I have something really exciting to share. My story has been published on Amazon Kindle. Please check it out here https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01N3KX9G1
There is no commitment to buy, I would just really appreciate it if you would take a look.
Thank you.
Tuesday, November 15, 2016
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.
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 :
https://www.amazon.co.uk/diaryofaspitfirepilotpaperback
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.
https://www.amazon.co.uk/diaryofaspitfirepilotpaperback
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.
Tuesday, August 02, 2016
August 1st
It is the second as I write this but how I feel is a run on from the events of yesterday really.
I donated blood. I had a good meal for lunch before I went because it was the sensible thing to do. I almost couldn't donate because my iron level were borderline. I was actually just over there threshold for donating. I also appear to be more sensitive than normal. The needles hurt way more than usual and I thought I was used to it by now. Worried the donation needle would leave a nasty bruise but it actually looks okay so far.
After that I ate a lot of junk before making it home again. This was in an effort to help my body and enable me to get back here without passing out. It worked but I didn't feel good. I ate dinner too. I wasn't even hungry. Not sure it helped improve my dizzy nausea sick feeling.
Surprisingly despite all that failure I lost a pound today. Maybe it's just the weight of the pint of blood I'm missing. Who knows. My weight is disgusting right now. I can't even admit it publicly, but take it from me, it's bad. Especially for someone my height (5'4").
I feel pretty tired right now and I don't normally. I had a bad night too. I had got roughly six hours sleep when I was woken at about quarter to six in the morning by a buzzing. I thought it was safe to leave my window open at night at least. It had to be a wasp, one of those things that I fear the most. The sound was louder because my blind was down over the window. Despite being really tired and just wanting to go back to sleep I left the room. I could not return while it was still there.
Both tired, afraid and angry I mentally willed it away, picturing myself yelling at it (as if that would have any effect). I also pictured an angry invisible wall of air slamming against the glass and then sweeping upwards from the window sill to the opening and moving up and over and outside. Maybe it worked because despite
my expectations it was gone when I crept back to see a while later.
I then shut the window and went back to sleep for two or three hours. Longer than I was going to.
Not sure how to deal with food today. I should probably help my body out the day after donating so that I am not weakened severely. I am not even that hungry yet. It has been almost fourteen hours since I last ate and I am fine. I feel strong right now. Even though I am tired, sluggish and slightly shakey. Not sure if that's the after effects of all the sugar I had yesterday or something else. It is normal for me to be able to go without breakfast because I am never hungry first thing.
It is a battle. It's me vs food and so far (in life) the food has been winning. But no more. I shall ultimately win the war. I shall say my body is strong and my will is stronger. I can overcome the urges to put more food than I need into my body, ignore the cries of the sweet food that says eat me, eat me.
When I feel the hunger pangs tugging at my stomach I know I am in control. I can then choose to eat if I think I need to and if so how much of what to let pass my lips. That is the only way to win. Deny the enemy battle. If I don't engage with poison, processed, sugar laden food then I automatically win.
I will no longer mindlessly shovel food into my body, sometimes past the point of being full and occasionally this has lead to indigestion and feeling sick. Luckily my body is strong. It takes something like a tummy bug to actually make me vomit. I've never eaten to that point.
I will now go and carefully consider my hunger levels and think about having some lunch. If I do it will be pretty healthy.
Whoever reads my ramblings thank you. I hope they made sense and you found it interesting. May the rest of your day be filled with pleasure (but not too much of the sugary kind :)
I donated blood. I had a good meal for lunch before I went because it was the sensible thing to do. I almost couldn't donate because my iron level were borderline. I was actually just over there threshold for donating. I also appear to be more sensitive than normal. The needles hurt way more than usual and I thought I was used to it by now. Worried the donation needle would leave a nasty bruise but it actually looks okay so far.
After that I ate a lot of junk before making it home again. This was in an effort to help my body and enable me to get back here without passing out. It worked but I didn't feel good. I ate dinner too. I wasn't even hungry. Not sure it helped improve my dizzy nausea sick feeling.
Surprisingly despite all that failure I lost a pound today. Maybe it's just the weight of the pint of blood I'm missing. Who knows. My weight is disgusting right now. I can't even admit it publicly, but take it from me, it's bad. Especially for someone my height (5'4").
I feel pretty tired right now and I don't normally. I had a bad night too. I had got roughly six hours sleep when I was woken at about quarter to six in the morning by a buzzing. I thought it was safe to leave my window open at night at least. It had to be a wasp, one of those things that I fear the most. The sound was louder because my blind was down over the window. Despite being really tired and just wanting to go back to sleep I left the room. I could not return while it was still there.
Both tired, afraid and angry I mentally willed it away, picturing myself yelling at it (as if that would have any effect). I also pictured an angry invisible wall of air slamming against the glass and then sweeping upwards from the window sill to the opening and moving up and over and outside. Maybe it worked because despite
my expectations it was gone when I crept back to see a while later.
I then shut the window and went back to sleep for two or three hours. Longer than I was going to.
