Tag Archives: mental health

Apologies for poor endorsements

I do not like being used as a tool to promote hate and anger in other people; I do whatever I can to decrease discrimination of all kinds and to promote a safe environment worldwide for future generations;  with that said, I am angry at the behaviour of certain people I have endorsed in the past – I endorse people I feel have talent and who seem to have the same values as I do, but it seems that once someone has a taste of social media success and has gained confidence in their skills, they also seem to have more confidence in showing their true colours and sometimes, unfortunately, those colours are muddy!

If someone endorses your skills on social media, please do them a service and try not to embarrass them in turn!  I am deeply embarrassed that some people recently I have endorsed are actually starting to spread political hate and discomfort in other people I support and the world in general.  This is not just a post about political hate, but also the fact that some of the people I have endorsed have downright copied other followers art and poetry so closely, that it is almost indistinguishable from the originator. 

Please don’t do this, not only are you stealing from other creatives, but you are also shooting yourself in the foot as far as advancing yourself in your career goes.

I want to apologise to my followers right now, for the behaviour of the people I have previously endorsed but then again, it isn’t my fault they decided to say or do the things that they have done.  I understand to a handful of people they have seen a connection with certain people and it has linked back to me and although some of you know that I haven’t copied work nor said any hateful thing, you have noted the association and regarded me with slight caution and rightly so.  Because, they were people I endorsed and therefore must trust in some way.  But I can tell you now, it is making me less inclined to endorse people in the future as I do not like to become embarrassed.

Things like this can affect the mental well-being of people who are highly empathic and I am one of these people, I have had a bad three days regarding my mental health, ever since I found that someone I have recently endorsed is promoting unsafe ideologies and hateful political propaganda.  It has literally churned my stomach, because there has been a significant increase in traffic to their sites since I endorsed them – some of my friends couldn’t believe their ears when they heard the things this woman was saying and thought it reflective of my own views, which I can assure you all now, are not! 

The fact of some followers on social media copying other followers has been a problem for the past two years in particular, but that is something that affects everyone!  It is still hard to tolerate and understand that some of these unoriginal artists are stealing original art and causing so much stress to the ones they steal from – it is embarrassing when someone connects to you only to use you as a tool to steal from your friends. 

It not only damages the reputation of the art thief, but the people that they have connected with as well and that is not fair!

I am not a snob by any means, but I do have high standards of ethics and propriety and I expect the people I help to be the same.

Happy reading everybody!

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What is my secret?

There is a new category I have created today, called “Diary”.

This is not going to be updated daily, but will be as often as I can.

You will find out more about me and my life day to day, it will mostly focus on my mental  and general health more than anything else.

Why am I doing this?

To be honest I have no one to get certain things off my chest to, plus, I want people to understand mental health better, not just mine, but how it affects a person who lives with it as a whole – their ups and their downs and what helps them when they are this way and what things can make them worse!

I also want to show you how my mental well-being affects productivity. Sometimes I throw myself into my work and other times my mental problems make me hate my work altogether and the mere idea of writing anything just makes me cry.

This is not because I hate writing or I feel that my writing is failing in anyway – one thing I have kept to myself, one big mystery that people are trying to understand about me and I have never been open about before TO ANYONE until now – it’s like a coming out, but I have a personality disorder.

Yes, people know I have mental health problems, but I have always leant to telling them it was mostly anxiety and recovering from toxic relationships from my past, this is true!  But not the whole story!

I have a personality disorder, a type of schizophrenia, I have anxieties, body dysmorphia, eating disorders that are erratic from gluttonous to starvation, and it depends day to day!  I am severely co-dependant – suicidal – manic depressive – there is a lot to know about me.  Day to day I even change my whole personality, what do I mean by that? 

Well I consider myself bisexual, I mostly love being female and trying to be as feminine as possible, but some days I wake up and I want to cut my hair short and dress like a man, I feel more masculine at times, then I regret my decisions and go back into dark thoughts, because the mostly feminine me is back again.  I don’t have the money and the resources to change the way I look dramatically day to day to match my fleeting desires.  If I ever won the lottery it would be so much easier to just say, cut my hair, but a ton of wigs and buy all styles of clothes I love, just in case I wake up wanting to be like that tomorrow. 

I don’t really know what this disorder is called, if it is a disorder at all, because although I have had therapists in the past for other things, I generally try to avoid any psychological help as much as possible, because I don’t want to be pumped full up with drugs.  Various therapists in my past have suggested oodles of medication for me and I have refused – only to have them look me stark in the eyes and say, that if I actually do harm myself or another person to hospitalisation, then I will have the choice taken away from me!

