Tag Archives: bully

Gardening was a help

My depression was getting better and the suicidal thoughts were abating on a huge scale three years ago, because of gardening.  Last year my neighbour has got into a new relationship with a man who is creepy and weird and likes to harass and make me uncomfortable when in my garden to such an extent I haven’t touched or been in my garden to do anything since September 2020. 

The thing is, Paul says there is nothing we can do about a neighbour who is like that unless he becomes an actual physical threat, unless we record him on film doing things.  We don’t have the money to set up cameras with microphones to keep tabs on his behaviour so Paul more or less has a shrug it off attitude about it.  So I don’t garden anymore.

I miss it a lot and I wish we could move away, but Paul just can’t.  We can’t afford to for one thing and for another, this house is suffering from rising damp and the roof is broken in two parts.  We also have persistent black mould, which we have to constantly clean away.  The house is worth good money, but we have to knock 40k off it because of its condition, there are no houses in this area we could buy with what would be left for us, on the sale of this.  Well, not a house in which I could have a garden, there are houses but their gardens are literally 10ft by 10ft, they are basically courtyards of townhouse terraces.

It wouldn’t be so bad but this neighbour is also wilfully destructive, he will lean over the fence and literally cut anything he sees peeping up, whether it is leaning into his garden or not.  He has leant over the fence quite a lot on some cases and nearly fell into our garden to do so in order to cut branches of our pine and ash.  He has started to do something I don’t like as well, which is he is trying to reach over to get my blackberry and train it on a chicken wire netting he has placed on his fence, but Paul keeps going out to snip it just as he thinks he has a chance to get it.

He is a rotten man, there are other things but I won’t mention them.  He also accidentally on purpose stumbles off our shared garden path in the front garden to stomp all over my forget-me-nots, dahlias, lilies, nasturtiums and I have caught him trying to take tomatoes, strawberries and mint from the garden too.

He doesn’t like birds sitting on the fence; he will scare them away or spray them with hoses.  He knows we have two bird feeders and like birds in our garden, but he makes sure they don’t stay long!

My cousin taught me a saying once and I laughed at it, it really does apply to this man “that I can’t believe he was the sperm that won”!

Ugh

I miss gardening and I miss lounging in the garden for hours on end reading from April to October every year.

I really have a strong desire to create a food forest garden, but with a nature hating neighbour like that, it is not going to be easy.  Our gardens are 30ft wide and 50ft long in the back garden; he has decked three quarters of his garden and terraced it making the other bits just lawn. 

He is also an insect squisher.  It is hard for someone like me who loves nature and wants to protect it and rewild spaces with my silly hippy idealisms, to see that someone like that exists only to be destructive as it would seem. 

I am particularly sad that I am very passive and I am not known for being particularly assertive, for me to live with a man who is the same.  I feel there is no defence against such a rotter and I have heard him loudly proclaim in big raucous laughter to his brother and friends that we don’t care what he does to our garden and that makes me feel very hurt and angry and sad.

I asked Paul to get some kind of advice about this, but he seems to think it’s all hopeless, there is no one and nothing we can do against such a person.

So I don’t know what to do.

I hope he doesn’t stay there, but it looks like he might be there for a long haul.

Happy reading I suppose.

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Reality is hitting home

Paul and I have agreed that I can’t write like how I used to anymore because I am just too tired and ill a lot lately, especially with sleeping problems occurring. 

So, it has been agreed to cut my usual word count down by a thousand words per day.  Making my word goals 2k a day, because I am struggling to get past 2500 words and I am finding myself in consistent writing debt of 400 to 1350 words on a bad day. 

Like today, I was meant to write no less than 4458 words before tomorrow, because yesterday I was lagging behind as my auto-immune condition has decided to step up its game.  So today I am even worse and needing to go to bed again at any minute (it is nearly 6pm) and I am only just at 2300 words today – so the debt tomorrow would be even greater. 

Before all this crappy ill-health stuff started to happen I would easily vomit out 3k to 10k words per day, depending on how much time I had spare to write.  I felt that I could force myself to fart out 3k a day as an average but I think I have to sit back and realise I am not as healthy as I used to be and I have to learn to manage my health and disabilities better, instead of literally flogging myself to death, just so I don’t – whatever… You know, right? 

I am exhausted emotionally and physically a lot of the time.  I think I have to reside myself to finally realising that I am never going to be how I used to be anymore and I should just learn to make do with what I can do.  Stop pushing myself as hard, especially as stress can make your health worse, I already have enough stress I can’t control, and I may as well cut out the bits that I can.

Not only this, but I am starting to resent my writing today, because it is taking me around three to five hours to do my goals and that meant that my time for other things, such as reading, playing games and just chilling with my family was getting less and less.  So I can’t start resenting work I love doing, because that is not good.  I need to always stay in love with my writing and art, since I found out I have fell in love with it again.  Writing should be a pleasure, not a bind.

I have just got to manage myself better around my illness, better than I have been doing.  I have to start being kinder to myself; as I have been a right bully to myself recently.

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Filed under About my work

Words and people grow like flowers in manure.

I am disgusted with myself today but my partner Paul ensures me that it isn’t my fault.  I worked out last night how much I used to write compared with how much I write these days.  Prior to 2013 I wrote an average of two million words per year, now I struggle to get fifty thousand a year.  I decided this has to change and I have to get the old me back, primarily because I am going insane with the many ideas I have floating in my head – my brain is literally about to burst with literacy.  My brain will soon be splattered all over the internet and in books, so look out world, because I think I’ve been ignited.

