I know I promised to write about some of the significant things happening in our crazy world, but my own little crazy world has gotten the better of me. I’ve been struggling with a gastro flare & non stop fainting. Both of which have left me exhausted. So, once I have contended with life’s essentials, I have very little left.
I’ve been using any leftover spoons to see my littles and take care of myself. One of the things I can do that makes me feel a tiny bit better is paint my nails. Of course I have been getting spooky with my nail art.
On Saturday I ventured out to the theatre to see my nephew’s Halloween show. The show was fantastic, I was so proud of him. I also took the opportunity to debut my new glasses. I am utterly in love with them.
Glasses – Where LightSkirt – Lindy Bop
Bear with me, more insightful content coming soon.
If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.
September is a bumper birthday month around here. My own slips in right at the end, so I am now 44yrs old. How did that happen?
Anyway, I think I’m doing ok for an old bird. On Sunday we had a big lunch with cake, presents and the whole shebang. Obviously I had to smash it with my outfit and I did! Perhaps you’re not supposed to blow your on trumpet, I do not care. I looked gooooood. You’d never guess I’m middle aged.
I’m feeling pretty strange about this whole mid 40’s thing. I don’t know how I got here so fast. I need someone to catch up the ly in my head. She still feels like her twenties were five minutes ago. Except they also feel a lifetime ago too. It’s very confusing in here. Reckoning with mortality and all the things that are behind me is tough. It’s just as well I’m such a hottie; takes the sting out of it.
If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.
Today you would turn 24. That’s older than I was when I carried you. I still don’t know how to reconcile the fact that I have lived your whole life in my head, but have never held you in my arms.
It’s hard for me to imagine mothering a grown man. Although, I certainly needed my Mum at 24. I made some unwise decisions. I hope I could help you avoid some. I also hope I’d know when to stand back and let you make your own mistakes. I have a lifetime of love and nurture stored up. There are countless things I wanted to teach you. So many moments I have played over and over in my head.
I don’t know exactly what I believe about heaven and god. I know there is something. I know you are somewhere. I can’t envisage a reality in which you haven’t been loved; haven’t felt my love. I’ll never stop yearning to express that love. I would give everything to have held you even once.
Things have been rough since I lost Bronan. I keep expecting him to wander into the room. I’m home most of the time, so we were together all the time. My daily habits and routines were centred around my boy. Eveything feels off without him.
I had Bronan cremated & he’s back home now. I also have a little bit of his fur. I haven’t completely decided, but I think I will scatter a little of him in his garden with some forget me not seeds. I will keep the rest of his ashes home with me. The people I worked with were wonderful. Very compassionate & professional. I am grateful that they made our last moments together so peaceful.
I have been seeking solace in my little ones. They are so loving and wonderful. They offer temporary distraction from my sadness. It’s summer holidays, so we’ve had time to have lots of adventures. We’ve been to the park, swimming, the cinema and more.
My adult people have also been wonderful. It’s very comforting to be around people who don’t need me to explain how I’m feeling. I want to say thank you to everyone who has been so kind here & on Instagram etc. I appreciate all of your lovely words.
Yesterday was one of those ugh days. I had a couple of medical appointments and a few errands to run. I was tired and sore, but it was a sunny day, so off I set.
My mood took the first knock when my taxi driver has a rant about how short my journey was. Granted I wasn’t going far, but I can’t get about on foot. If I want to go somewhere, I need a taxi. Next up was a rude & unhelpful woman in the chemist. She made it very clear that finding my prescription was an inconvenience. Much huffing, puffing and snarky comments ensued, which drew stares from other customers. The final nail in the coffin of my day was the hospital receptionist who would not source a chair for me, but also got angry when I sat on the floor. Sitting on the floor is hazard, but passing out because I cannot stand apparently is not.
Rubbish day, but not the end of the world, right? If these were isolated incidents I would probably just brush them off. The problem is, it happens all the time. Being a disabled person out in the world can be a challenge. Accessibility is a problem, but even requests for basic accommodations can be met with irritation. On some level, I understand that. Work can be exhausting, maybe you’re having a bad day and being asked for something extra could just tip you over. However, most of my life is exhausting. I don’t make these requests to be awkward, I need them.
The result is I get apologetic. I begin my request with ‘I’m sorry, but’ or ‘I don’t want to be pest, but’. I feel like an inconvenience for asking. I anticipate that my accessibility request may not be well received. Listen, inside I often feel like getting arsey. My natural demeanour is not push over. I just know it won’t help. I also rarely have the energy for the fight. Thus, I find myself simultaneously pissed off at being made to feel bothersome & apologising for the perceived trouble.
