It’s ok…

Travel they say, experience new food and culture, meet new people and see new things. I did. I done it all, and it changes you. I travelled to Kos, with my daughter and I explored the whole island within 3 days. The person who got on the plane to visit Kos, was not the person who got back on the plane and returned to the UK. Whilst I was there i decided to risk everything, I drove on the other side of the road, It was something I didn’t think i could do, but i threw myself into it, like i do most things i want to achieve. Sink or Swim. I laughed, and felt freedom, and a weight lift.

I was in contact with someone fro my past who always had\did make me feel so self conscious, so low. And yet, the people i met there changed my whole perspective of life, love and people. Just because someone shows you no respect, it does not mean that you should not respect yourself. Reality is a perspective of a person, therefore one persons reality is not likened to another or deem able as being ‘right’. I also realised that if someone wants to think bad of you, then thats all they will think, no matter what you do, if that is what they think of you, nothing will change their mind. If people want to find fault in something or someone they will. But you can never gain anything positive from looking at something negative. You can never experience anything positive if you think negatively towards it. And if you never act positive towards something you will always receive a negative reaction. What someone ‘thinks’ you deserves is not what you should think you deserve. Everyone deserves respect and understanding. Anyone can be angry and impatient, it takes a real soulful human being to be kind and understanding. This may seem like a given, but it is not. Just because you can be nice to a stranger or to someone you know or care for it does not make you a good person. If you had a enemy infront of you or someone who had caused you hurt or pain, to be kind to them and understanding despite their misgivings makes you a genuinely good person. If you can tell the truth despite the consequences to yourself you are a good person doing the right thing for someone else. I had not had this in my last relationship. Lying and misguided truths was always a part of his life. Impatiences and lack of compassion or understanding was absent from his blood. Respect and fairness he would preach about but sparsley would show any to those who would show it to him. Ignorance was his morale high ground, and feelings were somewhat of a myth.

I could preach and i could enlighten any soul, but i prefer to say, that through being hurt and disrespected on a continual basis has strengthened me. Through a language barrier between me and a few people i met whilst in Kos i realised so much. Life is as complicated as you make it…… Even if it is raining, “Its ok” because tomorrow it may not, or “Its ok” because you are in your house. If you are hurting or upset with someone “Its ok” because you won’t be always. The amount of times i heard the phrase “Its ok” made me smile, as yes, yes it is ‘ok’. The simplicity of it being ‘ok’ the word being so simply made up of two letters but having such power within them to actually give comfort and a new perspective and reassurance is wonderful.

I played on the beach with leo and Tinisha, Leo taught me how to skim rocks, i was wearing a dress and was knee deep in the beautiful topaz sea. And overtime i could not skim a rock, the phrase came “It’s ok” Everytime it came tumbling out i smiled “Its ok, you can try again” I then seen the metaphor for my life, for every rock i could not skim, for everytime i tried and failed, it was ok, as i just try again. But it was nice to have someone say “Its ok”. My dress was soaking wet, and “It’s ok” because it will dry, and did within half hour. When i was deep in thought, and my mind wandering further than any country i could visit, it is ‘ok’ as for every thought and problem there is a resolution. Leo taught me and made me feel ‘alive’. I walked next to him wanting to touch him, feeling his energy, and feeling something tug in me. He crossed my path, and I crossed his, and I didn’t want to not walk on my path without him. But the end of my stay was hours away. 

When i sat writing my last blog post in the bar in lamb, i cried a little bit as it was a emotional day, a voice heavy with accent spoke “Lu-c why you cry?” i thought i could shed a tear or two without anyone noticing, i could do it in secret. Maybe it was the voice heavy with a accent that could only speak in simple english that allowed me to understand the simplicity of life, and love and the world. Maybe it is good to have fewer words to speak, maybe too many words complicate things too much. Simple English slathered with a heavy accent seemed somewhat refreshing and magical. There are few things in this world that are truly precious, love, respect, and loyalty are among the few i deem precious. Now i add one to this list, it is ‘time’, time and leo. Time is now a whole new level of precious. So is Leo. This last week i have spent time with my daughter, time traveling through a beautiful island, time with beautiful people and time by myself. I have also spend time thinking about things and time watching the world and its interactions. I have spent time listening to peoples stories and experiences and lives and i felt so privileged to of been given the most precious thing they have ‘time’, and they spent it talking to me. It is lovely. The laidback attitude of the people i met was refreshing and beautiful to be. I decided to delete my one email address from my phone as i no longer need to spend time with anything that comes through on that email address. I choose not to spend my time on anyone who thinks i deserve less than what i know i deserve. I decided simple words like “Its ok” are some of the most beautiful words i have ever heard.

And ‘Its ok’ to ask questions, and ask lots, because how else will i get answers, will i understand, will i learn or grow my perspective my knowledge and my beliefs if i do not ask. I always ask people questions, sometimes they are random, sometimes they are personal, other times they are philosophical, i ask because i am curious to how other people are similar or different to me in the way they think, see and have experienced life. For i will always be the girl that asked the questions that made them think more, that made them see that i am not just a pretty girl, I am a curious, fun, intelligent and witty girl. I am a talented, caring and compassionate girl, with a passion and lust for magic and beauty.

For what it is worth to anyone reading this…. and thinking too much or feeling too much “Its ok” it will get better it always does….. but Its ok to feel sad, its ok to feel anger, its ok to feel lost or confused, we are human and its ok to feel, its what we are made to do, to feel, some of us feel so deeply, and its ok because it shows we cared so deeply, loved so deeply and believed so deeply. That is not a bad thing, it is good, as it shows that we are more than what we think we care, and capable of.

