I’ve been quiet on here for a year – which has bothered me because I find this really theraputic and writing is something I really enjoy doing. I made the mistake of doing an Open University access course, with a toddler, which I thought would be easy but was actually a lot of work. I really enjoyed learning what I did and got really good marks in my essays afer convincing myself from my school days that they were something I wasn’t capable of doing. I am awaiting the mark for my final essay and therefore my final grade.
I wrote my final essay in the midst of a break-up. It should have happened at the beginning of our previous ‘break’ which resulted in a damaged front door and the police coming to speak to me at my mums but I was stupid and tried to work things out. I wasn’t strong enough now but I am now. I am now a single mum because the ‘normal’ in our home wasn’t normal and I didn’t want my son to ever think it was. I realise I was stupid and should have ended it the moment I first had to speak to the police (who were amazing!!) I should have realised that doubling my anti – D’s was a symptom of my situation and I could have stopped that but I didn’t. I was stupid. I will reduce my meds at some stage soon because I feel like a weights been lifted and I can do this. My strength temporably went into hiding but hey, it’s back!
I always knew I wasn’t the person I was made to feel I was. I now know what gaslighting is. I know know what it’s like to be abused online by people (person?) who knows nothing about the situation.
I have new goals. They’re small but important to me
- Remove his stuff from my house and get back to my home which I have paid a mortage on for 20 years. 5 years left – I’ve worked my ass off for this and I shouldn’t ever feel uncomfortable in my own home which I have done for several months
- Reignite my confidence
- Appreciate my worth and realise that, while I’m not perfect, I’m still a good person
Long term Goals
- Reduce my meds
- Ignore the negativity from people who know nothing
*A quote from the late, great Bill Hicks (Apart from Goat Boy, that sucked ………)
Peace and Love
A conversation started in work the other day. There were four of us, all from different areas, with different backgrounds and a slightly uneven mix of sexes but with two things in common. We were all born between the early 70’s and early 80’s and grew up in Northern Ireland during The Troubles. Three of us were born here and one moved over in childhood.
Many people in Northern Ireland were never touched by The Troubles but unfortunately our areas, Belfast and Lurgan, were. People I know from other countries have said their local news reports made it look like a war zone and maybe it was but for us it was normal. We were born into this and honestly, it never phased us.
As we reminisced and told our stories, from both a Protestant and Catholic perspective, we laughed. Other people joined in and told their tales and we laughed some more. Not because it’s funny but because our childhoods were surreal. Standing at the top of the road watching a riot, your mum (and everyone else in the street) opening the door when there were gunshots (why, someone has a gun out there?), stepping over soldiers to go out to play, young guys practicing shooting rocket launchers in side streets and having to give a police statement when a car bomb went off on the way to school. This is a mixture of all our stories. Town centres were closed off at night to prevent bomb scares. On day trips to Belfast the major shops had guards who checked your bags, scanned you with a metal detector and patted you down before you could enter. When you were watching TV and a message flashed up on screen asking for the key holder of whichever shop to report to the premises we knew it was a firebomb. My town centre got destroyed and I heard nothing.
The death toll and the ruined lives are frightening (www.wesleyjohnston.com). My family have suffered loss but I was never brought up in a sectarian (a polite word for hatred) way and honestly, the majority of us weren’t. Although we have the Good Friday Agreement we’ve never really had peace. There’s always been an underlying ‘something’ and it seems like we’re always teetering on the edge. Our politics is based on religion and not enough people are brave enough to step away – it’s how things are. Children are still being brought up in hatred and so it continues. All four of us have children ranging from adults to toddlers and we don’t want our kids to grow up like we did. Not that our childhood was bad but it was definitely strange ……
This is not the type of stuff I normally write but for some reason I felt like a needed to
Peace (for the love of whoever the higher power is) and love xx
“Blessed are the cracked for they let in the light.” (Unknown – according to my source!)
I have a bit of a thing for quotes. I think Facebook may have been the instigator but who knows?
I’ve started with this one because it struck a chord at a time when i needed it. In my reasonably distant past I enjoyed a smoke of the stuff requiring a roach. I purchased a random pack in one of my favourite hippy assed shops which just happened to have quotes and this was the first one in the book. I was in the throes of my very first incidence of my mental quirkiness and it gave me a flash of clarity. It made me appreciate who I am at a time I needed in most. It’s been a constant on my social media favourite quotes since that day!!
This insignificant quote has crossed my mind when my best romantic relationship and friendships have been established. The universe works in mysterious ways and this random instance has shaped my life in ways I couldn’t have imagined.
Peace and love x
At this stage it’s getting intimidating when I look at it. It’s like getting too big a portion at a restaurant and you don’t know where to start – in my case I don’t even start. It’s been building for weeks – nah, probably months!!
I will fully admit I’m a kinda lazy procrastinating sorta girl and I wish I wasn’t. When I’m welded to the couch watching the latest drama unfold on Law and Order, NCIS or CSI (yep, I love crime shows and will watch any incarnation of the aforementioned series’), I feel like I’ve earned it!! So I write stuff down on the list of doom, things that would take less than a minute to do but no, I write it on a freaking list. I’ve been putting my earring in for so long the hole’s probably closed up!
