What We Leave Behind

It’s the first properly cold day of the season, and I am reminded of a moment that had, for many years, been previously lost in a haze of a past that was often uncertain. There’s been a lot of that of late, recollections of things that had been forgotten, buried under what can now be identified as historical trauma. Sometimes it’s TV shows or snatches of a song that was lost under stress. Very rarely is it stuff about being a kid.

Maybe that’s why I end up playing out so much of my adult life with wonder.

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Tomorrow I’m going to go try and have a chat with the management of my health club about the mental health consequences of their policies, amongst other things. The club, as a rule, is only really interested in what it’s done well, or what it needs to fix on a cosmetic level. Actual discussions over ethics and consequence don’t really seem to be registered or indeed acted upon. I do not hold out much hope.

However, as has been previously stated, I have to try. I was not given a choice, mental health issues are what they are. There is a choice therefore: accept your shortcomings, work on your strengths, and for all the time in between find a way to use rational debate and common sense to explain yourself. Tomorrow, we’ll see if that path will provide salvation or not.

It is only recently that having control of my existence has become really important. I am a realist, when all is said and done: sometimes, stuff is just best left alone. However, as is becoming apparent as more of the past emerges to challenge me over my actions and motives, not everything benefits from remaining where it is. A lot of that stuff should be thrown away, or removed with a sense of purpose.

As the world alters, inevitably you do with it. It’s apparent those people for whom this is not an option, or who believe that there is nothing to be gained from even trying. They are, inevitably, perfect as they are. I’m really, REALLY glad that will never be an issue I’ll need to struggle with. As a perennial work in progress, may there never be a day when it’s okay to let arrogance supercede a sense of proportion.

There is just so much that needs work and improvement.

Mad as Hell

No, this isn’t an exercise rant, they are now consigned to Saturdays only. Today isn’t a rant at all, if truth be told. It’s just a quiet, inescapable realisation that enough is no longer that. It’s a fight this one, and has been for quite some time, between those who are kind and quite obviously well-meaning, and those people who are fed up with being told that stuff cannot be done.

If you want me to ‘just be me’ then that’s not acceptable as improvement.

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Me is inherently lazy, and always has been. Me was scared and frightened for decades and unable to work out the true reasons for that until other people finally got through to me and staged what was a much-needed intervention. Most importantly, me was selfish often beyond belief. All those negative qualities still remain, removed from my main being with a combination of brute force and exercise.

I get the whole ‘you are enough’ mentality and on days when everything that’s been well planned and organised to keep me sane won’t work together or becomes hindrance to the journey, sometimes it helps to be reminded. Beating myself up over a lack of achievement can be done in many ways, and not all of them need to end up as counter-productive. In the end, there’s not enough time to be a dick any more.

Speaking as someone who can still do that, seriously, it’s not worth the effort.

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Everybody is special, and unique and beautiful. No really, I’m serious here, and if you end up deciding that everyone is selling snake oil, delusion becomes very real indeed. Not dicking on their lives is really important: if you do, you’d better be really very prepared to defend any position. Being enough is okay when you’re a saint, but if there’s room for improvement? Should that fact be realised or not?

That’s not your choice to make, except so many of us feel it is. 49% of my country keeps trying to dick on the other 51% whilst the majority seems to have totally forgotten that not only does a minority exist, but it deserves a voice too. There are villains in every story, many not as obvious as others. In the midst of all this chaos, it’s hard mentally to keep yourself afloat, and yet now, for the first time in three years, I can cope.

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Reinventing yourself on a weekly basis is fucking hard work but here I am, changing my physical appearance whilst beating my mind into shape as we go. The man above’s favourite hobby, apparently, is resurrection. As I don’t get the opportunity to come back from the dead, staying alive is what matters, and doing it well. That means, every single damn day, however tired I am, there has to be some forward momentum.

Today, this is it.

The Fix

The poem began on the day I forced myself out of the house and into the countryside (such as it exists here) and that really proves the point that sometimes, external stimulation kick starts writing ability. I ended up with an opening line but no more: this morning after a night full of dreams where getting lost would finally provide inspiration to find the path back to my destination, ending became beautifully obvious.

My subconscious when all is said and done can be very easily read.

There’s two poems for this submission: after going to see the eldest at Uni and having a birthday meal (he turns nineteen this week) they’ll both be finally looked over and then sent. Next week is the re-write of an existing poetry collection for submission again. With the changes to style, content and approach that have taken place over the summer, I suspect little may remain of what is started with. We shall see.


I have a confession to make. I watch very little TV these days. It is therefore a bit of a stunner to have a bunch of things approaching that will be consumed, rather voraciously, leading up until Christmas. The BBC’s adaptation of His Dark Materials begins in early November. Tonight, the first proper TV adaptation of H.G.Wells’ War of the Worlds is on BBC1. In anticipation of this, last night, Netflix got fired up, and a new documentary series was begun.

