Why I thoroughly dislike Christmas

It isn't the over commercialization of the holiday. Or the fact that shops will try and beat you into submission by taking one day and throwing it at you in a barrage that lasts for six weeks before it arrives. It is because of an event that happened the day after it occurs.

My beloved maternal grandmother died on December 26th 2006. I adored her and she had lived with my parents and me for over 23 years. It was the first time I had ever lost someone in my family that I was close to, and that I loved deeply. It had, and still has, a profound effect on me. I've been in a state of mourning since that day and I probably always will be. The regrets of all the things I didn't ask or say haunt me and part of me cannot forgive myself for not being there when she died (Mum and I were on our way to collect more clothes and toiletries when we got a call telling us to come back to the hospital as soon as possible... by the time we got back she had slipped away).

The onset of the colder months fills me with dread. The rest of the year I'm ok, I can remember and not get weepy... but the closer it gets to December the more I can feel myself tensing up somehow. I know she wouldn't want me to be sad, but I just can't help it. Believe it or not the new year is the worst. We all used to stay up late to see it in together and a lady up the road always rings a bell to see the old year out and the new year in - Mum and I go outside to listen and when I wish Nana a happy new year I always cry, then I set Mum off and we end up hugging each other and listening to the bell, standing outside in the cold. I just can't seem to help it. It only lasts a minute or two, but losing her still hurts so much. When people say that time heals, it doesn't. Time just moves forward and carries you along with it. You can either allow it to push you forwards or you can fight it and try to cling on to the past for as long as you can... eventually it will sweep you forwards whether you like it or not. We never get over losing people... we just become more and more used to them not being there anymore :0(

As memories fade, the feelings seem to lessen as well and that allows us to cope with everyday life. But the loss is still there, it may be buried deep inside, but it is still there. Maybe not as raw, maybe not as shocking, but still there, waiting for something to trigger it off... a smell, a sound, a look, a time of year... one day it will happen and the grief washes over you again in massive choking waves of pain and heartbreak. Tears flow and nothing you can do will stop them, they have to come out or they will drown you and burst forth when you least expect them to. It makes you want to crawl into bed and squeeze yourself into a tiny ball and you wish for sleep so that for a few short hours you can forget. Upon waking you have a few seconds of exquisite happiness when you are not awake enough to remember... but then you do, and sorrow smashes down upon you like a ton weight and you drag yourself out of bed and try and face the day with a brain full of sadness and a heart full of misery.

I still cling to the few precious things I have that belong to Nana. I cannot let them go as then my final grasp on the physical her will be gone as well. I need them to remind me of happy times; reading her recipes and remembering her baking a cake, seeing her handwriting and recalling watching her write cards and notes to people she loved, wearing her jewellery and feeling as if I have a small piece of her against my skin. I had to dispose of her perfume as it just triggered too much, too often... I was inundated with memories from just one sniff, it was unbearable. I smelled it the other day, whilst packing up the weekly shop in a crowded supermarket and I was momentarily unable to move as I thought she was there, mad I know, but for a nanosecond I had hope that she was, even though I knew she wasn't.

Sometimes I have to marvel that I haven't gone insane. I wonder why I am not in a mental health unit when just typing this entry has me sat here with tears blinding me and loss threatening to overwhelm me again. Maybe it is because I cannot allow it to do that, I have people that depend on me and I can't let them down. My needs must be tempered by the fact they rely on me... if I fall apart who will be there for them then? I have to suck it up and only allow myself to let it out when everyone else is asleep... then I can put my needs first and just cry. Just release the pressure once in a while and allow myself to be sad and let my heart break again. Then I can fall into a hopefully restful sleep and maybe by morning my heart will have reassembled itself back together again... not perfect (like a broken vase, mended with glue, is never really the same as it was before it shattered) but passable to any but the most in depth of inspections.

All of this creeps towards me the nearer December comes.

That is why I dislike Christmas.

Hospitals are such depressing places...

