cosmicgirlie

spouting all the crap you never say out loud.

Thoughts

“IT’S GONNA BE OKAY”

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Apparently, which is GREAT NEWS.

It's Gonna Be Okay - An Inner Truth Journal

I’ve had this little journal thingy for a while now, since before The shit That Was 2015. It’s been on my person almost every single day, but I’ve not really made time for it. I should pay more attention to it, as there are some brilliant little anecdotes, which make me smile.

It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.
Tom Robbins

There’s space for me to write stuff. But I think I actually felt weirdly threatened by the header on every single page.

WHAT I’M HANGING HOPE ON TODAY

(And yeah, it’s all caps. No pressure. Caps is for shouting. This thing SHOUTS AT ME every day. Huh.)

Thing is, I think I gave up hoping. Well, not gave up, as it were, but I stopped believing, or something.

I’m not okay, and you’re not okay, and that’s okay.
Elizabeth Kübler-Ross

Truthfully, business has been the TOUGHEST EVER over the last 18 months. I got dangerously side-tracked with things I shouldn’t have done, and gave away a whooooooole lot of my time to people who didn’t give a shit. I lost some people whom I thought would be amazing friends, and I’ve had to seriously re-evaluate where I am with my “family”. Reassurance has not come in droves, and there have been waaaaaaaay too may times where I have genuinely thought to myself “holy shit…I’m going back to the mental house for sure.”

That’s NEVER reassuring.

Every day I pick things up. The business, my life, my kids, myself. Sometimes it’s easy, and I’m all WHOOOO FUCK YEAH BITCHESSSSS!!!! And all too often, it’s Omfg just fucking fuck this fuckity McFuckshit. I’d like it to be less of the latter. And waaaaaaayyyy more of the former. I don’t know how…but maybe reconnecting with my now-missing PMA is the way forward.

I realised it was missing a few months ago. Wish I had noticed sooner, because then it would be easier to reconnect.

HOWEVER, at least I noticed it’s not so present at the moment. *Sly grin*

Optimist: Day-dreamer more elegantly spelled.
Mark Twain

So, I’ll read the front cover every day, because I do like a good run-on sentence which you have to read four times since you weren’t able to follow it in one go, thereby making sense of exactly what it was going on about without losing track somewhere before the third comma. And whilst I’ll remember to reconnect with My Blog (yes, capitals for a reason), I’ll also remember that It’s Gonna Be Okay.

Because It Really Needs To Be Okay.

Meh. Who needs love anyway.

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It’s a subject which will baffle me to the ends of my days. And it’s also something I wonder if I’m far too fussy about.

See, I know what I want in love, and I know what I don’t want. However, if someone wants something so bad, would they not just take whatever they can get? You would think so. I certainly thought so.

But then I keep proving myself wrong, or being super full of doubt.

I guess what I need or want is for someone to show me the kind of love I can actually relate to, in order to better understand it. Perhaps. For example, I don’t want someone to buy me a million expensive gifts. However I know that for some it’s the only way to express it. I understand that much. But it doesn’t work for me. I want someone to hold my hand, and look at me like I’m the most important thing in the world. I want someone to be by my side, and feel weirdly proud to be there. I want someone with a sense of adventure to rival my own, spurring us on to bigger and better things. I want someone who understands when I’m frustrated, and will talk to me, WE will talk things through, to come to an understanding. I want someone to work with as a team, always helping maintain foundations so that we remain strong.

Shit.

The thing is, The Mr is great. He’s really lovely. But I’ve changed so much from where I was, to who I am now. The problem is all mine; back then I didn’t actually know who I was, OR what I wanted. Today, I don’t think I’ve ever been quite so sure. What makes all of this hard, is that on realising this, I am now really sad and really lonely. What makes all of this weird, is hearing people say “oh you’re so pretty, you’re so beautiful, you’re so hot, blah blah…” and I don’t believe any of it. Because I constantly ask myself the question “well what the fuck is wrong with me?”

I don’t blame anyone for the position I am in now.

Over the last week or two, I’ve wondered if I’m actually making a huge mistake, and should I just suck it up, deal with it, and go back to trying to make the marriage work. but then I look at all the reasons why I am stepping away from it, and know that I can’t go back to all of that.

I’m sad, I’m lonely, I’m terrified. Will I love again? Will anyone love me again? Will anyone love me the way I want and/or need? Should I give up now? Should I take what I can get? Should I just settle?

