I’m blogging on the train again, go me that’s twice in one month. Is it the same month? I dunno. Who cares.

Today was one of those days where I just had to get up and leave work because I was in fear of my ‘Are you fecking serious’ meter going unto hyperdrive and blowing the top clean off my heed. Thunderous looks and muttered ‘fucks’ were flying in all directions to an audience of myself, mainly because I’ve decided I’m the only one who listens. I can’t even use the PMT card, I’m just angry!

How many things does it take before someone actually breaks, because at this rate I’m going to break myself. I hate anxiety and worry, rotten little shits, always on my case they are.

I’m going home to sit down in a dark room and give myself a good talking to!

Thanks for reading, I feel better now :)

Settle Down


If you read the tips pages on WordPress, they advise that you should never apologise for an absence, so I won’t, I shall simply start with hello again. That said, those of you who have followed me for a while are well used to my absences.

I didn’t write last week, I didn’t even read much. As far as weeks go, it was the worst one in a long time. There was so much going on and things were continually piling in on top of each other. The Mothership was stressed and seeing things under the table, and I was stressed wondering how I was going to extract a urine sample from her, whilst worrying about the fact she was seeing things under the table. I end up walking around with constant nausea because worry turns my stomach into a washing machine.

Imagine a day where you have a shadow and that shadow is constantly talking at you and getting irritated when you don’t understand. Imagine finishing all the housework and finally sitting down only for the door to open and the shadow to appear asking yet another question which means you have to get up cos you need to be shown what it relates to. To finally get to sleep at 4am to be woken the next morning to start the routine of dressing the shadow. I may turn to alcohol!

Work was just as bad, I’m finding it really stressful. I get up in the morning and feel nauseous because I have no idea what I am going in to. I leave work and feel nauseous because I have no idea what I am coming home to. I’m not sleeping which of course makes everything seem ten times worse than it actually is.

I broke down in work the other day and told my boss I was not cut out for the job and that I couldn’t do it. I hate to admit failure, but, that’s genuinely how I feel, my job is making me feel stupid, which in turn is giving my already low confidence a good boot in the balls. He was very nice about it, but he more than likely thinks I am a fruit loop. Ah well if the cap fits.

Phew, I feel better after writing all that and now I’ve left myself with nowhere to go. I really don’t want hugs or kind words or commiserations, I just needed to get that off my chest. With a few nights good sleep (hopefully) I’ll be dead on. Tell me a joke instead or something random that will make me smile!

Missed you lot.

(I deliberated about posting this, because I really do not want sympathy, if it’s this hard for me, imagine what it must me like for the Mothership, but I promised myself a while ago I would write the good and the bad and that’s what I need to do. Better out than in as the man says!)

Digging for Roots wearing DM boots!

In this week’s Weekly Writing Challenge, tell us about what makes you, you.

Although I studied Biology at school and by some complete miracle eventually passed it, my knowledge of the human body and what it comprises of is very limited. That said, apart from the tiny birthmark beside my left eye and the 6 inch scar on my kneecap, I am, for the most part, just like every other person on the planet. So what does make me, me?

We’re told we inherit things from our parents, my Mother gave me a splash of red hair and no doubt a little of the fire in my temper also. My father, well he gave me heartburn and anxiety, but sadly thought it unnecessary to pass on some of his laid back demeanor, when not suffering from the second affliction.

I am an extremely simple, yet complex individual. One of these days I will sit down with the latter and have a discussion about why we are the way we are. Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, but sometimes your own advice, as directed by following your gut instinct, is the only one you should heed.

I am a daydreamer and a wistful thinker always staring into a glass that is half empty instead of half full. I have imagination, but I lack the concentration to align the two to make something amazing…one of these days.

I am lonely sometimes, but yet I am surrounded by many people who care for me. It’s hard to make people understand when you cannot understand yourself.

I worry. It is not a choice as some people seem to think, because do you not think if I had the choice I would stop. It’s an affliction and sometimes it is crippling. Yes, of course I could take tablets, but isn’t that a little like papering over the cracks?

I like to make people laugh and sometimes, for all the ills mentioned above, laughter is the best tonic.

There are many things that make me the person I am, but I am nothing special. I’m just trying to navigate life as best I can. Sometimes, it gets a little rocky, and there are days when I don’t think I can go on, but I do, because I have to.

There are many people in this world and each one is unique, which in turn makes me unique, that in itself is a reason to smile.

The rights and wrongs of rocking!


I have to face facts, I am just not destined to have routine, order and a plan in my life. When I do, something comes along and knocks it for six.

I’ve been hit with a work conundrum, as in I have been given possible options and I have no idea which to choose. Suffice as to say it was totally out of the blue and when three hours later the shock wore off, my stomach was like a washing machine on spin cycle.

I know, without a shadow of a doubt I am my own worst enemy. I am told it at least once a week. I have myself convinced I cannot do something before I even try it. That said, I don’t tell people that I feel I cannot achieve something just to get them to disagree and flatter my ego. I tell people, because that it was I believe and the thought of change scares the absolute shit out of me. That said, sometimes a change is as good as a rest.

I lost my whole weekend (and valuable blogging time) to my best friend worry, running over scenarios in my head and trying to devise solutions to problems that may never arise. It is one of my worst attributes, from my point of view anyway, my work colleagues would no doubt offer some more were you to ask them. It is true what this quote says:

Worrying is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but doesn’t get you anywhere.

Based on that, I rocked the weekend away and still didn’t reach a resolution.

The thing is, if I don’t believe in myself, how can I ever expect anyone else to. I take criticism to heart and shy away from compliments. I have no faith in myself and after 42 years it’s highly unlikely I am going to find any now. In an effort to improve I may have to invest in either a self help book or a bar of chocolate!

