Wednesday, November 08, 2017

I'm still here

I didn't know I could ever feel like this. I have no idea why I feel so depressed. It is so deep I think it needs a whole new word to describe it. All the songs and movie quotes about depression rolled together can't pin down this feeling.

It's not that I am questioning the entire point of my existence, which I am, but it's just everything. It's more than just me. Our entire world has no purpose. We are a plague upon the earth, infesting it, bleeding it dry of all natural resources and slowly killing it after over populating it. That's what is happening. China has population control in place because they need it, but sometimes I think we all could benefit from such controls and so too could the poor planet. Says me, who has two unplanned kids and loves growing them so much I'd gladly have more. It's such a contradiction.
It seems to be in built (in some of us at least) the overwhelming desire to make more of ourselves. Some people don't feel this so powerfully until later in life, if ever, but it is always there.

The world is full of so many problems that will never be overcome. No matter how hard we try. For my entire lifetime (all of 36 years at the time of writing) there have been starving children in Africa and probably long before I was born. Despite the millions in aid that have allegedly been poured into the country those children will still be starving in the same conditions long into the future. Not the same children obviously, but the problem remains. Despite this the struggling people of Africa continue to breed and fight hard to make the best they can of the life they have, probably in the knowledge it will always be like that, but hoping the future will be brighter for their ancestors some day.

Hope. That word has a lot to answer for. It is sometimes all we have to hang onto. Even then it is sometimes not enough. I mean sure why do we give a damn about the struggles of people in Africa? Or the asylum seekers and refugees that plague Europe at the moment, all making a beeline for the UK come to that? Because it is human nature to care about each other and want to help make each others lives better. Apart from those evil who exist among us only out for what they can get and don't give a damn about the rest of us. They shouldn't be breathing our air, but here we are anyway. Looking at it from an outside perspective the solution is very inhumane. Kill. End lives. But there is too much of that going on too.

Every week in the news there is some new story about a mass killing somewhere and it never ends. Just like the eternal gun law debate in America. Nothing there will ever change because the people in power who could fix (or attempt to) the problems either will never agree amongst themselves on new or changed laws and bring said laws into effect or are just too damn scared about what would be said to do anything about what's happening. That's the burden of democracy. In order for anything meaningful to happen enough people must agree on the action to take and they never do. So in lew of any alterations the deaths continue to roll on. Arguably even if laws or rules were altered it might not affect the mass killings, but at least action would have been taken to try and fix things instead of continually arguing about things and not doing a damn thing that matters. There will always be death.

So that brings me back to my life. I feel like there is no purpose in me being here and often wonder why I am still here? Now I have two children who need me, a infant nephew and a sister who is getting married next year. Non of whom I wish to burden with the lifelong scars of my suicide and I am not at that point yet anyway. But I worry that day will come. The day when I reach the edge of the metaphorical cliff and see only darkness behind me, the long drop stretching out ahead, calling to me. Go ahead Claire, jump. It's time.

To cap it all of the benefit I am currently in receipt of, well I am no longer eligible after my last review apparently. Fun times ahead then. Time to start hunting for work again. That pointless task. Hours put into the applications and nothing back in return. There is little point in it. Nobody wants to employ me it seems. I have a good CV and am a hard and dedicated worker. Who knows why I have no luck. Ugh, I hate being so negative. Time for therapy; which consists of chocolate and distracting video games.

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Deep Dark Depression

I never thought I'd feel like this. I am dead inside. Life is nothing. A part of me actually wants to die. The other part wants to live, but I am not sure why. There is no joy to be had, no purpose in doing anything. I just want to find a dark, comfy place to hide away and remain for an indefinite period of time. I don't dwelling on negative things. There's not much else I can say. I wake up each day and wonder why I am still here.

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Delicious Banana Bread

This is something that I make using the hand written recipe my sister wrote out years ago and I do not know the original source for it (she may even have made it up), but it is so yummy I have to share this.

