Born broken

I’m not sure we’re all born a bit broken, or maybe we’re all born broken in different ways, but I was born a bit broken. It doesn’t hit you until you grow up. It wasn’t my parents’ fault because I had quite the childhood, all the toys, all the games, responsibility, trust, freedom, and understanding. It wasn’t them — it was me. I don’t know. It took me about eighteen years of my life to understand that I don’t feel intense emotions, at first. Bloody hell I feel them, bloody hell I feel them more than many I’ve met, but it takes time for my brain to process information like intense emotion.

 

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It took me twenty-four years to accept myself for who I am, and have been, and who I want to be. It took me two decades to understand that I have been in pain, and in survival mode when there has been little if any reason to be in it. It has taken me eighty percent of my life to accept that it is okay.

I never talked to my parents, or anyone, except someone I met who lived almost two-hundred miles away from me… about me. I never thought of it before then, and I’ll tell you a secret about me — when I was young I don’t know why, but I was sure I wouldn’t be here for long, so sure that I pushed everyone I cared about when I was younger away from me in preparation because I held onto the idea that being a ghost was the better alternative than hurting the people you care about.

I think this idea came from the first person I put my trust in who wasn’t my mother which was my auntie, and I was a pretty shy kid, and a bit weird, I suppose. I wouldn’t talk to anyone else apart from my mother for years, but when I did, and I remember being asked to draw a sheep for my auntie and to give her a kiss on the cheek goodbye. She’d chase me around the room until I refused so much that she would eventually give in.

I remember the night I finally gave in myself and saw how sad she looked when she went to leave, and I kissed her cheek. Little did I know it would be the last time I would ever see her, and that she had a sad face because it was a kiss goodbye. Suicide is a funny thing, and no one knows who struggles with thoughts like that until it’s too late, after all, when you see someone smiling all day, every day, who would know that they aren’t happy?

And you know something, for so many years after that moment, I’d occasionally understand the feeling. The feeling of ‘being trapped’, the feeling of ‘suffocating’, the feeling of being forced to ‘live a certain way’, and quite often I’d sit away from everyone else, and stop smiling. I never told my parents I felt this way. I think I remember shouting it out once, but as childish as I was acting, I don’t think they thought I was serious.

I remember getting bullied, and in return, acting up and acting out. I had anger issues for the majority of my teenage years. I was disinterested in everything that I did, and no one really noticed. Some may have had an inkling and thought I’d just grow out of it, but I don’t think I ever let anyone get close enough to me.

As I grew up, I met someone who helped me see a different way of living, and for a while, that worked, but eventually, I fell back to my neutral self, and I began to feel hate. It wasn’t the bullying that did it, nor a relatively normal childhood. It was me, and it was a hatred for myself. I remember it, looking in the mirror, slouching after playing video games for sixteen hours straight, of thirty-six hours straight, not that it mattered, but I felt disgusted, but I couldn’t stop. The reason for that was because I would have to face myself if I stopped, and for the longest of time, I couldn’t.

My friend, the one that I talked to, helped me reach out, and I met someone who I connected with and that’s when I met my daughter’s mother. I think I met her at a point where I would believe what someone would tell me, no matter how ridiculous, more than my own thoughts, or feelings, or even if I knew the fact was different. The relationship gradually degenerated into something negative, and though I share my part to blame, it affected me more than I realised.

The idea of someone I ‘loved’ if, even to this day I understand the word when it refers to a romantic partner, but when meeting someone who broke me down more, and attacked me when I tried to walk away, on repeat, for about eight or so months, and I still, to this day, say, “It’s okay, we had our good bits.” It isn’t and it wasn’t okay. Her parents never saw it, neither did mine, for a while. They didn’t know she cheated on me half a dozen times, or would throw a punch at me for coming home half an hour later than she expected. It was my first proper relationship, so was this what a relationship was like?

No, it wasn’t. Eventually it came to a point where she brought that hatred and anger out of me and I felt like I wanted to hit her back and that was the point where I broke up with her, and it broke me because for the longest of time I had a chip on my shoulder which made me feel like I should never give up on someone, or walk away, because what would I do if I did that and then the next day, suddenly, they weren’t around anymore?

By the end of that relationship, when I finally made a choice between the man who I was scared of being, someone who you see in the news ‘Another man who hit his fiancee’, I finally made a choice of walking away, and in doing so, it was the first time I looked at myself in the mirror with mixed feelings, and unsure of myself, I tried to do more for me. Sure, it hurt when I found out she had cheated and when I was told it didn’t matter if I was my daughter’s father or not, it’s up to her mother whether I see her or not, and even, the legitimacy of her being mine was questioned, yet tests were rejected, I was lost for a while… and I drank, and meditated, and drank…

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I remember my brother and I got into a fight and I was beside myself — I didn’t remember fighting back, but I did, and for the first time stopped myself from getting shoved and pushed in the corner, but it felt wrong. This bottled up anger I gained from so many years of not fighting back, or standing up for myself, or just simply saying “No more!” had led me to a point where I felt split into two.

