Make it easy on yourself…

2019 has barely gotten going & it’s been rough already. In a matter of weeks I have lost my baby & my boyfriend, which is less than an auspicious beginning. If I sound flippant, I’m not, I’m just trying very hard to put one foot in front of the other.

The demise of my pregnancy is devastating. My relationship’s end is sad, but the right decision and that’s about all I have to say on the topic. I find myself approaching the year (and my life) alone again. Being single hasn’t ever worried me all that much. I’m definitely not scared to be that kind of alone. Childlessness on the other hand, terrifies me. What do you when you’re facing your biggest fear? I haven’t a fucking a clue.

#projectpostit

For the time being I have taken the clichéd approach of one day at a time. I’m trying not to spend every day at home in my jammies (there is however a lot of crying on the sofa). Functioning is a struggle for a multitude of reasons. Primarily, I am exhausted. I’m always tired. Add even less sleep, the effort it takes to contain my anger at life itself, the fact that I will not stop bleeding, so despite the blood transfusion my haemoglobin level continues to flag and you get extreme fatigue. Having a different emotion every 5 seconds is tiring. Battling (& often failing) to contain the tears is wearing. Breathing & washing & conversing & not screaming is all taking gargantuan effort. The truth is I’m not managing very much. I’m practising being ok with that.

Blood transfusion, Rose wine, snuggling cat, reading baby

I recommend spending time with people who don’t expect too much of you. I’m giving priority to anything that give me comfort; my little people & potatoes pretty much have that covered. Hot baths have featured heavily as has ‘fake it ’til you make it’ make up. There was one afternoon of day drinking with a lovely friend that actually helped a lot, but not something it would be wise to make a habit of. My purring cat is a godsend. I’m reading, sleeping whenever I can and endeavouring to be gentle with myself.

ly h Kerr

I have no clue how to tackle the overwhelming sense of guilt. Chipping away at how ‘not fair’ this is may well take the rest of my life. I’m focusing on the small stuff. Giving myself a pass on the growing mountain of washing, the ideas that go unpitched and being awfully rude to the person who called about my non-existent road traffic accident. I find it harder than you’d imagine to let that stuff go. Being hard on myself comes easy. i have learned that when life gets you on the ground it’s worth tackling the instinct to kick oneself whilst already down.

Sunset

Advertisements

This week I have been mostly..

Catching up with things including my fav Friday night shows. I was delighted to see Robbie Williams on Graham Norton. As I laughed along to his stories & did some sofa dancing to his new I song I realised how much I love Robbie. Queue a day of Robbie tunes old and new (thanks Apple Music) & I have decided he is seriously underrated. Don’t believe me? Read on. 

Let’s start with his latest offering, Party like a Russian. This is prime Robbie; a little social commentary, a little humour & lot of William’s cheeky charm. The lyrics are cleverly simple, but effectively taking a pop whilst not going overboard. The music has an incorrigible beat & some sinister Russian sounding strings (it’s actually from Sergei Prokofiev’s Romeo & Juliet) going on. All in all it’s a winner. 

And now, I want to take you way back. All the way to ’97 when I was 17 & the Robster was on his 1st album. Old before I die fitted my life at the time. I was heading into my last year at school & I already had an unconditional uni place. The pressure was off & the party was on. The care free, let’s get wasted attitude of the song was my exact mood. Throw in a wee go at the Pope & this teenage ex catholic’s heart was content. 

A few years down the line & we were still in tune when Strong hit the radio waves. I was dealing with what i’ll call a turbulent relationship & trying very hard to pretend all was well. Thus, the lyrics ‘you think that I’m strong, you’re wrong’ were poignant. With this song Robbie had captured the essence of being close to the edge with his signature humour. Images of him dancing like his dad & jokes about Oprah, take the barb from the topic. Robbie always knows how to take a fairly depressing premise & make an anthem you can’t stop singing.

Now a leap to a happier place. Go gentle was written for his daughter. It’s loaded with familiar protective father material, but with some truly lovely insights thrown in. When I listen to this song I understand what he’s feeling. Go gentle through your life is good advice for any little one. It’s simple, but at the heart of what we want for our kids. Namely, to be happy & take as few bumps as possible. The lyrics are sweet & loving, but also articulate something that I have been feeling. My niece is 6yrs old, she is confident in her abilities & appearance. I never want her to lose that assurance. For me the words,

‘Baby, be a giant,

Let the world be small’.

sum up what I want to say to her. When the time is write I definitely will & then I can share some ‘old’ music with her too.

Sexed up is a song I have quite possibly misinterpreted. When I originally heard it it brought to mind the feeling of knowing your relationship is over, but not being able to fully detach. In particular, when you’re pretty much sick of the sight of each other, but keep fucking anyway. I am assured by friend that it doesn’t mean anything like that, but there you go. The point is I love this song. It’s one of the tunes I sing in a loud voice when I need to vent my frustrations. I think he has perfectly captured that feeling of needing a break up intervention. The soaring melody combined with the caustic lyrics make it a perfect turn it up & pour the wine song.

I can’t talk about Robbie without declaring my love for Rock DJ. This song does to me what he is singing about. The minute I hear the intro I want to dance. This is ultimate cocky Robbie & that’s I like him best. Never before or since I have been attracted to a skinless man ripping his flesh off. I think that says it all. 

Penis Envy…

Continuing with my plan to share some writing from archives I give you this. Something tongue in cheek & a little bit dirty that I wrote many years ago. Have a happy weekend. 
This is perhaps a little crude, but I refuse to believe I am the only person to ever feel this way. Others must have the same longing.
There comes a point in a break up when you know you are going to be ok. You suddenly realise, I can get over this amazing man. It will take time, but I know I’ll get there.
I’m just not sure that I can get over his dick. It’s wonderful; really, truly gorgeous. It is everything I want from a dick.
Big.
Oh, I know, size isn’t supposed to be important, but I like a big dick. Not insanely big, just big enough to cause a little gasp when you first see it.
Perfectly proportioned.
Smooth.
Inviting.
Fuck it, just nice. You get the picture.
I miss it. Of course I miss him, the man attached is more important, but I believe I can move on.
He might not have been the right man, but he certainly has the right penis. I may never meet another one like it. It did all the right things. We’re always being advised to invest in quality. Be it materials, ingredients or equipment. Surely this advice stands for cock. Let’s face it, sex was unlikely to go wrong with that in his pants.
I am sad that I probably won’t ever see it’s full glory again. I feel I should be allowed one last goodbye. Or perhaps, visitation.
Can you get penis access?
Dick alimony?
I realise this may seem shallow, but it brought joy to my life. That cock made me feel great. It hardly seems fair that I should be heart broken and deprived of my favourite pleasure source. I’m really quite upset about this. Some other woman might end up with my dick.
I wonder if I should raise my concerns with him (the man, I don’t talk to the penis) or just hire a lawyer? I could set a precedent.