Not sure how to deal with food today. I should probably help my body out the day after donating so that I am not weakened severely. I am not even that hungry yet. It has been almost fourteen hours since I last ate and I am fine. I feel strong right now. Even though I am tired, sluggish and slightly shakey. Not sure if that's the after effects of all the sugar I had yesterday or something else. It is normal for me to be able to go without breakfast because I am never hungry first thing.
It is a battle. It's me vs food and so far (in life) the food has been winning. But no more. I shall ultimately win the war. I shall say my body is strong and my will is stronger. I can overcome the urges to put more food than I need into my body, ignore the cries of the sweet food that says eat me, eat me.
When I feel the hunger pangs tugging at my stomach I know I am in control. I can then choose to eat if I think I need to and if so how much of what to let pass my lips. That is the only way to win. Deny the enemy battle. If I don't engage with poison, processed, sugar laden food then I automatically win.
I will no longer mindlessly shovel food into my body, sometimes past the point of being full and occasionally this has lead to indigestion and feeling sick. Luckily my body is strong. It takes something like a tummy bug to actually make me vomit. I've never eaten to that point.
I will now go and carefully consider my hunger levels and think about having some lunch. If I do it will be pretty healthy.
Whoever reads my ramblings thank you. I hope they made sense and you found it interesting. May the rest of your day be filled with pleasure (but not too much of the sugary kind :)
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
Tragic Story
I found this written in the back of one of my old diaries and thought it was worth sharing. I have only embellished it very slightly from how I originally wrote it back in 2000.
I wake up in hospital surrounded by machines and listen to the steady beeps of the heart monitor. It's very bright and I can't see much else except the lights. I hear a slightly fuzzy voice very calmly saying my name.
After blinking several times the room comes into focus a little. I can see a nurse and proceed to ask her how long I've been here.
"Three months." Comes her reply. "You were in an accident."
An accident? I remember it, a flash of Adrian's car bumper coming straight for me. I can almost hear his brakes squeal and the thump of it striking my head, the pain.
"You've been in a coma."
Three months? I can't have been here three months. Surely it only happened last week.
Suddenly exhausted I close my eyes, the sound of the heart monitor slipping away as I pass out.
Coming round again an unknown length of time later I keep my eyes closed this time and listen.
There are people audibly talking next to my bed or is it just one person?
"I am in so much trouble over this." The person is saying.
I recognise the voice. It's Adrian.
"I know you've been calling out my name and I can't think why." He goes on, clearly under the assumption that I am still asleep or comatose. "Alistair convinced me to come and see you, but I don't know what he was thinking. I can hardly bear to look at you."
His voice falters and his hand slips into one of mine. I fight the urge to squeeze it back.
"I'll never speed in a car park again. Claire, please be alright. I know you were hit by a car in the past and you made a full recovery then. Please pull through again. You are so pretty and kind and it would just be a tragedy to waste all you've got to offer the world."
I want to say something, but hold my tongue, waiting to hear more.
"The people at work, some won't even look me in the eye any more. What the hell were you doing crouched in the middle of the car park in the pouring rain anyway? Did you want to get killed?" Adrian says, frustration I didn't know he harboured showing.
That's rich, blaming me like that.
"I can't believe you were in my way in the first place. If you die I will probably get charged with causing death by dangerous driving and will never see my girlfriend again. The police are holding back from charging me at the moment and the suspense is killing me."
"That's a bit extreme Adrian." I croak, finally opening my eyes and smiling at him. "I'm not planning on going anywhere just yet."
He jumps to his feet, looking at me wide eyed as if I just rose from a coffin.
"I didn't realise you were awake." He gasps.
"Relax Ad." I say softly.
"What do you remember?"
"Pretty much nothing." I croak, attempting another smile and coughing from speaking with such a dry throat. "I have no idea what day it is or what happened, only that you hit me."
He tentatively offers me some water from the cup at my bedside.
"Thanks." I sigh after drinking some and reach for his hand. "One of my wonderful qualities is that I'll forgive you because I like you and I know you didn't hit me on purpose."
"I ran you over Claire." He says, grimacing and pulls his hand away. "When you say it that way you make it sound like I physically struck you."
"Sorry Adrian." I smile slightly as an afterthought, amused by the intimation. "I didn't know that was the better option."
"No, I'm sorry." He says in earnest. "How do you feel?"
Drowsy and kind of like my head has been used as a rugby ball."
He grimaces again, still on his feet and looking like he is about to rush from the room at any second.
"Do the doctors think I'll be alright?"
Instead of answering he turns his back on me and I see him raise a hand up to his face.
"What's wrong with my Adrian?" I say, feeling panicky now.
"I'm not party to much of that information but I do know that your legs-" He says, breaking off.
The way his low voice is broken and unable to complete the sentence sends my mind into overdrive, conjuring up worst case scenarios. Looking down at my body, covered by hospital bedsheets, it is hard to identify any major differences.
"What?" I say. "What did you do to me?"
"Your knees are fractured and your stomach is severely damaged." He finally says, pausing for a moment before continuing, obviously crying now. "You'll probably never walk again and the trauma to your reproductive organs is so great you will never be able to bear children."
Feeling numb, I stare at his back for a moment. Surely he's not serious. The doctors are bound to rubbish what he says, aren't they?
