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.

Quick test post using BlogIt!

It's been a long time since I updated here and I'm sorry, life just has a way of kicking you in the teeth sometimes. My paternal grandmother died and although we weren't close it still knocked me for six... most of the time it still seems unreal and it is almost three months since she passed. Anyway, I'll update in more detail later on... I just wanted to try out this new blogging app as my HP tablet doesn't support the dedicated Blogger app and this is compatible so I wanted to try it :0)

My grandmother died on Friday.

The summer Solstice will now forever be linked with sadness for me. She passed away peacefully in her sleep, although her death was sudden as she wasn't ill and had showed no signs of rapid decline.

My Dad cried like a baby and Mum was upset because Dad was upset... but I don't know how I feel. I'm sad, but not upset - I'm sad that my Dad has lost his Mum, and like my Mum is now legally an orphan. I've not cried and it is not because I didn't love her, I suppose deep down I did, but she wasn't affectionate or loving towards me and I honestly didn't know her. If I'm brutally honest I didn't like her much... she was rude, unthoughtful and sometimes downright nasty, she was also an unapologetic racist. She used to make comments about my weight and I had to just keep smiling and bite my tongue sometimes to keep from screaming. In the end I sort of stopped really listening, I was pleasant and did the things she asked, but I felt she didn't trust me and I was always sort of on edge whenever I was around her. I was never close to her as she never allowed me to get close to her. She kept me at a distance and as a result I became very ambivalent towards her while she was alive. I did all I could for my Dad's sake, rather than hers. I feel no guilt as I did all I was allowed to do, even then I often got the impression she just wanted me to go away :0(

How do you grieve for someone you didn't know? Is it even possible? Is there any point? Sorrow is something you can't force, either you feel it or you don't. I don't feel anything much. I remember when my Nana died I grieved for years, it took me months to be able to wake up in the morning and not feel heartache crash down on me. Even now I sometimes cry because I miss her, but she lived with us for over two decades and I saw her every day. She loved me and told me so, gave me hugs, kisses, made me clothes when I couldn't find any that fitted in the shops. I knew that she liked me and she respected me. Never did she make comments that made me sad and despondent. In short Nana was the total opposite to Nan. Which is why my reactions are the opposite ends of the spectrum. On one hand I deeply mourn the passing of a large part of my heart; a loving, warm, affectionate friend... on the other is a distant, aloof, hurtful, virtual stranger that is my father's mother. A part of me is sad we weren't closer - but I know it wasn't my doing... how can you try and get close to someone if they don't let you?

Sad day

Richard Briers has died aged 79.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Briers

I loved his work... The Good Life, Roobarb and Custard, his appearance in Midsomer Murders and then Monarch of the Glen.

He will be greatly missed :0(

Picked up the new car yesterday...

... and as much as it's nice, I still preferred the old one. Maybe because I'd become used to it, I knew how to park it and the width, for barriers and just general driving.

I'm not a fan of change anyway, so having change forced upon me never works well.

I should stress that the car is for my Dad... because of his disabilities he qualifies for a new car every three years under the Motobility Scheme (which is all about giving people with disability more opportunity to get out and about).

I've just had to go out and move it because of the atrocious weather outside... it's pouring with rain, the wind is gale force and it's tossing large wheelie bins about like a child throws toy bricks! The small bin belonging to "her next door" has blown over twice, and when Mum looked out of her window it was being blown straight for the new car!! Despite putting it back it happened again... so she came and told me and I moved the new Betsy (all cars are called Betsy lol) to a more secluded part of the road (a small parking section referred to as 'the pan' because it is shaped like a pan... it is also away from the main road, you can just make it out in the picture on the right behind the car). I was still in my pj's and didn't wait longer than it took to put on socks and shoes to move it.

Now I'm sat on my bed with cold knees as I'm wearing shorts. My socks are wet and I had to dry my shoes as well lol. My coat got drenched, and as it's an old wool coat you don't notice how wet you are until ten minutes after you take it off lol. I have a sort of lingering chill across my shoulders and I suspect my night shirt it damp as well.

