Yesterday I had the most difficult and troubled day since I started trying to open up to all the little hurts I’ve ever felt. It was always my intention to face them and then rid myself of them. I’ve been doing so well recently too but even I’m not such an idiot that I imagine even for one minute that my life will just miraculously improve. But yesterday slid from a backwards looking analysis of what went wrong with my life to me visiting my parents to find that over the weekend my mother had once again slipped out and got lost. My father sprang unto answer the phone hoping for news and became dizzy and fell into a sideboard hitting his head. I was then told very sweetly and kindly that my mother was being taken to a care home for respite or possibly forever right then. I agreed that to make it less of a struggle that I would drive her there by saying we were going on a little holiday together. And then once there while they misdirected her attention I left her. Oh it hurts so much that we live in an illusory world of fake austerity that robs most elderly people of all their dignity. 

Happier times with my mother, Diane and Sinta

Worse for my head was the fact that I selfishly asked my parents to let me have a weekend off so that I might spend two days doing some carefree things to lift my spirits. I booked an Airbnb so that I could concentrate on teaching my Henge friend how to sound heal. I thought it would be a good exercise in reminding me of the magic gift I have had since I was in my 20s to facilitate healing in others. I had started trying to write up all this information to share with you all and thought speaking it aloud again to someone would help me type it up later. The Tricksterverse however decided to throw a spanner in my plans. It took 5 hours to get into the house I had booked as I was sent the wrong door code. I can laugh now but I was stressed at the time.

I’ve been trying to break patterns and move forward by challenging myself to do things I wouldn’t. On Christmas day I joined the sea swimmers on the beach for a wintery watery plunge, Brrrrr! But it felt good even if my feet tried to ice over and walk away from the rest of my body.

I woke yesterday after my Sound Healing weekend with a huge empty void floating in the front of my head. What caused this? I’m never certain. More than anything it has been my mantra in life to be kind and helpful. Too kind and too helpful at times that it pains me that nobody returns the favour. And I am fiercely independent and rarely ask anyone for help or a shoulder to cry on but last year when I needed support I found that I had nobody and that was a very painful realisation and why I turned to the internet and my blog to express the feeling nobody wanted to hear. It’s like a diary of old that I’ve left out on my desk for anyone to read. I even left out my holiday snaps to be perused. Even the less flattering ones.

s compensation for my failed 50th birthday celebrations I promised myself to create changes in my life but to also try and do 50 things to help cheer myself up during this year. So far all those little things have just left me feeling more sad and alone. However I decided at Christmas to ordered 50 “Team Me” badges to wear to remind myself that I need to say no more often and try and please myself. But it seems that when I do try and please myself I am then teased or punished by fate in return. I’m not sure what other lesson I’m expected to learn? I was totally broken at 50 and I have picked myself back up and dusted myself down. I’ve quit bad habits, changed my diet, lost three stone or more (I never weigh myself), started at the gym 5 days a week, I don’t drink, smoke, or do drugs and I go to bed at 9pm. I’m a fucking saintly bore.

Yes I feel physically in better shape than ever in my life but I still feel crushed by life. I wake each day and I embrace life with zeal by hitting the gym at 6am but so often the day slides away with sick parents, nobody to hang out with and anger at wasting years loving a man who didn’t love me back. When will I turn a corner? I’ve heard it said that it takes 6 months to get over each year of a relationship. Which means I’ve another two and a half years on the current one and a further 6 years on my first!! Haha.

I was asked to write a speech about my mental health and the social care worries that my parents are suffering with. I forgot all about my Team Me promise and said yes. So I decided to write a poem to deliver. It was so raw and personal that it has opened a vast emotional rupture in my brain. The creative process of writing it was easy. It always is. But reading it aloud to practise delivering it is painful. It’s like creating a mantra of woe and misery when I was trying so hard to be upbeat. So yesterday when many of the things I’d written about my parents were all suddenly a very bitter reality I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. 

I am, as I said in my first ‘depression confession’ blog always an optimist at heart. I adore New Years. I love new beginnings and learning new things. But I am feeling trapped in a reality that is requiring me to return to old skills in order to survive. This is not something I do. I do not go backwards. Yet somehow all this looking backwards to see the things that hurt and cut them out to move forward has actually left me feeling full of regrets. I have never regretted anything ever in my life. But suddenly I find myself regretting choices I’ve made over the last few years especially not moving forwards to new challenges as I always have done. I drove my mother to her care home which is sadly just around the corner from my lover man who I can’t seem to let go of. Fate being cruel again. I saw his car parked in the street. I know I keep on about this like some sort of crazed stalker but for 7 years all I ever wanted was to lie in his arms where I felt so happy. I always told him it was my most favourite place in the world to be but he didn’t feel the same about me for much of that deluded time I spent with him. He was lying to me and not being honest and I know that now. He was being selfish and it has cost me my sanity and yet I’m so stressed and broken still by it even though I know he didn’t love me. He said he never meant to hurt me but that hurts the most. He just didn’t love me enough to realise how much he was hurting me beyond imagining. And I am so ashamed that after 7 months I still feel no better. I don’t want him back I just want him to explain why he let me pass up so many life chances to remain in his uncaring embrace? Will I ever heal from this wound? When might I be able to move on from this grief? Tomorrow if there’s any cosmic justice!!

A slither of eye in silver

When will my new life begin? When will I start to feel alive again with renewed hopefulness?

So I removed all my body hair but not in a Samson losing his strength kinda way. I did it to repainted silver so I could amuse myself, you and the kind photographer who agreed to paint me. I would say I felt a bit of a tit but I didn’t. I loved the experience. 50 is the new 30 and 2019 is all about doing things you never dreamed you might do.

This is how I often think of myself – as a big tit but I’m not really

I’ve spent so much time doing good acts and being kind and at every turn now I often lose myself and end up feeling more isolated and alone. I always end these honest but maudlin posts by saying that all is well and it is really. I do always feel much better after writing these and confessing publicly my headfucks. I read other people’s who say they are open about depression but often they just write positive platitudes with uplifting words that are designed to pat you on the back like a pet. I can’t seem to stop myself from vomiting raw and honest emotions that hurt me to type and yet the act of confessing is so cleansing. I will continue writing my Sound Healing posts now that this blip is out of me. I really did have to share this after I woke at 4am and decided that the 6am gym had to be missed today. I needed to write this and then shut my eyes again and hope to sleep the gloom off. Which I sort of did. I listened to Rebecca about psychopathic love and felt no better at all haha. So I got up and had breakfast and then finished writing this. Now I really do feel so much better. And while a part of me thinks i should not post this the strong braver part just pressed ‘Publish”!

Chat me up people

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