First thing this morning, a massive stack of bricks arrived along with an enormous sack of cement mix, all plonked on my front lawn beside the skip. two hours later, five scruffy workmen turned up and five minutes later, three had buggered off! They stood, looking up at my gable end, scratching their chins. They were supposed to be taking down the brickwork on the side of my house. They then informed me that they didn’t have the polytunnel with which to shoot the bricks from the roof down to the skip so Fred said he’d have to go back to the yard and fetch one. He was gone two hours and came back without one so it was scratching chins again! They stopped for their first tea break. Then after much “mmm…ing and aah…ing”, they decided they build one out of planks of wood (somewhat primitive!). Eventually they’d got it made and lifted up the side of the scaffolding and climbed up there too.

Bit by bit, they started to demolish the wall, chipping away at the cement and dropping one brick after another down the wooden chute, crashing into the skip. (Oh, I must have been so popular with the neighbours!) The noise ran right through the house and right through my head too. Soon, it was time to climb into the cab of their truck for another tea break. Back to work it was, then. The skip was getting full and such a glorious sight on a sunny morning…not! There it was, sitting there with half my house piled up in it.


(image credit –

I couldn’t get outside so could only imagine what a mess it was up at the gable end. They announced that they’d got down to the breeze-blocks or the inside wall of the house. They took a couple of tiles off the roof and stated that there was no ‘bracing’ up there,  tying the bricks to the rafters of the house which was potentially dangerous. It had to be done and they informed me that bit wasn’t covered by the insurance and would cost yours truly, £200, which I haven’t got. They assured me that if this bracing was not fitted, and the gable end to come down again, it wouldn’t be covered by insurance as it would be classified as neglect. Then, followed a frantic phone call to my Mum asking if she could lend me the money to which she kindly agreed (phew!!).

One of the builders then went to fetch the bracing from a building yard or maybe even B&Q for all I know! Tea break time again, back at the ranch! The wanderer returned with said bracing. They should have ordered that the week before but obviously didn’t. . Another tea and fag break, after which they decided to call it a day and left saying the brickies would be here shortly to start rebuilding and bracing the wall.


(image credit: radharc images)

A welcome peace reigned until an hour later when the phone rang….It was the brickies saying they wouldn’t be able to come on account of the weather!! The weather?! The sun was shining and no rain was forecast till next week. I told them so and they replied that it was raining where they were! (a tropical monsoon, I thought?!). Well that was their excuse and they were sticking to it, never mind the fact that rain is forecast here for most of next week. This was hopeless…It was rapidly turning into….a ‘Right said Fred…’ job (for those of you old enough to remember the song)….it goes like this:



In no particular order…

1. to get things off my chest.
2. relate to others in similar situations.
3. to share my feelings.
4. to get support and hear advice and opinions.
5. to support others in their situations.
6. to make and keep friends.
7. you are all out there in cyber-world but I still class you as my dear and close friends.
8. although we’ve never met, I still feel like I’m chatting on the phone to you.
9. to learn about others’ interests and values.

                  10. because I care about you; I love you all and I can send {{{hugs}}}




I feel a real hypocrite writing this blog after my last post but I’ve been up all night with no sleep and just need to get this off my chest.

Today, my carer took me down to see my Mum (a rare happening because of distance). I worry about her as she’s not in the best of health and can’t get out much. I only get the opportunity to see her every six months or so. So we left early in the morning and drove the hour and a half it took to get there. Its the same house that i grew up in; the same house that my dad abused and raped me in all of my childhood. We drew up outside and I just couldn’t bring myself to go in so waited in the car while my carer, H went and got Mum as we were taking her out to eat. Mum’s never believed me about dad so she didn’t/wouldn’t understand why I wouldn’t go in.

My dad has died now and she’s lives there alone but the house hasn’t changed, or the road it’s in. It looked as foreboding as it was back then and I was being attacked by panic and flashbacks while I was on my own, sitting outside, waiting for H and Mum. That house…Mum’s house; Dad’s house; Mum and dad’s house which was Mummy and Daddy’s house. I felt vulnerable although logically knew I was perfectly safe now but that didn’t help. That house!


photo credit:

Eventually, they appeared at the front door and came down the steps to reach the car. I took a deep breath and told myself to ‘pull myself together’, knowing full well that I couldn’t, not inside of me at least. My stomach doing somersaults and images, sounds, feelings attacking my heart and soul. Nevertheless, I got through it and greeted Mum cheerfully. She was pleased to see me and added that I looked too thin (as usual).

