Every Step

A song for the ladies I know that this could relate to...

Every Step by Charlie Winston

















I'm a fool to be kind to you;
It's not what the men in your life tend to do
Must be so strange ; finding someone
Who only accepts you
Rejection's a lesson you've had
You're lost in the anger you feel for your Dad
But, Oh, how he loves you,
There's no doubt
With all his high hopes for you.
I could push you away
I could say I don't want you no more
I could drive you right into the floor
And tell you are useless ;
Get used to it Lady
But I'm big in believing that baby,
You're bigger than that
It's respect for yourself that you lack
And success ; it's a mood that you chose
With every step

I want to grow old with you
To hold your old hand and look back on our youth
I will be strong. Times I might not
I'm only human

I could push you away
I could say I don't want you no more
I could drive you right into the floor
And tell you are useless ;
Get used to it Lady
But I'm big in believing that baby,
You're bigger than that
It's respect for yourself that you lack
And success ; it's a mood that you chose
With every step

So, be free like a bumble bee
Spread wings like a bird
Squawk like a peacock and
Let your voice be heard , it's ok
I have no lock, key or a cage
You've got to want to stay

I won't push you away
I won't say I don't want you no more
I won't drive you right into the floor
But I'll tell you you're beautiful ;
Get on with it Lady,
Cause I'm big in believing that, Baby,
You're bigger than that
It's respect for yourself that you lack
And success ; it's a mood that you chose
With every step
So take step
It's just step by step

Withdrawal

I hadn’t realised I was down to my last few days’ supply of meds until I had a few capsules left and checked the box for the next blister pack, to find there wasn’t one. Luckily, my health centre takes online repeat prescription requests, which is way more convenient for me and thankfully, my doctor hasn’t yet insisted I come in for a check-up before she renews my prescription. However, I was a little late in picking up the prescription (it closes at 7, which is a push to get to in time after work, and me trying to wake up for work on a normal day is a struggle, never mind trying to get up early to go to the doctor’s before work). When I did get it, I realised I didn’t actually have the money to pay for it (yes, down to bad money management, but don’t get me started on the fact that Scotland gets their prescriptions for free, even though we all pay the same tax…). So a couple more days went by and I was med-free. I had a spare capsule for an emergency, so took that one a day or so in, to try and lessen the withdrawal effects, but I still felt the overwhelming tiredness and complete absence of energy that I tend to get without them (which is how I was feeling before I even took them). I thought things would settle down after taking them again for a few days, but I seem to be back in a slump. It may be coincidental that I’m having a low patch when I happen to have missed a few days’ meds; it may also be hormonal, but either way, I had been starting to feel a bit better in myself, a bit more motivated and positive, but have now regressed back to feeling anxious and tearful at the thought of going to work some days, barely motivated or focused while there, and absolutely drained of any energy when I get home.

The past few days I have been taking things out on Samson more than usual. I’ve been snappy, irritable and moody, or quiet, lacklustre and upset. Occasionally, a bit of both. He has been understanding and patient as usual, but occasionally when I have snapped, he has looked a little hurt and I have felt really bad. He is never snappy back, or mean to me (he really does have the patience of the proverbial saint), and when I have suggested that he can be, in retaliation, he always says that he’d rather ‘kill me with kindness’. However, I know that if I carry on being this way, it will wear him down, no matter how patient he is. More to the point, it’s not fair and it’s not very nice.

Yesterday, I started feeling lower and lower as the day went on. When the end of the day came, I was feeling anxious and didn't feel like going home. It was Bro-in-Law's birthday and he and Big Sis were going out for a meal so no-one would be home. I usually see that as a good thing, as I quite like having the place to myself now and then, but yesterday everything seemed bleak. Samson said I could stay at his, but I felt like I would probably just be miserable and would ruin his evening, aside from the fact that I am broke at the mo and he has been subbing me food all week. It felt a bit like I was taking liberties and I hate not being able to pay my way at the moment, it makes me feel even more inadequate than normal.

As we walked to the train station I started to cry a little, but was having to make some effort to stifle the sobs that seemed determined to escape. Samson was lovely and took me for something to eat and then I went back to his and we both just chilled, doing our own thing. I feel safer around him and more content when I am feeling low. Sometimes it can have the opposite effect if I am feeling particularly sensitive and he's not being especially perceptive. But for that evening, it made me feel a little better.

Cut to today and I got a sudden jolt to my stomach when I saw the girl at work Samson was seeing for a little while some time back. He'd told me she'd emailed him recently to tell him that she was being moved back to this floor, in case they bumped into each other. I wasn't thrilled by the news, but had forgotten she was starting this week until I saw her today. Typical, she would be sat down my end of the office rather than his. We don't know each other, but I know who she is and I suspect the gossip-machine has done its job of letting her know who I am. I know I am feeling insecure and so on, but seeing her around makes me feel very awkward and I've never been very good at dealing with boyfriends' pasts. My ego-centric side (what's left of it) prefers to think of myself as the one and only girl a boy I'm with has ever had eyes for, which is unrealistic I know, but something I find hard to shake off. It's just one more thing that makes me want to push Samson away, which I know is ridiculous. I am full of frustration, anger, hatred and bitterness lately and he unfortunately seems to bear the brunt of it, second only to my own self, which is steadily becoming eaten up with the emotions that I hold inside, rather than reveal to others the true ugliness of what lurks within.

We really do all have our demons. But as a good friend of mine (Dukus) said recently, "Holding a grudge is like letting someone live rent-free inside your head." Word. I need to kick out these squatters I let in.

