#BlogLife861 - Is is better to talk?

Doesn't it just mean, the other person knows all your vulnerabilities?

I'm currently finding it harder and harder to get out of bed these days.

Now that the sun is out, the problem neighbour kids are swarming around like parasites.

If they're not smoking outside, stinking up the neighbourhood, they are kicking the ball against my wall and windows and one day it's going to smash.

Thud, thud, thud, is all I hear, the sound reverberating two whole rooms away.

Then UC wants to know my current rent, which sounds simple but it isn't.

I've told them the correct amount and it's still written falsely. The landlord said, it was due to increase this month, but instead will change in October.

If I tell them what I actually pay and that's not including the arrears, I have to include, when it changed and officially that's last April, what if they want proof?

I don't have that! There is so much confusing double talk, it makes my head spin.

I guess the most pressing thing is not hearing back from the DWP.

Maybe she does want to throw me in jail, find something concrete and say Aha, I was waiting for this, I stalled and stalled and here it is.

I can take your life from you, happily, since last October, her hands have been around my neck, squeezing, choking the life out of me.

It's like being back at home, trapped, slowly suffocating, walking around in my own safe bubble world, wishing things were different.

That I could breathe, that there was hope, that I would survive. There wasn't any peace then and there isn't any now.

This lil doom and gloom rain cloud is still stalking me. Am I ever going to be free?

I needed to get that off my chest, it helped somewhat but ultimately, I'm continuously stressed waiting for the next disaster to crop up.

I don't feel like my life has ever been my own. At the family home, I learn't that it was better not to express myself or my needs..

As it resulted in insults, humiliation, intimidation and the reinforced belief, I had no brains or personality.

Here, now, living alone, I can talk, I still find I don't want too, most of the time.

Maybe it's interesting for the other party to know I'm struggling but I find that doesn't help me at all.

Really and truly, talking to myself or you dear readers, is the only thing that takes away these crushing burdens.

I find I am going off food again. I try to buy things that seem appealing but when I go to prepare a meal, it doesn't strengthen my appetite, it puts me off.

I'm not starving myself, I nibble here and there but I do end up wasting food.

You know what I would love to utter actually, the only thing, right now that I can?

I'm a sick person. I'm not saying that for attention or sympathy, it's just a fact.

I don't want to look on the bright side of things. I have limited energy and I don't want to feel guilty about lollygagging.

Sometimes the pains are so intense, I can't stand it.

Why am I expected to be strong or cope easily? Why can't I fall apart and be depressed?

Sometimes I want to lie in bed and do nothing, just pretend I can sleep easily and switch off.

Why do I feel this guilt about relaxing? Gaming or watching movies/tv shows?

Why do I think I should be writing 24-7? The whole reason I stopped posting 7 days a week, was to give myself a break.

Why is that a bad thing? To look after myself? 

Why can't I maintain a positive attitude? Why can't I believe in myself and stay confident?

....... Because SS, you're a human being, not a robot, you feel things, like we all do.

You're trying to be better. That's all you can do.

Lastly why do I feel like I should be mingling, dating and making friends, when all I want to do is withdraw from everyone?

It's wrong to be alone, right? Or is it? When it's just me, I don't have to entertain anyone or pretend I'm happy.

I can just be myself and let down my guard, take off my mask and be transparent.

There is no-one on this earth I can do that with.

#BlogLife782 - I'm sick of stressing

I was looking for something to watch to put my mind at ease and I discovered that DI Ray season 2 was finally out.

I'm completely hooked and already trying to unravel the mystery and work out who the baddies are..

I'm resigned to whatever is going to happen next, I don't have a good feeling at all.

More and more things seem to pile on and yep I am a pessimist but then my life isn't exactly easy either, hence this whiny blog.

Oh I tried the Balconi hazelnut cake rolls, quite nice and that reviewer is right, it is almost like a cake version of Ferreros.

I don't know if I would purchase it again, I prefer other cake styles.

In the Match Masters game, I've found a good active team, I was going to quit but gaming relaxes me so I've stayed.

I would say the only negative thing about them is that they are booster snobs, only the highest and best will do, when if you're desperate or skilled, you can make any one work for you, well.

I don't understand that mentality of, asking for boosters and then rejecting them because they are not good enough..

If that was me, I would take take take.

There's no real updates and that's why I'm struggling to write because all I do is constantly worry about not being able to survive and take care of myself.

I go to sleep panicking, I wake in the middle of the night.. It's the first thing I think about in the morning, there is no getting away from it.

I've done what I could but even that doesn't feel enough and they love making the claims extra difficult.

When am I going to catch a break? When is there going to be some peace of mind?

