An Ode to my Mother

you carried me with you,

you created a monster,

you gave birth to a girl,

whose mind is an impostor.

not what you had in mind

when you wanted a baby;

you spent half your life

trying to save me.

I know you tried to do

everything you possibly could,

you always tried to love me

the way a mother should.

I was born broken

in sickness and in trauma

but its not your fault

I never really had a father.

I can only promise to forgive

but I’m sorry I can’t forget,

that you spent half your life

living in regret.

your hurt and hatred

passed onto another generation

such tragic magnetic chaos

from an awful situation

I can’t thank you enough

for everything you have done

I’m sorry I can’t be something better

but whats done is done.

even when I’m mad

or when I think I hate you,

you are still my mother

I can’t do anything but love you.

I could shout a thousand apologies

I could stand naked in the rain

but that wont make up for anything

or any of this pain.

I am a part of you

you are a part of me

we carry the same pain

the same burden, unfortunately.

I can’t think of the right words

to tell you how much I love you,

or to explain how I would break down

when the day comes I should lose you.

I can only try to appreciate

the little things you do

this is an ode to my mother

I love you.

 

 

 

When Life Gives You Lemons

I say fuck the lemons, just give me the tequila! (totally irrelevant and ironic)

 

It’s safe to say this year for me so far has not been the greatest… Let me break it down for you…

  1. I ended up in hospital after drinking a litre bottle of Famous Grouse and attempting suicide for the 4th? time.
  2. I was then admitted into a psych ward (a Spanish one I might add) for 48 hours due to the continued self deprecating suicidal thoughts… (Stay tuned for a special blog on this one)
  3. My boyfriend then broke up with me and fucked off back to Manchester the selfish little prick, so yes, another relationship bites the fucking dust… yes it was a “new” relationship but one I had yet again invested myself in all the same.
  4. I had to start therapy again, and after a good year or so without it, anyone who has been there will know it feels like taking ten steps back and it fucking sucks.
  5. I lost a couple of clients with my little “cleaning business” but then I guess I did gain a couple too, so maybe this one doesn’t count?
  6. I was also in the process of trying to find a housemate to share with me where I currently live so I didn’t have to stress too much about the cost of rent and bills all by myself… I found someone, a great guy actually, who unfortunately pulled out last minute as he got onto a personal training course back in the UK. Something which I SELFLESSLY told him to pursue but as it transpires, it’s s course you can basically do from anywhere in the world (anyway, minor details)… regardless… you wanna know how I know you can do it from anywhere in the world? I did my own research for my own benefit because it is something I have always been interested in . Going to the gym really helped me overcome addiction and gave me coping mechanisms that helped with my depression and anxiety.

 

Anyway, Long story short…. I am a firm believer in that everything happens for a reason.

Why did I meet this guy, this “potential housemate”? Why did he talk about personal training etc that INSPIRED me to push myself and pursue my own fucking dreams of becoming a personal trainer myself?

Firstly I wouldn’t have met him had I not been in Spain, not looking for a housemate and almost certainly if I had still been with my boyfriend.

At the time the pain of another heartache was all too much to bear but now, in hindsight and what a beautiful thing it is, has showed me that it ALL HAPPENED FOR A REASON. I have been through all this shit to find my path again.

I lost my way. Again. Had my heart broken, Again. But this wasn’t all for nothing I guess, because now I feel like I see my own future again. Me myself and I.

Life teaches you a lesson and you hopefully learn from it and move on.

Well fingers crossed, this time next year I could be running my own fitness studio, or as I pointed out to my parents earlier, this qualification combined with my university degree in creative writing…. I could end up writing for a magazine such as women’s health.

See?

I think everything does happen for a reason?

And you know what? Fuck the lemons, give me that shot of tequila any day.

I always make the same mistakes…

Not too long ago, my mum said to me “The only person you can rely on is yourself.” And oh my god was she right… (Just don’t tell her that). It has stuck with me ever since, because people will inevitably let you down. The thing is, is it their wronging or yours? Maybe (for arguments sake) if we didn’t have such high expectations then we wouldn’t get so disappointed, right? I have to admit I do have high expectations but I think maybe the reason for this is that I expect from others what I would do for them. Surely that doesn’t make me a bad/needy/neurotic person? Sometimes it really feels that way though.

Up until fairly recently I pretty much depended on other people to define me. I surrounded myself with anyone and everyone because I was terrified of what would happen to me and my own head if I was alone for too long. But the thing is, the people I surrounded myself with were not very nice people at all, in fact they were really toxic and narcissistic and basically drained the life out of me. I’m not saying I am perfect by any means (pretty sure I’ve said this a thousand times) but I think I at least try to acknowledge my mistakes and attempt to make amends with the people I have hurt or done wrong by. Granted, it has taken me a while to realise my problems but hey we live and learn right?

It took me a long time to accept and move on from all the bad stuff that happened to me and all the shit people put me through. It took me even longer to accept that this was in fact a blessing which had made me stronger and wiser and (I would like to think) a slightly better person.

In a perfect world, yes. But unfortunately the world we live in isn’t perfect and shit happens. ALL THE TIME.

It’s heartbreaking though when you really love or care for someone though and they just let you down. How much disappointment can one take before saying enough is enough? Does it make you a weak person for wanting to forgive people? Or does it actually in fact make you that much stronger and wiser because of all the pain and suffering your heart is willing to take? Forgiveness feels like a heavy burden to bear and it may not always be easy, but you have to let things go, sooner or later, one way or another, otherwise you will just hold onto the heartache for the rest of your life and for what? It’s a form of self harm because the only person you are truly hurting is yourself.