Once again, I stood at a point where I had a choice of the type of person I wanted to be, and I chose better. I worked on my anger, and I remember trying out so much meditation I looked at the individual reasons why I was so wound up and angry, and I let them go. I let them fucking go. Twenty damn years of being quiet, holding my tongue, thinking it wasn’t okay, and putting all these tokens into a box as if one day I would enact my revenge, and I just put the box down and let it go. All that fucking pain. I remember looking up and directing my questions at God as to why the fuck all that had to happen for me to learn how to let go, but I guess we are broken to be fixed.

So, I started breaking the habits. I got back into contact, and forgave people, and apologised to people who I felt I had unfinished business with… and though many of them seemed to think I had some ulterior motive, I didn’t, and time moved on. Suddenly, a few months down the line I had a call from social services, asking me to come in to see them.

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I got my life back on track… no, on track, and with a huge amount of help from my parents, my family, and those who stayed, I began taking steps forward, applied to uni, was a support worker, and every so often, I was greeted by a small smile in the mirror. When my daughter was a few months old I was asked what I wanted because so much had happened to her and her mother that she ended up in care. I wasn’t allowed to be in contact, so I wasn’t informed, but suddenly, I ended up with a six-month-old baby, seven days a week, and though I lived with my parents I tried to do it all on my own.

It was difficult, and it was hard, but it was the first person I met who helped me understand what love was and not the romantic kind, but an unconditional love, and though I felt more like I had a pet, than a mini person to look after, considering, anyone who has ever had a child, knows they pretty much poop, cry, eat, poop, and sleep, oh– and poop. Before I knew it we had our first house together, and I won custody in court.

So, it all goes fine, and though we had some hiccups, where I was attacked twice, and have dealt with some difficult financial times, managing University with a child, it took me twenty to twenty-two years to smile at myself in the mirror, and though I have a slip up here, and there, and get down, we spend the majority of our days smiling.

The sad thing for me is that I think I needed someone to rely on me, in order to give me purpose, and that my default feeling is a negative one, so it has taken a lot for me to get into a place where the only path I see forward, is one leading upward…

And here I am. I didn’t have the freedom of being able to go out at night, and I didn’t have the freedom of avoiding life whenever I pleased, and I no longer allowed myself to slope into depression, or slip into a dark place. I no longer let myself because it wasn’t only me who I had to look after. So, it’s safe to say that my daughter has helped me as much as I have helped her, if not more so. Now, I’m coming up to my third year at University, and it is hard. Sometimes, I sit here and think about stopping, but then I look her in the eyes and remember that I’m not only doing this for me but for her as well.

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Separately to my daughter’s needs, I’ve changed mine this year, over other years, and it’s taken me a long fucking time to wake up. In my first year, and second perhaps, I sometimes felt envious of people who could complain about everything and never lift a finger, or people who had it so easy but had a problem, or complained about him and her… etc etc…

It got me in a habit of doing it as well since sometimes, I reflect the energy of those I’m around…

This year… I’ve been distant, and cold with mostly everyone, because of this year, this month, this week, this hour, I realised something… I’m not in competition with them, I’m not in competition with my brother anymore, or my childhood friends, I’m not in competition with anyone in my year, or in uni and I’m not in competition with my best friend.

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The only person I’ve ever been in competition with, is myself, and though I am my own worst enemy, and I have been lucky enough to see both sides of my own coin, I also know that I plan, expect, and try hard to be better than I have been, and better than the person I was before I had a child, but it doesn’t stop there… my aim is to be better than who I was yesterday, and I always see room to improve, but I always see improvement.

So, if you started reading this post thinking it would be another sad story, think again because it’s not, it isn’t, and never will be. I never thought I was strong, and I hope that one day I will see strength in me, but I know, after all this, I’m not weak. So sometimes, I ignore everyone, and sometimes, the only social ability I have in my day is reserved for my daughter, but that doesn’t mean I’m sad, it means that I’m doing more than I’m speaking, and lately, I’m fed up of speaking.

I’ve shared my aims with you in my previous posts, of my weight loss, my writing, and I’ll get them done… so it’s time to remind myself of my own advice, and get on with it, because I am slowly finding pieces of myself to put back together, and I won’t pretend I’ve done it on my own, so if you find yourself reading this, and you’re still in my life, just know that I do care, and I appreciate you, and that even if you’ve never had the opportunity to hold your hand out for me, my hand will always be holding out for you, because I’ve been where you’re standing, and you’re not alone.

