Random thoughts, overthinking, doing things without thinking.
Be yourself; Everyone else is already taken.— Oscar Wilde.
Random thoughts, overthinking, doing things without thinking.
Be yourself; Everyone else is already taken.— Oscar Wilde.
I never truly believed how much of an effect the people around you could have on your mind set. The last three weeks have been extremely difficult both mentally and physically. I still struggle with a lot of it but I’ve been shown so much love and care that I barely notice the bad parts.
Times like this showed me who was truly a friend and who really cared. Surprisingly, there was one person who I never expected to become such a big part of not only my life but the kids lives. Staying the night so I wasn’t alone, staying awake half the night just to help me when the nightmares would come, making sure the kids were OK and had what they needed, being a friend and a support for them.
I have finally found my peace. It’s not very often someone can find you in pieces and slowly help you put yourself back together. I am happier, we all are, I am enjoying things again, I am leaving the house and visiting friends, the anxiousness is disappearing and I feel so much better about myself, my life and where I’m heading.
All because of 3 amazing people. Of course my family have been a massive help like always, but it’s hard when they are spread around everywhere. I have 3 special people in my life that are close and that are always doing what they can to help me get through. 2 I knew would be here, but 1 was a complete surprise and it’s magical. We all are feeling safer, the kids are so much happier, they are being taken care of by a man who shows them love, support and encourages them to do their best. Things I only wished their fathers would do for them.
Sometimes it’s the accidental bonds that form that are the best, nothing is forced, genuine feelings of happiness, having someone in our lives that wants to see us be happy and succeed, and makes us number one as a family unit.
I can finally say, I’m happy. There is no better feeling right now. I am happy, my kids are happy, there’s no walking on egg shells in case we say or do the wrong thing, my children are not worried about doing the wrong thing and being degraded, they are spoken to and treated with a love like I have never seen and they are glowing. I can honestly say I am smiling everyday, I’m feeling beautiful, and I’m finally not an anxious mess.
Happiness……it feels great!
I’ve been struggling lately. I’m no longer afraid to admit it, but when asked ‘how are you going’ my answer will always be ‘I’m good’. It’s an automatic response that falls out of my mouth before i even think about it. I can’t explain how I feel because I don’t actually understand it myself, so how can I explain it to someone else?
Small things set off the tears but at the same time I don’t have a care in the world. I try and help those around me with their issues no matter how big or small while not giving a shit about my own. I feel down about nothing in particular and then get angry because I have no reason to be upset and heaven forbid I have a cry for no reason.
I don’t like to be surrounded by lots of people, there’s too much noise, too many things to concentrate on and it makes me anxious. Kids parties are a killer, mainly because of how large my family is. I’d much rather sleep through them. As much as I want to, I don’t. I get through and let my emotions out when everyone has left.
I find clarity in the shower, although that also scares me because that’s not always a safe place for me. The hot water raining over me, the music playing through my phone, the calmness. It’s also where I’m most destructive. Every thought for the day comes racing through my head, every scenario of ‘what could happen’ pops up, every what if, every why, and no matter how loud the music is or how hot the water is I suddenly find myself in a ball on the floor.
Searching for that calmness to return, telling myself I can’t control everything, it’s OK tomorrow is a new day, wheres the blade? and that’s how quickly it all happens.
Even without speaking those close to me can tell how I’m feeling or if I’m OK by what I’m listening to. My playlist will always tell you before I do. I don’t have a favorite genre that I listen to, it’s very random and some would probably say erratic. I don’t like soft music when I’m angry or upset, I like heavy metal or rap and I’ve been told that it’s possibly because my heart is already racing that if I try to trick it and my brain into having a reason to be racing other than my anxiety then it helps calm it down.
That probably doesn’t make any sense, but I get it. I can’t even keep track of what I’m writing tonight. I’ve got too much going through my mind, not enough space for it all to fit and there’s no point dwelling on any of it as it’s probably all shit anyway!
So, this one is going to be deep and if you don’t want to read about some harsh realities, I suggest you don’t continue reading.
The way we deal with pain varies from person to person. Some people have a high pain tolerance and others, not so much. But what about emotional pain? How do you deal with that? Do you have coping mechanisms in place that help you or do you just ride it out? For me, even though I have things in place that I know I need to do, like mindfulness, grounding, and making a phone call to get my mind onto a different subject, it doesn’t always work out that well.
