Alone and blogging

I haven't really been able to blog for a while in fact there is so much in my life that I haven't been able to manage. I know I may have put this before but to explain my 30 year marriage ended 15 weeks ago now. He left me by sending a text message and ran off with one of my best friends. And it hurts so much. Every day I just hope it will start getting easier - and to be honest in some ways it is. I no longer want him back. I realise that what he has done is so bad and has hurt so much there is no going back. But still I wake every morning with them in my head and I go to sleep the same and in between I have moments of OK, moments of better than OK and moments of utter hell.

I ache inside, I ache with loneliness. I feel it like a pain. I know it is too soon to even be thinking about starting another relationship but I so miss having someone around. After 30 years, even though they weren't all good I so miss waking up beside someone, having someone to talk to, discussing the rubbish on TV, eating with and so on and so on. Some days I really believe that one day there will be someone else for me but most days all I feel is a great be empty hole of the future of being alone, of coping alone. And I absolutely hate it.

Today is a bad day, a really bad day - lots and lots of crying already, up at 5am because I can't bear lying there thinking of them, thinking of what they have done. I can't ring my friends crying anymore - I have had enough of me so I know they have. I want it to stop -I want the days to be better, I want to feel like I can cope with boy and just make a life for myself alone and not keep feeling like this. I know many many people live alone and they do just fine, they are happy and able to live their life to the full. I have done so many things to try and make this go away but it just wont. I am at college one day a week, I volunteer, I have got the house much tidier and have really cleared the clutter, I cook and I clean and I do the garden and I cut wood - lots and lots of things. But I still have so many days like today when I just feel so empty, so alone and can't stop crying.

I know if I just make myself then I should be writing - that may be the savour to my life - if I can write everyday and really get into it I might stop feeling like this but trouble is my concentration span is hopeless, my confidence lower than usual and my avoidance huge.

I have started to do some jogging, maybe physical exercise will stop the pain and help me continue to loose weight and help me see a future for myself.

So here is my first blog for a while and yes it is just me feeling sorry for myself - as another blogger puts it a proper visit from the 'self pity' gnome. I don't know if it will help but I have to try, I have to try anything to stop myself feeling like this. I know somewhere inside I have the means to move on but some days I just can't summon it up.

If anyone is reading this 'I am sorry' but if it helps me at all I am not.

dix

It's Official

It's official. I really have no clue what I am doing.

Today I am (well, I think I am meeting someone). I say I think because just at this moment I think it may not happen. Not sure why I think that, just have a feeling.

I am blindly getting on with my life. I still suffer every day. I still feel the pain everyday but hey, I am still here and I am still managing, well more than managing. So does it matter I don't know what I am doing - probably not. Maybe that is what makes life exciting. For once I have no certainty in my life. I don't know where I will be living next year, I don't really know what I will be doing, I don't know if I can manage Boy alone, I don't know if I will ever meet anyone else, I don't know if I can ever get over the betrayal, I don't know if I can ever forgive enough to get them out of my mind, I don't know if I can continue to pay the bills. I just don't know. In other words I am probably like the huge majority of people out there. I haven't a clue.

So here goes into another day - it may be good - it may be bad. It may be exciting or just plain ordinary. But here goes - here goes me who hasn't a clue.

And that is OK right now. It really is.

Dix

Contrasts

Contrasts

Joy, like a flower
sits in a place
right beside my
heart and blooms,
to happiness, love
and Joy.

Pain, like a wound
cuts in a place
right beside my
heart and stabs
incessantly with hurt, lies
and Pain.

Flowers bloom then
fade around the edges;
a knowledge gained from endings
and pain.
The sadness of
the summer gone.

Summer brings new
growth, and flowers,
bold and beautiful;
returning to
the joy.
The smiles and happiness of
warmth and laughter.

Waiting

What am I waiting for?

Waiting for what?

His return?

My acceptance?

I am waiting for my life to change.

I am waiting for change.

New horizons?

Fresh Beginnings?

Hope.

What am I waiting for?

Waiting for what?

The pain to stop.

The hurt to subside

End.

What am I waiting for?

Waiting for what?

His return?

My acceptance?

Hope.