So be kind to yourself, love yourself more than anyone else and let that shit go. #sorrynotsorry

Courage and Cowardice

We currently live in a world where communication is everywhere. We have Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and Tinder which give us the means of communication with anyone worldwide at the touch of a button. So why is it so fucking hard to communicate with someone face to face? As a society we find it almost impossible to talk about anything personal or anything that can make us feel utterly vulnerable to someone we care about, yet we so freely flaunt our lives and air our dirty laundry (and worse) on Facebook and Tinder, no questions asked.

It took my now ex “boyfriend” 4 days to ask me “Are we okay?” After I had been distant and non responsive and quite cold towards him after an argument that wasn’t really resolved and left a bitter taste in my mouth. As you can see, I have a tendency to hold onto things… Now you could look at it this way: why had I not said anything to him in those four days about how I was feeling and what I was thinking? Or you could ask why did it take him four whole fucking days to ask me a simple question, which maybe if he’d asked a little sooner, we might not be exes?

The simple answer is this (and it’s hardly breaking news); we hide behind our computers screens, bury ourselves in our phones, avoiding any face to face communication and confrontation. We find it so easy to speak our mind when given a keyboard to type on but god forbid our relationships are on the line and BAM! We can’t say shit because we’re terrified. We’ve lost the ability to actually say how we’re feeling to an actual human being, instead posting it up on social media for the whole world to read. Which makes me really sad, even though we are all guilty of it, myself included. I mean look at me now, I am literally hiding behind a blog. I am such a hypocritical cliché it’s making my head hurt.

The thing is, what can we do to try and change? To better ourselves, communicative and otherwise, so that our future selves, lives, relationships don’t suffer the consequences of our cowardly actions? We take small steps to make those small changes. We open up to someone even if we’re terrified, we tell someone we love them, even if they might not say it back. And we stop shaming others for the lives they lead and for the things they do just because the computer screen gives us the courage and cowardice to do so. Yes, it’s painful baring your soul to a loved one let alone a complete stranger… but if you reveal what’s under that mask you wear, the mask that we all seem to hide under; life isn’t so scary after all.

“They don’t love ME, they love the IDEA of me.”

What it’s like to “date” when you have depression and anxiety.

Dating and meeting new people, is quite possibly one of the most terrifying yet frustrating things to do when you suffer with depression and/or anxiety (or any mental illness for that matter). For me, there’s this voice inside my head telling me “Go! Have fun! You deserve it! You need some fun in your life, what have you got to lose?” This is my favourite part of my brain because it reminds me of the young, carefree girl I once used to be, before self doubt and paranoia took me hostage and my body started playing host to my “ugly sister”. She is the destroyer; the paranoid and the self destructive part of me that constantly makes me feel totally worthless and incapable of any kind of love. And it breaks my heart every time, because I am reminded of the scared little girl I will probably always be; the girl who can’t let anyone too close, in fear of being abandoned.

I wish I could say it wasn’t always like this but I would be lying. I can’t for the life of me remember a time I felt safe, I felt sure of the “love” that surrounded me and the love that I [rarely] gave to myself. I have always felt like it’s some big joke that I was never “in on”. I never got the memo. I convince myself that nobody actually loves me, or even likes me for that matter. They simply tolerate me. They deal with me. My entire life feels like a lie and it’s torture. My body is there and my face is smiling, whilst my brain is conjuring up this elaborate story that everyone is literally out to get me. They pretend to like me. But in my own fucked up reality, they are here to tear down my walls, make me open myself up to them, to one day (quite possibly in the near future) turn around and laugh in my face. No I’m not making this up, and yes this is oh so very real for me.

Every time I open myself up to someone, every time I take a risk and go on a “date”, or let someone see the “real” me… it is absolute and utter torture, because inevitably, I will self sabotage everything I did or said, make that person HATE me and all because I would rather hurt them, than them be the one to hurt me. Because I just couldn’t bare it… couldn’t deal with it. At the end of the day I also honestly believe I am doing them a favour (which I obviously am) because who the fuck would want to know me, let alone love me anyway? I am broken. I am scarred. I try to tell this to people I meet all the time but they don’t seem to believe me. I tell them point blank that “I’m crazy” and they shrug and laugh it off like it’s some hilarious joke I have just made. No its not a joke. I genuinely feel this way and to me, it’s very fucking real.

Ironically, there is nothing more I want than for someone to love me and understand me. I wish there was some “magic wand” that I could wave to make all these incessant thoughts and feelings go away, that something would wipe this horrendous internal monologue clean from my brain, but unfortunately there is no such thing. SO until the day comes that there is a “miracle cure” for my stupid brain, I will undoubtedly push people away, regardless of who they are or what their “intentions” are, because that’s just the detrimental part of me I have unfortunately become accustomed to. And if you don’t like it? Well, get used to it because that’s just who I am. And it’s not like I didn’t fucking warn you anyway.

Between the Sheets (Sonnet)

A little sonnet I wrote a while back…

Between the Sheets

We wake late from depths of dreams.

I lick my lips as I feel the smooth cool sheets

On my exposed body.

You turn to look at me

Eyes only half open

I can’t help but smile at your curving lips.

Your soft hand

Finds my open thigh;

A gentle caress can only mean one thing.

Your body creeps closer to mine

Between the sheets.

As we touch lips

It is almost as if

I am still dreaming.