I do self-harm, but not enough to become hospitalised… yet.

There are times where I am super social and I love being around people, but occasionally, though it is not that often, I just want to shut myself away and completely ignore the world.  There have been times where I have been so used to living in a forced isolation (by toxic relationships in my past) that self-isolation comes so easily and I don’t fall apart like other people do when I do it. 

I am also a germ-o-phobe, because of this, I am terrified to go out since Covid happened, because I have had pneumonia five times in around four years or something like that.  I have only gone out six times since March 2020, to a doctor, a vet and the dentist.

All of this is the primary reason why I have not approached publishers and agents yet.

I will do so eventually and this is not idle talk, because I have a couple of good online friends who really believe in me and they are trying to teach me how I can become a published author, without being thrown too much into the deep end, because of both my disabilities and mental health problems – people who are actually within the profession themselves.  Whether they will stay true to their word, who knows?

But this is the big mystery about me.

Not much of a mystery now is it?  Just a revelation about just how sick I really am.

This is why at times my posts can seem very flighty – I find it easy to control at times how I behave around people, but it is all too easy to be spontaneous at times and post things without thinking about it first. 

Most of the subjects I talk about are very controversial and I have never really learned how to behave and react around certain subjects, purely because I have been socially isolated my whole life.  I am not using this as an excuse; I am telling it how it is.

I am a person who can seem heartless and blunt in certain subjects at times.  I am one of these people that when I am in social situations I am often put into a situation where I have put my foot in it again – I tend to leave early and beat myself up over it for months!  Some people are very forgiving and understand and have told me not to worry, but still, months down the line I am still punishing myself for my stupidity.

I’m not a loose cannon in the sense that I am overly insensitive and gun ho – but I am in regards to not thinking about how sensitive a subject can be for others.

Yes, this is an indication about my recent poll on here that I have now deleted.  But I had hoped that the poll would spur on a friendly discussion about why such subjects pertaining to “suicide” as a theme for a book was so controversial and disgusting to readers and publishers, when someone like me who struggles with such a thing day in and day out finds reading characters who are suicidal, helpful in my own problems.  I need the world to try and come out of their little boxes and help me understand society, because I have been shut away my whole life!

Is this so difficult to understand?

Is the concept of a person staying inside their house day in and day out and not socialising much their whole life offline –  so alien to so many people that they cannot even empathise with the stuff that a person who has lived in such conditions haven’t experienced or learned to become?

What I mean is – when a person has been socially isolated their whole lives, they have never had the opportunity to learn from their mistakes as a child; to grow with a society and understand the rules that others take for granted.

I am in that situation, have been my whole life and I tell you now; I am puzzled by how “normal people” are and how they behave.  I am puzzled by how society has progressed how it has, because whenever I have smiled at someone in a waiting room, they look at me nervously and back away, whenever I start a general conversation in a queue at a shop I am ignored or get a sarcastic remark as a reply!  When I used to go to the school gates to take my son to school, most parents couldn’t be bothered to talk to me, but would talk in their small circles instead.  I am confused how people have friends outside of their families basically, when in my experience, nobody wants to talk to a stranger!

How the fuck does society do it?

I am never rude, I am never gross, I always start with open ended questions, like self-help socialisation books tell me to, I never pry with personal questions.

I hate to say it and I could lose what little friends I have over this, but the only people who have maintain contact with me when I have done this are people with social awkwardness themselves who are more than thrilled someone has spoken to them first hand and they didn’t have to approach me first!

Out of desperation they invite me to theirs for a cup of tea, or in some cases a mutual café or library meets up, before introducing each other to our homes.  I understand them, I feel the same when someone approaches me – I feel honoured someone wants to talk to me, oh my goodness, someone has spoken to me, try not to screw this moment up Tina and say yes to anything they suggest if it sounds nice!

I know I sound like a sad pathetic moron, but people need to understand how it is for some people.  It is hard enough when you have social anxiety and mental health problems as it is, but when you throw in thirty three years of social isolation, it is unbearable!

Especially when you do socialise with people who have nothing better to do than to try and ruin your life, wreck your reputation before you’ve even got one and is just downright bloody nasty and manipulative to boot!

Because of my mental health and my lack of social hardiness, I have found some very rotten people who have introduced themselves into my lives more than readily in order to manipulate me for their own pleasure and amusement and in turn, it has damaged me more and more.

So this is the mystery of The Tardy Creative, Tina Victoria Cousins.

This is who I am, in my rawest form and these are my challenges I am sharing with you!

Happy reading! 