The question is, the last time I felt like this was in 2006 and I wrote no less than thirty articles, poems and short stories a day on one site, of course I can’t post that many here on my blog, as this will make me lose subscribers, I mean, come on – who will want thirty notifications a day?  So I am debating about spreading myself onto two other blogs, so my subscribers don’t feel so bombarded – a cunning trick, but it might be worthwhile?  Because once I am on the go, I am on the go – I used to be such a workaholic, totally addicted to writing and then for some reason, I lost it.

I believe confidence has a lot to do with the lack of writing as well as health issues – I have had chronic bronchitis off and on since Christmas!  My confidence has been bashed by two people in particular, those people are held bent on ruining my reputation by any means necessary and has vocalised how they look forward to the day I become world famous, as they will be waiting.

Well there is nothing truly sinister about me but I still worry.  Because it is the story of my life that whenever I do anything to better myself the world seems to contrive a way to embarrass me out of it and make me go back into my insular hole of hopes and dreams.

I have been chronically bullied as I have been ill, most of my life and I have the types of bullies in my life who are no longer present, but always comes back once they think I have started to grow, they treat me like a weed in an abandoned garden.  Once a year someone comes along with a mower and cuts me down again, just in case I start to become too strong.  I think this weed is going to need to use their shit as manure and grow rapidly into a man eating plant!

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Filed under About my work

Going deaf to your misery

 

royalty free image from pixabay

DISCLAIMER – 

The below poem is not meant to be offensive – I am personally a sensory impaired member of society, I am very short sighted with astigmatism and I am totally deaf in my right ear with only 35% hearing in my left ear and I could potentially lose that, considering I have auto-immune inner ear disease.  I have only learned to develop a sense of humour with the cards I’ve been dealt with in life, please understand.

 

Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of deaf

I shall hear no evil, but see a lot I might

Though I hear not the barks that scold me, I see the awful sight

Evidence of those who hate me are seen everywhere

And they sit back and they think that I really, really care

But yea, the mind is full of ego

And they shall think of themselves

I shall sit in wonderment, why they don’t put the hate on their shelves?

I wonder why every day, why they think of me?

When I have left them long ago, yet they still want to torture me?

Then I realise that those poor dears, they do not have a life

So that is why they taunt me, with curses and poisoned words of strife

They of course have an ego too, that you can be sure

That they sit around every day gossiping of the times of yore

Becoming old and bitter, making their friends think that they are a bore

By choosing to focus on the dead past, the past that makes them sore

And I sit back still amazed, that they have chosen to concentrate

On things about me, each and every day, because poisoned words always finds a way

To go back to the victim

You see that’s the side effects of your conviction

Gossip not and leave the friction

 

 

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my tin of brains

My mind is like an ocean where many thoughts do swim

Without them I am empty, like an opened tin

My thoughts are what makes me unique and who I am

But many people try to empty my can

I am just a human; my thoughts are my pride and joy

But people insist in changing me and this it does annoy

Why can’t people leave alone others with their thoughts?

Why can’t others see the light, it’s easy to find the torch

How can you be judgemental, when you’re unique too?

How can you keep judging others who are not you?

If you want peace, accept more, for who and what they are

For if you don’t you’ll surely soon, lead a lonely path

Many minds aren’t empty, though tight their lips may be

Because they’re scared of being known by people like thee

By people who will curse them or try to cut them down

By people who are monsters, who say they’re only clowning around

But words do cut us deeply and hurt us every day

So stop with your judgements and leave people alone today

For if you want peace on earth, enjoy the variety

Of other peoples looks and thoughts and relish in niceties

All it takes is a kind word, whether you’re telling the truth or not

If you think unkind things about others, then you should simply rot

You’re missing out on good friends by being the way you are

You’re a shallow hollow person who lives for repertoires

 

 

 

 

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psychotic sleuth

The trouble I’ve gone to please you

The pain you’ve made inside

The burden you’ve made me carry

Yet you took it in your stride

To make things always bad for me

You always wanted that

It was to keep me docile and near you

You even made me fat

You couldn’t stand knowing

That I was getting free

You tried to destroy my confidence

You wouldn’t let me be

Now I’ve gone away from you

You still cry your battle cries

I don’t think you will be happy

Until the day I die

Yet you always said you loved me

But that couldn’t be further from the truth

These days although I’ve left you

You are quite the psychotic sleuth

I don’t know why you haunt me

Hound me and stick around

But I hope someday you’ll find help

So I’m no longer housebound

 

 

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Saying farewell to your past

Sometimes you’ve just got to abandon all that you once knew

It is better that way, don’t let things stew

If people bring you down, whether they’re family or not

Then you are better off without them, or else your life will rot

They zap out all your energy

They throw away your years

And even worse than that, they fill your days with tears

Guess what?  You’ll be strong without them

Your life will see better days

You can do anything

Without their criticizing malaise

Go ahead and you’ll see

New friendships will occur

Just dust yourself down and say farewell

To your past and your wreckers

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For you are not perfect, I say

A tragedy is when humanity has lost its compassion for its fellow man

To cause him grief whenever you can

To comment of how he looks and lives

Yet you know him not

How can you do this, will you stop?

You are tearing lives apart by words

You have the voice of cowards

If things were turned and you were scorned for how you looked today

How would you feel when you get home, after you’ve walked away?

For you are not perfect, I say

It isn’t a laugh when you’ve said those things about a person’s weight

It isn’t funny when you’ve hurt your classmate

For her scars

For her red hair

It doesn’t matter, but you should care

A joke is not the excuse for causing her despair

Stop this hatred, stop it soon

Or someday judgment will bring your doom

I’m not talking religion here, but someday nasty words you’ll hear

And it won’t be you who is giving them

It will be another who’s chosen you to condemn

You are not perfect I say, but what you have now; let’s hope you keep it, hey?

For you never know what might happen

An accident to your face may rapine

I give you no threats but a warning

Don’t monish peoples adorning

For you are not perfect, I say.

 

 

 

 

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