Peace in Rest?

Today marks the second anniversary of my brother’s dwath. Im getting together with some family to spead ashes in the same place as our grandfather was.

We didnt fokkow the original plan on funeral day due to weather conditions and a general lack of enthusiasm for anything other than that specific plan. The first anniversary was just a few months after the horrible inquest and a month after the dwath of our cousin following a shirt battle with cancer. Which overlapped the inquest.

So this year we feel able to get together and do something. It’ll be a fraction of the attendees from the funeral but im relaxed to know neither parent will be there.

Im still full of conflicting emotions. We weren’t on contact at the time he died, and now I’ll necer get the chsnce to change that. Which I had hooed would happen one day. Id also hoped hed be abke to pull through his triubles safely, without hurting anyone, primarily himself.

He was irritating, agressive, a thief, maipulative, irresponsible, without drive, confused, scared, caring, loyal, very unwell, and without the tools or courage to deal with historic abuse or current life. And I miss him. Not the him that i last spoke to but the one that I connected with and had some fun times with. And i miss the potential of what could have been had he managed to get the type of help he knew he needed.

I hope that his unfortunate death really has solved all his problems and that if any essence of him remains that he’s exploring the universe in peace. Getting into all sorts of nonsense and making friends with alien spirits, adventuring and having fun.

And maybe one day we that remain will find peace too.

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Happy Happy Joy Joy

Or if not  Happy Happy Joy Joy at least mild to moderate pleasure.

Right now I am feeling okayish….the best I’ve felt in ages! So while I’m able I will try to think about/list some positive things. Fuck knows I need a break from all the depressing negative shite…!

I have to admit, this is hard. While there are “good” things around me that feeling doesnt stay long and the lies of depression make it difficult to recall any positive feelings, even if I think about something great, It’s hard to feel it. So far I’ve been avoiding this post for two days…. a couple of sentences a day, not bad! Lets just get to it.

Things to be proud of:

  • Completing an intense course of therapy
  • Getting out of bed most days
  • Trying and keeping going
  • Taking responsibility

Things to look forward to:

  • Seeing my sister and her family
  • Dream holiday coming up later in the year
  • Long term, having made greater steps towards life goals
  • Going to the gym
  • Walking, anywhere. Preferably without pain but thats a whole other matter
  • Gardening

Thing to be thankful for:

  • A (relatively) safe home, its not great but its mine for now
  • Healthcare. It might be fucked and going down the drain but its mostly been there
  • Clean running water. And all the other piped in utilities and luxuries ie: internet!
  • Friends
  • Some family I adore and who are still alive
  • Benefits. Again, being ruined and stigmatised by govt, but without anything….

I might on occasion return to this and update it. It seems like a nice idea to keep me grounded in some positivity. Only time will tell if I do.

 

Whoever invented feelings needs to be shot

Hello stranger

Its been a while! I’ve almost managed to post a few times, almost.  And I would post more if I had the spoons.  Mostly I just write something out in my head and log it for later, occasionally I make actual notes! Just found some from last week…