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The irony of darkness

Yeah, as I know suffering I walk in the shadows of the valley of death

I fear no evil, for with them I have coalesced

I have sold my soul and without shame

I will never feel the light, not ever again

My dignity outstanding though my soul may burn

A freedom is wanted, no it is earned

A freedom of the stress of being pure

Of being a good one I cannot endure

A life of passion and greed without shame

I turned from the light but am I to blame?

I happy here in the darkness I dwell

Don’t try to save me – that would be Hell!

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Why are only aliens nice?

I feel like an alien in this world as I am in a constant state of confusion.

Everything puzzles me. 

I feel lost and very lonely most of the time and before you think, you should know this is not a poem.

This is a post of statements of how I currently feel.

There are days when I feel like I have stepped into a groundhog day, I am sure I have done this day before?  There are days when I wake up and I am sure that it is Friday, but it isn’t it is actually only Wednesday.

I have an understanding of how the world should be, but I am not an oppressive, I love the individuality of everyone I meet, but it can be hard when I think that what I do is right and proper and I have people gawp at me as though I am some kind of purple spotted beast who just farted in their faces!

Yet all I did was, what I thought was any common decent thing to do – please may you pass the salt?  Maybe the people I generally spend time with are not used to manners like that?  I don’t know, but they make me feel like I am a strange and complicated thing.

I dare to be polite to serving staff at cafes and do small talk with them, how dare I… the staff don’t react badly to it, but other customers and those who are with me at my table seem to think there is something odd about that.  “Do you know them”?  They ask almost accusingly – “No”, I reply.  Most strange isn’t it? Apparently so!

I have had some friends who are on the same wavelength as me and they appreciate this personality in me and they have suggested what they call another cropping of my contacts!  I shouldn’t feel alienated by being polite or simply just conversational and friendly – but people like me seem to be a minority and it is getting worse as years go on.

The people at your local supermarket and those who serve you green tea at the café and the teacher at your child’s school are people, they are not machines, you can be nice to them you know?  It would make the world a better place to do so, would change the way humanity progresses… try it!

Be nice, you never know, you might enjoy the outcome!

Happy reading!

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To pants or not to pants that is the question…

“I don’t think I really want to wait for NaNoWriMo to start this new story idea, but would it be considered cheating if I started this early?”

This was posted on my twitter @CreativeTardy yesterday and I can only imagine my friends sitting there staring at their screens in disbelief shouting “oh, for fucks sake, just start, will you!”

Well, you see, I have never been one for breaking the rules… well… certain rules.

“Bloody Hell, what rules?  Fuck rules! Just get on with it, creativity has no blooming rules”! 

OK, tone down the language please.  No these are not real actual replies on twitter… but, I do know there are friends who talk like this to me from time to time in private.

I frustrate them no end, I can see that it takes a lot for the poor dears not to slap me one when I get like this!

 Usually I plan my stories a little.  I have certain ideas about what I would like to include in the story and the types of characters even if I have no idea of the direction of the book, I usually have some sort of idea about some of the future of the story before I write it – sometimes I don’t know how the stories end, sometimes I don’t know the middle but I know its beginning and end.  I don’t usually pants it, as the NaNoWriMo vernacular goes, I am or was a planner.

I am thinking this new story idea called Dragon 2 will be totally and completely pantsed, but I am fighting against it at the same time.

I am, in my personal life, a little bit of a control freak – I don’t like micromanaging people, I am not that type of control freak, but I like things organised and simplified in my own personal life and I don’t like surprises!  I am prone to panic attacks when surprises jump out at me, my brother often described me to his friends as the “rabbit in headlights”.  I am the sort of annoying person who always asks for reassurance and a reminder of what to expect at certain events and so on and Paul has a lot of patience with me as he tells me for the fifth time that day that it will assuredly be such and such.  I am only like this in certain things, not everything.  I am not constantly like this throughout my life, just things that could potentially… terrify me. 

Funnily enough, I am not somebody who suffers from stage fright or being surrounded by large groups of people, especially people I know even a little bit.  I am not like that.  I am more likely to be jittery around small circles of people I hardly know or never met and I am more likely to be this way around my birthday, Christmas, parties hosted by other people I don’t know well or anything regarding health… occasionally I can be like this when food shopping, I don’t like being around small groups of strangers alone, at all.

Never really understood why – but Paul reckons it has a lot to do with things that have happened in my past with my mother.  My mother is usually antagonistic with strangers especially if she feels there are no witnesses to dispute what happened!  She often dragged me along with her for whatever ride she hoped to have from the event she caused.

I like to be organised – artist friends are astounded at how neat my areas are when they used to visit, how as I painted I would wipe up spills and go back and forth from the kitchen cleaning the water jars I used as I did my work.