At least I can't say my life is always uneventful hahaha. If nothing else the weather keeps me on my toes.

A simplified form of paganism for me from now on

For ages now I've felt as if my connection to Selene has been broken. I just don't feel as if there is anything there between us anymore. When I think of how excited and happy I was when I first realised I'd finally found a "patron" after years of searching it makes me a little sad, if I'm honest, to think that the link between us is gone.

But on the flip side I'm not bereft enough to fight for something I'm sure isn't really for me anymore. A large part of me thinks I've moved forward and Selene was there for as long as I needed her. Another part of me wonders in the role of gods and I feel quite agnostic about them as a whole at present. It's a fairly confusing and contradictory set of thoughts and ideas swirling around in my tired (and illness/cold/flu riddled) brain at present. The contradiction is this... I do believe that gods exist, I just don't really want a relationship with them anymore. I will always have a soft spot for Selene, she was the only goddess that ever made herself known to me personally (or maybe I convinced myself she did... that is open for debate lol) and I'll always be grateful to her for arriving at a point in my life when I was seriously questioning my being pagan at all. I was ready to give up completely and suddenly Selene appeared and made me feel that I was on the right track, and that regardless of what other "better pagans" thought about me and the way I practised my "craft" that I was pagan enough and had nothing to prove to anyone but myself. I felt accepted and wanted for the first time in my pagan life. I will always be grateful for that and the strength I gained.

Now though, I don't feel as if I need her and I also don't feel as if she needs me. It feels like a mutual parting of the ways. I feel as if I have gained all I needed to from our relationship and she is telling me that I'm strong enough now to go my own way. Like a mother that helps her child to learn to walk and then lets them discover the world for themselves. I hope that makes sense. I know it sounds fairly non-sensical and confusing, but I can't seem to explain it better.

I seem to feel quite apathetic most of the time and ritual has never been very high on my list of "essentials" so attempting to plan elaborate sabbats was never me... and I dont recall ever marking an esbat in my life! Apart from the odd pagan bits and bobs in jewellery and the cauldron I have, people would have a hard time telling that I'm a pagan at all by looking at me. I've gone past the "dripping with pentagrams" stage that most newbies go through. It feels more natural to wear my more goth themed items than it does the pagan ones these days.

Anyway, I digress.

Simple paganism for me is basically the stripping down of all the stuff and nonsense that I've spent the last dozen or so years trying my hardest to do! No overly planned rituals, no ritual clothing, no ritual items like athames or wands, no casting circles, no incense and no invoking gods or elements. I fact sometimes I don't say anything at all and just light a candle and think about what I want it to symbolise or who to help or "insert occasion here."

Bottom line is, I'm finished with that which I can't prove for myself to be 100% true or that I feel I don't need anymore (like gods). I've become more nature based in my ways. Earth, Air, Fire, Water... I can see and feel them, I can prove them to be real and I interact with them everyday of my life. Spirit is more difficult for me to comes to terms with, but I see that as akin to the energy in all things or like the soul. Granted I cannot prove that it exists but I cannot prove it doesn't either... so I choose to believe it does as it makes sense to me. If I can understand it and it makes sense to me then I have no problem with it.

I suppose my craft life, such as it is, could be described as "pagan-lite" ... simple yet meaningful to me, if no one else - and something which enriches me and doesn't feel like a chore or a burden. I guess that is all that matters really :0)

Long time no blog

I've not been here for a while now and I've got nothing really exciting to say.

Life is ticking along the same as ever really... except that my Nan is now unable to use any of her limbs because she just seemed to give up after her stroke (and it wasn't even a severe stroke as she only really lost her ability to stand at first). Now she will have to go into a care home as she's basically a quadraplegic and can do nothing for herself. I was sad at first, but now at least I won't have to worry about her falling over at home or burning her hand on the oven (like she did once before). She'll be safe and cared for and not many 90 year olds can say that.