Updates and Broken Records

OK, so what's been happening since I last wrote? I suppose not a whole lot of particular note, to be honest. Some points of note:

I bumped into The Ex on his birthday (he was just getting into his car, I was going to the doctor, which inconveniently is a few doors down from his house). I felt uncomfortable, we had a chat, he looked like he was welling up at one point, he asked me to keep in touch but I said I couldn't promise that I would, we hugged and I got the hell out of there. He doesn't have my number now, but I got an email from him the next day. I ignored it.

BFTP continues to stay in the past, with no word for a whole year. He did, however, steal the 'About Me' section from my MySpace page word for word (bar a few omissions/additions) to use on his own page, then promptly deleted me as a friend. Not impressed to say the least. And he still has my picnic blanket.

I got a message from NY Guy (after several insignificant ones over several months that I ignored) that I finally decided to reply to. Turns out he's still with the girl he had started seeing properly in December (I say that, I only have his word for it, I suppose what I mean is that he told me he had decided to make a proper go of it with her in December). Yes, they are still together. In fact, they married in June. Yeah, WHAT? I know, I was shocked too, partially because a year before that, me and him were still emotionally involved, actually I think we were still together? I was thrown so much at first I got whiplash, and I suppose it hurt knowing he had so completely moved on, in a very final way. It doesn't make it any less easier to deal with if you're the one who called things off. It just sucks how guys always seem to be the ones that get on with life and find happiness sooner than girls, but maybe that's only true superficially. Funny how things move on so fast. I have seen a picture of his wife (albeit only a small one of them together I found from a bit of Facebook stalking) and she seems nice. They looked very happy and my initial reaction was to smile and actually feel happy that he had moved on and found what he was looking for. I started to feel upset about it a few days later, but I think that's just mourning of the time spent on something that never materialised. He actually apologised for that fact when he got back in touch and told me I'm a "really awesome girl", but it still doesn't get rid of the feeling that he 'won'. I don't know why the natural tendency after a relationship breaks down is to (either intentionally or subconsciously) go into competitive mode with the ex, but it just seems to be how things are. I think I've just taken a emotional battering over a number of years (admittedly partly my fault) and I'm still getting over that. Despite the things I'm getting over, I am actually happy for him. I know we weren't right for each other, I wouldn't want to be with him now and he has clearly found someone he loves enough to marry, so everything has worked out for the best. We've exchanged the occasional brief message since then, but that's all. At least we don't hate each other. I don't think.

Things with Samson continue to go well. We will have been together 10 months in a week's time. It has gone by really quickly, which I hope is a good thing. He continues to be lovely, great fun, supportive, understanding and all the other things you want from a boyfriend. It feels weird just saying that things are good and not having anything bad to say. Relationship-wise, I am actually content. I always seem to downplay it, but I think that's just in-built caution from previous all-that-glitters-is-not-gold experience. He really is a wonderful person and a great partner. I've really enjoyed being with him and hope that continues.

Work-wise, things are pretty much the same. I've seen a few vacancies elsewhere and they look promising, so have applied for one and am going to apply for the other, but I can carry on here if nothing comes of it. I just thought I really should at least apply for the things that interest me and might challenge me more than this, or at least just broaden my experience. Plus, the place I've seen the vacancies are at my old uni, which I previously thought would be a longer commute than I would like, but Samson has recently moved just down the road from it, so if I can travel there to see him, I can travel there to work for better pay. Plus, because of recent transport improvements there are more options for getting to that part of London, so that will make life easier. This is, of course, all ifs and maybes for now, but are all things that I have to take into consideration.

Samson's new place is nice. The immediate area is not the nicest or the quietest, but it is vibrant and diverse and very close to the tube station. The flat is lots more homely than the previous one and he bought a new HD telly as his contribution. Lately I've felt more at home there that at my own place, but I know that's partly because I'm just dying to get out of there and live my own life, have my own responsibilities and my own space. I'm hoping next year will be the year, but as usual, my lack of good money management, combined with debts I'm still paying off (for about another 6 months) have hindered me in that respect. But as long as I start being more disciplined and save once I have paid things off, I'm hoping that this time next year I will have moved or at least be very much on my way to doing so. Hang on, have I mentioned this before.?

I've been out a few times with Samson's friends. The majority of his good friends he knows from uni (annoyingly for me, the same one The Ex went to, but thankfully a different campus and so no mutual friends there that I know of) so there is a big group of them that are quite close-knit. Thankfully they have all been very welcoming to me and have made me feel a part of the group, but at times I'm still conscious that they are his friends and that getting to know them very well would make things awkward if we ever broke up. Negative thinking I know, but once again, just caution from experiences past. It seems to be a year of birthday events and I have been to a couple which have been good fun and there are a couple more coming up.

The Mrs had a karaoke birthday, which was lots of fun, except we didn't get to sing much karaoke (the restaurant owners seemed to pick the songs according to their own preferences rather than any sort of fair and equal selection process). But we had a good night, Samson came too, we went to see their new place afterwards, then got a cab back to the Travelodge we were staying at. It was much better spending the night in Essex than trying to get home to London after midnight. We had a fry-up brekkie the next day in a nice café and then went to our respective homes to spend the rest of the day chilling out. Was lovely to see the Mrs and her boy, but these events are too few and far between nowadays.

That's about it, I suppose. Many things are still the same, but lots of things are also improving. Maybe slowly, maybe insignificantly, but improving nonetheless.

Bordeaux

I am so bored, I am Bordeaux. That doesn't even make sense, but it sounded funny. I'm bored, what can I say? So, the hamster wheel continues to turn and the cycle of rituals goes on in its never-ending loop. Work continues to be unfulfilling and non-stimulating, intellectually or creatively. Home feels less like a haven and the same old sights I have seen for 20+ years are tired. I need a change of scene but feel unable to make that happen. I know that one of my problems is to always aim too high and set unrealistic expectations, but don't seem able to make effective the small changes that would get me on the road there.

