I, BEING CRABBED

Having a duvet day 1

(photograph courtesy of Bridget Jones)

Today, I decided that I would have a ‘duvet day.’

I just did not want to face the big, wide world

Nor have it gazing and glaring down at me

I stayed in my pyjamas and remained stoically in bed

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Sometimes I just can’t face the mundane tasks of living

Like getting dressed and hobbling down the stairs

Only to find a heap of bills, statements and more

Shoved through my letterbox when my desire is to hide

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There’s a sink full of yesterday’s washing-up

Which I glance furtively at and then decide to ignore

There’s always tomorrow, after all, I ponder

My tomorrow usually starts around 2 am*

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I, being the night owl that I am, then stare

At the traffic jam of tasks calling out to be done

Then find myself full of beans and raring to go

I am a strange and solitary creature of the night

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I wipe over the kitchen surfaces with an antibacterial cloth

Scrubbing at bacteria that aren’t even there

But it says there are in the adverts, and I, being gullible

Am guided and persuaded to follow the herd

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I, the fool, fill the supermarket’s tills with profit

Getting a buzz out of parting with money I don’t possess

When I’m overdrawn at the bank, and credit cards

Are heavy under the weight of the money owing

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Which I, unable to make a payment, incur a charge

And subsequently I am crabbed and grouchy

I, wishing I were a millionaire and would purchase

This and that, and attempt to save the world

~~~

And then I wake in the morning and have breakfast with ‘Jeremy Kyle.’

And I yawn, and I then, crawl back under the duvet

And I, tired from my owl-like frantic activity of the night

Shut my eyes, somewhat ignorantly turning a deaf ear to the news

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But overall, despite dealing with the skeletons in my closet

I am content with my muddled lot, somewhat surprisingly

And I do appreciate those who make my merry-go-round

Of a life worth living and I love them with all my heart.

* Not entirely true – I write as if I were able to choose my waking and sleeping hours (minus carers – who I am very grateful for, of course).

CHAMELEON SKIN

 

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She is what she is … or is she, indeed?

She’s perplexed, befuddled, embroiled

Lost her mind along enmeshed journeys

She belongs, does she not to this world?

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Is she real or a trickster, a fraud inside?

Not knowing her mind, too caught up in lies

Or perhaps, revealing her open wounds

You win some, you lose some, just look in her eyes

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She’s not without fear though she’s scared of the thrill

The rollercoaster won’t come to an end

She writes her life’s story in ink, so black

You may wonder how her thoughts are penned

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Innocence seen, and innocence gone

A fight in a nightmare; she holds her breath

The howls can be heard from far away

Will she ever return from the brink of death

~~~

You know her, you don’t, you think that you may

She’s a friend, a soldier, blood-kin

She lives or she dies; knowing the shadow side

Unknown, she wears her chameleon skin

 

 

THE REASON FOR THE SEASON

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Well…..here we are again! It’s nearly Christmas and the country has gone mad! Everywhere you look, everywhere you go, people are pushing and shoving to get last minute bargains or expensive gifts to give to their loved ones and fill the childrens’ Christmas stockings. Food is selling so fast, the supermarkets can hardly keep up with filling the shelves quickly enough. Millions of trees are being chopped down to become fairy lit trees, and processed into cheap Christmas cards that will be hastily written, expensively posted, arriving at their destination only to be dropped into peoples’ rubbish bins (or if they’re really lucky, the recycle sack), after a few days of gathering dust on the mantlepiece! All for two days! Two days! And all that waste…. and for what?  For the sake of commercialism and ‘feeding’ the ‘fat-cats’ who are at the top, making all the profit and doing little of the work in most situations. Come the 25th we’ll all be sitting down and stuffing ourselves with turkey, stuffing, roast potatoes, chipolatas, pudding, cake, mince pies, chocolates and sweets, alcohol and so much more and then complaining we’ve all got bellyache! It’s all so much and yet there are hundreds or more hungry and homeless people in the country. To say nothing of the rest of the world which is another story entirely!

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I’m far from perfect. I know that and I include myself in the above but I am not sending numerous cards; instead I’m giving what I can afford to charities of my choosing and will probably send some e-cards to those fortunate enough to have technology at hand. I will chatting on the phone to those family members that I am still have contact with and to close friends (a privilege I appreciate); I have an artificial Christmas tree and Christmas dinner and ‘trimmings’ will not be over-extravagant. And you may cry “bah, humbug” at me but, truly, what on Earth has happened to Christmas?

I mean the real Christmas. I mean the real reason for the season? Where does Jesus fit into all this? Yes, many churches will be holding Christmas services and that’s when the churches are bursting at the seams, (once a year!). What about the rest of the year? Christmas is for giving – giving of ourselves to God as well as giving to those less fortunate than ourselves in every sense.

Where in the bible does it say “thou shalt stuff thyself with turkey”, or that “thou shalt have more Christmas cards than thy neighbour”?

What about the birth of Jesus? In the bible it reads (Luke 2:4-7, 10-11)

Joseph went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to the town of Bethlehem in Judea, the birthplace of King David. Joseph went there because he was a descendant of David. He went to register with Mary, who was promised in marriage to him. She was pregnant, and while they were in Bethlehem, the time came for her to have her baby. She gave birth to her first son, wrapped him in cloths and laid him in a manger—there was no room for them to stay in the inn.10 but the angel said to them, “Don’t be afraid! I am here with good news for you, which will bring great joy to all the people. 11 This very day in David’s town your Savior was born—Christ the Lord! 

This is what we need to be celebrating – the birth of our Lord and King who was born and came to save us from our sins and who died in order that we may have eternal life. I know for me, as a believer, that this fact brings me a lot of comfort and peace.