My name is Daniel, and this is a summary of my story up to now. It’s time to let go of who I once was, and allow me, who I am now, to be.

That person, this person, me, is someone who will keep walking forward, and never back.

“Less talking, more doing.”

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“And those who are no longer with us, be it by choice, or otherwise… you are never forgotten.”

 

“As for those who think everything is easy for me, I hope you understand a little bit about me now, because nothing is, for me, as it was.”

Axing a question

Sometimes there are things in life that are a lot more difficult than they should be. Sometimes it’s an exercise where we feel that we should be able to do it, but we can’t, and other times it’s something more delicate like dating or getting to know someone.

I’d like to think that perhaps it’s just my experience of dating and a poor judge of character that’s to blame but honestly, I’m not sure where to begin. So, alas, I’m back in my rightful place– a place where I no longer wish to have a relationship and am no longer looking for someone. In fact, if something happens over the summer then so be it, but it will stay in the summer.

The last person I started to get close to have made it so difficult to ask questions that it has put me off trying to date for a while… simply because I’m either faced with a defensive attitude, extra comments, or a demanding nature, and I don’t have time for either, and I’m a bit of a prick, myself, so two negatives, in this case, don’t make a plus. In fact, I have found more anxiety, and mood swings in the last 3-4 weeks of getting to know someone than I have in the two years at University, and therefore, brought it to a close. Who really has time for it?

So, that chapter of my life may be closed but I’m sure it’ll open many more chapters in life. When you want a future entirely different to another, your personalities clash, and you are confronted by an image of confrontation, and bargaining whenever you’ve had, when in actual fact, you’ve been close to the door handle for two out of three weeks. Maybe I’m too picky or that I need to keep my mouth closed, or maybe I’m the problem, but whatever it is… I’ll handle it.

Something else recently happened, I talked to someone who just wanted to be friends and I wanted to be friends with her, but the issue for me was that when we were snapping pics back and for and hanging out, I had the same feeling I did with the last time I made a very close friend, and we all know what happened there last summer and I don’t plan on having the heartache, or the head ache. I nibbed it in the butt before it began. I know some of you may think, “What are you thinking, stopping something before it’s even begun when you’re just assuming, or speculating.” I’m thinking that I wouldn’t be able to handle another headfuck in my final year of university so I opt out. Besides, if they matter so much, they’ll boomerang back into my path eventually. Or I’ll boomerang into theirs. Sadly, it seems escaping problematic situations isn’t my strong suit.

Finally, I have a picture for you!

So, what’s the amazing thing about this sentence?

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Happy days.

 

 

Upwards and onwards friends, it can only get better, right!?

Expectations meet Reality

I think we’re all looking for something, and the idea of looking for something, whether it’s an item, your favourite game, or the latest product in whatever aspect of our busy capitalistic lives or it could be a someone. When it is a someone I think part of us accelerates our movement, and when we find a shot of finding someone who resonates with us, we can sometimes shoot off like fireworks when we could just walk.

The problem with this is that this is an expectation that’s created by our own minds. Running and racing, pushing us down the rabbit hole of various desires, and slight obsessions, but expectations get crushed when the reality hits.

When you take two steps when you should’ve taken one, and you feel like you’re overbearing, and you step back, and then you suddenly seem like you don’t care, and then you stand there wondering how to fix the situation in front of you like it’s a problem that you can even begin to comprehend how to fix, or solve, or win.

It’s a constant tug of war, and when you meet someone who expects you to be a certain way, and you expect them to be a certain way, it can quickly become chaotic, problematic, and a little hard to handle. Arguments happen, and you go to and fro, and get in each other’s way, and if arguments start before you even become something, my advice is to walk away now because what would it be like in a few months? a few years?

So take a step back, without zooming into the distance and look at the big picture, compare what you expected, to reality, and ask yourself: “Is this what I really want” because if it isn’t, then it’s okay to step back. The bad thing to do is for either party to hold on when they’re not really interested in actually doing anything to change the direction it’s going.

This post may sound convoluted, or with dual meaning, but here’s a message for life, don’t do anything you want to do, and when you do commit to someone, if you’re like me, a commitment means commitment, not a joke so when you do feel cornered by the person you start to fall for, let them go, because love can’t survive when it’s cornered.

And if you’re the opposite, and you’re running in their direction, hands open, be prepared for a tumble and a fall, but that doesn’t mean you have to disperse and dissipate. Just look, think, and be honest with each other, and with yourself.

