How did I get so tired? PART 1

Maybe it was all the running and hiding I have had to do? All the times I had to cope and survive on autopilot? Maybe it was all things that Right from the start my life was not destined to be easy.

I was abused at such a young age. 3yrs old. Something like that. I know it could have only happened around that time because that was when my half brother moved in with us and there was a short time between him moving in there and us moving from a flat into a house. I was 3 or 4yrs old. I was keen to start school, I loved to learn. I knew I had a new half brother and sister to learn to live with. I wanted them to like me. I knew my dad came and went. I didn't know him very well. I knew my mum's parents best of all. They were my security blanket.

One of my first memories was of my mum telling me I had to be a big girl and get myself up and dressed in the mornings. I did that one morning and I undid the front door and walked to my grandparent's flat, a block of flats between us. Their door was always open. ALWAYS. I sat myself at the table and they exchanged looks. Asked me if I was hungry because I was looking hungrily at my grandfather's plate of porridge, an island of sugar surrounded by cool creamy milk. Would I like some? YES PLEASE!!! A small plate of porridge soon appeared on the table. My grandmother in the kitchen, trying to sound casual as she asked me if my mum knew where I was. I don't remember my reply. I do remember the sound of the front door opening in a hurry and me diving under the table, telling them not to say anything. I was scared. Up until then I think I felt very proud of myself. Mum's voice was trembling and she flopped onto the sofa crying that I was missing. I felt guilty and surprised but desperate not to be found out. I cowered under the table. My granddad, I could see his face and he was gesturing under the table. Nan was trying to be a bit more canny. Let her feel scared for a minute or two. Granddad was keen to let her know and I was tugging at his trouser leg, desperate to stay hidden. Then it was all out in the open and with a warning to mum, about staying calm, from my grandmother, I sneaked out from under the table. I got the biggest hug and stern words to not do that again. I am pretty sure I was more concerned about my porridge.

I think that was before these two older children arrived. They seemed  practically grown up to me. Things get blurry after this. A blur of my dad being there, of arguing, of this new older sister, singing and dancing and me joining in. The boy, surly, aggressive and cold. He seemed to hate me to my marrow. I was glad of company though. I wanted to follow him around. I wanted to play with his cars and toy soldiers. I remember one day we were at the grandparent's flat for tea and he complained that I copied every single thing he did. He rolled a slice of ham in his leaf of lettuce and had a melt down when I copied him. I didn't understand. What was so bad about that?! I thought it would let him know I liked him. They all fussed over him and told me off. They seemed to know him and he them and  I wasn't that keen on that.

I would follow him around at the park outside our block of flats. There was a little hut made of bricks and logs on the roof. He would lift me up there and I would watch him whittle sticks with his little pen knife. Nothing I said got a warm response. He hated me, like I said, to the marrow. It was cold and disturbing. His exaggerated cutting of the wood as he looked me in the eye was horrifying but I couldn't make sense of it like I can now. I only had the pleas in my mind of please like me, please let's have fun together, let me join in. He was 9yrs older than me. I seemed to be left with him a lot. He would leave me stranded on the roof of the hut. He would keenly offer to play hide and seek but then I would look for a long time, only to find he had sneaked off. He would test me in every way. He would shout out sums and laugh when I got them wrong. He made me feel small. He would shut me in the bottom of the sofa bed in the front room. He would twist my arm around my back until I said submit. He would rip heads from my doll's bodies and he let me know just how powerful he was at every opportunity.

The first abuse I remember is when he was left to babysit whist my new sister and my parents went out drinking. The promise of a game of something was his favourite trick. He knew I was desperate for a playmate. I remember him opening out the sofa bed and him climbing on me and my head was under his chest. I protested and tried to tell him I couldn't breathe but he didn't notice. I am pretty sure I passed out. I was scared and upset and he just told me to go to bed.

After that I begged them not to leave me with him.

We moved house. It happened there too. He was always cruel and I always fell for his promise of a game. Seems so pathetic now. Seems so stupid of me.

I got so fed up with him using me and leaving me with this disgusting patch of goo in the bed. He would put his hand over my mouth and nose, I think he liked the idea of me suffocating. I dreaded him being left to babysit. My pleas were not heard. I warned him that last time. I told him I would tell what he was doing and he LAUGHED AT ME! He said 'GO ON THEN!' I am not sure if that was what he actually wanted, maybe he thought that would make me think it was so trivial it wasn't worthy of a mention. Whatever he thought, I don't think he really believed I would tell. I did though.

My mum's friend was there with her in the living room and upstairs my new brother did something to annoy me. Just something usual, general bullying but I marched downstairs and told my mum that he kept 'Getting on top of me' and then, all hell broke loose!

There was shock and disbelief. I had to explain what had been going on  and then the police came and they asked me questions and he admitted that he had done that last night BUT when I said he had done it before, he denied that. They were shocked because I was about 5yrs old or so by then and it was a long time since we had lived in the flat but they reeled when I said it had DEFINITELY happened there.

I had to be examined by the police doctor and though they now deny it, I had my fingerprints taken and I felt like I had done something pretty terrible, In all honesty, I  thought he would get a telling off and that would be that. No. Next thing I know he is moving back to where he came from, his dad. Everything changed. His friend approached me one day in the street and asked me why I had said those things. I felt I was surely to blame. Mum said that it wasn't but she didn't tell me in a nice way, she spat it at me. 'Don't think he is moving because of you!'