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But….don’t get me wrong! I am just speaking from my own point of view and beliefs. I respect the fact that everyone has their own ideas of what is right and what is wrong; what is true and what is not. I don’t intend to ram what I believe in down everybody else’s throats – I’m not really a Scrooge but I’m just saying….ok?!

SHINE ON

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THIS IS FOR ALL OF US HERE XXX

I am so honoured and privileged to be part of the blogging community I ‘belong’ to here.

I know blogging is worldwide and covers a multitude of people’s views. But I feel that once you start blogging, and following blogs you choose, you ‘meet’ so many people and make so many very valuable friends, most of whom have something in common. In the case of my blogging friends and myself, we have all been through hard/rough/awful/abusive times. Also, many of us experience some sort of mental health problem as a result of the huge trauma that we have had to endure or are still enduring.

And yet each one of us expresses lighter moments, joy, humour etc at times. We still shine despite all that we have been through. I think that is so courageous and admirable. Even if it’s only a millionth or a split second of our lives, we are all still able to shine despite the darkest, deepest thoughts, experiences and memories. Most importantly, we are all ‘here’, living and breathing even though many us, myself included, have tried so hard not to be. We are fighting our own individual battles, each different yet each similar. Yet, we are all fighting the same war; we are all batting for the same team, that of recovery or in essence, survival, and on the whole, we are winning, all be it a second at a time, a minute, an hour, day, week, month, year etc. Time is infinite.

I am so grateful for my friends amongst my ‘community’ and followers, who understand me, support me and care about me. You are unique, you are special, you are ‘real’ (all be it that we are virtual), you are all who you are, you are all…..you.

This is a message the world needs to hear: 

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Hugs, Ellie xxx

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.

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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.

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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.

I HAVE A RIGHT!

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(photo credit: Rudi-Can-Paralyze-X)

 

 

What is it with me?
Do I smell of something awful,
like the stench of rotting meat?
Do I have horns growing from my head?

Do you think me insane?
Do you see me as ‘crippled’
with my legs twisted and bent?
Do you still label me ‘Addict’?

I am none of these things
I am not crazy or demented
I am not something the cat dragged in
after the last rainstorm

I am sick and tired of the fighting,
of the anger, of the rage,
of the discrimination,
of the constant battle

I’m weary of daggers drawn,
of knives to my back,
of your bitter words,
your evil tongue

I need you
yet you reject me
I love you
yet you hate me

You deny me my warrant to live in this world
If this were war, we’d be in battle
If I were royalty, this would be treason
If there were justice, this would be murder

LISTEN! I am none of those things
I am loved; you are pained
I am blessed; you are cursed
I will survive.You will perish.

I HAVE A RIGHT TO LIVE IN THIS WORLD.

LEAVING ON A JET PLANE

Well….today is the last day that my sister will be here with us in England. She leaves my mum’s house at 1.30pm today, which is just over an hour from while I am writing this (although by the time I’ve finished this post, she will have gone). Her 28 hour flight takes off at 5.50pm, after which I shan’t see her for another 3-4 years :(( She phoned me this morning to say goodbye which is always hard. I so wish I could go to the airport with her and wave her off properly but I couldn’t manage the journey. Fortunately, my younger sister is going with her so she won’t be on her own. It’s always hard to let her go – we are such close sisters and I find missing her hard. Nevertheless, her life is out there in Australia and her husband and two almost grown-up children have missed her a lot while she’s been here so will be glad to have her home again.

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As we were growing up, we had our fair share of squabbles and ‘cat fights’ but never really fell out seriously nor hurt each other. She wasn’t abused by my father and finds it difficult to accept what I have said as being the truth. So, we’ve agreed to disagree on that one although it does hurt me to know that I don’t have her support. She got on with my dad really quite well and definitely without being abused. In fact, we ended up calling her “Daddy’s blue-eyed little girl”, which she was literally with her straight blond hair and beautiful blue eyes (taking after him), whereas I took after my mum with my common brown hair and brown eyes. But there was never any competition between us and I bore and bear no grudge that it was me who was the only child in our family who was abused.

Now she lives literally on the other side of the planet, the main differences between us are the obvious huge number of miles of land and sea between us and totally opposite time clocks and of course weather. Also she has two well-behaved teenagers who I hope to meet one day. I chat to them on the phone once in a while. My children are a ‘different kettle of fish’ altogether and hardly bear even mentioning, I am so angry with them because of how they treat me.

Well….it’s now 6.30pm, my time and she will be up in the air among the white and fluffy clouds and will soon be watching the sun go down, becoming just and orange glow.

The flight is with a ‘decent’ airline so the long journey (with two stopovers) shouldn’t be too unbearable although of course she will arrive home totally exhausted and it takes her days to recover from the jet-lag. Her family will be at the other end to greet as she gets off the plane and she will be happy to see them.

Farewell, my beloved sister. It was wonderful to be with you again and share an enormous hug. I’ll miss you so much but know that very soon we will be chatting on the phone as if we lived in the same street as the other! I love you so very much.

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TONIGHT

 

 

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Is everyone alright
if I give up the fight
just ‘cos I’m tired
of fighting tonight

It may be the fashion
to lack in compassion
but it hurts like hell
and I’ve had my ration

In a tight ball, I’m curled
and I won’t be unfurled
‘cos I’m not coming out
to this horrible world

And it just isn’t fine
and I don’t feel divine
being deprived of love
from those who are mine

So I hope it’s alright
if I give up the fight
just ‘cos I’m tired
of fighting tonight.

 

WHY BLOG AT ALL?

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).

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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!

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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!!………….