One of those moments

It’s 5.09pm and I got home from work over half an hour ago. I spent most of the time since I drove in the driveway sitting in my car and lying on my bed with my cat. That might not seem like anything particularly special, but for those who know Charlie the cat it’s a pretty big deal.

Charlie doesn’t sleep on beds. Ever. And he freaks out when I put him on them. But today, a day where I don’t particularly want to face the world, Charlie cat let me not only put him on the bed, but lie down and have a nap beside him. He’s currently still curled up in a bun like formation while I type away at my desk.

Some days are hard. Your guess is as good as mine as to why. But this week my new life has begun to really sink in. The kind of sink where you slowly slip into a lukewarm pool and can’t quite tell if you’re 100 per cent happy about it, but you’re still glad to be there.

I’ve gone from a very body confident, reliable decision maker to a constantly uncertain, emotionally reserved and body conscious individual. I’m not sure how I got from there to here. There’s plenty of good changes too. I think. I can’t list them right now, but they are there. I know how to stand my ground and to be confident in what I do for work. That’s something.

This might sound weird, but a year ago I was a ‘go to person’ one of those people you have in your life for when it gets tough. The person you turn to to talk about anything. The person you need at the end of a rough day…someone who just sort of fixes things.

Somewhere along the road I became allergic to drama, to emotions, to anything that even remotely resembles someone needing me.

And I have no idea why.

At some point I just kind of stopped giving a shit.

And people stopped needing, they stopped talking, and they too stopped caring.

I think when big changes occur in someones life and when they go through challenging times, it’s easy to forget healing takes a long time. A really, really long time.

And people who weren’t there through it don’t realise how patient they need to be. But the people who were there through it often aren’t there any longer.

Someone can look fine but in reality they’re still struggling, they’re still broken, and they’re still healing.

I think the number one relationship killer ,whether it be friendship or romantic, is complacency and lack of respect.

I don’t mean respect in the term you might be picturing it in. I mean it in the way of listening to ideas and advice, listening to that persons way of viewing the world…and caring about it. By complacency I mean people stop caring about the answer to ‘how was your day’ they stop wanting that person to be happy, they stop wanting that person to smile. People just start to go about their own lives forgetting to ask and care: “how are you really doing?”

It’s amazing how easily and how quickly it happens.

And I’m terrified of it.

I’m also exhausted.

Maybe because for me part of my healing process means it takes a lot of energy to be open, to love, to care, to let people in. I don’t know if that ever gets easier, but I keep on trying hoping it eventually will.

This week I’ve started to appreciate my city and the morning drive to work. I’ve tried hard to walk around town more at lunch time, to come up with new places to take my horse; to genuinely live here.

But man, it is not easy. I still miss Hamilton. I miss the people. But I am starting to live here and in all honesty, I’ve made some incredible friends here so far I’d be sad to leave if I ever moved back. This is home. And it’s starting to feel like that.

But it doesn’t mean it’s not hard. I think after any period, long or short, of hardship it takes years to adjust again. This is probably the most time I’ve spent alone or even wanted to spend alone in nearly a year.

I’ve spent a year hiding.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve slowly addressed things as I felt I was capable. I’ve tried my best to counsel and work my way through the hurt bits and the crappy bits and ‘fix’ myself. But up until this point I’ve needed people. I’ve needed to see and be around people to remind myself it’s ok.

And now, I think I’m slowly learning how to be ok alone again and how to cope with myself.

I have a thyroid scan in a weeks time. I’m both nervous and excited. I want to know where it’s at. Has the nodule grown? Will I have to have a life changing operation? Will I not? I play it down but it plays on my mind almost constantly. And that’s just the reality of it.

I think somedays, I just want to feel unconditionally loved, and I want to unconditionally love myself too. I want that love for myself. I want to be in that space again where I don’t question if I’m a hard person to love, where I don’t feel like I’m still a bit broken, where I just feel like a whole human. A few weeks back I wrote a post about how I finally felt like I was no longer recovering. And I feel like that most of the time now.

But with any recovery there are set backs.

And this is just one of those moments.

This blog got a lot more real than I was anticipating. I think Sam ought to bring my red wine to me and I will lie on my bed with Charlie cat and watch crappy soaps.

Till next time x

 

Advertisements

A spidery tale

Life has become weird again. It began when I encountered a big black spider about a week ago. Granted it was on a horse cover that had been lying around for several days, exposed to the spider population. I did not scream. I simply continued on, removed said spider and was very proud of myself. A couple of days later I encountered another one, I can’t quite remember where but again, withheld scream. This seemed to continue for several days. Then it just got worse. Three (smallish) brown spiders appeared at different times during the day on me. On my person. Three, all in one day. The following day a big black one appeared on my riding boot. While I was holding it my hand, as I was just about to inspect the insides for that very creature. This is a job I normally make my boyfriend do. But I was feeling brave. I shouldn’t have given my recent haunting of the spiders. I screamed this time. And threw the boot. Then killed the spider. My boyfriend was not impressed as he ran in to find I was alive, well and I had not fallen to my doom. His words were “Oh! It was only a spider.” It was NOT ONLY as SPIDER. It was big, it was black and it was about the sixth one in a week. The next day I found a really big brown one on my float, it had fangs I could see.