Over the years I had to look at my grandmother with his photo peeping out from over her shoulder. They spoke about him like he had just chosen to live with his dad. I was regularly updated on his progress, asked to speak to him on the phone and eventually to 'forgive' him in line with my Catholic faith. He even came for a holiday one summer and I was given a heart wrenching account of his going away again. He had been begging to stay, to be given another chance and I was made to feel bad for not allowing him to move back in. All my life mum and my new sister spoke about him and his life as if I didn't matter. How he joined the army. How well he was climbing the ranks. How he had got married. How he had two daughters now. How he got divorced. How he remarried. How he now has a son. How he has heart problems. How he is camping out in the woods. How loved he is by my new sister. If I got upset, it was ME bringing ALL THAT back up again. And still it goes on, even today. My feelings are no important. My mum swings from feeling angry with him and disgusted. How her psychiatrist thinks she should forget he ever existed, because he is the personality type that would go on to abuse again (and yes, I have reported him to social services) to how she lost her son and wanting me to forgive her and ease her burden of guilt. My new sister is bitter towards me about him. She can't wait to talk about him to me and about her family, the one she left behind. Her dad died but her step mother lives on. They are all messed up. So am I.

That's the thing about abuse. Not only do you have to deal with your own emotions and learn ways to cope, you also have to deal with the reactions of those closest to you.  They ask you to ease their guilt, comfort them, never blame them. They want the nitty gritty details of what happened. They want to know about how he dressed me up in my mum's clothes and how he used pornography and that I would need to play a part in his scenes. They want to know that so they can believe it but then they can trivialise it as a game that went wrong. They scorn the monsters they see on the news, the Jimmy Savile's and the pervs in the news but when it comes to him, he is on another level, they can't make these connections.

All in all I didn't turn out too badly. I lived. I made it through. I can still be kind and caring towards others. I am not bitter. At least I do try not to be. I am not even after his blood. It sounds like he is getting what he deserves out of life. It's catching him up. Some,like Savile ,don't even get that!

So, I tried a few years ago when I WAS in angry mode, to see if I could get some justice for the situation. It felt at the time like he had lived his life how he pleased with all my family loving him and begrudging me. I was in therapy, raking things over. I wanted to deal with it. All proper. Well, I got in touch with the police who told me A) No record of it and B) My parents dropped the charges and that was why there was no record of it. When I told them I remembered my fingerprints were taken they told me that didn't happen! Very 'sensitive' of them.

No though, guess what? I am JUST BLOODY TIRED. Tired of having to HIDE this SHAMEFUL SECRET. I can't go and shout out that this has happened to me. Half of my family don't know, hardly any of my dad's family know. I am still having to answer people when they ask how he is. I am still living in a shadow. I am still haunted by him and fear his very mention but also expect it from those I am closest to.

What can I do with the last nugget this abuser offered? That my own dad 'interfered' with him?! Would he lie? Why yes because I was about to tell everyone at his second wedding! Can I dismiss it as ridiculous. No, I can't and I can't because I was abused by my half brother and if he could do that, anyone could do that and they don't have labels on them. They are loving sons and grandson. They are funny, charming and endearing. They are 'normal' in the eyes of those they want to appear normal in. So, I don't say a thing and each time my dad's brother asks me how this low life scum is. I feel like I have been stabbed in the heart and try to give some sort of answer that will make him not ask me again. 'He's fine but we don't have much to do with him' . I get this when people ask me if I have brothers and sister too. It's horrible. Just awful and I know that they will always ask, forever and I just have to live with it. Deal with it. Get on with it.

Someone told me not to be bitter as it doesn't suit me. So, I will just a be good little girl. Like ALWAYS.

To be continued.

More art therapy

These are unfinished but I am sick of them now!

Yes! I know I am hard on myself and for self imposed homework I am going to challenge these statements and beliefs. 

I am not falling to pieces. These are words I have in my head every day. Business as usual in the beating self up factory! 

They need to be gone. 

Art therapy!

I have some recent work to add. Art therapy is wonderful! You can go to the murky depths, revisit your childish scribbles and pour your emotions out safely. I often surprise myself with how I am really feeling on the inside. It can be good to get in touch with it. That said, it can leave you feeling a bit like a ploughed  field having brought it all up and where can you put it back inside? Sharing it can be frustrating if you don't feel that person 'gets it' or if you find it hard for any amount of understanding to be enough. That's nothing strange or unusual after going through trauma. I like to do art therapy so that I can unlock things and learn about what I need. 

Mother

Sometimes I get a glimpse of you and I see your inner strength, I see how you have suffered, your torture, your pain. I see an intelligence, you don't believe is there. A free spirit. I see you strive for a future. I see behind the mask. You win my support. You have my attention. I want to give it. I feel connection and bond but it is fuzzy. I am wary. I see edges. I feel fear as I look to the horizon. I am scared this will be over and this lucid moment will be lost in my anger and disgust as another you emerges. Like clockwork. The childish pushing of boundaries. A needle poking sharply into raw emotion! Is it spite? A need for a reaction? My coping mechanisms kick in. Shut down. I'm out of here! I won't let you dance on me, all broken inside. A slip of the tongue. A tangled memory brought back into being, for me, they are attached to others. The shard leaves your mouth and your eyes give you away. I'm here feeling the splinters. Your brain is oddly wired and you know no shame or responsibility. I long for what I was cheated of, fruitlessly. A bitter reality. I am alone. I hope I am not too affected. I hope it doesn't ruin my home. My soul. I hang on and, sometimes I see the real you.

Love

I love my husband and he loves me. I am pretty sure of that. He isn't romantic, he doesn't bring me flowers or whisper sweet nothing's, stare at the moon and stars with me but, he never complains. He doesn't find fault with me, nothing I do seems to annoy him, he is happy to cook, clean, go to the shop, take the children to school. He accepts me as I am and reminds me not to refer to myself as fat or lazy! He is opinionated and strong willed, capable of skilful manipulation and there are times when we stubbornly disagree with each other. All the things I found annoying in previous relationships, the petty things like middle of the toothpaste squeezing and slurping of tea, I seem to be able to tolerate more because he is he. I don't know why we work. We are quite an odd couple. He won me with his understanding and supportive nature. His sense humour. He wants me to fly and be all I can be. It's not all smooth and easy going but, right when I think I can't see how we can solve our stubborn differences, he makes me want to try again. He is old and set in his ways, he likes to be in control. He's a vulnerable child afraid of being wrong behind his facade. He is always trying to get everything done, so he can have what he feels is his prize, me. He forgets to stop and smell the roses he forgets he is denying me. A workaholic. Why does it feel like I just swallowed a stone? Maybe I should be the one showing him how? Yes! Kerplunk! The penny dropped. It has to come from me. 

