Friends indeed

The strange gift that comes with having crumbled is that one becomes far more aware of the signs in others, and you recognise those who have come through the other side.


I have a very good friend who is coming apart at the seams. Sadly, in the process she is alienating all of the people who could and have supported her this far. They only see the bad behaviour, the selfish ramblings and cancellations. Three of us, thanks to bitter experience, see her differently.

She lives at the other end of the county, so talking seriously isn't easy. When I saw her last I did let her know I had been worried about her. She brushed it off, saying that our last meeting had just been on a bad day. End of conversation. I wonder what I would have done if a friend had suggested to me a year ago that I wasn't ok and that perhaps I needed support? I imagine I would have said that I was fine, just tired. I would have been a bit angry, and denied they were right. Brave face and proud.

I want to do something but am a bit lost. Watching her fall to pieces is hard and logic seems to have gone from her relationships with friends, family or otherwise. She is alienating those close to her. She does not see it. We have spent many hours trying to think of what to do or say. She is prone to exploding and blaming. She will not let us be the friends she needs.

Perhaps the only option is to stay present and be there to catch her when she finally falls. She will fall hard.

Restless nights

For one reason or other I'd kind of let this slip for a while, but sharing it has reminded me why I started out in the first place, and has got me thinking again. Odd how small conversations can lead into a chain of thoughts.

How many millions like me are there out there? How many blogs and the words that they contain? I am fascinated by what people choose to share anonymously, publiclay shout about or quietly record whether read or not. One thing I do know is that writing these things, any things, helps me focus on the 'now'. I have, for a long time, been looking over my shoulder or wondering what's next. This at least means I turn to the present.

I am learning to enjoy and appreciate what I have, and reflect a little to recognise what's going on. Not always understanding why, but acknowledging nonetheless. It is a small and active thing. I am learning not too worry too much about tomorrow, but instead just slow down a little with fewer expectations and less concern about the views or actions of others. There is great joy in it.

Last night I dreamt about my father and my grandfather. Somewhere in the chaotic thoughts of a restless night my father was talking, walking, smiling, being a Dad. It has made me think of him as him, and not as he is now. I am glad that somewhere in the vestiges of my mind that these images and the sound of his voice are still with me. He is present still. For a moment or two, I do not need to grieve him and I had his company again.

Small steps and revelations

Last night I did something that scared me, and something important. I let someone in the real world, a friend, read what is written here. It another small step towards letting the world see who I am, truly and not the facade that is so often presented, or the person who tries to please, placate, support or give people what they want. There is an honesty in it, and my words found acceptance and support – I think. Letting people see me as I am, exposed and vulnerable, terrifies me but each time it happens I am finding my way towards a more satisfying existence.

Sometimes I wonder why I do this, blog that is. Two reasons, I guess. Firstly, an outlet for thoughts I have nowhere else to put and, secondly, to remember. I can't bear to read the diaries of my youth. They are few though. I don't own a camera. So much of my life is unrecorded and I have either forgotten how I got from one place to the next, or I look back with the proverbial rose tinted glasses or with sadness. Those perceptions of my past have an unreality. I hope, one day, I will be able to read over these words and recognise things as they actually are now and not what I thought they were looking back from a different paradigm.

Hopefully I will see myself for who I am and what I've become, and remember those who have touched my life along the way. I am blessed that they are many in number, and include some very special people. I am blessed that I am loved. I need to remind myself of that in dark days and memories, and in the happy and sad times that come along. I am no longer ashamed of myself, and trust that openness and honesty will enable me to find the intimacy and companionship I seek from friends, family and lovers. I want to give them something of me, as they allow me to see them. Small steps and revelations.

here I go again

back to clean slates. All changed. More to the point beginnings that I ended. Sad, but truer than than creating situations that can never be. At least I have found new friendships along the way.

Small things

Yesterday my father smiled. A rare and precious moment. Insigificant to anyone else, but a reminder that my Dad still exists somewhere, somehow within the shell of man whose Alzheimer's now controls his life. A reminder that the hospital visiting and sadness of watching his decline are worthwhile, that somehow, he is still there. He is still my Dad.

Perhaps?

Perhaps I am changing, perhaps I am learning? Perhaps not?

It is fair to say that I am utterly confused. I met man a few weeks ago who is sweet and kind and gentle. Everything I’d like a man to be. But it leaves me feeling very strange. I don’t know what to do with his affection and kindness. There is no challenge, no disaster on the horizon and I am left feeling completely at sea.

