A real diary moment

This is my  blog.  No shit Sherlock(ian), I hear 'you' cry.  'You' being the imaginary people that I imagine read my blog.  As this is my blog, I might, for a change, treat it as an emotional diary.  Just as I would with a paper diary.   Except that this diary is open to the public.

I briefly owned a paper diary as a latter teenager / early 20s something.  The problem was that whenever I read things back, I would be consumed with horror.  It always felt like someone had written the pages for me.  Invasion of diary snatchers.  An alien had plunged in, grabbed my diary and written in the style of someone totally devoid of personal dignity.  In other words, I generally thought, surely I didn't write that?!  Oh god the pain of it.  So my attempts at paper diaries have always had pages missing, sometimes whole weeks would go astray.  Well, I say astray, I'd basically bin them or ceremoniously burn them.  I'd burn them with a candle, whilst chanting - I'm kidding but there was something of moderate ceremony in my mind when burning unwanted records of memories.

Anyway, I can't burn blog posts.  I could try to ceremoniously press the delete button but I strongly suspect that it's tricky to add drama to a delete button press.  It doesn't utilise many of the senses.  You need full on senses use for pomp and ceremony.  Also, if I read something back and think oooooooh cringey, I can't  permanently delete it anyway- it will probably be out there, somewhere, mocking me from afar.

A burning laptop wouldn't help either

Potential cringing aside, I am now going to write about how I'm feeling and why I feel that way.  Think the psychiatrist couch, ala North American popular drama series.  Any North American popular drama series really, most have a psychiatrist in it at some point.  I'm going totally ignore the British stiff upper lip and completely lack in any self-control or emotional decorum.

Here goes........ 

I feel pretty fucked off right now.  FUCKED OFF.  (Sorry mum and dad).  Whoops slight decorum slip there. Life, apart from the beauty of family and a few friends, is fucking awful.  AWFUL!!

I cannot get a job.  I have qualifications practically dripping out of my arse (interesting analogy there Hazel, but, for all I'm using them, they may as well be dripping out of my arse).  I'm almost 40 (yikes), I have many years of work experience, and some of it was in career-ladder type roles and yet I CANNOT GET A JOB. 

We have been asked to leave our house - nicely and with notice but we have to leave.  We have so much stuff to pack and, as yet, we cannot find a new house.

My daughter has no ability to do as I ask. She is a toddler.  Nothing works.  She lives without boundaries.  Everything is a dangerous adventure waiting to happen.  It's driving me bonkers.  (She is still absolutely perfect but behaviour management is definitely an issue). 

I have vertigo again - this makes exercise very difficult because I fall over a lot. Falling over hurts and vertigo makes me feel sick. 

I have lost a very good friend.  We were friends, certain events occurred and now we are NOT friends.   I feel absolutely distraught about this.  She was, is very special to me and she is no longer in my life. However, I do have continual reminders of that FACT through mutual friends via Facebook.  Thank you mutual friends and Facebook.

My metabolism in running at a geriatric speed.  The exercise I do now is three times that I did as a younger woman.  I don't eat any more than I used to but losing weight and toning up is at least 9 times as difficult.  When people say, 'I only have to look at a cream cake and I gain 12 pounds' (or whatever) well I, rather dramatically, only have to stand 10 foot away from a cream cake, and totally fail to spot said cream cake and yet I absorb all of it's calories and more.  At least I assume this is what's happening because otherwise HOW THE HELL am I not fecking Twiggy!?   

There are also one or two personal issues that I actually don't want to blog about.  They are far too personal and far too issuey.  Perhaps I need a paper diary for these.  However, I will just say that these issues are particularly difficult and emotionally draining.  :-(

So there you have it.  A frank account of shit-happenings that are currently shitting all over my life.

I feel rather lost.  I feel like a bad luck magnet.  I emotionally fluctuate and I'm always, always tired.  Meditation and yogalates helps.  Poetry and writing help too.  Of course, I sometimes get lost in my toddler's smile - despite her tantrums, her smile and laugh help me most of all.

To quote Annie, from Sleepless in Seattle "I feel so much better, just having blown this off". 

xx