How do you know you’re making the right decision though? and do you believe that what’s for you will not go by you. Is it a case of kicking back and waiting to see how it all pans out and dealing with the consequences when they arise?

I’ve adopted that attitude today, because I needed to stop the chair rocking. It was giving me motion sickness.

Nothing may come out of all of this anyway.believe it was just someone putting out feelers to gauge my reaction, but it’s started a thought process that cannot be stopped. Knowing my luck right when I decide I  might need a change after all, the option will no longer be on offer. Only time will tell, and for now I just have to wait.

Now do you see what I am called indecisive! :)

P.s Yes! I know it could have been worse, I could have been handed my P45!

Am I feeling Guilty?


So I think I finally figured out what it is that has been bugging me and stalling my activity on the blog just a little. I feel guilty, go figure!

Anyone who knows me in real life can vouch for the fact I am a worrier. In fact it is one of the things I am well known for. At Christmas even the Fathership turned traitor and wrote in my card that he wished me a worry free 2014, we laughed about it afterwards because he realised that statement was a stupid as I did.

I worry about everything, and I mean e v e r y t h i n g. I am though,  getting better at trying to use coping strategies. They don’t always work, but for the 10 minutes I try,  it at least focuses my mind on something else.

I care a lot about what people think of me, I know I shouldn’t, because I don’t need approval from anyone else, but for some reason I still do. I would guess that deep down most of us are the same.

Throughout my time here, I have been amazed at the support I have received from others. There have been people who have been with me every step of the way, commenting on almost every post I have written. Of late, for one reason or another I have not had the same time to read, comment on and write posts. I have still been reading, but it’s usually a quick 5 minutes here or there when I can grab the time, meaning comments fall by the wayside. I still try to like everything I have read and erm liked, assuming WP is working correctly, the like button has been a little temperamental of late.

Commenting, when I do have the time, still causes me issues. I know you might find it hard to believe, but,  sometimes I am at a complete loss for words, so rather than make an ass of myself I say nothing at all. It does’t mean I like you or your post any less, it’s usually just that I am dumbstruck / awestruck or have nothing further to add to what you or your commenter’s have already said. The other reason is that I consider you to be smarter than the average bear, well this one anyway. In fact that accounts for pretty much 100% of the blogs I follow. Damn all you smart people!

So in an effort to help myself feel a little less guilty and to ease some of the worry I am writing this post by way of explanation and apology.

I am very grateful to every follower I have, and to every blog I follow for keeping me entertained. I am sorry that right now I can’t get to like and comment on everything, but you have to believe that I really wish I could. I don’t want anyone to ever think I am just not bothering, because that’s not the case. The truth is, I would be lost without all of you. You’re like my very own Newspaper, providing gossip, drama, comedy, cartoons, fortune telling via a Music Quiz and something far better than Dear Dierdre ever was in the shape of Mr Smithson. Anyone want to volunteer for Mr Page 3??

There are so many challenges I would also like to do, but time just gets away from me. I try to squeeze in as many as I can.

My worrying self knows realistically that no one probably notices or cares whether or not I do challenges, comment, like or read and that right now you are probably shaking your head and thinking what on earth is that stupid cow on about now, and you’d be right, but it was worrying me, so I had to get it out there, to get over it.

All these things are important to me, as are all of you, and I just needed to remind you of that!

Leave your shoes at the door!

New Shoes
Image from

I don’t normally do the DP Weekly challenge, but this one’s Rara’s so I’m going to give it a go!

Weekly Writing Challenge: Leave Your Shoes at the Door

I’m usually afraid to do challenges like  this because I am always scared that my interpretation of the question will be so far off the wall that no one will have a clue what I am on about.

For some strange reason when  I thought about this challenge all I could think about was writing what it would be like to walk in someone else’s shoes for a day. Then I thought, why would I walk in someone else’s shoes, when for so many reasons I am not comfortable walking in my own.

On the 5th July 2012 my life changed. People had a habit of saying to me, if you don’t slow down, something is going to happen to make you slow down. My Mum had a mini stroke which resulted with a bleed on the brain around 10 – 12 years ago. Over the last 5 – 6 years she has been getting worse with regards to memory, speech etc, albeit very slowly.

I’d already started to do the housework on Saturdays, after working all week, and then heading in for a 10 hour night shift on a Saturday night. My own work at the time was pretty stressful and on the day of my accident the form in the house was pretty bad. Walking through the living room I tripped and ruptured the patella tendon in my left knee.

I’d never had surgery before.  I’m not ashamed to say I cried. It was the first time I’d had to sign a form to acknowledge the fact that I might die during some procedure or another.  Thankfully I came out the other side.

In the following months during my recovery, I was really low. Always used to working I found the whole doing nothing thing was harder than I imagined. I’m a terrible worrier, in fact, if I am not worrying, I start to worry that I have forgotten what the original problem was. I am also crippled with anxiety. I am finally able to admit it now. I was worried I was never going to walk again.

Being at home for 6 months allowed me to see just how much my Mum had deteriorated and about a month before I was due to go back to work I started to cook the dinners, I was the hop along chef! It’s stayed like that ever since. Now I do the washing, change the beds, all the cooking and cleaning.

I can no longer walk in the shoes I wore pre accident, and I am not walking the same path either. Everything has changed, I can’t honestly say for the better. If I had a pound for all the people who have told me it will get worse before it gets better, I’d be a rich woman.

I have no self confidence, I am a born worrier prone to anxiety and despite how I come across I am actually quite shy until I get to know you, being behind a computer screen is fine. I also now have an intermittent limp and pain most days, but I am walking and that’s the main thing.

So now you see why I wouldn’t feel comfortable writing about being in someone else’s shoes, until I am comfortable in my own. I have a lot of work to do! I need to get new shoes :)