I struggle with having to be in control of my pain, if emotionally I am in pain then I need to find a way to make that a physical pain. Emotional pain has no source and that’s what I struggle with. There is nothing saying, this pain is from my knee that I hurt when I fell or this pain is from my finger that I burnt on the pan I just got out of the oven, so I need to make it a pain that I have a reason to have.
What happens when I feel so empty and down and like nothing I do is right by anyone around me? I get a blade and mark my skin. My arms, my thighs, my calves, then I hide it by making sure I don’t wear shorts, I don’t get changed in front of anyone and I don’t slip up and say something. I stand in the shower and watch the blood roll down and drip into the plug hole. I feel so much relief watching my pain leave my body and disappear with the water.
Not many people get it and not many people can handle seeing it. In the last few years I have realized that getting a tattoo gives me the pain I need to feel and makes me feel the same relief and it’s leaving me with a beautiful piece of art instead of horrible scars. I’ve gone from having two to nineteen and each one has its own meaning. My favorite will always be my Granddads writing, bye bye for now. Coming a very close second is my parents favorite flowers, a peony rose for mum and a bird of paradise for dad.
Mums peony rose came just after I had received a phone call from her that no child ever wants to get, and no parent ever wants to make. The words ‘I have breast cancer’ cut me deeper than any blade ever could. I was at work; I was about to open the shop as I was there by myself and I dropped to the floor behind the counter and cried and cried and cried. They are the only words I can remember hearing, and I can still hear the crack in her voice as she said it. I hung up the phone and went into a panic attack. It was in that moment that I knew I couldn’t do anything to myself, so I called and booked in a tattoo.
When people ask me about them, I can see the judgement on their faces, I can hear it in their voice, and I don’t care. I don’t get them to please anyone other then myself. They quite literally save my life each time I get one. I know mum doesn’t like them, I know dad is judging the fact that I spend money on getting them instead of other things that he deems more important, but for me they are very important. I’m sure if they knew how much damage I could do to myself then they wouldn’t care quite so much.
The panic attacks get worse with each one and the numerous medications I’ve tried turn me into a zombie and I don’t like that feeling. I’m trying as hard as I can to keep everything together, but it seems the more I try the more things fall apart. I’ve refused going to the doctor about a few things I know I need to get checked, I’ve put myself and my needs way down the list of things to do because what I need isn’t as important as the things that others around me need. I’d rather deal with other people’s issues and problems before dealing with my own and it also gives me a break from my own thoughts. I’d rather help people succeed and reach their own goals or help pull them out of a slump than do that for myself.
On that note, I’m done. This has been enough thinking for one evening and it’s exhausting. Time for a cup of tea, some cream on my fresh tattoos and bed!
It’s 9:49 on a cold and frosty Friday morning. I have Post Malone playing loud enough to block everyone’s voices out, except the one in my head.
Sitting here after a very restless night, I have no motivation to do anything. I have phone calls to make, appointments to book, washing to do, bed to change and instead of doing any of it I’m sitting in my corner hiding from it. I don’t want to talk to anyone today. I don’t want to adult today!
I’ve already had various message’s from friends, my normal morning Snap Chat, and a detailed conversation with one of my bestie’s about her appointment today in Launceston. That’s enough interaction with other humans for today.
I also need to have a shower. To do that means I need to get out of my warm pj’s and snuggly dressing gown and go in to the cold and very white bathroom. It feels very clinical in there, white paint on the ceiling, white tiles on the walls, white tiles on the floor, no heater to get the chill out of the air, it’s actually very morgue like.
I’m also not prepared to brush my hair. It’s amazing how long you can go without actually doing this. I mean, I wash it all the time but it’s been about 3 weeks, maybe longer, since I actually brushed it. It gets to the point where if I flip my hair over in front of my face not one strand will move out of place, almost like one big dread lock. Maybe I should just get dread locks done properly! That would totally eliminate the need to ever brush my hair.
It’s 10:04 am and the frost is only just starting to melt on the front lawn. The heat pump is churning away, Linc is playing with his monster trucks on the lounge room floor and I’ve now got John Moreland playing on YouTube. Lyrics draw me in, I love songs that have meaningful lyrics or lyrics that I’m feeling at the time. Paranoid by Post Malone is high on the play list lately, Over Now by Post Malone, You don’t care enough for me to cry by John Moreland is also up there in the ‘recently played’ section.
Then I remember Sakye has been listening to music on my phone because suddenly I’ve got Bubba Sparxxx blaring through the speakers. Quickest I’ve ever moved to turn that crap off. Sometimes she’s too much like her father.
It’s 10:14 and I can’t put it off any longer. Keeping this blog PG rated was harder than I thought it would be. Not going off course and rambling was even harder. Time to turn the music up louder so I can hear it over the water falling around my head and get this done!