The Diary

The Diary

 

The Diary

I plan on writing in here as I would a diary. That said, it might not be every day, every week or regular at all. I am breaking free from making promises to myself that I can't keep. I don't know how I will be feeling from one day to the next. I am here when I am here. No more and no less. I will add the latest to the top of the page.

Exhaustion

You can't explain the overwhelming tiredness that smothers you. Today I have been wondering about how I go about things. It doesn't make any sense. I was hoping to get a few small jobs done. Only changing the beds, vacuuming and dusting upstairs. Not much. So, I rise from the sofa after a refreshing cup of tea, feeling like I can do all that and more. By the time I get to the bottom of the stairs, I am wondering. I feel weaker than I expected once I stand and walk. Fine, I can beat this! I can do a few simple every day tasks. I get to the top of the stairs with the pile of washing I grabbed on the way. My heart sinks, I need to sit already. Fine! I will sit for a minute and then I can carry on. I do, I get up and strip the bed. I sit down again, cursing my aching shoulders. They scream at me as if I have been lifting weights and done a set of quick reps. Nope! Just carried a pile of washing upstairs, had a rest and stripped the bed. It's so unfair! I don't let it beat me though. I wrestle the fitted sheet onto the bed and then take a breath and resist the urge to sit again. Get that cover on that quilt! A voice in my head is demanding. So I do. I take a sad, watery eyed look at the room, it's a mess! I need to put some washing away, I need to vacuum. I look at it and feel despair. HOW can I? I feel like I might have to crawl to the vacuum cleaner. I sigh and walk out of the room and return to the laptop. My thoughts come crashing in at me like waves. I know I shouldn't let the negative thoughts win. I try to challenge them. Am I lazy? NO! Am I pathetic? NO! Am I a bad person? NO! Am I taking the easy option? Ummm.....Am I acting like a victim?...Er....Am I getting something out of being like this? *sob* WHAT?! Shut up brain!!! There ya go! Hit a nerve! Am I wasting energy beating myself up? YES!!! A short rest and I can go and do a little bit more. I am up and down the stairs like a yoyo but It is the only way I can manage. This is what every day has become for me. I know I could do more when I was fitter but as you can see, keeping the motivation up is hard work. I can't exercise in the normal way. It's stop start, stop start and even then, I can't tell if I have overdone it and doing anything seems to trigger a flare, more like when am I not in flare? It's always like this. if it was just pain I think I could fight it but the exhaustion is crippling. 

An attitude of gratitude

So today may have started well, had a crumby middle but, it did have a prettier ending. It hasn't turned the day into the unappetising pooh sandwich that it sounds! No! It had a crunchy sugar topping that made everything else so much easier to swallow.

I have no transport, no money, a tricky path to walk on but, at the risk of sounding corny, I have friends, who care about ME! People who are willing to take time out to make sure I am REALLY okay. I am ignoring the little voice inside, asking me, 'What I did to deserve it?' or 'Am I  offering the same in return? 'Because this chatter box is never satisfied with me! I am just going to be grateful. Thank you for your love and care. Thank you for being you.

Negativity is a monster! I have been guilty of feeding it with my pessimistic thoughts and it grows bigger and uglier and greedier. Negativity you are on a diet! Waddle away from me and stop being such a lump in my heart and my head!!!

I have noticed lately a more peaceful me. I am thinking more and more about my need for space and taking some time out to be creative. A seat in a sunny spot when I drink my tea and watch the birds, leafing through a book or magazine. Music that makes me smile. Having a go at something creative. It actually gave me some energy. I folded clothes and put them away and I was still smiling even when I ached. It's funny how doing that, taking that time to do what I enjoy, made me feel more refreshed than sleep does. Better than a nap. Again,ignoring a voice telling me it's because I am somehow in control and to blame for this illness. I am listening to when my body buzzes with stress. It fuzzes me out. I am fizzy inside. My blood is rushing my hands and feet tingling. If I speak, it is rambling. Today I stopped and took some breaths and I just felt tired, the fuzzy, buzzy stress went away and that is an improvement to me. I really am just finding more peace. I am always telling others to recharge their battery. You can't give if you don't give to yourself. I think I understand now, I have been doing it wrong for myself. Resting and sleeping are not enough. My body is asking me to be me, feed me, love me. I am listening and I am grateful I am beginning to understand. Happy tears after this revelation to myself. Happy,grateful tears. I know that a lot of this is down to the fabulous people in my life. Some big heavy doors are unlocking. 

Life is good when I listen to what I need, truly need

Do you know what is great?!

Anytime you choose to, you can change! You can slip right out of an old way of thinking or doing, just like unzipping a catsuit and stepping out of it! You just have to want to.

I was just lying here, worrying and torturing myself over things I don't feel I have control over. Raking myself over hot coals of guilt and failure when, it occurred to me, that was yesterday! It's not like I can't change and become the person I really want to be! 

Isn't that amazing?! I can change, I can grow.

 Being willing to change, to be open to having been wrong and capable of making changes feels great! 

I can just set that down here and open my heart and mind to a new way of thinking and doing.

Whispers of doubt, fears of old habits. You belong in yesterday!

Fibro might have my body but, its not taking my mind, my choices, my joy!