Xmas always leaves me feeling a bit sad these days. Part of me misses that excitement that I used to feel, but the bigger part of me just sees this time of year as a time to mourn. It's the seventh anniversary of my beloved Grandmother's death on the 26th December. Time has healed the raw pain but there is still that scar that never properly heals and that sometimes causes me pain when I least expect it. I still miss her so very much, and I can feel the tears forming as I write this. She still had so much left to teach me and when she was here I made no effort to learn... and now it's too late and my opportunities have all gone. If I could pass one piece of advice on to all those that have elders that want to teach you something you're not too keen to learn, it would be this  -  accept the lessons while you have the chance, once the teacher is gone it's too late! Don't let yourself carry regrets from the past because you couldn't be bothered to shut up and listen for once.

Grief is a strange emotion. It strikes at random times. I was laughing earlier and now I feel as if I could howl my eyes out. I'm not a fan of crying as it leaves me feeling drained and exhausted, but sometimes it is the only thing that relieves the pain and tension... like screaming when you're angry eases the rage.

I think the hardest part about this time of year for me is seeing Mum get upset. We're not really an "emotional" family. We rarely cry tears of sadness and me being as soft as velvet under my pretend tough exterior means that when I see my parents cry I burst into tears myself. I try and be strong but sometimes I just can't be.

I need to stop writing or else I shall just break down.

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.

I've been thinking about the past few days...

... and why it made me so upset. It has nothing to do with the story from FB, but the reactions of people regarding me that has upset me. I have no problem with people disagreeing with me, that's fine and I'm not arrogant enough to believe that everyone should agree with me. It is the way in which people disagree with me, and that is what I have a hard time handling - when people are overly confrontational to me or talk to me as if I'm a piece of shit, that is when I become angry. I don't think it would have hurt as much had the guy from FB had any real contact with me lately, but he hasn't (the galling thing being that I'd recently sent him a cd that cost me £12 for free and then refused his offer to refund the almost £3 it cost me in postage to send it to him!)

Then I had someone I don't remember attack me here, when she has never once posted any kind of comment on this blog before. Then she tried to justify her doing so by saying that because I had commenting set to 'everyone' it gave her the right to speak to me like crap. Then she had the cheek to lecture me about 'lacking common decency' - that now strikes me as quite funny. I guess she knows all about that as she lacks it herself.

Apparently she has done it in the past as well, to people I do remember (and it was only when my brother went searching for her that he found a blog that posted her screen-name, which I kind of recall... although I still didn't have any contact with her directly even then). I guess some people are so arrogant and have such high opinions of themselves and their opinions they somehow feel they have the right to ride roughshod over everyone else regardless of what kind of damage they may do in the process. Having a loud voice doesn't always mean you have to scream at everyone all the time. One day they will scream at the wrong person and find someone screaming back... I just wish I could be there to see it happen and give them the old classic of  'I told you so'.

It's probably because I do take the things that people say to me seriously, and when I'm attacked online it feels just as bad as when I'm verbally attacked in the street for being fat. As much as I try and shake it off and tell myself that people don't know me and are just saying hurtful things to be hurtful or impress others and make them laugh, deep down it still cuts and bleeds and causes a scar. I struggle so much to be myself and not worry what other people think of me, it has taken years for me to do that and most of the time I still feel vulnerable and exposed when I attempt to be myself around anyone not a member of my tiny inner circle. It is akin to building a high wall around yourself to keep the world out and then having to gradually remove bricks in order to rejoin the world... only to have someone come along and try and batter the wall down so you build it back up, stronger and higher than before. Leaving you right back where you started, in fact in a worse place than where you started as you have more bricks to remove just to get back to that place.

People are always saying that I should stand up for myself and not allow people to stop me being who I am... yet it always seems that on the few occasions I do just that, I am once again attacked, belittled, dog-piled and  made to feel like I'm a horrible person for merely being myself. I can't win. I'm told I'm too lenient and a bit of a doormat, and then when I stand up for myself I'm told I'm 'not who I thought you were' and that I'm in the wrong and somehow lacking basic human decency.

I wish I could stop the people that don't matter from affecting me so badly, and for all of the positive and supporting messages I receive I still remember the negative and nasty ones. I may have a strong opinion, but I rarely use it against other people unless they attack me first. I have a strong opinion regarding issues, not individuals... and I would never speak to people the way they speak to me, especially in public. That to me 'lacks common decency'.