I remember having a conversation with my uni mates about perfectionism, where one of them said they had been told that one sign of perfectionism is setting unrealistic goals, so that if you can't accomplish them, you have something to blame it on.

I seem to be a definite practiser of self-sabotage of late. I've definitely found it a nigh-on impossible struggle to beat the Little Hater inside for a good few years now. But I've decided to try and look at the positives where I can, even if only in a small way initially, in the hope that the small observations will become more frequent occurrences until a snowball of looking on the bright side results in an avalanche of positivity.

OK, so work is boring. It's a repetitive, mundane, thankless job, which is making me feel more and more stupid by the day from lack of intellectual activity. But on the plus side, the people I work with are lovely. It's a steady job and the pay is certainly more than reasonable for the actual responsibility (or lack of it) that I have. The annual leave is decent, as well as time off at Christmas and Easter, the pension is good (even if it will probably be worth nothing in 40+ years, or whenever the government at that time let me retire), it would be easy enough to leave and come back to if I happened to start a family any time soon (but not too soon, obviously). It's in a nice location, the commute is relatively easy and not too long, there is a gym on campus with cheap membership (that I am ashamed to say I haven't used in months but am planning to re-visit this week) and lots of lovely museums and eateries nearby.

All of these things are positives, but they don't really help the fact that my mental capacity and ability seems to be regressing from lack of use. So, instead of complaining about it constantly and leaving my grey matter to rot, I've been thinking that I will just have to use my initiative and fill my life outside of work with creativity and mental stimulation to make up for this. I have been trying to read more. I haven't blogged or written any poetry for ages, but that's probably partly because even I was getting sick of my own negativity and low mood. But that's something to work on. When I have good things to write about, I will write.

I've decided to start learning to play guitar, although that isn't altogether successful so far since I'm relying on a sheet of guitar chords and my own natural 'ability' (not so good) to get anywhere. I may need to research the prospect of lessons, but for now I will have to be more disciplined and make use of youtube tutorials. Secondly, after being inspired by Etsy.com and my very own mama, I am going to learn how to knit or crochet. I'll probably try and do both at some point, but for now I think I might start with crochet. There is a knitting and sewing exhibition my Mum wants to go to in October and as I was checking out dates and prices for her, I noticed all the classes they were offering. A three-hour beginners How-To-Crochet class sounded perfect, so I am planning to go with her and attend that. I already have two different blanket designs that I would like to work on once I learn, not to mention loads of adorable baby booties and things I've found patterns for on Etsy, as well as a pattern for the cutest little Ewok figure (3 inches tall). I also still have a cross-stitch/embroidery project that I bought a few years ago now but still haven't started. It turned out to be of a more complicated level that I realised when I bought it on eBay, but should be do-able. All I need is a bit of discipline and determination, and actually making time to do it.

I might record a few more songs for youtube, just a few covers for fun, but we'll see. I also have more plans for sorting out my bedroom (a perpetual job). I am going to get rid of my current desk (which is much bigger than necessary) and get a smaller one, hopefully in a couple of weeks when I get paid. I need to have a final surge of eBay selling, to get rid of the remaining bags, shoes, bits of clothing and jewellery that I still haven't got around to selling (my last effort was rather rewarding, about £170+ before fees, etc. were deducted). Then a slight reshuffle of furniture in my room to make sure the space is used efficiently and I'll take my bed apart and put it together again to try and stop it from creaking (surprisingly noisy and embarrassing).

Maybe this academic year I will finally get around to taking an evening language course at work (one of the other perks I forgot to mention). I am thinking I will go for Spanish first, although I never seem to have enough money when September/October comes around, but I think this time I really need to make the effort. It's usually one evening a week for about 10-12 weeks. I find Spanish fairly easy to pick up pronunciation-wise and languages seem to be something I can relate to, so hopefully that will be satisfying challenging rather than frustratingly so.

I nearly forgot! I'm going a skydive on Friday. Yikes! I'm doing it with Big Sis and our friend to raise money for the NSPCC. So far I have raised about £485. Maybe that will trigger some sort of desire and motivation to do more exciting things, or maybe it will cure my short-sightedness as Bro-in-Law mentioned it did to some random (because of the air pressure on the eyes. Probably an urban legend but here's hoping…) Either way, it's something to look forward to and something to add to the (short) list of things I've done in my lifetime.

I know, it sounds like I am setting unrealistic goals again. But if I have several things I'd at least like to start, perhaps I will at least be able to start two or three.

Emotional Memory

You know those special mattresses, those memory foam ones? The ones that mould to the shape of your body and are therefore meant to give better support to your back? The kind of material that you can push your hand into and the impression stays for a sometime before slowly disappearing, although over time, the same impression made over and over may eventually fail to disappear completely? Quite a good concept for orthopaedics, not such a good one for the soul.

That’s what I have become lately. Perhaps I should say that I have gradually become so, as it seems to have intensified and worsened slowly, little by little, over a period of time. The past ten years have given me lots of different experiences and lessons, have spurred growth and development and seen both stagnation and change. While some has been positive, there have been many difficult realisations, painful experiences and emotional difficulties. A person once told me that being so open-hearted, emotional and empathetic (as he also was) meant that I had to be especially careful to protect my own heart while not completely losing the characteristics that make me who I am and how God created me to be. The same person unfortunately caused my heart enough damage and confusion of his own on more than one occasion. But the words were still true. Being an emotionally open person makes you vulnerable. On the positive side, you can form and maintain valued relationships with people, you have an element of empathy and understanding which can enable you to put yourself in another person’s shoes and try to see things from their perspective. On the negative side of things, your nature can be taken advantage of, your sensitivity can make you easily and deeply affected by difficult situations and the problems of others that you take on and become emotionally involved with can soon become as if they are your own.