Jack-in-a-box

I folded my grief up tight, way back when it was like a great big over-whelming blanket. I calmly and quietly folded it over and over. It was neat and tidy, no ends showing. I put it away and didn't ever want to see it again. By the time it started unravelling and pressing on the lid, people were wondering what it was doing, trying to be in the here and now so, I just pressed it down firmer. I could say 'Yes! There it is, my grief! What a box of hell that was!' I'm still 15yrs old, struggling to keep down this rusty lid. It keeps flipping open on me and I am so scared I don't know what to do! I can't tell anyone I am not in control. I would rather be upset about not having any money or anything, rather than admit I am still dealing with this grief.
I don't feel I have permission to do this now. Mum tries to tell me he was no good and I resent that, her being no angel herself! I don't even allow myself to remember him really. It's too hard! No one mentions him. It's like he didn't exist.
I long for him to be here. To see the children to give me hug, smooth the hair on my head and say 'good girl' make me feel like maybe I'm not so bad.
It's feels so pointless to be so upset when it can't bring him back or make my life better.
I just have to plod on. I will look like a red eyed monster tomorrow and no one will even notice or care. Part of me is glad. More of me wonders what I am even doing here. To feel so ignored and then I see the connection. It's familiar.
It's all very well knowing it but, changing is hard. I just have to be me and rebuild this shell into something more meaningful. Like I said, this is a hard time in my life right now. Some things need to change.

Flare Time!

First my left ankle decided to swell up and feel sprained and now my right elbow has toothache. I need more hot water bottles! Seriously! How can it be, that just when you thought you were in a flare, fibro comes along and takes bigger bites?! When I close my eyes this monster is there gnawing at me all the more.
I have taken some paracetamol in the hope that it takes the edge off. I am resisting getting stronger pain killers, as my liver enzymes were not good on the last check. I hardly drink now, so it's not that. I felt accused by my doctor, when he asked if I drank much or took many painkillers. The truth is I try to put up with the pain and have a rare binge on booze a few times a year. Of course I am worried about taking pills now!
I hate to be such a moaner. What is the point of repeating the same whinges over and over?! Is saying ' I hurt and I am tired' a million times a day going to end it?! Nope!
When I didn't know what was wrong with me, I was different. I felt haunted by a dark cloud of the unknown. Well, now I do know and I promised myself I would kick its ass, if only I had a name for this unknown cloud. Now I feel like I am wading in knee high water, not even sure of where I want or need to be. I couldn't kick anything if I tried. Bloody hell! I thought I was stronger than this. I thought I be like ' Pain! KERPOW! ' and 'Tiredness! Sizzle!' Nope! I do less and opt out more. Trying to accept my limits, trying to pace myself. Coming to terms with half life.
To look at me you might wonder what I am talking about and be shocked at my seeming apathy. To me though, everything is effort, energy, life force. I can plod on in public and crumble behind closed doors. In here I can be pale and shaky and not feel the compulsion to smile and be happy. I don't like either me much. I cringe at people saying they are 'what you see is what you get' I can't face outside without my cheerful armour. It's protecting me and you.
I am in a strange old time in my life, for sure! I can be gloomy and real here like i am wallowing. Out there I can feel the warmth on my skin, sun on my face. I still have purpose and am capable of happy, this is just a part of me. It's nice to be able to express it and leave it here.
Another drop dripped.



Relax Damn it!

My brain! It's so quiet and unhelpful during the daytime. If there are numbers to add, appointments to remember, plans to be made, my brain is singing 'La-la-laah! Can't hear you!!!' Then, I go to bed, hoping for sweet slumber. Then it is so kind (sarcasm) and gives me the full list! In big shouty CAPITALS! I call across to my husband, let him know all the things he forgot to do, things he needs to do and beg him to remind me of the things I need to do. Wait! What? Why is it all on my shoulders? Why do I accept this role?! You might wonder what my husband is doing?! Well after a few sleepy 'Hmms!' Snoring! Yep! Nothing haunting him. No shouty brain- stuff for him!
Good night!

Accepting good things 

Do you ever feel like you don't deserve good things? A treat? Kind words? A favour? You know? That kind of thing! I almost can't stand it! I practically want to run away from it. Even when my husband says 'I love you!' I joke 'I'll see if I can find you one!' It's all very jokey. That is what I do. I hide all I can behind a laugh and a joke. I do it to the point that even I am cringing! I can't accept a compliment or BELIEVE I am loved. I am not keen on the real me behind the mask. She's so boring and flat. I don't feel I am all I promise I am. A bit of tissue stuffed bra! Most people politely humour my bravado but I have never been so aware of my own energy and what effect it has on people. I feel a bit like an arctic blast or a puff of wind on a raw nerve and it leaves me wondering if I can be more real and more of a solid, like a grown up. I wonder will I ever feel like a grown up? This is what happens when I lie awake thinking too much in the early hours of the morning! I think I just wish I was more helpful and supportive instead of
being so weak and needy.

22nd February 2013

I had a gorgeous day yesterday. I watched a great film with my beautiful (in every way) friend and got treated to tea and toast. I have NEVER tried chocolate spread with popping candy in it before! V COOL! Loved that and the strawberry jam was divine. Real whole strawberries CORR! I was well loved by the two adorable dogs and I loved it. I felt very happy and pretty relaxed (ME!) when I left. I am hoping it wasn't awful of me to garble lots of my stuff on the way out the door. I think I wanted to just get it all out quick. I will write about it when I can, I obviously still have a lot of emotion tied to it all. Doesn't feel fair that I am doing that. I wanted to be there for my friend and not dump on her!