... and when the person you're visiting is a depressing person the experience is doubly soul destroying :o(

My Nan has suffered from two small and one medium stroke and has been in hospital for three weeks now. She seems to be getting worse instead of better and is content to just fester in her bed without putting even minimal effort into getting better and going home (although she is very vocal about what's not going to happen!) Three different women have been discharged from her ward since she was admitted, but all she is prepared to do when asked to do anything - regardless how small - is say "I can't" without even trying *sigh*

It's sad to watch someone just give up... I know she's 89 but to see a woman formerly so robust sit in bed and wet and soil herself without caring just drains me (of energy and also patience). Demoralising isn't the word :o(

Sorry to be a bit of a downer, I just don't know what to say to her anymore to make a difference. I've been gentle, harsh, kind, cruel, sharp, cajoling, patient, impatient - and now I just don't know what to say to her. My visits involve me sitting in a chair in virtual silence once the subjects of her meals, my meals, the journey, the weather, the other people in the ward and whether anyone has phoned to ask how she is, have been discussed. She doesn't like people laughing or making jokes and is quick to scold those that do with "it's not funny" or "don't laugh" and the way it's said quickly wipes any smiles away. Luckily I'm not alone during visits as Mum and Dad are with me, sometimes my youngest uncle, too, when he get get away from work. Without them all there as well I would probably go barmy!

I just worry how all this will affect my Dad (who suffers from depression himself). In turn that makes me anxious and nervous which doesn't help my digestive system which is not strong at the best of times. Mum is suffering from stress as well and for the first time in years the eczema on her legs has flared up and it looks like her leg ulcer could be returning as well (she's desperately trying to stop that before it starts). The extra walking is beginning to hurt Dad as he suffers from dreadful arthritis (and I swear the dreadfully uncomfy chairs are responsible for my current back pain).

We used to visit every day, but there seems little point if there is no positive change. Now we go every other day so that Dad can rest himself (and most 'off' days he spends asleep as it just takes so much out of him).

All told I just feel a bit dejected at the moment.

Today I feel...

... well, honestly, I don't really know how I feel. Part of me doesn't really feel anything much at all, and another part of me feels tired and another part feels kind of "numb" somehow and another part of me just feels like crying... it's hard to explain really.

I probably shouldn't have watched "Living with the Amish" last night... although I love the show it always seems to leave me in a deep funk the next day. Maybe because I kind of envy their simple yet rewarding lives, I also envy their sheer depth of faith and their strong work ethic... I'm such a lazy person, if I can do tomorrow what should be done today then I will without hesitation :o(

I wonder if my constantly feeling tired is the cause - regardless of when I go to sleep or how much I have I just always feel tired. I never feel refreshed when I wake and usually feel worse than when I went to sleep! I've had tests run by the doctor and they came back saying nothing was wrong... yet I certainly don't feel right. But I don't know what to do about it. I swear that Sissy and Pingu just think I'm doing it for attention and they seem to react every time I mention how I feel as if I'm just a huge hypochondriac! So these days it is yet another topic of conversation I avoid when they are around.

I seem to spend my days in pain, very tired or in a bad mood... and I can become intensely irritated in less time than it takes to blink! I just feel as if I'm losing myself somehow, like I'm here but not completely here. I can't really put it into words, but it leaves me feeling sort of hollow.

Thankfully it's Friday... I don't think I could have stood another day doing a job I loathe for people that don't appreciate anything I do!

I'm surrounded by sex-mad people!

I'm at a dating site for big women... and all of the guys that speak to me all seem as if they just want to get their leg over and shag like rabbits! I don't want that, not at all. One guy even asked why I was on the site if I'm not interested in sex!! What kind of question is that?!?! What about friendship? What about romance? Is sex the be-all and end-all of human achievement? Is there nothing else? What am I missing here?!

I like the idea of being in a relationship, I really do, but the sex part doesn't matter to me, in any way (I also don't want kids). The thought of having sex makes me feeling sick (in fact I just shuddered at the prospect). To me there is so much more than interlocking body parts. Maybe because I'm a virgin and have never even been kissed is the reason (as I've been told I don't know what I'm missing, which is true, I don't)... maybe it's because I find my body repulsive and the thought of someone else seeing it (and the reactions it would no doubt garner) fills me with fear! I like the idea of being kissed... it's just the rest that makes me want to turn and flee in terror. Sex just seems to make things so complicated and can lead to such life changing events that I don't want (kids, disease, medical examinations, etc).

