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!

How bizarre

It’s a weird feeling when you’re catching up on the reader and you’re drawn to certain words, knowing that you have seen them somewhere before.

It’s even weirder when realisation dawns and you remember that the words seem so familiar because they are your own, little nuggets of your soul that someone has taken and made their own. Is it coincidence they they thought of and documented exactly the same feelings you had two months previously. It seems unlikely.

So what do you do, do you confront them or should you take a certain pride in the fact that they liked what you had to say so much that they effectively stole it.

I don’t have much in my life, but I have my feelings and my writing and they will forever be my own regardless of where they present themselves.

You can copy, but can you really relate. You didn’t feel this pain, I did, and I owned and confronted it first.

An open letter to you

There’s a sadness that comes with an ending, any ending. Some we are prepared for and others we just have to face regardless of whether we are ready or not.

I think the ending of our friendship caught you unawares, I don’t think you believed that I would be able to let you go.

This was not an easy decision for me, in fact it was one that broke my heart. I didn’t want to lose you and I tried so hard to keep this friendship alive, despite everything that happened. There comes a point though where I think you instinctively know that there is nothing else you can try and you have to accept that you’ve reached the end of the road.

I forgave you for breaking my heart the first time. I’m smart enough to know that feelings cannot be conjured up out of thin air but I wonder if you really gave me, or us a chance. I think you had already made up your mind before we met and if that was the case perhaps it would have been better for you to walk away before we did.

After you had gone we still remained friends but I knew we were on borrowed time. I knew that when you found a girlfriend, knowing you loved someone else was going to hurt me. I was honest and told you this, but something kept drawing me to you, I didn’t want to let you go. I wanted this friendship.

When I found out you’d had a girlfriend for two months and that you had been lying to me that hurt, you knew my past and eveything I had been through before. Throughout our friendship the only thing I ever asked you for was trust and you betrayed that.

Every day since I found out I have relived moments of things you had told me, details of your life and where you had been that I now knew to be lies. Those small lies cut like a knife everytime realisation came crashing in, but still I forgave you. I forgave you because I loved you and you meant something to me, our friendship meant something to me, I wanted to salvage it.

You would tell me repeatedly that your girlfriend was ok with us being friends. It was easier for her, she knew about me for two months before I accidently found out about her and your lies. I find myself questioning her honesty, because if she was so ok with how things were why did she feel the need to ingrain herself into every aspect of your life and the time you spent with me. Perhaps on hindsight I was more accepting of the situation than she was.

Slowly but surely as the days passed I lost more and more of the time we spent together. I watched it all slip away, powerless to stop it from happening. I tried to adjust, I tried so hard, but I missed us, I missed our friendship. Even though you were still there it felt like I had already lost you and it also felt like you did not care.

I’d wait for you, conscious I only had the nights now that you chose. Someone sent me a quote once , it said something like ‘Some talk to you in their free time and others free their time to talk to you. Know the difference.’ I was learning the difference. It was a steep learning curve as I watched you give up on our nights or keep me waiting. Sometimes you turned up and sometimes you didn’t. You expected me to accept this. You expected that I would always be there and because I loved you, my friend, I always was. But it took its toll on me and as I watched you do what made you happy, all it brought me was sadness.

It became too hard, I’d be nervous on the nights I knew I was going to speak to you. Nervous about the fact you wouldn’t turn up but equally nervous about what would happen if you did. I constantly sought reassurance that I never really received. You need to be better at telling people your feelings, don’t just assume people will know, because they won’t, but deep down you know this.

I’d like to say this last 11 or so months have meant something to you, that I meant something to you, but you’ve told me so many lies I no longer know which of your words to believe.

You must think that I need a lot of attention, I don’t, I simply needed you to treat me like a friend you actually care about. Would you leave them sitting around for hours and not let them know, I doubt it. I wish you could feel just an ounce of the pain you have caused me.

If you ever do think about me, I hope someday you realise that I tried, but I got tired fighting for a friendship that was one sided. I got tired of being knocked down only to pick myself up and prepare for the next time. I got tired of being the kind of person that would allow that to happen.

I will always love you and I will always be there for you if you need me, but right now I can’t be around you, because I don’t like the person you have become. The kind, caring, funny man I fell in love with seems to have gone. I miss him.

I doubt you will ever contact me, but I knew this when I made my decision, I knew I had to be sure. I’m not, and I have no doubt that some days will be harder than others and I’ll always yearn for that one last chance to feel your arms around me.

I’m sure that I have not shed my last tears over you either.

Remember I loved you, more than you know, but I had to end this, because I need to start to learn to love and care about myself too.