bleugh

hello outlet. it has been some months since i last saw you. i only come here it seems when life becomes achy like yeats tightened bow. a bit like praying or church for me. the empty page of the blog is like my psalmic call to god. the quick oasis before i retreat to bed to try and appease my ailing body and mind.
today i ache. with sadness loss and nostalgia those three friends who come to hang out at the worst of times and link your arm and pull you down.

sad September song.

creak. September again and the wave of tiredness returns. feeling low and unusually agoraphobic even though there is evening sunshine.  
the piles of events sit solidly in my head and threaten me with their return at any given moment.
even reading Eckhart Tolle can't stop the flow of these events from pouring though a hole in my consciousness like a spring from a mountain, the  leak makes the hole grow bigger and the spring, in fact muddy waters, creates a stagnant lagoon from which I can't escape.

old and needy she wants a shower and waits for me to call. i can't call i have no will to drive that far to help her shower. small and sad he might wait for me to call to do fun things. i cannot call, i can't be fun.

depressed and over worked he comes home after a long day and shouts that it's a dump in here.

days later after a few weeks of relentless events and injustices i hit a sudden hole in the road and down i go, too tired to pick myself up or speak.

grivell

fuck. i am 36 years of age and  i have a man grivelling over my shoulder at this. grivelling. it is a new word and one that brings me down to earth with a bang and reminds me of the room i am in and the lack i inhabit.
i was just trying to make a decision to train as a secondary school teacher in english and then he came to grivell. oh now i am so tired i will have to carry on where i left off. nowhere. please god let me do something with my life.

a murderous tale

I have gone off writing this blog because the reason I started writing it was to: create a space where i could divulge my miseries unabated and without fear or judgement; to express somewhere my daily misery rather than expound it to friends, passers by or complete strangers and to exercise my writing skills ( start off by writing about yourself- someone said)

however, my miseries have taken over and i have no time to expound them anywhere and my plans of writing have somewhat died.

somewhat. the first superfluous word i have used today.

i have vivid dreams of houses often, ones i have lived in and ones which are a part of somewhere i have lived- in the dreams there are usually extra rooms and spaces i'd not realized were there.

i am not sure i have the temper or energy to write full fledged versions of the domestic misery i consider i endure anymore. it is too time consuming. perhaps this is a breakthrough for me. perhaps i can forget about reality and start to write something that isn't so tedious and heavy and weighed down with detail.

first line: 'he was locked out of the house they shared, her, him, his step son (of hers) and their two children. he had misplaced his key, though he was convinced it was she that had hidden it, tided it away. so busy she was meddling in other's business.
she meanwhile was not at home and she turned her phone to silent to stop the barrage of infuriated texts and phone calls calling her cunt and demanding an entrance to their home.

she was far away with other issues and dealing with a car in the garage and a number of children to feed.

......crux.... so when she returned home with a phone filled with vitriolic texts (17)and voice mails (5) and missed calls (5) from he, she was aware of the temperature reaching boiling point. she no longer had the energy to explain her side of the story.

as he ranted and swore at her, a little ball of irritation grew in her stomach. he swore and cunted and swore and blamed in front of the children, until that little ball of irritation became murderous and without thinking clearly, but with rational intent, she picked up a large and heavy copper plated pan she had recently brought. as he swore and cunted in the adjacent room, swore and remonstrated with her and called her names. she approached the room from which his ugly shouting emanated. and suddenly the copper plated pan was pounding upon his head. the shock made him stop swearing at her for a minute. she struck again, and again, and  again util no more sweearing would ever come from hi mouth again. full stop.

this evening i have been left alone at 6pm as my other half has taken all three kids to football. the relief i feel actually made me cry with joy, genuinely.

its been a along time

hello blog its been a long time and i have miss missed missed you though you are but a orange logo on the  corner of my screen. it has been the longest winter of my life these last few years. cold and hateful losing my sister who is gone gone gone, and she aint never coming back. i think i am in a new grieving process where i simply have her my sister in my mind all de time. and yet she been taken. god. explain please.

miserablefucker

so it's been a long weekend and not in the way you would want it to be. lots of scratchy people nearest and dearest being very scratchy! eeeeeek. nails on chalk board. why must we suffer these souls? in 3 hours 7 years ago, i squeezed (sorry) out a baby girl of most unique quality. today i have scratchy people around me. fuck the scratchy people!!!!