Cutting Some Slack

Sitting here blankly, staring at the wall
Asking myself why I’m still here at all
Only two days ago, laughing and joking
Anguish has returned, prodding and poking

I’ve been making such effort all day today
Holding in misery and fearful to say
Just when I thought it’ll all be okay
Depression decided to come out to play

Keep my head in the clouds, feet on the floor
Hoping joy will return to knock on the door
Fighting the sadness, I’m not giving in
Not knowing how or where to begin

Tired though I am; I’ve got to keep running
Fighting off memories; keep the good coming
Therapy fading and slipping away
Making the most of each session, each day

I’m trying so hard again not to lose hope
Nearly evening now, and it’s tough to cope
How do I start to cut me some slack?
Come on, start climbing; no looking back.





Image by Dr StClaire from Pixabay



Catharsis

Let my fears float away
in a hot air balloon
above the dark clouds
and up to the moon

All my pain and the anger
sent up to the sky
the winds blow them gently
as I watch them fly by

Rip up scarred words
and burn them with sage
watch them all wither
and releasing the rage

Try punching a pillow
or let out a scream
digging for gold
or my lost self-esteem

Bang on a drum
play music so loud
don’t need permission
it’s fine; it’s allowed

Write down my thoughts
draw out a sketch
pin them up on the wall
and take a deep breath

Let your grievances lapse
write a gratitude list
swaddle the hurting
while angels are kissed.

I’ve had a more positive day today, so it’s made a nice change and was quite some relief, too. I hope it lasts, but even if it’s just a little taster of how life could be, it’s been good to be able to write something a bit more upbeat.

I wrote this after having a conversation with my counsellor yesterday. She asked me, totally out of the blue, what I’d like to do with all my pain, trauma and nightmarish memories. On the spur of the moment, without giving it much thought, I just came out with, ‘I’d like to put them in a hot air balloon and let them float up to the sky until the balloon is completely out of view.’

(I’ve also just started reading a book by a WP blogging friend, Tamara. If you’re reading this, Tamara, thank you for all your support and for letting me know about your books. I can see so much of myself in them. If you’d like me to link you to this post, just contact me, and I’ll be more than happy to do so.)

I’ve just started to draw a sketch of my imaginary balloon. It’s too late to finish and post it here tonight, but if I get it finished by tomorrow, I’ll add it to this post then.





Not exactly a sketch, but a very amateur attempt at drawing/colouring a picture of a hot air balloon. As you can see, I’m not an expert at art!

Ellie Thompson

Staring at Walls

A sense of numbness resides in my brain.
protecting me from the constant, repeating pain
of losing not a loved one but someone I treasure
whose help and support have been words I could measure

Six weeks of sessions left may sound like a lot
but from my side of the fence, it feels like it’s not
as my mind takes over and makes all the rules
I still dissociate and find myself staring at walls

I go elsewhere in my head to escape the trauma
that exists in my core with me trapped in the corner
with him calling the shots; the bastard, the shit
I’m rarely foul-mouthed, but he deserves all of it

I must try my best with the short time I have left
Try not to melt or disappear when feeling bereft
The time will go quickly; then, they’ll be no more C*
I wonder and worry how much they’ll be left of me

If I find someone new; if I get on the long list
I’ll still wish I was with C*; she’ll be so sorely missed
It won’t be the same as when I first started out
Will I be able to trust again? Right now, I’m in doubt


Now I’m counting the minutes, the hours and the days
like a kindergarten game or a new nursery craze
There’s so much of me still needing to mend
Who will I finally be if I ever get to the end?