"No." I shake my head, his raw emotions bringing tear to my eyes. "No, no, no, no, no. Adrian you're lying to me. Tell me it's not true."
"I'm sorry Claire." He sobs.
"No." I scream, crying in earnest.
Covering my eyes with one hand, I reach the other out to touch him. He is still close and despite the situation I need to feel the reassurance of his presence.
I feel him start at my touch.
"Hold me Adrian." I sob, tugging on his hand.
I feel the need for physical comfort from somebody, still bearing him no ill.
"I need you."
"I need to go." He whispers, still crying. "I can't live with myself after I've ruined your life like this."
"I'm alive aren't I?" I say, pulling forcefully on his hand.
He says nothing, but unbalanced, he plops onto the bed next to me.
I sit forward slightly, feeling sudden barbs of pain rippling through my torso at the movement and gasp.
Adrian finally looks at me again, his face a sheen of grief. He pushes me back into the pillows.
"Take it easy." He says, frowning so deeply you'd think someone had sewn his face into that expression. "You're far from ready to leave let alone get out of bed."
I lean my head on one of his arms, still waiting for the waves of pain to wear off.
"I'll never be able to have children." I sob. "I'll probably never walk again."
If the damage is as bad as he says, I'm assuming that is a high possibility too.
He pulls away from me, stroking my hair as he does so and backs away.
"I should not have come." He says, wiping his face. "I thought I had to see for myself that you were semi okay. At the time I was sure I'd killed you, but this was a mistake."
"Don't leave." I say, still crying and reach out for him.
He backs into the doorway, shaking his head.
"I'm so sorry." He says, obviously speaking from the heart. "I'll never forgive myself."
Then he is gone. That's the last time I ever see him.
I wake up in hospital surrounded by machines and listen to the steady beeps of the heart monitor. It's very bright and I can't see much else except the lights. I hear a slightly fuzzy voice very calmly saying my name.
After blinking several times the room comes into focus a little. I can see a nurse and proceed to ask her how long I've been here.
"Three months." Comes her reply. "You were in an accident."
An accident? I remember it, a flash of Adrian's car bumper coming straight for me. I can almost hear his brakes squeal and the thump of it striking my head, the pain.
"You've been in a coma."
Three months? I can't have been here three months. Surely it only happened last week.
Suddenly exhausted I close my eyes, the sound of the heart monitor slipping away as I pass out.
Coming round again an unknown length of time later I keep my eyes closed this time and listen.
There are people audibly talking next to my bed or is it just one person?
"I am in so much trouble over this." The person is saying.
I recognise the voice. It's Adrian.
"I know you've been calling out my name and I can't think why." He goes on, clearly under the assumption that I am still asleep or comatose. "Alistair convinced me to come and see you, but I don't know what he was thinking. I can hardly bear to look at you."
His voice falters and his hand slips into one of mine. I fight the urge to squeeze it back.
"I'll never speed in a car park again. Claire, please be alright. I know you were hit by a car in the past and you made a full recovery then. Please pull through again. You are so pretty and kind and it would just be a tragedy to waste all you've got to offer the world."
I want to say something, but hold my tongue, waiting to hear more.
"The people at work, some won't even look me in the eye any more. What the hell were you doing crouched in the middle of the car park in the pouring rain anyway? Did you want to get killed?" Adrian says, frustration I didn't know he harboured showing.
That's rich, blaming me like that.
"I can't believe you were in my way in the first place. If you die I will probably get charged with causing death by dangerous driving and will never see my girlfriend again. The police are holding back from charging me at the moment and the suspense is killing me."
"That's a bit extreme Adrian." I croak, finally opening my eyes and smiling at him. "I'm not planning on going anywhere just yet."
He jumps to his feet, looking at me wide eyed as if I just rose from a coffin.
"I didn't realise you were awake." He gasps.
"Relax Ad." I say softly.
"What do you remember?"
"Pretty much nothing." I croak, attempting another smile and coughing from speaking with such a dry throat. "I have no idea what day it is or what happened, only that you hit me."
He tentatively offers me some water from the cup at my bedside.
"Thanks." I sigh after drinking some and reach for his hand. "One of my wonderful qualities is that I'll forgive you because I like you and I know you didn't hit me on purpose."
"I ran you over Claire." He says, grimacing and pulls his hand away. "When you say it that way you make it sound like I physically struck you."
"Sorry Adrian." I smile slightly as an afterthought, amused by the intimation. "I didn't know that was the better option."
"No, I'm sorry." He says in earnest. "How do you feel?"
Drowsy and kind of like my head has been used as a rugby ball."
He grimaces again, still on his feet and looking like he is about to rush from the room at any second.
"Do the doctors think I'll be alright?"
Instead of answering he turns his back on me and I see him raise a hand up to his face.
"What's wrong with my Adrian?" I say, feeling panicky now.
"I'm not party to much of that information but I do know that your legs-" He says, breaking off.
The way his low voice is broken and unable to complete the sentence sends my mind into overdrive, conjuring up worst case scenarios. Looking down at my body, covered by hospital bedsheets, it is hard to identify any major differences.
"What?" I say. "What did you do to me?"
