It’s times like these where I regret scheduled posts.
I love my family, honestly. Just struggle to get the stuff I need to done.
Much love to everyone!
It’s times like these where I regret scheduled posts.
I love my family, honestly. Just struggle to get the stuff I need to done.
Much love to everyone!
I haven’t given up my project AD, but writing it in this environment is increasingly hard for me – there is little respect for my time for doing this and Henry keeps having a lot of time off from school due to sickness.
When Henry is home it is almost impossible to just simply function like normal, because Paul and Henry are constantly sniping and screaming at each other for one reason or another.
I would love to start a YouTube channel very soon, but to be honest, it may have to be in twenty minute snatches of time, because that’s as long as they go between slanging matches with each other.
My project AD is definitely developing a lot in my head, I just wish I could get it down in writing – it is starting to give me a headache as I can’t do as much as I want to anymore. There are times, like now, I have only written four short paragraphs and that is enough for me to lose my flow and have to come back an hour or so later to try and add more, because someone has decided to scream at another person 3ft from my ear.
Thankfully though, right now, it’s not so bad – it’s not the usual problem, but it could soon escalate.
Project AD is developing into a gothic-noir in my opinion, though there are comedy elements in it and it is written for children I am seeing the artwork as quite similar to those found in movies such as The Crow, Batman or Tim Burton style.
I am loving the comedic scenes I am seeing in my head and there will be more humans in the story than I originally planned – normal humans, children specifically, which help the mutated animals come to grips with the post human ruled world, by learning how to adapt to their mutations.
All I need to write just one novel is two hours a day over six weeks for each draft, that’s all and I can’t even do that in this environment.
The irony is, I lived in a violent family where I was constantly stressed in London when I lived with my parents; but it was quiet a lot of the time and I always knew at specific times without a shadow of a doubt that things will definitely be quiet, because my family were creatures of habits and they didn’t like going outside of their routine. So I always planned my writing around them.
For example, my mother would be out of the house between 10am and 1pm at least 3 days a week without me, which was writing time. Then I knew she was addicted to her soaps on TV for 4 evenings a week, meaning that between 7pm and 9pm I was free to write again.
If I was lucky she’d want to watch a movie at 9pm till 11pm that I wouldn’t be interested in and that meant more writing could get done.
Which meant for me that I was writing an average of two to eight hours per day when I lived in London, compared to twenty minute snatches of time, now!
There is no routine in this house that is stable and it kind of drives me insane.
No TV schedules for other members of the household, no going out at regular intervals, it is all up in the air and uncertain all of the time!
The only thing I can guarantee on (if Henry isn’t sick) is that on a Tuesday evening every two weeks Henry will go to a charity for young carers for three hours after school. Young carers deal with much more than just children who care for their parents, they deal with kids in poverty who have experienced being around a lot of people who are disabled or sick and are helping them to learn how to cope mentally with that. Henry specifically has experienced a lot of death in the family since he was very small and it is taking its toll on him.
What bothers me is there are so many other new stories I want to write as well and it is driving me bonkers – I just want two hours a day and apparently that is too much to ask for!
My attention span has always been really bad – but since living in this chaos it is nearly unmanageable. I can write posts for my blog, because if I lose my flow it won’t be as damaging as when I am writing a novel. If you get me?
This is probably why some of my posts seem to be all over the place and repetitive, because I am interrupted a lot.
My best posts are usually written when people are in bed.
I am getting so emotionally drained by all of this tension that I am not reading as much as I used to, I am falling asleep watching YouTube in bed and all sorts of places.
As my spirits have been trying to tell me, caterpillar you need to sleep as much as you can because soon you are going to transform into a butterfly and you need all the energy you can get to fly!
Anyway, thanks for reading!
My Henry has been sent home from school and thankfully Paul actually took him to the doctors immediately today because the doctor said that Henry is showing some early signs of meningitis and so he is off school for the rest of the week for meningitis watch!
He seems ok, a little headachy and stiff neck and dizzy spells but other than that there is no fever yet or rash, so we’re keeping watch on that right now. He has had a headache since Sunday evening but Paul put it down to the fact that Henry is on the computer all the time and declines to wear his much needed glasses!