*C – Counsellor

Image source – Photo by Aron Visuals on Unsplash

Climbing The Ladder

(Photo by Nick Page on Unsplash)

Drowning in anguish sucked the life out of me
I expressed my personal agony for all to see
I was travelling through the days full of tragedy
Not getting where I really wanted to be

***

Each day spending far too long in bed
Fighting off the unwanted thoughts in my head
Often wishing to be numb, sometimes dead
Now, I’m wanting to live life again instead

***

I want to be rid of the despair, anger and hate
Let them go, leave them standing at the garden gate
There was far too much pain sitting on my plate
Now is the time to cleanse, release and recreate

***

I’ve written my life story in excruciating rhyme
Feeling all the misery like joy was the crime
Feeling deep sorrow for losing so much time
Please hold my hand while I begin the long climb

***

Life was pretty tough when it all went wrong
I’ve been sitting on the bottom rung for far too long
Forgot to tell myself that I’m still brave and strong
Now, I’m wanting to sing a brand-new song

***

Not saying it’s going to be easy but I’ll try
Not saying I won’t be sad because I might still cry
Not saying it’s the end as I don’t want to die
Not saying I won’t need you, so please stand by.




Fight Song (Video & Lyrics🎶)

(NotSalmon – Google Images)

I was scrolling through some videos on YouTube this evening and came across this one (below). It’s called ‘Fight Song’ by Rachel Platten. I found the lyrics very uplifting, so I thought I’d share them here. I especially love the lines – “Losing friends and I’m chasing sleep; Everybody’s worried about me; In too deep, say I’m in too deep (In too deep); And it’s been two years, I miss my home, But there’s a fire burning in my bones; Still believe; Yeah, I still believe.”

I know you are all aware of what a difficult and painful journey I’m on currently, and I’m not saying I’m over it all yet (I wish it were that easy), but this song gave me hope, which meant a lot to me. I can’t say that I won’t need to share any more of my emotionally raw poetry as that is also cathartic, but for tonight, I’ll hang on tightly to these words; perhaps, they will give me some new strength. I hope so.

Please, take the time to listen to this beautiful song; read the lyrics and do let me know what you think of them. With my heartfelt thanks … Love to you all … Ellie 🦢 Xxx 💖💛💝

Like a small boat
On the ocean
Sending big waves
Into motion
Like how a single word
Can make a heart open
I might only have one match
But I can make an explosion

And all those things I didn’t say
Wrecking balls inside my brain
I will scream them loud tonight
Can you hear my voice this time?

This is my fight song
Take back my life song
Prove I’m alright song
My power’s turned on
Starting right now I’ll be strong
I’ll play my fight song
And I don’t really care if nobody else believes
‘Cause I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me

Losing friends and I’m chasing sleep
Everybody’s worried about me
In too deep
Say I’m in too deep (in too deep)
And it’s been two years I miss my home
But there’s a fire burning in my bones
Still believe
Yeah, I still believe

And all those things I didn’t say
Wrecking balls inside my brain
I will scream them loud tonight
Can you hear my voice this time?

This is my fight song
Take back my life song
Prove I’m alright song
My power’s turned on
Starting right now I’ll be strong
I’ll play my fight song
And I don’t really care if nobody else believes
‘Cause I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me

A lot of fight left in me

Like a small boat
On the ocean
Sending big waves
Into motion
Like how a single word
Can make a heart open
I might only have one match
But I can make an explosion

This is my fight song
Take back my life song
Prove I’m alright song
My power’s turned on
Starting right now I’ll be strong (I’ll be strong)
I’ll play my fight song
And I don’t really care if nobody else believes
‘Cause I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me

Know I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me

Audience of One

(Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash)

I thought I might be on the road to healing

Well, it’s about time, too, they say

Questioning me with persistence

As I died a little more that day

~~~

Do you think this is simply a drama

Played to the audience through neon lights

Just a show for your pleasure, ma’am

While I instantly freeze with stage fright

~~~

Where are those skills you’ve learned

The ones that are meant to help you cope

You really ought to try harder, they say

As I turn away, giving up all hope

~~~

You’re no spring chicken; get on with your life

Don’t you think you’ve wasted enough years

Dragging up the past; c’mon, time to move on

Wipe away those crocodile tears

~~~

But I still have flashbacks; they haunt my mind

I can’t tell you how they scare me so

You don’t understand where I’ve been in my life

What d’you mean, you’re now ready to go

~~~

I’m angry now for those harsh words spoken

But I can’t get allow myself to scream and shout

I am choking back salty tears of utter despair

I just wish I could let go and cry it all out

~~~

Perhaps, it’s better you depart now

Go, get in your car if you must

Don’t come back here asking questions

My lips are sealed; ne’er again will I trust.