There’s a great big adventure for me out there, with The Smalls in tow, too. They won’t be there every step of the way, because, well, they will be with their dad from time to time. I’m not fighting for them, because I don’t need to. We’re agreed on how they will spend their time with each parent. But even there, is something that makes me wonder. Am I still loveable? Will anyone fall IN love with me, DESPITE being a Single Mom Of Two? Am I seen as damaged goods now? Is that even still stigma, like it was when I was a kid, or is that the norm now?

I don’t have many friends, and I’m not entirely sure why. People all over the place ask me to make sure I stay in touch, or send me messages, or whatever. And yet, I struggle to stay connected with them. Doubt sets in, I question silences (mine and theirs) in my mind, and become exhausted with it all so quickly. I don’t have a “bestie from school days”, I don’t have “an old mate whom I’ve known since I was 3”. There are the few friends who I speak to, whom I do love dearly. But why is it so hard to maintain? Why do I feel so shitty when it comes to wanting to reach out to them?

Right now, all I want to do is call someone, anyone, and say “you know what? I feel like shit. Please can you just listen to me rant, just for a little bit, and then I’ll shut up and go away? I might cry a bit, but I promise I won’t keep you for long.”

The stupidest thing is to sit here whining and complaining about feeling unloved, but not actually doing anything about it.

I actually feel kind of trapped by that, because there’s clearly something stupid going on in my brain. Something is misfiring, and I think I know what (childhood issues) but I’ll be farked if I know what to do about it.

I hate feeling this level of lonely, given how much of a social butterfly I can be. Maybe that’s my problem; maybe I need to stop flying. Maybe I just need to settle in one place, stop moving and hope something develops. The thing is, I don’t have much patience for hanging around. I also don’t feel I can watch the rest of the world go by, whilst I “wait for something to happen, whatever that something might be.

When I love people, I love them fiercely. I love them A LOT. It’s safe to say that, if you’ve ever been caught up in my love radar, you will know it straight away. You might not believe it, and you will most likely be scared of it. But you’ll know it. And I understand the different kinds of love I’ve fired out at people, too. It’s all a bit Love, Actually; sometimes it’s a friend, sometimes it’s for want of a lover, sometimes it’s for a soul mate, sometimes it’s for a person I just want to be with, sometimes it’s one of many others. I understand them all, having experience all of them at some point, to varying degrees.

I sometimes wish I hadn’t.

I feel sometimes I perhaps scare people away. In an age where people live on distance and communicate only by technology, I would imagine I scare people away quite easily. Is it me? Is it my personality? Am I too much to hang around with? Can you not deal with being around me?

I had a conversation ages ago about being friends with men who feel they need to keep me hush-hush. I found that weird and hard to deal with. I have/had friendships where I’m not allowed to message at a certain time, or can only talk on the phone at certain times, or if we meet for lunch/dinner/a pint, I’m not allowed to mention it. Under the assumption that I’m out to steal them? I don’t know. I asked one friend and he said it was most likely because his girlfriend would be jealous. Even though I have no interest in anything more than a friendship. So again, I ask myself, what the fuck am I doing wrong? Why is it so hard to find someone to love me as a friend without feeling fear? Forget trying to find someone who could love me as a partner, because that seems to be crazy talk in any case?

Fuck it.

I’m going round in circles now, not even understanding my own thoughts. Not understanding where I am at with it all, or where I’m supposed to be going.

All I know is that I want to find someone I can match/someone who can match me. Friend, lover, life partner – I don’t even care now. I just want someone who can understand me, in order for me to be able to be myself, and return whatever is given. I have a lot to give. I have so much love to give. So very much. And yet, it always seems to fall on people who throw me away, or can’t accept it, or don’t want to know.

I doesn’t get easier, it gets different. I guess.

Keeping My Mouth Shut. (…pffffft as if…)

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Yeah it’s another semi Facebook rant, but it’s also a few words on a small triumph.