Reader friends who note my bookshelves look twice at my shelves and cannot believe that my books are in genre and alphabetical order and that I had at the time eleven bookcases around the house, now I have twelve.

I also have around thirty box files all with different genre story ideas, poems, research files etc., those are not in order at the moment because I am struggling for space and that is damaging my mental health no end, the torment knowing that those are not in order when everything else is – it makes my writing work very hard!

They mostly reside on the upstairs landing balancing on our very wide bannister at the top, that acts like a half wall and guests who use our bathroom sometimes sheepishly quiz us on why there is a box marked vampires and another marked dragons by the bathroom door?

One such visitor joked that they thought perhaps I was some kind of cryptozoologist as a secret life.

No, but it would be interesting…

I know I was a pantser before 2006, but I was told that planning is key, strangely enough my writing habits have been declining slowly ever since! So I became a planner, I know being a pantser should be as easy as it was in the past, but I don’t really know anymore.

Anyway, back to the NaNoWriMo story – I would like to start in a few days’ time, but at the moment I am trying to decide whether I should plan the characters and some of the scenes now or let it flow naturally?

Paul suggests naturally – but I have never worked that way before… I have had a lot of dreams regarding this book; a lot of the dreams suggest it will be very successful if only…

Happy reading!

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Demonic Orchestra

I miss composing music, but there is no space to set up my equipment amongst other things – I lost Cubase around ten years ago and I can’t afford to replace it.  I have learned in the past two years how to read music, but I am still not au fait with it to the point of any real confidence. 

In the past few weeks I have wanted to compose music more than anything because my mind is literally torturing me with tunes and songs that need to be made – particularly instrumental music.

It’s getting very loud in my mind and there is nothing I can do about it right now.

I love instrumentals and the kind of music that is in my head is tango music, circus waltzes and similar sounds to my biggest musical inspirations Nox Arcana and B&B Project!

I did do composition for rock music and alternative too, but it is mostly classical or instrumental for me really.

I have four tunes that keep repeating themselves in my head and they do so at length and they get excessively loud at times and give me really bad headaches because I am ignoring them.  It is exhausting to hear it, it tires me out and it comes to me mostly when I am in bed trying to get to sleep – that’s when it is their loudest!

What is even more annoying is the visuals I get when this happens – I don’t mean real visuals, nothing like hallucinations or anything like that, no – what I mean is, the scenery in which the music wants to be played.  The music seems to demand being played in my stories, as parts of movies or something, it shows me what must happen for the perfect habitat for my music to reside.

I sometimes wonder if I am crazy…

“A perfect habitat for my music to reside”, that’s crazy talk right?

My compositions are like living breathing demons, well, if you heard the music and saw the imagery, you’d wonder if they were demons too…

The music that wants to be born in recent weeks sound like Halloween background music for Halloween waltzes or tangoes… it’s not something you’d usually hear at say The BBC Proms.  Instruments such as the accordion, bandura and violin lead the music here. 

Some of the music sound like a demonic nursery lullabies or music boxes, instruments such as glockenspiels, glass harps and glass bells lead the orchestra.  This tune in particular has decided to set its scene in my horror story which you’ll know as boat 1, this story is about ghost children.

I need to compose again, I need these tunes to be heard, but it’s difficult right now.  So I guess, I will let the demonic orchestra from Hell send me mad then?

It perhaps would be fun to do collaboration with other horror writers about a musician being sent mad by demonic music that he must compose; a sort of musical Arabian nights meets the devil! 

Stop, no more ideas brain, please, I am drowning in ideas!

Maybe this is the devil’s idea for a certain writer? 

Happy reading!

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It’s my birthday and I hope for better things!

It is my birthday today I am thirty nine and I hope that the saying “life begins at forty” is a true one!  I hope so much that with these emergency appointments I have at the hospital etc. is going to fix something and that I can have a normal life again!

There are so many things I want to do with my life, but when it is a tiring task to just get dressed and maybe vacuum a room in a day at most, it is hard to see past that.

Things I would love to do if only the health was there… obvious one would be study and work outside of the house.  I miss people interaction and I love jobs where I am in the service of others, not just my creative pursuits, of course I love my creativity and it would be lovely to have a job where creativity is a must, but generally I love jobs where I feel I am needed and relied upon for things – particularly hospitality.  I am a lovely meet and greeter, always happy to help, with a bubbly personality, professional manner and experience as head of admin and customer services. 

I often wonder if Sue Holderness remembers me, during my short time as Christmas staff at Marks & Spencer’s she would always gravitate towards my till because she said I was pleasant and she often added points to my services as Marks and Spencer’s have a point system in play for their staff to see who is performing well.  I was only there for a few days over one particular Christmas; I doubt she’d remember me!

