The Slow Song to Bethany

The sea echoes forth with its weary tide

slowing to lick precious salt from my toes.

Its beating wings build to a crescendo

in spray of white and wind.

The sea sings of carrying me away,

its retreat beckons me forward, to the

watery depths where Poseidon reigns

and justice hangs on a trident.

Cool ripples of watery hands clinging

to my warm flesh, their slippery fingers

struggling to find purchase whilst the ground

holds fast, planting my roots

in the yielding sand. The spray scurries back

to the jaws of the sea, relinquishing

its grasp in mock fear, gathering

reinforcements. To uproot me.

JC

I wrote this a while ago and found it again today. Thought this was the time to post it.

The State of Things

It was said of Van Gogh that life weighed too heavily on him. This seems a very apt statement at the moment. Everywhere I look life is weighing heavily on the people I care about. I continually feel like I am on the brink of buckling, that at any minute my knees will give way and I'll be face down in the pavement too weak to get back up.

Everyone around me seems to be feeling the same. Just as they feel they can't take any more another load is dumped on them and somehow they have to survive. There is an element of guilt over not being able to share each others' load. But in this time we are all floundering under the pressure unable to look to our left or our right, unable to really see those struggling around us.

We are together in this terrible time, but I've never felt so alone. The only thing we have to share is our own despair, which is something we feel selfish for doing. The world is shuffling along, crippled by the weight of our choices, forced to look down at our feet.

I guess we have lived through the lazy days where we could take in the sky, looking at the clouds. Basking in the metaphorical sunshine. We didn't see where our feet were headed, we didn't comprehend the true price of our leisure.

We pay for it now. And paybacks a bitch!

Where the Spectacles Fade

Travelling monkeys and circus shows.

They have nothing on the spectacle

where our love grows

with spine-tingling hope.

we wait for the façade to fade

to a duller, less faceted

version of the truth, where love is

expressed in the mundane.

To days of urbanities and chores,

the trudging steps of the everyday

to which the brave succumb.

Sentiment filed away

for special occasions

and passion a lukewarm memory.

That is not us, in this tangle

of sweat and earthiness, grounded

and in flight, simultaneously,

an intricate performance too real,

desperately clinging,

whilst inwardly fleeing

to the safety of the mundane.

Thought Season

An errant thought wanders around my mind

gathering dust, trying to find a friend

in the wide expanse of open field.

It is thought season.

All the errant thoughts have been scared out

of the undergrowth to fly for a brief glorious moment,

soaring through the azure skies

not sullied by cloud or rainstorm.

These clear effervescent strands of ideas

sparkled in the crisp, fresh air and were shot down.

They were gathered up and carried away,

limp and devoid of life, by the jaws of Doubt.

Now one errant thought remains

huddling in the corner as the night draws in.

Loss

I thought I had hit my my low for now. I thought packing up my things and leaving a course that I had always thought was my vocational path was the low point of this year.

I was wrong.

On Easter Monday my cat died. It may sound like a small thing to most people, but this was completely unexpected and I was away from home when it happened. This has affected me more than anything has for quite some time.

I tried for a long time to think why it had had such an impact. Yes I loved her and yes, she meant an awful lot, but so have others and their loss did not hit me this hard. After the initial shock I was able to look back at the time I had her and I realised she had symbolized much more than a pet for me.

I had got her 3 years ago, just before I went off sick from my job, which I never returned to, due to ME. I have lost so much to this illness over the years, missed out on a lot and for me my cat was the one thing it could not take from me. It sounds silly and irrational, but there it is. There have been many moments in my life where I have had to make sacrifices because of my illness, where I have given up personal relationships (probably wrongly) as too hard or overwhelming to cope with alongside everyday life. For me it was so important to maintain this facade of being able to manage the everyday things that relationships and personal connections became peripheral to my life.

Only in the last few years have I realised I have this the wrong way round. During the long months of my illness where I could have slid very easily into disability, quietly surrendering to the illness that constantly tests my mental strength, I got up every morning because there was a little soul that was depending on me. The simple task of getting up and feeding her was the difference between persevering and drifting into obscurity.

