Posted – 26.05.17
Written – Date Unknown…
Posted – 26.05.17
Written – Date Unknown…
To refuse to feel my age. To refuse to act my age. For growth For determination For tomorrow To heal To let go For finding my smile For adventure For now! Anne Harrison 03.11.16
I wonder how many times I have fucked up and slipped back into bad habits because they are an easy coping strategy. How many times I fool myself into believing I have conquered my depression only to get the black dog snap at my heels. I’ve worked bloody hard to this year without a holiday. I long to go away, but that’s an impossibly (currently) there are many things I long for, like a release from crippling insecurities or a magic cure for panic attacks. But there really is only one answer… Me!
I’m turning into another year of my life and I can not go on living my life inventing non-existing fears in my mind.
I found some answers which actually suit me and who I am. I need to work on these and drag myself away from negative bad habits. I know I can do so, I’ve done so before. I am strong, I am beautiful, I am worthy! I need to believe that!
This is my birthday gift to myself xxx
Sometimes we have to face reality and ask ourselves, what the fuck am I doing with my life? Which pretty much sums up this year, my birthday is approaching and I’m finding that I’ve done nothing on my to-do list apart from adding more challenges to it. I don’t even feel ready to start my New Years Resolutions yet and it’s October! I feel that once I find myself on a roll, something comes along and pulls the carpet out from under my feet. One thing I have been able to maintain (even if I have not always written every week) has been this Blog. Which keeps my love for writing alive and my creativity flowing, sometimes you get my random thoughts, sometimes silly short stories and if you’re really naughty, you get my God awful poetry.
I’m trying to learn another language, having chosen to return to University, this is a dreadful mistake. I’m a total brain dumb tongue tied confused wreck! But I’m going to stick with it, after all, it is another stone to juggle in my life.
Jack of all trades – Master of none…I question my intelligence, it would be so delightful to be clever enough to do a degree, yet the more I learn, the further from my reach this imaginary goal appears to be.
I need to *Stop* Just pause in life, look around and take stock of who I am, where I am, where I am going and what I want to do… Because I feel like I’m trapped on a carousal, spinning, dizzy, grasping and slipping … There is so much I want to do, so many stones to juggle, I don’t know where to start and where to finish…
I destroyed my journal as my thoughts were drowning out production, thinking instead of doing. Stomping over the same ground, picking up more stones to juggle as I spin… I could be a circus act, if I had a glittery costume…
Don’t worry… I will carry on with my story shortly, today, I needed to air my thoughts. Maybe I should use my Birthday for a marker point for change? Or is that just tempting chaos? Maybe I should just embrace the chaos with a smile and a wink, safe in the knowledge that life will never be boring as long as there are stones to juggle…
Anne Harrison 25.10.16
i burned my journal at the weekend it was pretty and pink and crammed full of negativity i tore pages free from the spine with thoughts in my mind - words cant define i burned my journal and destroyed my thoughts self hatred and insecurity plagued the pages false promises and longing - that were not mine the constant illusion of perfection i burned my journal to free my mind a mind taunted by media images a mind obsessed with being slim a mind overthinking i burned my journal at the weekend it was pretty and pink and horded black words i had become a slave to the system i saw only flaws - i manifested my own hate i burned my journal and gave hate to the flames pages curling and blacking words set free to the fire that night i actually slept
Anne Harrison 17.10.16
I had been crying in my sleep, I know this because I awoke with dusty eyes, itchy and glued eyelashes. The fading remains of a non-memory swiftly leading my morning mind.
I had spent my dream in deepest distress, I had lost a baby yet I was at a wedding trying to be happy for the newly weds who were expecting. I don’t know where I was, this was one of my dream realms, where I know everyone, but none exist in reality.
There was a shadow, this shape which followed me throughout my dream, guarding me, watching me, because I could not see anything beyond my crippling torment.
I felt my belly, it was empty, hollow, like a broken eggshell, the life within stolen from me, leaving me shattered and running, running and searching, seeking the lost… Like it was something outside, beyond, reachable … But totally out of my grasp…
I awoke, Casper using me as a springboard, between the window and his awaiting food. Joy stirred, glared disdainfully that her beauty sleep should be disturbed by thunder paws.