I don’t need any help on the guilt front. I already feel like a burden to people that matter. Is it too much to ask that strangers don’t make me feel like shit? My needs are very straightforward; a seat mainly. I dread to think how anyone with a more complex requirement fares. All I’d ask is that before you roll your eyes or have a moan consider that this a moment of inconvenience for you is a lifetime of fuckery for us. Maybe you could just zip your lips and grab a chair after all?
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As predicted last week’s level of activity resulted in this week’s inactivity. I’ve been sore and exhausted. Tedious, but expected. The thing that has really been bothering me is my foul mood.
I’m extremely pissed off. Don’t ask me why because I have no idea. No one has done anything egregious. I have experienced no great wrong. Yet, each day I wake up feeling grumpier than the last. My baseline emotion is crabby.
The slightest provocation sends my simmering frustration to bubbling over. I lose a page in a book, spill my tea, forget a detail and I’m furious. My wrath is not solely directed inwards, everyone & everything annoys me. For no reason. I know my feelings are unreasonable. Consequently, it is best for me to be where others are not. I doubt all this seclusion is helpful. Turning all this negativity on myself is unlikely to produce much joy.
I’m at a loss for a solution. I’m accustomed to feeling sad or scared, but this aimless anger is uniquely discomforting. I hope it will pass. Perhaps when I’m less fatigued my mood will lift. Maybe the state of the world is getting to me. Or just life itself. Whatever the cause, I do not love it.
If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.
I’ve never feared storms. On the contrary, I mostly find them comforting. Thunder, gales, torrential downpour all increase my sense of safety as long as I experience their strength from behind four walls. Nothing feels quite as cosy as listening to wild weather batter around one’s secure domicile. The sounds are soothing. The gratitude of having a comfortable place to take shelter brings a warm contentment. Similarly, I enjoy rough seas. I’ve always preferred a desolate winter beach to one that is sundrenched. I find a listing vessel thrilling. I hope for a crossing choppy enough to produce that I don’t know where my foot will land when I take a step sensation. Crashing waves, howling winds, angry skies; tick, tick, tick.
There is only one niggle. If Mother Nature is unsettled in conjunction with my mind things can get rocky. Only a very particular mood presents a problem. Clear cut emotions pose no threat. If I’m sad the rain feels appropriate. Angry and my dirt is matched.However, if a storm hits when my mind is in conflict with itself, batten down the hatches. Sometimes what I want to feel clashes up against what I actually do feel. Other times I can’t decipher exactly what I think or feel. Then there are the overlapping, opposing emotions running around up there. All of which are heightened by a natural uproar. Somehow nature’s dramatics heighten my confusion. I can’t straighten out my insides & the untamed outdoors gives the mess a false significance. Querulous suppositions that might otherwise pass are given weight. Being aware of this does nothing to lessen the frustration. One can’t logic their way out of a metaphorical brick in the stomach.
Thus tonight I am in flux. Craziness swirls beyond my bedroom window & behind my eyes. I can’t unpick the tangle. Perhaps I’ll know what I feel tomorrow
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We once again find ourselves in this strange liminal time between one big day & the next. A time I spend mostly in my jammies eating whatever does not require cooking. All the while feeling somewhat discombobulated. Since I am struggling to keep track of the days or my own thoughts, I’m going to leap into a little flight of fancy.
For no apparent reason I am finishing the year with an ode to Ian Hislop. I love the man. He does occasionally rankle me with his SNP mockery, but I simply can’t help adoring him anyway.
His editorship at Private Eye makes the magazine one of life’s essentials. A fortnightly dose of punctured hypocrisy is needed more than ever. Whilst Have I got Got News for You brings weekly shot of joy.
I am drawn to his wit. I find his brand of comical judgement irresistible. A man who knows his classics & can still laugh at himself bowls me over. As does a sense of genuine decency. Mr Hislop possesses all of the above.
His cute face turning stern as he crushes a corrupt politician sets my heart a flutter. My attraction only grows as he grows older and more crumply. In 30 years of fandom I have yet to discover any truly unpleasant views. He is a shining of example of the rare ‘nice man’.
His enduring marriage both confirms my belief in his eligibility and damns my hopes of ever catching his twinkly eye. I am a sucker for a man who can maintain a happy long term relationship. It is certainly not conducive to capturing objects of my affection since their interest in me would immediately destroy the family man qualities that attracted me. Alas, I cannot help but admire a loyal husband.