"Your knees are fractured and your stomach is severely damaged." He finally says, pausing for a moment before continuing, obviously crying now. "You'll probably never walk again and the trauma to your reproductive organs is so great you will never be able to bear children."
Feeling numb, I stare at his back for a moment. Surely he's not serious. The doctors are bound to rubbish what he says, aren't they?
"No." I shake my head, his raw emotions bringing tear to my eyes. "No, no, no, no, no. Adrian you're lying to me. Tell me it's not true."
"I'm sorry Claire." He sobs.
"No." I scream, crying in earnest.
Covering my eyes with one hand, I reach the other out to touch him. He is still close and despite the situation I need to feel the reassurance of his presence.
I feel him start at my touch.
"Hold me Adrian." I sob, tugging on his hand.
I feel the need for physical comfort from somebody, still bearing him no ill.
"I need you."
"I need to go." He whispers, still crying. "I can't live with myself after I've ruined your life like this."
"I'm alive aren't I?" I say, pulling forcefully on his hand.
He says nothing, but unbalanced, he plops onto the bed next to me.
I sit forward slightly, feeling sudden barbs of pain rippling through my torso at the movement and gasp.
Adrian finally looks at me again, his face a sheen of grief. He pushes me back into the pillows.
"Take it easy." He says, frowning so deeply you'd think someone had sewn his face into that expression. "You're far from ready to leave let alone get out of bed."
I lean my head on one of his arms, still waiting for the waves of pain to wear off.
"I'll never be able to have children." I sob. "I'll probably never walk again."
If the damage is as bad as he says, I'm assuming that is a high possibility too.
He pulls away from me, stroking my hair as he does so and backs away.
"I should not have come." He says, wiping his face. "I thought I had to see for myself that you were semi okay. At the time I was sure I'd killed you, but this was a mistake."
"Don't leave." I say, still crying and reach out for him.
He backs into the doorway, shaking his head.
"I'm so sorry." He says, obviously speaking from the heart. "I'll never forgive myself."
Then he is gone. That's the last time I ever see him.
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
My salad has bite
Thursday, February 18, 2016
Eruption News
So I'm going to talk about this as if it is relevant and people will be interested.
Last night I dreamed a volcano in the Mediterranean erupted. It was not specific about which volcano it was. Maybe it is a premonition, maybe it's not. The volcano was near a massive hotel. The hotel was mountain like and you entered at the top (like the crater of a volcano) and went down into the depths where the guest rooms are. The volcanic eruption happened in daytime and causes widespread panic and chaos amongst the nearby hotel guests. Some people rush back inside the hotel to seek refuge in the depths and others are caught outside, gripped by panic. Many people die and there are British nationals involved. It makes the news everywhere. But what nobody outside this hotel knows is that people survive. I think the outside gets swamped with deadly pyroclastic flows which cover the high entrance to the hotel. So those who seeked refuge inside are trapped. They survive but have no way out and nobody on the outside knows they are alive.
Now people who interpret dreams would read all kinds of things into this. I have no ideas about those meanings. There are definitely active volcanoes in the Med so anything is possible. I guess time will tell.
Before MH370 went missing I dreamed about a passenger plane crash. I'm not saying it is related, but thought it is an interesting and slightly relevant thing to relate here. I don't know what airline the plane in my dream was or where in the world it was coming from or going to. In my dream it came down on land in a warm part of the world, in daytime. The fuselage of the plane was severed. Not completely as far as I saw, but badly split near the front. The pilots, flight attendants and all passengers were either killed on impact or badly injured. One of the flight attendants was particularly worried about her belongings. She had brought something with her that was precious to her but nobody else knew she had it with her. She was very worried that this item would be stolen and wanted to protect it. She lingered in the area at the front of the plane next to the cockpit entrance because the small locker with her personal bag in was in this area, I'm not sure what her physical condition was at this point. She may well have been dead. The people who were not dead and were concious were not well enough to be able to summon help. This flight may have been destined for a warm place because I have the impression that this particular flight attendant (the one worried about her possessions) was dressed in either a short sleeved shirt or a t-shirt, paired with a knee length skirt, loose hair and flat slip on shoes, possibly with a lei round her neck. The area the plane crashed was wooded countryside. There may also have been people outside the plane, but they were not there to help. (It's been a long time since I had this dream).
I hope you found this interesting. Have a lovely day :)
Last night I dreamed a volcano in the Mediterranean erupted. It was not specific about which volcano it was. Maybe it is a premonition, maybe it's not. The volcano was near a massive hotel. The hotel was mountain like and you entered at the top (like the crater of a volcano) and went down into the depths where the guest rooms are. The volcanic eruption happened in daytime and causes widespread panic and chaos amongst the nearby hotel guests. Some people rush back inside the hotel to seek refuge in the depths and others are caught outside, gripped by panic. Many people die and there are British nationals involved. It makes the news everywhere. But what nobody outside this hotel knows is that people survive. I think the outside gets swamped with deadly pyroclastic flows which cover the high entrance to the hotel. So those who seeked refuge inside are trapped. They survive but have no way out and nobody on the outside knows they are alive.
Now people who interpret dreams would read all kinds of things into this. I have no ideas about those meanings. There are definitely active volcanoes in the Med so anything is possible. I guess time will tell.