In return I received so much love and affection. She kept me company when I could not leave the house, she stopped me going mad in that pokey little flat all on my own. And now she is dead and it is difficult to sum this up to people. I had not realised how much of a unit we had become in my mind. I may not ever get the chance to have a family, I don't even have a home right now, but at least I had my Hattie. Well now I don't even have that.

This loss has magnified a gaping hole in my life and I don't even know how to start to fill it.

Addressing the Elephant

I am no longer going to be a teacher.

2 weeks ago something clicked in my brain and it finally said enough was enough. I got up that morning, like most mornings, tired but okay. My heart protested, told me I should not go in to the school where I have been placed for my teacher training. I tried to ignore feelings inside me as I got dressed. I cried as I gathered up my things and then I forced myself to stop with all my will so that I could go out in public.

I battled myself as I walked to the train station, reasoning out that it was too late to call in sick and that I could not possibly turn back. I battled hard to stem the waves of tears my heart battered me with, after all my mind is stronger than my heart. I got to the train station and rushed onto the waiting train, finding a seat easily.

Then it hit me. I had had this feeling before. This exact feeling is how I felt heading into my old call centre job when I was really ill. That is when my brain clicked.

I had to get out.

What had been building for the last few months suddenly flattened out like an enormous vista where I could see exactly how I had got here, to this point and what I had to do. I had not been happy for quite some time, but I stored it away, because happiness is not useful for me during these 2 training years. I knew they would be tough and I would have to 'Man up' and push through them, but it should have been different.

My brain might be stronger than my heart, but it doesn't always know best. I listened to my intuition, something I had been afraid to do, and every fiber of my being told me my situation was toxic and I had to get out. My brain took the hint.

It was right about 1 thing though, it was too late to call in sick. I went into work, worked the full day and then left knowing I would not be going back tomorrow.

I have gone against the judgement of all my friends and family who had spent the last few months urging me on, telling me I was doing the right thing carrying on. But they are not me. They cannot know what is best for me. If they do not like my decisions they can f**k off.

So what am I going to do now? I'm going to keep working on being happy. I know certain things make me happy so I am going to do those things. I am looking for a job, just something part time to stave off the unemployment blues I suffered from last year. I am not looking for a big career anymore. I do not need one. I need writing, crafts and artwork and so that is what I am going to do. I don't care whether it's any good or whether I pen a publishable novel. It's not about that for me, it never has been.

If that makes me an arse or pretentious or anything else you wanna call it then that's fine. I believe doing things for the sole purpose of being happy is becoming a crime these days. If it is, lock me up now because I'm not changing.

rant

So I reread the poem I posted and was going to put a comment on there but decided to just post on here instead. It's funny how things creep up on you before you realize it. I have had some good news this week, I received the highest mark I have ever got for an essay I handed in before christmas. This is a big deal and I should be really happy about it but I'm not. I got a little embarrassed and then tried to forget it.

I'm a little flat. I want to be positive and enjoy what I am doing but I am not. Low. I guess I am low. I'm just whining and need to pull my finger out of my butt and get on with things.

There are things I want. There are are things I thought I wanted and am now indifferent about and there are things I know I don't want. Hmmm...

Poem

I promised a poem to Mog, but I couldn't bring myself to post the silly little Haiku she wanted me to. Here's something else instead:

Everybody knows.

They hear in your prayers

silent voices that stop

you, right where you stand,

staring out to sea.

Everybody sees

the scars that bare your soul

in the light of morning

and touch eyes so full

of Sorrow’s darkness.

Everybody knows

the words you softly speak,

eyes closed tightly against

black that caresses

all atrocities.

Everybody sees

your broken body lie

disassembled by your

thoughts, scouring a pit

of mournful anguish.

Certainties

So been a long time yet again. My life is a little overwhelming I guess at the moment.

This whole teaching lark is somehow exactly what I thought it would be and also disappointing at the same time. Teaching seems to be as I expected but I am not how I expected. I don't mean that I'm not as good as I thought I'd be (I'm pretty average for where I am) I guess I thought I'd feel differently about it than I do.

