I hate when I have bad days.
On bad days I find life cruel. When I think about my Mum, I am full of not only sadness, but also anger. I don’t understand why an illness like dementia has to happen to her when she doesn’t deserve it. She never did anything wrong, yet now she has lost most of her memories and abilities. I don’t get it.
It’s days like this that make me want to scream.
Sometimes, it is hard to shake off the familiar feeling of never being enough.
The hardest, most heartbreaking thing, has been watching my own mother fade away before my eyes.
My memories are so important to me.
I hope I never lose them because without them,
I would be nothing.
It has been a while since I wrote anything. Life has been a little hectic during the last couple months. I have moved house and also had to come to terms with the department I worked in closing down; basically, I have been far too distracted by everything to settle down and write.
My time at work has been sad and full of uncertainty. Just as I was settling, we were told our department was closing. Changes were already happening at work, but news of the closure was something no one had expected. Thankfully, there were no redundancies, but this doesn’t change the fact that I will miss working with every single member of the team I was in. Most of all, I will miss my manager who always managed to cheer me up whenever I went in to work feeling down about my Mum.
I have remained in the building following the closure, seeing people go and new people come in. I have no idea where I will be based until October, but I do know that until then I will work within another department. I am nervous about working in a different place, yet I know I need to be upbeat and remind myself that it will all settle eventually.
In the middle of all this I also decided to move to a new house with my friend Jennifer. We were already living in a shared house, but during an afternoon of eating cake, we both realised we wanted to move somewhere else. Within a month or so we found the perfect place and immediately applied for it with all our fingers crossed. We succeeded and moved in two weeks ago on an incredibly hot day with the assistance of a very skinny man with a van, who was late because he’d had, “Quite a few Coronas the night before”.
Not long after we moved in, Maisey the kitten came in to our lives. She arrived one Wednesday evening in a Budweiser box and she has been an absolute delight ever since she arrived. She has been the perfect addition to our lovely little house. Even though she can be crazy, mischievous and get under our feet; she is still a very loving and happy cat. It’s nice to come home from work, where it all feels strange, to her bounding down the stairs meowing away, which I like to think is her way of saying hello.
Though it has been a manic time, and despite my work life completely changing, I refuse to let my anxiety get the better off me. I will try my best to remain positive and keep my sense of humour strong.
Sometimes I miss my Mum so much.
It’s the hardest thing to go through. Physically, she is here. But her mind, her personality, how she used to be, is gone for good.
I talk about dementia a lot and I know everyone is sick of hearing about it. It goes through my mind every single day, just how absolutely cruel it is. I can manage my feelings about it, keep composed if I discuss my Mum’s condition, but there are times when I am overwhelmed with grief.
The little things set me off. Whenever I come home memories of what we used to do together come back to me. We used to go for coffee and cake at Debenhams cafe before shopping for clothes. What kills me, whenever I see that place, is that though we can do that now, it won’t actually be with the same person I was with many years ago. If we went now she wouldn’t feel settled and she wouldn’t be able to follow or hold a conservation. All she’d want to do is leave.
I accepted a while ago that this wasn’t going to go away, but how does anyone get past this? How do you get over seeing your own Mother mentally deteriorate before your very eyes? And the worst thing is the dread of realising that this is only going to get worse and worse….
I worry I won’t be strong enough to cope.
I am not usually a winner of any games I play. There is one game in particular that I play so much, yet I never ever win. I still play it though, despite knowing it won’t end well and will leave me feeling like crap.
Since I was a child at school, I have compared myself to every one. I compare myself to my family, my friends my colleagues and anyone I come in to contact with. Even if I’m just being served by someone in a shop, I guarantee I will be looking at them and thinking, “I look awful compared to this person…” and I will be wishing I looked like they did.
Others around me appear to have such perfect lives. They seem to fly ahead with ease, determination and courage. No matter what I do, I often feel like I am behind and that I am stuck in a world of confusion, fear and loneliness. I get lost in scrutinising every part of someone else and looking at myself with dissatisfaction. During my worst times, I believe I am not “normal” and I will never have a “normal” life like everyone else.
Of course over years I have come to realise I compare myself so much because I am dissatisfied with how I look and behave. Its an internal attacking device I have mastered to the point of it being a natural reaction in any situation involving interaction with other people. I have met so many people who I would happily trade lives with because I often feel disappointed with my own.
I would stop playing this game, I really would if I knew how to. I don’t think I have the ability to stop until I finally like who I am. I have to work hard to stop beating myself up. Everyone is different. I am different and I am on a different journey. I have to accept this otherwise I will continue to loose.
One of the most valuable things I wish I had ever taught myself is that, you should never live your life with expectations. If I could live free of assumptions and unrealistic hopes, if I could do certain things without expecting particular results, then I would probably move much more faster through life and never be disappointed.
The last time I updated this blog was over a month ago and I am ashamed. I am a bad blogger.
I have wanted to write, I really have, but I haven’t been able to decide on what exactly to say. My mind has been too much of a muddle to just sit down and write something that would make any sense.
I actually went on holiday at the beginning of this month as well. After several hesitations I booked flights to see my friends Stuart and Cheryl in San Francisco. For months I said I would visit them, but I never actually thought I would because of my anxiety about money and travelling there on my own. It wasn’t until my manager forced me to book time off and get it sorted, that I found myself one Saturday night back in March booking myself on to flights, checking and triple checking everything, and confirming my card payment with sweaty palms and a beating heart. I couldn’t believe I would be going.
But went I did and it was fantastic. It was great to see my friends and to see the life they have set up for themselves out there. San Francisco really is a stunning city. I took an awful lot of photos, too many in all honesty, so I won’t post them all. I also did some filming, which I aim to edit and upload very soon along with more details about my trip.
So, for now, it will just be a few snaps – enjoy!
Me and the Golden Gate Bridge
I have wanted to post on here for the last week but I have had some real issues with my sleep, anxiety and self-esteem. All these things have made it difficult to write anything, even this feels difficult and I apologise.
It’s no news to anyone that I struggle with living my life without regrets and worries. One of my worst traits is that I assume the worst in most situations and I hold myself back because of an excessive amount of fear and doubt. Most of the time, I want to push forwards in life and “sort myself out” but then there is that big part of me that always thinks ‘why bother?” I drive myself crazy believing I am a failure, yet I don’t do much to help myself. And so it goes on and on.
For two weeks I have gone to bed incredibly wound up and managing about 3 or 4 hours of sleep. Despite feeling very tired all day, as soon as I have gotten to bed my head has been filled with all manner of worries. My heart has been pounding away as I have gone over and over how I think I have been living my life all wrong and trying to come up with solutions. After hours of this, I then somehow manage to fall in to a very unsettled sleep.
I am always in a battle with myself. I go through phases where I allow the negative voice within me to win and I have certainly allowed it to during the last two weeks. I just want my mind to settle so that I can sleep properly.
If anyone has some advice for a decent night’s sleep, I would be grateful.