I'm having a time of realisation lately, like I've been living in a bubble and not understanding what is around me, then suddenly I realise what's really going on.
I have so many things locked up inside that I just can't talk about. Why? Because it would be like bursting the bubble and letting it all out and I'm not ready to face the consequences. Time and time again I just want to say what I feel but I can't, because what I really feel is selfish and I'm not a selfish person. I don't want to hurt anyone just so I can be happy. To be really happy I would have to hurt a few people and I'm not prepared to do that. If I caused pain and distress to others I wouldn't be happy anyway. So I'm doomed when it comes to being happy, I just have to make do with what I have, make the best of it and pretend to be happy. I've had enough practice, I've had to make do all my life.
Regrets, I have more than a few, but no point in dwelling on them, what has passed is over, no point in wishing you could change what you can't. But I can deal with that, what I can't deal with is the future.
So I live day by day, I count my blessings and I ask God to guide me in my decisions. Then I try to save myself from myself.
Wednesday 29 August 2012
Tuesday 21 August 2012
Mum Would Be So Mad At Me
When I get under that dark cloud I start thinking things that may be described as weird or strange. Or sometimes I focus on the past, as far back as I can remember. I try to remember my Dad and my early years. It's not always easy and the memories, even if good ones, tend to hurt.
When I was little I had real trouble understanding why my mum was angry with me. Strike that, not only when I was little but all my life really. Even when I knew I'd done something wrong it seemed to me that my mum should be there for me and not be angry, not ever, not at all, no matter what. That sounds a little strange to me now but it's just the way I've always felt. The confusion I felt as a child would keep me awake all night, worrying why my mum was so mad, but not really understanding. As an adult, I didn't make her mad so often, but I still had trouble understanding why. Once, she was so mad she told me to get out of her house and never come back. I was stunned, how could she say that, how could she be so mad. I hadn't even done anything, not me, I was only telling her what I knew. She had to tell me, or rather yell at me, three times before I got up and left. I didn't see her for five years. I felt hurt and betrayed, how could she be so mad at ME.
This week, for the first time since she died, I realised that if I saw her now, if I spoke to her now, she would be so mad at me. It's like I suddenly get it. I know the only thing that makes her mad at me is when it involves my little brother. All those times when I was younger, she got mad because I didn't play with him, I made him cry, I didn't stick up for him, I shouted at him, I told on him for doing wrong. Anything I did against my little brother made me the butt of her anger. I didn't hate my brother, I loved him because my mum loved him so much. I would have done anything for him. Even when I knew he did wrong I felt bad for him, and I felt bad for my mum who protected him when the whole world was against them. I couldn't help it even though they didn't deserve it.
When I made up with mum after the five years apart we had an unspoken deal that we did not talk about what had happened. And I refused to talk about my brother.
When she knew she was dying she asked me to look out for him.
I tried but it was hard, he knew what he wanted.
He killed himself.
I let mum down and if she saw me now, if she spoke to me now she would be so so so very angry with me.
When I was little I had real trouble understanding why my mum was angry with me. Strike that, not only when I was little but all my life really. Even when I knew I'd done something wrong it seemed to me that my mum should be there for me and not be angry, not ever, not at all, no matter what. That sounds a little strange to me now but it's just the way I've always felt. The confusion I felt as a child would keep me awake all night, worrying why my mum was so mad, but not really understanding. As an adult, I didn't make her mad so often, but I still had trouble understanding why. Once, she was so mad she told me to get out of her house and never come back. I was stunned, how could she say that, how could she be so mad. I hadn't even done anything, not me, I was only telling her what I knew. She had to tell me, or rather yell at me, three times before I got up and left. I didn't see her for five years. I felt hurt and betrayed, how could she be so mad at ME.
This week, for the first time since she died, I realised that if I saw her now, if I spoke to her now, she would be so mad at me. It's like I suddenly get it. I know the only thing that makes her mad at me is when it involves my little brother. All those times when I was younger, she got mad because I didn't play with him, I made him cry, I didn't stick up for him, I shouted at him, I told on him for doing wrong. Anything I did against my little brother made me the butt of her anger. I didn't hate my brother, I loved him because my mum loved him so much. I would have done anything for him. Even when I knew he did wrong I felt bad for him, and I felt bad for my mum who protected him when the whole world was against them. I couldn't help it even though they didn't deserve it.
When I made up with mum after the five years apart we had an unspoken deal that we did not talk about what had happened. And I refused to talk about my brother.
When she knew she was dying she asked me to look out for him.
I tried but it was hard, he knew what he wanted.
He killed himself.
I let mum down and if she saw me now, if she spoke to me now she would be so so so very angry with me.
Saturday 11 August 2012
In The Dark
In the dark. That's how it feels when the depression starts to hit. It's like someone has turned out the lights and I can't find my way. I've a lot on at the moment, not all bad, but the good stuff just isn't making me feel any better. I'm on that slippery slope again, going down deeper into the darkness. I don't need a reason why, I don't need to be asked what's wrong, no-one can make things better I just have to ride it out. Sometimes it passes quickly, sometimes not. I keep myself busy for as long as I can hoping that I don't get so bad that I just stop and do nothing except the essentials.
I don't sit around crying, or stay in bed feeling sorry for myself. I don't complain or moan. I do sometimes get angry a bit quicker. Mostly I am a lot quieter than usual and I prefer to be alone. I don't like going out when I feel like this, even a trip to the shops is difficult.
Mum always told me to 'snap out of it' but it's not that simple. I wish I could.
I don't sit around crying, or stay in bed feeling sorry for myself. I don't complain or moan. I do sometimes get angry a bit quicker. Mostly I am a lot quieter than usual and I prefer to be alone. I don't like going out when I feel like this, even a trip to the shops is difficult.
Mum always told me to 'snap out of it' but it's not that simple. I wish I could.
Thursday 2 August 2012
More Reminiscing, (This Time with Photos)
Some old photos which I have scanned.
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| The only time I went blonde, 2000 |
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| summer day, approx 1996 |
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| The year the Millenium Dome opened |
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| Me and my first daughter, 1989 |
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| My lovely nan on her 80th Birthday, 1989 |
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| At work at the uni library...ok we had shut for the day! 1999 |
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| wonder what she's thinking? app. 1993 |
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| naughty kids go in the bin, app.1991 |
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| At the Fair |
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| what happens when you let your 5 yr old lose with the face paints |
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| Playing Pokemon Cards (at the Millenium Dome) |
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