Lately, I have found myself to be incredibly sensitive about things. Emotionally turbulent situations can easily upset me, maybe not in an obvious way, or even with immediate effect, but I find myself feeling upset about things that I am not directly (or even indirectly) involved in. Little things that happen that might ordinarily irritate or offend me to a shallow degree now seem to get to me much more, so that I take things personally and feel the consequences on my confidence for a much longer time than before. Being surrounded by lots of negativity might have previously been written off as a bad day and slept off, but now sends me into a low patch that can last for days or even weeks. Even being around arguments or harsh words sometimes makes me feel upset. When I’m feeling low because of one of these situations, I find it really hard to be around anyone. I feel uncomfortable, unconfident, feel reluctant to talk and unable to feign normality. I push people away, lash out, or just retreat into myself so that the thoughts and emotions swim round and around in my head and heart and stay there, simmering away and draining me of emotional energy.

A few things have happened in recent weeks that have knocked my confidence or triggered low feelings. The tendency for cliques at work was highlighted when I was left out of a social invitation initiated by a team colleague that the rest of my team were invited to. I made a mistake this week at work that caused at least two days of disruption and extra work for most of my department, not to mention colleagues in our IT department. I have experienced judgemental comments or experiences, not always directly aimed at me, that have upset and angered me more than I can ever remember them doing so. I have found myself reminded of painful past experiences by people who I once cared for deeply. Why these things still upset me, or affect me to the degree that they do, I don’t know. I know that my depression can affect my ability to be completely rational about things and not take things personally unnecessarily. I tend to brood on things and think over things that I am upset about and situations can feel insurmountable for a while. But even once I have managed to get over them, or at least the initial reaction, I find that the impression remains for some time, maybe not completely disappearing at all. The negative comments, the hurtful experiences, the expectations I can’t meet, the feelings of inadequacy - they all make their mark on my mind and heart and that mark remains. It may not remain indefinitely, or even for a significant amount of time, but just long enough that a subtle impression, a faint imprint is left as evidence of what was once there.

So, although the 'how-to' is unbeknownst to me as yet, the 'what' is clear. I need to thicken my skin, toughen that heart of mine and become negativity-repellent. Hmm, this one may take a while.

Friday Fill-In #42

And...here we go!

1. Anywhere beautiful, that has significance for me is my favorite place to travel to.
2. When I think about my childhood, I often remember how much fun everything was.
3. Loyalty, trust, sense of humour and shared interests/values makes for a good friend.
4. The wind in the trees, the rain on my skin, being out in this weather makes you feel alive.
5. The prospect of seeing the Mrs this weekend for SATC2 and a good old catch-up is so exciting!
6. My best friend knows most of the things that have made me who I am today.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to a few post-work drinks with my workmates, tomorrow my plans include song-service at church and then hopefully a peaceful afternoon and Sunday, I want to see if Samson still holds his power after having his hair cut (I'm pretty sure he will)!

Long Weekend

The weekend was quite a nice one. One part written off for sickness/rest, one part productive, one part lazy. After belated birthday drinks with my workmates on Thursday night, which resulted in a night later than I had planned, my cold returned on Friday night. I felt exhausted, hungry and really worn down. I had a nice long shower at about 8pm, deciding to try out my new in-shower hair removal cream on my underarms and legs. A few minutes after application, my underarms were stinging. Attempts to rinse didn’t go too well, since the cream is designed to stay on while you shower, so I used the sponge provided to remove it. What I didn’t realise was that the stinging was my skin reacting rather violently to the product, and as a result, the sponge which is meant to help remove the hair, also removed much of my skin with it. After finally getting the cream off, I finished showering, got dried and dressed, now not only feeling exhausted, sore-throated and sick, but in pain with throbbing, raw, weeping armpits. That’s the last time I bother with that.

Feeling rather miserable, I went to sleep at about 9pm, waking several times in the night and coughing plenty, waking eventually at about 9.30am feeling worse than the night before. I smothered my skin in antiseptic cream again and then stumbled downstairs for some breakfast, announcing that I wouldn’t be joining the rest of the family at church, but would be staying at home resting. I ate heartily, had some tea and then eventually watched the service at church via their online streaming, on Mum’s laptop, in bed. After the service, I went back to sleep, waking later rather grumpily when they arrived home.

When we eventually got home, it was about 9.30pm. I had some food and retreated to my room to watch some telly and have a rest. I have been getting fed up of travelling everywhere lately, to and from work, to the rents’ and back, to Samson’s, to work and then home again. Samson said he would come over on Sunday to see me, as I had a few things I wanted to get done in the morning anyway. I woke up at 9am, got up, made tea and had some breakfast, returned to bed for a bit and then got to work. I tidied up some long-overdue bits of stuff in my room, managing to fill two plastic bags full of rubbish and one big sack full of recycling (mainly paper). I vacuumed the floor and then started going through the boxes of jewellery and accessories I want to sell on eBay. I took photos of most of the items and sorted them into batches, also sorting out a box of packaging supplies like padded envelopes, bubble-wrap, tissue paper and so on. I was still covered in antiseptic cream, partly for my still-sore armpits and partly for my face which was covered with blemishes and not looking its best. My hair was scraped back and I was in trusty house clothes of leggings and a long slouchy t-shirt. I wasn't going to bother having a shower until I had finished most of the tidying, or I’d just get all hot, sweaty and dusty again anyway. At about 12.30, I was still mid-swing and was just about to start sorting through the huge mound of clothes in the corner, when Samson rang. I hadn’t heard from him all morning and assumed he was probably having a lie-in and would text me when he woke up or was on his way.