I used to love work and if I had been allowed to keep my jobs in the past I would have.  It sounds funny to say that, because it is not a normal thing to say – but it is true, in the past many times I had a lovely job I loved dearly, but I was forced to give it up as it didn’t sit well with my mother.  For those who are new to my blog, I was micro-managed within an inch of my life by my mother who tried to isolate me for years and I only managed to get her out of my life fully in 2013, when I was twenty nine, just shortly after Henry’s 3rd birthday in fact.

Thinking differently these days, I may not go into hospitality if I had the health back though, I have other ideas.  I am not sure if starting university for a science degree and to have a science career would be something someone my age should really consider.  But it is interesting; I have an unnatural curiosity and obsession with microbiomes; but maybe that is more of a hobby thing… like gardening?

I had thought, what I would do if I found out my health problems are actually curable even if it is by 50% – I had thought what would I do with my life now?

Obviously still write and do art, but what else? 

I had thought about the concept that my lungs may allow me to once again do music and singing again and if it did, I have to say musical theatre pulls me;  Particularly writing operas or comedy musicals for the stage.  One of the things I have neglected about myself a lot since becoming ill is my love for music to the extent of practising my instruments and composing becoming non-existent.

I miss musical composition more than I miss the idea of sitting down to write a full length novel, to be honest… well a full length non-vampire or dragon novel that is.

I do know I miss sport a lot too, I was very active before getting sick – walking an average of nine miles per day, just for the fun of it and also because I am a cheapskate and walked everywhere for the sheer economy of it.  I love bowling, basketball, jogging, and cricket and wanted to take up rock climbing, to name but a few.  But one thing I did really want to get back into and that is dog agility training and judo.  I am also a true water baby and twice I nearly got into the commonwealth games in my life, once for swimming and once for judo, but shit happens.

The commonwealth audition was cancelled due to emergency life-saving mastoid surgery, which consequently ended my judo career before it even had a chance!

The swimming for the junior games was cancelled because my mother wouldn’t let me go and stay the night away from home without her and made me decline.

I know I have to think about practical things, but I do like working for charities, at least half of my previous jobs were helping disabled people, particularly those with mental learning difficulties or brain injuries.  I have a passion for helping people and fighting for their rights to lead a dignified life!

I have been in a situation myself where I have been in special needs schools for a few months in between home schooling, I also have a long history of mental health where for four years I had to go to a day care centre at Napsbury hospital for treatment as a child and schooling as well as being in a very physically vulnerable state with sensory deprivation for nearly two whole years!  I have seen two sides of people who are supposed to be “carers, in caring jobs” and it is not all good.

I went through a time as a child where I was absolutely terrified of all men, except male relatives who were close to me, I wouldn’t speak to anyone if they were a stranger for at least ten or more visits and I went into strange bouts of bulimia, anorexia and compulsive eating throughout most of my life – this cooled off a lot when I met Paul.  I was spiralling into food obsession for three years before I met him.

It is totally weird how, now I am away from the stresses which dictated my eating habits, that I have developed a sickness where I can’t eat a bunch of specific foods without pain and vomiting and some people who remember my past, have asked me on the quiet, “it’s not your old thing again is it”?  I still maintain some friendships distantly via facebook and pen palling with some of my day care compatriots, who remembers a the time where I ate half an orange and a quarter of a cheese sandwich without rushing to the bathroom and they celebrated it for me, whilst I just sat there frowning and grimacing at the fuss and the taste.

I will say though, that I am becoming more and more of a picky eater despite the dietary restrictions I am under because of my intolerances.  This does worry Paul, because with our current budget, he is struggling to provide for me.

I must maintain a gluten free and lactose free diet, I cannot eat flax seeds, I can’t have too much sugar in a day, I minimise citrus fruits, I can’t have soy, I can’t have vinegar unless I want pain (who does?), I may have a mustard intolerance as recently I am reacting against mayo and a couple of other sauces which have mustard in, I can’t have pineapple and I can’t have anything too fatty and if it is fatty it has to be because of olive oil, I must be careful with eggs, no more than 3 times a week!  I can’t have too much coconut produce either; I can only eat small amounts of beef and no more than twice a week!  I shouldn’t have tomatoes everyday either, but that one is a hard one to surrender as I like tomatoes almost with everything!  But ideally I should never have them according to doctors.  I can only have two Brazil nuts in one sitting before strange things happen to my mouth! I can only have a beverage with tannin no more than once per day and preferably not at night. So, yes, I am not fussy about all of these, this is just the foods I can’t have because my body will hurt me a lot if I do!  Because of all of this, I have according to the doctor a very low salt diet, because I don’t add salt to my cooking and he told me I need to start, because my levels are too low at times and could account for the cramps I get!

