I actually really very nearly asked Google ‘how to relax’
All my chores are up to date, laundry, cleaning and the unpleasant task of doing the loo! (a weekly must on boat life) I don’t need to go shopping. It’s raining, so I can’t decorate outside. I could carry on with the sanding and varnishing inside. I could…
Or I could try something unique for me… Relaxing…
Chill out, without being exhausted. Nibble crisps, without feeling guilty.
Watch a movie from beginning to end without jumping up every few scenes to do something (that usually could wait) Even the cats are out!
So how do I relax?
I have the whole day to myself, for myself. Which is unique, I feel happy about this fact instead of frustrated. I might even try this ‘binge watching’ thingy… I brought the dvd box set of Taboo weeks ago and not had the time to watch a single episode yet… That could be a good way to relax…
I wonder why I find it so hard to do nothing?
Why I’m always filling my life with ‘things to do’
Some would say that I’m trying to hide from issues.
In reality, the truth is far more simple.
I feel that I have already wasted too much of my life in front of the ‘Simpsons’ and channel hopping for hours, throwing wine down my neck to relieve the boredom of an unhappy life.
I have watched my Grandmother and then in turn my Mother both become glued to the tube, both becoming reclusive, agoraphobic and angry at a world, they refused to venture out into.
I have wasted too many (depressed) hours, crippled with the inability to move physically, locked inside my mind. These are the remnants of my old life, who I used to be.
I am so busy, I fill days with adventures, with work, with chores, I keep myself busy because I feel like I have wasted enough of my life already.
So to relax, to have a day to myself, for myself is a day to be treasured. For I need to learn that these are important too that I am allowed down time… I need down time, or I burn out and sleep for a whole day, that’s not a pretty sight!
So here I am, writing to relax, pondering over how I can enjoy my day (guilt free) before my next adventure tomorrow morning…
I broke my own rules and let my emotions spill out onto Facebook. I know, I see people every day do exactly this and each time I witness the support of their friends.
I try to refrain from doing so, because of my own bloody stubborn mindedness.
Yesterday I might have broke my own rules, but I also discovered the reality that people not only care, but they also understand where I am coming from.
I’m not alone, we do indeed all fight our own battles… However it also helps to be kinder to myself too xx
… Found in an old note book, I wanted to breathe life back into words which touch my soul and spark the imagination…
Basically collected from Movies and Music, with perhaps a single Political Quote among the ridiculous and the fantastic. From single lines, to whole speeches.
Words are magic without the rituals. They can inspire, destroy, cast seeds of infesting doubt, lift spirits, mend broken hearts and instigate infectious laughter.
Whether they emerge from films, lyrics or great minds, inspiration can emerge from anywhere, even a public toilet in London! Where I once read an interesting snippet of graffiti… ‘Happiness does rely on the absence of problems’ …
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The Viking Prayer
“Lo, there do I see my father.
Lo, there do I see my mother,
and my sisters, and my brothers.
Lo, there do I see the line of my people,
Back to the beginning!
Lo, they do call to me.
They bid me take my place among them,
In the halls of Valhalla!
Where the brave may live forever!”
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“So it’s Rorschach and Prozac and everything is groovy”
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“Voilà!
In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valourous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition! The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it’s my very good honour to meet you and you may call me V.”
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“Just paint your face” the shadows smile
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If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever.
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Who is this great burdensome slavering dog-thing that mediocres my every thought?
I feel like a vacuum cleaner, a complete sucker, it’s fucked up and he is a fucker
But what an enormous and encyclopaedic brain
I call upon the author to explain
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I thought I would save the best (and the longest) till last…
I’m sorry, but I don’t want to be an emperor. That’s not my business. I don’t want to rule or conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone – if possible – Jew, Gentile – black man – white. We all want to help one another. Human beings are like that. We want to live by each other’s happiness – not by each other’s misery. We don’t want to hate and despise one another. In this world there is room for everyone. And the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way.
Greed has poisoned men’s souls, has barricaded the world with hate, has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed, but we have shut ourselves in. Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical. Our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery we need humanity. More than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost….
The aeroplane and the radio have brought us closer together. The very nature of these inventions cries out for the goodness in men – cries out for universal brotherhood – for the unity of us all. Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world – millions of despairing men, women, and little children – victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people.
To those who can hear me, I say – do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed – the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish. …..
Soldiers! don’t give yourselves to brutes – men who despise you – enslave you – who regiment your lives – tell you what to do – what to think and what to feel! Who drill you – diet you – treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder. Don’t give yourselves to these unnatural men – machine men with machine minds and machine hearts! You are not machines! You are not cattle! You are men! You have the love of humanity in your hearts! You don’t hate! Only the unloved hate – the unloved and the unnatural! Soldiers! Don’t fight for slavery! Fight for liberty!
In the 17th Chapter of St Luke it is written: “the Kingdom of God is within man” – not one man nor a group of men, but in all men! In you! You, the people have the power – the power to create machines. The power to create happiness! You, the people, have the power to make this life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure.