The thing you can do is take a step back and take in a breath of fresh air. Then, live life like a flowing river, so when you feel down, or when you feel trapped, or even when you feel scared, or driven away from what you want and what you love– remember that life is like a river– always moving. It will never be that way for long. Be like a river, and keep going.

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“It’s a good thing I’ve stopped looking, else I’d never see.”

– Daniel Thomas Whittington.

 

P.S

 

“Cree en ti misma, y cuando tu no lo hagas, lo hare yo.”

 

It’s times like these I miss you.

I don’t know how not to be a fool

I don’t know how not to be a fool, and this is becoming more and more prevalent the older I get. The issue I have is that I feel like I’m looking in every direction but can’t seem to actually take a solid step in a single direction and in doing that I’m still at the beginning, on my front page, looking at the blank page with nothing to fill it. I have the ink or the ability to type, it’s just I’m too scared to write a destination just in case it turns my life into stone and sets the way cement does between layers of bricks.

I want to think of myself, and then let myself get involved in other people, and I don’t mean the fun parts, but the stress, the drama, and the indulgence of idleness and the worst thing I’ve learned about myself is that I reflect the people around me like a god damn mirror. It’s horrific because I see myself as someone who’s independent and had hoped that I would not be so easily influenced by my surroundings but it turns out I am.

It’s why anyone who impedes with this perfect balance of positive and negative vibes, I can’t deal with and put a thousand yards between us – because balance is something superbly difficult for me to ascertain. Once I find it, I’m not interested in losing it, but the problem is that I seem incapable of leading myself down one path. So, healthiness gets balanced by shitty eating, and intelligence gets harmed by overthinking, and assumption.

I end up in a grey area where I’m not sure where to step and what direction to take. ‘Least of all, understanding the differences between what I should do and what I can do. The issue for me is that I don’t want to be around the mediocracy of people who have hit 18-24 and have already given up on their dreams because I don’t want to give up on mine. In the last 120 days, I’ve probably met with about 8 new people who have been lovely to talk to but lack ambition, interests, hobbies, anything that makes them stand out, and it sounds horrible but I don’t want to be like that.

I mean, my interests aren’t great, but at least I’m trying things out, doing new things, and will always aim for higher than expected. I say that now because I have that mindset, but I do quite frequently stop myself by not being able to take that first step into something more than myself. I think it’s been a switch in my head that activates when I feel like something is expected of me.

My aim is to overcome that fear of stepping, and stop overthinking it, and simply… step.

Even if it’s the first step which is the hardest, I will take that step, but I do wonder how sometimes and get stuck in this grey area where both feet are off of the ground neither stepping forward or stepping back.

So, from writing this I’ve come up with a sort of solution, or at least a…. something to get my started.

  • Sleep my 8 hours a night, minimum.
  • Schedule ‘me’ time.
  • Not only look in the mirror and ask myself what I see, but ask myself for the things I don’t see, and want to see, and plan on how to get there.
  • Spend 15 minutes a night writing a journal on how my progress is doing, so I can look back and see that I am moving forward.
  • Choose a fucking path. – This one might be a good start.
  • Stop breezing through social medias whenever I think I should be doing work. Just turn the phone off, look at the screen with a bit of audacity, and write.
  • Get shit done. Even if it’s one sentence at a time, or one chapter per day, get things done!

It’s already begun, I just need to kick myself up the arse.

‘Less talking, and more doing!’

 

A sour taste

There comes the point in your life when you feel isolated. Isolation is okay, and I need to tell myself that because otherwise, my isolation would be a nightmare. I don’t just mean the fact that I am alone, but isolation in the worst way; isolation when you’re not alone. I think times like these are the worst because even when you know, there are hands around you to catch you fall. You seem unable to reach them, and whether that’s because you feel like you’re slipping through their grip, or they are simply out of reach as you fall beside them is certainly another question.

It is certainly times like these where I feel alone. When the house is quiet, and though my daughter is here she is fast asleep and dreaming of better places, and distant worlds while I am here. I am grinding my teeth. I am stressed out and avoiding the housework like any ‘house husband’ should, and though I lack the wife to be a house husband, it doesn’t stop me from referring to my abundantly clear lack of motivation in housework. I’m sure my mother would be ashamed of me, though, this state is only temporary, and I’m well aware it is so.

A simple moment of solace at the end of the day is enough to make you question the world, and ask stupid questions like ‘Why, how, when, where, what?’ But this time I find myself sitting here just staring at the wall. I’m a little run down from the stress which involves others, but also, myself, because on days like this I feel like I’m slipping, even if it’s just my footing, I am slipping.