“Let me in, let me in!” he said, laughing.
“Haha, where are you?” I laughed back, thinking he was joking.
“Er…I’m outside.”
Slight pause. Oh, that’s why you asked me to let you in.
“I thought I’d surprise you!”
“Yeah...you did. My room is still a mess and so I am I! I’ll be down in a minute…”

Thanks to my newly-cut fringe, I could at least hide a little behind my hair, but still felt hugely embarrassed at my unwashed, unkempt appearance. I couldn’t even be annoyed that he’d turned up without warning, he was so enthusiastic at being there to surprise me and I thought it was sweet that he made the effort to get to me quite early, seeing as we live about an hour apart and neither of us are really morning people. “I won’t do anything,” he said, coming into my room and sitting in the corner, on the bed, “I’ll just be here, I won’t get in your way.” Luckily, the pre-World Cup England friendly against Japan was on telly, so he sat there watching that, while I pottered around getting stuff done. I still have loads to do, but taking photos of the 100+ items of jewellery, plus several bags, pairs of shoes and items of clothing, was the slog I wanted to get out of the way. We chilled in the afternoon, ordered a curry for dinner and watched some Quantum Leap (he has all 5 series on DVD and we are going through them – now on series 2, disc 2).

Monday morning, I woke up with a splitting headache. We chilled in bed for a bit, then I made us cups of tea and a sausage sandwich each for brunch. Samson channel surfed on telly, while I tried to fight against the throbbing pain and get my stuff together. Late afternoon we set off, stopping on the way to get snacks, food for dinner and dessert. We arrived home to an empty flat, had a sandwich and cuppa, put some washing on, watched some telly, ironed my dress for work, did a bit of washing up, I had a shower, had a quick chat with his housemates who returned from a weekend away, had dinner, then retreated to bed for a bit more Quantum Leap, before drifting off to sleep. All very domestic and not necessarily exciting, but all very, very lovely.

Friday Fill-In #41

And...here we go!

1. Finger food, of all kinds -- the best food to take on a picnic.
2. Summer better not just be last weekend's mini heat wave.
3. I can never seem to find really comfortable flip flops.
4. To love someone is a risky business.
5. It's been just under a year since I had a long hike.
6. When I crave food, it's usually because I need it, or am getting the PM munchies.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to resting my weary bones, tomorrow my plans include getting better and Sunday, I want to sort out my life...slightly ambitious for one day!

Spin Cycle

I seem to have been stuck in a very slow spin cycle for as long as I can remember, including with my blog-writing, which feels to now be almost solely an outlet for moaning about life and how there are lots of things I am unhappy with, but feel unable to change. Round and round I go, feeling washed-out and fuzzy-headed, not knowing when it will end. The mini heat-wave had perked up my sensibilities for a day or two, but all of a sudden I am back down to good old reality with a bump.

Yesterday after work, I went with Samson to buy his brother a 30th birthday present. He already knew pretty much what he wanted to buy, so we managed to get there and buy it relatively quickly. There was a shop I wanted to take a quick look into, so after we got the present, he came along. I was feeling OK when we set off from work, if a tiny bit irritable, but by the time we had got to the shop I wanted to look in, I was just feeling miserable. I didn’t feel like going home, but I didn’t have anything else to do and shouldn’t really be spending any more money, so when we got to the tube station to go home, I said that I felt like wandering aimlessly for a while and would see him tomorrow. Samson said he would keep me company and came with me for a wander, but it sort of made me feel temporarily worse because I didn’t really want him to be around to see me acting quiet and odd, wandering the streets like some sort of hobo. We walked the length of Regent Street, looking in shop windows, him making little comments here and there, while I slouched along next to him in virtual silence. After a while, he suggested us getting something to eat, as his treat. I started feeling bad again and pretended I wasn’t really hungry, but told him I don’t want him to pay for me. Lately it seems like he is always paying for my drinks or food if we go out, not to mention the pricey birthday presents he got me and the birthday dinner he paid for. I’m not used to it and keep expecting that there will be a time of pay-back, when all the nice things get thrown back in my face. Aside from that, him paying for me reminds me of the fact that financially I am in the s**t and am trapped by a lack of options because of it.

I desperately want to move out of where I am and can’t afford to. I don’t always feel completely comfortable at home and feel like I am living in someone else’s house instead of it being an equal three-way split. I know for a fact that having my own space, independence and responsibility would significantly improve my quality of life at the moment, but there is very little I can do about it until I have any money left at the end of each month to save towards one month’s rent and deposit. Because I have very little cash after paying my bills, I can’t even get out much to see films, or have dinner, or go to fun places at the weekend to make up for it, because it all costs money. So, stupidly, when I feel down, I either spend what little money I have (and quite often don’t have) on clothes or other ‘stuff’ I probably don't need, in the hope of cheering myself up. I feel the initial buzz of making a purchase, the initial pleasure when I try on or first wear garments I have bought and really like, but soon feel incredibly low again when I realise I’ve spent more than I should have done. I then end up scrimping on food out of necessity and feel even lower when I don’t have enough energy from not eating as well as I should. It’s a cycle that is both destructive, detrimental and depressive. I also tend to pick at my skin when I feel anxious or negative about myself, which then also makes me feel worse as I survey the damage on my face where I have picked and squeezed at blemishes unnecessarily, making them worse and creating new ones in the process. Round and round I go until I don’t feel good about anything and it’s hard to pull myself back up into any kind of positivity.