On a sad note...

... my family are all sad today as we had to have our oldest cat put to sleep... she'd been diagnosed with diabetes and thyroid problems. As she hated being handled we thought about it for ages, and discussed it and came to the conclusion that the kindest thing to do would be to let her go peacefully. Had she been younger than 18 we might have felt differently about the twice daily insulin injections for the rest of her life, but adding all of the "cons" together they vastly out-weighed the "pros" and she is now at peace and not in pain anymore.

I felt like a total bitch when I signed the papers to authorise the injection, and neither Mum or I could stay to watch her go. We left the vets and promptly burst into uncontrollable tears in the car park. I feel better now, I know it was for the best, but there is still a hole in my heart where Gem used to be. Yes she was miserable, cantankerous and sometimes downright vicious, but we also had her for 12 years and you get used to the little foibles of animals when you have them for a long time. I hope that we did a little something to prove to her that not all humans were like her first owners, they abused her and eventually abandoned her on a local heath to fend for herself. If nothing else she always had food to eat, water to drink, and a soft, warm bed to sleep in at night.

The weather was also apt, it started raining on the way home... for some reason death always hits deeper when the sky is grey and the rain is lashing the windows. I admit that when the sun came out this afternoon I did feel better... but that could be because I think I cried myself dry this morning :o(

100 years ago today the Titanic sank taking over 1,500 lives with her.

For some reason I have a heaviness on my heart that I cannot shake off. I have long been fascinated with the Titanic, I have countless books and many and varied newspaper cuttings (whenever I see something in the paper I always cut it out and paste it in a scrapbook I have).

I'll never forget the sense of shock I felt when I found a familiar name on the list of crew that went down with the ship. George B. Ede... who was a third class steward. I don't know if he is a part of my family, he was born and lived in Southampton (not a town I've ever heard we have a connection to) but the name Ede is so very rare that a part of me holds out hope that he is. He was only 22 when he perished with over 1,500 other souls; men, women and children (of all classes). I often wonder if he faced death with quiet courage or did he fight until the end? I wonder if he prayed to God for a quick end, or for help to arrive and save those left behind?

The last survivor of the tragedy died in 2010 (98 years to the day that the Titanic was sent down the slipway and launched into the water in Belfast, 31st May 2009). Her name was Millvina Dean and she was only nine weeks old when she was placed into a lifeboat with her mother and older brother... for the first eight years of her life she didn't even know she had been on board the ship. Of course her father died that night "women and children first" being the order of the day.

For some reason it is an event that I am so very drawn to, there is just "something" that connects me to it and I have no idea just what that is. Maybe there is a tenuous family link through a lowly third class steward, I have no idea. I just know that the Titanic, her story and her tragedy hold a tiny piece of my heart... and always will.

To all those that have now gone I say God bless you all... wherever you may be :o(



The pictures at the top of this entry are 1. An actual photograph of the ship, 2. an artists impression of the ship by Ken Marschall. 3. (below) the pennant of The White Star Line, owners of the ship.

Why are some men such liars!!

I've been talking to a guy called Bobby for about a month over at Facebook. He had been a Farmville friend for months before he started speaking to me (which he did when I started using my actual picture as an avatar).

The conversations started to get more intense each time we spoke, and I checked his profile and it said "single" so I was fine for the talk to get more personal. He told me how unhappy he was with his life and that he was desperate to leave where he was. We even discussed sexual things (not that it mattered much to me, but I followed the conversation where it meandered). He said I was beautiful, and talked about coming to see me one day.

Yesterday he gave me his private email address and I gave him mine... all was going well until I went to his profile again, to look at his picture in his photo album and I saw something that shocked me to the core... in the relationship status section, instead of "single" as it used to say it said "in a relationship with" and it was the name of someone else!!

