Inner Monologue..s

I haven’t written in a while as my inner monologue had left me, yes I continued to talk to myself, but the other side wasn’t listening and I think it’s because I was boring me the fuck out.

Same moans and neurosis, same whine about ‘luck’ and a lotto win….

I’m still not sure what to write.

Do I write about how I bawled my eyes out as someone didn’t want me, or how I’m pushing someone else away because they do? Or do I write about how people at work can be so odd, it makes me question whether this really is reality or some tragic dream (theirs or mine?)

Do I write about how, how every passing moment I have no idea what is going on, how ‘one foot in front of the other’ is my new mantra…(used to be JFDI, same thing maybe)

Could do.

Or I could tell you about the walk in the countryside with a ‘friend’ ended up with a roll in a haystack, no, really…… or how a liaison ended up with a cat of nine tails, which I quite liked, or how being rejected has made me see a little hazier, that’s right, not clearer, not clearer at all.

Or I could tell you that yesterday was a major fail, finally got the no go on unrequited love, found a screw in my tyre, and broke a freaking mirror.

Well I guess I just kinda did write about it…..

Today? Today I felt better about, well about a lot, two black cats crossed my path, saw two Magpies and realised that somethings are just designed to happen( bollocks), some things you can’t change, and some things you can.

Today, I have also realised that I have some huge metal issues, HUGE, MASSIVE, and it’s starting to trace through to the ‘normal’ life I project, my crying was over heard by a neighbour, my kids are noticing my drinking and my family are backing off even though I know they don’t want to.

Perhaps I do need to go back on some meds, it just feels like I’m cheating, I’m cheating on the person I am, I’m by passing the feelings and crazy arsed shit, to make myself better for others.

But like I said in my last blog, aren’t we just living for others, as a Mother I know I should be.

I just can’t bring myself to numb someone who feels numb already.

That is a lie, I am not numb, I’m funny as fuck then dry as the Sahara, I’m happy as, as a pig in a bucket of apples? Or work bitch stitching up another mug, then I’m sadder then Pinocchio with Ass ears, or the last greasy sausage roll at Greggs…

It’s tiring trying to keep up with yourself…Will it stop….?

Give me 10  mins and I’ll tell you..Give me 30 and I’ll tell you something different..

Lets see what happens tomorrow, as they do say tomorrow is another day…

In my case another day and another 50 different people……

At least it’s not boring…….








To Covet

I have always not wanted to covet but covet non the less the lives I see other people having.

The over large smiles, the good hair, the BBQ’s in the sun, the groups of pretty girls and their adoring boyfriends.

I know full well that scrolling through Facestalker is evil, that you are only seeing what other people are allowing themselves to project.

I still want it though…..I think……

We all want that feeling of belonging, of having a nice easy time, of enjoy the simple things in life…

Maybe that’s where I’m going wrong, I do enjoy the simple things, I do have a feeling of belonging, I also want to feel more.

More of everything, I can’t help it, have 5 drinks, nope…I have to have 10, eat one packet of crisps, nope, I have to have 3, have sex once, nope I want it again straight after.

Could this be down to my misspent youth?


It’s likely, having said that, my eldest brother is the same, always questioning, always wanting something to happen but can’t quite bring himself to do anything about it, he suffers from mental health issues also, he’s too bloody clever, his mind never stops, unless he’s past out, and trust me after an evening or two with him it can get very intense so you inch the bottle of wine just that petite amount closer to his glass…I know…

So yesterday, I tried, I tried to be like the people on social media, I mowed the grass, washed up, cleaned up, sorted clothes, did shit like that, took kids and dogs on a walk and took pictures knowing I was going to post these, tell people about all I have done that day, and do you know what..?

I kinda worked, I did feel a bit better, alright the no booze and the sunshine probably helped but it was like I wanted other people to think I was a better person, so I almost became that better person….Is this what Facestalker and Twitter etc can do, is it like the modern day keeping up with the Jones or making yourself and your life seem better so you can natter about things at the village fete, whateves, the people already doing this might be onto something.

It wont be long however till I will revolt, stick it to the man and say fuck you arseholes, I’m not playing today.

But for now, I’ll see how this plays out.