I spent half the night working as we are missing a deadline I set. Well, I say I when I thought it was we. Doing the work we do is stressful. We have to get orders out on time. Of course this week was exceptional as we went out and celebrated my birthday. Work has to be caught up now. We are at the stage where we really need some extra pairs of hands but can't afford to pay anyone. This along with all the house stuff that needs doing is really starting to affect US. We can't seem to get he balance right at all. There IS no time. If the orders go out, the housework suffers and if the house is clean and tidy we are not doing are all for the business. I most of all want to make sure our boys don't pay the price of what we are trying to achieve. We are starting to butt heads. Hubby likes to do EVERYTHING and I allow him. No, I have BEEN allowing that to happen  but last night the one good thing that came out of our 'heated exchange' shall I say? Was that we worked together and we said it felt good to work together. It's what I want but he often carries on with things without communicating with me. So frustrating. One thing on our side always is we both want it to work. PHEW! Without that we have nothing. Now. HOW do we keep the lines of communication open?

Bit fed up with how I have managed to ignore the kitchen I lovingly got up to scratch. It's a bomb site again and of course that slows things down. It's like dominoes (not the pizza place!) or one of those puzzles that you have to slide the tiles along? Yeah! Each move directly affects the position of the next thing. No wonder I am feeling the way I do.  

20th February 2013

I went out yesterday and thoroughly enjoyed myself. I really did have the best time ever. I will remember it forever. Today though, I am of course in agony. I feel bruised all over and wiped out. I was so tired but I kept waking up during the night. It has been one of those times where, you don't want to get up, you feel sleep is what you need. You lift your head and the room spins, it feels impossible and you know it you do get up then that horrid drunken feeling won't lift, it will just dominate your day. I stayed there, trying to get back to sleep. My husband understands and is happy to let me just be. I eventually give in and have some tea and toast. It's almost lunch time anyway. I update my facebook status, telling all about my great night and how I was surrendering to this day of rest, trying to do it guilt free. It's matter of fact to me and I forget it can look like me being a drama queen! I am due to have my son's friend over today after school, another reason I wanted to rest. His mum is also on facebook and I felt guilty and embarrassed when she sent a message asking if it was still okay or him to come over. Truth is it doesn't matter if I am up or not, my husband is very good at keeping the kids amused. He's just walked in and told me he'd said it was 'nothin' and it was fine to have him round as planned.  Now I am annoyed with him for making it seem trivial. It's a no win situation. So do I bare my soul and be honest about how my life is affected or do I pretend it is nothing? Maybe I have to carry on leading the double life, where to public I am 'fine' and only a select few know how it really is?        

18th February/19th February - 40 years old

So yesterday I was 40 years old. 40 years old. Lots of people are telling me 'life begins' at 40. Really?! I know this is a common and well-meaning phrase. Thank you, I should say. Thank you for telling me that my life is beginning NOW and all the rest, was not as much 'life' as it could be NOW. Shame that stings. Shame it rips my heart out, shame is cuts and burns, shame it shatters and ruins my today. Oh, I know I am being dramatic! I have had almost a bottle of wine. Sod it! It's my birthday!!! Thing is my dad was 39 when he died and I am now older than he was when he was forced to say goodbye. *Deep intake of breath* I'm still holding on to the sides. I'm still hopping instead of swimming. Tears had to end this day. Bitter angry tears of WHY?! Because, in part, I am still 14yrs,almost 15yrs old inside. Still stuck in that moment in time, when he died, and now I have been 39 and matured as much as he matured, but now I have to go on, I have to go and be more mature and enjoy my family and love my family, all except for him because he reached 39 and no more. I want to ask him things, share things, do things with him, but he can't be here and tell me how I am 40 now and getting old 'HAHAHA!' His little brother sent me a message on facebook and he said hardly anything 'Happy birthday from all of us' and I try to strike up conversation and he is short and tells me 'he is fine', 'they are fine' and 'CHOW!' If my dad was here I wouldn't give a shit! My uncle would be 'fine' but, not so important but, now he isn't here, my three uncles are vitally important! How else am I meant to connect with my dad? I mean WTF?!  I have this issue all the time. My uncle, one in particular, he calls. he wants me to visit but, I am confused. I am lost. I go there and he avoids me. I am a failure, I am sure. If they think that, then what would my dad think of me?  I am 40 and I am not in my 'own home', I am not successful. Compared to my cousins I am a nothing. Ah well! it's my pity party and I will cry if I want to!


17th February 2013

Meditation was a subject that came up in conversation recently and it got me thinking. I am a bit scared of relaxing, is that as crazy as it sounds?! I like sleepy, dreamy but, the thought of making myself let go of what is holding me up each day, letting go, really brings to mind the fact that I can't swim!
When I was at primary school we used to go on weekly swimming lessons aka 'my personal hell'. Each week the poor old instructor would turn red and purple with frustration at not being able to get me to let go of the edge of the pool. I can still remember his bitter disappointment in me when he discovered my new moves were just a trick, a cruel deceitful trick I had played on him. I wasn't really swimming in time with the other swimmers, I was hopping! Well, it was torture to be the only one left unable to swim! I was sent to the shallowest step in disgrace and told to learn to swim in the shallowest of shallow water. I was a laughing stock! The only thing worse than that was having to go swimming with blue feet! Yes you really did read that! My gorgeous jumble sale bargain footwear, were not suitable for puddles and no amount of scrubbing with a pumice stone or nail brush would shift the smurf blue stains. Begging for a note to excuse me from swimming was pointless. I tried. So, in the end the instructor went all out and brought out the big guns (not literally of course! Though I bet he wanted to!) Arm bands. Huh! Not one on each arm. TWO! He tried three but I couldn't move. Not just on my arms. Oh-ho no! Ankles. One on each. I think he'd hoped to get one set round my knees but NOPE! Then there was the belt. It was a weird looking thing. It had something like rocket shaped floats in it. Then I got in the water and he flung me a couple of floats for under my arms. Yes, the whole class WAS watching! NO it didn't bloody work! I just couldn't let go. So, for some reason, this is what I think of when I think of relaxing, especially relaxing ON PUROSE.