Before MH370 went missing I dreamed about a passenger plane crash. I'm not saying it is related, but thought it is an interesting and slightly relevant thing to relate here. I don't know what airline the plane in my dream was or where in the world it was coming from or going to. In my dream it came down on land in a warm part of the world, in daytime. The fuselage of the plane was severed. Not completely as far as I saw, but badly split near the front. The pilots, flight attendants and all passengers were either killed on impact or badly injured. One of the flight attendants was particularly worried about her belongings. She had brought something with her that was precious to her but nobody else knew she had it with her. She was very worried that this item would be stolen and wanted to protect it. She lingered in the area at the front of the plane next to the cockpit entrance because the small locker with her personal bag in was in this area, I'm not sure what her physical condition was at this point. She may well have been dead. The people who were not dead and were concious were not well enough to be able to summon help. This flight may have been destined for a warm place because I have the impression that this particular flight attendant (the one worried about her possessions) was dressed in either a short sleeved shirt or a t-shirt, paired with a knee length skirt, loose hair and flat slip on shoes, possibly with a lei round her neck. The area the plane crashed was wooded countryside. There may also have been people outside the plane, but they were not there to help. (It's been a long time since I had this dream).
I hope you found this interesting. Have a lovely day :)
Friday, February 05, 2016
Motivation
Hi folks
I'm feeling seriously demotivated today. I don't know exactly where it began. I got the news this week that I have to attend Job Club. Despite what my jobcentre advisor said it feels like a punishment. I've only just come out of a temp job. I have no idea why I was picked to do this. They can't expect me to secure a new job this quickly. It hasn't been that easy since I left college at 19 and walked into my first permanent job within a couple of months. The most annoying thing about that job is I walked away voluntarily. I didn't realise what a stupid move that was at the time. I remember it as me leaving so I could be closer to my boyfriend at the time who lived in the next town. I had recently become pregnant with my first child and this was my underlying motivation for wanting to be geographically closer to him. But after reading an old diary of mine I have questioned this memory. Whatever the truth it was stupid to resign. I have regretted it in the years since. Fast forward a few years, two children and a failed relationship and suddenly there are 500 people applying for the same jobs as me when before there was 5. Securing a job is now near impossible, How much did our population expand in those years?! All I've been able to get is temp jobs.
It's so sudden but I feel so depressed today. What did I do? Where did I go wrong these last few days? I can't pin down why these feelings have engulfed me. I'm usually very positive and pretty happy, able to see the best in everything. Not today though.
I went to the football on Tuesday. Not sure if that's related. I support Norwich City and attended the home game against Tottenham this Tuesday just gone. I was so pumped before hand because I have not attended a match for far too long and really miss the atmosphere and stuff. I went with my two sons. We had a good time but Norwich got their butt's kicked. The first thing that felt wrong was walking down to Carrow Road in the crowd of supporters. They weren't glowing with yellow and green like I remember from previous matches. It doesn't feel right unless the crowd is awash with the team colours. Then during the match the crowd was pretty subdued in my opinion. The Spurs supporters on the other hand hardly kept quiet the whole game and made more than enough noise to compensate for their comparatively small numbers. The home crowd booed a lot because the referee wasn't doing a great job. According to the NCFC Twitter feed there were two disallowed goals during this match because the scorer was apparently offside. I did notice one of these. The crowd between me and the goal stood up (as did I) but I still couldn't see exactly what was going on. It seemed like someone had scored but it was wrong somehow. I didn't understand at the time. I was later informed by someone on Twitter that I had appeared on Match Of The Day. At the disallowed goal the camera panned to the linesman and there I was in the crowd behind him. He must have amazing eyesight because my appearance was so quick. It was nice to be famous for half a second. After losing 3-0 we went home disappointed. It seemed to me the team were scared to try and score. I watched Tottenham run rings around Norwich. They got possession of the ball and played with it passing it back and forth and the Norwich players couldn't intercept it. Then when they did get possession and ran up the pitch with the ball they darted into the corner and not towards the goal. Even then instead of trying to score they passed the ball across the pitch. The players then passed the ball back towards their own goal. The amount of times it was passed to our keeper for a goal kick I was concerned it would eventually end up in the back of the net. Thank fully this didn't happen. When someone, maybe out of boredom, eventually beat Lloris (the Spurs keeper) he was offside. They just couldn't get it right.
I regret missing out on tickets to the home game against Liverpool the previous week. I intended to get tickets for ages beforehand but got confused about when I was able to buy them. The match was amazing. Even though Liverpool eventually won 5-4, up to the last minute anything could have happened as the winning goal was put away in the final minute of the game. I would have loved to have seen it live.That must have be demotivating for the team to an extent though. They worked so hard and still came away losers.
I just don't know what's up with me today. Have you ever felt like that? It's Friday too. Even though I'm not working at the minute I should still be happy about the impending weekend.
Another slightly depressing thing is Valentines day. It's happening soon. For those of us who are single and not happy with the situation it's just rubbing in our faces that we are not in a loving relationship. I have been chatting with somebody and we have talked about meeting/going on a date at a time when we are both free. The way I'm feeling today I can't help say I'm not sure if anything will come of it. He seems like a nice guy. Who knows?