I like men, I really do, I like the thought of being in the company of a man that I find attractive... I like the thought of hugging and kissing, walking hand in hand, of looking into his eyes and feeling loved and all of the other little things that couples do together... just not the sex part! I think it would take someone incredibly special to ever change my mind, too, and I'm not sure such a man exists.

I also don't see how people could ever see me in a sexual context, I have nothing sexual about me... some people seem to exude sexiness from every pore, I don't. I can't even flirt so I don't bother as it seems to send out signals that I don't know how to deal with when things always seem to turn more serious.

I just don't understand this obsession with sex that seems to pervade every tiny facet of people's lives these days... surely there has to be more depth to people than that? If not then what the hell is wrong with me in that I don't and can't see things in the same way?!

Maybe I shouldn't bother in trying to find someone out there... if all I'm going to be is a place to rest their genitals then I'd rather be alone and stay true to myself... another reason that I'm grateful to prostitutes... they deal with the guys with one track minds so I don't have to!!

Guess I'm just a frigid prude.

I always knew I was different... now I know I am a total freak by today's (low) standards... not sure how I feel about that, being honest  **shrugs**

I hate it when people lie to me

And when that person is a potential love interest it hurts even more when they finally admit the truth to your face.

See, I started something with someone online... and they basically used me for their own selfish ends and then dumped me and pretended like nothing happened. I don't think so!!

The part that hurt the most was that it is because of what I look like that they changed their opinion... and I told them it would, and they assured me it wouldn't matter, and then when they saw me everything changed, and although part of me was relieved another part of me was very hurt and also pissed off that I had been used and lied to the whole time!! It's taken me a week to finally get him to admit it, and now he has I feel surprisingly fine... sort of lighter and back to myself. I just needed him to tell the truth and stop feeding me bullshit and lies. I have no hard feelings and have told him that if he is willing to forget the past then so am I. I guess I'm just a forgiving kind of person and he is only 21 and probably still hurting from the break up of his first relationship two months ago. I like the guy and would still like to be his friend... but if not then I have lost nothing, and I can't change my nature and be a total bitch because that is not who I am... once my initial anger has faded I just have to get things back on a even keel again... it's just that I have to have that balance, but then I am a Libra and it shows ROFL!

If nothing else it has made me wary for the future, and also determined that nothing like it will ever happen again... and I'm also damned certain that I will never be suckered into situations that leave me wide open to being used again.

The past is the past, and I'll forgive but not forget. I firmly believe that to forget the past means you are doomed to repeat it, and that is never going to happen again. I do want a man in my life... but not one that is going to treat me like shit, I'm more than capable of treating myself like that and I need no help from anyone else... thank you very much.

As the old saying goes "Fool me once, shame on you... fool me twice, shame on me!"

Moved yet more of my stuff out of my old room...

... because "they" need more space! I am so angry right now. They agreed to all of my books being in the room when they took it on, and now over time more and more of my stuff is going into my tiny room, meaning they have even more room and I have less! I now have books stacked on my floor, at the end of my bed, even outside my bedroom door! It pisses me off as it was fine when they first moved in, but now it's not... I still have no more space to put stuff, but they want it out  **fumes**

The time frame of their being here has also increased, first it was roughly a year, then a year to 18 months... now it's 2-3 YEARS!! I will go insane, I know I will. Just the thought of them both here for that length of time fills me with a sense of dread that I cannot put into words (I'm not joking, either, it really does). Three years of having to hide my journals/blogs from prying eyes, three years of Pingu's "suggestions" for how to make the house better, three years of being woken up at all hours and of never ever having a good sleep when my stomach plays up as I'm always woken by them slamming drawers or stomping to the bathroom, three years of there never being any hot water to have a shower as they take it all (he had two showers yesterday and there was no hot water left for anyone else!). I will be end up writing this from an asylum or going to live with my Nan, I just know I will!

I just feel so helpless... like an invader in my own home!!

Big Brother has finished, and I'm so sad.

I cried, which is totally pathetic, I know, but there we go. (So glad Brian won, though, he is a legend and I love him).

I used to hate the show, and then I got into it and now I'm so melancholy about it ending. I get this way with all of the programmes I love that are brutally axed, Eldorado, Buffy, Angel, Last of the Summer Wine, Rosemary and Thyme... even the baseball coverage on Channel 5 was taken away a few years ago and it's never come back.