It was 10 minuets before the alarm was due to go off and I had been crying in my sleep…
Anne Harrison 22.19.16
I realise I have not written in a while, neither blogging or fiction, but my little pink book has been collecting the never ending scribbles of a mind/life which feels currently trapped in limbo. Circumstances currently are limiting my freedom and although this is just a temporary situation, which I have no objection too, I still feel a little lost in life until everything gets back to ‘normal’ … ish …
So me and my little pink book make plans together, we analyse, we criticize, we sympathize and we look ahead, for looking behind was starting to destroy my peace of mind and looking ahead forms a clear path beyond the chaos.
I’ve enrolled in a writing class, Word Salad, which I am absolutely looking forward too, that inspiration to write on a regular basis and develop my rusty skills, have fun, create beauty with words, or vile horror… I wonder where this new adventure will lead?
But can I juggle words with language? For I am a fool to myself (and my bank balance) all common sense must have fled my mind, as I have also enrolled, again, with Leicester University to learn Japanese! These two courses I am looking forward to working through along side each other, one may influence or distract from the other or they may compliment each other…
I have been bold, I have reached out for something to direct me after I escape this limbo. This, and a recent (see this morning) insult, have actually added inspiration to push myself further, to reach beyond this current stillness, to actually question each fragment of my life and see a challenge instead of a stumbling block.
You know, I actually don’t want to be a famous writer, I don’t want to be an expert in any field, I have pretended, I have attempted to lead, to guide and advise… But in recent years I have cast off my old self and the fake ego which I have used as a mask to hide my depression. A frail soul disguised as something I was not.
I am happier without this ego, happier to begin again, to start from scratch and learn all new shiny adventures along my way. Life is more peaceful without the need for false faces and insults, instead of hurting, have spurred me forth instead.
Limbo will lift, in time, I know I have a ‘to do’ list longer than my life span, but at least this way, there will never be a dull moment…
Anne Harrison 13.09.16
I have been longing to write about Religion, my faith, beliefs and how these are fragile remnants of a once significant aspect of my life…
… But each time I dwell on this subject, my thoughts and what I desire to share are filled with resentment, neglect, rejection, toxic friendships (long past), ego and drama… All these horrendous negative concepts which bred in the darkness of my mind, where self confidence was fragile and insecurity merged with depression ruled my life… This feels like a lifetime ago, a very different me, with very different issues…
I found myself wanting to rant and stomp my little feet, to rave and scream like a wild woman… Passionately thudding my breast and declare to the vast heavens about my injustice, my agony… my my my… me me me… I unleashed my hurt, old issues and personal agenda.
These troubled thoughts haunted my mind until yesterday, yup, only yesterday… When writing about cake and the small things in life, my simple outline of a lovely sunny day and the amusing quality of feeling like a giant when sharing miniature cakes shifted something in my thoughts, I am not sure how or why this happened, only that a switch flicked somewhere deep within me and I realised I did not need all this baggage, that I was looking at all these memories through a thick storm cloud of frustration and not with clarity.
I was ignoring all the positive elements, all the happy memories, all the places I had visited, events I had attended, lessons I had sat through, skills and knowledge I had developed… All these beautiful foundations of who I am… I had shamefully hidden them under a veil of my own creation.
I felt like I had woke up, shook myself down and stared at the cat and realised *finally* that none of all that old drama mattered anymore, that this negativity was becoming a drain on my peace of mind, that I didn’t need to hold onto this anymore…
I let go, but at the same time, I also let go of my need to write about my religion. Because sometimes, even as a writer, I need to learn that some words are best left unwritten…
Thank You for Reading
Anne Harrison 10.08.16
Me: I want to write a story, something horrible which will churn tummies and ignites trigger warnings… Something nasty…
Me: Because I’m in a nasty mood and generally pissed off with this week, the state of the country, the world and life in general.
Brain: OK, since you put it like that, lets forget reality and try to think of a nasty tale.
Me: So… Haunted house?
Brain: Done to DEATH… Comeon, do you want me to list every example?
Me: Humph… Haunted Asylum? School? Castle? Forest? Fucking Ice Rink!!!
Brain: Nope, nope nope nope and nope… What are you thinking?