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Sparking a Journey

It’s the initial spark, of creativity, of enthusiasm or drive, once that spark is ignited it can rage. Bipolar can be described as having a million tabs on a computer open, I agree, but imagine if all those tabs lets just say ten, for now, those ten tabs are playing different songs all at one time. Then add another ten tabs, and these tabs are playing ten different movies, then another ten that are playing tutorials. Then imagine taking ten different phone calls at the same time and talking and responding to ten different people, all while these other tabs blaze at you. Hard to imagine anything more than ten songs playing at the same time? hard to comprehend? yeah, i have heard people say that. But imagine, if you can, all these open tabs and the phone calls and imagine that you are in a shop shopping, or out with friends drinking, and this is all playing. Uncomprehensible? Yeah, it’s also hell to deal with. That’s minus the added side effect of anxiety, which makes you feel like you are drowning, your breathing becomes shallow, your emotions whirlwind and rip through you like a tornado, and your heart beats so fast, that it makes you feel sick, actually sick. This is bipolar, this is also minus the paranoia of people talking about you, conspiring against you. This is exhausting for a person to deal with, reason people with bipolar end up in a manic state is to try to occupy as much of their focus they can muster into one thing, to keep active, to not be able to think, or rather listen to their thinking. The reason the lows happen is because exhaustion has taken over, the bipolar has one, and the blanket of petrol is suffocating your body, and you are just waiting again for the match to drop the blanket to ignite, just so you can feel something, other than this demonic despair. So a flash of heat can maybe trigger a manic state, so you feel euphoric and alive.

 

I am struggling massively lately with this spark, I have given up uni and i thought straight away I would be able to throw myself into the fire of creativity. It’s not happening. I spoke to my therapist and she said that with any prolonged pressure or injury, there needs to be a recovery time. So this is my recovery time, I thought I would throw myself into reading and writing and editing and photography, and my business, but I can’t. Not yet. It feels like any minor activity is a triumph, even going to the post office or out of the house. But as long as I am doing ‘something’ i am told that it is helping my recovery. So I research photographers, I look at art I am inspired, I have compiled a book of drawings which i will turn into photographs, and blog posts to accompany them. I am spending a lot of time with my Dad, as it feels safe to be around him, and my uncle. I am focusing on the day, and not the tomorrow, and I am enjoying nice hot long baths. But motivation at the moment is absent, and so is the confidence to do anything. Another perk of bipolar or manic depression. I have contemplated reducing my pill’s, and tempting a manic episode so I can kick start the motivation. Though I haven’t as I don’t want to burn out, I want to be steady, or as steady as I can be.

 

This image is to represent that although you can have many great ideas, many great aspirations and goals, sometimes the timing of achieving them is not as important as the journey in which you will achieve them.

Compartmentalisation …..

Well, hello.

For those who read these things heres a few lessons….life is a puddle and you human made up of 97% water. To live you need to drink. So whether that be sicking, sipping, splashing, or face-planting that puddle to truth of the matter is the puddle is your means to living. So instead of saying life sucks, stop sucking from the puddle and splash in the damn thing. I have learnt it is sometimes what you need to do to smile while you are staying to survive.

‘Triggers’  – So I am bipolar. Hate being labelled but i have to admit i am learning things i wouldn’t if i wasn’t. Thats got to be good right? Well I know everyone has triggers to things that make them angry or sad. Well, I have a massive trigger that doesn’t so much trigger my emotions as my moods. Its kids. Other peoples, I cant stand them. To be around them or to even look at them. I have never been the most maternal woman in the uterus, and my uterus now is literally just for show. But it is children, they affect me so bad. I think its because as a person with bipolar i need stability and to a certain degree, control. Control of who is around me, as adults, their behaviour is somewhat more stable than a child. I recently went to a trampoline centre with my daughter and a friend. I had no intention of jumping on trampolines and my anxiety wasn’t the best (social situations another major trigger) However i was in the indoor centre less than two minutes before i bolted quicker, faster and more wild than any horse. What is it with screeching kids? Kids who scream. I cannot handle it, whether it be with fun or pain, or upset I cannot stand the screeching of a child. Now im sure a few of you think this maybe callus. But, as a woman a human I am entitled to say as I please and to not feel guilty for how i feel. I do not like other peoples children. I have no control over them so if the parent becomes angry at the child in my presences my mood plummets as then i have to be around a crying, or screeching or sulking or tantrum throwing child. The adult seems to go oblivious to this where as im in hell. The fact also some parents choose not to discipline their children ( i do not mean beating them, but being able to warn them that their behaviour will have consequences should they continue) So the child just goes around, ( in my house is the worse) with as much respect or regard for personal space as genital warts. This makes me detach so much from the people and children. I just want them gone as soon as possible. Which i suppose is why i never work  (photograph) children. As parents seem to think this thing that escaped their ball sack, or fell from their uterus is the most perfect thing in the universe, and does not need any moulding or refining. This is why society is slowly being ruined. Parents like these. Which in-turn makes me not like venturing out into society, as there are ‘these’ parents and ‘these’ children.  This may seem like such a harsh blog, but to those who know me i never sugar coat anything, for anyone. I am not that person.

So my ‘trigger’ is children, other peoples as they affect my mood so quickly and so intensely. Its the younger children more the 5yr old and under i suppose. Yes, those. I seem to be anxious around children which slowly begins to drain my emotions. Should this carry on for a prolonged period, just from this encounter alone, the following day i feel drained and numb. A bit dazed and not connected to reality. I find my friends children the worse, opposed to strangers children. Though some strangers children have that ‘i don’t care who you are’ attitude towards them and will just outright be a spoilt little brat. But friends children see me as more familiar…. which I do not like. As they then feel more comfortable to display negative behaviour around me which makes me become completely cold towards my friends as i want them to leave. Its a trigger. A trigger that always puts me in a mood I do not like. Its a trigger that will then ‘fuck me’ over the next day as the anxiety, the caution, the annoyance and the combusting anger i have to supress drains me so bad, i cannot cope with life the next day.  So another little lesson I learn is how much emotional impact things can have on me that i have not paid attention to before. The way a friend can argue with his/her partner on the phone, and if i am there and stuck (i have no car to escape in) it becomes a ‘trigger’ that emotional impacts me so bad that i don’t want to see that person again for a good few days. Because, to be honest, If i wanted to witness or be involved in a argument i would create one or i would watch people argue. It takes me hours to even be able to even smile after being subjected to that. Which then makes personal relationships difficult. As you don’t just get into a relationship with the person you like. You have to get involved in a relationship with their mother or father and siblings and friends. NOOOOOOO THANK YOU. As people come with their own problems, work, job, house, issues, and normal things. Which i can handle, but then their parents or siblings or friends are somewhat attached and bring their issues to the person you are in a relationship with… which then means you have to deal with them, although you didn’t sign up for that shit. Well i never do. I think of it like, your family? Is your family, your problem part of your life to deal with. ( don’t get me wrong if their mother needed a blood transfusion and i was a match i would do it in a heartbeat, but thats because i’m a good person, not because i like other peoples families. Other peoples mothers fathers etc have that attachment that warped perspective of their child or sibling and their loyalties will always be with them, not matter if you marry their son, friend or sibling. It is just the way it is. SO i learnt my lesson. Just  be civil and polite, avoid family gathering and social events, as this is just another situation whereby (if they know you have a mental health issue you are not judged, and you wont be put in situations that ‘trigger’ your mood to spiral) PERFECT SOLUTION to me. That way i have my own little world with my partner he still has his own friends and family etc and i have mind. There is no need for them to cross, or  burden our relationship as a couple or each other.  As lets face it when your relationship breaks down with your partner and it never really ends amicable not straight away anyway, then any relationship you have with THEIR family, THEIR friends breaks down too. FACT.

