This November

I had this idea that I need to sell myself and the blog again in a more positive way.

November was my music month, I think you guessed it, but I am not sure if I will keep it up.

I shared a lot. A lot of music, a lot of poetry, and many inner landscapes. My mindset is not the best these days, and it oozes from the pages; and so I was thinking. Should I add more sex? Sex sells, we know that. More pics of me with cleavage and a suggesting look? No. More of my sensual stories and poetry? Maybe. More of something else? Yes. But I don’t know yet.

During these last weeks, a lot has happened, and at the same time, not much has happened.

I found and lost a dear friend. I take much of the blame β€” not all. And we will see, my door is always open. My heart is too.

I was on sick leave for 12 workdays and was not missed. Two colleagues got in touch out of eleven. I expected more; maybe I thought I was more liked at work. I thought I would be missed. Apparently not. I will not lie, that hurt my pride.

I had a lot of time for music, and reading, and watching reruns on TV.

I was tormented with dry needling from my physiotherapist, but in all honesty, he is a nice guy and took (takes) good care of me.

I cancelled a trip to Liverpool in February. Just as well… I suffer from terrible flight panic, and maybe it is best to stay on the ground.

I decided to publish a new poetry collection next year. Probably in the first half of 2020. And I will finish “Heart of Stone” and publish it too. Sometime next year.

I cut back on drinking, and even though I was bored and frustrated, I didn’t stuff the voids with food and alcohol. Yay me.

I learned how well the right painkillers work – and how much they can knock you out.

I slept in almost every morning during my sick leave.

Came to terms with the fact that I might have to change jobs if my shoulder does not get better. It is hard, but I cannot hold on to something that makes me physically sick.

I wrote many posts that I deleted again, because I thought ‘who cares’ and ‘I don’t matter’. Those words still ring in my ears. And I realised that it was a sort of mental abuse. Emotional abuse. And I was a victim of that as a child and teenager too.

There is so much baggage that I am carrying with me, but it is okay. I am used to it. Some days, it gets too heavy and pushes me down, but I am a fighter, a survivor. I made it through many bad moments…

People on Wattpad like my writing, even if it is bad, really bad. Not the poetry, but the novels. Same-sex novels. There are good ideas, but the early work is dreadful, and yet, it has its audience. That’s nice.

Less Facebook and Instagram, more Twitter.

I am selfish. Egocentric. Sometimes I wonder if I am narcissistic.

I am special. That one is true. No matter which way you want to spin it, there are not many people like me on this planet. I could write more, but you don’t need a list of why you should love me. Either you do or you don’t.

I am grateful. No matter how dark or bleak my world is, no matter how many posts I share about it, you are always there. If I knew who you were, I would probably not be free, and I would censor my posts out of fear to hurt this of that person – as I did before. But this blog here is my place. My journal. A diary of sorts. These posts are impulsive and written at the moment. I am very moody, and my moods can change within minutes. That means that one moment, I might feel good and the next like shit. That’s just who I am. And to be honest, it is not easy for me to live with myself, how can it be for anyone else to love me?

Thank you. ❀

Merci. 🧑

Takk. πŸ’›

Diloch yn fawr. πŸ’š

Merci villmols. πŸ’™

Danke. πŸ’œ

Gracias. πŸ–€

Grazie. ❀

Shukriyaa. 🧑

Dank u. πŸ’›

Mahalo. πŸ’š

Spasiba. πŸ’™

Obrigado. πŸ’œ

Kiitos. πŸ–€

Salamat. ❀

Dankie. 🧑

Thank you. πŸ’›

β€πŸ§‘πŸ’›πŸ’šπŸ’™πŸ’œπŸ–€β€πŸ§‘πŸ’›πŸ’šπŸ’™πŸ’œπŸ–€β€

These are just a couple of languages to say Thank You. You might not show that you are here, but I see you, and I feel you.

I am always there. ❀

xx

Cathy

no charity

  • I always give a little something if it says “Pay What You Want.” For music, I often give $1 for each song and 1 on top.
  • sometime in the summer of 2019, I bought a shirt for a total stranger. Just because it felt the right thing to do – it wasn’t charity or pity. I didn’t ask for anything in return, apart that they would pay it forward when they could. We have not been in touch since they received the shirt in the mail, and I have no desire/need/want to be. I am just not a part of their life and I am not a part of theirs.
  • That was not the first time I bought something for a stranger
  • I always have some spare change for buskers (or beggars)
  • If there is the possibility to buy music/merch/books/art from the artist themselves, I do. Cuts the middleman fees and I know that they are paid the price they set. (which is often not nearly enough)
  • Being supportive and kind doesn’t cost a thing.
  • Money doesn’t mean a lot to me. It should though, because I live on a tight monthly budget.
  • And one for the road: I used to buy used books on Amazon for cheap. I like the thought of reading a book that has some kind of history, dog-eared, with thoughts scribbled in the margin or underlinings or highlights. That changed when I bought a book with a bit too much history and suspicious thumbprints and other mysterious brown stains. My OCD got the best of me that day.