Dix

I was doing OK

I was doing ok. I was trying to be strong and making it happen. I was starting to feel good about myself which is something I haven't felt for along, long time. I felt strong (ish) and that I could cope with the day to day and make plans for the future. Even if they don't work out it felt like a framework, something to make me feel safe ish.

Then I saw him again - my ex husband, that is what I am calling him just because I don't know what to call him. I can't talk about us or we anymore either. He took out boy and they had a good time and he was kind (something he hadn't been for a long time).

But I came home to him being here and I just felt all the pain and all the hurt and all the anger. And I saw his body language and I saw him ignore me and look at me in that way. I have been thrown away by him like a piece of rubbish and it is awful.

So even though I tried really hard I went into that nasty person. The nasty person who just needs to tell how much I hate her - she was my friend and has totally stabbed my in the back and I call her names and he told me not to because they are together. I get that they are together. I get that it is over. In some ways I am so glad that he has gone - that just maybe I can find out who I am and be better and stronger and believe in myself. But he doesn't get the absolute pain that has been inflicted. In his mind it has been a week (yeah a whole week) and I should just move on and forget it. Be done with it. We have been married 30 years but in one week it is over. Done. We had been friends for 26 years but I should forget, I shouldn't feel any pain, I shouldn't feel betrayed because that is just me being unreasonable, that is just me being horrible and nagging.

And just for a moment there I fell for it. I felt bad for being who I was, I felt bad for feeling what I feel. I cried and swore and felt right back to point one - alone, useless, ugly, unloved and unlovable.

You know what - fuck him and fuck her. It is not me and what I feel is not unreasonable. Just because he has moved on in one week maybe I go a bit deeper than that. Maybe I need time to readjust, find a way through, work it all out. I have a right to be hurt, to be angry, to feel this terrible pain and to show it. I have that right - he doesn't have the right to make me feel it is my fault for feeling like that.

But I have to keep moving forward - I have to come out of this stronger, confident and alive. I have to - for myself and for boy.

I rang him after he left - I don't want to see him for a while - I need the space to not feel that pain all the time. I may always feel like it - who knows but I don't want to come out of this bitter and angry all the time. I know I have to deal with the loneliness but I don't have to make myself all chewed up inside. I don't have to put up with him making me feel like that.

I need closure with her - I need to write a letter to tell her how I feel - I need that and I don't give a stuff about what it does to her. Somehow I have to find a way to get that letter to her because I need it for me.

I am not sure if I can get through this - I am not sure if I can survive - I know I have so much more to content with and that each day will be harder but I have to try. I just have to do what is right for me and what will make me strong.

Of course, not seeing him is exactly what he wants - out of sight out of mind but really I have to put that aside and forget it. I have to be strong for me and my boy. I just have to.

London bloody London

This weekend I went to London to see Take That. This blog is not about the concert (another blog entry I think). This blog is about travelling around London. Now I would be the first to admit that I am not well travelled, I am not very experienced at travelling or very confident. I usually drive and as long as I either know where I am going or have a confident navigator beside me I am absolutely fine.

This weekend I went to London by train. The train from Norwich was fine - I travelled first class, something I had never done before and enjoyed the luxury of a reserved seat and the train being on time and not very full.

When I got to London my friend JC was meeting me to get me across the underground, something I wasn't sure I could do alone. Now I know I probably couldn't have done it alone. Everywhere was so busy and so hot and so crowded and so bloody unfriendly. Trouble is I am by nature a people watcher, I can't help it. I have always enjoyed watching people and enjoy making us little stories about them in my head. Maybe that's the writer in me. On the London underground looking at someone feels like a terrible crime. People don't look at each other, they don't register each other. Most are wired in to some electrical devise, or reading and others just look up or down but not at each other - oh no, not at each other.

The journey back from Wembley on the Saturday night was the worst - it was so hot and so full of people and stupidly I thought that we would all still be singing Take That and living on the high of yet another excellent concert. But not silence, no eye contact, misery. Hundreds of people packed in like sardines, lots of body odour and wind and big fat arses (and thats coming from me). We had quite a long journey to get back to our hotel. I felt very sick from the smells and the heat and the jerky train. I felt very sick indeed. Getting off that train was like leaving the dentist on your worst possible visit - something you had to endure and hold your breathe and get through.