Very few people know about how much of a constant struggle it is for me day to day and even morning to evening. I can start off feeling bright and breezy when I wake, but it is very rare nowadays that such a frame of mind lasts the day. Something will trigger a feeling of upset, or remind me of one of the problems I have pushed to the back of my mind and *BAM* - on the verge of tears again. It’s hard to explain this to anyone without telling them my deepest anxieties and fears, my faults, my disappointments. It’s too personal to just share with anyone and pride plays a factor in that too. So people continue on thinking things are OK, while I continue on in my own desperate unhappiness. I feel less and less able to cope with the pressure of getting ‘better’. My family don’t fully understand why I have been suffering from depression and therefore probably can’t see any reason why I shouldn’t be better. At work, the Occupational Health report stated it would be reasonable to expect my attendance to improve, which isn’t completely untrue, but they seem to think that just because I am taking medication, my depression should automatically disappear, even if gradually. All it has done is enable me to function normally enough to be able to better face the problems causing my depression. It doesn’t solve those problems. And since I can’t solve them myself completely, at least not for now, I am stuck with the constant see-saw of emotions of trying to be positive about the negatives, while constantly being reminded of what the negatives are, because they are completely embedded in my everyday life.

While we continued to wander aimlessly around, Samson eventually convinced me to go with him for a drink. We found a small pub and sat down with a drink each. I felt numb and rather unable to talk much. He kept checking I was OK, but I didn’t really know what to say to him. After a while, I just felt so low that I was unable to stop a tear or two falling from the corner of my eye. Samson noticed and started to ask what was wrong more intently. I had felt gradually more and more low all evening and wanted to explain, didn’t really know where to start. “Do you just feel rubbish?” he asked, which is my usual description when feeling low. I nodded, but it took me a little why to even begin to tell him why. I explained about my lack of money: that it makes me feel awkward when he pays for things for me, that it means I am currently unable to move out, that it makes me feel low and helpless, that it means the social/fun things I can do are limited, that I end up shopping when I feel down which makes me feel worse because I end up spending money I shouldn’t, that I feel pressure to be better now because I am taking medication, despite the fact that most of the things that have got me down haven’t changed significantly enough to impact my frame of mind in a positive way.

“I wish I was a richer man,” he said after I’d talked a while. “But it’s not your problem,” I responded, not really understanding why he would want to help me solve a problem that is my own creation and nothing to do with him. It’s hard to change your perspective to that of being part of a proper team, rather than the kind of one-way team I’ve been used to, where I had their back, but when it came to me, I was on my own. It helped talking to him and eventually we left, popping into a couple more shops before heading home, me being extremely amused by his uninhibited glee at the huge sci-fi section in the four-floor book shop we went into. The thing is, I can talk to him about me feeling down, but there’s nothing he can really do. He can’t magically increase my salary or decrease my bills. I feel perked up for a while for getting things off my chest, but after that has worn off I have to face that my situation hasn’t changed and I have to find some way to cope with my situation until it gets significantly better, which thankfully it should do, but not for at least a year. I shouldn’t downplay how much him being there means to me. Although he can’t really do much about my problems directly, his company and his optimism, his patience, his way of making me laugh by being silly and not being put off when I am initially unresponsive and quiet, are so important to me. I’ve never met someone whose patience seems so unending, who is content with just being himself, who doesn’t change how he is even when I am being awkward and standoffish.

Despite all the things that have happened in the past two years, if I had to go through them just to get to this point with Samson, then I don’t regret them for a second, even though they have been difficult, confusing, upsetting. My only regret is that I am still in a situation where my relationship is the main thing bringing me any sense of happiness. It makes me uncomfortable because I want to be able to feel content within myself, happy with my situation outside of my love life as well as within it. Knowing how much hurt and emotional turmoil relationships have caused me in the past 4 years, even when I’ve not been in one, experiencing happiness that stems almost completely from the presence of another person in my life feels like an extremely precarious position to be in. I know from both NY Guy and BFTP just how quickly such situations can be pulled from underneath you, without warning or seemingly any cause from my own behaviour. I’m still wary of allowing myself to feel completely safe in another person’s care, at mercy of their feelings, which can seemingly change like the direction of the wind. Having personal happiness wrapped up in another person feels a bit like gambling a year’s pay on the outside chance in the Grand National, or building a house on the edge of a cliff that is steadily being eroded by the elements. In time, I’m sure I will feel less guarded about this, but having other things in life that I can rely on will be necessary to make that happen.

No Sickness Allowed

I know I’ve not been looking after myself as well as I could and should do, lately. I think it’s caused in equal parts by laziness, low self-esteem, lack of self-discipline and a lack of cash. I’ve had about three colds in the last couple of months and I’m still trying to get rid of a slightly sore throat and dry cough that I can’t seem to kick. I’ve also been getting regular headaches/migraines, often because I haven’t been eating well enough.

Anyway, the odd day off sick here and there triggered another meeting with HR following an Occupational Health assessment (I think I mentioned this before). The meeting was scheduled with my supervisor (Flame-Grilled) and an HR rep. Irony of ironies, when meeting day came, Flame-Grilled was off sick. It was just as well, as I had realised I should probably get a union rep to attend with me, but hadn’t been able to arrange for someone in time. The meeting was rescheduled. I was feeling quite anxious about it. Miss T is my union rep and was going to come with me. We had a meeting to give her the back-story and she told me that I should prepare myself for a formal warning, as a worst-case scenario. The day of the meeting arrived and about 10 minutes before it was due to start, Flame-Grilled emailed to say it would have to be postponed again. Miss T asked if there was a reason why, but apparently it was nothing to do with our meeting. Flame-Grilled and LBB (his supervisor) then went off for a meeting and I wondered if there was something going on, as he had been off sick himself for a number of days within a short space of time.

The meeting was rescheduled again. I was starting to get fed up and wanting to just get it out of the way. It was making me feel anxious, having it looming over me and not knowing what the purpose of it was, or what the potential outcome would be. When the meeting rolled round for the third time, Flame-Grilled had already been off sick for a couple of days and I wondered if the meeting would be postponed once more. This time, LBB told me that Flame-Grilled wouldn’t be in, so he would be conducting the meeting instead.

