09/07/2014

There is an awful lot I feel like writing about today. I probably should have made several posts but the days have all rolled together and I’m in one of those very unproductive moods where I don’t feel like leaving the house. So I figured I would at least write.
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Find the words to make it right again.

I’ve typed and deleted three paragraphs. And it’s not working. It’s complicated:

  • Friend that is a boy.
  • Five years.
  • Two incidents.
  • No sex.
  • Feelings. Not returned.
  • “I’m not going to wait around for you.”
  • I believed the above.
  • Selfishly held onto friend even though I thought things may have got complicated.
  • Five years of friendship.
  • One new person in my life.
  • Now a very complicated friendship.
  • I’ve known for years that this was only ever going to go one way.
  • I’ve known for years that I was always going to look the bad one.
  • I just didn’t realise how bad it would feel when it finally happened.

 

This song seems really relevant at the moment. But from which perspective? His or mine?

 

 

 

 

 

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Sunday’s Secret

Once again, here is my post from Post Secret which I could have sent in.

photoSome days I don’t even know what these risks would be. Some days I definitely do, but I will never be brave enough to take them. Not even brave enough to send them in on a postcard.

 

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What kind of a Father?

Ideally, I would have put this into a poem, but it seems I exhausted myself with Can My Mind Exceed a Time, so I’m going to have to write this out.

I know you never asked for this. Two planned, one a surprise. You wanted the married life, and I like to think you wanted the children, but I don’t think you wanted the responsibility that came with it. From the minute the first of us arrived, you were jealous. I think part of you cared, screeching down the road in an ambulance, having a doctor tell you that you had to choose between your wife or your unborn child. I think you were scared, when he arrived too early, too small, whole body fitting into the palm of your hand. I think you were proud, when finally, at three months old you were allowed to bring him home. But then what? I will tell you what:

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All I Want

So no version will beat the Kodaline’s original All I Want, however this version comes close and is hauntingly beautiful. Loren Ancheta’s dedication is to her grandmother, and this is why this version stands out to me.

This is one of my favourite songs, but from July 8th 2013 there was a period in my life where I just could not listen to it because it reminded me of her. For me, the song was always about her, even when she was here. I knew it would be about her when she left. I didn’t know how soon that would be from finding this song, but when the time came I was right. And I couldn’t listen to it.

And then I went to see Kodaline. And for the first time in a while, not only did I hear the song, but I heard it live in a small venue and the crowd was completely silent. And it was heart breaking. So heart breaking that I somehow went past the point of needing to cry. It was so beautiful and raw and intimate.

If you loved me, why’d you leave me?

Take my body, take my body.

All I want is, and all I need is

to find somebody,

to find somebody,

like you.

Find Loren Ancheta’s channel here: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCpf7jxIC17g2uxXmKlqQkhQ

 

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Mental Health -On The Inside*

One of the frustrating things about dealing with mental illness and anxiety problems is that I believe, for everybody, they are always a little different. We can’t ever really know what is happening in someone’s head, can we? Unless they explicitly tell us what they are thinking, and let us be honest, that rarely ever happens. A good friend of mine passed on the details of a blog that discusses mental health, and this was just one more added to the list that have been passed onto me over the past two, three, even four years. I think that people spotted my mental health problems long before I did. I think, to a certain extent, I still don’t acknowledge them. I put my long-term paranoia down to feeling anxious, or nervous, or my daily social anxiety. Just reading through some of the blogs, however, made me realise that even those who are way more honest than me still don’t share exactly what is going on in their head.

It’s hard to know the extent to which I am mentally ill. Am I a little sad with life, or am I depressed. Do people think they are being clever when actually I can see right through them, or do I have paranoia? Is it normal to be physically incapable of moving towards a room where all your friends and acquaintances are, or are you correct and they would actually rather you weren’t there? These are debates I have in my head every single day. Mental health needs to be talked about otherwise these debates inside our heads will just stay exactly as that, in our heads. Those who do not understand will continue to not understand, while those who do understand will push their diagnoses whether you feel it is correct or not.

*This post has not achieved a single thing. I don’t really know what the point of it was.

 

 

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Confession

I was introduced to Post Secret over a year ago now, and I be sure to check it every week. That even meant putting euros into the hotel computer two weeks in a row during my holiday to Menorca last August. Every week, I feel like there is always one secret that I could have sent in, and, as I don’t have the guts to actually send one in, I have started saving them. Last week the sender was frightened of eternity, this year it is related to the sender’s MA degree. 

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I feel like this almost everyday these days. I don’t feel smart enough to be doing what I’m doing. I don’t feel like I quite belong with that group of people. I don’t think there is an easy way to address the issue, either, because if you don’t feel smart enough, then no matter what your grades are, they aren’t going to change your mind. All they will do is reaffirm you. If I get a merit, I feel like it should have been a distinction. If I get a distinction, I feel like it should have been a better distinction. Add to this fact that I’m dyslexic, and some people mention that every once in a while, then I certainly do not feel smart enough to be doing an MA. And some days I question if I’ll even finish it. 

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