Yesterday I spent an hour being completely me. A connection with someone who on the surface looks nothing like me. White woman and Muslim man. And yet in that moment I felt more me than I have in weeks. In all those apparently surface differences we could not have been any more similar. The same humans. Like identical twins. It was the fastest hour ever. Both holding back the people we are behind the duties and difficulties of life. And yet hidden behind that were people who looked at everything in exactly the same way. Relate… In every possible way. It was the strangest feeling to be everything I am, the parts that I am trying to push down in the real world, but in that safe enclosed space was totally ok. And was required to make it ok for him too.
Just for that moment, until we both walked back into our lives and continued to perform in our shows.
There is real and then there is real. To touch it for a moment was something very special.
My life is so hidden right now. Other than a couple of people, who know a little, to everyone else, including my mum, I am still living the same life as I have for the last couple of years. I am hiding everything. I don’t want to tell a soul. Do I have to? Can I hide it forever? I would like to.
If I have to perform can I do it without anyone knowing. In secret and invisibly.
I know I can’t forever. Sometimes I wish I could disappear with my girl where no one could find us. Cut all ties to anything that came before as though nothing came before. Like someone who is on the witness protection programme. With a brand new identity. Starting again from scratch where no one knows me and I can create something brand new.
Perhaps I am doing that. Creating a new person who can function within a world where the real me just doesn’t cut it. Pushing away all those that know or have seen glimpses of what that looks like and not wanting to disappoint in being a much lesser version. Or am I being more. I don’t even know anymore. I certainly am trying to be.
But be in no doubt.. buried deep down within me there is so much love and care for those I run away from. In those moments where they rise to the surface I have to choke them back, feeling the sting in my eyes and breathing deeply in order to push them down a little further. Into the abyss where they can’t rise up and remind me.
My heart is a funny thing. I can tell it not to feel or care, I can shout at it to let me live in peace and be what I need to be.. but it doesn’t listen to me. Ever!!! It quietly rebels and tries to rattle my cage. But I am locked in tight and the more it rattles, the more padlocks I add to that cage. I can’t control my heart but it tries to control me and the only way to beat it, is to hide away even further from it, so it can’t find me.
Thankyou for taking care of it till I am ready!
You are right my dear sweet friend. It feels impossible for me to even come close to touching those things right now.
To even get slightly close to them hurts me way more than they help.
To even feel them for a moment feels more painful than I can possibly describe.
Reminders everywhere of who I was and could be. Of what those things were.
It feels easier to walk in the world and see, hear and feel nothing. To try and numb every part of myself that played its part in taking people I truly care about
to this point in time.
Right now I despise those things in myself.
As many times as I try and tell myself that I am not wholly responsible, It’s not all of my making, I started the wheel turning and so I feel like I am responsible for it all… and therefore responsible for fixing it. I need to fix the mess made from trying to be more.
By being someone else. Someone better. Only I don’t know how to be that someone. I don’t even know who she is. She is like a stranger.
And yet this morning as I write this back to you I play this tune. Pink flamingos. You sent me them once, do you remember. I remember everything.. and now you offer to hold everything I was till A time might come when I am ready to take them back.
To be held safely by someone I trust, with a distant thought that perhaps they are not completely lost. Thankyou! That means the world to me ❤️
Today I hit my lowest point for me. Picking up the baton of cynical.
Nothing wrong with cynical. Many people very happily are. But not me.
On Saturday the greatest story of love ever written was cheapened for me at the end with lady gaga’s bad romance. It made people laugh. Just a tongue in cheek joke but I guess I just wasn’t in that place. I wasn’t allowed to feel the tragic beauty of what I had felt. Instead I was left feeling stupid for understanding what drove them.
You must be some kind of crazy nutcase to feel such a deep sadness made from love.
Another cynical nail to make me feel ridiculous and less. Like there is something wrong with me for feeling like I do.
Tagged with an unhealthy label in not being more careful and reserved and measured and restrained. You can love toooo much.
Perhaps too much for those who don’t have the ability. It’s like being Usain Bolt and racing amateurs. They will complain that he’s too fast because they just can’t keep up.
Being able to show and feel love is an amazing gift that I don’t want to live without.
I have the opportunity of a lifetime to show what My heart is made of.
It’s ok to feel hurt. It’s ok to put my head down and think I can’t keep going in all these challenges.
