I’m With You


So, after nearly a week on the new tablets, I finally got a decent night’s sleep last night after taking the absolute maximum amount of sleeping tablets allowed by the box. This made me sleep in until half one, which was a tad disappointing (because I wanted to go for lunch as usual). But, it was great to get a full night’s sleep for once.

I’ve been having horrendous insomnia, not falling asleep after lying in bed for hours, and then waking up very early, without having had enough sleep. This is not fun when it happens once, let alone after it reoccurs several days in a row.

It’s been an interesting week. I’ve spent a lot of time hanging out with people that I wouldn’t necessarily spend time with on a regular basis otherwise. Monday night was Adam’s birthday, which was good fun – there were a lot of people there, including people who I know buy name/sight but that’s it, so I feel I got to know them a bit better.

Tuesday I went onto campus and had lunch (something I failed to do on Monday due to not realising where the usual suspects would be on a non-termtime lunch hour). Also met with Locrecia and Mair to do social sec related plotting. Look out LURPS, next term will be FUN. After that, I came home and started feeling pretty low. Did my best to stave it of by trying to not be on my own as much as possible – ate in spoons with Adam and Paul D. Went home still feeling pretty low but at least I had saved myself an hour or two of being alone.

Wednesday was a good day, Spent it in the company of Mr Slee and Mr B (aka the Craigs) and learned some very interesting things about LURPS and its members *cackles wildly*. After spending most of the day with these wonderful gentlemen, I went to pizza hut with some of the more ‘usual crowd’ including Simon, Mew and Stu.

At this point I was really feeling the lack of sleep. Agitated and nervy, I wanted out of pizza hut and to be at home with the right tools for the job of relieving the tension and pain inside me. But I was convinced to stay by the food (mmm pizza) and then by my friends – people telling me how good the film was (and they were right.) As much as I wanted to go home and be able to cry and cut myself and make the world seem smaller, I knew that this was not the right choice. It wasn’t what I should be doing. So I stayed, and went to the film, and then came home and took the sleeping pills.

Today, after waking up at half past one and being slightly disorientated for a while, I realised that it was a really quite beautiful day outside, and so went to Williamson Park (one of my favourite places in Lancaster). I sat for a while and thought about what I want to write, made a few notes, then spend nearly an hour talking with Andrew about various things of no great importance.

Every time I am there, I get blown away with the wonder of Williamson Park. Such a beautiful place – I am resolved to go there more often while the weather is acceptable. Might make it a daily thing on my way back from lunch on campus. If I make it a routine then it will help me get out of the house, something which has seemed quite pointless on several occasions since I stopped studying.

So, to the point of the post at last. I thought that Easter at Lancaster would be quite a boring thing, quite lonely and generally bad for my health, but no. It has been wonderful so far, spending time with people out of my usual ‘circle of friends’ and seeing that maybe I need to redefine the circle. I’ve met new people and discovered that I can feel things that I didn’t know I could anymore.

Now I’m looking forward to Locrecia’s housewarming tomorrow and Sanctuary on Saturday – both opportunities to find myself in the company of a certain someone who I like to be in the company of at the moment, and of course a whole load of other wonderous people.

Here’s hoping that I don’t need the tablets to sleep tonight.

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More on Journeys and Our Country


Sorry, to clarify – this was composed Saturday 6th March when I was on my way back from Wales to Lancaster.

So, another post brought to you from the belly of the train across our beautiful countries. The train is still passing through Wales, shortly to arrive at Cardiff. Beauty abound in the outside world, flecked with the grime on the windows of the train.