He is the things I would like, but I just don’t know how to work with these differences. I know what to do with a rogue, or an unattainable man, or a man who needs fixing. I also know that these will always fall to pieces. I set myself up for failure. This time I have set myself up for success and I don’t know what to do! But then again there is geography which could create disaster. As he falls towards me, I push back. I want him, but I don’t know how to be. Or do I simply like the idea of him?

He is talented, musical, clever, patient, ordinary. He is not handsome, but still he is attractive.

I do not want to lead him on, promising something or someone I don’t know how to be. I do not know why I have chosen another man who does not live where I do. I can speculate, but can’t pin it down. I can’t also breakdown my feelings, behaviour or confusion. Find its root. Recognise it. Challenge it. Do something, anything, different. Give him and me the chance to be something special.. There remains two constants. Firstly, that he feels like someone important. Secondly, that nagging question about long distance. I have been burned before because of it. Can I let myself just go wherever the road takes us and stop worrying about the consequences? I don’t know.

My lodger is staying another month. The extra cash is nice. Loss of my space, and fiddle playing, bathing, pottering, hostess-ing time is not. Is it worth it?

I am left grumpy, listless and lost with it all.

Finding freedom

I haven’t felt much like writing much these past few weeks. Maybe working full time again has just occupied enough of brain instead. After a weekend in Cumbria, and now typing from the west highlands I’m in reflective place again. So here we go…

It’s been a strange few weeks. An encounter with ex, that should never have happened, but weirdly I’m ok about it. Perhaps we have proven that he and I will never have what we both wanted from one another and can never go back.

However, a had a significant moment of revelation about the effect counselling has had on my life. Not only my ability to let the ex thing go, but in in translating feelings that would have once overwhelmed me. I was at a music festival watching a band amongst a crowd of folk. I turned round to realise my companion had disappeared without a word. Another, had gone for wander so I didn’t where she was either. I had a sudden rush of panic of being alone in this crowd. Ever since being mugged last year, crowds have freaked me out a little. I think they perhaps highlight my vulnerability and always need to know where my escape route is. I looked all over the marquee and couldn’t find either person. I had to get out I had to know where they were. I was scared - of what I don’t know - but there it was. I eventually found them. In previous times I would have confused this feeling of fear with being angry with my companion with having abandoned me. Instead, I was able to calmly explain to my friend, when asked, what was wrong. Had he simply let me know where he was going, and when he’d be back, I would have been fine. He wasn’t to know that I’d end feeling he way I did. I told him what had happened, and why the situation made feel like it did. For the rest of the weekend, he simply told me if he was going somewhere and when he’d be back and it was fine. A year ago I would have been angry with him. Perhaps not telling him, and telling myself that I was being silly, or perhaps been grumpy and let him know I was annoyed. The beauty of being able to simply express and understand my feelings is a new gift. Hard won, but wonderful, and let a situation pass so much more quickly. I finally feel like I’m free of my anger and confusion and fear of my irrational behaviour I have now have a language for it.

Paddling faster

That sense of calm is somehow disappearing. It's there, but not in such great strength. I am struggling without time for me in my week, and without time dedicated to focussing on making my life better. I am procrastinating and struggling to write, which in turn leaves me no outlet. I guess I'm scared of facing some stuff head on, on my own and it's freaking me out a bit.

Despite exercise which ususally clears the cobwebs sufficiently, my head seems to be stuffed full of things I don't want to think about, or that aren't good for me. I'd love to have the ability to tackle life one step at a time, instead I rush around doing small bits of everything and then not finishing anything and worrying about it all. Not good. I wish I was one of these delightfully systematic people! Then again, life would certainly be less interesting.

What steps next? How do get myself back to a place where I can breathe?

Comfort eating is rubbish!

I don't know if it's even comfort, but today I have consumed everything I shouldn't polished off with a nice glass of wine. I am calmer than i have ever been and still one small chain of thoughts sends me for the fridge. Hopeless! I should alarm it! Maybe I'll just blame PMS, or not enough sleep, or something. It's a strange and frustrating thing.

Calm

Maybe it's the sunshine, or maybe it's me, but depsite a world of things that need to be done I'm just feeling calm. Something i'm not quite used to....I certainly can't blame it on the yoga as this morning's attempt saw me nearly binning a temperatmental DVD. Instead of getting annoyed, I just thought 'Fine, wehre's one that works...'. Very odd indeed. Not complaining either!