It is something that I could do for the rest of my life but I'm not satisfied. I guess there isn't such a thing as too busy to think of the dreams you're missing out on. I know without any doubt that what I should be doing with my life is writing. For the first time in my life I know that. I don't just think it would be fun if I could get my bum in gear as a hobby to write a book in spare time from a real job, which is how I felt before.

I'm not satisfied playing at it anymore. The trouble is there is no practical way to do this so I must keep on the path I'm on and hope that one day I'll find my way back.

It is so weird for me at the moment, not sure how to talk about it. What is the phrase? Different day, same old sh*t.

I changed my life completely in the hope that my baggage might not follow me. Surprise, surprise it did. Only here I have none of the support I had back home. It's strange, I spent so many years dealing with the whole ME thing on my own and now I really don't know how I did it.

The problem is I'm struggling and it's really starting to worry me, but I can't really talk to anybody back home. This was the thing they worried about before I went and as soon as it is mentioned they will panic.

I am committed to this course of action and I will follow it through. I thought I'd be happier than this but I am probably more unhappy now. I keep telling myself this is temporary, that it is only a year.

But after that year I will still have the baggage. Every year my life gets smaller and I feel more unsatisfied.

Crying

I am crying out,

but can you hear me,

floating out here

past the drift.

I am crying out,

not sure the reason,

but here I am

all the same.

I am alright

I know that for certain

but what if alright

is not good enough?

I am fighting,

but can't see what I'm fighting,

something hidden

beyond my grip.

Is there a problem

behind no problems

something that I

have maybe missed?

I am crying,

crying out from the water

no direction

to head in.

I am crying out,

filling my lungs to shout

out to the darkness

to know I am here.

I posted this on my other blog about a month ago and it seems appropriate for today so thought I would post it here.

Moving On

So I'm off to Wales tomorrow and everybody keeps asking if I'm excited. The truth is I am not. I'm not dreading it either. There was so much to get done before I went that I was overwhelmed with the details. Now that I have slowly ticked my way through that list and I am sitting in my sister's house, now officially homeless, I feel a little numb.

It seems the only thing that has really made an impact is shipping my cat off to my parents. I had to take her to them as I cannot have her in my temporary accommodation. I knew that I would miss her but I wasn't prepared for the overwhelming grief I felt on not having her there.

But I am headed down a path and I must see it through. It is the right right path even though I have no idea where it leads. I guess I will have to see.

Wobble

I have no skill for certainty. It is something that has always eluded me, like a ghost of an idea skittering in the depths of my mind. Just when I think I know what I am about a distraction arrives to send me spinning in the opposite direction.

Of some things I am certain, for now, before the doubt sets in and I ask myself, if I got what I want would I really be happy? And then I start to doubt, doubt whether I'm up to it, whether I should save myself the embarrassment of defeat and shut myself away. Whether I am in fact happier as I am, in my cave by myself. Safe.

This is all pretty silly and I will press on regardless. Certain in my uncertainty, hoping that where I'm headed is better than where I've been. Hope is a funny and unexpected beast.

Definitely going to Wales

I am now officially going to Wales for my teacher training. I have jumped through the hoops required of me and the powers that be have given me the nod. Now starts the sorting of the practical things that come with moving house.

So much to do and only 7 weeks do it in.

Last Night

I was a little harsh last night. The night was good. I reconnected with somebody who had at one point been a good friend. N is so supportive and encouraging. I had forgotten how good it was to be around her and I felt inspired by her attitude.

I'm glad I went.

Tonight

I did not know what to do. That threw me. I couldn’t bring myself to look. That surprised me. Why couldn’t I look? I had no idea what I would feel when I did and that freaked me out. I did a runner. It’s not the first time. I’m just so disappointed in myself. What is wrong with me?

Part of me wanted to face it. I think I like the idea of it but not the reality. I cannot handle reality. It all looks so much better in my head. But I can’t live there anymore.

I failed.

Damn

Obsessing

What is with me that I can’t seem to sustain this whole happiness thing? I have been feeling pretty good lately. Spirits up, so to speak. I have plenty going on and plenty to look forward to. It’s a fresh start for me and I’ve really been feeling it in a good way.