Ignored by croud. Checked in by photographer. Lonely (tired)
Referred to as a friend by someone I admire. Feeling lost, lonely, unsure, worried about potential drop and inability to sleep and the work load demanding attention.
2 long hard days, 4hrs sleep and off to a rave. With a painful knee.
Tired. Tired. Tired. Sore sweaty and stiffening.
Needing contact and companionship. Need someone to UNDERSTAND how I am feeling and to comfort me to help alleviate the empitness, fear and trepidation. A common factor when unrested, such as after raving.
Acutely aware of self isolation, withdraw,
Dreaming, wanting, needing to complete the million tasks with no spoons to accomplish all the things that are impossible even when well rested
Scared of being exposed. As a fraud. Imposter. Interloper. Unwelcome loser. Rejection. Bring laughed at, whispered about. Paranoid. Distracted. Hungry for more, for change, to be different to be someone else.
Cheery fucker aint I?! If its not clear this was just after a club event, after which I was alone, again, and pretty fucked off. These are common themes for me, and have been powerful lately, I’ve actually been feeling lonely and alone. Like I do now, so much so that its ripping a great gash in my chest and crushing my head in a vice.
Because of life choices that I have made (solo poly) to give me the space, time, spoons etc to focus on Me and my health, I have created a situation for myself that is totally fucking with me now. My choice has not only been good for me but has been absolutely fine with the exception of a few times when I’d like to have some company.  Well today a friend asked me what do I need? I didnt want to answer because the answer hurt, made me teary, made me feel vulnerable and at risk of harm.
I need cuddles. I need to spend a couple of days just laying around, hugging, chatting, crying. With someone that understands me, or at least tries to (unlike some people) someone that cares, whos compasionate and caring. Who wants to look after me, care for me, hold my hand, comfort me, hug me.
But thats impossible. The result of isolating myself. So here I am, despirately not wanting to feel, taking gradually more detrimental actions to numb myself, causing harm in the process. Why cant I just wish it all away?

Can’t think of a title 

Someone got me good the other day, real good. In my therapy group one member brought up a subject (referring specifically to me) that’s been brought up loads of times in the past. One that I’ve spoken about myself. Maybe it was because of who said it, though I can’t figure out why. Maybe it was the immediate circumstances, or the topic that led to it, or my state of mind. I don’t know. Whatever it was doesn’t matter right now. What matters is how the fuck do I deal with it. 

It was a challenge, in every sense of the word. I can’t hear myself someplace at the back of my mind shouting ‘it’s what I need’ I got quite upset, for a moment and steered away to avoid crying, it’s bonkers that that’s still a big problem. But that’s another story, or is it. Although I felt and was very calm, I did my best to stay present and keep listening while people continued to critique me. My voice wavered just before I almost cried. My chest was tight with emotions and my vision narrowed. I’m sure that it was written all over my face and I could feel the sympathy eminating from others, couldn’t meet their eyes, only the eyes of the facilitator, and the person who raised the original point. They did not look back at me. 

As I write I’m making more connections between them and my mother, which would go a long way to describing why it hit me so hard. Right now I want to hit them, hard. 

I’m terrified of having been institutionalised, by the backwards thinking self serving government, by my actually severely ill but despirate for attention so will make herself ill mother, by schools, society, the whole fucking lot. But mostly by my parents, both of them are equally responsible, just as I am not responsible for what happened to me as a child. Nor for what happened to my siblings either. 

I have worked so fucking hard to not be them. And every time I think maybe I’ve made it, I realise that no I haven’t. I’ve just hit another wall. I am not responsible for then, but I am responsible for now. 

I am responsible for shaking off that bullshit they saddled me with, that’s kept me down and behind my whole damn life. I have to stop being like them, stop being scared of not being ill, stop being scare to take chances. I am not sick. But I am damaged, and that I need to repair. I can’t tell my sister that the only reason I don’t end my life is because I don’t want to hurt her. She’ll probably, hopefully, never read this but if you do, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t  couldn’t protect us all, I’m sorry you got hurt. And I’m sorry our brother got hurt. I failed. I failed to protect you, and now you don’t need me. I have no purpose. And I really need to find my purpose or I can’t go on. I’m trying to come to terms with the idea that it make take me time to realise what the fuck it is. Trying to get comfortable with the idea of just being okay to soldier on and be patient while I figure that out. And with trying to figure out if I actually want to keep living. Coz right now, it doesn’t appeal. 