I know that slip is temporary, that a fall like this is for but a single moment, but still, I savour it like savouring the taste of fine food. Tomorrow, after feeling sorry for myself, I’ll stand strong and with the motivation to do the things that I need to do. For tomorrow is my dissertation work, for tomorrow is a gym day, and tomorrow is judo. I haven’t been to judo for a while, and I need to go back. I’m a little annoyed at myself.

I’m not scared of death, but I am scared of dying in life.

– Daniel Thomas Whittington

What’s the deal, Dan?

So, yeah, I look back at the last couple of years and it annoys me a little when I see my conscious, and unconscious minds work against one another. I’ve distanced myself from people I’ve liked, cared for and wanted to get close to, and then other times I’ve clung to the people that show me little to no interest? It’s ridiculous.

So, I’ve started to think that after being in a position where it has just been my daughter and me for the last 4 years, other than very short forms of dating, or relationships, I’m a little scared of intimacy. I mean, my understanding of intimacy or experience of intimacy is a little twisted due to being in an abusive relationship for about two years. When someone throws a bucket load of mental abuse your way, or physical abuse and can still tell you they love you every day/night it does shape the way you see things like that.

But, what I’ve found is that I think I’m my own enemy in this, so when I do meet someone who’s sassy, or full of banter, and enjoys throwing a meaningless insult around now and then, it somehow affects me, even when I’m consciously sure it wouldn’t. That’s pretty sad though, isn’t it?

So, I’ve tried mindlessly dating and figured out it’s not for me, meeting people with a half-assed attitude towards something that might or might not be, and it takes one or two of the wrong sentences (not spelling, but rather opinion) to put me off a person entirely.

The sad thing is that I’ve met some really nice people over the last few months, but sometimes I feel like I keep meeting people at the wrong time. Or, simply, it’s just the universe’s way of telling me to walk away. Sometimes, I think life would be a lot easier if I just stopped trying to control my life and let be what it is. But, then, my friend wouldn’t be able to call me a fool then, would she?

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Also, I can’t buy myself a tarot card deck, it has to be gifted, so if anyone’s interested in helping me with that feel free. Ha.

So, after all this time, and I could meet some incredible people, and I have met an incredible person, sometimes, the things I worry about take time to reveal themselves, and those things are worries that aren’t even at this time yet. Situations like, I’ve decided that I want to move abroad for quite some time, and the people I do seem to really get along with or get close to all seem to want to stay where they are, end of story.

I wouldn’t mind staying here, it wouldn’t be my first choice so that person would have to be pretty damn special for that to happen.

The other thing that I find difficult is the idea of getting close to someone again, and I’m really not sure whether I purposely go out of my way to find someone who has the ability to both build me up and shatter me in a few simple words, or whether love is a perpetually walking blind man. That, or I could secretly be a masochist.

This is isn’t a rant, for once, and actually, my life has been going okay, I should be working on improving my mental capabilities much more than I have been, but on the bright side, I’ve lost 13KG so far, and I’m starting to feel better about myself, yesterday was the first time I led on beach with my shirt off in my adult life. Can you believe it? I didn’t feel like I people were laughing at me or anything, which is a massive thing for me because I’ve always felt like I was too fat to do certain things, especially when it came to my body.

In fact, I did a 60 minute run for the first time and it felt great. I felt like I accomplished something really important, and in all honestly, I’m proud of myself for doing it, and now I’m doing them three times a week.

But, enough about the rest, right now, this is about relationships and love.

I’d love for someone to prove me wrong and allow me to understand the positivity and welcoming emotions that love is supposed to bring, and I hope that one day I get to a point where I do feel that way, but at the moment, I feel like I’m asking for something that may not quite exist for me. Simply put, I don’t want to walk on eggshells around someone, and I’ve got into so many arguments over people not understanding whether I’m joking, or being serious, but rather than just asking, things get so heated.

 

Actually, I get a huge blast of anxiety when someone assumes things about me because it’s one of my biggest issues. I seem to come across as serious, and overwhelmingly ambitious, and complicated, and all that jazz, but in reality, I’m probably as simple as a puppy, I just want a little bit of attention and a little bit of love. I know, I referred to myself as a puppy, I’m aware.

Complicated situations, arguments, passive aggressiveness, and aggression are just huge no-no’s when you realise that you can live your life asking “Why me?” or you can live your life asking, “Why not me?” and I want to be part of the latter. I want to live my life asking the question why not me, why can’t I do these things, because I can, and will, not I can’t and give the excuses that I’m not good enough, or better yet, give no excuse at all.