Yesterday I slipped. I had a really down day for no apparent reason whatsoever. Of course there must be a reason, there is always a reason, but I could not pinpoint it. In the afternoon I fell off the ‘obsessing’ wagon. I became so completely bogged down with working out what was wrong with me that I made myself worse.

At this point I got out my tarot cards, which turned out to be a monumental mistake. I was not in the right frame of mind to interpret them properly and they only served to confuse me more. Then I spiralled down a line of questioning that I’m pretty sure is not healthy.

It seems when I fall off the wagon I do it in some style! One thing it has shown me though is how useless and unsettling this over-analytical obsessing really is. It makes no real positive difference, only negative.

I end up worrying about things that I shouldn’t be thinking about yet that may never happen. I know I have issues with paralysing fear and this impulse heightens that.

I have a very animal ‘freeze or retreat’ mechanism when it comes to fear. The first sign of the unknown has me either hightailing it in the opposite direction or being so frozen by fear that I cannot do anything.

The scariest part of this is that I know my fear stops me from being happy a lot of the time. Occasionally I will surprise myself and plough on regardless but not often. I am risk averse and it is costing me more than I am prepared to lose.

Heaven?

Last night I dreamed I was lying in bed. The sun danced in patterns across the crisp cotton bedding. It was early and a soft breeze crept in through the window I had opened last night. I had a memory of opening it to the night sky hoping the passage of air would break the heat of the evening. It had worked. It was the perfect temperature, warm and cosy under the covers but not oppressive. Fresh clean air circled around my cocoon tickling my nose with the faint scents of lavender mixed with the salty fragrance of the sea.

I felt safe and comforted by the warming presence at my back, his slow breath a gentle reminder I was not alone. A protective arm was draped across my stomach in sleeping disarray a weight anchoring me to the world, stopping me from getting trapped in my own head again.

I lay in the silence listening for the sounds of the coming day from outside. Somewhere in the world outside birds were cawing. There was no other sound, no cars or human disturbance to break the peace I felt and in that moment I imagined I could hear the waves braking on the shore.

I knew every inch of my small existence. I knew the informal garden beneath the window opened out into woodland to the east and that if I followed the path along the lush green field, which was slowly turning golden, to the west I would meet the sea. There the white surf skittered up the beach only to retreat towards the horizon.

All this I knew and yet it doesn’t exist, my little piece of Nirvana.

Steps

So this week has been a busy one. I have been scurrying around trying to arrange everything I need for September. I am surprised by how much I'm getting done. I am usually from the school of procrastination (why do anything today when it can be put off until tomorrow!), but without prompting or prodding I have pushed on through the 'to do' list.

The main practical hurdles I have to jump before I head to Wales are to spend some time observing in a Secondary School and learning to drive. The first easier than the second but both fairly time consuming.

I have filled in lots of forms, applied for student finance, organized some school observation, renewed my provisional driving license and sent off for my Criminal Records Bureau check.

All in all a very productive week and a positive step.

The things not said

This is a long one so please stick with it. At the end of this week I sit in a very different place to where I started it. At the beginning of the week I was at the stage where I was living just in the present. This may sound like an easy task, but for me it was a huge step forward.

My entire life I've spent living many lives simultaneously. My brain would race on ahead planning out every eventuality to a decision before it was made, whilst also playing through how they would be different if I had made a different choice before that. On the plane of my life there were so many hypothetical scenarios that I felt immobilized by them. I know from talking to others that this is linked to my ME. Quite how I'm unsure, but it is something every ME sufferer I've spoken to deals with. I have conversations that happen with people in my head that are so accurate I have trouble remembering if they really happened. I think through problems so thoroughly that by the time I voice my answers they sound like fact, when I have in fact made them up. I create whole worlds in my head where I can lose myself for hours at a time (sometimes whilst actually going about daily activities, including conversations with people!).

These are kinks in my brain that I have long since recognized as unchangeable parts of myself. Some of these I would not give up for anything as they are the source of my creativity and because I feel lonely without that constant companion in my mind. Others I have wished I could rid myself of.