So, as perplexed as you all are, I know you are, because I have seen the faces of offline friends when I mention this to them – what the fuck do you actually eat then Tina?  Food, to put it bluntly, proper, wholesome, mostly unprocessed food, weird isn’t it?

It’s the reason I love sauerkraut so much, the salt my body needs, the cabbage is really good for you too and you get added microbes for your gut!  Ironically, my health is slightly improved for the gherkins (dill pickles) and sauerkraut I eat these days, without that being in my diet three times a week, I would actually be a lot sicker!  I know, I tested it out for a whole month and it thwacked me hard!

I think the unhealthiest thing I eat these days is the local chippy once a fortnight, because I don’t eat their battered fish, I prefer their kebabs without the bread that is!  They have their own oily sauerkraut with gherkins and pickled jalapenos and its sheer heaven with their homemade chilli sauce!  Their meat is also homemade, so they guarantee it has no gluten and lactose and they don’t spice it as much as the places in town, so it’s just like fatty lamb pates really.

My most usual food to eat for dinner is gluten free pasta with homemade chicken arribiata, pan fried salmon stir fry or sausage and bean casserole with mashed potatoes.

My most usual food for lunch is, fried tomatoes and mushrooms with gluten free toast, a smoothie, vegetable frittata, or Ham & lacto free cheddar cheese ploughman’s sandwich with gluten free bread, I know the sweet pickle has a bad product for me, but it is so little my body hardly notices too much.   I don’t have celiac disease apparently, it is an unidentified IBD.

My most usual breakfast is, air, or very rarely cinnamon gluten free porridge or just homemade fruit salad.

My snacks are nuts, celery, carrot sticks, lactose free Nutella with gluten free digestive biscuits or rice cakes, pancakes with said Nutella or lemons or honey or maple syrup or fruit compotes, fruit, or smoothies, rarely jellied pick n mix and crisps purely for the low salt days. 

When finances improve, I am excited to ditch a lot of the above for things I really love!  Such as honey nuts, dark chocolate with fruit in, fruit leathers, chicken legs, kimchi, , king prawns and the expensive fruits and veg like avocadoes, coconuts, pomegranates, figs, chickpeas, mange tout, things someone on my budget consider birthday or Christmas treats!

Well it’s a life I hope that will happen anyhow, I am trying my best to fight through it all and get that life, even if my body does seem held bent on killing me!

Happy reading!

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No dreamtime respite

I used to look forward to going into dream time because it was a respite from the harsh realities I have to live with; but in recent months, sometimes my dreams are worse than reality.

It seems as though everything in dream time is hyped up into showing me my worst fears or accentuating my deepest worries into something more sinister.

I used to have nightmares like this all the time right up until I was 19, then they faded until only last summer.

Usually the dreams would be symbolic to the problems I was facing in real life, these days, those very problems are very clear and prominent in dream time, and they are no longer hiding in the facades of monsters and giant aggressive animals like when I was a child.  They are for what they are, the people I have the problems with and with the exact concerns I have cropping up into my dream time every single night.

There doesn’t seem to be a safety place anymore, it is gone, dream time was my safe place and it’s betrayed me.

Only last night I dreamt that a person I have problems with in real life, was there, we moved house, but a worse neighbour was waiting for me at that new house, so we decided to move back to our old house.  So, it seemed in this dream that whenever we tried to go back to the less worse problem we would arrive at a cul-de-sac where worse problems and scenarios were turning up to ruin my plans.  Every movement made the whole thing worse at every turn.

Though we are planning to move house when the money to do so comes, we are still keeping the house in a trust for Henry my son.  Henry wants to keep this house in the family, because it has been a part of his father’s family for 64yrs and Henry loves his ancestry and is currently doing a big project at home about his family tree to show his school at the end of the year.  This project was not prompted by his school; this is just something Henry wants to do.

One thing is clear though, I no longer feel there is privacy or safety within my own home anymore; especially when the neighbour causing problems is leaving ladders out in the front garden overnight and won’t listen to Paul when he suggests that maybe not a safe thing to do?

What makes it a whole lot worse is I had insomnia before he became a problem, now I just fear to sleep at all now, hence why I do nothing anymore, no energy!

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The art of indifference

Struggling with depression on a major scale in the past four days, it could either be because of my immune system crashing around me, my hormones or the fact that there is something I miss deeply and no one understands.  I am desperate to express myself on this matter, but I can’t without coming across as nuts, so I don’t bother.

