Reasons


Having been off work for such a long time with (what I think is) a pathetic reason, I’ve become quite self loathing. I’ve never particularly had much love for myself, I’ve never given myself any sort of reason to, but I’ve recently come to consider myself a really loathesome little creature. Too scared to even choose a place to eat with Chris, anxiety attacks at the thought of inviting a friend to do something and so little faith in my abilities that I can’t even get beyond the very preliminary thoughts of doing anything worthwhile. On top of that is the overwhelming sense that even if I were to somehow come out on top, there wouldn’t be a place in the job market for a girl with no useful qualifications and a nearly two year gap on her CV. What motivation do I have to make the extra effort required?

My Mother's wedding day

My Dadcu, before he walked my mum slowly down the aisle.

Well, I might have found something. My granddad, my Dadcu, my mother’s father. I’ve never known him a healthy man, but he’s approaching his eighties now and it’s really been showing lately. Not so many months ago gout caused by diabeties meant he had a leg amputated at the knee. Some years before he was rushed to hospital  for reasons that I can’t remember, but I know it was a close thing. Last night, the 29th of March, he had a heart attack. Today, he’s in a medically induced coma, fighting for his life.

In his own gruff way, he has always wanted the best for my brother and me. He bought me my first computer when I had to start writing essays for school. He was always generous with things he thought served a worthwhile purpose and I’ve spent my life drowning in myriad worlds of books and stories brought to me in part through his encouragement and generosity. He would give me the occassional £10 and whisper to me ‘Don’t tell your Grandmother’. He taught me pretty much everything I know about sports but always refused to teach me to cheat at cards.

I’ve seen him overcome so much, and I know he will overcome this latest threat. He wouldn’t leave my gran on her own like that; he promised me he’d look after her. He has to get better. I can’t let him go to the grave knowing his only granddaughter to be a failure. I have to show him I’m worth something, that all his encouragement wasn’t for naught, that the failure I’ve been so far isn’t all I’m ever going to be.

I don’t know what I’m going to do yet but it needs to be something that will make him proud to be my granddad. My Dadcu.

More than 30 years ago.

Henry Ronald Rees, late 70’s

An Animal Analogy.


Most of the time, I feel like this:

I'm this small.

I am this small and insignificant compared to other people.

Someday though, I want to stop being a turtle, and be like this:

Now I'm a tiger.

I want to live without a worry and have a tiger smile.

NaNoWriMo


I know, no posts recently. To extend the slow cooker metaphor, ideas, like casserole, will go bad if you leave them too long, and I haven’t been able to produce posts on the things I mentioned.

On another note, I am planning on participating in National Novel Writing Month this year. It’s basically a huge writing excercise where you write 50,000 words in a month. Quality is not the relevent bit here – the important stuff is to help develop a habit of writing every single day, whether you feel like it or not. I don’t have an idea yet – I’m going to go plot-bunny-hunting today. I must suppress the urge to write a 50k fan fiction story.

I have so much to do that I’m just going to give up and punch trees.


In my attempts to act my age, I feel like I should at the very least pretend to keep on top of stuff. There are so many things that need taking care of on a day-to-day basis, things such as laundry, washing up, cleaning and  eating to name but a few. This is TOO MANY THINGS. I have a very limited capacity to do stuff but I have unlimited scope of what I feel I should be doing.

Take for example that I feel I should not be living in my bedroom as it currently is. I’m twenty-one, officially an adult everywhere now, and yet my bedroom is still adorned with brightly coloured bits and pieces (tat, for lack of a better word) that I can’t bear to hide away in a storage space. I operate on a fairly simple basis – if I have something pretty, I should show it off. For a long time, I kept scraps of wrapping paper from a gift blu-tacked to the door of my wardrobe, because it was pretty, and my Mum had obviously taken the time to choose something visually appealing to wrap around my gifts – therefore I should show this to the world. Too pretty to throw away, but pointless keeping something like that in a box.

What this comes down to is me having a bedroom so overflowing with stuff that keeping it all tidy is a herculean task. I have so many t-shirts that they don’t all fit in their drawers if they’re all clean. Same goes for all my other kinds of clothes. So my washing basket is perpetually full, and without constant monitoring, is quick to overflow.

When I move into a new room (four moves in the last four years), I tend to fill up all the available space. It’s like my possessions take on some kind of gaseous quality and expand to fill all available space. I have a five shelf book-case (six shelves if you count the top of the thing) and I filled it without a thought. There is also a whole collection of about 100 Choose-Your-Own-Adventure books stacked on my desk because I can’t think of anywhere better to put them. Nevermind the fact that I’ve got a perfectly good shelf just there – that’s where all that stuff has gone to live, and I can’t move it! Where else would a couple of 13-year-old trophies, a kaleidoscope and a balloon pump go?

I suppose the biggest challenge is that i know I’d have to do all the sorting and reorganizing in one go, because I can’t move the books until I move that stuff, which I’d need to find a place for, which would need to be rearranged or tidied which would involve moving more stuff…I’m sure you can see where this leads.

The problem is that I can only achieve stuff if I break it down into easy, bitesize chunks. Clearing out one or two drawers might not be so bad, but the concept of doing the whole set of drawers in one go sends me into a panic that starts out so self-defeated that I don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of doing anything at all (aside from maybe hyperventilating and trying not to cry)

Sadly there are some things that can’t be broken down, like making a phone call. Phone calls fill me with anxiety for multiple reasons, not least because people who know us both get my brother and me confused on the phone. Stuff that needs doing urgently is almost as bad, because there isn’t time to break it down, and often requires a lot of thought.

Needless to say, I can’t concentrate on anything when I’m in a frenzied state brought on by having stuff that needs doing, so I can’t even play a video game or read a book to keep my mind off things. So, my panic gets out of control and I can’t think about anything else, and my mind will start coming up with worse and worse potential scenarios that I just want to stop and hide under my desk like I used to before I filled the underneath of it with shoes, paper and empty carrier bags.

Reposting from tumblr now I’ve got my blogging sorted.


Currently, all I’m doing is trying. The most monumental thing I’ve actually achieved recently is finishing Paper Mario and the Thousand Year Door. I’m trying to learn to draw. I’m trying to complete the ECDL (European Computer Driving License). I’m trying to declutter and tidy up my bedroom. I’m trying to sort my finances out. I’m trying to regain my old figure. I’m trying to be a thoughtful, clean and considerate housemate, an excellent friend and a perfect girlfriend. I’m trying to maintain my mediocre writing skills, and even to improve them. I’m trying to keep up on current affairs. I’m trying to lose the black dog. I’m trying to remember everything else I’m trying to do in order to list them here.

That’s a lot of things to try and do every day.

Consequently, days like today happen. I had a very small number of things that were vital for me to do this morning – an appointment to attend being the cruicial one. However, after waking up, my brain got stuck in the wrong gear, and started to focus on the fact that today, I am unlikely to achieve anything on my very long list. I began thinking about how little energy I have and how much of that it takes to walk to town and take an ECDL exam, then to meet my boyfriend and make him smile.

The panic of whether or not I’ll ever achieve anything set in. My last real achievement was in 2008, passing my A-Levels and getting into Lancaster University. Since then, my life has been strewn with failures at every step.

So, instead of getting out of bed and making sure that my ECDL isn’t another one of those failures, I spent two and a half hours reading back on the twitter feed on my phone.

I’m trying to stop doing things like that. Looks like I need to try harder.

I’ve lost the thread of this post. I’m not sure where I was going with it anymore.