I sat in my seat imagining my favourite place, walking on the beach with my dog, breathing in the beautiful sea air, looking across the endless blue sea, watching the sun reflect off the sand dunes in the distance, seeing the fluffy clouds race across the blue sky and feeling the light spray from the sea caress my face. I even remember thinking that even the wettest, coldest, windiest day on the beach was a hundred times better that sitting on this bloody awful train with strangers.

I am glad I went. I am glad I got through it all but have to say I can't understand why anyone would want to do this day in, day out and how lucky I am to live in my space, near the sea, with beautiful clear, clean air.

I hate my job

I know in this financial climate that I should be really thankful that I have a job and in some ways I am. But I am so stuck in a rut. I work relief which is supposed to work that I can pick and chose when I work but the down side is sometimes there is no work. But what it really means is that you are supposed to be available to them whenever they want, up to and including 24 hours a day and then they can just stop using you for no reason what so ever and never give you a reason. Yesterday a member of staff told me that I was 'letting the side' down because I don't want to work 24 hours days (and can't really as I am a foster parent) and that I don't care about the clients or my fellow members of staff.

Perhaps she is right - I don't know. All I know is I have been put on so many times that it is hard to care all the time, sometimes I just want to work and have a life at home and for the balance to be good. Not this crap I am getting.

So I am trying to get another job - desperately applying for lots of school jobs that would provide me with a slightly better income and a reliable structure with time off with boy during the holidays. Trouble is I don't think I am going to get one of these jobs which probably means I never will. I have applied for loads (although not as many as I should as my enthusiasm is really waining) and only had one interview. So what am I doing wrong. Probably not filling in my applications right, not the right experience, don't know the right people etc, etc.

But the truth is I can't keep going as I am. So I am going to have to apply for other care jobs but am so afraid it will be just more of the same. They expect you to do long shifts with sleep ins, they expect you to drop everything for the client but expect to give nothing back. This month I am missing wages again, for the second month running, but have to wait yet another month to catch up.

I so wish I didn't have to work - I know that this is unreasonable and financially impossible but I also know that the worst stress in my life is caused by work.

Wish I believed I could get another job.

Dix

On Worry

I have always realised I am a terrible worrier. But I have never been sure if it is something I have developed or something I inherited. I know both my parents were a bit anxious (sometimes) but was never aware of them being over anxious and worried when I was a child.

I want everything to go well; for me and those around me. I want to feel like I am achieving; that I am making a difference at work and at home. And yet I know this is silly really. Why does this have to be - it is OK to just muddle along and be. It is OK to just work, pay the bills and have a good time. It is OK to sometimes be angry or ill or unhappy as long as you are happy and contented and well most of the time. I know these things.

At the moment I have a pain - in my side sort of tummy area (and that is how good I would be describing it to a doctor). It is niggly at the moment, making me stiff and catching my breath. Lets be honest it could be just a little bit of wind (it could also be a side effect of taking the Acia berry), but last night I layed in bed and proper fretted over it. In my mind it was something really bad and I would have to go into hospital and have an operation etc etc. So instead of having a good nights sleep I worried about something and nothing. And this morning I still have the pain, although it is bearable just annoying and nothing has happened and probably tomorrow it will be gone as quickly as it has arrived.

It is like I need something to worry about. I really don't - I have enough real problems that should be enough for me. Sometimes I wonder if I just have a drama queen personality or that I just can't stop worrying about stuff.

I would so love to have a worry free day - just relaxing doing whatever I want and not worrying about anything. Wouldn't that be great. Am I capable of it - probably not but it would be great to give it a go (with out the use of drugs or alcohol or anything else), just let my mind relax and forget it all.

I think it is something I should work towards - don't you.

Dix

On juggling

I am 50 years old and trying to manage a home; a 13 year old Kinship Foster Child; numerous money issues; tiredness and work. Trouble is I am not always managing it.

Yesterday was a perfect example of this problem. I was due to work all day yesterday (Sunday), not something I would have normally chosen to do as the weekend is always a nightmare. But we are short staffed and I thought I could manage it. And sometimes I can. Trouble is we have just had a change of staffing and the previous manager got completely mixed up when I told her which days I am available and which I am not. My hubbie has every other weekend off, but not this weekend and instead of putting me on his weekend offs, she put me the wrong way around.