Right I’m off to take pictures of myself pretending to work hard…..Oh come on, it’s a start……


There is just too much time to dwell and too much time to worry and too much time to mentally take running jumps at emotional flagellation.

Myself and two friends, all of us single, semi attractive and not at all stupid have come to the same conclusion that things are not what or how they should be.

There is so much pressure to feel ok that it is literally sending us nuts.

It’s making us ill, it’s making us anxious, it’s making us fail, when we aren’t even in the race to begin with.

If we don’t mow the lawn, or hoover or scrub the fucking bathroom, it’s a fail.

If we don’t finish all our work before we should, it’s a fail.

If we don’t not drink and give into a glass or 17 of wine, it’s a fail.

If we don’t have a boyfriend, yep, it’s a fail.

Pressure, pressure, pressure all the sodding time, life is changing so swiftly and resoundingly that it is scary, how do you keep up? Can we keep up? Do we really want to keep up?

It’s now got to the point where we are almost at the point of losing our shit, and for what?

Yes of course we know that we have it lucky, that there are people out in the world having a worse time, rape, murder, famine, you name it, they are having it.

All in proportion however, the blog is called First World Shit after all…….

Something needs to change within our mind set and fast, little jobs that I used to do now take days, no inclination to do anything, we are starting to go backwards…….It doesn’t matter how many talking to’s you give yourself it’s not working!

It could be that the nation is feeling fed up and it’s rubbing off, being bombarded with news of death and destruction and social media telling us to do this, think that, post this, post that.

The only thing I can think that might save us is winning the lotto, buying some land and building a fucking commune, that sounds like an ideal plan, no phones, no dread of what is too come, just simple stuff like cooking, feeding pigs and shit like that.

Something has to give, I just hope it’s not our sense of self or peace of mind (which we have already vacated it would seem).

Perhaps a friends pow wow is in order, shout at the sky for a bit, run around for no reason and laugh like kids…..Forget the rest of the world for a while, take our thoughts back to where they should be.

I wish I knew how to make us feel more like us and less us hollowed shelled.

It’s not mean’t to be like this….We aren’t meant to feel like this…….

Does everyone feel like this?

Jesus, it’s only Tuesday……….

Role on the fucking weekend……







A man wants to date me.

I’m not entirely sure how I feel about this, not the fact he would like to try and have a relationship, but if I’m ready to be dated.

Dating, Jesus it sounds so nice and easy and fun and whimsical.

It’s not though is it, it’s scary as hell, in fact I would feel more at home in the depths of burning knee shaking hell then I would having to keep up with text messages and making plans for the weekend.

I didn’t quite realise the extent of my phobia until today.

He’s nice, a bus driver (well I did say I wanted normality didn’t I), he’s funny, up for doing things and things….A father of two, divorced.

Even as I type I can feel my shoulders rising and I’m grinding my teeth, am I looking into it too much, I don’t think so. He is keen, very keen, too keen, far too keen.

I can’t cope with it. Yes it would be pleasant to spend time with a man, to sleep and I mean sleep with a man, to wake up next them and enjoy their company.

I’m just not there yet.

Now the dilemma is, do I tell him this? Do I tell him to back the fuck off and take every day as it comes ‘play it by ear’…..Am I stopping something in it’s tracks before it’s begun as that’s what I do?

Probably yes.

Does this have anything to do with the fact I’m still pining over the married man?

Probably yes.

Who is my waking thought? Who is the person I crave the attention of? Who is the man I want between my thighs?

Hmm. It’s the man I can’t have, Mr Freud……..please enter the room.

Now, am I desiring, the person I can not have because I know I can’t have them or is it because I’m in love with them?

It feels like the latter, but feelings lie, is desire for someone the same as wanting them.

Probably yes.

So the said married man is going away for two weeks with his wonderful family, there will be no contact, this will be the first time in months that a day has gone past with nothing.

This can only be a good thing, two weeks of concentrating on a new friendship and distancing myself my the one that I need to.

Will this be a bit painful? Will this be a touch heart wrenching, will this exactly what I fucking need.




The Climb.

That weekend was….was….odd.

Having picked up my friend from Heathrow, we debriefed on the way home, she was a mess, picking at her hands, unable to keep still, tearful.

3 weeks was just too long and what she did out there was unhealthy, for body and for mind.