Other thoughts that came to mind were about the chanting. I remember the feeling I used to get, humming along to the vacuum cleaner. An annoying habit my mum used to try and slap me out of but, I do remember it feeling great to be in harmony with something. I know this is all quite hilarious but, that is serious, the feeling of harmony. You are not 'allowed' to hum in tune to the vacuum cleaner when you are a grown up, it's not the done thing! Shame really. Maybe chanting and meditating is about that feeling, and we would all benefit from finding the hum of the universe and what pitch it is so we can tune into it and get that harmonious feeling? Thinking of ourselves as vibrations and energy makes sense to me. I have read how some blind people can tell what colour something is because each colour has its own vibration. Look at how colour can make you feel. To tell you the truth I don't really think that holding onto the side of, whatever it is I am really holding onto, is helping me move through life in a positive way. I doubt if it IS water I am really scared of. What if I am scared of life? Scared of not being in control? I'm not convinced there isn't a link between feeling scared to let go of the edge of the pool and being scared to relax and, while I think of it, it's also pretty darn close to being scared to fall asleep, another fear I have always had. What happened to me to make me feel like this and when? I have read a lot about past lives and I wonder or am I missing the point of what has happened already in this life ? All fascinating and I am keen to explore. I am open to new experiences. I am ready.


8th February 2013

I have picked up some nasty cold thing. I feel rotten and double rotten because I missed a visit to a dear friend yesterday thanks to a badly timed night out for our youngest. As it was, it probably was for the best health wise. I don't want to spread my germs! Sad though, because I find time spent with this special lady very good for my soul. Selfish of me. I have a friend coming over to stay tomorrow night. I have not had anyone over to stay at this house before. I am panicking over the state of the place of course. She knows I am not feeling 100% and she is still keen to visit. I did promise not to cough on her! Maybe this is part of me learning to accept the new me as well? We had talked about doing this for a long time, months! I was always too scared to let her come over to stay. Getting part of the house 'presentable' was hard enough, so to get the whole place sorted, a nightmare! The kitchen is clean now at least but the rest is a mess still. I feel a bit like one of those people on HOARDERS letting people come in to look round whist I cringe in a corner. I have told myself 'It will do' and of course she insists she is coming to see me, not the house.
I have  thought about this a lot. I have asked myself  'How do  I feel if I visit someone and their house is dirty?' I do have a couple of friend's, who have houses which are not spotless. Well, okay, pretty grubby! lol What do I think? REALLY? I must be honest and I don't REALLY CARE! Why is it that I care so much about my house then? It feels like the end of the world to me. I accept people as they are. I know that life can be unkind and it takes a lot of energy to keep the house up together. I see the people not their surroundings. If it's bad I probably won't fancy a cup of tea but I wouldn't think anything bad about them as people. I would be mortified if someone didn't want me to come and see them because their house was a mess! I really don't care! It can't be as bad as here (in my eyes) Funny I have such double standards! I say to hubby sometimes 'If social services saw this house, they would take the kids' Jokingly serious. If I really am TOO hard on myself, I wonder, AM I actually making a huge deal out of nothing much or is it truly minging in here and people would not even want a cup of tea? Well I have some photos on my phone now of it at its worst and if I feel brave I might share them and see what my friend coming to stay says. She is sure to be honest, especially after a couple of wines HA! I know her! I am so fed up with feeling like a prisoner. I really need to see if people will accept this cruddy side of me. I mean, I am not saying, I LOVE living like this. It's more, 'This is a good reflection of where I am at right now.' I don't want or expect it to carry on like this but this is it now. OMG! I want to vomit! I am so full of bravado. In the morning I will be rushing around here disgusted that I am allowing it to be VIEWED and LIVED IN.
In other news. I gave one of my cream leather sofas a good scrubbing! Something so simple hurts me so much. Every couple of scrubs and my shoulders are aching and burning as if I am lifting weights. I persevered. The less you do the worse it is so I must at least do a bit. Use it or lose it! Also I stood in the kitchen chopping veg last night. I tell you what though, I felt shaky and I had to do a bit and sit down, do a bit and sit down. I felt pretty pathetic, but to be fair, it is probably this cold thing I have got. I did notice it felt a bit awkward. Taking back the control a bit in the kitchen is going to upset our 'normal' hubby is so used to doing everything and I think he enjoys it. He won't agree. He says he is looking forward to me doing more cooking. Hmmm! We will see. I felt I failed today when I was feeling so rough I needed to sleep and he ended up cooking the dinner. GRRR! This is what I am talking about. Can't be relied on can I? What most people can soldier on with illness wise, knocks me down. Stupid immune system! Two minor triumphs though. GO ME!  

5th February 2013

I am still stuck in this funk of not sleeping at night and sleeping during the day. I am sick of myself! I am challenging my thoughts more today. I am looking at jobs and not just thinking myself out of them. I am reminding myself that I can do a bit. I am taking control of the kitchen on Thursday. I am planning what meal to cook. I am really looking forward to that. It's not like I don't do anything. I think I am a bit like the dieter who thinks eating leftovers doesn't count! I do things and think 'Well that was nothing really'. I am about to do something creative and necessary. Some invitations to a party. I doodled some affirmations as well. It's a great way of thinking about them as you doodle. It makes the affirmation stick in your brain. At least for a little while. I have been looking after the business online. Researching things. I am not totally useless!

Earlier on today, I was talking about fibromyalgia with my eldest, he is 13yrs old and I was saying that someone had said not to take echinachea, because it increases white blood cells, (working on the theory that FM is an autoimmune disease) and so not a good idea to take it. He is very into science and wants to be a vet and he told me white blood cells fight infections and he thought that would be good, so I explained that in autoimmune disease, your body makes white blood cells to attack your own body, as it starts treating it like it's a foreign body. I told him how I wished I could do more and have more fun times with him and his little brother. He said 'Don't worry mum! I'll find the cure. I'll buy a big microscope with the money I have saved and all I will need is a water sample!' Bless his heart. Made me brim with tears when he said that.                  