So I have to get a baby sitter. This is difficult at the best of times but sometimes nearly impossible. Yesterday was all sorted. My daughter was happy to come and sit with Boy. Don't know she had much planned but anyway all was safe and happy. What happened to make the plan go wrong? Her mother-in-law was rushed in to hospital with a suspected stroke (second one) and she had to go to the hospital with her partner - he needed her support and I totally understand this. Trouble was the phone call came through 1 hour and 15 mins before I had to got to work.

What can I do? I rang the couple of other people who sometimes help out. One was away and the other I couldn't contact. Oh dear. Panic, panic, panic. I sat and thought about. I know that I have to stay with Boy. He is and will always be my first priority. So I ring work and get a not so nice reception. I can understand why but it doesn't help.

So where am I now. Well I am an unreliable worker and will probably lose my job (it is only relief and I am very replaceable). I can't get another job because I flag up as reliable. I need the money from working, if only part-time, it pays lots of bills. I need to be a good reliable foster carer, parent, mother figure; wife; home keeper; finance manager; budgeter; and all round perfect person.

Yesterday I failed on all fronts. And what did it make me feel like - well pretty lousy really.

And how did Boy react - not 'Oh great we have the day together to so stuff' - No - instead 'Oh will there be enough money to go on holiday now?'

I almost feel like I am too old to be doing this stuff - like I am trying the juggling but every day something hits the deck.

No work today - thank god - just a day to relax and take time to do for me - stuff the housework, stuff the money management - I am blogging, watching daytime soaps and meeting a mate for coffee.

I am juggling for me.

Dix

Shopping Today

Today I went shopping with an elderly relative. It is not that I mind taking her shopping, in fact I quite enjoy it but it is the hard physical work of pushing a wheelchair around town. Firstly putting it in and out of the car is hard, the boot of my car means that I have to lift it up and over rather than just slide it in. Then unload at the other end. None of the shops are really very wheelchair friendly and usually I have to carry bulky or awkward goods with me.

Then we go for lunch, which is a nice break. Then back to the hard grind of pushing a wheelchair, up and down, in and out before loading it all back into the car and going to the supermarket.

This is when it gets really awful. Usually I have to find a wheelchair or unload it all again. Then use one of those bloody awful wheelchair trolleys that are not big enough, don't fit on the trolley properly and nearly dislocate your back trying to push it around the store. The wheels on the trolley work against the wheels on the wheelchairs, all the goods are either on the top or bottom shelves and nothing is easy. It is really hard to manoeuvre and almost impossible to push around without knocking something down, hitting something or worse, somebody. Then at the tills it is always in the way and difficult to fill because the bags always seem to take up lots more space than the original goods.

So I pack it all back into the car, drive back to hers, unload it all, drive home and collapse.

I am sitting here tonight thinking that I feel like someone has found a tap on the back of me, turned it on and released all the energy I ever had.

There has got to be an easier way.

Dix

My Irish English Teacher

When I was thirteen we got a new English teacher. He was Irish. He spoke with a Irish accent, a shortish man (or so I remember) always wearing a pin stripped suit, if somewhat rumpled, and white hair and beard.

I went to a Secondary Modern School which meant I had failed my 11 plus and also meant that basically not a lot was every expected of me academically. Most of the time we sort of looked at bits of writing and bit of literature and bits of poetry and it felt like we were never really expected to understand it, never expected to care.

This man tried to introduce us to good literature, he talked about Shakespeare and poetry and literature. He tried to educate us. Trouble was he was Irish. I never knew whether he came from Southern or Northern Ireland (my memory of his soft accent made me think he came from Southern Ireland) but at that time, with the political atmosphere of the IRA and terrorism and bombing in the UK - it didn't matter to me. I heard on the TV that we were at war with Ireland (well basically we were) , that they wanted to maime and kill us. My dad used to visit London sometimes and I was terrified he would get blown up by an Irish bomb. It was a frightened time and I wasn't old enough to understand or even try to understand Irish politics - certainly nothing I saw on TV tried to show me another side to the story. Also my father was a devoutly religious man, being a strong Church of England Protestant so I was very influenced by his prejudice of Catholicism and what that might represent.