This series is pretty much made for someone like me, and the opening episode did not disappoint. I’ll review it properly once all the content has been consumed, as the range of designers covers a fairly eclectic definition of the word. Let’s hope that the BBC does not shonk Wells’ original vision, and that the good vibes over their adaptation of Pullman’s work with all the contentious stuff left in really is as good as the trailers suggest.

At least it gives me summat to write about in the week :D

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I have a domestic issue to deal with today, which is not as stressful as it might have been. I walked to a Saturday PT this morning in glorious weather. Let it stay this way for a while now, because there’s so much productivity when it does…

The last week, emotionally has been brutal, but has taught an important lesson. I don’t have nearly enough things to fall back on when life gets tough. Once upon a time there was a vibrant social life, large group of real life friends and nothing really seemed that bad. I’ve been isolated here for a while now, with only a couple of friends within easy reach. Trying to engage with new people has proved a tough ask. Some individuals I though I knew better have proved to be, quite frankly, a waste of time.

How does anything change for the better?

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It just changes. You’re patient, and don’t get stressed. There are other things to find joy in than that very short list you had to write out. Taking a chance on yourself is worth the effort, and may deliver surprising rewards. Most importantly of all for me however is preserving the routine that maintains sanity: daily writing, exercise, photography plus the occasional dirty treat. Today is a high-end Easter egg that was brought home by my husband from work. BOY was that wonderful with a cuppa.

Also, I need to return to meditation. It’s been a while since I did things seriously, and the benefits it brings to both mind and body are considerable. Lifting heavy shit is great and everything, but nothing beats a moment of pure and total zen, and they have happened. It’s a tough ask some days, but if the right moments can be picked… it has to be worth a try. As I set up the calendars for next month, it will be included on the lists.

For now however, there are practical tasks to be addressed.

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Day One of ‘editing my novel that will become a novella’ for two hours each morning went incredibly well. I’ve also inserted PT and a run into the equation, which means other stuff gets written a bit later than normal. It feels comfortable, and eminently doable for the next month. Of course, there isn’t anything else as yet inserted into the schedule on top, so you know… there’s plenty of potential for disaster.


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I was going to write a long, painful and largely pointless treatise today on other people’s drama. Honestly, there is no point in even going there, when everything else that is wrong with the World gets dragged into equal consideration. The easiest thing is just to mute and/or block and just carry on regardless, because I don’t need to see this.

It is clear why drama happens. It makes perfect sense when you grasp how complex the relationships are between people online. However, if there comes a moment when pointing out someone’s fucking stupidity becomes nothing more than petty name-calling or angry recrimination, it is time to go do summat else.

Similarly, if you’re having tremendous difficulty with your lifestyle, knowing when to share and when to shut up is, without doubt, the best lesson you will ever learn.


I promise to be more interesting as the week goes on, but for now this is full-on Organisation Mode…

Think

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I wasn’t going to write until Monday, but as is often the case circumstances had other ideas.


For a long time, I’d been fairly desperate for reassurance: confirmation that what I said and did had some, any kind of relevance. This peaked about eighteen months ago when it was necessary to have a daily affirmation that yes, I mattered. Twitter was a great means by which that could be served and an obsession with followers and numbers became, at times, potentially self-destructive. I’ve always flirted a thin line with obsessive behaviour via the Internet. It’s the cheapest and easiest drug to become addicted to.

What broke this dependence was the actions of one person. They crossed a line which I’d drawn without realising, and recalled a time when I did some pretty stupid shit in order to feel as if I mattered. Over time, and with the unconditional love of tiny humans, emerged the true understanding of what I was and how that ought to translate to decent human behaviour. So, when that person was dumb, it was time to walk away. When they left Twitter, my assumptions over their actions was pretty much confirmed.

Except, they came back. On reflection, it shouldn’t have been a surprise, as they’d left several times before, and when I followed them back without being acknowledged, their actions continued to justify my feelings. Except, it transpires from having read third party conversations, I was the problem. That’s when it finally hit home. You cannot expect other people to do anything except look after themselves. The ones that really care don’t act like fucking morons. They’re not toxic. Leave those people alone. Stop gravitating towards people who hurt you.

Look for the good people and stick with them.

I unfollowed someone this week as I watched them thank people for birthday wishes, politely and dutifully scrolling through their list, except no, not me. I’ve had enough with the people who feel I’m a suppressed passive aggressive needy fucker, this is not about pointing and going ‘what about me?’ This is accepting this person wanted me in their Followers to keep up the numbers but now has me on mute. It’s really not hard to accept this most modern of rebuttals, but honestly I don’t want to be where people won’t respect and listen. So, we no longer follow each other.

If they notice and apologise, I’ll be fucking staggered.

There is no time left to fuck about with this stuff, there is a planet to save, and if your only contribution towards being better people is to do nothing or hope someone else deals with the difficult problems I do not need you in my life any more.