8oz Self Raising Flour
Pinch of Salt
2oz Margarine
1 Egg
2oz Sugar (Caster/Superfine)
Grated Rind of 1 Lemon (Although I use a squirt of bottled lemon or lime juice as a substitute. The kind you keep in a very small bottle in the fridge)
3 Mashed Bananas (In order to use up the very ripe bananas in our house I often make this with 4)
Milk (if needed)

1) Sieve flour and salt together.
2) Rub in margarine.
3) Add egg, sugar, lemon rind (or lime/lemon juice if using my substitute) and banana.
4) Mix thoroughly.
5) If necessary add milk to give soft consistency. (Although I find when using lemon/lime juice, the milk is not necessary).
6) Place mixture in a greased and floured loaf tin and bake in 180 C (Gas 4) oven for 45 minutes.
7) Leave in tin for 5 minutes after removing from oven when it's cooked.
8) Turn out and cool on a wire tray/cooling rack.

It's that easy and so delicious. If you have any questions about this please leave me a comment and I will get back to you. Enjoy :)

Tuesday, June 27, 2017

I'm dreaming of fire, flying and ..... witches?

My dreams are so vivid at the moment. I have to tell you about the last two I had.

Night before last I dreamed about a fire. I was inside somewhere (but am not sure what the building was) The inside was all black and there was a small fire in a box shelf at about head height. I am 5'4 for reference. I attempted to throw some gel liquid on it to put the fire out but most of it ended up falling on the dog that was at my feet. I then became fixated on cleaning the dog's head, since some of it was close to it's eyes.

I think I left after that, but it's a bit fuzzy, the memory of between that and the next bit.

I was outside. There were scores of firefighters just sitting on the ground resting. I stepped through them as I went because they were in my way, so to speak.

The setting by the way was close to water. We were on the edge of some vast expanse of water, but I cannot specify if it was the ocean or a lake or what. I think the initial fire location was in a wooden hut on a wooden jetty though.

Next I was at 'home' in my bed (dream home and bed not my real life ones). It was night time and I was woken by people shouting outside in the hallway. "Get out! Get out!" I was in some kind of communal residential building. I went and opened my door to look out into the hallway (where the main stairs were). But there was nobody shouting, only a handful of people sat on the floor chilling.

I then realised that is what they must have experienced. (I am not sure which 'they' I was referring to here) After that I felt an immense amount of guilt. Since that initial small fire that I had failed to extinguish had gone on to rage out of control. I blamed myself for the deaths that occurred and all the destruction. I was near tears.

The dream ended with me writing a post on Reddit titled : Am I responsible? (Or something similar) and detailed the whole thing.

Obviously something that comes to mind is Grenfell tower. I am sure experts could tell me in detail the meaning of all that. Lol. What I dreamt about I mean. To be honest I dream about firefighters rather a lot. I am often a part of the crew. Not sure why. If that's what I am supposed to be doing I don't think there is much chance of that. I am not fit enough certainly, to be a firefighter.

Then last night my dream was a wild adventure, with the viewpoint changing constantly. I don't think I can even retell it with the sequence in which the dreams happened. I am not even sure of the time period.

Okay so I was a young woman (in a long plain dress, I can't pin down the fabric but it was handmade, possibly woollen, pre mass clothing retail era) I was poor and was taken in by someone. She had taken in other people too and lived in a large house in the countryside (not rich manor house large) She wasn't really well off but had land and plenty of 'family' (other people that lived there). Together they all did what needed to be done day to day. The main hub was the kitchen. In exchange for being taken in I simply had to pitch in. I was however forbidden from associating with a young man that I grew to like.

One of the other women who was taken in at that time later fell pregnant. I think the man responsible went away or had to go away for a while. I am not sure where or why though. She was waiting longingly for him to return.