Just makes me sad as I seem to get so involved in things and when they are suddenly no longer there I seem to go into a kind of mourning for them... I make closer bonds with tv shows than I do with real life people. 

Sad end of a great show... I'll miss it very much, I never realised just how much until now :o(

By the Gods, I hate controlling people!

Sadly I can't write about it here for fear of someone reading it! My paper journal is certainly taking a lot of flak, at present... mostly angry entries :(

I will say that had I known before hand, just how horrible it would be to live with selfish people I would never have agreed to it! Neither can I stand racism... some jokes are ok, as long as they are jokes (though even they are wrong) but to use the "n" word and say that "at the end of the day, no black can be trusted" is pushing my tolerance way too far!!

Oh to revert back to the days when this house contained three people. I never realised just how nice it was until it was gone.

Is it wrong to grieve over a car?

The answer to that is obviously yes... why then, am I still doing it?!

Mum and Dad are currently outside talking to a man ** that will hopefully give us some money for the old car and then take it away... I am crying my eyes out at the prospect of this happening. I love that car.

Nobody seems to want to give us a decent amount of money for it, either. We currently have quotes for between £80 and £150... for a car that has numerous new parts on it (well over £400 of new parts in the last six months!) We are probably going to have to go with the offer for £150... it's my uncles' friend and at least we know and trust the guy. Just the thought of my car going through the scrapper makes me upset, though... why do I feel like that?!?!?! It's... a... CAR! Not a human being, not an animal, a car... what is wrong with me?

Granted, it was my first car and there are so many memories attached to it (both good and bad), but even so, when all is said and done (and however much personality I, for whatever reason, have attached to it) it's still just a car **sigh**

Why can I not seem to let things go? I hate having to lose/give away my possessions... unless I know they are going to a good home that will take care of my things the same way I would myself - then I seem to be ok with letting things go.

I don't know... I guess it's something that I'm just going to have to get over... and the sooner I do it, the better I will be in the future (I suppose).

** The guy that came to see about the car just now was totally rude and after offering £100 was told to get lost! He even came with a tow truck (talk about presumptuous!) When he was told no, he even walked away leaving the engine running! What a total arsehole!!!

Not holding my breath, but...

... we have an appointment tomorrow at 10.30am at a car dealership a few miles from us to see about getting a car on Dad's DLA. We are hoping to get something like a Kia Soul (we have to have a car that is quite high so that Dad can get out of it, but also that is big enough inside to take me... being a person of huge size, and all). Plus I would like it to have three seats in the back (with seat belts) so that I can at least take us all to the coast if we want to go... there would be at least four of us if Sissy came, maybe five if my Nan came, too).

I'm still undecided about using it for the kids... when all is said and done, the job I do, I do to keep a roof over our heads, including Dad, so it is to his nest interests if I use the car to carrying on working. Would the DLA see it in the same way as I do... probably not. I'll just have to cross that bridge when I come to it, I suppose.

Mum is feeling quite excited at the prospect of getting a new car. All of the cars we have ever had have been second hand, sometimes third hand (or more), but as nice as it would be to have a brand new car, and as happy as I am over the fact that there is light at the end of this particular tunnel, another part of me is teetering on grief at the thought of losing my car... the car that my Dad bought me five years ago as a present for passing my test... the only car that has ever been mine. I feel very melancholy at the moment, and it wouldn't take too much to sit here and burst into tears. Just the thought of my car going to the crusher or being stripped for parts breaks my heart, it really does... but what can I do? Realistically we will be much better off financially in getting the new car (as the loss of DLA money is made up by the money we'd get back in tax and insurance from the old one).

I just have so many memories mixed up in that car... holidays with my Nana, trips with the kids, all of the fun and laughter that has happened inside it over the years. For someone that hates change and clings to the past to the huge extent that I do, it's like the passing of an era. One thing I do know... when we find a way to get my car taken away, I will not be able to watch her go... it would be too much for me to watch.

Must stop writing now... I'm getting far too upset.


**Please forgive any mistakes or spelling errors in the above entry... I'm far too emotional to read it through to check it :(**

What a strange experience!