I'd better go and stick my head on the sand now. If I play camel and pretend everything is okay maybe I will feel better again. Hope you have a lovely day.
If you are sharing my depression today please leave a comment. Sharing is supposed to be theraputic. (Why can't I spell today?) x
I'm feeling seriously demotivated today. I don't know exactly where it began. I got the news this week that I have to attend Job Club. Despite what my jobcentre advisor said it feels like a punishment. I've only just come out of a temp job. I have no idea why I was picked to do this. They can't expect me to secure a new job this quickly. It hasn't been that easy since I left college at 19 and walked into my first permanent job within a couple of months. The most annoying thing about that job is I walked away voluntarily. I didn't realise what a stupid move that was at the time. I remember it as me leaving so I could be closer to my boyfriend at the time who lived in the next town. I had recently become pregnant with my first child and this was my underlying motivation for wanting to be geographically closer to him. But after reading an old diary of mine I have questioned this memory. Whatever the truth it was stupid to resign. I have regretted it in the years since. Fast forward a few years, two children and a failed relationship and suddenly there are 500 people applying for the same jobs as me when before there was 5. Securing a job is now near impossible, How much did our population expand in those years?! All I've been able to get is temp jobs.
It's so sudden but I feel so depressed today. What did I do? Where did I go wrong these last few days? I can't pin down why these feelings have engulfed me. I'm usually very positive and pretty happy, able to see the best in everything. Not today though.
I went to the football on Tuesday. Not sure if that's related. I support Norwich City and attended the home game against Tottenham this Tuesday just gone. I was so pumped before hand because I have not attended a match for far too long and really miss the atmosphere and stuff. I went with my two sons. We had a good time but Norwich got their butt's kicked. The first thing that felt wrong was walking down to Carrow Road in the crowd of supporters. They weren't glowing with yellow and green like I remember from previous matches. It doesn't feel right unless the crowd is awash with the team colours. Then during the match the crowd was pretty subdued in my opinion. The Spurs supporters on the other hand hardly kept quiet the whole game and made more than enough noise to compensate for their comparatively small numbers. The home crowd booed a lot because the referee wasn't doing a great job. According to the NCFC Twitter feed there were two disallowed goals during this match because the scorer was apparently offside. I did notice one of these. The crowd between me and the goal stood up (as did I) but I still couldn't see exactly what was going on. It seemed like someone had scored but it was wrong somehow. I didn't understand at the time. I was later informed by someone on Twitter that I had appeared on Match Of The Day. At the disallowed goal the camera panned to the linesman and there I was in the crowd behind him. He must have amazing eyesight because my appearance was so quick. It was nice to be famous for half a second. After losing 3-0 we went home disappointed. It seemed to me the team were scared to try and score. I watched Tottenham run rings around Norwich. They got possession of the ball and played with it passing it back and forth and the Norwich players couldn't intercept it. Then when they did get possession and ran up the pitch with the ball they darted into the corner and not towards the goal. Even then instead of trying to score they passed the ball across the pitch. The players then passed the ball back towards their own goal. The amount of times it was passed to our keeper for a goal kick I was concerned it would eventually end up in the back of the net. Thank fully this didn't happen. When someone, maybe out of boredom, eventually beat Lloris (the Spurs keeper) he was offside. They just couldn't get it right.
I regret missing out on tickets to the home game against Liverpool the previous week. I intended to get tickets for ages beforehand but got confused about when I was able to buy them. The match was amazing. Even though Liverpool eventually won 5-4, up to the last minute anything could have happened as the winning goal was put away in the final minute of the game. I would have loved to have seen it live.That must have be demotivating for the team to an extent though. They worked so hard and still came away losers.
I just don't know what's up with me today. Have you ever felt like that? It's Friday too. Even though I'm not working at the minute I should still be happy about the impending weekend.
Another slightly depressing thing is Valentines day. It's happening soon. For those of us who are single and not happy with the situation it's just rubbing in our faces that we are not in a loving relationship. I have been chatting with somebody and we have talked about meeting/going on a date at a time when we are both free. The way I'm feeling today I can't help say I'm not sure if anything will come of it. He seems like a nice guy. Who knows?
I'd better go and stick my head on the sand now. If I play camel and pretend everything is okay maybe I will feel better again. Hope you have a lovely day.
If you are sharing my depression today please leave a comment. Sharing is supposed to be theraputic. (Why can't I spell today?) x
Tuesday, January 19, 2016
Let's talk paranormal for a minute
Good day internet people.
I'd like to tell you a story. I make YouTube videos and talked about this recently but it's the first thing I can think of right now. This is a true story. It happened several years ago at the time of writing this. I can't remember exactly when it happened though.