Her semi boyfriend was horrid to her, her two friends (our mutual friends), were not as understanding as they could have been.

We came home, I ran her a bath, washed her clothed and we talked, I say we, she talked, about it all, I let her continue for as long as she needed.

We slept, we got up and ate and went into Town for a change of scenery, I could even see her physically change, shoulders less bunched, eyes less dead, not fixed, just not dead.

We went to a meeting, an NA meeting, this helped more than I thought it would, listening to other peoples stories and their own processes was fascinating and just what we needed, myself for the love affair of booze and her for that and for other things……

Just sharing, even a touch was therapeutic, needed and insightful. I recommend anyone with an issue with substances to go, and continue going.

Ok, so we went to the pub after but it’s a start, I have decided to come clean, I can not drink and stay sane, as soon as I have that one too many, I become one person too many.

Will I be able to stop for good, am I just kidding myself? One day at a time, as they say.

So I have been 2 days clean, my recovery will be slow, it will be hard and it will be needed.

Seeing someone else reach a lower ebb than you has almost made me see that I should start now, that the climb will be easier.

And so it begins.

Wish me luck.

The Jump

I went on a date just now, I’ve said that pictures lie, ok, no oil painting and not that close to how I saw him, but his clothes were nice, he was on time, lets roll with it, he’s from Manchester and sounded it, we had a blast actually, a really good time.

Now my ‘thing’ when dating is….Can I see myself sucking his dick…

If I can see myself, down on my knees somewhere seedy with gravel digging in and I still want to take his living essence then its a yes.

No second date, don’t pass GO, don’t take 200 measly pretend bucks…Leave the room.

Could I, nope, was I still thinking of the married man that got away, a little, ok…a lot.

However with the right date, then yes, so I am going to set up a date with this very pleasant, if not my type chap with a friend, darn right I am.

Not your usual after text, ‘If you would like a second date I would be up for that’….Er can I hook you up with my mate instead?…..

He agreed so it can’t be all that bad….

On the journey home, I got a text from the Pole, not sure I’ve written about him…

A couple of months ago, we went out, a Bank Holiday, had a good and easy flirtation evening, about to go home I saw him,standing waiting for the cash machine, I used the machine and we had a 5 minute conversation about the EU, I shit you not, so I took him home, his eyes are like dusky neediness….His body harder than a matrons bed.

It was an amazing night, hours, seriously hours, I gave up to have a shower, he followed…

So anyway, I gave him my number, as an experiment rather than anything else, he text, we have met couple of times, once at mine when the kids were at the cinema, another time on a Friday afternoon just after work, other then that the timings were just off. Oh there was this time I got him to come over but I fell asleep…..Ouch…

So he’s moving away, and wants to see me one more time, he is leaving his sleeping mother that’s come from Poland for one last jump….

Can’t say no, it’s really good sex. And like I said, I need to bang out the married man.

Who says exorcism doesn’t work….

I take it back.

Home Time.

The friend I went to Thailand with, and left I her there to meet other pals is coming back tomorrow morning, I will be picking her up from Heathrow at stupid O’Clock.

She said she is coming back broken, not in the back hand on forehead swooning, jokingly broken, but mentally broken.

Her on off boyfriend, which was in my opinion not the best choice of man for a rebound affair anyway, has finished with her, because she drinks too much, stays up too late, is slightly crazy…..

Well yes, I tend to agree, but as long as I’ve known her my friend has been like that, she picks men that are not her equal so therefore they feel insecure in the relationship, sad but true, they bully, harm and make her feel less, not giving, or warm or bringing something to the relationship.

Complete shits actually.

Now I’m picking her up, I will not be taking her home, I will be taking her to my home, I will feed her with good food and even more importantly some ideas on how to not go round the same destructive course as before.

Not so much advise, as who the fuck wants advise really…..I certainly don’t.

She needs to get there by herself, which she will, but with my help.

She know’s already where she goes wrong, she knows already everything I would say.

So I will listen, and hopefully she will hear herself, seeing someone else go through turmoil is as bad as going through it yourself, being emphatic by nature I will have to shake it off after this weekend or I can easily plummet to dark places, but for her I’m going to take that risk.

That’s what friends do don’t they..

Of course they do……