I just want to add that I don’t look for someone who resembles the latter, I look for something so much weirder than that, that spark you find in someone’s eye, and in the conversations that you have. That connection to someone trumps over looks/behaviour any day and I think, though I’m very emotionally aware, I’m also very aware that some people aren’t as emotionally developed, and never thought to ask questions about why they feel a certain way about something, and I think everything is a learning experience.

I just want to fill my life with more of them.

“You can’t beat death, but you can beat death in life”

– Charles Bukowski

 

P.S I could be feeling all of this, or I could be exhausted, tired, and hangry. I’m not quite sure.

Making a commitment to yourself

I think determination is one of the hardest things for me to come by, and I know that sounds crazy with all the posts I throw on here with the intention of doing things greatly, perfectly, and right, but determination and focus are two things that are impossibly difficult for me to maintain.

I thought about something today, and I spent some time with someone who was so focused on other people, dedicating her life with the idea of yearning for other peoples’ affections; not just one, or the idea to start a family, or to settle, but to earn the friendship of two dozen people. I think, today I have learned something about myself, that my convictions are at least, stronger than my doubt, and when I was told it wouldn’t make a difference, I think it did, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

And though I wasn’t allowed to lecture her, I think, I hope, that having someone to look you in the eyes and tell you that they are there for you, might be a start for someone. It may not be enough, and it may not be the end goal, but it might be a start.

The thing is, and I’ve thought long and hard about this. I don’t think that seeking the approval of other people is what is important in life. I think that the only person you need to seek approval from is yourself, and when you can’t satisfy yourself, you seek other people to fill that gap. I know that inner voice is harsh, and burning with an accusing tone, but you are the only person in the world who can change that.

My biggest critic is myself, and I let myself continuously fall into a controlling, demeaning tone which is belittling by nature, an accusing tone telling me over and over that I’m not good enough for the things I want to do, the person I want to be, the places I want to get to, and that needs to change.

I think, so, by no means is this the right way, but I think that the most important person to seek approval from is definitely yourself.

If you can change that accusing tone, you’re already on the right track. Rather than seeking extrinsic motivation to live your live look inwards and ask yourself the questions “Who are you?” and “What do you want?” “How will you get it?” and “What’s stopping you?”

I think we should all have goals that are related to us, and ourselves alone, ones that don’t rely on other people. Goals that are personal to you, be it travelling, or reading all the books you’ve ever wanted… if you’re not trying to get out of your shitty situation, then you’re choosing to stay in that position.

I think it’s time I commit myself to myself so I don’t contradict myself for a final time this summer. I need to remember that the focus should be on me, and not be wavered for the first person that comes my way.

Stop being a victim, and go get what you want from life, and remember to enjoy it, for you, and no one else!

That summer feeling

It’s that time of the year, between the hayfever, and allergic responses where I actually want to leave my house and soak in the sun. I want to, for the first time in a few years now, and though I used to avoid it like the plague when I was younger, I love the feeling now. Now, now, now, I’ve got a few plans for summer, and I’ve got a few things to say.

Firstly, I want to lose thirty KG, and those of you who’ve kept up with my blog will know that I originally said 40, yes, I’ve lost 10, and I want to keep going. In all honestly, I feel a bit better, aside from the unrelenting tiredness that comes with hay fever, but I’ll live with that. I’ll admit though when I seem to meet new people I end up slacking and that’s what I did last week, avoided judo because I was with someone, when really, I should’ve just taken her. Ha-ha.

Next, I want to get through a hundred pages of my novel. Sure, maybe it’ll only be the first draft but I want to start working on something that’s personal to me. I’m fed up of giving myself excuses and such, but hopefully… no more!

On the next part of my list, I’ve got to challenge myself to write my dissertation over summer, which I’ve got no clue on the content as of yet, but I wish to write something using the minimalistic style, which those of you who follow me should know that I’m terrible at and that I like to flare things up in my writing– I mean, why not? Ha.

I need to read the books for next year– no question about it. I’m still on ‘A Sicilian Romance’, which seems to be quite fun to read so far, but I should get on with it.

Lastly, I want to meet someone I can share not just my life with but our life with, and you might be reading this rolling your eyes, and tutting under your breath but I can’t pretend to not want that closeness etc. In fact, I met someone I shared five days straight with, which was quite rare for me, considering usually, after a first date I want to run. People scare me, okay? Haha.

I guess I got along with this person, which was a nice surprise. In fact, I’m seeing her tomorrow as well, though drama does like to follow her, I am looking forward to getting to know her more.

Speaking of other things than romance, I’ve started my internship and seeing how that goes.

So all in all, I’m looking forward to this summer, and can’t wait until I can get up and take my daughter to the beach when it gets warmer. Hopefully, we’ll have some company with us.