No one understands the kind of person that I am, I have tried in the past to talk it through with other people, but let me tell you, there is only so much another person’s mind can take, before they switch off and decide perhaps you’re too messed up to talk to again?

Yet to me the only thing that remains abundantly clear to me and would be very healing to me is this… just talking freely with a non-judgemental person, whilst snuggling with said person and being loved, genuinely loved, without obligations for anything other than my reciprocation to them.

The kind of person I am, the liberal-mindedness that I have as well as my spirituality makes me a difficult person to befriend. 

The notion that I see everyone as family, but will avoid certain people if they make me feel supressed or judged in any way, is something that some people find hard. 

The fact that I believe in open relationships and I am bisexual and I am quite open about my likes as dislikes as I am not ashamed of who I am, so why should others be?

 The fact that I am both a humanist and a spiritual person; which cannot really describe my beliefs as I am my own unique mix: 

The idea too that I am healing from a huge mass of abuse and hiding a truly awful history and only tell people the thin surface of my life via getting in touch with my inner child and creative self, which means to onlookers think I am an irresponsible weird, immature, Pollyanna who is a tad too spooky for their liking. 

The idea I grow and eat weeds in my garden and let most of my garden be wild and talk to the wildlife that I come across as freely as any child. 

The idea that I get hyperactive after consuming candies and I react like any high child would!

The fact that I get so absorbed by my own imagination and blocking out the bad stuff in my mind from the past with fantasy after fantasy, to the extent I lose track of time and sometimes forget how old I am. 

All of this… is hard for other people. 

Which I find ironic, because I have actually lived through harder things that just listening and observing someone healing themselves!  It’s quite funny really, that people have the audacity to tell me, that they find my life too hard for them, that they have to leave.  Don’t they realise that in order to heal and be better, they need someone to care, but someone who can be impartial, just a listener, just a support with kind words and affirmations.  That just sharing who you are as raw as possible, should build such a strong friendship, a bond to last?  It’s not someone trying to offload their burden onto your shoulders, that is impossible, you could never feel as bad as that person feels, because your experiences are different! 

Until those moments, a lot of those people in my past were very nearly, very close friends with me.  But they, like everyone, wants to know you more and want to pry into your secrets, but then they run away when once they know the true past you’ve hidden from them!  My past is not criminal, my past is not the past of a junkie or a drunk or an abuser of any sort, my past is the past of a victim.  That is all.  I could understand if my personal past was more sordid, but it’s not, that’s what baffles me the most! 

I often want to shout at people who decide they can’t cope with what they know about me to the extent they can’t look at me anymore, but I don’t because I am very passive by nature.  I am very accepting that nobody really cares and I am alone on an emotional level in the world and perhaps always will be.

I want to shout out “Well what about me?  I can’t do that, gee thanks for leaving me to cope on my own then, you coward”!  Who needs friends like those anyways?

Then there are those who say they would stick around, if only I cried.  It’s the fact that I don’t cry that gets people thinking it’s a lie.  They don’t consider that showing emotions and crying is actually extremely bad in my family and that being an emotional person is beaten out of you!  You are around violence so much that you learn when someone shouts at you, that you don’t take their eyes off them a moment, you stare unblinking at them and don’t show emotion, because it could be dangerous if you did.  Much better to switch everything off whilst staying fully alert at all times! 

So, because I don’t cry, they think I lie. 

It is this reason that I find it hard to truly heal, even therapists have had to give up my case because they too, couldn’t cope and they were in tears, whereas I was passing them the tissues with dry eyes unmoved by them!

Ironic

This is why I often dream of suicide, dream of starting again.

But I am terrified.

Because if life is a lesson that I have to learn before I am allowed better things, then do I have to live through all of this again in another life?  Hell no!

I can’t!

My soul will surely self-destruct if that were true!

Thing is, I do cry.  I cry all the time, alone in my bed when no one is around.  I cry alone in the spare room, if it is night time, because its ingrained into me, no one should see you being weak, not ever, not no how!

Happy Reading I suppose, I wasn’t happy writing this and felt I should delete it, but who knows, maybe you’ll care?

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Mental health update 26th May 2021

The thing about mental illness is that it grabs you and sometimes even the sufferer doesn’t even know why or what caused them to cry at that precise moment.  I have been having times like this a lot over the last few weeks, but in the past couple of days in particular it has been really a big struggle.