So I was walking in Norwich city (where I live) and it was just a regular day. I was walking along the ring road near the part of the city called Anglia Square towards a roundabout on the footpath on the right hand side of the road. I was going to a building right on the edge of the roundabout. I don't know what I was thinking about but up ahead I noticed a woman. There was nothing special about her. She looked as if she had just stepped off the roundabout onto the pavement, which was a little odd. This woman was striding purposefully. There was nobody else around within direct view of me at that time. It's hard to estimate the distance between us but I was a little way back up the footpath. I didn't pay this woman any special attention because she was as solid as you or me but could see her because she was directly in my field of vision. Well she walked across the grass next to the path and vanished behind the high wall running around the edge of the property there. There was a part of the wall that jutted out at an angle with a tall tree behind it. I was on the side where the wall stopped and the tree was visible. She disappeared on the side where the wall runs along and then juts out.
Initially I wasn't concerned. I thought she must have gone through a gap in the wall or a gate or something. Even though I couldn't see her on the other side as far as it was visible to me. It was only when I had walked past the jutted out bit that I realised where she had gone was nothing but solid wall. There was no gap or gateway or anyway through. The wall was solid bricks and too tall for anybody to climb. I was left with the only possible conclusion. That I had just seen a ghost.
Sceptics would perhaps suggest that I was hallucinating or it was reflection of a real woman that was walking behind me or other similar explanations. All I can tell you is that I know what I saw.
It was a regular day. I don't recall the weather specifically but it wasn't raining or a clear sunny day. I'm sure of that. I wish I could have caught it on tape. That would be awesome. Then people could dissect it to their hearts content and come to what ever conclusions they want. Unless she would not have shown up on tape. In which case she would obviously be a vampire. Haha
I wonder what ghosts really are. Do they actually exist or are they just a figment of our imagination?
They are fascinating because it is not something we can physically measure and document and examine the properties that make them up. That is why sceptics are able to dismiss them so easily. I mean if they are either the spirits of departed humans or a remainder of departed humans reliving a part of their lives over and over then I can see why they remain mysterious. Lets say for a moment that they are real and are either one of the above. Lets also say for a moment that they are either aware of flesh and blood humans or able to interact with them. If I was the ghosts I would be picky about who I allowed to see and/or interact with me too (assuming I was able to control this). I also would not hang around long enough to be tested like some laboratory guinea pig. I mean who would?
Have you seen that movie The Sixth Sense? I think to a certain extent they are onto something. I mean that as far as the bit about dead people not realising they are dead sometimes goes. I'm sure you can see how that is possible. Theoretically speaking we are still saying that ghosts are real here for the moment. Some people die so suddenly that I can see how they might not know right away that they are dead. But you'd expect them to catch on sooner or later wouldn't you? You'd think they'd notice that something was different after a while. But it's quite a big leap between hey there are strangers living in my house, did I just forget where I live or am I dead?
But if the sceptics are right what does that mean for us?
I think the conclusions regarding that are far scarier than the possibility of that nice girl down the street being tormented by dear old departed Aunt Ethel because she never liked her niece and is pissed that she has moved into her house and not only rearranged everything but also hooked up with that no good hoodlum she always had a soft spot for.
So if the sceptics are right that means we are all a great big bunch of basket cases, all of us who believe or are open to the possibilities. It means that we are delusional. We forgot about the weed we smoked earlier in the day and then claim to have seen/heard/felt spiritual activity. (I don't smoke weed by the way. I have never touched drugs of any kind apart from prescription meds.) It means instead of being open minded there is something going on in our brains, something special that created these illusions of spiritual activity.
I don't think the sceptics can be completely right though. I'm not just saying that because I am a believer and not prepared to accept that I am mentally deficient. My experiences are convincing. For example I believe that I have precognitive dreams sometimes. An example of this involves my maternal grandparents. Both are now dead. They died at different times. I can't recall exactly the gap, maybe a year or two. My gran died first. Before she died I kept having dreams about both of them going up into the attic. Of course I could not make sense of them at the time. I rarely have reoccurring dreams. I can't remember if they stopped after she died or came back before grandad died. I think these dreams did return before he died. It was only after he died that it clicked. I realised the attic had been a euphemism for heaven and I was being warned that they were going to die.
But predictive dreams don't always come true. I think they are just a possible future if things keep going they way they are. A possible example of this is a dream I had a few years ago. Even though I don't recall exactly when I had it the dream sticks in my mind for reasons that will become obvious once I've explained what occurred. So in the dream I was a passenger in my dads car. My mum was in the front with him and I was in the back between my two children. He was just driving along a countryside road somewhere (it wasn't a typical skinny no white lines country road). There was a vehicle coming in the opposite direction and I realised it was heading straight for us. I screamed. The next thing I knew our car was upside down or on it's side and there was blood and broken glass all over the tarmac. I woke up after that. The thing that really made it stick with me was the scream. When I woke it was so vivid I felt as if I'd actually lived it. The scream sounded so real. But I didn't scream in my sleep because nobody else in the house heard anything (I remember asking the next morning). So yeah, that was a scary one.
I think I'll leave it there for now. Thank you for reading through my thoughts here. If you have anything to say about what I've said please leave me a comment. Hope the rest of your day goes well.
I'd like to tell you a story. I make YouTube videos and talked about this recently but it's the first thing I can think of right now. This is a true story. It happened several years ago at the time of writing this. I can't remember exactly when it happened though.
