What do you do when...

...you just lose interest in life..?

haven't wanted to write
haven't wanted to blog
haven't wanted to photograph
haven't wanted to participate

This month has been... awful


I have lost myself.


Today's song: Sia, 'Breathe Me'

Nourishment

I found this piece in my 'unpublished' draft list..

Struggling

I'm struggling to eat at the moment. My current diet consists of:

Coffee
Lucozade
Cheese
Pitta bread
Crisps

Not enough and not very healthy.

I do love food: I'm a true foodie. But my spirit is low, and with it my tastebuds have become dormant.

I'm not unhappy as such. In so many countless and wonderful ways I'm happier now than I've ever been. But I've just entered the 5th year of this illness. And that's got me.

So I'm blue. And I've lost my appetite. The gnawing of my hunger happily manifests the gnawing of my spirit.

I think I need to grieve. Recognise my losses. But I do have hope. And I do know that this too shall pass...


...And it is indeed passing, though I can't say my eating habits have improved much - It's such a paradox.. to eat healthily you need energy to go out, buy the ingredients, cook them, and eat them... but with no energy... it's peanut butter on toast .. but it is indeed passing.. and things are indeed getting better..


Today's favourite song: Black Kids, 'Hurricane Jane'

Sisters

With hindsight, I am lucky to have grown up with three sisters. At the time I was most unhappy about it, too aware of the lack of space, the niggling and fighting, the jostling for attention. As an adult, I am gratefully aware it, grateful for the many nights spent in conversation, the comforting arms around me in times of trouble and laughing, lots of laughing.

We comprised: big sis, momma sis, myself (dreamy sis) and baby sis. Big sis’ moniker was not a reference to her size, but rather her age. Momma sis received her name long, long before she became an actual momma, due to her the momma-like tendencies she had been born with. Baby sis was (unsurprisingly) the youngest and I, dreamy sis, was called so due to a love of being forever mentally absent (though physically present).

Big sis was considerably older than the rest of us, and was thus viewed with a mixture of unadulterated adoration and awe – she was our Goddess. She existed on a pedestal, and has done ever since. At an age where make-up and boys was a world undiscovered, she would horrify me with tales of a future – my future – that would involve boyfriends and marriage. Aghast, I would argue that my beloved red BMX and climbing trees were all that mattered to me, thank you very much.

Big sis left us just as we were approaching adolescence and life was getting more interesting. She disappeared at an age where I didn't realise that people, certainly not those I loved so intensely, actually died. For the three of us that remained, our childhood innocence also died that day.

We were now three sisters, and rather than cling to each other in the madness that followed, we each clung to our own individual rafts to survive: the pain in each others' eyes was too much to witness and our individual memories of her, much too precious to share, were jealously guarded. The fact that we were simultaneously limping into adolescence with its requisite moodiness and confusion only served to emphasize our separation. We drifted apart on those turbulent seas and only drifted back to each other once adulthood had begun to show its face.

Momma sis has never shed her moniker and, I suspect, never will; actual motherhood has only strengthened the endearing ways in which she continues to mother baby sis and I. As the second oldest she heaved the mantle of 'big' sis onto her small shoulders and tried to lead us towards the light and resurrection from grief; though she herself was blind. Taking on the responsibility was not an easy option – her younger siblings looked to her more and more for a replacement of the 'Goddess' they had lost. She struggled, but ultimately succeeded, and perhaps it was ever meant to be so.

The departure of big sis fell hardest on baby sis. They were not on speaking terms at the time, and the chance to repair the bridge of misunderstanding between them (for that was all it was) was lost forever. Regardless of the comforting words from her remaining sisters, she needed to re build the bridge herself single-handedly. It took many years and her courage in finding her own peace at the tragic timing of events was, and still is, an awesome feat.

Now, as remaining sisters all 'growed-up', I truly recognise the blessings of my sisters' presence and pour gratitude upon it (this, despite the niggling and fighting that has never quite managed to leave us). Though her presence is now ethereal, big sis is still very much the first sister in our quadrangle. Though I don't really know what the afterlife has planned for us, I look forward to the day where we are four once again.