4th February 2013

I'm just totally irrational and unreasonable! I lie in bed half the day after being awake with stomach and hip pain. (I get this at times, part of fibromyalgia.) Anyway, I get up and see the place is a total bomb site and I am so frustrated that I could explode! My shoulders are feeling much better today but my energy is minus something on the energy scale!  Hubby has been putting time into the business and now dutifully cooking dinner for us. I just feel so angry that it is such a state in here. He thinks I am angry with him but I think I am more angry with myself. I think I am guilty of opting out all the time. Maybe there are times when I could do something and I don't? *OUCH*  I put the mental blocks up. Past experiences put me off. I remember when I have tried and been left so upset and angry with myself for not being able to clean one single room in a whole day. I know I could pick things up and put them away but, I just give it the evil eye and wish it would disappear, because I am just exhausted! I remember the times I have tried and then discovered that actually I am just totally empty. I am not imagining it. I really am that weak. I know I have to do ten minutes of work and stop for another 10 minutes. Not very inspiring. Doesn't make me want to do it. I should though! Where is that part of me that would stubbornly do things no matter what?! No one sees the house like this, I won't let them! I am ashamed. I am going to try an experiment tonight. I am going to tackle some of the living room. If I can lower my expectations, that might help. I am in 'all or nothing' mode too much. I need to learn to chip away at things. It IS worthwhile. It WILL make a difference. I have to adjust my brain to this new way of life. I do focus on what I haven't done, rather than on what I have done. Hoping to be back later and let you know how I got on.          

*I know it's technically the 5th now but I just wanted to add a small update to this day. I managed to sort some piles of stuff out and not overdo it. Well, I don't think I did! Tomorrow will let me know. So that is REALLY positive. I am going to have to remind myself doing bits of jobs can be helpful. Another thing I am doing is starting an affirmation book. I am going to write the relevant affirmations down and maybe even doodle around them, make them look pretty whilst getting them lodged in my addled brain.

It's great to be getting some positive energy. Thank you to my lovely friends.

2nd February 2013

So, I got up early today. It was fuzzy but I coped. Aching in my shoulders and arms STILL after cleaning out that cupboard! Ridiculous!!! I got home, had some lunch and was overwhelmed with tiredness. Just like someone stuck a straw into my lungs and sucked all my air and energy away. Zapped! So, I went to to bed for a couple of hours. I felt wretched about it afterwards. Like I am just wasting perfectly good days. I just feel so useless. What the heck is wrong with me?! Oh yeah, fibromyalgia. It really is this thing! I can only cling on helplessly as the waves do as they please. I am so sick of having no control! I can't make a routine for myself. I can't make a plan to get through. I can't take notes and make a new timetable fit. I crave routine. I want routine. I can't HAVE routine. I am having a drink of wine, or two or three. I will sleep tonight! Alcohol is fine at the time but I know it makes me worse, so  I am crazy for doing it. At the same time I NEED to relax, I need to get rid of the tension, the guilt, the internal pressure I put on myself. I am torn between giving myself a break and kicking my arse!        

1st February 2013

Again another late start day. It's depressing in itself getting up to a fraction of a day and seeing only a fraction of the daylight. It's not healthy and another link in this vicious circle or cycle. I got up feeling exhausted and aching as usual. I was kept awake by stomach pain. Curses to the IBS!  Living slow makes everything slow. I did manage to get out and about for a little while. Tomorrow is my busy day. I love Saturdays! I get up early I do things I enjoy doing. I have to rest up in the evening but, it is worth it. I always feel so much better when I am up and about. I can do a few early mornings a week but, for some reason, I can't stick to it and when I absolutely HAD to, I was sleeping in the afternoons and then at night too! I can't win. It seems  this exhaustion catches up with me no matter how I do it. When I do sleep, I am not easy to wake. I can hear the voice in my head telling me I am just a lazy slob! I could do it if I had to! I am just taking the easy, lazy option. That is why I wanted to set a regular bedtime but, lately with these jobs in the house that NEED doing yesterday, that idea is going out the window. We promise we will get back to that routine. I hope we can at least stick to that.
Positive things are happening. The house is getting clear of clutter. We may have discovered mice droppings under the kitchen cupboards but, they are being dealt with. I can smell peppermint as I type, they don't like that apparently! Nooks and crannies are being blocked up. Disinfectant is at the ready. There is a light at the end of the tunnel, it's very faint, it is there. I need it minimal and manageable. And there goes that voice again telling me I am so full of IT!        
       