But something is beating a drum to tell me I can. Maybe I just need to make my own luck.
So I bought some good karma cards for £1.50.
100 cards to pick at random. 1 per week.
First card picked randomly by my girl.. rally for a good cause … as I was thinking about what that might be I saw an advert for a new car to drive. As butterflies flew in unison to create it with the theory of everything playing in the background… the strapline was “the beauty of change begins”.
I knew it was a sign.
Rally I will!!!! And I know exactly how.
Fighting the magic
By the time I tiredly fell into bed I had been through the rigmarole of explaining the everly increasing desperation in delays in receiving the cure to financial survival. How much longer can we survive before we have exhausted every bridge that keeps us in the game. These things take time. Time we don’t have on our side. I think B hears the desperation in my voice every day as she pushes on to resolve with me. We are getting there she says.
I think what she wants to say is
“Keep swimming. Just stay afloat”
My thoughts of rallying vanished in favour of surviving. Maybe tomorrow.
As I walked home through the underground my phone started playing a tune I’m my ears. I don’t know it. It wasn’t on my playlist. Never heard of it.
The kind of song that would have had me written all over it. Like being in magic. Twirling on a music box.
I didn’t switch it off. I could hear it but I fought with it. Stop trying to make me feel like there is magic helping me. I don’t Want to believe anymore LEAVE ME ALONE!!!.
Cant you just let me live an invisible life. Where I don’t connect with anything or anyone.
And yet on it played.
I think I have become one of those people I used to smile at. The ones that look sad and vacant and lost on the tube. Going through the motions..
A sweet woman with a head scarf and pretty eyes sitting opposite smiled at me in that way that said “don’t be sad”.
I’m trying!!!! I smiled back in that half hearted way that only had the energy to politely reciprocate.
Another day trying to chatter happily as though I mean it. To laugh along with the little jokes and look enthusiastic in what I’m doing. All fake. Motions of being what is required. It’s just easier that way. But I can’t escape from what sits underneath. It holds on to me in a way that is hard to pull free from.
Trying to lift myself with bright happy tunes or think happy thoughts but none of them connecting with me on any level that makes a difference. I can pretend to the world, I could write and tell you that I’m feeling better and pushing through it but I can’t pretend to myself. I know. Battling something that I’m losing.
Like having everything that makes you who you are ripped out of you like a worthless piece of crap, crushed and then thrown back for you to take a look at.
Knowing that right now I’m as fake as it comes. The mean girl was right when she said “I don’t believe it”.Not then but she would be on the money right now. Her little boot was only one of those little boots who didn’t care who I might be and how they might hurt me. Just insignificant nothing comments that are long forgotten by them but are part of the bigger monster that is able to tell me what a nothing I am.
Constantly struggling to hold back the tears when thinking about how easily disposable I am whilst others prosper and surge forward in their happiness.
Hearing their little voices in my head supporting the bully inside me who uses their meanness as examples of not being enough.
Follow you heart, believe in the magic, love is what makes this world turn. Only I’ve stopped believing in any of it.
Magic .. There is no such thing. A crazy notion from a naive and open hearted girl who learnt the hard way.
As I see others laugh and feel happiness in the way I used to before, I feel jealous. I knew how lucky I was in that. I wonder if they do? But somehow it is lost and i don’t know how to get it back.
The carefree and happy girl of yesteryear. Why couldn’t she be content in that instead of looking for more. More was just an illusion.
Hiding a world I had always avoided. The cynical did their work well.
Perhaps without realising I have ending up swapping my heart for theirs.
I guess everyone has a limit to how much they can withstand and bounce back from and I believe I may have reached mine. It’s when you know that in spite of all your good and kind intentions, if it’s not them it must be you.
I love when the sun shines like this at the beginning of my favourite season. It’s hanging on to summer which I’m really so very ready to let go of and moving me towards a new season where my magic lives and feeds me what I need to sparkle inside.
When I create a beautiful world of my own it has such beauty and magnificence that you would be captivated by its wonder.
But it is my place. The place that I visit at the end of a day when the curtains close and I am free to live life in the way I wish to.
I am going to create somewhere so exquisite that I will be lost in it even when the world buzzes around me. To feel free in ones own inner world is the place of childlike dreams. It feels safe and warm and beautiful and where the world stops while I dance.