One thing in which i have decided to do it to be more selfish. I have decided if a mother of mine cannot be bothered to text or to phone me, or ask how her granddaughter is. That is ok. That is fine. I will not chase after a relationship with someone just because I have alike DNA to them. Neither shall i be bitter at the parent who puts a wedge between her two daughters and granddaughters by only bothering with one lots and not the other. That is her choice and i respect that. It saves me having to listen to the mother whine about the other daughter or bills that everyone has to pay and to turn such trivial things into such overpoweringly dominate things to create drama is mind-blowing to me. Life is complicated enough without wanting to complicate it even more. Any one with any form of intelligence in my opinion should consider two things when facing a problem or potential problem.

1) Can i control the problem or situation or change it?  If the answer is no, then accept it and move on.

2) Can i control or change or alter this problem and the way I feel? If the answer is yes, you can. Then do it, nobody needs to know about it, nobody really cares but you when it comes down to it, so quit wasting time and sort it. problem solved. Time saved. Be happy again.

Some lessons are learnt the hard way, some lessons are never learnt. The only lesson we should ever be taught both at home and in school is – ‘You have one life, so does every one around you, one day they will leave or you may. Do your best to leave them with good memories and a positive impact and you only get one ‘true’  chance with someone, any other chances are just because the person is polite, not because you deserve it’

Now i will bore you a little with his image and my concession of recent images, which i think have a additional element within them. The Art. I do like photo manipulation but the process from;

sourcing dresses

making props/buying them

to finding a location/another model

to taking the photogrpah setting up, ensuring all angles are covered etc

to them coming home syncing in lightroom and then editing

between taking coffee breaks, replying to texts, altering my you tube playlist

sourcing stock images or rummaging on my hard-drives for mine.

To the naming layers the lighting balancing and the sewing together seamlessly about twenty different photos I am then left with one image upon my screen. That i usually am never completely satisfied with.

But……….These last few of heavily manipulated photos i have been happy with. They are not as emotionally throat punching as my portraits. I like that. As sometimes even i look at some of my Portraits and I am like…WOW…FUCK LUC thats deep, or dark or rendering. Whereas alot of my heavily manipulated photos have more of a story….. than a emotion. But still can be something of a emotional piece if one attaches a emotion like the one that inspired me to create said image. So These last few images have been about change, rebirth, enlightenment and somewhat cleansing myself. My mental health hit a pinnacle point. And the only thing that calmed or soothed me and let me escape from reality was editing. As anyone who knows anything about lightroom or photoshop will understand how complex a interface it can be. A friend or two has helped, James because he is the Angel that has been ripped of wings and condemned to live on earth…..Poor sod. And more unfortunate for him he crossed my path a few years ago. But a kindred soul he is, and the person who is helping me to create a utopia out my garden, now my dog has died. I love a graveyard and James is helping me cast tombstones and lay some grass. I am so excited for this, i cannot comprehend the words. Not the fact i will have this graveyard out my garden but the fact he suggested we do it, and that he is the one pushing for it…. and the fact whenever i shall sit in my garden, James will always be the memory that i remember. The memories we shall create, casting and practicing, painting and laying the memories that make people the worst kind of people when they leave…. as then i’m left with painful splinters of memories that hurt every time they are remembered. Then i have a beautiful friend who isn’t a close friend but she is close enough and long enough old a friend by almost twenty years to know that my child will always be safe for as long I need that security should anything happen to me. There are a precious few people who come into your life and never leave… sometimes just sitting on the side lines. Then you have other people who cross your path… and you learn something from them… They never stay, they never mean what they say. So to those people, the door was open, now it is closed. Another chance i’m sure will arise because i’m polite, but the ‘true’ chance has a headstone in my garden ready to be laid.

These recent pieces of Art have not been inspired by sadness, as much and many of my images are…. but of progress, each one I am climbing unsteady chairs…. Or morphing from a human to a raven, symbolising freedom. The dark within me being wild and taking flight. The elements of nature, Earth, Air , Fire and water…. and me…..’Spirit’ The symbolic blue dress is the morpho butterfly i adore. Which cycles through a life recently like mine, Or I, like its. The UNKNOWN, was a image whereby i walk down steps and hands from beneath the slates wait hungrily for me. This was massively to do with a brief interaction I had with a man. He was the unknown, and I was walking blind. Lesson learnt. The puppet, and puppeteer with my Tim burton styled background, symbolised a lover i once had. Who showed me what i could have a lover and a happy life, but he was in control and it was never a situation that he proved we would ever be in. So i left. This was shortly followed by the skeleton and I sat on the floor. The skeleton my ex lover, the smoke from his cigarette another girl he would bring between us…. and me. It was me seeing what our relationship really meant to him, those precious memories, of laughing smoking and drinking coffee were nothing more than wasting time. The Egg timer and I, Is where my fears lie. This was me acknowledging my mental health was rapidly fading, and the less time i had, the more erratic i became. Then the last one within my ‘Progress’ images was me sat up against a wall with my demons, and how i fell back into their traps… how they laugh and mock, how the light in the corner seems like a escape… but misery loves company, and i know that I am not alone, with my demons, but in the light, in the scape, in the new batch of pills, i may never again find me.