Dissociative Healing

Image by Ulrike Leone from Pixabay

The past came back to haunt me yesterday
I thought I was over all that
It suddenly came flooding back
When opposite my counsellor, I sat

I cried a river of tears
As I remembered the sickening pain
I didn’t want to go back to that place
To experience everything again

The adult within me departed
Although I was sat in my seat
I could feel myself drifting away
As my heart skipped its regular beat

My thoughts were transported elsewhere
To a time so long ago
The world seemed unreal as time transposed
My agony completely on show

I had gone somewhere else in my mind
Somewhere distant and safe
I couldn’t be touched from where I was hidden
As I became the child, the waif

Gradually soft words broke through
It’s okay, you’re secure, you’re here
The voice, far away, waited patiently
Till the muffled speech became clear

Her voice brought me back to the room
My head cleared as she reached out her hand
The fear left and the pain abated
As I began to understand

My adult returned; it was time to go
Slowly, I walked to the door
I thanked her and smiled as the sun shone in
For I knew I was healing for sure.

THE ART OF HUGGING

cute monkeys hugging

Hugging – have you seriously thought about hugging? It has multiple benefits, and we should all be doing more of it. If we were, half the wars and battles wouldn’t be taking place, and thank the Lord that no-one has invented an anti-hugging vaccination. Hugs are much more life-preserving and also far more pleasant than coming down with a nasty case of chickenpox or the flu.

Did you know that you need at least one hug a day for reassurance, two a day for survival, four for maintenance and eight for growth? This fact would explain why I am reasonably ‘happy little bunny’ still breathing, in reasonable ‘nick’ but only two-feet-and-eight-inches tall.

If anyone would like to contribute to another few inches of height, I wouldn’t object or turn you away.

Hugging is environmentally friendly and ecologically sound. It builds self-esteem and also builds strong arm and shoulder muscles both of which are far less costly than building another new block of apartments and therefore, is economically viable.

It slows down aging which probably means I’ll feel like I’m ninety-seven before I reach sixty given that I live alone and don’t have a handy partner or nearby children.

However, I do hug the odd friend, (as I tend to prefer my friends to be a little on the peculiar side, like myself rather than conventionally rational).

I have to confess that I have a rather unusual habit in that I have been, on the odd occasion, known to approach and embrace a complete stranger. Hugging in those circumstances is sometimes okay, especially when it is to offer comfort or solace.

However, there are times such as when it’s with the bus driver en route or a waiter with a full tray of tea and scones which are not a wise idea. Also, cuddling up with the airplane pilot of a Jumbo Jet in mid-flight, or offering an embrace with Her Majesty, The Queen in the middle of giving her Christmas speech, etc., it can be seen as somewhat inappropriate.

Hugging also releases the feel-good hormone, oxytocin that is nature’s anti-depressant, so if they were readily available, we would have a lot more warm and happy people about and a lot less diazepam/valium needed.

A first rate hug ideally needs to have two elements, a hugger, and a huggee, preferably willing participants and not someone like ‘The Incredible Hulk’ squeezing the life out of a reluctant Miniature Chihuahua. Likewise, a hug needs to be shared between two beings, or more if near to hand as clutching thin air is no better than attempting to embrace a boa-constrictor.

At this point, I should say that I am offering free demonstrations. In addition, all contributions to myself will be gratefully received as I am saving up for my Blue-Peter badge.

healing hugs

 

THE BRIGHTEST STAR IN THE SKY.

I write, not to impress others, not to make an impact, not to gain ‘Likes’ or ‘Stats’ but to express my deepest feelings when I have no other way of expressing them other than to self-sabotage in some way which I’m trying hard not to do (although not always succeeding).