My rant begins with the number of people posting the “STOP DOING THESE THINGS ON FACEBOOK” posts. Stop posting about your kids, your food, your bowel movements. Stop bragging with your holiday snaps. Stop remembering people who died a million years ago. Stop this, stop that, stop communicating on a social network platform.

off-is-the-general-direction_large

You know you can shut that shit down, right? Lord knows I’ve done it enough times over the last few weeks. I open Farcebook, looking to see what’s going on with the wedding world, or to see what my awesome mates are getting up to, and come away wondering if I’m actually allowed to post anything on a social platform designed for POSTING AND SHARING. I discovered several wonderful features, maaaaaany months ago. Hide/block/unfriend gets used a lot. As does “do you wish to close this browser?” Why yes, Google Chrome. Yes I fucking do, since everyone is in a shitty mood and I’m supposed to NOT SAY ANYTHING.

But my rant comes, because today I posted this.

Jay_Emme_-_Finally_sorted_out_the_next_step_in_getting_The_Smalls___

I’ve written about my determination to get them into private school many times before.

http://cosmicgirlie.com/2013/03/14/yeah-im-still-a-school-snob/

http://cosmicgirlie.com/2013/06/24/determined-blazing-glory-face/

Now, my friends who give a shit, will know I have been stressed to my goddamn EYEBALLS in the past, trying to sort out good schooling for The Smalls. Their current school is painful. In the last 3 months, I’ve had to rescue Noah’s reading. He’s gone from crying every time I tell him it’s time to read a school book, through to requesting 5 minutes at bedtime to read several chapters of his own books. He despairs with school books. Here at home, we can’t give him enough to read; I’m pre-empting what the hell he could read next. Providing Isaac isn’t in mental crazy-boy mode in the mornings, they both read for 15 minutes when they wake up.

Noah comes home with weekly maths tests, with which he gets no help at school. We, his parents, have no idea of the point of them, what they’re trying to achieve, how we are to help him, IF we are allowed to help him, how often he is to do them…no help. We have no idea. So when Noah came home with the same test again for the umpteenth time because he didn’t get the answers right at school, he was obviously in tears. He’s borderline hating maths. It’s only thanks to twinkl (that site has been a SAVIOUR, that’s for sure) and me saying “fuck it, school, I’m going to teach him MY way”, he has FINALLY clicked how to work through the test with much less help. Was I supposed to help him? Fuck knows. Support from school has been minimal; The Mr and I are still in the dark.

We understand that with the education system the way it is at the mo, you get what you pay for. I know perfectly well that state schools are stretched to stupidly ridiculous levels, and the majority of children are just not getting the full help and care needed. Teachers are being pushed to absolute limits, and many are in the dark on their subjects, as a result. I know; I’ve taught in schools. So, the aim is to send them to private school, to give them the absolute best education we can afford to give them. The schools in our area are not able to give us what we need. I don’t expect my boy to end up in tears every time I ask him to do numeracy or literacy.

 

Fyi, this morning he said to me “You know, Mommy, I feel much better about my numbers now that you’ve helped me. I think it might be a bit easier now.” Geeze. And if I had stepped back because I had assumed I was not allowed to help? What then?

Anyway. I posted that facebook status, because I am really goddamn pleased to feel that I’m doing all I can to help his education. It is a BLOODY BIG THING to me, making sure that they are BOTH educated people when they grow, with a sense of self, good intelligence, and sound knowledge of important subjects. And of course, rightly so, I’m goddamn proud of my children. So why did I feel immediate guilt when I posted it? Why did I feel that I had to justify posting what I posted?

Why did I think to myself, the actual words, “shit, I better clarify that, as I don’t want people to think I’m bragging about getting them into private school. Hell, maybe I should just delete it?”

I really don’t like myself for thinking that. I wanted to share something with my friends, with people who I thought might give a shit, people who might be mildly interested with our progress, people who are family and want to know what’s going on…it’s my Facebook page and it’s how I let people know stuff. People who care.

So I didn’t delete it, and I’m going to keep posting stuff like that. And I’m going to keep posting how proud I am of my boys. I’m going to keep posting birthday messages to them, and a photo, assuming I remember to do so and haven’t forgotten, because sometimes I’m a douche mom but y’know, it happens.

I’m bloody proud of my kiddos, I’m a foodie, I like photos, and I’m a bloody chatty person. Sooooooo I guess people are going to have to exercise that “STFU” button a little more often where I’m concerned. And now the sun is shining which means it’s time to go outside and play with another camera.

