Why worry?

I spent the better part of this week worrying and fretting about things that never even happened. I’m good at that. If it was something I could make a career out of I would quite possibly be a millionaire by now.

Let’s turn the tables on the normal thinking around the worrying process, they say 99% of the things you worry about never happen, so what if it keeps bad things from happening. That said, I am forgetting the stress I put myself under, so perhaps rather that it being some kind of talisman, it is simply just irrational .

Abraham Hicks said ‘Worrying is using your imagination to create something you don’t want’. If only when the negative thoughts moved themselves to the forefront of my brain I could instead imagine a world of exploding colours  filled with all the things that make me smile.

There was a brief time in the midst of my counselling where I felt peace, not inner peace exactly, but a calmness, where my noisy brain was unusually quiet. I wondered if this was what life was like for normal people, and found myself jealous of their uncomplicated and uncluttered thought processes that were so at odds with my own.

I miss my counselling, it was the kick up the backside I needed that I was unable to give myself. I could go back, but what would be the point, I need to be able to take what I have been given and move forward on my own. I can’t crumble at the first hurdle, only this last two weeks it feels like there have been an awful lot of hurdles.

I have to dust myself off and move on, Rome wasn’t built in a day.




Image result for quotes about thoughts

At any given time there are a million little thoughts going through my head. Complex to process it is not always possible. Sometimes I don’t even try.

I never experience a lull like others do. Those moments of relative quiet where everything can be gathered together.

Peace brings anxiety, a need to fill silences, something to worry about. Other things to add to the mix. Quiet reflection is a fanciful notion clearly meant for others.

I’m trying to learn to rewire my brain. It is going to take time and I need to remember I am a work in progress.

Note to self regarding anxiety: Just because I think it doesn’t make it true!


When words won’t come

Why do I find it so hard to write. It’s not like I have nothing to say, my mind is a constant mix of possibilities vying for attention, they just never seem to make it from mind to where it matters.

I felt restricted on my other blog, not by anyone in the WordPress community, but by my family and friends, the people who know me in real life. It’s hard to lay yourself bare to people who interact with you on a daily basis. Most people who write would understand the need to and how healing it can be. We don’t mean everything we write, sometimes it’s just a way of making sense of the murky insides of our brains.  So many times when I have been venting I have had family members message me to ask if I am ok or do they need to worry about me. Usually by the time I have finished my post I have worked out whatever my issue is, I just needed to lay it down in order to understand it and then draw a line under it. So as well meaning as people are, because it is nice to know people care, it’s hard having to justify yourself.

I thought coming here to write would be the answer to the conundrum, I could be anonymous again and not have to worry about either confusing or offending anyone within my immediate circle of either family or friends. I have long since stopped caring about stats or views, this is a place where I will write for myself regardless. What I do miss though are my WordPress family, I miss their interaction and their virtual hugs. I miss their wit and sarcasm, humour and honestly. But how would they view me if they were to also read this blog, which can sometimes be a polar opposite of the other. Again with the worry, why?

I came here to be free, but still the words do not come.

What is it I find so difficult about delving into my past, is there something I need to unlock to retrieve the memories in order for me to write about them? Why can I not just write without restraint and worry, because I have seen others who do, and the results are magical.

Perhaps one day I will be free and then perhaps what I write will be magical too.

Moaning Monday

It’s been a pretty up and down three months. Looking back I am amazed that I have made it out the other side relatively unscathed. Sure I have war wounds and I have to learn to adjust and carry on with my life, but things could be worse.

I’ve been trying to be pretty upbeat while dealing with my anxiety issues. Since the turn of the New Year I have given up cigarettes, completed a course of counselling and more importantly given up chocolate….that was by far the hardest bit.

I went back to work two weeks after my Mother passed away. In hindsight it probably wasn’t a good idea, but it wasn’t until after Christmas when everything started to slow down and normalize that things started to sink in. Now I am finding work difficult.

I cannot fault my bosses, they have been amazing, through the whole time my Mother was ill and after her passing. They have been understanding of my situation and given me both space and time to adjust.The problem is not them, it’s mainly me and perhaps a few other people within my work circle. My confidence or lack of is my single biggest downfall, and always has been. I’m never going to be the kind of person who enters a room, throws my arms in the air and announces my arrival. 

In a working environment there are always going to be differing personalities. I’m not very good at putting my point across and even when I feel I am in the right I will back down when confronted. I know it happens and yet I still allow it to make me miserable instead of just shrugging my shoulders and notching it down to experience. 

