Self Love

24 08 2009

My ‘Coincidence date’ turned out to last the majority of the weekend, and I have to admit I had a really good time.

Not least because the company was easy, I had forgotten what it was like to talk to someone about ‘real’ life. My few years in Spain have passed by in a cloud of drunken hazes, non-stop people and a feeling of being completely out of reality. Being back in the UK has brought home to me a lot that my life there was make believe, the situations I faced, the things I took part in, made part of my life, have very little resemblance to what is judged as normal living here.

I still haven’t found a job here in the UK, though I may have a little one lined up that will help me while I find real work. Its nothing at all great just in a shop, but it gives me breathing time while I continue to send off CV’s and applications for things I actually want to do. 3 years out of normal work doesn’t really help me with finding work here in the UK right now, but as always I have to just keep applying myself and hope I turn a corner.

This weekend has brought me some smiles I have to say, Friday night we went for drinks and just ended up talking about all the years that have passed since we saw each other last. The conversation was easy, was fun and there was obviously still an attraction after all this time.

Saturday we spent the day together, wandering around Folkestone, seafood on the harbour, drinks in little pubs by the sea, exploring the coast, we tucked ourselves up in the corner of a restaurant as night set in and swapped stories as we ate. It really was a pretty memorable day in a quiet relaxed way. I have a feeling we are going to be seeing a lot more of each other. BUT, I also know that before I can commit myself to a relationship I have to face some things about myself.

My drinking habits have to be controlled. I’ve dropped major hints in this blog about my actions in drink, I have literally destroyed so much in my life and in other peoples lives because quite simply, I drink too much and I have another side of me, probably the ugliest side you will ever see in a person that rears its head when I full on drink.

But if that was the only thing then I would be ok, but there is of course more, there is the way I view myself and the way that view of myself comes across in my conduct. I’m not lying when I say the world scares the shit out of me, the thought of living in the real world makes me literally shake, you see all the time I am letting myself go along in my own bubble, all the time I am simply running and not facing up to the consequences of my actions I can shut out the real world, I can hide away from the questions, but its no longer right for me to do that. I have to learn to accept that I am a person, bad or not, and I have to live by the rules to an extent.

I have debated with the notion lately that I may be bi-polar, the shoe seems to fit, but in other ways it doesn’t seem to fit at all. Probably because I know I have a problem while I am led to believe that bi-polar sufferers in the majority don’t. One thing I do accept is there is a side of me that is hard to label. I have heard many times how paranoid I am, I am so highly conscious of what isn’t said in words from other people, I am so hyper sensitive about things that are said to me, or the way I say things to other people. My self esteem is low, its got to be, even though sometimes I can appear confidence, the truth is people scare me to death, I always think I am saying, do, thinking, acting the wrong way. It’s almost like sometimes I mirror other peoples actions so I appear normal. No matter what happens in life I have this voice telling me I will fail. I destroy things before they even have a chance because of that voice, I retreat, I run away, I literally press that self destruct button and explode in front of people…anything to bring on the finish of something.

I don’t want to live like this.

I know part of it is to do with my childhood, I know that, but at what time can I stop blaming the past, at what time can I truly stand up and say no it won’t ruin my present anymore? My real mother both made and destroyed me before I had a chance to grow like normal people, its true that babies are like flowers, without nurture, without warmth, they grow weak and wild. That’s what I am, I am wild, I take chances that most of you will never have too, I make decisions and live moments that most of you would never bring on yourself. I am wild, but its is my weakness that makes me wild. Its not strength that has kept me going, it’s the opposite. Inside I am scared, I am vulnerable, I am lost. I grow half in the light, half in the dark, I wasn’t covered or prepared for the changing of the seasons I just had to battle it out as they come along, there was no guidance. My moods are notorious, I feel pain in as greater force as I feel the highs, but neither of them is rational, neither is calm. I only feel calm when I am truly alone.

I am jealous of those who know love, I am jealous of the stars, of the moon, of the random man on the street, I am jealous of each of you that has love in your life. My adopted parents have tried hard to love me, I know, even when I have made it incredibly hard for anyone to like me let alone feel love towards me. But always in between their love is the fact that they love my real mother more … simply because she is their natural offspring. No matter how much she has destroyed me their love for her is unwavering, is real maternal instinct. An instinct my own mother never possessed. The day my real Mum first abandoned me to their care, she took her dog and left me, I am jealous of that dog, where she would have a kick for me, she would have a pat for the dog. All the years afterwards with her in and out of my life, even as an adult when she still feels the need to slight me at every turn I make, still I let her, still I feel each pain as if its new.

