Sunrise

Blimey, so much as taken place, I’ve drunk too much, argued with friends, taken on new lovers and dismissed others.

Here’s one aspect of my week.

It was a friends birthday and a group of us got together to celebrate this, daytime drinking is always dangerous, always.

One of her friends that I had met before was hilarious, we clicked perfectly.

Our conversation flowed beautifully, ok, he came from Glasgow but the fact he sounded Klingon endeared him to me more, he is younger, not brilliantly hansom but cute, and funny, what a great combo. I knew he fancied me, women always know and if they haven’t got the instinct or they are being coy then more fool them, it’s empowering to watch how men look at you, what they say, their subconscious mannerisms, thrilling to be honest.

We had a wild night where in the end it was just the two us laughing in our friends house, the sun was coming up and I asked him how he liked the feel of fresh cut grass on bare feet as it slowly enveloped by dew, he said he didn’t know….Hmm….Not sure he was expecting me to go outside and take my shoes and socks off, but I did, I beckoned for him to follow, which he did, he turned to see the sun rise and being drunk and not giving a fuck I stripped off…

Yep, right there and then so when he turned round I was naked, dancing to the music still emitting from the house – Prince of course…

He didn’t follow suit but he did take me in his arms and tell me how this is one of his bests nights ever…The next day he messaged me and said he has never wanted to laugh so much while being so turned on…..

I know it was ‘out there’ and not very grown up, but then again what is grown up anyway. Life needs to be taken seriously, but not all the time.

He now calls me his bird of paradise.

Life should be about making memories, you have to make enough good ones as the bad are sometimes the only ones you call on.

Will I take up his invite to go Scotland? I doubt it, maybe we will meet again, but if not then a little part of me might just think of that night, next time I’m awake to see the sunrise.

 

 

 

 

I used to lie there….

I used to lie there, my nose pressed against the warm skin on your back, my knees curled like tangled hair into your lithe limbs.

I used to lie there with my arms wrapped tightly round yours, your smell enveloping me like the first sun in summer.

I used to lie there, wishing I could climb inside you, breathe your breath, see what you see.

I used to lie there, needing you even though you were still there, missing you as you will leave.

I used to lie there, seeing our children in my mind, living the sheltered life of love well spent.

I used to lie there, warm in the comfort knowing you were mine and I was yours, does your sleepy soul still look for mine?

I don’t lie there any more, someone has taken my place, no one will ever take yours. So now I just lie to myself.

To spite ones face.

Now most people do this at one point or more in their lives, they will have an opportunity, chance, possibility, prospect, something, that could better, enrich, enlighten their lives but they screw it, fuck it, bugger it up on purpose.

I do this, all the time, I can even see myself looking down, while I’m looking at the current life fiasco, I’m pointing and screaming at myself ‘WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING’….

My theory is that part of me doesn’t ever want me to be truly happy, that I don’t deserve it, almost to a point of self harm.

I can feel it creeping up from my toes like a swirl of hazy warmth.

That feeling where this feels good, I feel good, is this what ‘normal’ happy people feel like?

Then BAM, oh no you don’t, don’t you dare let this nice inner zen take hold, must fuck this up….Hmmm, inĀ so many ways and always enough time….

It’s like the other day, I had a really good date, we’ve met before and enjoyed each other and our company, this time also it was brilliant, we didn’t stop laughing and the sex was superb…..Oooo….He is boyfriend material, very clever, warm, attractive……………

So, I got drunk on the Sunday night and because I was…What?!? Bored, lonely, a psycho bitch from hell…And…hell bent on harming a very promising relationship…………….

I messaged him and ripped him a new arsehole, I was mean and catty and burnt that bridge so freaking quickly that I can never go back there. I did that, to myself and on purpose.

Unfortunately I did that last time too, with another man just as good and perfect for me.

Darn it, I don’t just do it with men, I could be sat there one second thinking it’s all going well in general, the house is clean and the children fed and beautiful, so of course the worm inside must turn and strike myself down with thoughts of world hunger and lack of money to the point where I’m sobbing as one day we will all die!

It is self harm, perhaps not in the most obvious way but none the less it is.

Or is it?

Many people have said that they can actually see the moment I change into someone else, they have said that my eyes change colour, my ex used to call me ‘El Vino’ as after a glass or two of wine he never knew which way the wind was going to blow, I’ve had Jekyll and Hyde, good cop and bad cop…

What if I am living as two people, one side is light and the other dark, most of the time I’m living with both but as soon as I drink the light side falls away in a plume of pink smoke, slowly waving with a sad face, while the dark side is thinking, fuck yes! While wearing black boots and giving everyone the finger.

The answer is to never drink again, never touch another drop. This as most of us know is easier said than done, I can no more exorcise the dark as then the dark can extinguish the light.

It’s just finding that happy medium or at least let the medium be happy…

Just for once.

 

 

Normal?

This morning I spent some time with a work colleague that is on the verge of a full blown break down.

He is in his late forties, divorced, not doing as well as he could be at work, a close friend and confidant, mother figure passed away in a blink or a shudder of an eye.

He cried, he said that he is constantly thinking about everything, everything.