So this is me…. and today, I like me. Someone gave me my smile back, and a happiness in my heart… but tomorrow they have the claws to tear it apart… lets see what becomes of us……

They are alive……

Its a one oclock blog again. I wonder why I do these blogs. I wonder who reads them, if anyone, and what they think. These are seconds that last for a moment and i am cautious of what i say. Then like the ticking of a clock my fingers sing on a keyboard and everything pours. I don’t like to think too much. As its never good. Not for me anyway. Relationships are funny things, you take two humans. These are from different walks of life, different values and experiences and throw them together. I always view the start of a relationship as a ……. Child playing with clay. When she has moulded her visions she then plays with them in her imaginary world of pretend. I think thats what we do, or I at least. I have a pretend world where i have made my clay man. To keep him there i have to play fair. To keep him strong and not for him to crack and crumble i have to understand the way he was made. But i don’t. I don’t understand me. So I am at a loss before i could ever conceive to win. Then in my pretend world everything is great. We can mould each other and smooth over the cracks. But in actuality it doesn’t get smoothed over. I choose my human and decided to love him and play with him in my pretend world. But i knew reality would make him crumble. I am just convincing myself i am now unloveable. Its not really the greatest ego boost that my ex cheated on me for two years and for the last year he still couldn’t be faithful. He would flirt with girls and send such pictures i would find out and feel sick. He handed me complex after complex and insecurities that made me shake.  Then i met another man, he was broken and not whole. I think i attract them you know.

I always saw a relationship of a somewhat unity. A team. If i was going to war the person i was with i would want on my platoon as i know they have my back. Yet i dated a guy a bullet, thats engraved and i wear it around my neck. It has a message inscribed but it was in the language he knew so a lie. I decided that I would wear it not because i love him, but because it was one of the many bullets in his gun that killed me and made me weak. But At least i knew he would never leave me. Then i met this other guy. No insecurities, no girls perfection could of been a good word. But then i spiralled and i fell and i descended to hell. Now my demobs are happy as they have me back. It was quiet lovely really how they welcomed me back. They stay up all night with me, and if ever i need company they are always there. I married demons so i can never marry a man.

I confided in a friend of what made me spiral. And as a friend does they show concern. It was nice to acknowledge the disease i have investigated and learnt thats eating me. Ooooooooh no this time its not my mind. This time its not my bipolar. I think if it wasn’t for my bipolar i maybe worse. I have the disease that consumes so many and that the word alone instills fear. It actually made me freeze. My blood ran so cold a splinter of ice must of pierced my heart, as i gasped for air. Cancer i dare. The womanly parts of me are being eaten alive. Im twenty nine and i have a unbalanced mind and a disease eating me alive. The insecurities rise and i feel bile thrown at the back of my throat. I could cry but i haven’t yet. Not over the thing that i just learnt. I think i’m numb or still coming to terms with this vile thing harbouring inside my womb. Like a spawn of satan i’m nurturing it and letting it feed on me. I am a beautiful host.  I actually can feel my breath unsteady as i filter through this truth. I admitted this two two people. Two which i trust and love and know would do anything to see me smile. But still i sit here in my ex boyfriends zip through hoodie, it faintly smells of him. Wearing dungarees bought for me as a sorry from the cheating ex, and the things i am wearing which look the best are fresh scars. Another chapter of my fucked up life. There was a time where my life was quiet happy and calm. Oh dear lord i wish for that again so bad. The marrow of my bone ache for it. They also ache for a warm embrace. But i know to be hugged would leave this little fighter with a tear stained face.

When it was revealed what i now have to face the cancer of a woman’s delicate place I was shocked nad scared then last night at 5 am i sat out my back garden. The stars weren’t too bright, but the warmth of the night kept me company. The sounds of cars passing on the road behind me made me smile. I wonder how their life differes from mine. I thought about writing, but couldn’t bare to hold my favourite pen. Then a thought crossed my mind, what if this is a pleasure of my life. I have contemplated suicide and attempted it a few more. What if now, ‘This’ disease is here to save and finish me. In a dignified way of course. As suicide is always a frowned upon course. Maybe i have created the work i was suppose too…. release the poems and art i should. Maybe i have changed a few lives, as i know a few have changed mine. I have done alot of good i know in my life, and been a good person to those i know and those i don’t, and those who haven’t deserved my time, but at least if I am lowered into the earth they will know they got more than they deserved and i can sleep peaceful. I tear slide down my face and the smile spread across my face. I own my thoughts and thats what i love about me, I’m not afraid to challenge those of a narrow or closed mind, not to win a argument but to enlighten their life’s. I have handed my notice into three magazines i write for and two support groups i run, one for young kids with self harm issues and one for support and counselling for parents of children who self harm and who have a mental disorder. My own mother do not even know of these jobs, or where i give my time willingly. My own mother knows nothing of my illness as i don’t see the point, she never made me feel ok or accepted for having a mental disorder. So why would she want to support me now, when she can just ignore and spend time with the ‘normal’ child she has. I am not bitter a part of me was. But i know i have done nothing wrong not to deserve what she has or has not done as the case stands. I am due now to turn down the book offer to have a book published, which i started to write. AS i don’t want to be stressed out right now. Writing books are hard. I have my university papers sat on my desk ready to submit to finish my last year. Even though when i printed them off i knew….. spending some time alone has made me think what do i want to be doing for a year? travelling,……… or photographing a series or two that will will remain should anything happen to me. As it’s not as simple as scrape and remove and then a few appointments to ensure things have been cut away. So maybe i will read, read every book i wanted to read. I will travel, travel to the places i want too. Maybe i will visit a few close friends who have been there from the start of my photography journey before i even knew it was a path i would go on to choose.