So I was walking in Norwich city (where I live) and it was just a regular day. I was walking along the ring road near the part of the city called Anglia Square towards a roundabout on the footpath on the right hand side of the road. I was going to a building right on the edge of the roundabout. I don't know what I was thinking about but up ahead I noticed a woman. There was nothing special about her. She looked as if she had just stepped off the roundabout onto the pavement, which was a little odd. This woman was striding purposefully. There was nobody else around within direct view of me at that time. It's hard to estimate the distance between us but I was a little way back up the footpath. I didn't pay this woman any special attention because she was as solid as you or me but could see her because she was directly in my field of vision. Well she walked across the grass next to the path and vanished behind the high wall running around the edge of the property there. There was a part of the wall that jutted out at an angle with a tall tree behind it. I was on the side where the wall stopped and the tree was visible. She disappeared on the side where the wall runs along and then juts out.
Initially I wasn't concerned. I thought she must have gone through a gap in the wall or a gate or something. Even though I couldn't see her on the other side as far as it was visible to me. It was only when I had walked past the jutted out bit that I realised where she had gone was nothing but solid wall. There was no gap or gateway or anyway through. The wall was solid bricks and too tall for anybody to climb. I was left with the only possible conclusion. That I had just seen a ghost.
Sceptics would perhaps suggest that I was hallucinating or it was reflection of a real woman that was walking behind me or other similar explanations. All I can tell you is that I know what I saw.
It was a regular day. I don't recall the weather specifically but it wasn't raining or a clear sunny day. I'm sure of that. I wish I could have caught it on tape. That would be awesome. Then people could dissect it to their hearts content and come to what ever conclusions they want. Unless she would not have shown up on tape. In which case she would obviously be a vampire. Haha
I wonder what ghosts really are. Do they actually exist or are they just a figment of our imagination?
They are fascinating because it is not something we can physically measure and document and examine the properties that make them up. That is why sceptics are able to dismiss them so easily. I mean if they are either the spirits of departed humans or a remainder of departed humans reliving a part of their lives over and over then I can see why they remain mysterious. Lets say for a moment that they are real and are either one of the above. Lets also say for a moment that they are either aware of flesh and blood humans or able to interact with them. If I was the ghosts I would be picky about who I allowed to see and/or interact with me too (assuming I was able to control this). I also would not hang around long enough to be tested like some laboratory guinea pig. I mean who would?
Have you seen that movie The Sixth Sense? I think to a certain extent they are onto something. I mean that as far as the bit about dead people not realising they are dead sometimes goes. I'm sure you can see how that is possible. Theoretically speaking we are still saying that ghosts are real here for the moment. Some people die so suddenly that I can see how they might not know right away that they are dead. But you'd expect them to catch on sooner or later wouldn't you? You'd think they'd notice that something was different after a while. But it's quite a big leap between hey there are strangers living in my house, did I just forget where I live or am I dead?
But if the sceptics are right what does that mean for us?
I think the conclusions regarding that are far scarier than the possibility of that nice girl down the street being tormented by dear old departed Aunt Ethel because she never liked her niece and is pissed that she has moved into her house and not only rearranged everything but also hooked up with that no good hoodlum she always had a soft spot for.
So if the sceptics are right that means we are all a great big bunch of basket cases, all of us who believe or are open to the possibilities. It means that we are delusional. We forgot about the weed we smoked earlier in the day and then claim to have seen/heard/felt spiritual activity. (I don't smoke weed by the way. I have never touched drugs of any kind apart from prescription meds.) It means instead of being open minded there is something going on in our brains, something special that created these illusions of spiritual activity.
I don't think the sceptics can be completely right though. I'm not just saying that because I am a believer and not prepared to accept that I am mentally deficient. My experiences are convincing. For example I believe that I have precognitive dreams sometimes. An example of this involves my maternal grandparents. Both are now dead. They died at different times. I can't recall exactly the gap, maybe a year or two. My gran died first. Before she died I kept having dreams about both of them going up into the attic. Of course I could not make sense of them at the time. I rarely have reoccurring dreams. I can't remember if they stopped after she died or came back before grandad died. I think these dreams did return before he died. It was only after he died that it clicked. I realised the attic had been a euphemism for heaven and I was being warned that they were going to die.
But predictive dreams don't always come true. I think they are just a possible future if things keep going they way they are. A possible example of this is a dream I had a few years ago. Even though I don't recall exactly when I had it the dream sticks in my mind for reasons that will become obvious once I've explained what occurred. So in the dream I was a passenger in my dads car. My mum was in the front with him and I was in the back between my two children. He was just driving along a countryside road somewhere (it wasn't a typical skinny no white lines country road). There was a vehicle coming in the opposite direction and I realised it was heading straight for us. I screamed. The next thing I knew our car was upside down or on it's side and there was blood and broken glass all over the tarmac. I woke up after that. The thing that really made it stick with me was the scream. When I woke it was so vivid I felt as if I'd actually lived it. The scream sounded so real. But I didn't scream in my sleep because nobody else in the house heard anything (I remember asking the next morning). So yeah, that was a scary one.
I think I'll leave it there for now. Thank you for reading through my thoughts here. If you have anything to say about what I've said please leave me a comment. Hope the rest of your day goes well.
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