I’ve decided that from now on I need to do one of two things, I either just acknowledge it happens, that I don’t have the balls to deal with it and get on with my life or I give myself a good talking to and learn to confront my demons. I don’t need to be forceful, I just need to be strong. I need to learn to stand up for myself. 

Sometimes being a work in progress sucks!

On My Own


My counselling has finished, it’s time for me to head back into the big wide world with no back up. This time however I have the tools to hopefully tackle my inner demons and finally get my life on track.

I’ve said before that I want 2017 to be the year, the year for what I hear you ask, well the year in which I make changes. I’ve spent the last 4 years of my life caring for my Mum and now she is gone it’s time for me to focus on my own health and well being, not just for myself, but so I can be around for my Dad as well.

I’ve already made a start, finally giving up cigarettes just before the New Year. I wasn’t an overly heavy smoker, but it had got to the stage where I no longer enjoyed smoking and thought what the hell, there was nothing to lose. It’s been going not too bad, the first week was a breeze and then the nicotine withdrawal rage kicked in. Thankfully I made it through without killing anyone….well so far anyway, almost 5 weeks in.

There are other changes I need to make, like looking after my mental well-being. Counselling has taught me that I constantly need to challenge myself to counter the effects of my anxiety and my lack of self confidence. I am my own worst enemy, I would never tell anyone else they are useless, so why do I do it to myself? Before I worry about anyone else, I need to learn to love myself, quirks and all. Perhaps then I will start to let others in.

I’m finally going to get over myself and my stupid fears and go to both the dentist and the Dr. I’ve been at the dentist recently but it’s been a while since I was at the Doctors, mainly because I am scared of what they will tell me. What you don’t know doesn’t hurt you right?! These days I am wore worried that what I don’t know might kill me, so it’s time to grow a set and go.

Weight is another issue. I’ve some to the conclusion that after 40 odd years my puppy fat is not going to disappear, damn all those people who told me that I would grow out of it, you liars! So I need to motivate myself and start eating a little healthier. Oh crisps I will miss you…

I’m not that naive that I think this is going to be easy, I know it’s not, but last year wasn’t easy either and we made it through, so with a little grit and determination I’ll hopefully push through this one too.

As long as I have family, friends, music and laughter I can make it through anything 🙂



2. severe and overwhelming shock or grief.

People experience devastation every day. It is something I doubt any of us will escape and it is certainly not something we can prepare for, even though we might think we have.

I knew my Mother was going to die, I’ve heard the banter at funerals, ‘It’s ahead of us all’ they would joke while dipping biscuits into their tea. I just didn’t expect her to die so soon.

My Mother worked hard, she nursed the sick and took care of the elderly all the while tending to her family. She planned for her retirement, saved some money and was diagnosed with Dementia the very next year.

It was a slow progression, unlike some, but as each year passed she started to decline. Speech problems, slow changes in mobility and what I am sure must have been the hardest one for her, the inability to communicate. Only those of us who were close could understand what she was trying to say, and at times even we found it difficult.

We had a rough few years due to behaviour changes. Everything became a fight, but sometimes there were little sparks of the person she was, mixed with a mischievousness as she seemed to regress to her younger years. I am not scared to admit there are many times I wanted the whole nightmare to end, both for her sake and ours.  I thought when the time came I would be ok, that I would feel nothing but relief that this strong, proud little woman would be free of this awful disease.

The decline came quicker than any of us ever expected, the end stages, I believe that is what they are called. A series of events, just one thing after another saw her admitted to hospital and eventually pass away. We were stunned, heartbroken….devastated.

We didn’t miss the person she had become, we longed to remember the person she had once been. It is a weird feeling to be happy for someone yet sad for them at the same time. Devastation brings with it guilt, sorrow and this terrible sense of what if that can overwrite everything that has been been done previously.

Time is a great healer. Things will never be the same, can ever be the same, but after the devastation comes a time of reflection and hopefully somewhere along the line inner peace.


The Journey

I am the woman who stares out the train windows and would rather see the rain than the sunshine. Who revels in the light of the moon as it dances on the water. 

My headphones are not a diversion, I simply like listening to music and losing myself in the rythmn and beats. 

I rarely make eye contact, but I will speak when spoken to. I am not aloof, I am shy. Awkwardly introverted I sometimes struggle with interaction. 

I daydream because oftentimes it is more pleasing than keeping within the confines of reality. 

I smile, simply because it is something I can give for nothing and there is always someone whose day will be worse than mine and will imagine my gesture as a hug.

I am generally unseen. 


Also used for the Daily Prompt