It's getting increasingly harder to stay upbeat and not crumble into a pile of tears.

My hormones are all over the place and I guess at the moment, I feel what is the point of carrying on?

What is the point of anything, when I feel I have no future?

#BlogLife668 - Hold the butter

My quest to try new things is hit and miss, I just sampled the Fry vegan kievs and loathed them.

I thought garlic and fake chicken, fun combination but all I tasted was butter.........Absolutely revolting.

It's like eating a whole stick of butter on it's own. Ickity. I had to bin them, I can't do it, give it another shot or coat them with a dip, that butter taste is just too much.

I told Mama to relax and stick to her routine and I realised that once again, I was giving the deranged twit power over me so I'm going to proceed as normal.

I went into the kitchen about 6/7 times intending to come out with a new tissue box and forgot each time.

I got drinks, fruit, ice poles, rice, more drinks and the last time, I thought hey, just pick up the tissues first and then I made the mistake of going into the fridge for more drinks and strawberries and promptly left the tissues inside....... Sigh lol.

I guess I still feel on the edge and going to the Police is not an option because he hasn't done anything and they are all about evidence, first get physically attacked, and then we will step in as it is tied in a nice neat bow.

As I said I've been ill and tormented for a long time and have no more fight in me.

My family has always been toxic and a hazard to my physical and mental wellbeing.

There just doesn't seem to be an escape from it but I realised his goal has always been to torture us, make us stressed and remove any joy from our lives.

And he is not even in the same country anymore but when someone is that evil and that determined to destroy you.

Yea it's definitely........... A lot to handle, alone.

Oh I tried the Tubzee mango kulfi lollies, which are a bit sweeter than the pistachio but not as nice.

I'm not really keen on them, if possible will pass them on to Mama.

The last flavour to sample is the clotted cream, which sounds so delicious also but what if I hate it?

I wish they had sprinkled nuts in the other flavours too.

You know this sounds really bad but I'm going to say it anyway.

I'm almost at the point where I feel like cutting Mama out of my life too, she just keeps forgiving him and bringing back his evil reign over us.

I could literally say to her, from now on don't mention each of the siblings names to me anymore but she still would.

I'm going to sink into depression and I don't know if I can find my way out of it, this time.

I don't know if I want too. I want some stillness, quietness, a break from the constant soap opera dramas.

I think to be honest, I'm sick of making her feel better, when she should have got rid of him a long time ago.

It's a constant feeling of helplessness and his new way to manipulate her, will be when the grandchild comes along and then it will be back to abuse and strangleholds and she'll bring me in to it.

Or want me to say it's okay or comfort her and I am sick to death of it!

I literally feel once again, at my lowest ever point. I really don't know what to do, except shut myself off and welcome the inevitable.

You might as well all unfollow me now because until this thing passes, there aren't going to be any jolly perky posts...

Not that there were many to begin with, in the first place.

I keep having these dreams where I am being murdered and I actually welcome it.

I say please carry on, thank you for putting me out of my misery and be sure to hit all the vital organs.

That's where my head is at right now. I was honestly trying to hang on and be strong.....

But it's impossible, maybe some fiction would help.....

Blending into obscurity (fiction)

I fidgeted uncomfortably shifting my weight from side to side to find one decent adequate position in the hospital waiting room as I waited for my cab to pull up so I could escape the hell of my painful captivity. 

My frailty was no longer carefully masked away it was out on the surface for the world to see. The layers of my strength had peeled away. 

This time the tears didn't merely trickle down my face they poured forth like an uncontrollable wave. I pushed myself up with difficulty, my legs shaking with the crutches. 

I leaned against the wall and pretended I was invisible like so many times before. If noone can see me, noone can hurt me and they could not detect my vulnerabilities to exploit as so often they had done before. Time and time again.

The porter wheeled me out to the cab my face still dewy from my sobbing. Every motion was agony and the ride jostled and bumped me as the driver sped faster and faster as though I was an insignificant bundle. 

Unlike it was expected I didn't head home where it was planned that I recuperate. I escaped. I struggled to step out of the taxi with every part of me shaking in protest that I wasn't back in a bed resting. 

I headed into the woods with the leaves and twigs crunching under my footsteps. Minutes passed by and my breathing got heavier. 

I looked around and there was a deafening silence here. I nodded to myself acknowledging this spot, dropped to my knees and screamed as loud and hard as I could over and over, letting all my fear, pain, anger, sorrow and frustrations out.

I became hoarse and couldn't catch my breath. My throat burned with the force of my cries. I was so scared of everything, scared of going home, scared of being hurt again, scared of snapping but the one thing I was never afraid of was being alone.