We drove off much to my relief and went to a little local bistro we’d been to before, to have lunch. I’d calmed down a bit by then. Nice place. We sat eating lunch, which was good, and drinking coffee and just talking for hours. It was a pleasant few hours apart from the fact that every now and then, the subject of my father came up and I was away; off; back in time; back at that time. I shuddered and tried to get myself back into the present. I used techniques my therapist had taught me and managed to maintain a calm exterior while my insides had gone to jelly.

We left to go and drop my Mum back at that house and on the way back from there, we went right past the top of road where my teacher lived who had abused me so appallingly when I went for private ‘lessons’ twice a week.Triggers were everywhere! Suddenly, I was being attacked just as I’d let my guard down a little and I finally broke down with just H and I in the car. She knew. I knew she knew but she was so tied up with her own relationship problems that she was of little help.

So, there was me, on my own inside my head, trying to deal with this ‘stuff’. I tried diversionary tactics, I counted the trees; I followed the sat. nav. even though I wasn’t driving the car; I counted backwards in twos etc. and eventually made it back home, much to my relief.

H helped me into my PJs and I should have gone to bed but my mind was still buzzing with the day’s activities, thoughts and emotions. I started to write this. I kept going off to ‘la-la land’ and eventually with much spacing out and nil on the sleep scale, I arrived here at daybreak. Shattered, exhausted, vulnerable still, mouth tasting stale from too much coffee and not enough toothpaste.

My morning carer will be here in about half an hour, breezing in as usual when all I want to do now I ‘breeze’ my way up to bed. Bit late (or early) for that! I have a busy day today and I’m all behind with emails so sorry friends but I will reply asap.

Anyway, here I am, having survived which is exactly what i keep intended to do and will do so despite the odds. So thanks for keeping me company in the small, dark hours. Another day.


Why blog? Why do we blog? What are we trying to achieve? Who do we want to be heard by? Why?

All of us here in our WordPress world, blog, otherwise you wouldn’t be reading this. But why do we do it? Why do we need our voice to be heard by potentially thousands of others, if not more, most of whom hardly know us or don’t know us at all. and yet, here we all are, on our own little laptops, iphones, whatever; in our own little offices/livingrooms/bedrooms/public space etc, etc. And most of us have no idea where in the world the person who hides themselves behind an avatar, lives. I daresay, we’re splattered all over this globe of ours! And who are we? Many of us choose to remain anonymous voices using the added phrase, ” names and places have been changed to protect the identities of others” (or of ourselves).


What do we want to achieve by blogging? Many of us, including myself blog because they want ‘to get something off their chest’, air our opinion or have a good rant about something that is bugging us. Or maybe we are budding authors practicing our writing skills out on the public. Some of us blog competitively, to see how many followers we can trail behind us and have accompanying us on our journey. Others like to watch the ‘stats’ go up and gain great satisfaction if they can get more ‘hits’ than their neighbour. Many of us like to get ‘comments’ or at least some feedback for our efforts!


Is blogging addictive? I know I find my blogging is. I look forward to the evening when I can settle down to try and think things through, decide (out of the million ideas whizzing around my brain), which to write about, decide whether i feel like being ‘artistic’ and add images to my blog in the hope of making it more appealing to the eye and to the reader.

Then comes spelling! Fortunately, most of us have the added bonus of spellcheck (without which, many mistakes would go unnoticed,( in my case, at least). Next comes grammar and punctuation! Personally, I know mine is far from perfect despite having achieved an A Level in English Language (although I was a dead loss at literature). I think I use commas and semicolons far too freely, and liberally scatter them all over my page,;,;,;,;,;,;,;!

My main problem is not wanting to stop once I get started! Many a night I have gone without sufficient sleep in order to complete my blog to my satisfaction. But then, I am never satisfied with what I have written; never thinking it worthwhile, of any interest to anybody else etc, etc. But then I have to stop and think that I am doing this for myself, not for the benefit of others but who am I kidding?!