I mean, it was just getting ridiculous. Then tonight, alone, watching private practice, alone, a big, big, the biggest one yet, appeared on my ceiling. I fly sprayed it, and sprayed some more, and some more and the blasted things just would not die! I scooped it onto a piece of paper and flushed it down the loo. I will now wait until tomorrow before using that toilet. 

My fear of spiders is rational. It is not dreamt up and it is not simply ‘because they’re scary’. I loved spiders. Until I picked up a very big one, around the size of my small 10 year old hand, and took it to show mummy. It didn’t want to go see mummy so it bit me. And my figure got all red and puffy and sore. So, I don’t like spiders. At all. 

Now, other than my spider haunting lately which, quite frankly I am over, my cat (the one that lives with Alex) thought all through the weekend that 7am was the perfect time to wake up sleeping owners. Every single morning at 7am on the dot. So I’m tired. 

I also just found out that a position is opening up at the paper I desperately wanted to work at, at the start of the year. Of course I already have my perfect job at a different paper. But I am currently frolicking in the irony of it all. Frolicking in the most delightfully delusional way. Oh, and my horse is currently visiting a boy horse in order to make a baby horse. Though, she doesn’t want a bar of him. She likes the boy who has no balls. I sigh at the irony and stare sadly at my nearly 20 year old face in the mirror and wonder when on earth it started looking so tired. 

I’d ask why but I lack the energy.

As I prepare to celebrate my 20th year breathing and being alive I thought to myself, ‘how will I celebrate the end of this course?’ My answer: sleep for at least 24 hours straight. When did I get so boring?

Sleep time Mr cat

Dear neighborhood cat(s)

I understand that mating is essential for the continuation of you species. There are a few things I’d like you to understand, mating calls are not ok at 12am. If you want her, go get her! Whining about it will not get you anywhere. Tip: if you need to get down and dirty that’s cool, but keep it down, scratching and hissing is not attractive. Nor is it polite. And stay away from the driveway right outside my bedroom, get a backyard!

And just for pointers, the whole neighborhood just doesn’t want to know that you’re in the mood. We just don’t. More importantly wed quite like to sleep.

Regards,
Your seriously over-tired sarcastic neighbor.

Sing a little happy song in the rain

Rain! Lovely wet rain! Ah it is beautiful. It’s so damp and miserable today. The sun hasn’t even bothered to come out. It makes me feel warm inside. I’m not really sure why. I’m pretty sure I’m a little bit insane. Either way.

Today in class someone was a little bit angry about someone being a bad person. ‘I hate it when people just talk to you when they want something’ she said (well not quite like that, I don’t want to get in trouble for miss quoting.) I think said in a rather thoughtful voice…’hmm… me too… wait. I am one of those people…’

Well I am. I mean no I do not go around using every single friend I have. I have my little, rather small group of friends… I’d like to say elite but in fear you may actually meet some of my friends… I wont make that claim. But when I need something and I haven’t spoke to someone in a while and I know they could help, I don’t really have any qualms about asking them.

Perhaps I am a bad person, or perhaps I am a smart person. Clever one would say.

So in the spirit of feeling good I have two books to read, FINALLY! The first one so far is wonderful. I am getting my hair redyed today AND my cat came home!

Today, you are a good one.

Oh no, we’ve lost the cat.

My cat has gone missing. Run away, stuck, found a new home, lost… I’m not all too sure. He’s just vanished. Poof. And here I was thinking it was rabbits that were meant to disappear. Now I have never had an animal die, go missing or well, anything that normally happens to animals. Oh well of course I’m not including my escape artist rabbits I used to own. I caught them though. Every time. Not that that stopped them trying.

Either way, this is a rather new concept for me. Normally I have sold the few animals I have let go of and they all went to great loving homes. So, my question is… how am I/ what am I meant to a) feel and b) do. 

I mean we’ve called, we’ve waited, we’ve searched… I just don’t know what to do next! As for how I feel… well sad of course but that is such a generic feeling for something so complex as loosing a very snuggly happy part of your family. 

Not cool. So not cool.

My little friend the cat

I was a sunny morning. Pleasant I say. I was merrily cooking my food. Of course, in my usual ‘must smoke out the house’ kind’ve way- I burnt the butter. I opened the windows, that wasn’t enough so I opened a door. There it was. Small and loud. It kept meowing and meowing! So I gave it milk. It didn’t want milk. I let it come inside. It was so little and had big big BIG brown eyes. I pet it. It was happy. 

I continued with my breakfast. It was a good breakfast. My small friend did not leave. She joined me on the couch and played. Then she wanted more pets so we had cuddles. I was meant to leave at 10 but I couldn’t leave until she was happy. 

Eventually after exploring our house and wandering around my feet it ventured back outside. 

Goodbye my little friend. 

Be free!