 

I will visit one man before the year is out. This time four and a half years ago, a man gave me the greatest tip in the world. (shadows) This man has a piece of my heart today. And i want to hold him in a embrace and thank him. For when i have doubted my work, my direction, the purpose of it all….. My darling Luca is there with his Italian charm. He has lasted longer than relationships and gave me more joy than most of them.  And even though i hate Germany, I will find him there.

 

Tomorrow i go and drive for a hour to a tattoo studio to be tattooed. The artist is amazing and I am dying to having this piece on me as for six years i have been in love with the concept of the piece. And i finally put it together and now i get to have a beautiful memoir of it. Then i will have my favourite poem inscribed on my thigh…. a quote or two more and when i lay on the slab or a cold mortuary cradle… I hope they read my tattoos and admire my artwork…. I will be a beautiful corpse in death as i was in life.

Now to try and sleep as seven hours of sleep in five days is something thats killing me. Stopping on lot of medication to be able to undergo treatment is a wonderful way to test my instability. But hey, it makes good pictures…. so at least my instability and insanity will never leave me….. never thought i would say i was actually grateful for that.

 

 

You’ll find me among the souls of tombstones

I hold my breath under water sometimes and i see how long i can stay under water and holding my breath. Not because i want to beat my own best score or I’m even timing the minutes. I do it because a self destructing streak in me wants to see how far i can push me.. when the panic kicks in, when the heart beat quickens, when my body writhes fighting for air. Then I gasp up from the water choking on freshly breathed air. I have no fear of death, some days i welcome it, other days i envy the peace i will one day find in it. I actually love to be around it. I have decided as tomorrow will be a beautiful day and i have uni work to do, that instead of a coffee shop or library …I will go with my books to my favourite place with coffee ………….A graveyard. There are the most beautiful graveyards around here. Some are very old, some beautiful and kind of new, others are unkept and sing with a whistle of decades ago. I know them all, and love them all equally. Tomorrow shall be cathays graveyard, tomorrow i will walk for a while, past Henry Williams and his Wife, Iris. I will tilt my head and sigh, to be buried with your lover in death and to spend a mortal life with them alive is really something i admire. I will walk then further down the the stone with barely etched words and wonder what was their first name. Then come the trees and they give oxygen to the living and shade to the dead. Their roots curling round corpses caskets and keeping them safe. I can’t help but think of stories and rhymes, picture who they were and what their life was. I also think of what will become of me, a casket or a pod that will turn into a tree or will i be burnt and scattered somewhere.

 

The graveyard will be my retreat for a few hours of soul aching peace. Their is a certain energy in a graveyard …. I think so anyway. I will place down my coffee and choose one of my favourite spots under a tree. Then i will wait for the caretaker who is always fond of me to tell me at quarter to five he’s closing up. Sometimes he lets the gate at the bottom open for me …. and to let myself out when i please. I never leave it later than eight to slip through the gate. Sometimes people just know you need that extra time. Think its the look people can see in your eyes. So many places to hid and mine is a cemetery it calms my soul and mind. And makes me appreciate life.

 

 

The man….and me.

I have said before i do not blog enough. The bipolar i blame, for when i am manic i cannot write I’m too busy to be bothered. When I am low I am too disconnected and in a blanket of despair to write. Even though my lows are my most creative times, when i say creative i mean for writing poetry. I pour my emotions out on pictures of sunsets that day that have made me smile or made my heart a little less heavy to pull around. Then i have mu twitter which i have now changed to a different name in the hopes it remains anonymous somewhat from people who stalk it and condemn me for what i write. Even though its true. He was a lying cheating careless bastard. Anyway then i have my Facebook profile which i post very little on personally as i have a lot of people i do not know too well. Then i have my stagnate Facebook page that hasn’t see a new image in months. I haven’t picked up my camera for about three months. That is so unlike me, though i pick it up on Saturday to photograph a wedding. Not my creative hobby or outlet, but it pays the bills, makes me believe in love again if only for that one day. It means i cane be around people celebrating this wonderful day and present photos that will last a lifetime.

 

So for three months i have not used my outlet to photography anything. I did take it away on a spa break with my now Ex but again i did not take any images. The motivation was not there even though the ideas were. The visual picture was in my mind yet it never materialised into anything more. Normally after a break up (or three thousand with my ex) i would pick up my camera and pour my emotions into a image. Edit it. Release it and be freed as a prisoner from the pain the consuming emotions. Yet because of my bipolar i haven’t. I have had my medication adjusted and i have two new therapists. One of which i am so indebted too. I always thought therapy was a cop out for people who cannot deal with their own shit. And was full of proteins therapist with more certificates and text book intelligence and knowledge than actual experience. I was wrong or i struck it lucky this time. I wrote her a email from the contact page on her site. It was about 3 am in the morning and suicidal wasn’t even a close enough description of what i felt. I wanted to die, but suicide brings shame to ones family, so i imagined that night all the accidents i could be in, to maintain my families dignity. And keep the secret that i willed the house fire and laid in bed waiting for my death with excited anticipation. I didn’t know what to write in the email, do you introduce yourself as a person with a mental health disorder or do you just say hey i need your help i think i lost my mind, fancy helping me find it. Ill pay you. Or do you pour your heart out and if nothing else, and deal with the judgement and embarrassment? Well i took the risk and spilled my heart all over her contact sheet. As i slowly fell into my sleep i could only hope that there was some miracle in her reply. There was.