He lied to me when he said he was single, he's been in a relationship this whole time! He said that all the things he'd ever say to me were honest, but he lied from the start. I sent him this message:

"Just checked your profile and it says you're in a relationship... why didn't you say anything? I wouldn't have said so many personal things to you had I known that you were taken :o("

He sent back:

"sorry"

I replied with:

"So am I, and I'm sure when we first started chatting that your status said single... I wouldn't have said the things I did had it said otherwise.

How long have you been together? Were you ever going to tell me or just keep talking to me as if there could have ever really been something between us? I now don't believe anything you've ever told me, including when you said I was beautiful. You said you'd always be honest with me, and yet if I hadn't checked your profile you'd still be lying to me right now!

You have no idea just how much you've hurt me because you lied! I had genuine feelings for you... I'm so stupid!"

Then he sent me this:

"hey i did tell u i was in one"

He didn't say anything about that! I would never have said some of the things I did to him had I known he was involved with someone else. I wouldn't have allowed myself to believe there could really have been something between us had I known he was with someone else. I wouldn't have been so open about my asexuality with someone I didn't think was serious about me.

After he sent that final message he removed me as a friend, and he appears to have blocked me as I can no longer see his profile...  it's like he never existed. So the final message I typed to him, that I couldn't send I actually posted as my status, for everyone to see, and I named him, too:

"To Bobby Downs, who appears to have blocked me so I can no longer send you messages, you spineless coward and liar:* No, you did not tell me you were already with someone! I would never have said the things I said to you had I known you were in a relationship! And why would you be saying the things you've said to me if you already have someone in your life?! Say them to her, not me. * Arsehole!!!"

I wonder if I hadn't gone to his profile to see his picture if he'd still be talking to me now? Probably he would, as he was shameless enough to talk to me and lie from the beginning... I just don't know how people can do that! It's such a callous and cruel thing to do :o(

'Jackass' star Ryan Dunn dies in fiery Pa. crash - News - Yahoo! TV

'Jackass' star Ryan Dunn dies in fiery Pa. crash - News - Yahoo! TV

I am so sad right now, I loved him in Jackass, and if truth be told I even had a little crush on him... he was my age, too, far too young to die in a horrific car crash where he could only be identified by his tattoos and hair! He had a passenger as well, so it's a double tragedy (the passenger is as yet known).

RIP Ryan Dunn, and your passenger... my thoughts are with your families and friends at this sad time.

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**

Some random thoughts about my Nana's death...

I remember when my grandmother died, I swear I felt my heart break and then sort of harden, somehow... sort of like I was trying to make sure it never happened again.

Thinking about it, that was probably the start of my goth journey... I'd never experienced anything like that before and I was forced to accept certain things (like death) as a normal part of life. Part of me had kind of refused to accept it before... losing loved ones was something that happened to other people, not to me, so it was a total shock when I lost someone that was such a huge part of my life. Even the death of my paternal grandfather didn't seem to bother me very much, as I didn't know him well so therefore couldn't really mourn him. I felt sad that my (other) Nan was now alone after so many decades of having him there (to moan at and nag, but it was just her way with him, doing that shows she cares deeply). But my (maternal) Nana had been living with us for 23 years... and through that time we had faced so many things together, like the death of my Uncle Jim (her youngest son) in a tragic road accident - his car slid on black ice sending his car crashing into a wall, killing him instantly of a broken neck... our money troubles... many and varying health crises, including my Dad needing to be sectioned into psychiatric hospitals wards, twice! Not to mention all of the fun and happy times, like family holidays, day trips, laughing and joking and even silly little things like watching tv or chatting about books... it all adds up, and when it is suddenly not there anymore, it is life changing, and not in a good way.


It is four years since Nana passed on, December 26th 2006, and even now I get upset by the smallest little things. I bought some carnations the other day, and as I bent my head to smell them I was instantly reminded of her, and I had a hard time not bursting into floods of tears in the middle of the crowded supermarket! Nana adored flowers, and gardening, and she always had fresh flowers. Carnations were her favourite, especially pink ones, or the ones with the picotee edges (where the edges are a different colour to the rest of the flower) and chrysanthemums.