Embarrassing a Tory Mp on national television will always win you my affection. So too will being a cat person evidenced by the appearance of Colin during lockdown. Hankering for men who embrace their oddities has always been my thing. Thus I cannot help be enamoured with Ian’s proud ownership of interests that others seek to mock.
Though he will never be mine, I shall forever yearn for the esteemed satirist. A slightly unusual intellectual with basic human goodness lights my fire. You can keep your hunks & rocks stars. I want the little guy with integrity and an uncanny ability to give powerful people a tongue lashing.
If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.
The close of 2023 is fast approaching. Like many people, year end has me in a reflective mood. I’ve read a couple of year in reviews, both personal & global. I even had a look at my own from last year. All of which left me less than cheery.
I realised it has been a year of horror for the world. A year of underwhelming achievement for me. Neither elevates my mood. Given just how brutal & cruel events have been my own struggles pale. I still can’t quite shake the societal pressure to produce.
My health has been a shit show this year. That has greatly impacted my professional output. It has in fact resulted in subpar scores across the board. My house is a mess, my social life is decimated & my very ability to stay upright has been comprised. I don’t feel like a ‘productive member of society’. I’ve had to lean on friends & family more than I like and my ‘23 goals mostly remain unattained. I haven’t been able to attend protests or pull my weight on issues that desperately matter. There hasn’t been much to feel proud of.
I’m sure I am not alone in this feeling. It’s a tough time for many people. Maybe it is ok if we’re just getting by. Worth is not measured in such narrow parameters. Not giving up has value. Engaging and caring about the world matters. It can be difficult to really believe that when bombarded by hustle culture.
I get it. Intellectually I know that human merit isn’t about hours worked or pounds made. There is though, a part of me that feels inadequate when I can’t work. I feel ashamed of the overflowing washing basket and unwashed dishes. These feelings aren’t doing me or anyone else any good. I didn’t choose to be chronically ill and I am trying my best.
All of this to say, if you’re toting up your year and feel the total wanting; think again. You got up every day and did what you could. You’ve made a difference in lots of ways that you might not even realise. Small kindnesses, commiserations & making friends laugh. Perhaps even a smile you gave to a stranger in the street. People love you. You are appreciated. You made it through whatever struggles weighed you down. I did too. Maybe that is enough.
If you enjoy my content you can support me here or on Patreon.
Regular readers might have noticed the downturn in my long form content. There’s a very simple reason for that, chronic illness.
This year has been one thing after another. The last few months in particular have been gruelling. The problem with having chronic conditions is you often find yourself fire fighting. There are so many symptoms, it is impossible to properly deal with everything. You end up addressing the most problematic at any one time. Plus of course it can be hard to get Drs to really investigate many issues. Often they’ll just chalk up to an already diagnosed illness. Sometimes they’ll try to mitigate that symptom & others you are basically told you’ll have to live with it. I always have questions that aren’t answered. Unfortunately I run out of steam to pursue them. When you are always tired & in pain you must pick your battles.
Of course being fat complicates matters. The first response more is usually something about losing weight or questioning my diet. When I fight against that there will be what I call ‘subterfuge tests’. I’ve had more fasting bloods & cholesterol tests than anyone ever needs. After years of Drs refusing to believe anything I tell them, I find it is easier to just go for the bloods & prove myself right.
The last few months have been relentlessly hard. Pain has been consistently more severe. Digestive tract refuses to behave. I’m fainting daily. I’ve had the worst bout of insomnia of recent years, but even when my body eventually gives into the exhaustion; I awake feeling just as tired. Brain fog has punctured my old articulacy. I struggle for words in everyday conversation. I have lists & notes for every little thing. If it isn’t written down, it will never happen. My skin itches, my head hurts, alarming bunches of hair are falling out, I’m breathless, nauseous & anxious. ALL THE TIME.
I have suspected that something was going for a while. I can’t explain except to say that my body didn’t feel like it belonged to me. These ailments have been breaching my outer limits. So, I had some blood tests that revealed elevated numbers. My Gp wanted to test again a few weeks later to rule out a random blip. They came back slightly higher. A new medical mystery was born.
The high numbers are related to my liver function. There isn’t an obvious reason for my liver to be pissed off. I hardly ever drink alcohol, I don’t eat meat or dairy, no signs of diabetes. It doesn’t make much sense. Possible culprits include my missing gallbladder & bile duct complications, covid & no doubt my weight will become a factor too. I await scans & next steps.
All this to say, I am currently operating on a wing & prayer. And I’m not even religious.
If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.
Something in the way she moves... 
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