I hope everyone enjoys their summer and has a great time!

Don’t forget to smile because it might brighten someone else’s whole world up!

 

Water, oh noes, lemme smash, and TEST TEST

I’ve had one brilliant day today; a really good one. Flippin’ heck, as my teacher would say. Lots of things on the list of this evening’s post.

Firstly, I know we all play hot and cold due to having our very dynamic and varying moods, but it’s been a real pleasure getting to know someone new lately, in fact, I’d say it’s the most I’ve talked to someone in a few years, and if any of you know anything about me, that means more to me than looks, intellect of the ability to provide satisfaction, (tell me you didn’t say satisfaction in your head like in the song?).

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Moving on from that and onto my canoeing adventure today! I went out with my best buddy Conor to have a fairly fun experience canoeing down the River Wye. So, we didn’t stop off at the pub, and it was Conor’s first experience canoeing! Ha-ha, something to remember, and amongst certain conversations and a long conversation with him about someone he met, and teasing him with the meme ‘lemme smash’ which will be shown at the bottom of the post. (you’re welcome). We spent a few hours rowing down the river, and we spent a few hours, including breakfast getting there this morning.

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One of my friends, Liz, took us there, and we had a chat with her and her mum. It was a nice catch-up and I remembered why I missed seeing them so much, she used to be my neighbour and we used to see each other every day, and now, I hadn’t seen her in about a year, maybe two. That will definitely have to change!

So, after finishing the course and heading home, we missed the bus and had time so we had a lovely meal at ‘The Punch House’ in Monmouth where we ate a taverner’s chicken meal, which was what we would call Huntsman chicken, ha, can’t fool me.

Image result for the punch house

After wasting some time, we went home. I’ll be honest, the bartender scared me a little. Either she was in a mad rush, and the boss of all things in that place, or she just simply didn’t like us. Maybe she knew we weren’t from there. Who the heck knows.

After leaving Monmouth at about 4:30, we fell asleep on the bus, waking up now and then, in Usk and then Caerleon before getting back to Newport. Jeez, such a long trip. We headed to the train station and heard of a fatality halting some of the trains.

When it comes to death I feel callous and cold, and I had the opinion that people die every day, why feel sad over another one? And, I think if there was ever a Sims 3 friendship sign above our heads, it would’ve been a negative one above Conor’s. He was quite conflicted about how to feel about it. I suppose that’s the difference when you hear about several deaths on the tracks, compared to the first time. I may be a little heartless but I appreciate the tender look at life in cases like that.

After a good day out we went our separate ways, and I almost missed my stop by falling asleep, again. I got off and headed home. I realised how burnt I was, and have red marks down my wrists, face and kneecaps. I do have a tan line on my left wrist from my watch, which amused me for a little while. I know, it’s the little things, right?

I sat down for a bit, talked to a few people, casually said goodbye to two people that had been communicating with me for a while but with empty words, as if they felt they had to but weren’t interested in getting anywhere with me. I didn’t feel much about that, I guess I’m getting used to saying it now– who knows whether that’s a good thing or not.

 

In other news, I unboxed my delivery and opened my grey pair of trousers, white shirt, and waistcoat waiting for me. I’ve got to look professional when going to teach on Monday, haven’t I? Ha-ha.

Finally,

I’ve been testing out a different style of writing, one in which I don’t fluff around with the words and get straight to the point until it comes to an area of immense drama, to create a more intense atmosphere when needed.

My teacher gave my some good advice and she said, “you can’t start off with a nuclear explosion and then go back to normal.” It made a lot of sense to me.

Here’s a sample of what I’ve written, what do you think?

 

                He made her a promise; that he did, a contract so to speak, though it was more of a death wish with that woman. Thomas was a fool who promised the world a new skin. Everyone, including he knew it was impossible but still he pledged his services at an early age to a lady who caught his eye. Probably the gold of a fool that kept his eyes shining. A fool’s gold usually gets him killed, and this one will, probably.

Twelve years old, a year earlier than the rest, Thomas, a boy of pale skin, fine brown hair, and piercing green eyes knelt before a girl not a day older. She was a little different, like the consort to the most impeccable innocence. Far-stretching, but true just the same. She had raven-black hair and sapphires for eyes. She granted him a dance, and a fine one at that. They never touched, not once, but when shuffling around one another like a pair of mating birds they were connecting, something more serious, and only a touch more dangerous.

A promise is a promise and that’s just what he did, and when he leant in, their faces almost touched, but he was close enough to use that silver-tongue for something, “Open your window after the dance and come with me for a walk please?”