So to say I am a little frightened is an understatement!
A lot because I am his mother and I love him but also I am frightened for me, because my auto-immune inner ear condition and my former mastoid problem raises my likelihood in having meningitis by 20% and some kinds of meningitis is contagious – so yeah, I am petrified really.
So, there’s a heads up for you all.
If you don’t see me around for a while, you probably can guess what’s happened?
I have 2 scheduled posts for tomorrow and 1 for Friday, so if there isn’t anything more being added, you know something is afoot!
Thanks for reading!
There are a lot of people I miss from my past.
A lot of holes in my heart that hasn’t been filled by the loss of those people who were once in my life and some of them are dead now and some of them won’t talk to me because of their loyalties to others who have harmed me and so; they are not part of my life anymore.
Even the best of them had a lot of problems that the average Joe couldn’t cope with, but I didn’t mind them as they were the lesser evils in my life. I know it sounds bad to call them that, but if you had known what I was up against day to day you’d have a hard time believing that some of the people I miss were the good ones, but to me, they were the best!
To me they were brilliant, vibrant, they made me happy and they kept my confidence from reaching rock bottom.
So what if they had problems with their anger, drink, drugs, crime, so what if they were benefit scroungers, scarred, societal oddballs that had dubious leanings to the occult or were overzealous bible punchers. They were nice people to me and I loved them.
Even if sometimes I would be scared to visit them because their husband is home for once and drunk at the time and I never knew if I would need to stick around for her sake, just in case an ambulance was needed. Even if I knew that they themselves were drunk and would go on their vicious rants about other people I loved and would then start becoming weird with me, I knew they weren’t always like that and I forgave them because their lives were in some ways just as horrible as my own, if not more so.
To be honest, I think it was only a small margin of people in my life who weren’t addicted to something or another or didn’t have some kind of serious mental issue about them. To me, I am easily hurt in honouring them – what I mean is, I see people don’t forgive people like those easily. People don’t really support people like them unless they’ve been there themselves or loved someone who have been.
So it drives me around the twist when I see a lovely person like these people, striving hard against all the odds to become a sober person and someone bad from their past comes along to upset the cart or people who don’t understand or know them judge them harshly for their pasts where the poor buggers are sitting there wondering is there any point at all in being sober if I am constantly going to be judged all the time?
Is it any wonder they think that at all? I mean, why do people judge others for their past? The past is gone, praise them for their efforts now, never wield it as a weapon against them by suggesting that they need you, because oh you know, you’d go back to that way of life without me. That is blackmail and I have a hard time sitting around hearing that kind of vomit coming out of people’s mouths.
I have lost people I love to this, suicide because why did they bother? Murdered because their past friends snuck an injection into their arms when they weren’t looking at a party for an old time’s sake!
I’ve seen it all and I don’t like it.
I don’t like how people judge them.
It breaks my heart because all I can see are their floods of tears and their war wounds, still fighting hard against all the odds, and yet society wants to kick them down again – because they think that once you’re in that type of life, you always belong there and it isn’t true!
Society needs to change; they need to praise them when they try to get sober. Not kick them in the gutter because they tried to get a job and you’re judging them because they were honest with you about their past and why it took them so long to make the decision to have that career now!
I am disgusted at the law for locking addicts away into prisons making them criminals, when in fact most of them are actually very good law abiding citizens who only use their addictions as a means to cope with life’s hurdles.
Instead there should be recuperation centres or something, but not a prison.
Why am I talking about all of this today?
Because I miss a lot of people who have or had had that kind of life, I miss them a lot and I worry about them every day, I love them all a lot and I bet they think I don’t even think of them anymore – but I do!
My family run rife with drunks and junkies, some are law abiding but there are a couple who are out and out criminals, I won’t hide that.
To think I escaped that kind of life, people think it’s a miracle – but I don’t because you know… I see how addiction works, I understand it, I was raised to see it in every possible personality type you can think of. I did in fact become drunk for a small while in my youth because it made me human or so my mum and brother told me… here have another drink before you dry out and become like an old prune again Tee.
