Dear Diary…

*Personal Blog*

I know I’m not in a good place, when anything I start writing begins with ‘Dear Diary’ …
It’s like my safety blanket,  this is where I need to pour forth my soul and if you are not interested, please return when my writers block has scooted away and I feel more human again… I hereby apologise in advance for a little self indulgent emotional drama…

On Wednesday 7th June,  this week just gone, this day should have been Mum’s birthday. I suppose it still is her birthday in a way…

It has been six months since I lost my Mother and I am stillI unable to cry, I refuse to talk about her death in detail to anyone,  I hardly ever talk about the slow dwindling decline I witnessed throughout the duration of 2016. Apart from a few scattered blogs, where I feel safe writing,  yet only ever hinting,  skipping around the surface of details with no desire to elaborate. I find myself carrying a whole years worth of pain and suffering,  totally unspoken.

Upon days, like birthdays,  these surface,  they rob me of my sleep and gnaw away at my thoughts… I want to pour my heart out and all I say is “I’m fine”
It’s nothing,  it’s hormones,  the full moon, wrong time of the month, headache,  my knee is troubling me… all the various bull shit excuses I can lean on without having to explain the truth behind tear less eyes…

I think I’m honestly struggling and I don’t know how to reach out or who to reach out too and there again… what would I say?
There are no details here! There are no haunting memories laid bare.
Just empty words and an aching heart…

Maybe it is simply hormones and I’m feeling grotty… I feel stuck in a cycle of inactivity because I can’t move forward… trouble is,  I don’t know how to…

So Wednesday has been and gone, with respectful passing thoughts.
I keep myself so busy that I just don’t give myself time to think. 
Today I utterly crashed out,  I have lost all spoons and fell asleep during the day  (unheard of for me) and my knee really does hurt and my tummy ache is quite real.

So is the pain in my heart…

Thank you for taking the time to read my words, if you have got this far, please allow me to reassure you that I am quite alright  (mostly) I just really needed some space and time to pour my hurt into words… and…

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Anne Harrison 10.06.17

Questioning my Confidence 

I am feeling lost a little unfocused. 

I see all that accumulates upon my ever growing to-do list 📃 and bury my head.  

I know exactly what I want to do in order to do what I want to do 

But I’m frozen from action 

I sit… Lost… 

I bury myself in chores 

I invent excuses 

I know I can do this,  so why can’t I start?  

I’m frustrated,  sat in class I’ve not studied. It’s always one day,  next day, next week,  month… Year… Never… 

How can I let myself down? How can I discard my dreams?  Lost in an endless circle of scrolling,  getting annoyed at myself for being frozen. 

The inability to start is clouded by a fog of insecurity.  

And I end up questioning my Confidence 
Anne Harrison 30.05.17

There’s nothing so cruel as memory

*Person Musings*

 

As a child, my first experience of being humiliated and disillusioned was a painful experience at Sir Jonathan North. I was deeply passionate about history, I wanted to study history and either be a historian, librarian or work in a museum. That was my goal, my fascination with ancient cultures… Especially the Romans, meant that I had collected a fine display of Roman pottery and coins. When we covered this era in history class, I was beyond excited and chose to take my collection to class to share in a ‘show and tell’…

Well that was a disaster, my class ‘friends’ mocked my collection… Calling the whole thing a waste of time and boring etc…
My bubble was burst, I was disheartened and at that point neglected my life goals, feeling humiliation and bullied…

My passion became a dirty secret, I lost a lot of the pottery (because it reminded me of being bullied) but somewhere in my heart the ancient Romans refused to let go of my interest…

So when the chance arose to visit the dig site in Leicester last weekend, I couldn’t resist, waiting an hour in drizzle and cold with hundreds of others, for a glimpse of Roman Leicester awoken some of my passion, but also a fair deal of humiliation.

However it has thrown into light an interesting concept in my mind, how one painful experience changed the whole direction of my life, because I was bullied for something I loved… Had I not took comments so personally, had I shrugged off such negative attitudes, would I have never been bullied for so long?

Had I just ignored them, would I have followed my dream, fulfilled my goals and become an academic? How different could my life had been had I reacted differently to one singular event?

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Anne Harrison 15.05.17

The magic of the Mundane

…Is that even possible?

