Deepest Regret

We take it all for granted, don't we, life.

A lot of the time our priorities are anything but. We run towards money, prestige, to some extent education and away from enriching experiences, family & love.

It's a weird experience finding out that one of your parents is poorly.

I feel so bad for not reacting more. when asked if I was okay, I replied with a jovial "Yeah, fine." When in reality I was terrified. Listening to words that didn't quite make sense but felt more real than I could have ever imagined.

I really wish I reacted more emotionally, if only to show that I care - of course I do - we're just not like that.

So I stifled the fear I feel, my eyes brimming, and spoke calmly about options and side effects to treatments.

There's still hope, in fact a lot of it, this time in six months it could be like nothing had happened. But I hope that it changes things.

For a start, that we make more of an effort with each other, because one day we just might have run out of time.

Thirty-Two And A Spinster - Part Seven

Freak Of Nature

Oh. Holy. Shit. I have had a nightmare week. 

First, I got into the office on Monday to find that all the work we've done towards the video stuff (scripts, guidelines, research, etc) has gone, poof, disappeared. Six weeks of work - I'm not ashamed to say that I cried.

Then the crazy guy from my post Thirty-Two And A Spinster - Part Five, has ramped up the volume on the psycho notch. I feel like I've ended a relationship and he's trying to convince me otherwise except in this case I HAVE NEVER MET HIM! 

Seriously!

Monday night I received two voicemails and countless 'apologetic but meaningless' texts after I had to block him from sending me whatsapp messages. 

Tuesday morning he called again, from a private number.  

Yesterday he text me again. This experience was starting to freak me out. I replied - why? because this guy needed to be told about himself. His persistence to contact me after I had asked SEVERAL times to stop is the exact reason I blocked him in the first place. He apologised. 

It was over. I went to bed with a sense of closure and slept deeply, peacefully. 

This morning... ready for a new day… he called again, leaving a voicemail, inviting me to his birthday drinks tomorrow night.

"If you decide to come, and you like me, it will make it the best birthday EVER." 

I mean, what the actual f**k? I'm beyond speechless and I'm also really uncomfortable, to the point that I feel irrationally scared. 

I've asked him to stop. 

I've told him to stop. 

Now I'm ignoring him. 

What scares me most is that he doesn't see his behaviour as inappropriate. He feels that if he contacts me enough times, exercising the exact behaviour he is apologising for, I'll be won over.

10 missed calls, 7 voicemails, 573 texts *swoon* I'm yours! - er, nope. I don't know what rule book he's reading from, but in mine, that s**t is CRAZY.  

                                                                                     *because I never did!

Thirty-two And A Spinster - Part Three

Qualification Necessity or Fancy? 

I have a perfectionist streak. I like to know that I actually know what I'm doing before I do it. Regardless of whether I'm cooking or working, I want to feel confident that I'm doing it right. 

And that trait is often a major hindrance for me. 

For my birthday one year, my ex bought me what I thought would be a day of Zumba, and at the time I went once a week religiously and RAVED about it to everyone I could. I love to dance around, it makes me feel free and careless. Anyway, back to the point I was trying to make, it turned out to be an instructors workshop. At the end of it, you had the 'ability' to be a Zumba instructor… you still had to subscribe to their network, get insurance to instruct and a licence to play music that the ZIN (Zumba instructors network) didn't provide you, but you had the essentials to teach a class. 

I loved Zumba. I was good at most of the steps. When I attended a local class for the first time, the instructor asked if I was one! But I was missing one vital thing… confidence to just do it. I felt I wasn't ready. I made excuses like "I need to be better at Salsa" or said things like "Who would want to pay someone to teach a class, when they're no better than anyone attending?". In the end, a year passed and my certificate became void. 

So I'm sitting here now thinking about what I want to do with my life; not in the big sense because I know, but I'm talking about my next step and I'm contemplating whether I should do a qualification. 

I want to design learning programmes, both face-to-face and online but something inside me, that annoying trait, is telling me that I'll never be sure that I can do it without 15 months of study and a certificate telling me I can… 

So what do I do? 

One of my best friends forward me an article about everything I'm feeling right now. It spoke about finding the courage to rise above your fear - you can find more about this here - but I'm still hesitating... problem is, the fear just feels too strong :( 

Totes Emosh

So, my sister has had her baby. I'm officially an auntie again, and she looks adorable in the pictures. I've not seen her in the flesh yet.