I did explain to him that it is ‘normal’, don’t be so hard on yourself, cut yourself some slack.

 

I had another friend on the phone at the weekend, suicidal, been through a break up having to move, had a cousin kill herself…..

 

What is normal anyway? Do people talk to me because I’m screamingly tapped or can I just see aspects of myself in them and have the ability to give out advise that I’m usually terrible in taking.

Probably both.

I think one of best things I can ever tell people is that – Behind every closed door, down every street, in every town, in every country, is someone else just trying, and failing to be ‘normal’.

Everyone has their bug bears, fears, dread, loss.

Everyone. You are not alone even when you are alone.

It does concern me that we may be giving too much airtime to mental illness as perhaps it’s not an illness but ‘normality’, if we didn’t as a human race put so much pressure on what – In fact who, classes as normal!

I feel so much better from coming off the pills AND not drinking, yes the nightmares are back but surely that’s just a physical response to day to day life, your brain trying to process things in which you might not want to ‘normally’.

So next time you feel crap and you reach for the depths of the norm, just remember, there is no typical you, so, no expected person you should be. Just roll with the crazy and let the crazy roll over you.

You’re alright.

 

 

 

I’ll Dream to that…

 

This is the first week of something different.

I have been self un medicating, they stopped me from dreaming, they also stopped the nightmares and the screaming howling sweats in the night.

But they stopped the dreaming.

Now I have been lucky enough to have the ability to lucid dream, I can move place, time and even gender, I once dreamt I was Susan Sarandon as a child killer in the 6o’s….So you can glean a rough idea.

The anti depressants dulled how I felt, at the time that was what I wanted, I wanted to not feel, I wanted to not dream but now…

Now I’m ready, I might not be ready to fall in love again yet, I might not be ready to commit to someone else or date like an adult but I am ready to dream of doing so, of having aspirations again, for looking to the future and not concentrating so much on the sodding past!

Not everyone is programmed in the same manner, logical and practical, arty and flighty, warm or evil, that’s what makes the world a fucked up and pretty cool place.

And that starts now. I know you can’t click your fingers and you will be ok, it will be a slow process, it will be long and fast dog walks, keep the house clean, not letting the kids down, being a better person, but also not being so hard on the person I will become.

So whatever the future holds, it doesn’t involve taking little pills.

I’ll dream to that……

 

Catch 20’20

The idea of not dating has given me a tremendous feeling of lushness.

The only reason I’m now looking at my phone is to see random and lovely messages from my friends and work colleagues, all about different things, moments, stories and our mutual fun of life.

It’s very freeing, not having the over hanging shelf of neediness, did they text, why did they text, why didn’t they text.

It’s kinda good.

But it can be lonely. I had a friend calling my through Facestalker just so she could see my face, she’s not in a good place, she’s splitting up with yet another boyfriend, she’s over worked, has family issues and just needs a fucking cuddle.

Is loneliness the root of all evil, do we drink because we are lonely? Or are we lonely because we drink?

It’s a Catch 22, or Catch 20’20…..

No one can heal how you are feeling, no hug or good advise can change how you’re feeling, only you can do that, and only you can do this sober, trouble is you fix yourself, just a touch, and then you feel good so you want a drink, knowing full well it can only be the road to ruin…Or…This time it will be different.

Different my arse.

It’s been said before but…You can be in a room full of people and feel immensely lonely, or you can be with yourself and feel comfort…We all need to learn how to feel complete without other people, or other people will never feel complete…

With us.

Warped Paradox.

The date I went on last night was nothing if not insightful.

Pictures lie or rather pictures can be deceiving…Same thing?

Do we, when we are putting ourselves forward on dating websites or even social media have a warped, or give off a warped paradox of who we are?

Should we put up profile pictures of us on a bad day with fucked up hair, un-plucked tash and teeth not brushed? As hell, once we actually meet the person we and they can only be nicely surprised.

But….We don’t, we angle and light and squint and suck up and in. How many facies does it take before we are happy that we look nothing like the people we are.

Tons, more than tons, unless you are either strikingly wondrous or a great shot.

Do we look at look at the picture and think….Yeah man, that’ll do, it’s not a true representation so that’s great!

Yep. Well I do.

So far I haven’t had anyone complain but it does make you slightly more nervous as you don’t know what they expect, of course beauty is just skin deep but we are animals after all, you can have amazing conversation via messages but if there is no chemical snap then what’s the point.

Perhaps instead of a photo of our faces we should put up our DNA, match that to someone else’s and go from there, as this would be just as much use as a Tinder profile.

I digress.

Well, he was pleasant, but he did not look like the dusky hottie of his pictures, he was ginger even though I questioned him about this before…Don’t slate me we all have a type and red heads ent mine. He even had a little bit of a Titian speak on his front tooth, short and with terrible dress sense.

There is someone out there for him.

It’s just not me.

So, I’ve deleted Tinder and can no longer be bothered, I have of course set up to see a rather lovely young man next week, who will cook me dinner, have me in stitches, make love to me and leave in the morning.

Perhaps dating isn’t for everyone, and being a Nun….isn’t either.