 

To embrace normality, to enjoy every day tasks, to look forward and have fun at work… That might sound potty, to find comfort in all things dull and boring. However, as I can now reflect without anxiety upon events of last Wednesday, here I am one week later, finding joy in sitting at my desk. Please forgive me if I can not explain in details the circumstances which have caused so much distress. I fear that I do not know who is reading my work and although my blog posts are shared on Twitter and Tumblr only and not Facebook (where I know some trolls live) I am still reluctant to talk freely for fear of any further explosive outbursts.

In other words, I am far too intimidated to complain.

So I have been cryptic, I am vague, but even these few words are all aid in my processing events and regaining some measure of myself once again.

This I have found in embracing all the normal every day shite which is usually mindbogglingly boring. I am fortunate that I really love my job, so being back at work is refreshing. I’m back at University class, surrounded by good friends and immersing myself in a language from a culture I adore. Even my daily bus route feels comfortable. Slowly I am becoming more of my old self again.

This shock has also ignited something else I feel I have neglected in my life. My grief. Instead of refusing to accept this emotion, I’m actually starting to accept the fact that I do miss my Mum and I need to allow myself to grieve, that it’s alright, it’s not something to be ashamed of.

Maybe sometimes a unpleasant situation might awaken deeply buried feelings? I don’t know, I’m not an expert on such circumstances, I’m just plodding along at my own pace, finding my feet again, putting life back together in my own way and accepting new emotions that have arisen. Writing helps me put all these cryptic clues into perspective and although it might not be interesting reading for you, you beautiful cupcakes that read my mad scribblings, please trust me, this, along with my mundane tasks, it all helps me to shine once more.

… And a shiny Anne means more stories…

Thank you for being there, where ever you are, whoever you are, just thank you for being you  x

 

Love Anne Harrison

03.05.17

Adventure

*Musings*

 

I have so many ideas brimming around the corners of my mind, haunting my dreams, characters knocking at the door of creation demanding life. Yet my time at the keyboard has been limited by real life adventures around the country and beyond off to foreign wilderness, ever inspiring my frantic mind, fueling my desire to write despite my inability to do so.

I have notebook and pen packed with me, I have freedom to scribble notes and pour forth my dreams onto paper. The next six scenes have already been played out, yet by the time I get to kill my darlings, I know the plot could change. That is why I love the freedom of writing without thought, to allow my hands to direct the course of action.

I have visited some incredible places and the list of locations before me is even more impressive, I am nervous, I am excited, I hold anticipation barely in check and I know that inspiration will follow me like a bouncy puppy, jumping up always needing attention.

I see inspiration in art, in buildings, in scenery, in the people I meet, the people I pass, in my dreams, in literature, in starring out the window absently watching the world pass me by. Words flow into my brain, cram my thoughts with ideas… I might need a bigger notebook.

I should like to write about my travels too, if my characters ever let me, and I can try if I find WiFi… For now, I must return to work… Even that I can find inspiring!

I will try to write Part 70 at lunchtime, it’s a lovely number to leave you on until I return full of words and slim of wallet…

 

Love Anne x

19.04.17

 

 

 

On the Ledge

A Personal Blog

 

I had a dip, you might have noticed in some earlier thoughts I shared, mainly regarding losing my Mother and being reminded of this by the fact that my Parents Wedding Anniversary and Mothers Day being within three days of each other.

My Blog is my safe little corner of this cyber world, here I have always felt safe to express myself and write more than I could ever say in person and I write only a fraction of what I would like to say.

Having this space has given me the ability to work through my emotions and safely express myself, no one is forced to read my words and no one is obliged to reply, which places me in a comfortable situation. My life is interwoven with my ongoing ‘Not-so-short-short-story’ and I can find some measure of peace of mind.

A fellow Blogger recently sent me these precious words of wisdom:

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So I started to write, and write I did… It took me three days to write the following notes and even though I know I am not an expert in such thingies, you need to understand that I wrote these words for me… I know that sounds selfish, yet at the same time, I am sharing them… Because maybe, only maybe, they just might resonate to someone else out there in cyberspace…

*Dedicated to all those who find themselves lingering on the ledge*

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With Love,

Anne Harrison 30.03.17