When I’m entertaining baby Arlo I have a good excuse but he’s such a chilled wee man that I do have time to do most things when I think of them and probably score off a few of the things that take a bit longer.
A this stage it’s really bugging me so what do I do? So this is my plan – I do the small things when I think of them and tackle one bigger item from ‘the list’ per day. Any more will be a bonus but I’ll be chilled with one. Starting tomorrow of course …….
Peace and love
It’s been a while!! My lively daytime Arlo is not loving the naps at the minute. I love it because he gets to see the world around him and he’s made so may friends in my coffee shop haunts. I really need to organise my time better – I’ve missed my wee blog posts!
My time off has made me realise one major thing – I don’t want to go back to my previous job when my maternity leave ends. I know I’m swerving into mummy blog territory here but it’s bound to happen the odd time! I work in a bank but I’m not very ‘banky’. I’ve been there 20 years come December so it’s really all I know. I’ve been in a back office centre for the last 14 years and in all honesty, as far as jobs go, it’s not that bad. I’ve always felt bad about working for a massive financial company but bills. Our office is very busy but pretty laid back. It gets too much sometimes though. We’re micro managed to within an inch of our lives – a system which doesn’t meld with the nature of the job but it won’t ever change. The thing is, I could probably keep on dealing with this and maybe drop a day cos they’re pretty good about stuff like that. My main problem is the commute. Even if I drive I need to leave at 7am and I won’t get home until at least 5.30pm. It seems cruel to wake baby Arlo at 6am and see him for an hour max when I get home. And what about his dentists and doctors appointments? I don’t want to miss the first crawl or the first steps!
This is in no way a criticism of the women who do this. I see ladies in work who have more than one child and way more stressful jobs than me absolutely rock it. They’re freaking superwomen! I’m just not very career minded and honestly I don’t think my mental health could withstand the lifestyle. I’m pretty sure my head would explode!
I do still want to work after my maternity – something part time that doesn’t leave me with a slight underlying feeling of dread before I go in. I had a look at some positions in the area last night and, although I still have a good few months on maternity I have a goof feeling about getting something when the time’s right. The only thing is, I have no idea what I’d like to do and never have but it’ll fall into place.
Now all I need is a redundancy from my existing job to get the mortgage out of my hair! I didn’t take up the last offer but what’s done is done so there’s no point dwelling on it. These things come up on a regular basis so I’m putting my faith in the universe to provide. I also have everyone I know either crossing their fingers or praying, wherever their beliefs lie ….. 🙂
Peace and love
For me nothing breaks up the day like a large latte in a chilled coffee shop, a day enclosed within the 4 walls. I know I could be cleaning or doing something productive at home but honestly, I’m not the sort of person who gets pleasure from that! I know it’s not for everyone and according to all the money saving professionals I could be saving £££’s by constructing my own caffeinated beverage and during times of maternity pay those £££’s matter but at what cost? My sanity trumps cash any day of the week!
So every afternoon me and Arlo (and sometimes the boyfriend) get ourselves ready and make that trek up the town. All the cars parked on the pavement stopping me getting the pram past give me thoughts of having a stiffer drink (sorry, it’s a personal gripe!) but a baby in a bar that doesn’t serve food is generally frowned upon so coffee it is!
Over the course of (too?) many years I’ve refined my list of preferences. Here goes ….
– It must be independent. Although it’s not always possible to apply this to everything in life, I do it where I can and with sit down beverage drinking it’s mostly possible.
– The staff need to be nice. It’s always good to be treated to a friendly face and have the staff fing out your name and know your regular order. On a side note – ideally it’s good to eventually become Facebook friends with some of the staff and even better to become drinking buddies but I know that’s a rarity!
– The coffee has to be good. I’m a latte girl. Boring I know but hey, such is life. I throw in the odd americano but only if I’m feeling brave …… Everyone who works there needs to make a decent cup – coffee roulette ain’t my game!
– There’s gotta be some comfy seats. You might not always get one but it’s nice when you do.
– It needs that special something. Whether it’s mismatched furniture, cool pictures on the wall or innovative décor. These are my things but each to their own!
– And my newest addition to the wish list is baby and pram friendly!
I’m lucky enough to have 2 of these in my small town so if you’re ever in Lurgan, Northern Ireland, 54.4635N 6.33346W (though I can’t imagine why!) you should definitely check out Love Coffee and Icons Coffee House Tell them I sent ya!
Peace and love.
(Apologies in advance – I found an old poetry book and felt the need!)
That ‘great’ unwritten rule book
The one that dictates what we do
Who we are
What we wear
Depending on the decade of life
We are stumbling through
The one that stops us from embracing
And makes us think too much about
A future which may never come
The one that hinders so many people
From living their own life
And being the best they can be
All because they follow the rules
Of how they ‘should be’
Those rule followers
Who look down on those of us
Who have chosen to ignore the constraints
Who dress, do and feel
How we want
Not how society expects
Or thinks we should
The girl who drinks alone in the bar
The people who get tattoos with meaning
The people who embrace their true selves
And don’t blindly follow trends
Those of us who have managed
To live as the free thinking minority
Despite the pressure surrounding us.