Wales, and Ferryside more specifically, have always been where I’ve considered to be ‘home’ for all intents and purposes. I’ve lived in the country of mountains, delicious cawl, and sheep almost all my life and nearly half of that time we’ve been in Ferryside, a small coastal village where almost everyone knows almost everyone else and the concept of a ‘strongest man contest’ in the village square (which is also the village car park) is met with enthusiasm, dressing up and community spirit.
The village itself is immensely beautiful – the view from the bridge over the railway track is phenomenal. Beach, dunes, rivers, fields, forests; we have it all. Old houses, new houses, a shop, a hotel and spa, pubs, tennis courts, churches, a school, a post office. Anything you want from a village really. Bus and rail connections to further afield areas too.
So since I was ten years old, Ferryside has been home. It’s the house I’ve spent the longest in, the one my family and I have really made ‘home’. We’ve made changes to it, fixed and broken it (I’ll never forget the time that the cat fell through the kitchen roof – the hole still hasn’t been fixed). Most of all, we’ve made it ours.

For as long as the thought has been there, I’ve wanted to raise my future children in Wales. I’ve wanted them to be steeped in Welsh culture, be Welsh speaking, and celebrate St. David’s day with the same passion for their homeland as I do. Given the choice, there is nowhere I’d rather call my home country.

Recently though, there has been a change in my outlook. No longer do I consider ‘home’ to be that tiny village. No longer do I see myself as an old lady walking along the beach with my grandchildren running around, chasing after the dog. Now, it’s Williamson park I’m walking through. My children will have Lancashire accents, not Welsh ones. They’ll never learn Yr Wyddorr, they’ll learn the alphabet instead. This saddens me somewhat – I want to further the language, I want my family to have the same experience of my part of the world as I do. But it won’t be home for them, I don’t think. Not anymore.

Lancaster is a wonderful city. Historic and steeped in culture and beauty, its only drawback is being so close to Morecambe. But Morecambe has its own redeeming qualities of course – the beach is the major one for me. I have never lived so far away from the sea as I do now in Lancaster and even knowing that it is a short bus journey away if I need it is a comfort. From my front door in Ferryside, a sufficiently powerful throw could land a stone on the beach.

I have been thinking recently about writing. I want to write! But I am so short of ideas that I’m not sure I’ll ever make it as an author. I have the ability to write (or so I’m led to believe) just there’s nothing in my head to write about. I can’t come up with characters, a world, or a plot. I lack inspiration. My muse has left me. The only thing I can be inspired to write these days are these live journal posts, where I prattle on about nothing relevant or interesting.

The train is very busy today. I try my best to not do this journey on Saturdays – people are going all manner of places over the weekend and they all seem to be on my train. I used to pick a person and wonder about who they were – what was their story. These days I can’t even come up with lives for the myriad of people around me. Not the trendy looking seventeen year old couple in the seats to my right, or the posh couple with their ‘Upper Crust’ coffees in front of them. It used to be so easy – why is it now lost to me? And why is it that when something is denied to us we want it, crave it even more fervently? Writing has always been something I’m interested in, and have done off and on for years (mainly Fan Fiction, but it’s still writing). Now though, I can’t do it and I so desperately want to turn my time and my words into a story for others to read and enjoy.

Fuck it.



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I wrote up a very long, very angst-ridden depressive post about all the crap I’m feeling at the moment, all the anger I’m feeling towards myself, and my parents, my workload, general complaints and moaning and being really upset.

But then I decided that, hey, if anyone cares to read about my problems they’d care enough to ask IRL when they next see me, so I’ll not write a post about all of that stuff.

I’m going to post a nice list of things which have the very real potential to make me happy. Maybe not right now, but as soon as I start to feel better, these will be the things which are most likely to make me smile.

 

My family – this is generally true (though not always), especially my brother Lewis whom I get along with brilliantly well. My Mum and I have always been fairly close too which is nice.

 

My friends – both old and new. Seriously, these people have shaped me into the person that I am today. The newer ones (especially ones I’ve made since the beginning of this year) in Lancaster, I really don’t know where I’d be without them since my break-up with Matt almost a month ago now. A couple of people especially have done their best to pick up the broken pieces of Alice Rees and reassemble them into a person, and to them a special mention (they know who they are). I’m having a hard time of it at the moment and these people are the only thing I can see that are worth going on for.

 

Music – my constant companion. Some songs have lyrics that I can identify with very strongly or which seem very profound, and some just appeal to me aurally in a great way.