I am hurting, hurting very much because I am being deprived of contact with my grandchildren, all three of them and one on the way. I saw this picture and it made me think that perhaps when I’m dead and gone, they will think of me as the brightest star in the sky shining down on them. On the other hand, they may not think of me at all, if ever…I just don’t know but then I guess none of us do.

stars1

In the meantime, I will love; I will love with all my heart and with everything I have got and wrap it up in pretty parcels for each one of you, my little missing ones. A hug will, of course, accompany each parcel. I will wait; I will wait for a long time; I will wait forever; I will always be waiting my darlings.

waiting

I long for my daughter or my son to pick the phone up one day and for me to hear the words “How are you, Mum?” But it’s not likely to happen. In the eight years since my first grandchild was born, it has never happened and I know it’s never likely to. Some say I am a pessimist. I say I am a realist with maybe a touch of pessimism which I think is fair and just, given the circumstances.

Oh, how I long to take you in my arms, my little ones, and hold you, hug you, tell you how much I love you; how much I’ve always loved you; how much I miss you being in my life; how much I miss being in your lives. I dream I will be invited to your sports’ day, your school play where you maybe play the sheep in the nativity play, a school concert to watch you play recorder, trying so hard to get the notes right. I dream of having your paintings and drawings adorn my kitchen cupboard doors and all over the freezer, to find bits of your Lego down the side of my sofa, to find a felt tip pen rolled under the table; anything to remind me of you.

I live in hope. I hope in vain. I hurt. I really hurt as salty tears roll down my face. They say that tears are nature’s way of healing…..If that were so, I would have healed the world by now.

SUSHILA – MY LATE FRIEND

I feel i want to express a short tribute to my dear friend, Sushila, who we sadly lost this week. This is with express permission of her family.

 

Sushila was 42 and lived in the UK, some way from me but we spoke on the phone often and met up when we could. She was a very compassionate Social Worker, working with disabled young adults and she loved her work. She never married, nor had children – i think she put everything she had emotionally, into her work. However, she did have a lovely, big softy of a dog called Tizzy. (Her family obviously don’t want me to publish Sushila’s photo but here is a photo of Tizzy when she was a pup). She is so cute and much loved by all and is now being looked after and re-homed with friends close to where she lived.

Image

 

Most of her family lived in Rajasthan, India and were Hindus, as was she and Hindus believe that after you die, you are reincarnated according to how you behaved in your previous life (as in the following excerpt):

‘There is one thing that is certain in this lifetime: eventually we all must die. A belief in the cyclical reincarnation of the soul is one of the foundations of the Hindu religion. Death is viewed as a natural aspect of life, and there are numerous epic tales, sacred scriptures, and vedic guidance that describe the reason for death’s existence, the rituals that should be performed surrounding it, and the many possible destinations of the soul after departure from its earthly existence. While the ultimate goal is to transcend the need to return to life on earth, all Hindus believe they will be reborn into a future that is based primarily on their past thoughts and actions’.

 

Sushila was travelling back from visiting friends in Leeds when she was involved in a fatal road accident. She was travelling alone and both cars involved were a write-off. The police and ambulance crew said she was killed outright and wouldn’t have suffered which i thank God for. The other driver and passenger are in hospital, one in critical condition, the other, stable.

 

Her family are obviously devastated and a service will be held for her in the UK in two weeks time, after which, her body (that term makes it sound so impersonal), will be flown back to her family in Rajasthan for a traditional Hindu funeral. I will be unable to attend that service but will be going to the service here in two weeks time. I miss her so much already and can’t yet believe that she is no longer with us. They say ‘time is a great healer’ but that is of no comfort right now.

 

Sushila’s name actually means ‘a good charactered woman’…..how apt, how fitting, how appropriate for someone who devoted their short life to caring for others less fortunate than herself.

 

SUSHILA, MY DEAR FRIEND….REST IN PEACE XXX.

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