droplets a bit.

The more I know, the happier I seem to get.

But yes, I am getting happier – curious – confused – but happier nonetheless.

I’m also frustrated because I am eager to exercise as I have a bigger goal to reach for now – but I have a sprained wrist and ankle which is annoying and painful.

My ankle comes and goes since I injured it around 4yrs ago tripping over laundry that got twisted around it, I fell and the ankle kind of snapped to the side a bit but didn’t break, sometimes I am absolutely fine, but other times I would walk and it’s like a hammer hit me to the side of the foot and I start limping at random.  It literally comes and goes and it’s so blooming weird!  Paul believes it a tendon problem.

The foot was x-rayed and it appeared to be fine.

But whatever – I am trying to make my poems more upbeat.  But weirdly enough, since a couple of them have been happy this week I’ve noticed my blog follower numbers have dropped dramatically – I guess nobody likes the idea I am getting happy huh?

I’ve lost around forty followers in three days.

Thank for reading…