Finally I achieved this. I have spent the last 3 weeks living in the now, making decisions as they arose and then moving on without any analysis. I have not obsessed about anything. This is huge progress. My not blogging for a while has helped with this. The temptation is always too strong not to dissect everything here, so I haven't.

The trouble came this week because I have news I want to share here. I have not talked about a decision I made 6 weeks ago or the events that followed because I did not want to think about it. I have waxed lyrical here about every move I've made in the last year and every time I have had to come back here and explain that it had not worked out. I didn't want to do that this time so I kept it to myself. I guess I will be telling the whole story in one go, so please bare with me on this mammoth sized posting.

At Easter I re-evaluated what I wanted and how I could get it and still enjoy myself. I knew wanted to get out of Norfolk, I wanted to teach and that one day I would like to be in a position to do my MA. I decided that I might have chosen the wrong age group to teach (there are reasons for this I may go into another time).

I applied for a teacher training course in Secondary level English in Aberystwyth (Wales). I viewed this as a long shot, thinking realistically I had no experience in that age group, and that I would need to re-apply next year.

3 weeks ago they asked me to go for an interview. It was a 6 hour drive each way. I thought the journey would be hell but it was easy compared to the interview. I left the interview feeling like I had been run over. I was not hopeful, but as soon as I left the interview I forgot about it. I figured there was nothing I could do from that point so I got on with my life.

Wednesday They offered me a place on the course. I was stunned. There are some hoops they want me to jump through before I arrive but none that are insurmountable. I have gone from not thinking ahead to having to as there is so much to do. Now though I get to concentrate on practical things not hypothetical scenarios that will never happen.

Blowing out the Cobwebs

I have felt blocked when it comes to my blog recently. I have been checking in with people, reading their blogs but leaving very few comments.

I looked at my template today and felt bogged down and heavy. The colours seemed oppressive so I have changed it and I already feel better. We'll see if any inspiration hits.

Connections

My Grandfather died 2 days ago. For me it feels odd how little this news affects me. I found out he was ill a week ago and now he is dead. In that week he has been mentioned more than he has my entire life combined, which is what I feel sad about.

My other Grandad died nearly 5 years ago and it was so different. He was my Mum's dad and he was such a huge part of my life that his loss was felt for a long time. Even now I miss him and situations and objects trigger memories. Memories I will treasure and pass on to my children (if I have any).

I only have one vague memory of my Dad's dad because I only met him once. I was 15 and we were visiting my Grandma and we popped in to see him before we travelled home. We weren't there long and no real connection was made.

It's just sad to me that I will never know him, know what he liked, what made him laugh. I feel more emotion thinking about the death of my old cat than I do my own Grandfather and there's a wrongness to that that really troubles me.

The decisions we make every day determine whether we stay connected to people. We make choices about our lives that mean we have to give up some things. We pull some people close and let others drift away, but do we ever really think about what that means, about what we are giving up?

I know I didn't. Maybe I should start.

Busy-ness

So it's 2 days until my first craft fair and I am so busy getting ready. Because of illness and laziness I was miles behind at the beginning of the week. I have spent the week so far up to my neck in fabric making cute little baby clothes and foam cubes covered in fabric.

At the moment I feel optimistic about having enough stuff to sell, it'll be a little on the light side but enough to get me to the end of the day I think. It's a little nerve wracking though.

I have been making things with fabric ever since I can remember and I love the feeling of creating something totally unique, attractive and useful all at the same time. But this is different. I've never really tried to sell what I've made before. I have made things for friends and family before but they have to at least pretend to like the items.

I'm putting myself out there. If it goes well then it could be the start of something but it might also bomb. Scary. So here comes the shameless plug, I will be setting up stall in Cloisters Hall at St Andrews Hall in Norwich on Saturday 9:30-3:30.

Will try to post some pictures of my endeavors at some point in the next few days. Anyway I must get back to making things.

Dead Lions

So yesterday whilst lying as still as possible on the floor letting a group of children on a sugar high stuff ice cubes down my back I came to several realizations. Firstly, this was perhaps the strangest thing I'd participated in on a Sunday for quite some time and also I didn't remember Dead Lions being this extreme.