I was feeling only slightly anxious, but the meeting was quick. Although I’d had a few recent incidences of sickness, my overall ‘score’ for the past year as a whole had actually reduced, probably thanks to the meeting being rescheduled to nearly a month later than it was meant to be. [They use some stupid index to decide on whether you’ve had too much time off sick. Bizarrely, my few days here and there over the course of a year made my score something ridiculous like 1200 – they start to take notice when it goes above about 300 – and apparently I would have had a much, much lower score had I just had 30 days off in one go. Hmm, boggles the mind, have made a mental note for next time, lol.]
They told me they were going to keep my attendance under review for another 3 months, during which time they would expect me to not have any time off sick. So woe betide if my pathetic immune system doesn’t do its alleged job. I cannot be sick/catch a cold/have a bad migraine or anything else that would cause an inability to come to work for the next 3 months. I’m sure the added pressure of knowing this won’t necessarily help with helping me to stay better and it’s not necessarily the easiest thing to be told you can’t have an off day when you have depression. But on the other hand, it puts a little bit of positive pressure on me to stay motivated, to pull myself out of bed when I’m feeling a bit rubbish and just get on with things. I suppose it also gives me something to aim towards that might make me feel a little bit more confident and secure in my job. Or it could tip me over the edge. Who knows?! Haha.

Birthday Weekend

This mini heat-wave we’ve been having rocks and sucks. Rocks, because it’s about bloomin’ time we had some hot weather and all-day sunshine, but sucks because we have to be at work while it happens! I should be out at the park, laid on the grass, reading under the warmth of the sun!

The weekend was nice. I had Friday booked off work and had an appointment to get my hair cut at 10.15. It has been in real dire need to some trimmage, as the abundance of split ends was really adding to the straggly bush woman look I’ve been rocking. My hairdresser is really nice, my sister got her hair cut recently and he told her he had got married to his (male) partner in December, which he was very chatty about. He also loves acting and theatre and seems to do quite a lot of that on the side, although I think he would rather it was the other way round, with the hairdressing being on the side and the drama taking the main stage (literally). He told me he would be using every spare moment of the holiday weekend to rehearse for his latest project – a double bill of two short Strindberg plays which his partner was directing, which he had both translated from the Swedish and was acting in, which they had funded themselves. It was going to be showing at quite a well-known upcoming off-West End theatre in East London. We had a good chat about it and when my hair was finished, I wished him all the best and he gave me a flyer. I’m hoping to try and catch a performance, but am not sure if I’ll be able to convince Samson to come with me – not sure it’s his thing.

After the hairdressers, I then went to the hospital for a blood test, despite feeling a little weak from not having had breakfast and the fact that I’m not very keen on blood tests generally (due to my tendency to faint). I had a nice bus ride in the sun, had only two people ahead of me in the blood test queue, had a nice nurse who made me laugh (“Are you OK?” she asked for the second time. “Yes,” I answered, pausing before saying, “I don’t like blood tests.” “Yes,” she answered, “You’ve got that face.”), managed to survive and maintain consciousness and got back home by lunch time. Yay! I painted my toenails in the afternoon, randomly tried out some sparkly eye shadow and got ready rather slowly, before going to the rents’ in the evening and having a lovely home-cooked dinner.

On Saturday, our friends came over to the rents’ for home church (our monthly small group meeting) but there were only three adults and the three children in addition to my fam. I had been dreading seeing loads of people for some reason and wasn’t really keen on the idea of any fuss over my birthday, but because it was such a small group, it ended up being a really nice day. I spent lots of time with the kids as usual and after our Bible discussion, we had a nice simple lunch together. The obligatory birthday cake was rolled out after our meal, with one big candle shaped as a 2 and eight small single candles next to it, which made me laugh. The number candle was left over from my 26^th birthday, so the only other alterative was to turn the 6 upside-down and age me by one year – hmm, glad they didn’t go for that!

After chocolate cake and ice-cream, there was vague mention of going to the park. It was in the high twenties outside and had been gloriously sunny all day, so it seemed criminal to waste it. Of course, as soon as the kids even heard this suggestion, they already had their shoes on, but it was nearly an hour before the adults had caught up and were ready to go. We drove down to the park and looked for a nice spot to settle, armed with picnic blankets and a foldable chair for Dad. We settled near a big tree, far enough out that we were still in the sun, but were nearby shade should anyone need it. It was late afternoon and was already breezy, so why anyone would want to stay out of the sun is beyond me. Big C had made me promise that she could race me, which I had gamely agreed to, despite knowing that sprinting is not my strong point, especially in a knee-length tea dress and sandals. We raced to a big tree nearby and back, raced again with Little C and Big Sis and then span around, swinging to younger kids in circles and leaning back at arm’s length while holding hands with Big C. I felt worn out. After a while, we sat down with the adults, playing hand-clapping games I vaguely remembered from school and learning some new ones. I showed them how to make daisy chains and Little C was soon crowned with a daisy chain tiara and Big C was adorned with a necklace and bracelet. After a while, it started to get quite cool in the breeze and most of us hadn’t brought jackets with us (the sheer folly!). We decided to have a quick prayer as Sabbath drew to a close, so I shared a reading from my devotional and we had a quick prayer to thank God for such a lovely day. I thanked them for spending my birthday with me and packed up the blankets and walked back to the cars to return home.