I think I was a man and I was in that house but the three women in charge did not want me there. Both me and them (or at least one of them) was able to levitate and this was completely normal at the time I dreamt it. They tried to chase me out. I levitated and flew up to the second floor (ground was floor one) via a window. One of them flew up a spiral staircase that was at the opposite end of the house to said window. I then raced along the upper corridor before any of them could reach me and went out the window at the far end of corridor (on the right hand side of the house from the first window if that makes sense). I then broke the window just above me on the third floor so they'd think I went in there and then flew to the roof and sat up there very quietly.

It took a little time but they found me in the end. The woman came and towered above the rooftop, looming over me, still flying. I could only see the one. Then I was a woman. I went to the opposite end of the roof to where she was hovering and laid in a rectangular hollow. A man came (or the man from before) came and laid over the woman, protecting her from the wrath of that other woman. Then I don't know what happened or how that ended. That scene finished there.

There was a small group of people (at least two) same time period as before. In fact I think this is all same period around the same house. The people were running and hiding, possibly escaping from the house but I can't be sure. Beyond the house garden lawn there is vegetables growing and a shed/warehouse type building with stacks of crates of veg around the front of it (and the front is facing away to the left of the house as you look at the shed/warehouse) There are small and large trees bordering the divide between the lawn and the vegetables. The people hide from view of the house as much as they can until they reach the outbuilding.

There was a small plane here. I was not aware enough in the dream of it to be able to specify what type or even if it had an engine and propellers. All I know is it had wings, a cockpit and a stick with which to control the pitch. Someone else was going to fly. We got in and took off but the pilot pulled back too far and ended up elevating vertically. I shouted not to do that as it would stall but it was too late. The plane crashed, but no harm was done. Next attempt I was in control but had no shoes on. Somebody gave me some boots to wear that were a bit too big. We were in such a hurry I was multi tasking. I was shoving the boots on my feet at the same time as I was taking off. It was as if the plane was drunk though. I had one hand on the controls and one hand one a boot. So the plane lurched to the left and I was unable to gain much altitude. I skimmed over the fields, aiming to dodge between two particular trees when I reached a treeline between fields. The thing was the wind kept blowing me further along the tree line. For some reason I was fixated on this one gap but struggled to reach it. I could have gone through the trees at any point, without the wind buffeting me into one, but I didn't.

Later on, still flying and still trying to hide, but with a little more altitude this time, I dodged behind a long hillside. I am not sure what I was trying to hide from but I think they saw me. There was a row of these hillsides (or maybe they were mountains, I am not sure) and I was dodging behind the cover of one, then zipping around another and another.

There was a man and a woman. They were pretending to be lovers for some reason and went to get a ride. I am not sure what kind of transport this was, but you paid the person a fare and rode in a wooden box. There were other people in the box, sat on the floor. I don't think there were windows but there were probably wheels. The woman tried to leave with all the man's money but was prevented. In the end only the woman took the ride and the man kept all of his money apart from the fare for the woman. He went back to his little plane (the same one from before) and spotted a man walking away. The man carried a bag over his shoulder. The bag was large, square and white, with a red stripe pained across the front from one top corner to the opposite bottom corner. The bag also had a long thick strap. This colour scheme was the mark of a man who had just left jail and was rehabilitated. This was the second time I had seen one of these men in my dream but I don't recall the circumstances of the first one.

The man with the plane was thinking, after what happened with the woman, that this was the last time he would try to help anybody. But upon seeing the bag man he would have felt bad if he didn't give him a ride somewhere. He thought I'll be right back to help you and climbed in his plane.

That's the end. I woke up after that.
I have a dream diary that I sometimes note down my dreams in but these are way too detailed for me to be able to write in the small space I have there. I hope anybody that reads this finds it interesting and maybe inspiring even. I could probably craft a story or two from these. If you feel like you could please feel free. If you do create a story based on either of my dreams to share online all I ask is that you credit me and/or link back to here. I think that is probably unlikely, the amount of people that see my blog, but I feel I have to say that just on the off chance.
Sweet dreams x

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Some Awesome News

I have something really exciting to share. My story has been published on Amazon Kindle. Please check it out here
There is no commitment to buy, I would just really appreciate it if you would take a look.
Thank you.