The young lady smiled, Freya was her name, and she liked his arrogance, and admired his courage. That was dangerous, too; more so. The men in the room chuckled, and drank themselves to sleep telling each other stories of how big and bad they were during the last war. Trinson told stories about how he stood as the big scary wolf with lightning-fast reflexes. Nilvar told stories about how he charged through a hundred men like a mighty boar with his hammer. There were seven others, whose names were not important, not to Thomas, at least, and that’s the one who stayed awake. He was watchful of Alaric’s ire, a boy a few years older who had an eye for the same girl as he, yet could not pluck the courage out of the air around him like Thomas could. Thomas had plenty of that, and if he could have only plenty of one thing it would certainly be courage. He was a fool after all.

Everyone retired to their chambers, filling the rooms of a usually empty castle, and instead of having cold stone walls like it typically felt like, it felt warm. The corridors were littered with standing torches and Thomas had to be careful. He opened the door to his chamber, cracking it open an inch before freezing. His father, Trinson turned, burping and farting his way back to sleep.

So, that’s that. I’m tired, and about to head to bed. If I’ve forgotten anything…. ah yes…

lemme smash:

It could be argued my friend is very much in this situation. heh.

A bitter taste

“But somewhere along the line you changed. You Stopped being you. you let people stick a finger in your face and tell you you’re no good. And when things got hard you started looking for something to blame, like a big shadow. Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain’t all sunshine and rainbows. It’s a very mean and nasty place and I don’t care how tough you are it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. you, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t how hard you hit; it’s about how hard you can get it, and keep moving forward. how much you can take, and keep moving forward.” – Rocky Balboa

There are many things in life that you come across which you are completely unprepared for; be it having children, dealing with conflict, personal or political, depressions and anxieties, and social change, losing time, and many more things. Something that I don’t think anyone is prepared for is war.

War is something that is as old as we are, and some people argue that it is in human nature to war and to fight, to kill, and to take, because of we, as homo sapiens seem hellbent on the savagery of our most primal instinct. Arguably powerful men argue over the longstanding argument which has plagued kingdoms and nations for as far back as we have recorded history: We need war for peace.

I’ve always believed there needs to be a balance, which is why you hear of these great times, where civilisations rose and fell overnight from plagues and sicknesses like the natural balances are restoring. Is this argument, that primal instinctual drive collective, unconscious, something that naturally creates monsters so that we can face a time of hardship and self-destruct?

Spiritualists talk about the idea that each and every one of us has a monster inside of us, lurking and churning, waiting for us to make a mistake so it can seep in its claws.

The thing is, I don’t believe we are restricted to our past or our unwelcome behaviour. I think war is for the weak, and killing, damaging, hurting, cursing, and destroying is for the weak. I don’t think it’s the case of our animal instincts luring us onto a path we can not return from.

I think we make a choice, and we need to ask ourselves whether we can do better.

Pain, in my belief, breeds beauty, and beauty is what I’ve seen over the last few years. When a bomb goes off,  like the one in Manchester did and you have hundreds of people helping, volunteering and acting out of love for their neighbour. People of all religions and of none, because religions do not define you. Such things where people automatically feel inclined to help and actually do help are such amazing people and they are people to look up to, without a doubt in my mind.

The people who are not people to look up to are people who stood, stumble and fall into darkness, into copying acts of human history with bigger toys because they’re too scared to try better ways. Now, I won’t pretend like our governments are perfect, neither here, nor there, nor anywhere but I’ll tell you this, whether it is us bombing them, or them bombing us it is wrong. That’s what I know.

You might think it’s cool or fine to bomb people because they’re foreign, or different, or don’t follow the same ethical code as you, but it isn’t. It’s the same for terrorists like the terrorist of Manchester, it is disgusting, and it is shameful.

Dozens and dozens of bomb threats have been raised since Manchester, and people have retaliated against their neighbours, sure, you might suspect your neighbour of being a terrorist, but there is nothing worse than revenge against people for sharing the same colour as a terrorist, or having a similar beard, or have been known to read the same book.

These people are sick with the delusion that what they are doing is right, and there will always be people who understand right from wrong but some people lose their fight to their monsters and become one. I’m not justifying actions or saying it is okay, but what I am saying is that we need to rise above this, and be better because what matters is now how we are hit, but what we do after we get hit. It should have never gotten to this point, but here we are because people are too scared to act even with the information they need to arrest and detain questionable people.

I feel uncomfortable and I don’t want to feel that way. Some people are treating this like a game of chess, and that people are pawns, well– they are not, have never been, and never will be…

Have a nice fucking day. Be better than that monster.

This has all left a bitter taste in my mouth that can no longer be ignored.