Then the smoothie fell

Right, once I’ve blogged I’m sucking it up and throwing myself into my job to take my mind off my ever impending doom that is my inability to cope any longer with emotion.

The year before I left for Hamilton is a bit of a strange one. I can’t really talk about it, not because there are any particular secrets, but because I actually can’t remember most of it. And no, I was not drinking. I’ve never been able to figure out why I can’t remember things that happened that year. I have little snapshots of particular moments, mainly the really hurtful ones, but no normal memories. I’ve heard of people doing that when they suffer a type of trauma, but that’s what confused me even more about it… I didn’t go through trauma?

But people perceive trauma differently.

There was a lot of anger and a lot of yelling. A lot of hate, and certainly not a lot of understanding that year. Between several different people. I shut down when I can’t explain things. I shut down when I can’t cope with an emotion or lack the understanding to deal with it. So, I shut down.

As I do each week, I caught up with an old ‘friend’ from the past. So far, it’s been really good for me to work through things. But, there was always the risk it would drag up the wrong things and the hurt would start all over again.

Then the pub played the stupid song. The song we listened to over and over and over again. I normally have no issue with it, I listen to it every now and then, it’s a good song. But then I said something wrong. And he wasn’t happy. Then we started talking about grandparents. The song, the glimpse of the past disapproval when I opened my mouth and should have thought it through, the grandparents. I just could not keep it together any longer.

You know in the movies when the room starts spinning and their heart races and they suddenly run out because they just can’t handle it all and their chest is closing up and their breath is getting shorter? Yep… that was exactly it… except I burst into tears instead of running out. I think, looking back, running out would have been a much more preferred option.

I was emotional, I tried to say sorry for saying something I shouldn’t have. And then it just fell apart. The anger, the hate, everything I thought we’d got past was right there.

So, then my heart decided to throw this huge hissy fit. I’m tired due to lack of sleep. And I’ve lost all my beta blockers to tell me heart to calm the hell down.

I also managed to jam my little figure in the draw this morning… then spilt smoothie down my entire front, floor, desk, paperwork, and chair at work.

I think… and I don’t often actually do this… I’m giving up on today. We’re just not getting along.

I’m going to take a few deep breaths, change my clothes, do an interview or four, and have a cup of tea. Then I’m going to hide from the world until I am ready to cope again.



All this adult stuffs

I’m done being an adult.

Can I quit now? No one tells you when you’re a teenager and wanting your freedom so desperately, that with freedom comes bills, lots of bills, and with bills, comes no freedom at all. Ok, they did tell me that. I just chose at that point to stomp my feet and walk off, probably slam a door while I was at it too.

Right about now, I would quite happily go back to no drinking and a curfew, along with the free rent, free food, free internet, free grazing for me horse, free everything for my horse, free free free – freedom.

Of course one only begins to realise that once they reach a point of ‘whhhhhy does my bank account not have more money in it!’ By that stage it’s all over, and you might as well grab that bottle of wine and enjoy your freedom… which due to having a full time job to cover all those bills, involves maybe one glass (or one bottle…or if it’s really that bad and the wine is free possibly two), a warm blanket, and a whole series of a dramatic TV show. 

I’m getting far too dramatic. 

I still have money, I’m sober 97.8% of the time, and I have a few friends who still like me… the rest, well who knows. So I’m going to say for the first year of working and two horses, I’m not doing horrendously. 

I still have taken to not looking at my bank account, and silently wishing more money would just magic its way in there.

I’m looking at it in a more positive light: I have horses, these are investments, they will make me money. Then I burst into this hysterical fit of laughter and wish my parents had said “no you can’t have a pony”. 

Just kidding… kinda.

So on that note, while I drink a hot lemon, ginger, and manuka honey tea (I had a voucher for the supermarket… so I went wild and brought manuka instead of normal honey, woop woop!) and feel sorry for myself because it’s raining… and has been all day… and is going to keep raining all week, which means no riding, lots of mud, and it’s just miserable. 

Yes, I am also well aware that 4 months ago I was crying because it wouldn’t rain.

I need to change my perspective on life.

But this ‘being positive’ thing can wait until my throat stops feeling like I’m swallowing glass, and I manage to be self controlled enough to get more than 7 and 1/2 hours sleep each night.

For now, back to the TV programmes!



Coping. Are you?

I broke down today. Actually broke down. After a good night, or well a good week, of confidence building, pride igniting and ego boosting, my emotions simply gave up. I’m not sure why, but I don’t deal well with stress. I don’t deal well with people holding me to expectations. I struggle. I don’t know who doesn’t.

I must say I feel sorry for my instructors and the people where my horse lives. Most people don’t see me break down. But they always do for some reason. Maybe its because around my horse I feel like I can actually fall apart. Everyone has a safe place- thats mine. But I just wound up in tears over the most pathetic thing.

So, seeing as no one is home I decided tonight was my de-stress night. Time to myself. I don’t actually know when the last time was I had alone time. Silence. Ticking clock. Blinking lights. And me. It’s really nice. Unfortunately I had to ditch my boyfriend for the night in order for this alone time but I feel like I needed it. There wasn’t a choice.

Sometimes I think its not so much about how much you have on, or even your time management. It’s about making sure there are times you put you first. Times you get to be selfish. Time when you do exactly what it is you want to be doing.

That is coping.