It was slightly ironic after the week I've had that I would be excelling at Dead Lions by the end of it. (For those of you who don't know Dead Lions is a children's game where everybody has to lie really still whilst somebody distracts you. If you move you are out.) I have spent my week festering, first in bed and then on my sofabed surrounded by tissues and drugs with an extreme cold that wouldn't let me sleep but left me incapable of anything else. Needless to say a very frustrating week.

I am feeling a lot better now though, the cold is still there but manageable, and so found my way out of my house on Friday. I ventured to the beach, to Wells-next-to-Sea to be precise, I wrapped up like an eskimo (most unlike me), grabbed my camera and headed out into the cold. I was so fed up of the same four walls and my own company. I had a great time. It was freezing and I couldn't stay out long but I really needed it.

During the week I had an Epiphany. I realised just how much time I wasted on Facebook and how little I cared about the majority of things that go on there. Whilst I had the urge, before I backed out and stayed shackled to a website I hadn't wanted to join anyway, I deactivated my account. I have to say it feels great. definitely the right decision.

The weekend brought my Sister-in-Law's birthday which consisted of a birthday tea surrounded by children and party games. I won Dead Lions and ate a piece of Dora the Explorer birthday cake before heading home to my cat and the blissful silence.

Support

So it's been a week and I haven't posted anything up here. Now that I am I find I don't know what to say. I guess I say that a lot and I eventually find some self-centred drivel to post up here. At the moment I have plenty to be down about but I also have plenty to be thankful for. I thought I would take a moment to think about other people instead of myself.

I was just reading Mog's blog and I feel terrible for her. In some ways I know what she's going through as I have had money problems which meant that I went bankrupt just over a year ago. I know that for her her money troubles are worse as she has more to lose than I did. A lot of people are in this boat with her in this recession and I hope that they have the support network that I had as it makes all the difference. To Mog, I am here for you with whatever help you need. You are not alone.

My sister is currently embarking on the hard journey towards getting a degree at 32. I have to say I was dubious at first as she does tend to go off on whims and then get bored after a couple of months but she seems to be serious about this. This is a big deal for her as she has always believed herself too stupid for higher education, which is totally not true. She learns in a different way to the way they used to teach in schools back in our day (I sound really old!) and there was no support system for those who had trouble with the teaching methods. It was difficult for her and overcoming her own negative experiences has been a big challenge for her. I really hope it works out for her.

Another close friend of mine is caring for her parents. Everywhere she turns people treat her like she's after a free ride, like she's using her parents as an excuse to sponge off the government. I know the path she's chosen is a hard one, most of her time is spent looking after her parents or sorting problems for them. She hardly has any time for herself or her friends and the government treats her like scum. She has to fight for everything and I wish there was something to make her load a little lighter. All I can do is be there for her.

These three women all have their own problems and burdens but they are always there for me when I need them. They are my support network and I'm am extremely grateful for them. I hope they know I am here for them.

Slipping - Postcard Fiction

I met up with Mog today and we did some writing exercises and I promised I would blog the results so this is the first one. If you haven't been completely put off by this morsel feel free to check out the other on The Cherrypicker or Mog's work on Time to Tell the World.

Slipping

The condensation clung desperately to the glass as it began to slip down the vertical sides towards the mahogany stain table top. There it joined the amassing throng of water congregating at the ring. As the glass lifted free of the surface the water converged on the dry centre to be squashed by the returning glass.

Saul stared at the slowly changing water with marked concentration far beyond the capacity of his usual five pint threshold. It was becoming increasingly difficult to forget the hollow shell he wished to obliterate.

He raised his glass again and gulped down the dregs of his pint. The face that floated before him as a constant reminder faded with every swallow. One more pint should do the trick.

Pick Me Up

Hey, just to let you know out there that I haven't fallen into a big hole of despair. I have reread my post from last week and it is so negative. I am not going to apologize, although I did consider it, but I'm not. It was an honest view of where my head was at in that moment and I'm glad I put it out there.

I left the pity party fairly quickly and just got on with life. I really thought about what I was thinking at that point and threw it out. I went back to my original thinking about what was important to me and what I was going to do about it.

