Far from the madding crowd.

My mood has become increasingly bleak over the last few days. Every time I went on to Facebook, I felt overwhelmed and pressurised to be happy. People asked me what was wrong, and then when I told them, I was told to “cheer up” or to “pull myself together”.

That is the very last thing that a person in emotional pain needs to hear. We need to have our pain acknowledged and we need to be listened to! Being brushed off in such a way makes us feel so much worse than we did.

I was spiralling out of control, spinning off course and felt unable to do anything at all to control it. I felt bereft of emotion.

I needed some time away from humanity. I needed to get my head together. So I decided to deactivate my Facebook account. Not permanently. Just for a little while, until I can feel safe and calm again. Does that make sense? It did in my head! So I did.

This is testament to just how amazing some of my friends are. Within ten minutes of my account going off line, four of them had been in touch to see how I was. Thank you so much. You know who you are. (((hugs)))

Today I feel a little more positive. A little more like me. Am I ready to step back into the madding crowd? No, not yet. But I will be soon. Having the strength of friends helps. A LOT!

So if you know of a person that is feeling low or down, reach out. Say something. Talk to them. You never know. You maybe doing more good than you know.

The days where you hate yourself.

I know we all have them. You there, the one reading this blog (thank you for reading by the way) you will have had some bad days. Don’t try and deny it now… we’ve all had them. Those days are sheer hell on wheels!

I’ll tell you about mine shall I? I’m fairly sure that mine will differ from yours. We all have different issues, and they all choose to manifest themselves in very different ways. Hell, even things that appear the same are handled differently by different people.

Normally I can feel the approach of a stormer of a bad day the night before. I don’t sleep. I’ll sit with my arms clasped around my knees and just rock back and forth. I stare numbly at my surroundings and I feel like I have never seen them before. The tiredness begins to burn my eyes and pretty soon it begins to feel like I’m rubbing my eyes with rough grade sand paper. Then my eyes will prickle with tears and the horrible thoughts and memories come back to haunt me.

By the time that morning rolled up, I was like a total zombie. How I functioned through the morning I will never understand! The boys chose that morning to display their autism to its fullest effect. It is hard enough to cope when one of them blows but both??? *hides in corner and quivers*

However I deal with it the best I can until help arrives in the form of my rock. My lifeline. He takes over and I can fall back and sob until I’m all cried out. However, the feelings of sadness and emptiness do not go away. They fester and multiply, gaining more of a foothold until they are nailed to the inside of my brain and I know they will be there the whole damn day!

My carer is my life. I would be lost without him. But on these days I cannot even guarantee that I can be “normal” (I hate that word) with him. I’m closed off.

On these days, nothing is right. My pain is so severe I want to find the people who did this to me and spit roast them slowly with razor studded dildos up their asses. Even that is too good for them!

A part of me is scared that these days will never go away. That I will be trapped like this, stuck in this void forever.

These days leave me feeling sad, scared, anxious and alone. I look in the mirror and I see this hideously ugly monster staring back at me. I feel bereft of friends, of kinship, of belonging. The one place I want to belong? One person hates me. How can I belong somewhere like that? I’m a loner. I can’t taint other people with my mood.

I have A LOT of these days. More of these than happy ones. The days that I hate myself on seem to run my life.

But you know what? That’s OK. We are all allowed to have shitty days. You can have 364 shitty days. As long as you have one day where you can shine light into the world.

Why? Because eventually you will realise that you CAN change the course of a shitty day, whether it’s yours or someone else’s. All it takes is a wee smile. 😀

Online courtesy.

I haven’t blogged for a little while. I’ve been feeling really low. My black dog has been barking at my heels and I have shed an awful lot of tears. But that is for another blog post, not this one.

I posted something yesterday with a question as the heading for the post on my Facebook account. At no stage did I stipulate that the question I posted was my own personal view. I like to post questions that will provoke debate and discussion. Debate is good for us. We have to debate and not blindly accept. If we don’t debate? We become sheep that swallow any old crap we are fed.