After a cup of tea and a biscuit or two, Big Sis and I got changed and ready to go home and we all left, the kids and their parents getting a lift in Mum’s car with us. I arrived home, tried to make my room look presentable and opened the cards I had received by post and from work, that I had decided to leave at home and save for the evening to open. A card from my Auntie Betty (without fail, she sends one every year and it is always the first card to arrive), one from Bigger Sis (who sends me funny cards she knows my sick sense of humour will appreciate), one from The Mrs with a lovely message as always, one from Good Time Girl (GTG for short, Samson’s team-mate and a lovely girl I have made friends with), one from Lolly (that I opened the Thursday before when she gave it to me, on her instruction!), one from Big Sis and Bro-in-Law, one from Mum and Dad (and an additional mini one from Dad), and finally, one from my work mates, which was a surprise firstly since I don’t know how they knew about my birthday, and secondly since they gave me a £20 H&M voucher which rocked my socks (I love shopping and I love H&M – it’s a present made in heaven).

Later on, Samson arrived. He wished me a happy birthday and gave me card, then gave me each of his three presents one by one. Each was thoughtful and based on things I mentioned or he knew I liked. I was really taken aback by how many things he had made a mental note of. First was the novel Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts, which I mentioned wanting to read to him in passing ages ago (and was surprised he even noticed). Second was True Blood season 2 on DVD because he knows I liked season 1 and I’d told him I hadn’t managed to catch much of the second series. Third (and this one he seemed nervous about) was the only one that was wrapped…I opened it slowly and was pleasantly shocked to discover an iPod Touch! I was a little bit overwhelmed to be honest. I was already happy with the book and DVD, seeing as they were both things I had vaguely mentioned liking and Samson had taken note of. That was the most important thing, that he had listened and remembered things I liked, he’d taken notice and bought me something specific to me, rather than something generic, or worse still something I didn’t even like and had never even given an inkling of liking (“I bought you this death metal CD box set – it’s meant to be really good”). It was lovely, I was very impressed.

On Sunday afternoon, we went to his. It was another gorgeous day, so we dropped our stuff at home and headed to the park, armed with ice-creams and cold drinks. We lay there talking, catching some rays until it started to get a little bit cooler a couple of hours later. We walked through the park and down the high street, where there are lots of various restaurants. We ended up going to a fancy Thai place, where you had to remove your shoes and sit at tables inset into the floor. The décor was lovely, the staff very pleasant and the food was delicious. The company was sterling as ever, of course, but the atmosphere was spoiled slightly by the couples either side of us – one who were ghetto-tastic (the man was wearing a wifebeater and low-slung jeans, complete with boxer shorts poking out of the top of them), the other who didn’t eat their whole chickens and complained because they were ‘too hairy’ and then tried to get a discount. “I’m sorry,” muttered Samson under his breath, “I did try and take you to a classy establishment,” he said and rolled his eyes. I was cracking up. It was still lovely. Eventually we ambled home and chilled out. It had been a nice, relaxed weekend – gorgeous weather, wonderful company and nice memories.

Random Stuff.

So, it’s the warmest day of the year so far. You wouldn’t know it. It’s overcast and extremely dreary-looking outside. Come on Summer, don’t be shy! Oi, I said don’t be shy, dammit!!!

Things are rather boredom-inducing at the mojo. Work is a bit quiet – meaning the days tend to drag a little – and is generally not especially stimulating or challenging. I would say “at least it pays the bills,” but due to some extremely lean months what with Big Sis being out of work and my usual lack of control when it comes to spending, it has barely done even that. A random enquiry last month led to the discovery that the loan I thought would be paid off this summer, won’t in fact be paid off till next summer. A slight set-back (and an understatement).

It’s my birthday on Saturday and I can’t afford to celebrate! Pants, really. I think Samson is coming over on Saturday at least, we’ll probably just chill and then he said he’d take me out for dinner on Sunday. The weather is at least meant to be hot over the weekend, but if it’s as dreary and sunshine-devoid as today, then I’d rather it was cool, to be honest. I have taken tomorrow off work, mainly to get my hair cut (I’m in desperate need, I am rocking the crazy bush woman look, but for real - it ain’t pretty). Then lucky ol’ me has to go to the hospital for a blood test afterwards (please Lord, help me not to faint while all on my own), before returning home to do a spot of tidying up and putting stuff up for sale on eBay (as I am always saying I will do, but never actually get around to). This time I will do it. I have three boxes of stuff piled up (and that’s not even all of it) and my camera ready to take photos of everything. I want to have listed the complete contents of at least one of the boxes (which may not sound a lot, but most of the items are small things like jewellery) by Friday late afternoon. Big Sis didn’t realise what I was doing and after looking through the bowl full of rings I currently have on top of the boxes yesterday, asked, “Are you going to open a shop?” Actually, she’s not far wrong.

The following weekend is a three-day one, thanks to the bank holiday, so I may try and have a mini belated celebration then. Lolly was thinking of a reload on her 30^th, as when we went out for that she had so much work stress on her mind she didn’t enjoy herself as much as she should have. I quite like the idea of doing something just after my birthday, as there will be less pressure then for everything to go right. I don’t know why, but sometimes having birthday plans can be more stressful than enjoyable.

Samson has been very sweet, asking what I want to do and not giving up, despite me giving him such helpful answers as, “dunno,” and “whatever.” Today, he was making suggestions about where we could go and I suddenly started to feel uncomfortable and upset. A quick self-evaluation gave me the realisation that I don’t like or trust being told about what someone wants to do or is going to do. I’ve heard such pledges way too many times previously, and muggins here, with my some-time unquenchable desire to believe the good in people and my stupidly large supply of second chances, allowed myself to be let down so often that now I don’t feel able to recognise a reliable person, never mind trust anything they say with the same unwavering faith as I used to. Quite why all this makes me uncomfortable with making dinner plans isn’t completely clear to me, but if I fully understood all the reasons behind my issues and how to get over them, I wouldn’t be this f***ed up in the first place.

Speaking of f***ed up, I bumped into The Ex recently. Haha, like that association? Maybe I’ll save that for another post…