Wednesday, September 07, 2016

What's Real?

There is a man that I had a brief relationship with earlier this year. While we had fun generally the intimacy part of it, because we did reach that point, was not enjoyable for me. And the way he has vanished out of my life makes me feel as if he has stopped existing altogether. Was he ever real in the first place?
The way he does not exist online enhances this illusion. He must have a presence but perhaps in a covert way. He works in IT as a contractor for the US Military and used to actually be in the military.
While the whole experience with him was fun generally I would like to undo the intimate part it if I could. He was too rough and violent, the way he has sex (for my liking anyway). Also every time we did it (which was only about three times overall) he made me bleed a little which was weird. Not sure why that happened. The one time I was actually starting to enjoy it he stopped/finished. Typical right?
The whole experience with him has put me off men altogether. I was not having any luck anyway. The handful of dates I had this year in my pursuit of something longer lasting were failures. The chaps were nice for the most part, but there was never a repeated date. There was one who I was getting on well with but I think he just wanted to sleep with me. After we left the pub he tried to kiss me, which I was not ready for. I walked with him for a little while before turning and heading home. He looked older than I initially thought he would. There was a nice chap who I thought the date with went well and we talked about going out again but it never happened. He reckoned he was a chef in a local pub and was always being called in to work or other excuses that meant our second date kept getting postponed. In the end I lost patience and washed my hands of him. He clearly wasn't really interested in me at all. I had a gut suspicion that he secretly already had a girlfriend and that was why our second date never materialised.
The guy I talked about initially couldn't keep his hands to himself on our second date and I was not happy with this. We went to the cinema and he selected seats in the back row. Later it became apparent there was only one reason for this. I was not comfortable with the ways he was trying to touch me because we didn't know each other well enough for that yet. The fact there was a couple about two seats away from us beside me kissing and touching each other the whole time didn't help either. By the end of the movie their antics had me a bit turned on but I still was not okay with my date trying to feel me up and continued to fight him off.

The whole thing just makes me feel old fashioned. I don't know what the attitudes of young women are today regarding dating and sex but it seems like the guys are all out for sex and don't give a toss about anything longer term. Are women the same generally? I feel like a dying breed here. I am not out for sex and only give myself to a man as part of a longer term relationship. Letting that guy I talked about initially have me was a mistake. The number of men I have slept with is very low and I intend on keeping it that way. I expect to have a few dates (I don't know how many exactly) with a person before we consider getting to that stage. It probably makes me seem like a prude. Don't get me wrong, I like sex (or making love if that's what you call it) but not just for the sake of it with some dude I don't even know. I value myself more than that.

I am not actively seeking someone at the moment anymore. I give up. I may be pretty and nice and all that but it seems like I am destined to grow old alone. If that's the way it's going to be that's fine I guess. I'd rather have somebody but it looks like that is not going to happen now.