We met to see if i felt comfortable, as i don’t normally.  Yet i did instantly. I think it was more to do with the fact that i was utterly desperate for help or a solution that i would of trusted Hitler if he had said he had a cure. Four weeks ago i was that bad. Now? Im not better I’m not cured, I’m more stable and a bit happier, i have more confidence and i actually have learnt so much about myself. Its actually quite scary as i always thought myself as very self aware. Even the therapist commented on how self aware I am. I learnt a lot about my last relationship which has left me really messed up. I learnt about transference and can identify when this was happening. Even so much as a few weeks ago. I had a nasty email, which is a regular occurrence from the ex when we aren’t together and he hasn’t got some girl talking to him as a distraction. Or when he’s bored of them, or fed up of pretending to be a nice person, as he must find that exhausting.  It was about me having therapy and i had said that he has issues and through my therapist reading emails and text messages from the last few months that i had printed off that he has issues and would benefit from seeking help. He’s still in denial theres anything wrong with him, all the blame goes on other people. He hates guilt and obligation. Anyway I told him i was getting help to sort my issues out and the ones he had left me with and i was going to see my therapist on Wednesday at her house.  I normally see her in Cardiff bay, but she works on a self employed basis so she has a room off the main building of her house in which she uses as some people do not like the clinical feel. These people are normally her regulars and people who live closer or find it easier to travel to where she is. Anyway my negative ex proceeded in his email to tell me that she was not a real therapist if she had people at her house. That the price i was paying i was getting ripped off and the fact she seen he had issues just looking over his messages and emails shows she is unqualified. So there we go there is the introduction to my Ex instead of being supportive he was putting me down, my decisions and my experiences based on his…….???? exactly he’s never seen a therapist, God knows he should. But he always said I make up things in my head and go to war with them, that i take fictional stuff and use it as reality. Or my favourite one was that i had no logic in the way i think. I think his quote was ‘ You are one of the most intelligent people i have ever met, but you are the dumbest fuck to as you have no logic’ Exactly how would your mum and dad feel about him being around the dinner table? Parents are right for a lot of reasons.

So Tell me even though he has no experience or knowledge of therapists or their work its LOGICAL for him to make up FICTIONAL ASSUMPTIONS regarding what i know as fact. The thing I’m having therapy for is because of how manipulative he was and how he would always make me doubt my decisions and logic and thoughts. Quite sick really. I feel sick knowing it. I didn’t think the same as him, and he would always use my metal illness as thats why he was right and i was wrong. If its said enough times along with discriminating names and insults you kinda believe it. I did.

SO four weeks with my therapist, and people do think different to one another, thats why the word argument/debate exists thats why there are discussions in a relationship and compromise because people think different. These are based on the persons childhood experiences, family, culture, and many even beliefs. They are based on interpretation of situations experience with situations, knowledge and education level of people, peoples likes and dislikes. And ITS OK. It is ok to think and interpret the world differently to the person in-front of you at the queue, the neighbour, the family member the step parent the husband the boyfriend the bloody homeless man on the street. And each persons interpretation and opinion is as valuable as the other persons. It should not be degraded, devalued, disregarded or should it be seen as wrong. Or used as a tool to control or discriminate against. ITS OK. Thats what i have learnt its ok. Its ok that I believe that when we end our relationship and he flirts and sends explicit messages of himself to girls and receives them in return that i am right to see it as wrong, disrespectful and sleazy. Why am i ok to think this is right? because based on who I am, i do not do that to him, i do not degrade myself or our relationship when we end by causing myself more damage. I have more respect for myself that to expose my body to strangers, for them to masturbate over. I have more respect for myself as a woman and a lady to masturbate over pictures of a stranger opposed to sorting my relationship or issues out. I do do such things as i know if me and my partner resolve issues that i would feel terrible knowing what i had done. That the most intimate parts of my body that i pledge to someone i love have been carelessly given to a stranger. I have more respect for my partner for myself for my female counterparts. I am right to behave this way as my morals and principals tell me that sleazy type of behaviour is damaging to myself to other and to my relationship and any potential reconciliation i would have. This makes me think that I am right and what he is doing is wrong. As i have a different set of beliefs and morals and mature experience and respect towards myself and my relationship and partner/ex partner.

Now the opposing story i have been told when i have found out my partner/ ex partner has been doing this just hours after our break up is ‘I wanted to take my mind of you’ ‘I missed you’ I liked the attention’ ‘Its easier to talk to girls’ ‘I never physically done anything with them’ – Now these were a few of the lame excuses I was told. I was essentially disgusted at how willingly girls would send such pictures and act in such a trampy way. I was devastated that he would do this and it would make me feel worthless, competing with other girls who i classed as ‘skets’ a bit like slags. I found myself not wanting to argue or displease him in fear of him doing this again and me feeling so low. I also felt very ashamed of him as a partner. As the thought of passing one of them girls in the street after him and her had been so intimate made me feel sick. How could i hold my head high and say i have a decent gentlemen that treats me with respect when i – an she would know different. This happened 90% of the time in our break ups. Yet i was at fault for when we broke up accusing him of doing something like this again, when the probability was high. And then was i suppose to be grateful if he didn’t? I remember saying to my friend one day over coffee ‘******** has been good not flirted or talked to another girl in 6 weeks’ My friend was disgusted by the sentence that left my mouth and then so was I. When did i become the person that i was grateful for my partner to be loyal and faithful and not lie. AS lying was his first language, bullshit his second, manipulation this third and English his fourth. Its funny as he always wanted to speak another language yet he didn’t see how many he was already fluent in. Anyway, I looked closer to him and not myself. HE was perverted to be alone in his car or studio and be having lonely hand wanks over images of girls he didn’t know. He had no respect for himself or these girls, or me. He had no standards or morals or principals. He would talk to these girls and manipulate them into sending him pictures. He had no feelings for them apart from maybe a dick twitch that needed releasing. It was him that acted in a way i wouldn’t of and if i had acted in the same was as him JESUS CHRIST i would be all the whores and slags and disgusting whores going. Double standards right? Do you smell hypocrisy like i do now? It wasn’t that he missed me or wanted a distraction from me. It was when i would end us or walk away I took with me his power. His power to control me, to use me, I took it away. I wouldn’t obey him, or be manipulated by him or please him. Sooooooo what does a control freak need to do?. control! So he used another girl to manipulate to control, and that would obey him so he wouldn’t feel as if he lost his power.