Today's favourite song: Mike Oldfield, 'Crime of Passion'

Dumped

I have been well and truly dumped.

Dumped that is, by my best friend.

I do understand why (he has found his soul mate). I do understand that things are a little more complicated (we are exes). But for a year after we broke up he was still my best buddy. I told him everything, he told me, we hung out every week, we talked lots, laughed lots, and when he disappeared he did so overnight...

I'm having trouble adjusting.

Maybe, maybe, we really only half broke up for a year, and this is the proper break up.... which is why it's hurting so. Maybe I just miss my best friend. Maybe, as a wise woman told me, soul mate can't appear whilst I'm still best buddies with someone else (particularly a male, particularly an ex). Time will let me know.

Long drawn out sigh...

Just another stitch in life's big ol' rich tapestry...

Today's favourite song: REM, 'Day Tripper'

Dark night of the body

Sometimes I'm so close I can almost touch it, that elusive beast 'normality'. That simple little pot of gold at the end of the rainbow... everyday normal health.

But I've overdone it again. I spent too much time talking to a friend, too much time holding my niece, I drove that extra mile in my car..

And I am stopped in my tracks, pain and illness gearing up for their assault.

The fevers appear, cold flannels on my head. The pain surges, out come the pain killers. Insomnia descends, church bells checking the early hours. Energy disappears...

The episodes are getting less frequent, they are lasting for shorter periods, and yet as close as I am to the finish line, I have never felt closer to giving up. I-just-can't-do-this-anymore. I want to cry and cry and cry and rage against the pseudo-dying of my body. And suffer, how I suffer. How I want to be saved from this.

So I wait. I wait however many days it takes to subside. Patience... I need to be patient.

And slowly, surely, the attack ends. I get up again and peek my head back into the world; energy temporarily restored; wondering when the next time will be; hoping there won't be a next time. How I marvel at the sunshine, the opportunities that lie outside my front door. I step outside and embrace life again knowing just how lucky I am to get it back.

And I know that one day, I know, that I will emerge for good, seize the world with both hands and never look back...

Lucky, lucky me xxx

Today's favourite song: Cut Copy 'Lights and Music'

Grief

If I were the Editor of the Oxford English Dictionary.

grief.

1. A very necessary tool to navigate loss

2. An immense journey through the spectrum of emotion

3. A physical, mental, emotional and spiritual (searing) experience of pain

Being not at my best physically, I find myself more vulnerable to the darker side of life; the darker side of emotions. And today's emotion is grief.

No-one has died (I know this grief), I am not grieving for the loss of myself (this has been done) I am not grieving the loss of a friend (he is very much still here). I am grieving the loss of: MNO. My Number One.

My Number One; your Number One, is invariably, though not exclusively, your partner. Your staunchest defender, your greatest ally, the one who believes in you the most, the one who supports and loves you the most. I chose to lose him as my partner (I was the one to break up the relationship) but still for almost a year afterwards he was still MNO and I his, thus I continued to thrive despite the end of the relationship. Now, he has met his soul mate, his forever partner, and I, the ex partner, am displaced, no longer HNO.

I am not begrudging of his happiness (within the complexity that emotions are, I am grieving for myself whilst also truly cherishing his joy). But, I cannot (and will not) deny the pain I feel at the loss of that which translates as unparalleled support, defence, generosity and love. I feel so alone without it. I feel frightened without it. I feel weaker without it.

However, I am not drowning. Because:

I know two things a) this is time for me to become my own staunchest defender, supporter, lover and ally and b) when my soul mate appears I will again nestle in the love and arms of MNO, so this loss is temporary.

Therefore l declare myself a phoenix in the process of rising from the ashes. A phoenix because I will not allow this grief to be hidden nor unacknowledged but will experience it, blog it (;-)) and emerge from it.

Today's favourite song: Bat for Lashes 'What's A Girl To Do?'