 

Escapism –

1.   Role playing – At the moment, I have five characters that I breathe life into on a weekly or bi-weekly basis. Jessica Redgrave (ViP), Levex (D&D), Tylmarande (Exalted), Raltia (Dark Heresy) and Gardina (Far Shores). They allow me to escape from my nitty-gritty world of comedy and tragedy and step into their shoes for a few hours at a time and see what their lives are like, what they’re going through and how they’re feeling so I can forget those things about myself.

2.   Reading – a fantastic way to get entirely lost in a new world. You don’t control these people, their paths are predetermined by the authors pen strokes (or key-presses these days). That’s part of the safety net. The characters might get into some sticky situations, but you know that there is nothing you can do to save them, nothing you say, do or think can have any impact on their outcomes. And that’s a very nice thing to feel sometimes – completely blameless. The benefit of reading over watching films is of course the freedom to decide yourself what the characters, their world, their voices, et cetera, are all like.

 

 

Moonlight, Candlelight, Sunlight – light from natural sources is so much calmer and prettier than that of a light from a lamp or a light bulb. I know some people would quibble as to whether candlelight is natural or artificial, but I’m inclined to say that fire is a natural phenomenon.

 

Gigs – an extension of my love of music. The atmosphere at a live music event is intoxicating and once you’ve experienced it, you just want more. The same applies for clubs and club-nights, like Darkside of the Lune and Rock-it to the Lune (once a month at the Phoenix Club). The atmosphere at both of these events is fantastic, and feeling the music thrum in your chest is one of the best feelings – makes you want to dance all night.

 

Long walks and talks – I’ve always enjoyed the company of others far more than I enjoy my own company. Going for a long walk with someone you care about and have a lot to talk about with can be one of the most enjoyable experiences. Being alone with another person can really help me to offload – I’ve been told I need to learn to talk about my issues more, and having the full attention of someone else really helps with that.

 

Thunder storms – you know the kind; the wind is howling, the rain is torrential and loud enough to drown out quiet noises in the house, there are thunder claps and the sky is frequently lit up with lightning. It all depends on how I’m feeling, but sometimes walking in one of them can be just what you need (as they say, when you walk in the rain, no-one can see you cry). It’s very soul cleansing and when you get home and warm up you feel like a small person with small problems compared to the heavens opening up and emptying their contents onto the world below. Sometimes everyone needs to feel small. Other times, it can be the best feeling to be sat inside with a roaring fire (I’m reminiscing back to when we had one) in front of you, a mug of hot chocolate, and good company to talk with or an enthralling book to lose yourself in.

 

Being comfortable – I’m a firm believer that people do their best work when they’re at ease. This is why I kick off my shoes in lectures, or wear my scruffy pyjama style clothes to revise in when I’m in the house. It’s harder to think and concentrate when you’re constantly distracted by a tight tie or an uncomfortable shirt.

 

Sex – There is a lot to be said about sex and all its many connotations. I know that there are people out there who think that girls can only enjoy sex if they are sluts who sleep around. This is, of course, very untrue. There are two kinds of pleasure that can be gained from having sex. Physical pleasure is the obvious one – the feeling, the thrill you get from flirting with someone, the tingle you get as you sense the sexual tension building up between you, then the incredible release of endorphins gained from the physical act of sex is one of the best feelings a person can experience, and of course the after-glow, laying there all hot and sweaty and physically exhausted with your senses on fire. Then of course there is the emotional pleasure you can get from having sex with someone you love and are committed to, someone you trust so implicitly and explicitly that there really is a true feeling of oneness when you make love. The feeling of looking into someone’s eyes as you are as close as two people can get is incredible. Then once again there’s the after-glow, laying in each other’s arms and whispering to each other and enjoying the closeness of the most intimate act of love.

 

There are, of course, a whole bunch more things that I could write about, but my hands are so cold from typing that I have to stop now. I hope this is a nice change from my usual torrents of angst.