I've had a cold, then the flu, and am still suffering from cold-like symptoms so I didn't want to go over and infect the poor darling.

But then my counsellor questioned if perhaps I hadn't gone over, not just because I was ill but because everything is still too raw after the termination. Am I worried the walls I've built will crumble as soon my my new born niece is placed in my arms?

I made the right decision - I completely stand by that, but to my surprise when she mentioned it I cried; and it made me realise that I NEVER think about it... EVER.

If it comes up in conversation, I'll discuss it briefly, but I don't let myself feel anything. What is there to feel? It won't change anything, but her question was obviously designed to make me think about how I feel, and my reaction was one of great sadness.

She waited until the tears subsided and then asked me if I was okay. I am, truly, but it's a horrible decision to make and that fact that I had to make it hurts... every day.

I have always wanted to be a mother. Most of my closest friends are now settled in relationships or starting a family and it makes me wonder if I'll ever get the chance. Sounds so dramatic, doesn't it?

But let's put things in context - I'm 32, nearly 2 years single, had 2 flings in the past 6 months and I was on my own for 4 years before I met my ex-boyfriend; someone I thought I could grow old with.

My aunt has always been good with children, she'd make a brilliant mum, but she'd now 45 and cannot conceive. I'm terrified that will be me. I'm only 13 years away.

So yes, I'm sad about what I had to do. Believe it or not, I still keep count of the number of weeks I'd be if I'd made a different choice.

But the one thing I will not do is actively bring a child into the world where I cannot support it. Living with 3 other women in a busy city you don't want to be in and no plan B... I made the right decision.

The counselling has raised a number of things that seems to influence my behaviour or thoughts, my colour is one of them, or at least how I think men I am attracted to perceive me and my colour. It ties in with how I identify myself, my personality, my style.

How I protect myself from being let down by others is another strong theme in our conversations too. Does this relate to my current relationship with my mother or why it's taken so long to get over my last relationship?

No matter how emotional I find all of this, it's interesting to open Pandora's box and have a look inside.

It's scary too because you just don't know what will jump out at you but I feel like each time I take something out to have a closer look at it, when I carefully place it back inside, I'm a little stronger than before.

Changes I've been going through

I started this post over a week ago when I was still sunning myself on holiday but for whatever reason I didn't finish. So here goes...

I thought lying by the pool on a beautiful island like Barbados would help me get over a boat load of issues I've been carrying with me but it seems the Caribbean sun just brings them to the surface.

A few months ago I met someone new. He had left the country and we'd not spoken for weeks, I felt it was time to stop kidding myself about things 'finding their way', get off my ass and start dating. So I met this guy through a friend. He was lovely. We had easy banter and after a couple of weeks chatting we decided to meet up. A few dates later I let myself stay over at his. 

Everyone's schedule gets busy but after a couple of failed attempts to meet up afterwards, the calls and messages stopped. I was so busy with work and social activities, looking forward to my holiday, I wasn't really that fussed and it dawned on me that I perhaps didn't like him as much as I thought. C'est la vie.

I noticed that my mood was swaying between exhausted and irritable. I lost all motivation to go to the gym (not that hard as we all know) but even coming home to the girls, I just wanted to head straight to my room. My body was betraying me too and I put it down to stress. There was something very wrong. 

I left it for a week before I spoke to my housemates about it. As you may know from previous posts, I've battled with depression before, and I was worried that my behaviour was displaying it's return. 

But one morning I woke up and had a thought. I didn't believe I was, I mean how could I be? I slept with him once, it lasted 2 seconds because we were so drunk and more importantly we used protection. The facts were: my period was late, my boobs were swollen and hurt, I'd lost my appetite.

I cried so hard when I saw the test result. I convinced myself that it was a mistake and went to the doctor the very next day. I fell to the floor when she confirmed it. 

I'm in love with someone who doesn't want me. I venture out into the world again in an effort to move on and the FIRST person... 

18 days ago, 9th October, I had a pregnancy termination. 

Even putting that down in black and white I can't believe it. 

I did it at home, where two of my housemates took care of me. Both my mum and my sister (who is pregnant by the way) knew what I was going through but it was two people I'd know less than a year who held my hand, wiped the tears from my face and nursed me as I writhed on the sofa in agony. 