Me: Thought you were the one supposed to be thinking!
Me: So… possessed child?
Brain: *screams internally*
Me: Possessed Item!!!
Me: OHH… I know… Demonic Car!
Brain: I’m not even going to bother to reply to that!!
Me: Comeon brain, we need to work together, we can get through this writers block and think of something remotely original…
Brain: How about this for a horror story – A middle aged woman, who has had a rocky past decides that maybe it’s not to late to do something to improve her life, put all those grotty years behind her and look ahead with new promise, a fresh shine and a healthy outlook on life. Full of promise and wonder, venturing forth with her trusty cat companion!
Me: How is that a horror story?
Brain: Well you see everything is fine at first, then things start to slip and slide… Goals are neglected, ambitions ignored and naughty habits start creeping back into life, too much chocolate and puddings, all that lovely hard work trashed!! Until doubt and lack of confidence become all consuming… Waking up every morning at 5am with good intentions only to lay in bed for another hour mentally fighting with herself to move and always, always, always, ending up with the same hallow promise that tomorrow will be different, tomorrow she can start again and really do it this time. Meanwhile she surfs for inspiring images, quotes and hints and tips for making all the improvements she desires. The media enhances her insecurities, she is haunted by images of perfection that are totally unreachable as she is not an 18 year old model, but a middle aged woman with years of neglect clinging to her thunder thighs. Every morning, every day, every week 5am… the same hallow promise… Like an evil version of Groundhog Day… Where all good intentions always diminish in the face of cake and a new DVD series… More wasted days, wasted evenings, internally fighting with her own mind until…
Me: Until What???
Brain: Well you see the story doesn’t end there…
Me: … What shall we call this little tale?
Brain: … ‘The Story of My Life’ …
Anne Harrison 01.07.16
So I spent most of my lunch time yesterday working on a blog that I thought would be interesting and informative. I attempted to express an intelligent opinion and used myself and my own circumstances as a counter position to my argument. Yet no matter how much I wrote, re-wrote and starred blankly at the screen, I just could not get my words right. For some reason (I cant explain) somewhere between my brain and the keys, all the words got themselves in a jumble and what I read was bullshit. I’ve scrapped it, it’s shit.
I can not write like a blogger. I follow all these glorious blogs which are beautifully articulate with immaculate presentation and detailed thoughts, enhanced with links and images to express their words.
Oh not me, I just sound like a crazy cat lady, maybe a little bitter and twisted when I compare myself to the world around me, but ultimately I sound like a ranting loon!
I’m starting to feel like my writing is inadequate, my ideas inferior, I’m doubting myself and my abilities because I am always seeing my work in comparison to others work and I always view others work in higher regard than my own. I have this ‘I’m not worthy’ complex, which has haunted me since childhood, with constant school reports of: “Must try harder” “Could do better” “Fails to concentrate” “Constant daydreamer” … Following years of bullying quashed by confidence to the point of non-existence and despite putting all that crap in the past, I *still* believe that I am not worthy. Though I’m not exactly what I should be worthy of and why I need to constantly compare myself to others?
I am NOT a writer, but I LOVE writing… But I cease writing as soon as I lose confidence in what I am trying to write. The result of this is more than a dozen half finished projects, shelved ideas, foolish daydreams and an abuse of the ‘delete’ key.
I use blogging pretty much like my journal at home, to scribble ideas down upon a theme I wish to express my thoughts about. Generally I just write drivel and end up more confused than when I started. Recent events have shaken my resolve a little, I’m feeling a little lost and self conscious. But I wouldn’t want to bore you with the details…
Suffice to say, I’ve deleted what I wanted to write, I’ve written what I wanted to share and even though I am feeling a little fragile today.. There is always tomorrow and besides, maybe venting on the page might help clear my thoughts? Or maybe I shouldn’t really give a shit about (what I think) others think about? But then I would cease to be the complex and insecure individual I am.
Once my confidence has been restored I go back to being my glorious fabulous self and you would never guess at the hidden brain worms which make me feel shit about myself and my writing. So I’ll shut the fuck up before I bore the pants off you and go and get myself chocolate… Because… Chocolate!!
Anne Harrison 29.06.16