I got distracted by the possibilities and began concentrating on things from the wrong way round. My priority has always been being Happy above anything else including career. When I think about my recent disappointment in this frame of mind it doesn't seem that bad.

I have plans again. I am pressing on with my writing, because I have to try and feeling happy with my writing is the most important thing to me. I also haven't given up on teaching. I am going to get some advice about where I went wrong and what I can do to make myself more appealing to the university, then I'm going to re-apply next year.

Failure

I received word today that I didn't get into the second teaching course I applied for.

To say I’m not surprised is true, to say I’m miserable, perhaps also true, but mostly I’m terrified. Teaching was my practical option. My sensible choice. It was the thing that I figured I would enjoy and was the most likely to be successful of any of my courses of action. Now it has fallen through. I am completely without anchor because I’d convinced myself not to plan for every eventuality. I have no plan B at this stage, nothing to push me forward.

All other ideas of what would make me happy are not practical. I have spent many hours pouring over what I would like to be doing and none are financially viable:

I want another degree – I feel I wasted a lot of my 1^st degree and although I enjoyed the creative based work I would like to do something more theory based. The problem with this is that it would cost way more money than I could ever think to afford.

I want to write – If I could make a living from writing my life would be wonderful. It is my dream to be able to write knowing I didn’t need any other form of income. This is problematic as it is highly unlikely to ever happen. Even if I manage to get published it is unlikely to bring me large enough sums of money to make ends meet.

I want an MA – Again my need for intellectual stimulation rears its ugly head. What I would really like is to push through to PHD level and teach University level students. The problem with this is again financial. It would cost a lot more than I could find to do this. It is not an option.

I love designing and making things – I have been making handmade baby clothes the past few weeks as something to fill my time. I have booked a table at some small craft fairs over the next few months to see if they sell. I love doing this, it feels so calming but this is also not a practical way of making money. My output on making these things is not enough to make any decent money from them. It’s a nice supplement to any income but not an income in it’s own right.

These are all I have left in my list of things I would enjoy doing, none of which are practical options. I know I can’t go back to working in an office again it just kills me physically and mentally. Shops are also a no no because of my ME (I have trouble shopping in shops on my own let alone working in one).

I keep reaching, trying to find a solution, an option of some kind that is not going to make me ill and I come back with nothing. Where I go from here I don’t know and that scares the hell out of me.

waking up

I wrote 1500 words today. I have been having trouble getting sat down and writing something that isn't just self-indulgent drivel but this is not awful. It is actually something that fits with a project I keep trying to get off the ground which is good news.

Don't get me wrong it's really rubbish at the moment and it's going to need a hell of lot of work. But its something and something feels good.

A small step away from complete inactivity.

Procrastination

My ability to procrastinate shocks even me sometimes. I have spent the week doing pretty much fuck all, apart from reading a couple of books. I’ve not even got dressed most days, preferring to veg on the sofa in my PJs. I have plans, plans I’m excited about, but the more I think about it the more immobile I become, the longer I lay in bed and the less I seem to do of anything. I know this habit, its one I’m very familiar with but I have yet to learn to break it. I know what I want which is a real rarity for me and now I’m left frustrated with my own lack of movement on these issues.

I guess the problem is more about my own need to know what I’m doing and the possible outcomes before proceeding. This is ok in principle but what happens when I don’t know where it will lead? This is what happens, the rabbit in headlights look descends. It really winds me up because not all my life is like that. Most of my life I have sorted in my head and I have the possible outcomes all mapped out. I know how to get those things therefore I can predict a series of outcomes that I am ready for.

There is only one thing that I haven’t been able to sort out in my head. This is because I don’t know how proceed because I’ve never done it before. I have very little frame of reference to draw from having just happened upon it the last time, besides I would not want to base anything I do now on that as it was such a spectacular disaster!

My brain doesn’t function without a plan, at all. I haven’t got a clue how I’m going to get this particular thing on the list. As usual if there’s just one thing that’s not 100% thought through my brain goes into shut down. It’s like ‘Wing it?... Do not compute!’ I get absolutely nothing done, even the stuff I know what I’m doing with. I have no idea how to break this particular manifestation of my inner control freak and it’s annoying the hell out of me.

Any suggestions?