For the first time in almost two years the suicidal thoughts have come back, but along with this is a reasoning thought, that if I were to try and commit suicide right now, I am likely to be saved and therefore my life would be worse to live in the aftermath because of whatever damage the attempt may have done to me, I would then have to live with along with everything I am trying to escape from.  I am already under scrutinised watch, because of my past breakdown a few years back, so it is quite probable, that I will be saved – whether I like it or not.

I am in the situation that I know why I feel this way, but I really don’t have anyone to talk to who is not going to be conflictive with me about those matters to talk it through with.  I am too deaf to use a telephone helpline and I don’t really have enough privacy to talk about matters online.  I barely have the privacy to type this here now.

Well, Paul knows how I feel, but he is painfully irritating with his responses and usually end up making me feel worse, he isn’t the sort of person you can rely on for too much emotional bolstering or betterment.  He knows I think this way about him, and yes, it does put a strain on our relationship – especially as I try and tell him that he shouldn’t feel emotionally responsible for me despite this.  But he always proclaims that he does anyway and how could he not? 

He is in denial of his own depression, I know this, because instead of trying to help me see the Brightside of life or help me take my mind off things, he is one of these people who will wallow with me and we both sit there in our pit of despair, talking ever deeper and concentrating ever more on the crap that’s in our lives – that’s not a place of healing.  Alternatively on his more positive days, as he does have them occasionally, he will talk to me about stupid dreams of “if we win the lottery” or “if we built our dream house”, those conversations helps him in his dark times, those dreams, but it just makes me a whole lot worse!  There are times and I am sure he knows it by the looks I give him, that when he talks of me of those big pie in the sky dreams, that I just want to take those dreams he talks about and shove them down his throat.  Because, who wants to be reminded of things that are unreachable when you are in a time of struggle?

My problems are not primarily financial, that is something he can’t get his head around, I think.

My main focus is the lack of love, the lack of attention, friendship and family.  I am also very sick and I am tired of that, I am tired of constant pain, constant illness and no one to sit there and snuggle with me for more than just five minutes a time, because no one has the time.  No one has the time for me.

I talk about this to Paul, but he is so exhausted all of the time and struggling with his own injuries and pain as he is my main carer and Henry’s main carer and the household carer, that when I do talk to him, within twenty minutes he has literally fallen asleep during our conversation and wakes up with a jerk when I probe him about it.

I know I am a selfish cuss, because he struggles to balance everything for me, but he really could help himself a lot more by communicating with people who are willing to help him, but he doesn’t.  He just plods along doing all of this and coping with all of this on his own and I do literally nothing.

He is 27yrs my senior, I am terrified of how I will live if he dies.  That’s how selfish I am.  I do love the fellow, I do, but I am shit scared of what will I do if he goes?

I can’t do a thing for myself these days, on an emotional and mental health level I could barely anyway, but now the body is falling apart, I can barely even cook for myself these days.

We have no one.  We only have two adult nephews who visit once or twice a year and that is all.  We have nobody, not even a reprieve of a friend who’ll come to tea anymore.  Not since I have got too sick to reciprocate and Covid has made socialising with professional’s non-existent now.

I am ultimately desperate for two things, to move out of this house into a house that is not riddled with rising damp and holes in the roof and the ceiling literally falling apart in some rooms and I am desperate for more love and attention, especially long snuggles!

Oh I could add a third, to have a decent allergen free diet on a consistent basis, not having 2 weeks of feast and 2 weeks of famine in every month, which is how we live now.  Well, I say we, Paul and Henry eat properly, I don’t, because I am the one with the intolerances.  Gluten, lactose and occasionally egg, flax, pineapple and a few others; Gluten free foods are fine if they don’t contain flax, but most do.  My body can’t cope with chocolate more than once a week either, or beef and my body can’t cope with a high fat diet, which makes things very difficult on a diet front these days.

When I went through a phase of anorexia as a teenager, I actually ate more then that I do on the famine weeks in the month and that scares Paul, but the doctors don’t batter an eyelid.  I am still overweight you see and I am nearly a woman in her 40s.  They don’t take the food problem seriously – if I had been 8 stone, maybe they would!

Yesterday all I had eaten up until 5:35pm (the time I am writing this post) is 1 slice of gluten toast (because we are struggling with finding decent gluten free locally in the past few weeks) and 3 slices of bacon.  Later I will have a cereal bowl size of tuna pasta with new potatoes and herbs; the pasta is at least gluten free.  Because of the toast today, it will mean tomorrow I will wake up coughing up phlegm for an hour and my asthma and blood pressure will be bad.  But I needed quick food; I was feeling light-headed, shivery and headachy.

The food wasn’t ideal and I feel sick since, but I was hungry.

Anyway, this is just another bad day for me and I needed to get it off my chest.

Maybe tomorrow will be different?

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