Then – in the name of democracy – let us use that power – let us all unite. Let us fight for a new world – a decent world that will give men a chance to work – that will give youth a future and old age a security. By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power. But they lie! They do not fulfil that promise. They never will!
Dictators free themselves but they enslave the people! Now let us fight to fulfil that promise! Let us fight to free the world – to do away with national barriers – to do away with greed, with hate and intolerance. Let us fight for a world of reason, a world where science and progress will lead to all men’s happiness. Soldiers! in the name of democracy, let us all unite!
It is cold
Creeps through your soul like steel claws
They clutch your heart
Your tummy
Your gut
Frozen
Your hands start to curl
Stiff fingers clenched
You can’t breathe
Or breathe too quickly
Hold your breath
Frozen
A white wash from head to toe
Heart racing
Mind racing
Thoughts racing
But you’re still
Frozen
You’re detached from reality
The mundane becomes surreal
Focus foggy exhausting
Feel sick
Can’t eat
Frozen
*
It’s all in your head
Snap out of it
You need to be more positive
Look on the bright side
You don’t look ill
*
But I’m in bed at 8:30pm writing shitty poetry
Because a phone call is too difficult
So i seek peace in sleep
Using words to touch kindred spirits
Until dreams take me away
^this little word is important… it means this is a diary entry, it is not fiction^
I write a little personal shit at times because I follow an interesting theory that ‘Writing about emotions may ease stress and trauma’ it means, when I have a bad day (which are thankfully few and far between) I write. I pour my heart, my emotions and my pain down upon *my* page.
I don’t even go into detail, I skirt around subjects which haunt me. I use words to free my mind without having to trouble anyone. I like this freedom, I value this ability to have this page for self expression.
I have chosen to focus on my Poetry lately, this was a proud moment in my life and because I feared being seen as big-headed, it took months to choose to share the whole assignment. This also gave me a short break from my fiction and gave me a little time to reflect upon how I use this blog for my scattering of ‘diary’ entries.
Feeling unable to express yourself, when you have already established a good mental outlet for bad days, is utterly crippling. Like feeling caged up inside your mind, because my thoughts torture me with guilt about letting free emotions upon my page…
… why should I feel guilty?
Why should I give up something which helps lifts the lid on painful memories, it’s unhealthy to cage words, it’s such a relief at times to pour my heart out into words…
This is my freedom, this is my self expression, this is not a ‘woe-is-me’ this is where I put my hurt, so it can’t hurt me.
Through my words, through my blog, I am free!
If you see any blog marked *Personal* you are hereby also free to choose to read my words or not, but I won’t give up using a tool which is of benefit to my mental health.
Last night I had a dream, I don’t usually recall my dreams, but this was vivid and frightening. In my dream I had a total breakdown, as I write the details are swiftly scattering from my thoughts. Yet my Mother was still alive in the dream, she was harsh and unsympathetic, disregarding my breakdown and walking away. I was a wreck, utterly immobile, my physical form trapped by my raging mind. Blocked from activity, screaming silently… Always screaming in my thoughts…
I sought help, walking down the yellow lines in the road until I found a house that would give me shelter and hope… Yet I was early, I was sent away while they took someone else into the property, escorted them to the guest room where they would be staying, I walked away towards a park, which was part of a park from my youth.
Upon awakening, I could hear the rain on my roof, that was soothing. Cats wanted feeding and the morning gave me little time for reflection.
***
It is no lie that I have been battling my own little mental monsters recently, a lot of this has to do with some painful truths which have emerged after my Mother’s death… The prominent pondering is whether or not she really loved me at all?
Six months on, I’m still awaiting grief counselling, initially this is something I snubbed and rejected but as the year dwindles by I am left considering that this maybe a good idea… Especially when dreams like this haunt my mind.
I am grateful that I have this blog, besides my silly little tale, I can freely express myself and pour all my thoughts onto the screen. Which I have done over and over again throughout 2017. I keep returning to this theme, I keep finding myself so close to breaking point and each time I turn to writing. I write until my demons subside and I can regain clarity.
I am calm as I write this morning, despite my lingering nightmare, despite feeling like I’ve failed in life throughout the first half of the year… I wonder if it is too easy to blame my failings on having to deal with Mum’s loss… I wonder if it is other little niggling facts that are a painful reality I have to deal with – externally I am almost dismissive in regards to some details (forgive me if I can not explain) Internally, I know that if I dwell, I will snap.
This I can not afford to allow, in my dreams maybe I crack, broken, rejected and cast aside. In reality, I write.
Writing gives me focus, even if it makes for dreadful blog reading… I would apologise, but why beg forgiveness for something which ultimately helps. I feel like I freedom, my mind is clear, I feel lighter, more focused. Like blogging gives me the ability to unravel my tangled thoughts and find direction.
I can face my day with a clear head and let the dream fade from my thoughts… One day, maybe I will find the words to go into the detail I need to cry.
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…
Tatterhood 