31st January 2013

My day started at around 3pm today. I'd had a hard time getting to sleep. I was so tired, I ached for sleep. It seems as soon as I shut my eyes my brain starts to shout. It shouts about all the things I haven't done. It twists conversations I've had into awful new realities. It gnaws at my self esteem 'Are sure all the things that went wrong today weren't YOUR fault?!' It taunts. It's not just the negative either. I get all these ideas, creative ideas, things I want to make, from decorating to pictures. When I get up I don't have the energy. It's weird. It's as if my brain has the energy and is raring to go but my body holds it back. I am well aware I have a family history of bipolar, so I am scared. The signs worry me!  I have to say, I have been under pressure recently through work and money and how that affects my marriage too. Not being able to sleep, insomnia, has been worse during this time. Depression is something I live with. I am pretty sure I have always been depressed. Sounds self-pitying but no, just a fact really. I know the signs. I have had 'breakdowns' where I have just shut down. I stopped speaking, stopped feeling, just blank. I could hear people talking to me but, it was like they were far away, down a tunnel. I don't want to go there again. I at least know the signs now. I can take action. One of them is keeping this blog. Exercise and getting out of the house also help.
I felt very spoiled today, by one lovely friend. I doubt if she realises how uplifting our time was today. The subject was heartbreaking, so uplifting sounds odd, but it felt good to be talking, to be able to share. How it feels to be trusted with someone else's pain. Honoured. How I hope and pray I have helped in some way too. The thought and effort put in was very touching and we do deserve it! Thank you.
I get so bogged down by guilt and chores all washed down with more guilt. See, the thing is, for years I have been battling crippling fatigue. 13 years. Even before then but, the past 13 years have been the hardest. I got diagnosed with an under active thyroid and I waited patiently for my energy to return and it did, a bit. I was okay, I was coping, then it fizzled away again. I got more thyroxine and I got a bit of a boost..for a while. I got another increase of thyroxine. I had the boost, shorter this time and the next time I had a blood test, it came back 'normal' Devastating! I have felt like I am running on empty ever since. Then last year I got diagnosed with fibromyalgia. Doomed, never to recover. I take a low dose antidepressant, which is supposed to help me get a better night's sleep. They think the cause of fibromyalgia is disturbed sleep. If you never reach that phase of deep restorative sleep, you get the symptoms of fibromyalgia, which are incidentally, like the symptoms of under active thyroid. There are theories about the tests not being adequate. I don't have the energy to fight though. You know I cleaned that cupboard out? Well, my arms are aching like mad today! Seems to be getting worse as the day goes on. It feels just like I have been lifting weights at the gym. Huh! Some hope! I say to myself 'I am unfit, that's why it hurts so much.' I don't even know, that might be partly true. This thing has no rhyme or reason. The therapy for it is exercise, gentle exercise. I know I feel better in myself when I get out for walks every day. I can't keep it up though. I can manage a few days or a week then I find I am in flare, having pain all over and exhaustion that stops me in my tracks. I have questioned my sleeping and wondered if I sleep too much. I know that can make you feel pretty awful. Too much sleep, not good. The thing is, if I wake up feeling like I have been out on the beers, dizzy, fuzzy head, totally unable to focus or function, I know my day will be miserable, I know I will hurt more than if I just give in and have more sleep, at least then my head will be 'in tune' . The pains pop up all over the place. Knee one day, elbow the next, all over me on flare days. I remember having a bad time with my arms a few years ago, I could hardly lift a cup to my mouth. It is embarrassing! It can last days,weeks or months. Then there are the other linked things like, dry eyes and mouth (Sjogren's Syndrome) , jaw joint problems (TMJ) rib problems (costochondritis /tietze's syndrome). The list is too long.  I am sat here kidding myself that cleaning and de-cluttering will make life managable, that I won't need so much of my husband's help to do the every day chores. 'Be positive!' I hear you cry but to be honest I have been there and though positive and been disappointed so I am just going to go for REAL.


30th January 2013

Today my day started at about 2pm I opened my eyes and wanted to keep them closed until the pain was gone. I couldn't do that, because my children would soon be home. It's embarrassing that sometimes I am in bed when they leave and still there when they get in. I try not to let that happen. I am ashamed. This is not the kind of mother I wanted to be. This is not how I imagined being married and being a mother would be. I was going to be up first and cook them all porridge or pancakes. Make them eat at the table, see that they cleaned their teeth, were smart and cared for before they left. I would have a routine and I would be on top of things. I didn't say I was going to enjoy it all every day. I knew it would be hard work. I have never LOVED housework. I am normal. I just expected to be able to do the basics. Instead of that my husband does his best. He admits it's not to my standard but he does what he can. I should think myself lucky right? I do! I turn a blind eye and broken heart to the mess I see. I can't look at it too much because it upsets me. I focus on the work on my laptop. I look at the screen. Oh! I have tried! Don't get me wrong, I don't sit here and feel smug about him doing the chores. I have spent years, bullying myself into doing things. I have! I really and truly have! I used to clean other people's houses. I used to do it well! I could clean a house and walk miles to and from that house and then do my own. I don't know why, now, I can start to clean a single room and ten minutes in, I am on the floor in floods of tears, because simple things like picking stuff up off the floor or folding clothes HURTS. It feels like I have been run over during the night. It feels like I have bruises all over my joints and lifting my arms up feels like I am weight lifting.  Back to today. I was feeling extra bad because last night I cleaned out a big double pantry. I emptied it, scrubbed it inside and out and  put it all back together. One measly job! One lousy job! That was all I could manage and I was in pain the whole time I did it. I knew it would hurt today. I did it anyway, because I want to do it how I want to do it and I DO want to do it! I am trying to scrub the whole kitchen. My husband is helping me. It has got so out of control in there I must do it. He has done three times the work I have, probably more. It's still not done. I have to get up and go help him in a minute. I haven't been able to go and do it today because there is stuff everywhere and I can't even get to it all. I used to be able to roll my sleeves up and get stuck in. I used to enjoy the challenge. I have managed to get some work done online which helps me feel not quite so useless.  I ache extra today and now I have to get up and try scrubbing more shelves and moving more things. I hurt already. I don't even want to take a single step. I am so tired. I could cry at the thought of it but I won't. I will get up and go out there and do what I can. I might have to rest in ten minutes time. I might manage to do a bit more after a rest. How many people would fight like this if they felt like I do? Would they realise they were not well and try tomorrow?  Would they think this is normal and just be able to carry on? Am I amazingly strong or amazingly weak? Yes I have MILD fibromyalgia. Maybe what I feel IS normal though? So many people have this. I be a lot of people have this and carry on with life as normal. Am I just unfit now and this is why I am feeling so terrible? Opting out of doing things all the time. Having that extra sleep. No one could beat myself up as much as me. I flip from feeling justified to feeling like a failure.
This is the end of today's Fibrodrop x