I had a couple of replies to the post. One from a person I consider a very good friend. I agreed with everything she had to say and loved the way she said it. However, there was another reply too. This person was belittling me and made me feel so small and unintelligent.

I had been feeling so down, I burst into tears and felt like shit. But slowly I began to come around and my tears began to dry.

Then I started thinking. How many of us are belittled by others online? How many of us are left feeling like we will never be able to match the intelligence of others? How much damage is done by other people’s callous attitudes?

So we all need to be just a little bit more thoughtful and kind before we reply to someone. Because we just never know how much damage we may do.

Yes, I have tattoos…

OK, I’m seriously pissed off right now. I came home from the home from the doctors, and two poisonous little old battle axes were looking at me and pointing, (yes, fucking pointing) at me and passing comments loud enough for the whole surgery to hear about my tattoos. They were calling me names and saying that I must obviously be scum as I had tattoos. How disgusting tattooed women were. I was so shocked I couldn’t bring myself to relply to these bigoted old hags.

Ink does not define me. My heart does that!

The empty part of my heart.

I should be grateful. I have two wonderful, amazing children and am blessed to have some incredible friends too. Yet there is a space in my heart that is empty. It became empty 27 years ago when you died mum. You were the most elegant, stylish and beautiful woman. You were so kind and you loved me. Apart from my grandfather, you were the only one to love new when I was younger.

Despite how hellish my life was, I could always look at you bad feel happy and loved. I knew I was loved.

Then you had to leave me. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t want to leave me. The cancer took you away from me. It left the biggest hole in my heart.

The years may have passed, but the hole is as large as ever and the pain is as raw and hellish as it ever was.

My wonderful, beautiful mum. I miss you so. I love you and I always will.

Nobody asked me to hold the fucking door…

I have been really messed up over the last few days. I mean REALLY messed up. I felt like I had tried to help so many people and all apart from one person, none of them said thank you. That left a really sharp pain in my chest and I felt like I was worthless and not worthy of their thanks.

Then last night, I was watching Orange is the New Black (an addiction of mine) and it was an episode in season three. Joe Caputo’s girlfriend was leaving him and he got really angry with her because of all the help he had given her. She said something that really struck a chord with me. “You can’t spend your life holding the door open for people and then get angry when no one says thank you. No body asked you to hold the fucking door!”

That was it! That was exactly what I was doing! I was holding the door open! So at that moment I said to myself, “Fuck it! Do what I always do, but if people don’t say thank you? It isn’t the end of the world. I refuse to let other people’s bad manners stop me from being kind.” Helping other people makes ME feel good. Which is all I need.

Wrapped in a blanket of pain.

I am. Both a physical and emotional blanket. I’m trying so very hard to be positive and inspiring, but it is just so damned difficult.

I knew today was going to be harsh physically as today is the day that my new pain killers start. So my old ones have stopped. Yet do I have my new ones yet? No, because my local pharmacy are a fuck up par excellence! My carer will have to go down to the pharmacy at 11am to check if it has arrived. I should have taken it at 6am this morning. Nice huh?

I’m trying very hard not to bitch and whine about my pain, but when it is so all consuming, it’s damn difficult not to.

I’m hurting emotionally too. I reached out to someone for help. They pushed me away. Ignored my cries. I feel worthless and lonely and so fucking sad.

I Am Not That Mom

This is so much like me!

We Don't Chew Glass

I am Not that Mom

I am not that mom who sits on the floor with you playing My Little Pony for hours. I am not the mom who builds entire towns on Minecraft. I have never learned to play Pokémon and I never (ever) will. I am well aware of my failure in this aspect of parenting.

I am thankful for my husband, who excels in watching cartoons and playing video games. I smile when I see him and the kids tossing a football in the yard. (In the yard. No Throwing Balls in the House. Jesus.) I laugh when they wrestle and tickle and play, play, play.

I’m just not that mom.

I was the young soon-to-be mom, scared to death but determined, so determined, to bring you into this world and love you like no other. I was the single mother of two who worked long hours and still held dance parties…

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