It is just seemingly silly little things like that, that still set me off... sometimes I will just sit and cry, even after all these years, because I cannot believe she has gone.

My one regret is that all of her dressmaking knowledge died with her... when I think of what I could have done with just a fraction of the skills she had, I could kick myself 

I've just broken my favourite mug......

... and I'm sat here in tears. It was in the shape of a pumpkin, with ivy around the rim, and I accidentally knocked it off the table and it smashed onto the floor.

I am so upset about it... I loved that cup and I can't get another one.

I'll have to do what I always do when I break cups I love and glue it back together and use it to hold pens.

I still can't believe I did it...

Add another intolerance to the list!!

I knew it would happen and it did... dairy now makes me feel sick!

Is there no end to the growing list of things that I am not able to stomach anymore? So far it reads like this:

Onions (and all members of the onion family including shallots, chives, spring onions/scallions)
Garlic (as it's an allium, like onions)
Eggs
Mushrooms
White flour (in bread, cakes, pies, etc)
Dairy products (milk, cream, butter, ice cream(!), yoghurt, etc).
Also some vegetables leave me feeling like crap, like broccoli, pumpkin and too many brussels sprouts.

Finding foods without any of these in is becoming a nightmare (especially the top three as they cause me real agonising pain)... especially ready meals for those times when you can't be bothered to cook from scratch! I was seriously thinking of becoming a vegetarian again until the intolerances reared their ugly (and painful) heads, but most of the vegetarian products out there, like Quorn, all contain onions or onion powder so I can't eat them... that leaves me with plain tofu, which is nice but needs work to make a meal and soya protein (same as the tofu). By not being able to eat the eggs and dairy I would be a forced vegan if I stopped eating meat... and whereas I can eat fish and chips without a problem (as long as I don't eat the batter around the fish) a vege-burger would have me in agony about two hours later because they all contain onion and/or garlic!

So what do I do? Become a vegetarian as I'd love to do and make my life ten times harder than it already is... or stay eating the meat I can eat (such as white meat, fish, chicken, turkey) and not suffer?

I already feel like a total burden as there are so many things I now cannot eat... and because I can't have them my parents feel guilty for having stuff I can't eat and so they don't eat it either!! Case in point... Mum and I were out shopping the other day and as we were both hungry we decided to go to MacDonalds - it was only as we were in the queue for the drive-thru and unable to turn around that I remembered that I couldn't eat 90% of the things on the menu. All I could have were some fries and a side salad (with balsamic dressing, plus a sweet and sour sauce). As luck would have it, I thoroughly enjoyed it and had seconds... but Mum also had the same as me as she didn't want to eat something that I couldn't have! To say I felt guilty would be an understatement!

But I guess I can do no more than I do... I've told the people around me "if you want something to eat and I can't have it, just eat it... I truly do not mind!"

Another thing that drives me crazy is when I make something for me, and I usually make far too much so that I can have some for another day, or later... and then someone that can eat what they like comes along and says something like "oh, can I have some of that, it looks great" and then helps themselves! I see it as really selfish for people that have their own food and can also grab literally anything they like and eat it without pain, to come along and see the food I have made for my own narrow dietary requirements and just tuck in!! I wouldn't mind if I offered it out, but I don't (and not because I'm a big meanie, but because the food is sometimes five times as expensive as the normal alternative... like my egg free mayo, "they" buy the cheap brand and I have to pay fives times the price for a third of the size, and then they wonder I grumble when they eat mine and still have their own for later!!!)... some people have no shame (and/or very short memories!!)

I'm going to have to put the becoming vegetarian on hold at least for now (and probably permanently if I have no other choice)... guess it is just another thing I can add to the list of "not in this lifetime."

So glad that this week is coming to an end!

I've been so stressed it's not been funny!