I am never going to be like you. I am not super smart. I am not ruled by material possessions. I don't need to be liked. I don't need to have a million friends. 

I don't need drugs, alcohol or superiority to be accepted. I don't need to intimidate to have people like me. 

I don't need to make someone feel constantly worthless so much so that they spend their lives wondering, what did I ever do to deserve all your hatred?

Isn't it enough that I despised myself? I couldn't be confident. I didn't have it in me. I didn't deserve the nightmare you put me through. 

I was too afraid to defend myself and then I hate to admit it but it all broke me. I closed my eyes and exhaustion took over my body. 

I curled up into a ball and slept. A barrage of images flooded my brain bringing it all back until I began screaming again and woke myself up. I wept until there was no air left in my body.

If I'm not me, who am I? (fiction)

I let out a long sigh looked deep into the mirror and just felt like a failure. My cute slim face had been replaced with a rounder version. 

My once thick free flowing hair had become thin and lifeless. My eyes looked bleakly at me as if to say....What happened to you? 

Where has your smile gone? the laughter? The effortless ability to make others forget their troubles and just engage in the merriment of carefree teasing?

I had no answers. I turned away as if to hide from the larger than life image staring back at me. My thighs although never really slim had become thicker. 

My stomach was the thing that bothered me the most. It stuck out so much that every item of clothing looked unflattering. My bum never bothered me, narrow or wider it just gave me shape. 

My wobbly arms I just always covered up in long sleeves even on the warmest of days.

I needed to get out of here to feel the sharp winter breezes wake me up so I could appreciate all the good things in my life. 

I wanted to have my freshly washed hair loose so I quickly tied a white bandana to push the stragglers out of my face. 

Then I changed into a long colourful sunset dress with wide splashes of colour spread loftily all around it, deep reds, oranges, yellows and the faintest black outline. 

Lastly I put my fully fleeced feet into my boots and grabbed my bag. It had just turned 9pm and although late it was still bright enough to see where I was going. 

I locked up and then walked the 10 minutes needed to get on the private beach I owned. It was so quiet with noone around but instead of being afraid I felt liberated and almost giddey. 

I loved going for long leisurely walks at my own contented slow pace. No racing off to do something or help someone.

Suddenly this sense of recklessness spread over me and I kicked off the boots, tore off my socks, dropped my bag and tore off running as fast as I could. 

The direction didn't matter to me I just need to clear my head of all the cluttered thoughts. 

Why did I have to cope with chronic pain when I could see people around me without any morals doing careless acts and not being punished for it?

I'm not perfect but I do have a conscience. I try to be a good person and make the tough but right decisions but there are others that don't think about how they act and yet it all turns out swimmingly for them. 

I could easily medicate with drugs or alcohol but once again I would just be punishing myself.

I felt the wind blowing through me and caressing my hair, the strands kissed my shoulders and then danced away. My breathing became ragged but I just could not stop running. 

The sand on my feet felt soft enveloping me deeper as I ran even faster hoping to escape all the nagging thoughts lingering behind.

Finally breathless my legs buckled and I fell on my knees exhausted. What would it feel like to be normal? To go through an entire day without any pain or soreness? 

To be able to sit, lay, walk or stand without wanting to cry because it hurts so much? My hands begin clutching the sand and letting it trickle out. Strands of time so fleeting.

I don't know how much time had passed until my breathing returned to normal. I looked around as the darkness was closing in all around me. 

I wrapped my arms around myself seeking comfort but not wanting to ask for it. I pushed myself up hearing the familiar crack of bones straining. 

I walked towards the clear blue/green water teasing me with its close proximity. I stood at the edge letting the water wet the hem of my dress. 

Sound erupted from my lips before I knew what it was. Bitter laughter escaped dragging my tears that spilled out over my cheeks.

I can't have the peace I crave. I can't have a single day without experiencing unhappiness. I flicked my foot into a wave and splashed and then did the same with the other. 

This time the sea got aggressive and returned rising above my ankles. I looked up as raindrops fell from the sky in clumps. Pushing the hair off my face. 

I pulled off my bandana and let the puddles claim it. Stretching my arms out, I twirled around and around. I didn't even feel the cold seeping into my pores. I was too far gone.

I realised that the last of my sanity and strength had just ebbed away. I had reached my final breaking point. I stopped twirling and looked back at my house and my life. 

All the pain, sorrow and wounds inflicted on me were back there. Whipping around back to the sea I heard it beckoning me. 

Slowly I walked forward as each step made it difficult to navigate. My dress clung to me, moulding itself to my curves. I paused barely long enough to look up at the sky. My last thoughts were never uttered.