β€β˜ΊπŸ’œβ˜Ίβ€β˜ΊπŸ’œβ˜Ίβ€β˜ΊπŸ’œβ˜Ίβ€

Fake it till you break down

The loneliness we feel inside is amplified by not being alone on the outside. Every smile that is fake, makes you break. Just a little bit more. And then some more. Until you crumble to dust and hide in the cracks of your being. Bleeding internally and drowning in the wounds on your soul that keep oozing ugly yellow and green puss. And on the outside, you look composed and put together. And the Oscar for best performance goes to… all of us who keep pretending, all of us who keep being functional day in and day out… to all the strong ones and survivors.

Song of the day (Saturday)

Mallory Knox – Yellow

This is a cover of the Coldplay song for a mental health charity called Calm. They had a project called torch songs.

Usually, a torch song is this:

So, what do you think of this version? Personally, I like it a lot or I wouldn’t have share it. πŸ’œ

Happy Saturday

In need

Gert Taberner – in need

Look at this?! Aren’t you spoiled? Two songs in one day? Well, I think you should listen to this one. It is really good, even though it sounds familiar.

My day: I stayed in bed until noon. Moved to the couch with my book but eventually watched reruns of Little House on the Prairie and ate some oatmeal for lunch. Then I moved to the bathtub, and I soaked there for a long while, watching Friends on Netflix.

I put some effort into my hygiene today; I shaved my legs, lol. Too much information? Yeah, maybe. I also straightened my hair and put on some make-up, not a lot, though. I got dressed in real pants – jeans as opposed to sweatpants, and a cute top. I am wearing my favourite underwear too… Somehow all these little things felt important today. I feel like shit, to be honest. It’s as if I have been defeated, and the darkness claims me right now. I am swallowed, and I am drowning. I am trying to fight and to swim, but I am tired. Too tired. I am not who I was. And all I think I am could be a lie. What if I am not the empathetic and kind person I want to believe I am? What if I am cold and rude? And I just forgot?

The quality of the picture sucks… It’s grainy

IAMX – insomnia

I like the lyrics of this song. Well worth a listen too.

I hope you are well. I wish I could give out hugs from here to there… Not that I want to be touched right now, but is there a better thing than being pulled into a hug so tight that a part of you and the other one become one? The scent of a person you like?

xx

Cathy

Almost noon. Still in bed. I want to pull the duvet over my head again, and stay here for the rest of the day.

song of the day (Friday)

The Smiths – asleep

Depressive song, I know.

Thank you for your (silent) support. Some names pop up daily in my notifications, and I appreciate that a lot.

Last day of my sick leave today. Whiny Cathy should be in the past soon.

On another note, I am almost done with my Christmas shopping. I was very early and very fast this year. But if someone asks what I want for myself? I have no idea; I am not asking for much. There is nothing I need right now. However, I want a new watch – I wrote about that, I want a new journal, but I don’t need those things.

I am content. As long as everyone around me is well, I am fine.

xx

1:17 in the morning

It’s 12:38; I just woke up. I slept for not even an hour. It seems all good things go to waste, and whatever I do, I always do or say the wrong thing. Sounds like a pity party, maybe it is.

I bruise easily. I don’t trust easily. I doubt all the time. And I seldom fall in love. But if I do, I fall head over heels, and I feel it everywhere – in every cell. I don’t open up to people, and usually, I keep them at arm’s length; that way, they can’t hurt me. I don’t trust that anyone can or will understand me or my circumstances. But when someone finds a way under my skin, then I don’t hold back. I am intense and overwhelming. It is hard to keep up with my moods; I know that well. But it is worth it. As arrogant as it may sound, I am a special woman. I am patient, and kind, and gentle, and loyal, and understanding, caring, loving, funny, beautiful, intelligent… (You are allowed to add more if you want…)

These days, I am having some kind of existential crisis.

Happiness comes from within. Just, right now I can’t be happy because I am in so much physical pain. And I am scared that if my shoulder doesn’t improve, I will have to find a new job. But there was never another job for me. So… Right now, I doubt, and I am not happy.

I am scared. I don’t know what to do, and I have been carrying that thought with me for a while now. My whole life, I wanted to be an educator. And most of that time, I wanted to work with babies and toddlers. There was never a plan B. If my shoulder continues to act up, I won’t be able to work in my dream job anymore.

I shared that thought with a friend who always says he wants me to be happy. I explained why I cannot be right now, and he took it as aggressiveness β€” that hurt. I was completely misunderstood. Sure, blame it on the fact that we were texting, but he should know me enough by now to know it it was not meant to be aggressive.

And it makes me tired of people again. It makes me recoil, and I want to hide. It makes me curse at myself for having been open. I want to build a wall around me again, and vanish.

Maybe I am best when I am alone. I mean, I am not often alone because of the kids, kids I mean when I don’t share what’s going on inside me. Isolated.

Stay. Go. Abandoned. Rejected. Misunderstood. But whatever happens, I am always to blame.

I hate it, and hate is an ugly emotion.

Right now, I am angry. And I am disappointed. Disheartened. Sad.

song of the day (Thursday)

Alex Clare – relax my beloved

There was almost no song today. Not that it matters, but it was some kind of challenge I set for myself to share a song everyday for a month.

I am just tired. I guess it has to do with my body healing or something like that. I slept until 11am this morning, and I am tired again.

It is what it is. No physio until next week. Hopefully the pain is gone until then.

Happy Thanksgiving to my American friends.

xx

Cathy