As for tonight, I must stop gabbling on; add my title (which I always do last) and my tags. Now my finger hovers cautiously over that little blue button, knowing with one click my blog goes out there, out into the universe for one and all to see. Dare I? Do I? Shall I not, and trash the whole thing. Well, here goes anyway.Look out world, here I come!!………….


Tonight, my thoughts are as black as the midnight sky

without so much as a twinkling of light from the stars up above.

‘I know not why’, as Shakespeare wrote in The Merchant of Venice,

other than the fact that it is as it is and it seems to have settled

upon my shoulders, the weight of which is pulling me down further

into the abyss of my currently pre-occupied mind. 


I have no desire to be as a snake crawling through grass

but more a bird, a Jay with its colours, on the wing, in full flight 

Oh, to be a bird and not a snake!

Oh, to soar in the rays of the midday sun.

Yet no, a dull haze comes upon my head and shoulders

And a darkness descends where there was once light

and the gloom travels through my soul.


I say that I protest! It should not be this way!

I shrug to shake off the dim veil descending upon my crown

I push back the clouds and let the sun shine down on me

I am resolute; no longer hesitant and cautious

My wrath, inside, screams to be released into the heavens

rather than carved into my body: Scar upon scar, no more.


I have come too far on my journey to be beaten down again

I have fought a long and hard battle to get here,

where I am entitled to be; to live; to survive.

Even to feel the gentle caress of happiness upon my skin

is a welcome change from the harsh touch of misery. 

I will do this; determination set fast; I will win!










I live in fear of disclosing myself to my fullest

although my minimum appears too much sometimes.

Because of certain and particular other’s misinterpretations,

I dare not show myself in all my hues or shades.


I would be rejected, damned to hell and never forgiven.

I dare not even hint at who ‘others’ are as I am so fearful of their retaliation

‘Others’ have no heart, no thought, no consideration of where

or who I happen to be or what I might be feeling, let alone my opinions.


Sometimes, I yearn to be a star in the night sky or a moonbeam shining down brightly

but alas, I must remain a heavy cloud at midnight, waiting to see the first light of dawn so I may shade the sun.

I am dull, like an old coin, when occasionally I am longing to be an emerald or a sapphire.

I wish to live in the daylight, not hide in the darkness with not even a shadow for company



Now I’ve got my new electric wheelchair (long-awaited and much appreciated….Thanks, Mum x), I’ve got my independence back after so many years! Although I still need care three times a day to eat, shower, dress etc, I can now get out by myself…freedom! Look out world, here I come!! 


My first trip out was to the local shops, mostly the Co-Op store. I got there without running anyone over and without getting a speeding ticket! Mind you, I do have an ‘L Plate’ tied to the back of my chair….genuinely…and I need it! I very naughtily, rewarded myself with a box of McVities Jaffa Cakes knowing full well that i would scoff them all…yes, all twelve in one sitting! What a piggy!!

I really must stop referring to it as ‘my electric chair’ as that conjures up awful images of the prisoner’s demise. (I don’t wish to offend anyone in the USA or wherever this practice is carried out). I’m supposed to use the term ‘my powerchair’ but somehow that just seems far too pretentious and grandiose for a little bod like me! So, I must remember to say ‘my electric wheelchair’ which is a bit of a mouthful.

Anyway, back to my travels… I’ve been to church in it which was a bit of a disaster as the person behind me couldn’t see through my headrest so I got a friend to remove it as it is superfluous to me anyway as I’m such a shortass! That seemed to be more acceptable amongst the pews. i was going to stay for coffee but there were so many children running out in front of me, that I chose to leave early as opposed to being responsible for runing little toes over! The journey home was fairly uneventful until I had to go down a lane that was just full of potholes! I thought my wheelchair was going to topple over because the ground was so uneven that I got shaken up like a jar of jelly beans.


Will I do it again? Yes…I’ve got to get used to it if I want my freedom (and I do so love it really). So, it’s off to church again on Sunday to see how many people I can bump into…I get five points for a policeman, ten points for a traffic warden, twenty points for a vicar and fifty points for a nun!



I just had to share this. I’ve never seen anyone of this age sing so joyfully and bringing so many smiles to so many faces. It’s a real ‘feel good’ song.

Ok, it may be just an X-Factor performance by a young girl (so you have to put up with Simon Cowell, smiling, for a change!).

I hope it brightens your day as it has mine! xxx 🙂