I sit here writing this and wonder if i should even hit the send button and let this be torn apart by the world, read and picked over. If i should be ashamed of the person i was to stay with him to take so much….. or if it will reach some other girl and she will actually see… theres nothing wrong with her the problem does not lie with her but with him. Its a harsh realisation but one that sets you on a journey. See the most prominent thing i learnt from this is that my Ex liked to be someone else. As he was a very unhappy, insecure person. I found a lot of closure from someone he knew. I understand his childhood but i won’t use it as a excuse for his behaviour. We all have choices as adults. What we choose to do what action we choose to take defines us as who we really are. A excuse afterwards does not change that you have been a twat. It just makes it easier for you to get out of the guilt or not face up to who you really are. I remember him saying to me ‘ I can make anyone fall in love with me’ ‘I can get anyone i want’ – at first i thought what a ego and arrogance.

NOW? I see if you have the skills to manipulate and the insecurities most people have you transform into a monster. You play a role, you act, you become someone that the other person you are talking too wants to see. Everyone believes in love and are romantics all a guy has to do is press the right buttons. And he will if he has the skills and insecurities mine had. Thats why he liked talking to these girls and flirting as they didn’t know who he was, what he was capable of, they didn’t know him like i did. They didn’t know about his violent temper, his acid tongues ( he had his spilt in two, kinda ironic as he was a snakey bastard) They didn’t know the names he would not hesitate to lash you with how he would always keep you below him so he felt above you. That he would be so mean, that he was a compulsive lair, a person on medication for his temper and undiagnosed mental health disorder. He would not tell these girls he had a girlfriend ( oh yes he done it when we were together as well) he would even tell them that i was a stalker? I was his girlfriend of two years! But this boy would not want anyone to see him in a bad light. JESUS CHRIST HES SAINT FUCKING PAUL.  He couldn’t get away with the pretence with me, i knew he was a liar i knew what his hands felt like and i knew what his tongue was capable of and his controlling ways. These girls didn’t. That was the part he liked the best as he could for those couple of moments or hours pretend to be the person i believe he would like to be, but for whatever reason he choses not to be.

After three years i walked, I don’t want to go back, I should of left nine months into our relationship when i found out he was still seeing his ex… and six months after that when he was still seeing her and they were both lying cunts. I don’t blame her so much now, she was only told what he told her. She was stupid for believing him as i never did…. but thats another story. Its weird she hurt me so much and so did he, she had no loyalties to me and neither should she of…. she wasn’t my girlfriend, my friend or anything. But he was. Yet i still stayed with him. And for a while i was the only girl in his world. But that wasn’t enough, and i realised id never be enough for him. Because he wasn’t happy in himself about himself to be happy with someone else. He didn’t love himself so how could he love someone else. How can you receive love from another person if you can’t love yourself. He will never be happy or content. He wants to travel and i believe he should, it may make him grow up, it may make him see his issues. Though i have found out he has a new girlfriend.

 

Did this come as a shock, yeah in a way. Its only been five weeks since we split. An only four days since he stopped emailing. But yes she seems naive and she seems like a hopeless romantic. So he don’t have to manipulate her that much. He probably didn’t introduce himself by saying he was convicted of assault on his ex girlfriend or that he has a restraining order to not go near his ex girlfriend. He probably won’t tell her how early he split from me, and he probably won’t tell her the languages he speaks fluently. Poor Sarah thats all i can say. She has it all to come. And does a part of me want to reach out and save her from what i endured how fucked up i got and all his other exes, yes. What stops me? The fact he speaks fluent bullshit, compulsive lair amongst the others. Why don’t i save her? Because some people do not want to be saved, he didn’t want to be saved or changed. He improved massively and everything he got to this day in some way comes from me, from his job and his car from his travel destinations and more pronounceable vocabulary, from the way he dresses and holds himself in new company. The way he views certain things. I know in years to come he will love back and say ‘fuck, she loved me so purely’ And i did. I never wanted nothing from him, just love trust and honesty the foundations of any relationship. I just wanted a guy to look at me and see the potential we had. I gave him everything, my home, my heart, my time, my forgiveness, my family my car, my daughter, my passion, my knowledge, my beliefs i gave him all of me. I even gave him my mind to own. And now i have to heal it myself.

I was so upset when i found out he had ‘moved on’ as neither one of us ever does, we never physically do anything with anyone, and he never took it to the next level of giving his number out or meeting in person. And after a few days the girls he’s talking to loose their flavour to him. And he always came back to me. In a way i thought i had his heart, thats why he came back, as he knew how much i meant to him. I hoped this i suppose. As all us fools do. I thought enough flavourless girls would make him see that i was the best choice out of them all and he would change his ways. I hoped that he would see every time he hurt me yet i would take him back it was because i loved him. Not that i won some game. Just that i loved and believed enough in him to help him change. But I just wasted time and opportunities. Now he’s found someone else and we will never be the same, i will never look at him the same. And when i found out i cried, i cried so hard infant of my friend i let her hug me and i sobbed on the floor with her arms around me holding me up.

I went to see my therapist yesterday and i told her. I cried again and asked why the fucking hell was i crying and sad when i wouldn’t get back with him now!! why do i feel so emotional after i know i don’t want US back. For £60 a hour this is what i got….

 

“A person stands infront of two doors….

The one door she is told hell and pain is behind there her worst fears….

The other door….. no one knows what is behind it….. he doesn’t no or will she until she opens it and walks in and clicks it shut behind her.

-Most people choose hell and pain and their worst fears because as humans we develop coping mechanisms and a tolerance to these experiences these pains. We have a idea of what to expect so have a idea of how to deal with it. Its better the devil you know sometimes.”

 

I broke down crying so hard i emptied her box of tissues. I was sad because my option ‘ better the devil i knew’ was now taken away. I knew from him and overtime i took him back how he would act, treat me, what to expect, how i would feel, how i had developed coping mechanisms how i have a developed a tolerance to the pain or a immunity. I was upset that now if i didn’t like being on my own, i couldn’t go back to my devil. He brought me good and bad fear and anxiety, he took my insecurities and made them a reality then would condemn me for them.  Now i have no anxiety, I have no bad to expect, as i have no one to expect it from. No one is going to hurt me, i have good coming from my projects. I have a mobile home that i will start traveling in, in April then do Europe in In September till i decide to come home. Also i have flights booked to Iceland and a few other destinations. I have no insecurities as I’m not competing with any girls or the person i love will not betray me. I have no one insulting me or my bipolar disorder. I have no one being nasty and mean to me. I have no anxiety of him slipping up or being interested in another girl. And not just another bump but the bandages from all the other ‘mistakes, slip ups, girls, flirting’ are ripped off bringing everything back and killing me all over again. I have no one putting me down controlling me or messing with my mind. If i think different to someone else THATS OK it human nature to think different, no two people are the same. I have accomplished more in these five weeks since not being with him than i realised.

