The need to find space

I’m socially awkward, but allegedly the life and soul of the party when I am comfortable. This is not something I choose, it is something that crept up on me. It is something that happened and it is something I do not know how to fix.

Sometimes I feel lonely, because despite the fact I am always there for other people, oftentimes when I need someone there is no one there for me. Other times I need people to just step away and let me be myself without the need for explanation. Sometimes I crave the loneliness.

I am sick and tired of having to try and explain myself and my anxieties to people over and over again, I shouldn’t have to. I need people to actually hear what I am saying and love me regardless of what they feel are my quirks and faults. I am acutely aware of them, and while I might not always be jumping for joy about their existence, they are a part of me, they are some of the small pieces that form the bigger picture.

I hate people who tell me to do things when I am anxious ‘to take my mind of it’, yeah cos I haven’t tried that a thousand fucking times before, an anxious brain cannot always be quietened, in fact it can be so noisy that it shuts out eveything else. You just have to brace yourself, hang on, attempt the coping skills you can actually remember and weather the storm.

Anxiety is not something you can just get over or shake yourself out of, it takes hard work, a rewiring of your brain and it is extremely tiring, don’t you think many of us haven’t wished we could wake up one morning and it would just be gone. I know I have.

I’m trying, its not like I do nothing. I know my thoughts can be irrational, of course I do, I know that sometimes my worries are unfounded, and on a daily basis I counter them as best as I can. I am a work in progress and it is ongoing. I do not need to be pushed and cajoled into doing things to ‘take my mind of it’, I need people to leave me the fuck alone so my brain can have some quiet, I have enough on my mind without adding guilt to the mix as well.

I have social anxiety and I’m beginning to wonder sometimes if it is by choice.

I’ve been thinking…..

That’s quite dangerous, me thinking, it usually leads to trouble or me making more work for myself. I’ve been thinking that I want to keep a diary…the chronicles of my wonky top box. I’ve been thinking this for a while in fact, but I never seem to lift a pen and put it to paper despite having a millions journals in which I could write.

I want to be able to remember, everything, even the small seemingly unimportant details, the problem is I only ever seem to write when my mind is troubled, so the chances of me setting my backside onto a seat to journal every day is pretty slim. I could be given 10 outta 10 for good intentions though right?

If I was journalling to remember this month, I would tell you that my best friend is pregnant. I’m the only one of the friends who knows right now and I am over the moon for her, it’s been a long time coming. That said it’s also causing me anxiety because I know she is going to have expectations of me that I am not going to be able to fulfil. I would never have said I was particularly maternal, the romantic notion of having children wore off as I got older and anxiety took its grip on me. I think both myself and my disillusioned romantic inner child realised that I was having a hard enough time looking after myself so to add a younger version into the mix would have thrown me completely over the edge.

Then there is the babysitting. To someone with anxiety (well me anyway) this is a big thing. These people have spent so long wanting this child and it was not an easy road for them, so the thought that they might want me to look after it has me freaking the fuck out….I mean what if something happens on my watch, how would I ever live with myself. Now I know this is not rational thinking, but that’s my brain for you…welcome to my world….it’s hell sometimes! The problem is I need my friend to actually listen to me and not just tell me I will be doing something when I say I do not want to.

The other thing I would tell you is that one of my former work colleagues is really ill, as in it was touch and go for a while. Even though we have not had contact for a while, once I heard the news I could not get her out of my mind. I’ve always been the kind of person who takes people at face value, sure everyone will offer you their opinions of someone, but I like to take time to form my own. That was the case with this work colleague as before we met people had plenty of things to say and advice to give, so much so that I was actually starting to get a little nervous. But do you know what, we got along just fine and I had some really fun times while working with her. I really hope she pulls through.

I’d also tell you that I have been thinking a lot about my person lately and also failed friendships. I still struggle with how easily someone can walk away from a person they had previously said meant so much to them. I was talking to my friend T the other day and we were discussing my low self confidence and I said I thought some of it stemmed from failed friendships. How can I have trust or believe that I meant something to someone when they can just turn around and walk away from me like I never existed. Instead I am left with this legacy of asking people if they still want to be friends which almost has the effect of pushing them away.

Point to remember – when someone with low self confidence tells you they think they are bad at something or failing at something, they don’t want to you rhyme off the reasons they are not, they don’t do it to seek praise, they do it because that is actually how they feel regardless of whether it is true or not. Nine out of ten people with self confidence will not know how to deal with any compliments you pay them, because even if you said it one thousand times a day they would not believe it.

Anyway I have rambled on enough for today, it’s time for a shower, I’ve been cleaning and I stink!

Going all in

This is me, but I cannot decide if it is a good thing or a bad thing.

It seems of late that giving my all has resulted in nothing but pain and I feel it, that sadness and disappointment weighing me down.

I cannot understand why people lie, or why they choose to tell you what they think you want to hear, rather than the truth. I know the truth hurts, I know this first hand, that stark stab of realisation when eveything finally becomes clear, but the lies hurt too, because while your heart wants to believe, deep down your head knows that something is not right.