The first man I was ever with, our relationship may have been messed up from the start but there is no denying that he is the best I've ever had. That is not just because he was my first and that makes him special. It's a shame there were so many other things wrong with our relationship. The first time was nothing special. First time sex is romanticised too much in the movies. It's not really all that. It is no more or less special than any of the other times we had sex. And that's okay. Despite all the fucked up things that happened I wish it had have worked out. My family never liked him, which is also a shame. Maybe we weren't even good for each other. I don't know. I know myself better now and am more mature and worldly than I was when we first met. The woman he is with now is lucky to have him. He is not in a good place emotionally and I wish I could help. I like helping people and solving problems. I think maybe we have suffered from similar issues over the years, depression, low confidence and all the things that come with both of those. He's not a bad looking chap. We should both be confident, happy within ourselves and just brimming with good things. I think him and me must be connected on a soul level. As in we have been together in past lives. Our connection was so strong and long lasting. When the relationship ended it took me ages to get over it because I loved him and it hurt that we were over. I have had negative feelings towards him at times over the years since but I don't want to hold onto those. At the end of the day he is the father of my children and a part of me will always love him. There I said it. Without downplaying it. The bad stuff that happened between us, he would know what I am talking about, I forgive you. Long enough has passed now that the thing that happened, I'm okay with it. It's in the past and does not define me (or you to an extent). Also I hope that you can or have forgiven me for that thing I did which I don't want to mention here. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done and I hated myself for it for a long time, but again I think enough time has passed that I can live with it now. It makes me feel like I was god for a moment there, taking the power over life and making a choice. No human should wield that kind of control, especially over such delicate life. I still wonder what gender it was and whether it is out there in spirit somewhere growing up on the other side.

Anyway this is way longer than I initially was going to make it and verged into issues I was not going to talk about. I got side tracked. And the man I talk about at the end is not going to read this anyway, so nothing matters I guess.

Saturday, September 03, 2016

Why Do Mother's Do Things Like This?

There is a great book I have been reading. Diary Of A Spitfire Pilot by Granville Allen Mawer. I think it's fascinating. I accidentally read a few exerts on Amazon a while ago and was so interested I bought it. If you are interested here is a link :

I don't want to spoil the ending, but there is just something I can't get my head around and explaining it involves spoilers. So if you don't want to know, stop reading this now.
Allen (as he is known) has an affair/relationship with a serving woman whilst he is serving in Britain. She is British. He is Australian. They do not use protection at all. He is there for several months, maybe more than a year. I didn't really notice. Surprisingly she does not get pregnant. He says to her that if it happens he will marry her. I think they loved each other, but he had ideas about saving himself for a woman back home who he was exchanging letters with. Eventually there is a situation where either him or one of his friends will get to be sent to a destination unknown. They toss a coin and Allen's friend wins. Instead of choosing to go his friend opts to stay in Britain and be with the woman he has been seeing. (They later marry). So Allen gets to leave. Turns out he is going back home to Australia. The journey takes many months (or weeks, again I cannot recall which) The last night he spends with his British girlfriend something happens which he is never made aware of. After returning home the engagement with that other woman breaks down. Allen serves in the Australian air force at home. Once his British woman realises she is pregnant she writes to him several times. The letter were sent to the bank where Allen worked before enlisting. From there they were forwarded to his house. His dear beloved mother not only opened and read the letters but she hid them and did not send them on to her son. Allen then dies in a training accident about five weeks before his 24th birthday. He never knew about his son.

I just can't get over his mother's reasoning. What on earth did she think she was doing? What terrible thing was she trying to protect him from by denying him knowledge of his son? I have no doubts he would have married that woman just like he promised had he known, or tried to. The logistics might have been awkward but he would have tried at least. He was young but he had a great sense of duty and responsibility and of doing what was right when it really mattered. His British woman named the boy after Allen. I don't even know why his mother opened the letters. She could have just sent them on to her son. Perhaps there was a return address complete with her name and she just couldn't let her curiosity go. Last time I checked mail is private. Perhaps I have a greater sense of personal privacy than they did. After Allen died his mother felt bad enough about things to contact the woman and let he know he was dead. The woman had eventually married someone else and had a daughter with him. She was unhappy and in the end got a plane ticket and took her children to Australia. She lived with Allen's mother till the elder woman's death and Granville Allen Mawer II was brought up having a close relationship with his uncle. The wonderful brother of the father he never knew.
It's so tragic and sad. You couldn't make up something like this. Maybe Hollywood will tell his story in a movie one day. That would be marvellous. No, sorry, I mean (as Allen would say) that would be wizard.