I have rebuild a relationship with my mum, which i appreciate and hold dear, i have strengthen the relationship between my daughter and I. I have a wonderful positive relationship with my Dad. I have bought a mobile home, gutted it refurbished it and i love it. Its a little home i can take anywhere with me. It has a coffee machine and it has everything i love thats quirky and me. I have emptied my attic of all my exes things. They have all been taken to the tip when i gutted the caravan. From his Cds to his furry throw. Everything of him has gone, pictures and gifts i have taken down. Not because i am bitter but because they don’t mean anything no more they are a anchor or reminder of a period in my life i no longer want in my present. I have had a book offer for my novel. I have a lot of weddings booked. I have projects lined up and i had the passion light up inside me when i was in therapy tomorrow when it came to a photoshoot. I have had male attention and a lot of it, it was nice and it felt strange. I have pushed it all away, no one i want to talk to or give my precious time to at the moment apart from myself. I am investing in a new camera. I am  writing a lot of poetry and i feel inspired with it, a freeing from it. I have three tattoos booked in for the tenth of march one to be reworked/covered and two new ones. I have developed a sense of self again. I have my appointment with my nurse ad i think i am going to have a bit of botox. I have my new silver/grey hair i have wanted for the last six months. I have new medication and I have new friends. And my old one i love to the marrow of her bones. I am investing in a new website so i can house my photography and poems and travels. I want to have somewhere to call my own, and i have a few more poems that are awaiting publication. I have learnt how to apply make up too……Every day it gets better. Even when I’m sobbing its still better because I’m learning and realising things about myself…… And my therapist is great. No matter what anyone else thinks she is having a positive impact on me… which means i can be positive around others and live my life…..

The better the devil i knew has gone so now…I have the unknown to venture through, to make my life and include in it whatever i want. Sometimes someone crosses your path and blows your world apart your emotions and mental stability. Because how else are you meant to put it all back together how you want to, how you deserve, and know what you deserve, if you don’t learn. My picture is not complete and I’m rebuilding my world….. while he is talking to a girl…. when the flavour fades i hope he sees a therapist and heals himself one day. Theres enough negative and bad people in this world, he should not want to be one too.

 

 

It was for the best…..

Sometimes, only sometimes can i say i have done something for the best and it hasn’t worked out that way. It is true everyone who fights a war thinks they are right. No one person, decent person would choose to make a decision for the wrong reasons, for themselves and others to suffer. I have crossed paths with many people and discovered alot about myself and the world i live in. Not every discovery has been met with welcomed arms, and fondest memories. People included. But its the way we are shaped and taught for future encounters. I often am asked if i believe in God, I do not. That neither makes me a lesser person or a more narrow minded person, i think it incorporates a more open mind about possibilities. I do not believe in a god, or multiple gods, if people actually throughout researched their religion with a open mind they would see the many flaws in theories and encounters and transcripts. The fact a few hundred years ago the church and religion was profitable, and a controlling dictatorship. But only those willing to live in the reality of the world will see. I am neither a Atheist, I do believe in the spiritual world. I also believe in science as there are facts proven studies. I believe humans have come such a distance from the spiritual connection they could have with themselves, others and the world. The energy in which all living things are made of are all connected and somewhere we have lost the frequency in which we use to be connected too. The most damaging is technology, the birth of the internet, i say that as a hypocrite who is using this medium to communicate on, because that is now the only way to communicate with someone. Via a electronic device that emits energy enabling us to connect with one another. Its quite sad, the fact we become so reliant on this form of communication and the internet instead of being used to research, expand, and enlighten us as human beings is being used as a basic form of communication. Instead of researching we are facebooking, instead of gaining knowledge we are gaining lives or likes on some social platform. The world has become alot less three dimensional. We like or save pictures on our phones and devices, but how many can we hold, as a actual photograph. The beautiful sights of places are being clicked away at and splashed all over social media, yet how many people actually sit and look, actually look at the details, feel the vibe, the atmosphere and indulge in the moment rather than trying to capture it. I again sound like a hypocrite as a photographer. Though i do print off my photographs, i ensure i enjoy the moment rather than capture it, if i do capture it its a bonus but if i dont enjoy the moment there was no point. I do not read beauty magazines, i have no interest in fashion, or the shallow industry and models they represent. I do not like consumerism or politics but i watch the psychology of them.  And the direction in which they are going is shocking.  I suppose i wonder why alot, why people are as shallow as they are, with their looks, other peoples, material objects, and money. I would love more than anything for a ban to be put on the internet every social platform for one day or a week, and watch people realise how they have all forgotten how to communicate like actual humans. That their self worth comes from themselves and not likes on a image, that beauty is what you see in the moment not through the camera on your phone, or the image splashed across a magazine. The fact that relationships are worth more as the next girl friend or rebound is not a friend request away. That the instant access to people is something that only true friends and family should have, not random strangers. That privacy is a actual thing, and how do you expect other people to value yours if you do not value it yourself. The world has drasically changed, but i see it change for no better. Girls show more flesh on their media sites than they do when they go swimming, skirts have got shorter, mind you so have shorts, and morals have become a thing of the past. One generation not so long ago a lady was a lady, and a man was a gentleman, a mans word was his oath, and a woman’s self respect was a prized attribute. Now a woman’s arse, pout or breast are that, and a mans word is a reliable as the British weather. When did these attributes, manners, morals and principles become extinct? And more importantly why is no one citing a war to revive them. I would love to blame technology, but unfortunate technology is useless without its user.