When I was drunk I was hysterical, I mean scared hysterical, not laughing at all – paranoid that the walls are falling around me, where is the floor? Scary stuff!
My family observed me through morphine when I was recovering from mastoid surgery; they knew what type of addict I would have been based on my behaviour during that time so they said – though it was small doses for two weeks.
Their observations scared me. According to them, I tend to be the type to love the world, be in awe of everything that’s beautiful, be easy going, do anything to me and I would do anything to myself sort. My brother freaked out, this is the type that is going to die on this stuff mum – make sure to keep her away from it!
They told me what I was like when I had it, it was enough to keep me away. They judged I’d be easy to bed, easy to anything and way too honest with people – a no, no in the family, I’d be a spill the beans and everything else on the floor type, my tongue is loose on those things, so they say.
I know on general anaesthetic it lasts longer on me too and although it’s kind of different people have also reported similar personality in me to the above observations. Lover of the world, everything is beautiful, I love you and you and you, yeah you can touch me, yeah I will stick my hand in the BBQ and take the hot coal out for you with my bare hands… seriously, this has happened to me and nobody stopped me doing it either, because the stupid bitch will learn, won’t she?
Nope, that happened twice in my life and nearly a third time when Paul was with me! Up until recently I was naturally trusting because I was always hopeful in finding the best in people, gets worse or comes back when I am drowsy because of meds. I still do try not to lose my faith in people – some will say that’s my biggest fault.
My family didn’t stop me doing things just because I was recovering from surgery and still under some kind of anaesthetic influence, Paul has seen what they’ve done to me, you could ask him yourself if you like? You have his email up there in the Email me tab.
Paul is sensible; on the two occasions I have lived with him and had been under the influence of anaesthetic he forces me to stay in bed for around 48 hours, it takes a time to leave me. It’s weird, even the doctors are puzzled why it stays longer in me.
Gosh I miss some of these people. I miss the console game parties they had, I miss the pub lunches once a month with them, I miss the dogs I had to babysit for them. I miss the gardening we used to do together as we helped our elderly relatives maintain their gardens, all sorts of things.
I miss the cuddles as they tell me that “you’re going to be OK, you smart beautiful girl because you are amazing and strong and you don’t let people push you into crazy shit like this” they say as they hold up their joint to me.
There’s too many, that are gone.
But never ever feel that I will ever judge you because of your past, that’s not me. I am not that kind of person!
I love you for who you are now and who you are striving to be and I wish that you will grow stronger and ignore anybody who tells you that you can’t change – you can change, you’ve probably changed so much already, but NEVER EVER let anyone make you believe that you can’t do it without them!
I love you all and I send all the positive vibes your way to help you heal whatever wound you have whether you are an addict or not!
Thank you for reading!
Today is a semi-masculine day for me, I feel like having a pixie cut or spiky hair and wearing a grey pinstripe suit, odd for me as I usually hate the colour grey, but I want a really nice sexy silky white top on that’s not a button up shirt, no, instead it has a slit down to the navel showing off cheeky cleavage.
I may feel masculine but I still want to feel sexy.
Though I feel masculine I still want to be glamorous and so I would probably have been wearing lots of make up today if I could have had it, particularly a dark red lipstick with a darker lip liner and Cleopatra eye make-up.
Shame I don’t have either the body, make up, the clothes or the style of hair to be like that today!
May have topped it off with a fedora too!
What will really happen if I stayed and lingered here?
Would I become happier if I wait another year?
Would I fly across the moon and wash the shadows clean away?
Would I find solace in someone’s arms some day?
Could I ever be much more than I am now?
Ride a boat in pristine waters I wonder where I’d sail?
I dream of so much more than I possible am
I hope that someday things will change and get me out this can
I can’t stand just existing like this
It feels like the universe is just taking the piss
How the sun smiles down at this fool today
How can I change my life to be another way?
Sometimes I wonder if I should dream at all
When nothing ever works out all I do is fall
Should I keep on fighting for those better things?
Or should I heed the angels that cautiously sing?
I don’t know what to do
I can’t keep on waiting for a clue
I’m desperate for an answer and I want it now
Is there a better place where I can sail?
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