I cannot begin to explain what it's like to feel your body reject a life and release it or the emotional trauma you go through. By the next day I was back at my desk completing the last few tasks before my holiday. Yes they said it would be fine to travel. Yes I would most probably bleed for a few days more but I should be perfectly capable of enjoying my trip.

Even as we arrived on the Sunday, I knew I wasn't back to my normal health. I was still experiencing an odd cramping feeling occasionally, which made it hard to sit comfortably. But I found myself, 4 days in, sweat dripping from my head, clutching my body, screaming out because I'm in so much pain. 

The flight had aggravated my cervix, which caused it to become inflamed. I was rushed to a private clinic and put on a drip as I waited for the ambulance. I don't remember much else about that night until I come round in the labour ward, side effects of the pain-killers worn off and I'm having a scan. I'm lucky because I got to go home that night with a prescription of antibiotics.

The flight home undid some of the medication's hard work, I was sick as soon as I got off the plane but I didn't wait around to seek help. As soon as I got back to my London flat, I made a doctors appointment for that day. 

I'm feeling much better. The medication I'm on now does make me feel drowsy, I have unsettling dreams, I'm still off my food so I look a bit scrawny but like I said, I'm feeling much better. 

Why am I bearing my soul to the world? 

Because I need to get it out. 

I'm angry that the only contact my mum has made since I last saw her on the 28th September was a shit text about her greying hair this morning, to which I've not replied. 

I'm angry that I wasn't made aware of the dangers flying could have and that I didn't get antibiotics straight away. 

I'm angry that it affected my holiday and that when I was in the throes of pain, I was silently praying he'd get in contact with me. 

I'm angry that I found myself in that situation in the first place. 

And I'm sad that I feel so alone. That despite speaking to so many people about it, it never feels over. 

I'm sad that the people I love and want to be loved by keep me at arms length. 

I'm sad that I feel I need their love at all; that the love I have for myself isn't enough.

Then I'm really scared. I'm scared that it's ruined me. My chances of love, of being a mother one day.

These are the thoughts that have kept me awake at night, that cause the tears I cry when I'm alone. This is the pain, the disappointment and the shame I feel. These are the changes I've been going through. 

"You never know how strong you are, until being strong is your only choice" 

Bob Marley

 

Ready For The Road

Do you ever say you'll do something with someone and then find yourself regretting it?

I'm asking myself this question right now as I stare at the costume I'm supposed to be wearing to the Notting Hill Carnival on Monday.

I'm not in the best shape and yet I have signed up to an event where I'm expected to wear next to nothing and I only have myself to blame.

I got home and unpacked the lime green back pack I've paid for... 

Short ass shorts - CHECK

Unflattering boob tube - CHECK

Respectable over top with jewels - CHECK 

Condom - CHECK, wait what? A condom?! WTF are they expecting me to get up to on the streets of Ladbroke Grove? 

The worst thing? I have always thought I had a decent butt. However these shorts have shown me the error of my ways. I must get it from my mum ;) 

So if you're hitting the carnival this weekend, look out for the flat-arsed blue vision with tons of drunken courage! 

Sneaky peek ... 

OMG am I freaking mental?!

It's official. I have now been signed up to do Tough Mudder.

Why oh why do I convince myself that these events are fun? Luckily I've got until August to train for it but seriously?!

We've put together a team of 11. Three are general fitness freaks, one is in training for a marathon, one has already completed a marathon, three more whom are in pretty decent shape already and then there's the girls ha ha ha. What are we thinking?

Still, it's great to have something to work towards. The videos available on their site and on youtube give us an idea of the type of fitness level we need to reach in order to, at the very least, survive. It's doable...

There's already talk of group training sessions when it starts to get lighter and gym techniques that could help us prepare - 7 months to go!

Is it weird that I'm kind of excited?

YEAH!

The challenge

Where do you start? 

It's uncharted territory

At least for you

You do not know the way forward

What awaits you in the fog of the unknown?

It's literally one foot in front of the other

Hands stretched out in front of you

Hoping you can pre-empt bumps in the road

Eyes adjusting to the new light

You stumble and you fall

Wishing you could turn back

You don't want to show weakness

But you don't want to fail

When will it all become clearer? 