My teacher never had a chance - I just argued, played up, called him terrible names and was totally uncooperative. This was not the norm for me, often I was a quiet child who kept my head down and tried to get through the day. Yet he tried to teach us stuff that I now wish I had listened too - I wish I had discovered them then, some I wish I know now.

He left after a few months - it's amazing he lasted that long - it must have been hell working in a Norfolk country school with uneducated, uneducatable kids who just didn't want to hear him.

I often think about him - I often regret that missed opportunity to learn. I wish I knew what happened to him or could even remember his name. I am sorry I was such an awful pupil. I hope he found a school where he could teach and pupils could learn from him.

He once told the class that we would never learn anything - that we deserved the education we got. Harsh but with him this was probably true. I am glad I have fought to recieve and education, worked hard and got to the age of 50 with a better understanding and a way of looking at both sides (well sometimes).

Wish I could tell him that.

Self Loathing (by food)

All I do is eat and eat and eat and Eat. Past full. A whole packet of cheese sandwich biscuits, quantities of fruit and chocolate too. All I do is eat and eat and eat and Eat. Past fat. Milk chocolate Button Easter Eggs, devoured whilst driving, untasted, un-enjoyed, gone. All I do is eat and eat and eat and Eat. Past life. Mature cheese, broken lump by lump from vast blocks; chewed and savoured unobserved. All I do is eat and eat and eat and Eat. Past morbid. Crap food nags carbs and sugar, momentarily ease my stress and sadness. All I do is eat and eat and eat and Eat. To death. Dix

Broken New Years Resolutions

I

I always make New Years Resolutions (NYR's) - normally the same old stuff, do more; lose weight; be more; write more; write everyday; get a better job etc, etc, etc.

This year I didn't do all those things - well I did in my mind but mainly I concentrated on two NYR's - one was to be more positive, more optimistic about life. I have tried really hard to do this and apart from when I have been feeling crappy and ill, have tried to keep to it. I feel better for although I still have to regularly remind myself, I like it, I life living life to the positive - it helps - it make life better, it makes life easier.

The other NYR's was to stop buying books. This was really about saving money. As anyone will know who regularly reads my blog, money is tight and in the main I have stop being a consumer - I have had to. But somehow I have kept buying books, normally cheaply new or second hand but was still regularly buying books. In fact I have a massive pile to read and keep thinking one day I will have the time and the energy to just sit and plough through them.

I have failed miserably. It is not yet the end of February and I bet I have purchased the best part of twenty books - some second hand (I am still indulging my passion for second hand poetry books), some cheaply new (the pound shop has some pretty amazing hard backs and I picked one up the other day that was actually signed by the author), some in the Supermarket where £4 can buy a good current novel and today I went to Waterstones and 'bloo' £25 quid on new full price and reduced books.

And you know what I don't feel guilty, I really don't. I love books, I love reading them, I love owning them, I love looking at them and touching them, I love talking about them - I LOVE BOOKS.

So I will continue to buy books (luckily my local town does not have a decent book shop so the opportunity for new books is not so often), I will continue to trade and sell my read books, I will continue to love them. I will continue to find new books, to find other people with the same passion to talk about them. I will continue to buy books.

For what is life without a good book?

Dix

A personal post - being hurt

This is a very personal post and one I don't normally put on my blog but today I just have to write it down and get it out of my system as I feel so hurt.


Boy has done something (I can't go into details here) but just to stay it is pretty dirty and gross and he has done something like it before and we have talked about it and he has promised not to do it again - and yet he has.

I feel betrayed, I feel like I am being played - if he just keeps doing what he wants I will keep being nice, giving in and everything we go on as normal. I hear words come out of his mouth and I know they are lies and it reminds me of a friend, who has also been in care, who lies with everything she says. My family keep telling me I am too soft and he is playing me and sometimes I think they are right but other times I think I don't want to be that person who runs the home like a children's home, who treats him like a Looked After Child. And then he does this and I feel hurt and I feel beaten - like I have to be that carer who treats him like a Foster Child because that is the only way he can respond.