Representation & My Search For the 13th Doctor of Bass Players

Pondering Fandoms

gui5

I keep talking about music, in life and in this blog, because it’s what’s on my mind. I podcast about music, listen to as much music as I can (for the podcast and because I feel like I have 20 years’ worth to catch up on) and I love the fact that I’m practicing my bass at least every second day to stay sane not just because I “should”. So, with that in mind I wasn’t expecting thoughts about representation relating to Doctor Who and the new, upcoming female Doctor to necessarily enter into the equation because of music. I thought I had made up my mind and come to a fair point of neutrality even if I couldn’t quite understand why the gender of the Doctor was that important to these people. Wasn’t the most important concern whether she was the best actress for the job? (Spoiler: yes…

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Flotation required 

I have a feeling I’ve not experienced in years. An overpowering sensation of emptiness that literally hurts. It’s horrible, not just because of what it is but also what it represents. It’s the past, the former me that moved on from this hell and learned to embrace my own company. Somebody who has spent years and tonnes of spoons letting go of that, who’s been thankful and even pleased at my progress here. 

But now it’s suddenly back. This chest crushing, heart stabbing, headache producing longing for something that’s missing. Something that never was, never will be….something that is – other – In the past this would happen when I felt lonely, lost, abandoned or generally sad. It was a longing for things to either change drastically, or to return to how they were just minutes before. I’d often find myself standing at a windows watching a guest walk away as they begin their journey home, and I would be left behind, alone and hating my own company. Feeling like my chest was going to cave in. Or likewise if I was having a bad week and I needed comfort, that pain would come. 

Now, I know I’m horribly stuck with my life. Despirately wanting an epiphany, needed an answer to the big question. In that respect I am longing for the other, wanting things to change. So maybe it makes sense that this pain has returned after so long away. I’m not so bother by they why, it more the connections and memories it brings with it. That awful feeling of being dragged backwards into old emotions and drowning in them, wondering why I can’t swim up for air. 

I’m okay.

Kinda, for now. I think. Thank you to those that got in touch. It helped me to get help. I’m processing things better cognitively, emotionally I’m not so sure about. Maybe I am, I certainly feel awful. Whether that’s because I’m actually dealing with stuff or its the same old bullshit wallowing I can’t tell. 

I spent a few days staying with friends, got some sleep, did loads of gardening and started to settle down. So I came home, to see if I could cope. Did not sleep the first night, took a pill to knock me out the next. Now its just the same tired old routine of shitty sleep and shittier dreams. I want to get out of here, really don’t feel like I can keep asking people if I can stay at theirs (despite assurances to the contrary) so am feeling trapped again. 

On the plus side there was a new boiler fitted today, at last. I’d have a bath of I could be bothered. I’d really like one. Maybe I’ll manage to do some dishes at least. 

Though right now all I can do is feel horribly rejected. I told (by text) a family member about my meltdown and asked if there was a family history of breast cancer as I had my appointment coming up. And later, with prompting and support from a friend, also asked the same family if they be able to come with me to the doctor for moral support. No response to either message. I hadn’t wanted to asked them to accompany me precisely because I didn’t want the possible rejection. But as I want to get past my issues with such things I sent the request. Had they at least said something, anything, I wouldn’t feel so fucked off and upset. And now I’m going to have to deal with the situation and that’s making me even more stressed. I wish I hadn’t asked. As it was I did the doctors appointment alone, looking after myself like I always have. Same old shit. 

Doctor thinks the lump is some sort of fibroma type thing, or something like that. Been referred for imaging to make sure. Probably won’t ask anyone to come with me as I cannot cope with another lot of non answers. I’m half not concerned and half fucking worried. My cousin just died from cancer (not breast) and I think someone in the family did die from it. Though I don’t know for sure which is why I asked. We’re it not for those things I wouldn’t be worried. I also upped the dose on my antidepressants, don’t know if it will help but it might.

We’re it also not for the fact that the family rallied around my cousin when they were sick but can’t even answer a fucking text for me… So. Many. Issues. Past traumas, current stresses and repeated let downs resulting in me looking after myself. I need and want to find people that I CAN turn to for help. Ain’t nothing I can do right now though, that would involve pushing myself way beyond my current capacity.