This morning my girl came home from her party and having to go to work. A couple of hours sleep and a day ahead at the coffee shop. Not a great combo for a 17 year old girl.
She started talking about something, got frustrated with me in my half asleep state and walked out of the room saying “go back to your own house”.
Ouch!!! More than ouch. It made me cry. In all my trying I was given the ultimate in hurtful. I wonder how that has felt to all those people who have been dealt those words “why don’t you go back to where you came from”.
Trying to bring what you are to somewhere that feels unfamiliar and difficult and that wasn’t part of the plan. And trying your hardest to fit in whilst Trying to be yourself and if possible find some happiness within that.
I wonder if all those people who throw those words carelessly because of their frustration and anger in something or someone else, even realise how much they cut the recipients.
It certainly cut me in that bleary eyed moment and my girl saw it.
As she left for work she said sorry and gave me a hug. “I didn’t mean it. That was a horrible thing to say. I’m glad you’re here”.
We are best friends and love each other so much. I told her not to worry and that I knew she didn’t mean it. She said “you’re so forgiving mum”. Nothing ever to forgive with her. It’s unconditional. And later she came home from work with roses. My favourites.
I went for a walk with P when he got back from work. I find it easier when surrounded by trees. They seem to soak up his annoyance and frustration with me.
I walked along thinking I feel so unhappy but I Just can’t say it.
And yet when I got home, I don’t know where it came from or how I found the words but I did. I finally admitted to P how unhappy I am.
How I have found myself in this place of trying to fix something because of a need beyond us.
That if things hadn’t been so desperate on a very basic bread and butter level in trying to save everyone’s security I would not be here.
I didn’t say it in anger or in a way to hurt, I said it because I just could not sustain the pretence of just saying everything is ok.
I am just a human and a very real and honest one at that. And it has been beyond exhausting trying to be everything that is expected of me and more.
I am so unhappy and I just couldn’t hide it anymore.
Surprisingly It was received with calmness. as well as an understanding and acceptance of how reasonable that admission was.
This wasn’t planned or built up to with a beautiful honeymoon period of happiness and love and excitement for a future.
This was crash landing back into Planet Desperation without any warning after having to fight so very hard in surviving and rebuilding a truly difficult period of my life.
2 years in trying to deal with so many trials and hardships and fighting with every bone in my body to survive it, rise from it and begin to make a new life.
I was winning. I wasn’t sitting in perfect. Loneliness, guilt, and fear were all feelings I was struggling with. But I was finding happiness, adventure, magic along the way. And the hope of possibilities.
But happy in my freedom I was definitely feeling.
And then the rug was pulled out from underneath me whilst trying to resolve the financial means to make those possibilities a reality. I think I’ve been in shock for the last few weeks. At first in denial, then an intense sadness and distancing myself from everything that was part of that new life I built. I felt like a failure.
Completely. Everything I had put in just hadn’t been enough to find my way to a future that had seemed hard to reach but possible. And in that failure I felt like nothing. Not worth anything.
Happiness is for others. People who are better.
The ones who aren’t weak and naive and soft. The ones who think with their heads not their hearts.
Stupid stupid dreamy girl!
But in that moment I said it.
“I feel so unhappy. I’m trying so hard to fix this and to help you but in the meantime I am drowning, suffocating and feeling completely trapped.”
I’ve never found that bravery to say it quite so plainly before. I don’t want to hurt people especially ones I care about.
But we are friends. We always were and found our way back to that after about 18 months apart and that had felt nice. He loves me.
His understanding and appreciation of what I am trying to give was felt by me. He got it.
And in him getting it I suddenly felt a heavy weight lifted.
None of this is part of a dream. It is what it is. Real life for those with normal everyday lives, survival in a world where survival of the fittest has a pound note attached and real care that comes from a place of love. Love is something that I know how to bring.
So from having the perfect housemate and her dog I find myself weirdly with the most unlikely and ridiculous of housemates. How the hell does this work? Right now in trying to sort out the reason for this bloody mess. Money. I mean even Chris and Gwyneth would have struggled with this scenario.
One day at a time until we resolve the money.
And there lies the limit of future plans and dreams right now. I literally can’t see anything beyond that at the moment.
Feeling Free is something I value so much. If I feel free I can do anything.
Everything except falling in love.