I was going to take away his computer consoles but I realise all that does it mean I have got to spend lots of time with him, and he will nag and moan and I will wish he was playing on his games. So I am going to handle it differently - he is going to keep his games and I am going to make him spend time on them - away from me. He has got to see how much he has hurt me; how much he has let me down again.

I have got to start making daily notes, thinking about reporting things back to the Social Worker; treating him like a Foster child because, at the moment, I feel like this is the only way he can respond.

It is not the way I want to live my life; but then neither is this - I feel like whatever I do I lose. Whatever I do - he loses.

Not a great place to be.

Landlord!

We have let the Cabin - at last. It is only for 6 weeks but it will be a good introduction to see how we get on being Landlords. To see how we cope with having someone live at the bottom of the garden.

The lady moving in seems nice, she has two children about the same age as Boy so he may end up having someone to play with for a couple of weeks. They don't go to his school but live locally.

The money will help for a while.

I am kinda excited and a little scared at the same time. I hope it works out or it could be a pretty grotty time - but going along with my positive thinking. It will work and it will help us financially.

Dix

Sleep

Thursday night I did my first night shift for a while. I have done some research (on line of course) about how to manage staying awake all night better. Firstly I should try and get some sleep before I go to work - I tried this but I really wanted to sleep around 3 pm but had to pick Boy up from school then so tried going to bed around 5pm and just couldn't sleep.

Secondly it said as long as you replace REM sleep which for most people is around 3 hours a night then in one day you can be totally back to normal. So as I had an appointment on Friday I managed to get about 3 hours sleep during the day Friday and then went to bed last night just after 10pm and slept until 9.30 this morning. And I must admit it seemed to have worked. I don't really feel much different (bearing in mind I often feel tired all the time anyway).

I quite enjoyed doing the night - there is no one to bother me, no one to piss me off and I got through the work well. Yes it is tiring and lots and lots of bloody cleaning especially 5 toilets - and you do often miss the next day in bed but hey, it is working at the mo so as far as I am concerned it is a solution.

In the middle of the night I did think to myself why am I just a glorified cleaner with a good degree and lots of experience. But then I thought my choices and things can always get better.

And there is a bit of good news, there is a job that I can apply for online (and in the paper unfortunately but at least I can try and be better than the competition). I am already thinking about how to write my supporting statement (as I feel like this is where it can be lost or won) and the hours of this job although not a lot would help us no end. If I keep thinking positively than things can only get better - right?

Dix

The Big Conversation

Last night I went to meeting about the Big Conversation. The Big Con should it be called. It was a meeting set up to give Foster Carers a voice in the cuts proposed for Children's Services. In other words asking us to think about who we want to cut so that the council and the government can say - look the people wanted these cuts - it was there decision.

As I sat in the meeting all I could think about was the film Brassed Off - this poor woman was optimistically trying to sell us this deal when I think we all knew that the decision had already been made, and that probably ultimately she was as likely to be a victim as us.

The suggestion is that all Foster Carer's will no longer come under the Council but will all be shipped out to Agency (I can't see how this is going to be cheaper but it sure will make some one huge amounts of money). Nobody could answer where Kinship Foster Carers stand in this deal, nobody could answer the question about cuts in Social Workers, Special Guardians, Youth schemes and so on. In fact there was a lot of no information that we were supposed to be discussing.

I left being worried, I left feeling that the most vulnerable people are going to be so badly affected by these cuts, that normal everyday people will lose their jobs and nobody will see it is wrong until we get another Baby P, or someone notices how many children in care end up in prison, or on the streets or worse.

On a personal basis not sure how I am going to manage with out my Foster Care Allowance - it has allowed me to take time out to be Boys parent, to give him time to settle and adjust to family life and if I am truly honest it has given me time to get used to him and being a parent again.

If the money is cut or taken away - will he stay - absolutely bloody yes, will it be hard, absolutely bloody yes. We will both have much less time for him , less money to allow him to do things and much less support from professionals who have supported us through this first year.

We should have more answers in February - or will we just have more flannel, more questions and more anger. Is this really what people voted for? Do we really have to take all the flack at the bottom when bankers and MP's and the very rich get off Scot free?

Glad I never voted for the wankers - don't get me wrong all politicians are the same. What is it 'Power corrupts -well we have certainly seen that with the Lib Dems!