When will you feel more comfortable along this path? 

This challenge that you have been presented

There is no choice

You have no rights

So you keep on stepping… 

(thoughts and feelings inspired by 3.16am - Jhene Aiko - listen don't watch)

What's stopping you?!

Am I waiting for things to get better instead of just making them happen?

Because:
I'm unsure of what I want
I'm scared
I still want what I once had

So many reasons, barriers, excuses and all of them feel valid at the time said.

But then I think, a year ago I really struggled to run for 5 minutes consistently. I wanted to be better so I tried a little bit harder every time. Now I can run, comfortably, for just over an hour and I'm aiming for a half marathon next year.

It's all about taking baby steps. That's why I'm not pushing myself to feel 100% normal, 100% of the time.

I need to figure out what is really bothering me, what areas of my life I can improve and how?

Tonight I'm off out to see some fireworks with a friend. It's not going to be a late one so I should get home in good time to take a look at this: 

It's a wheel of life. 

If I can chart where I feel I am in each area NOW to identify what areas I'd like to improve and then jog down some action points to make them better, with a deadline - because every goal needs a deadline, perhaps I will stop feeling so listless in this immense period of change?! 

Will report back :D 

What makes you happy?!

For me it's

Love 

I loved someone once before, when I was young. What we had to start with was magical. 

When we were apart, I was so excited to see him again, I cried when we had to say goodbye, I drove 2.5 hours to spend the night in his arms and then left at the crack of dawn to make it back in time for work. 

We decided to live together after 3 months of being a couple - we'd known each other already for 6 years. Two and a half years later, he left for San Fran to chase his dreams and I stayed behind trying to find mine. 

I loved him as best I knew how but times were not always great. We hurt each other through our words, I expected a lot from him and in turn he urged me to be a more ambitious person, eventually he fell out of love with me.

It took a long time for my heart to heal after that and I found myself drawn to someone completely different. He made me laugh and opened me up again. I started to think about a future with someone again, wanted to support someone emotionally, to feel trusted and intimate. 

However, he wasn't quite ready for that. At least, not with me. Yeah, that hurt but I was quite thankful to him for it because it just proved that I could and would love again. 

After that, I stopped looking for love. I needed a break from it to allow my wounded heart to mend. But it wasn't long before I started seeing someone. 

He was lovely. Nothing like the first, and absolutely nothing like the second. We had a laugh, there was obviously chemistry between us, he was easy to talk to and he made it clear that he felt the same ease around me. We were happy just being 'friends'. 

Before I knew it, I started to really like him. I wanted to spend more time with him, share more of myself with him - after 3 months I confessed to my bestie (best friend) I wanted more from him - but I fought it a little while longer because I wasn't sure I was emotionally ready to try again. 

Eventually I told him what I wanted, a boyfriend - eek, and he wasn't keen. Ha ha. Like me, he wasn't sure he was ready. I wasn't upset, a little disappointed I guess but you can't help how you feel. I thought that was it but he still wanted to see me so we agreed to just take it a day at a time. 

Six hundred and ninety days later, we've lived together for fifteen months and are still going strong. He makes me a better person. I love being in his company and he has me in frequent fits of laughter. Even when he's 10,263 miles away, he still manages to make me smile. 

But you don't have to be in love to be happy. This is just what makes me happy today. Most other days, it's chocolate ;) 

WHOOP! HAPPY FRIDAY PEOPLE

Losing My Grip

I'm not actually sure what I'm doing any more.

I've never had a complete handle on how I hoped life would turn out, I don't have a five year plan - I don't have a six month plan! I've been feeling really lost and confused, about everything, recently and I think I've just done something without thinking about it which means that I'm now absolutely numb and a little bit bloody scared.

Have you ever just wanted to pack up everything and leave, not really knowing where you're going or how things are going to pan out? I want to do this right now. But then I think about the commitments I've made to people, my measly but very real debt, and my family (who I'd miss terribly) and I ignore this burning and ever more frequent desire to, let's face it, run away.

I was once told that I'm an extremist. I don't do well sitting in the middle, I either react or I don't. I'm reacting today. I just told my housemates I want to move out, asked my mum if I could move in, I'm ending things with a guy I really like because he's too young for me to take him seriously long-term - I'm exhausted!