I've been due an inspection from Ofsted since I completed a course at the end of January... and I had it yesterday morning. I've been rushing about getting my paperwork into order, fretting about the house being clean and tidy, making sure that anything that could have harmed the kids is out of their reach (even though the kids are never left alone to touch things that could harm them)... and I needn't have bothered! The inspector didn't ask to look at any of that, she never inspected the house, checked the kitchen to make sure it is suitable for food preparation... nothing! All of the things I would have thought to be very important regarding the children (like making sure the house is good enough for them to be in) were never even mentioned! All she cared about was paperwork... and the fact that mine is not as good as it can be (even though I was taught to do it the way I am doing it) and she gave me a Satisfactory (rather than Good or Outstanding, which I didn't care about). Satisfactory means that they will not be back for three to four years and I can get back to doing what I consider more important than drowning in a sea of paperwork... actually having fun and playing with the kids, making sure they are safe and happy and grow up to be good people!

I remember when this job was fun, when I felt excited to get out of bed in the mornings as a new day meant doing new things and seeing the results in the children I cared for. Now, I dread waking up sometimes as I never know if the day will bring more paperwork that I have to have... and every minute I spend with the paper is another minute I don't spend with the kids.I was taught that the "needs of the child are paramount" but Ofsted seem to value paperwork over children and I don't agree with that. I now have to prove on paper that I can do a job I've been doing for 17 years without a complaint!

At one stage I even began to resent the three year old we had just taken on, as his arrival here brought all of the paperwork into effect... how bad is that? He can't help being three, and it was not his fault that he caused me such stress in all of the paper that happened because of his starting with us.

One thing has become clear to me, though, because of all of this... I will never take on another child under the age of six (they have to be in the first real year of school). I am not going to go through this thing again as the paperwork is really beginning to become a burden. It takes away my imagination as all activities have to be planned weeks in advance and in accordance with the statutory guidelines as laid down by Ofsted. That is not the way I work, I see what kids are interested in daily and try and get stuff together that holds their interest... I don't even plan what I'm having for dinner tonight, let alone what I'm going to with the kids a week from now!

All outings also have to have a dry run first, with no kids present and a risk assessment must be done as well... we couldn't even take the kids to the shops as we have to do it first before the kids can go and the route you take when you assess it is the route you have to take on the day - then Ofsted say that the kids have to go out more often (even though it is them that has made doing so so difficult as to be almost impossible!)

You just can't win!

For Nana

Four years ago today you left us and I still miss you more than ever.

Everyday I think of something to say to you that I'm unable to say, and I'd give anything to be able to tell you how much I love you and give you one last hug.

My deepest regret is that we left the hospital to get you more clothes, and you being you, you decided to leave when we had gone! We got a call from the nurse telling us we had better get back to the hospital straight away... and by the time we got there it was too late... you'd gone.

I remember sitting there, staring at you and not knowing what to do... I'd never seen someone I love die before... neither had I ever been near the body of someone that had departed. I felt numb and I was more upset at seeing my Mum upset, as I hate to see her cry and I cry, too.

I tried to be strong that day and afterwards for Mum. I cracked on New Years Eve, when I stood outside the house, watching the fireworks from The Millennium Dome and I just burst into tears, sobbing how much I missed you.

I still do, and I'm trying not to cry now, but I'm failing miserably.

Be at peace, darling, and I pray always that you are with Grandad Jack and Uncle Jim, and that you are happy... wherever you may be.

People ask me why I always wear black, and I tell them I am forever in mourning, as I am and always will be... for you and for others I have lost. It helps me to remember the past, though I try not to dwell in it too much, for I know that you would have hated to see me sad.

Until we meet again, you have my love.

I feel so sad and disappointed right about now...

... as I feel like I've just lost a friend. All because I asked a question, how sad is that?

I would go into more detail, but what is the point, really? It's probably for the best, though I'm having a tough time seeing that it way right now. Do I really want to be at a place that operates under double standards? Not really... I've spent far too much time at xtian forums that do that... "one rule for here and another for there because we say so, so get over it or get out."

Just makes me sad, as I now feel I have no place online to ask questions of, or be in the presence of, other pagan people... so apart from a couple of people I contact through email I guess I'm on my own on my path.

I so wish I'd set up a forum when I had the chance... too late now, though *sigh*

Guess I should get to bed, things will probably look different in the morning and hopefully I won't feel so sad and disappointed - hopefully.