(long entry... sorry)


I was talking to two christians yesterday (which in this case was a bad idea) and the topic was other religions and of course the topic shifted to talk of my burning in hell for all eternity because of my refusal to accept Jesus! One poster there was only 15 and another one chimed in and the tone of their posts really upset me in the end and I got quite scared about what they were saying (mind you it was 3am, I was tired and alone and they caught me by surprise with their tag-team posting!).

Anyway... in the end I had to turn off the computer as I was getting quite panicky (never happened to me before) and I thought to myself "what if they're right and I do go to hell!" I don't even believe in the place and I was getting totally freaked out! So weird! So I close down the kitchen (lock the door, check the windows, change the cats' water, etc) and I go upstairs and start getting ready for bed. Now, normally just thinking of Selene would calm me down and make me feel better, but last night it didn't, if anything it seemed to add to my panic.

I was sat on the loo (sorry, I know, tmi!) brushing my teeth and trying to distract myself by reading a book (and failing dismally) when I heard a bird singing outside. Now that's not too strange around here, I hear birds all the time (even at 3am as we have bright lights on the motorway) but this was a bird that I'd never heard before, and as it was chirping away, a name just popped into my head "Ceridwen" and from then on I could almost hear this bird singing "Ce-rid-wen" when it was chirping. Now I've glanced briefly at the Welsh/Celtic Pantheon, but nothing more than that (the prounounciation always put me off), so why it should be the name of Ceridwen that calmed me right down and filled me with a feeling of tranquility, I have no idea, and I still don't?! I looked her up in my mythology book and the scant info I had said that she was a fertility goddess, and then mentioned about her brewing a potion of knowledge for her ugly son, but someone else drank it so she ate him and he later became the bard, Taliesin (or something like that, I was really tired by this point, and I haven't looked for more info before writing this).

After a few minutes I was feeling back to normal, and the birdsong seemed to get louder for an instant, and then it was gone... and it hasn't returned. I don't even know which bird it was, although I know what it wasn't (not crow, pigeon, magpie, starling, collared dove, blue tit or jay, as we have them on the birdtable, and I know their songs and chirps quite well). It just seemed so strange to hear a new birdsong when I was in such need of reassurance, and then once I was calm and telling myself what an idiot I was for being spooked by those people, it made me aware for an instant with an increase of volume, and then it was gone. I would know the song if I heard it again, although I cannot describe it (as I'm rubbish at doing animal impressions).

I know it's not unheard of for people to be drawn to gods from different pantheons, but I was so sure about Selene, yet today I feel nothing for her... she is just another Greek god, and I feel really sad about that... could I have been wrong about having her as my patron all along? Or was she just there to guide me into my craftwork and now her job is done and I am free to explore other things? I feel a little bereft, to tell the truth, and I don't know what to do now! If I'd been asked yesterday which god was "mine" I would have had no hesitation in answering, Selene... but ask me now and I have not a clue **sigh**

Not liking the sound of this... not at all!

The mum came for the interview (the one with the daughter with 'suspected' ADHD, nothing comfirmed after all... the tests are being done on her now) and she made the little girl out to be like something from hell! Apparently, the child does whatever she wants, she has no fear of any punishment (time-out, smacks, blackmail ie. be good or you won't get...), she's destructive, rude, insolent, has no respect, and never does as she's told... ever! She also doesn't respond well to praise and as soon as you praise her for doing something well or for being good, within half an hour she's doing or done something to spoil it again.

They are both coming back to see us next Wednesday at midday (as it's a school holiday)... I am dreading it, to be honest, and part of me wishes that we'd never phoned her back (LOL!)

I'm just no good with kids that don't do as they're told... probably because we've always had bigger kids that have been with us since they were babies, so it's never been an issue before. Or maybe because we are being forced by our current financial bind to take in the kids that before we would have refused... I just don't know. All I do know is that this job has become like a millstone around my neck that I am forced to bear the weight of, in order for me and my parents to have a house to live in and food on the table (not to mention be able to pay our bills!). These days I do this job as I am forced to, and certainly not because I want to! The only time I seem to be happy or feel joy is when they go home (and I'm sure that I shouldn't feel that way). Such a shame, as I used to really like doing this, and at one stage I loved it... sadly, those days are long in the past and all I have is memories.