I want to know about this thing called love, but I need to learn it from inside, I need to heal, I need to learn to find something to love inside of me. I just don’t know where to start.


Amusing Coincidences

20 08 2009

Paper diaries long since stored away in the attic of the home where I spent most of my time growing up, diaries not looked at, not thought about for years. I take them down and look through, searching for my entries about him. So few, so typical of me never to write about the day to day happenings, so typical that my words are kept for times when I simply don’t understand, when I want to reflect or grieve or put to rest.

I read the first entry, my words seem to fit with my eighteen year old mind, I was so naïve, so vulnerable. Turning 18 to most people means being given the keys to the city, first legal drinks in bars, finally being a fully fledged adult. 18 to me meant something different. It meant I have survived the stormy childhood years and more deeply to me, it meant I had survived the solitary times that come after my 15th birthday, times that I know in my heart I need to write about, to set myself free from, but I have never in the years that have followed managed to find the words, I am still not sure if any words would be enough to tell you how the forgotten girl really did become forgotten.

But I am swaying … back to when I was 18. Living in my maisonette I shared with a friend, running around wild, I was alive, I was free. Hair down to our waists, gold jewellery, frilly gypsy tops and floating skirts. A mark 4 Escort … constantly grinding my gears, Whitney Houston sang My love is your love as we passed the joint around the room and we lived on curried spring roll and chips from the chip shop downstairs.

17th August 1999

He’s so handsome, just a fraction taller than me, dark skin with eyes as dark as my own but bigger, its like he has stepped out of one of the books I read and right into my path. When he came and sat next to me in the car today and started telling me how pretty I was and asked me to be his girl I thought I might have to pinch myself to believe it, how could he possibly have noticed me?

Fast forward a few months, surrounding by empty bottles, half smoked joints, dramatic comings and goings that seem so normal at that age, snuggling in single beds, eviction orders, sleeping bodies in the bath and on the stairs, one day I noticed he was no longer there amongst the debris of our assorted lives. He just vanished, I never knew where and I don’t remember trying too hard to find out.

Who would have thought back then (we didn’t even have mobile phones!) that one day we could just log onto a social networking site like Facebook and find people so easily. Which is exactly what has happened. And strangely (check the dates here) ten years on I receive this message through facebook

17th August 2009

it’s mad that we have found each other on this! Look I have really enjoyed catching up with you through these messages and was thinking since we’re both in the country right now how about we meet for a drink? Completely up to you, no pressure but thought it would be fun to have a proper catch up! x

amusing coincidence no?

Full Circle

8 08 2009

I seem to have come full circle. These last few months I seem to drift from day to day with no routine and certainly no aim. I am back in the UK, I spent a month licking my wounds in Spain, staying here and there, trying to find some sense of purpose, of reason, a lesson that I could take with me after the craziness that Andrew brought to my life, to my mind. I found very little, instead I found myself yearning for home.

So I came back, tail between legs to the people who are as good … no sorry better … than my own parents ever could have been and here I am. I have licked my wounds, I have moved on from the time. As I always do, no tears after the initial drama, no long conversations with people about the ifs and whys. Just matter of fact me. It happened, life happens, let us all leave it be.

Now I found myself feeling stagnant, I have no job, I have no money, not used to relying on people to help me, not used to feeling so claustrophobic I seem to find myself looking around me a lot trying to keep my running shoes in sight even when those shoes need repairing.

6 weeks, at the beginning when I still had some money I kept up my façade of being a social butterfly, sure I laughed in the right places, told the right jokes, drank the right drinks – I’ve gotten good at pretending. But as the money dwindled away and the nights out become less and the quiet time crept in I found myself reverting to my own mind for company and that’s still where I stay.

I am still in the wilderness. I know I should be trying to find my way back home to me, trying to gain some sense of direction so I can lead myself out of here, but instead I seem to be dreaming of impossible things, of people who don’t and never will exist, losing myself in sweet yet destructive day dreams.

My friends here seem to be simply people of the past, moving backwards has never been an option for me and now I am trying it I understand why that was, the past is simply that, the past. It is not in align with the present.

I wish I could write when I feel upbeat and positive but as each day passes I feel a little bit more of that fall away.