 

 

On Imagination, Dragons, and Taking Far Too Long To Work Out Why Things Bother Me

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This is an expanded version of something I posted on Instagram/Facebook. It’s still playing on my mind, even after pondering it some more, so I wanted to post it here, too. Since this blog is part of my journal, it felt like it made sense to do so.

Someone once told me, I need to “read some of the “right” books, and to not believe everything I see in the movies.” This was in response to wanting to “own” a pet dragon. I had just changed my desktop to a scene from How To Train Your Dragon. Do I believe dragons really exist? I honestly don’t know. My imagination likes to run away with me. I quite like that. Does it mean I live in a dream world? Fuck no. I’m very grounded and am very aware of the things around me.

I have thought about this, a LOT, since I heard those words, a month ago. It has taken me this long to figure out why those words echoed in my head, and grated against me so much. If I were to curb my imagination, to read only books which were “acceptable by all”, what kind of incredibly dull and restricted world would I be living in? What kind of lifeless person would I be? The person who said those words isn’t an asshole. I know her well, I know where she’s been, I know where she’s coming from. But she got me thinking about the lives we lead, and how they affect our growth. And how one persons wonder and delight, can be another persons utter bullshit. That’s fair enough. We’re all different.

Christmas week has taken a lot of imagination to make it work for The Smalls. Their Christmas Eve Gift Box was awesome. Building up the imagination for Santa’s arrival was ace. Christmas Day treats and additional touches were so much fun. It was brilliant, and it felt magical for them, maybe even a little magical for me, too. The very day I curb this, the day I start being selective on what I read and watch, is the day I become one of the same old, “every day” people, one of millions, the very same as so many others, in the world.

Toothless

This is “Toothless”, lead dragon from the book and film series “How to Train Your Dragon”. The Smalls have one each and this third one is my own. And he’s ace, and he’ll be awesome in fueling my fire for imagination and creativity. I wonder and and marvel over the imagination of children, and I’m often jealous at how creative they can be. I’m forever encouraging The Smalls to use their imagination while they play, because that’s how they grow and develop. It’s how they will become incredible human beings, with a sense of strength which few will match. It’s how they will know that, no matter what, they will always be able to find a way around the problems in life, because they will be the ones thinking outside of the box. They will be the ones with greater knowledge than others, because they didn’t restrict themselves in learning.

Because that’s how wonderful the mind can be.

The Need For 3D People and A Mushroom Power Up

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A while ago, I wrote about struggling with the concept of the “{{{{{HUG}}}}}” and how much it meant (or um, DIDN’T mean) to me.

I understand the sentiment. I understand the purpose. But that’s where it ends for me.

I’ve become very aware of how much we hide behind our social media outlets, and how we use social media to “connect” with one another. “Oh, are you around? I’ll see you on Facebook, yeah? Or catch you on twitter.” I don’t belittle these outlets because let’s face it. Some of us live so far away from each other, these outlets are almost all we have. Without the likes of Twitter, Google Plus and Skype, I wouldn’t have found two of my best friends in California and in France. Added to that, I’m eternally thankful that I have this means to speak to them, without really speaking to them.

*Insert whinge and whine about time zones right here*

The problem is I crave the 3D people, but I’ve found that I need THE RIGHT 3D people. I’m a physical person, and like most other humans, I react with contact. I can’t see what’s going on with a 2D person, they’re so much harder to read. Sure I can take a text or a tweet or whatever and make of it what I will. I can look at their 2D photo and try to be reassured in knowing who they are. But at that time, with just a bunch of words on a screen in front of me, I actually DON’T know what they’re about, because my connection is reduced.

3D people are real people. I can read them, I can feel them, I can understand them, and so I can connect with them.

Once I leave this house, and find my own place to live, I wonder how well I will cope living in a world of 2D people for a while. I feel like my strength will diminish, and I won’t be very “effective”. Sure we can go out and meet up with friends for a coffee or whatever. But for me it goes beyond that. I need REAL 3D people and/or mushroom power ups, if I am to keep going. I need nuggets of energy to see me through. And I think a lot of other people do, too. Some realise it, some don’t. But I know for a fact that many others feel they have all the connection they need via social media. But like me, like I thought for a while, it’s because that’s the place where we can seemingly  get the most interaction.

As I said to one of my friends recently, I’d sooner travel for days for one cuddle, than instantly take 1,000 (((hugs))). I know what’s real, and I know what my power ups are. Those will help me stay strong for now.