And don't even get me started on the price of diesel!!!


Dix

Bad news

I got a phone call from my brother last night with really bad news - my cousin has died. He wasn't even 40 years old. I can't say I was really close to him - I wasn't, although I saw him last week at his dad's 80 birthday party. It was obvious he was very dark and very low and now I wish I had reached out to him more. I did have a conversation for which I will always be thankful but he wasn't in any of the pictures as he spent most of the time outside. I don't know how he died but I suspect the worst.

It seems like all this bad stuff is going on around me, effecting me and I am keeping my head above water. But last night it felt bad, it felt awful.

Tonight I have to work all night - something I agreed to just keep some money coming in - I am not looking forward to it but has to be done but I am worried on how this will effect my mental health. I suppose this is what my life is about now, struggling with money, struggling with relationships and bad news and just keeping well and keeping going and trying to be creative.

Somebody asked me the other day if I was a 'glass half full or glass half empty' sort of person and I said I was a 'glass half full' but at the moment I am struggling with this and want to say 'my glass is not half empty it is bloody empty'. But hey I know others are having it worse, my uncle and his wife and their three other children for one.

Dix

Deep felt sadness

I heard today that the husband of a friend has committed suicide. It is such sad news and has really rocked me. I knew that he had mental health problems and also they had marriage problems but you always hope that the 'darkness' will not be so bad that he feels the only option is death. It is at these time that I wish that I didn't understand but I do and seeing the terrible mess left behind I hope that will be enough to discourage 'bad thoughts' in the future. I feel the terrible pain of this children and wonder how this will affect them for the rest of their days - I understand my friends anger and sadness and guilt for what he has done and just hope they can all find a way forward, past funerals and paperwork, past recriminations and anger, past pain and tears and have a happy fulfulled and understanding future.

God be with them - God bless his soul.

Dix

Yesterday

Yesterday felt like it was going to be one of those days. I went for a walk on the beach which I enjoyed and met a new lady and her dog. Then I went to work (abit late as per usual). But on the way to work something happened. Entirely my fault but it just made me think again that only bad things seem to happen when we are down. When I think I have at last hit rock bottom - I haven't. And then all the old thoughts sat with me all day. Another bill to arrive - more trouble - the effect all this will have in the future. When life was good and money was ok these things didn't happen - life just rumbled along with the odd little hump and dip but now it is all mountain and valleys both of which seem to hard to climb or walk. And then I thought about where is my life going, my best mates from Uni are finding there futures (and so they should and I am really happy for them - they are young and have there whole life ahead of them whereas I am nearly 50 and still trying to find away), whereas I am returning to old jobs, old ways which I know are not fulfilling me in anyway. I search the job sites, I search the Internet for just a hint of inspiration but nothing just admin, admin, admin and a wealth of care jobs that I could apply for but they pay shit and I know I will struggle within them to feel fulfilled and happy. So I finished my first job and made my way home. I made my way home wondering how much more downward can I realistically take before it all seems like too much trouble.

And then nearing home I just looked up and noticed the sky was really blue. That beautiful blue of a happy summers day. And straight across the horizon sat this little pile of puffy white clouds, like little cotton wall balls all sat on a wall - very straight and very soft. And this made me smile and think of soft white towels after a bath; of clean sheets on the bed; of freshly iron t-shirts cuddly on the skin; of babies on sheepskin; of cuddly toys given in love; of hope; of love.

And as quick as that life didn't seem so bad. But why, all of the above first paragraph was true - my life still sucks at the moment; I am fearful; I am afraid of the future so how can a row of clouds change all that. I don't know how but I am thankful that I am at that stage where it can. Where a row of clouds can make me feel good; where a row of clouds can me me think creatively; where a row of clouds can give me hope. I am so thankful because when I am ill nothing can do this - nothing can intrude on my misery and give me hope.

In the evening I went to my other job - still feeling tired but feeling glad; glad my mate was working; glad I could laugh with her and the tenants, just glad I had some options. Yesterday I had the options to apply for two jobs and didn't know if I wanted either but at least I had the option and then I got a call to see about some other possible work so hey - maybe the clouds really worked.

Dix