People come and go, it is a fact of life, but I feel the loss of someone I care for like a physical pain. I wonder what I did wrong, because my lack of self confidence has me believe that everything is my fault. I question myself and doubt myself and swear I will never open myself up to anyone ever again. But still I do it.

I rarely see the flaws in others, but I know they exist, I am not the only one who is not perfect. After time has passed sometimes I am able to see, able to understand that what I thought was a good balanced friendship was actually extremely one sided. I realise that I was giving without ever receiving. I realise that more often than not I had unwittingly become someone who changed my ways to suit that of others.

When will I realise that I matter, that what I want matters and that people can also be as lucky to have me as I am them.

Did these people deserve my friendship, did they cherish it as much as I cherished theirs, probably not, but I believe that people come into our lives for a reason, so regardless of the outcome I guess we have to honour that.

I used to believe that all the heartache and effort had to mean something but now I do not know. I wonder sometimes how many more knocks I will take before I eventually stop trying to pick myself up and carry on. I don’t want to give up, but I am tired, so I carry on regardless going all in, keeping my word and going the extra mile for those I care for.

Just like life, there is always light in the dark.

A yearning to write

I had plenty of time to write last week but I didn’t. Every time thoughts entered my head I had no desire to either turn on my computer or take out my phone to jot down the many random ideas that crossed my mind. Instead I had a yearning to revert to old fashioned ways, that of pen and paper.

It is a long time since I have felt that craving. Mainly the thought of someone being able to read my words worries me, which is stupid when you think about it considering I have a few platforms where I write online for all the world to see. It feels different though when there is a chance that those close to me might be able to read what I think, for I genuinely believe they have no idea of the muddled mess that inside my wonky top box can be.

But I didn’t write, even though I should have, something else always got in the way, always gets in the way and then the moment is gone and what I had to say no longer seemed to be important.

I need to learn that it is important. It is important to clear my head of the clutter and to make sense of the muddle. It is important for healing and for a healthier mind. It is important that I take time for myself, instead of putting others first.

One day at a time my friend, one day at a time…..

Even though the sun shines

Today is one of the days when the darkness completely overpowers the light. Its been building all week, slowly creeping in, minute by minute, hour by hour.

It’s like life chokes me and I cannot escape from its steel grip. Each finger is a memory, a past event or something I cannot control, tightening its hold.

The sun shines and spring comes, light and colourful, but not even it can penetrate this darkness.

I wonder if I am to blame for all that happens. Have I read everything wrong, everyone wrong. I give all that I have, but still it does not seem to be enough. I am not enough.

I want to fight, but I am tired. I have nothing left to give. I have nowhere left to turn because I cannot escape from myself.

Day turns to night and night turns to day and I exist, but it is nothing more than that. This is not a life, I am watching it pass me by.

I will carry on though, I will always carry on. There have been days like this before and they faded becoming nothing more than distant memories.

Today the mask has slipped but tomorrow I will move it back into place and smile like I am not broken.

Do not be scared


I know that sometimes you are scared to write, but you should not be.

Those thoughts that you hide are the ones that you need to let go, the ones that you need to set free.

You should not talk to yourself as you do. Your scolding, demeaning tone, a tongue that drips with distaste. You would not talk to your friends this way, so why do you do it to yourself.

You are unkind, unforgiving and often cruel. You expect too much of someone who is broken and finding it hard to carry on. But still you persist to push and punish.

Your heart hurts every day. It hurts because of your past, but also because you are scared of your future. Once you would have offered it with open arms, now you still do, but you expect it to be broken.

You should not give up, simply because you can no longer see the light that travels along side the dark. You should look for the light, it is always there.

You should not be scared. Take a pen and write, even if you are only writing to yourself.

Do not be scared…..


Carry On

I’m a little at sixes and sevens this weather. Basically that means I’m all over the place right now.

Things are a little off kilter because I feel in a way like my two safe havens have been compromised.

One, my games console, the place of infinite possibilities and chat with friends has changed because that was the place that was special to my friend and I. Now I have to see him there with his girlfriend. We haven’t spoken in over two weeks and it seems he no longer wants to make time for us despite his promises. I can’t understand how someone who tried to make you believe how important you were to them can just disappear from your life completely. I feel like I meant nothing to him and that hurts. They say that time is a great healer, I just wish I could speed it up.

The second place was here, my space to write and release. It doesn’t seem the same now that someone has taken my words. I worry that it is going to happen again because I don’t know the effect this will have on me. Obviously as you can see I am still writing, I need to, it is part of my new regime of self care, it is my main means for expression and understanding, but just at the minute my heart isn’t in it.

I’ll carry on with both of these things though because that’s life isn’t it. I get knocked down but somehow manage to right myself and keep putting one foot in front of the other. There is strength within in me that I fail to believe exists, but it shows itself when I need it most.

The only way (hopefully) is up!