At 9 years of age my daughter has more emotions and empathy than many adults. We have to monitor what she watches, not just because shes 9, but because she is easily upset.
When she was about 6 her favorite cartoon was ‘Milly and Molly’. In one of the episodes Milly and Molly’s teacher had a pet bird she would bring to school. The teachers bird didn’t come to school one day and she told the class that the bird had passed away over night. The class puts there lunch money together and the next day arrive at school with a new bird for their teacher.
Sakye, my emotional child, cried and cried and cried. She asked me ‘why did the bird have to die mum?’ I’m sorry baby girl, but death is a part of life. But how do you convey that to a 9 year old?
She continued watching her favorite cartoon and every time that episode was on she would start to cry and wonder why all over again. Ferdinand the Bull, a fabulous movie, she cried because people made fun of Ferdinand and ‘that’s not OK mum’ Finding Nemo, she cried because ‘poor Nemo look what he’s going through’ Beauty and the Beast (the original thank you) she cried because ‘Beast isn’t that bad mum, he doesn’t know any better’. Her little brother’s naming day when she was 5 she cried because everyone came together and celebrated her special little brother.
Sometimes I really struggle with how to deal with her and what to say to her. She seems to have an abundance of emotions that are always on high alert, even for the smallest thing. She feels bad for people that aren’t real and I can understand that but it’s almost like she can’t tell the difference between what’s real, as in, people around her, and what’s not, like cartoons and TV shows.
Does that matter? Do we feel less empathy for people or characters that aren’t real? Do we teach our children, without even meaning to, that because it’s on a TV show or in a movie that it isn’t as important?
Last year, she struggled with bullies at school. She would come home daily saying ‘this person did this today’ ‘this person did that today’ ‘can I just stay home today mum’ ‘I have a belly ache and don’t want to go to school’. I struggled because she was struggling. When it comes to my babies, if they are hurting because of someone, that someone is going to have a raging mumma on their hands.
I went to the school but they were unhelpful, which made me even angrier. Sakye was getting even more upset because I was so mad and so I had to turn it around. I was not helping her, even though I thought I was. I even told her and taught her to stop her bullies by giving them a nice big uppercut. I knew she wouldn’t do it because she didn’t want to get into trouble with the teachers. We made it through the year by instilling in her that “how people treat you is more of a reflection of who they are not who you are” and yes, at 9 years old she understood this.
This year has been much better, she’s made new friends and she’s come out of her shell a lot more. She does have one little person in her class whose parent works at the school as a teacher, this little person like to play that card against her ‘friends’. She told Sakye yesterday that she can do what she wants cause her mum works at the school and she won’t get into trouble. Sakye’s response ‘Good for you, I won’t get into trouble if I punch you cause mum told the principal you’re an asshole and deserve it’ (insert major OH SHIT moment here)
Apparently whilst teaching Sakye the importance of standing up for yourself and your friends she has over heard me saying something similar. I forget she hears everything and picks up on the feelings of others. I haven’t even been to the school this year to see the principal, but according to Sakye she said ‘it just came out mum before I thought about it’ and my first thought was yep, there I am. She’s slowly losing her filter when it comes to things she doesn’t like and although that’s not all bad, I’m waiting by my phone for a call from the school today!
So my little 9 year old baby is starting to care less about what people think about her and what her reactions to things are. I’m changing that and the way I react to things when she’s around. Whilst I’m happy she isn’t caring as much what people say about her or think about her, I’m not going to let her become just like many people and have little to no empathy or emotions and not think about her reactions to things.
My baby is growing up and I don’t like it. As hard as it is to deal with her emotional little butt, I don’t raise sheep. She will not conform to what others think is ‘right’. Much like the way I was raised. By a strong woman who shows no mercy when doing things that are right for her, showing compassion, having the emotional capabilities to deal with any situation but never conforming to others ideas of ‘normal’.
My son is 4 years old. He awoke the day of his birthday still 3 though, as he hadn’t drank his Milo. Apparently he wasn’t turning 4 until he’d has his morning Milo, running out to tell me he was 4 now cause ‘my had my Milo mumma’
He is a funny kid this boy of mine. His imagination is out of this world and he will happily lay on the floor playing by himself. Everyday he comes out with hilarious one liners, pulls a face only my kid could pull or simply tells me he doesn’t want to leave the house today because he hates going outside. That’s what happened this morning.
As he finished his morning Milo I told him we need to get dressed so we can go in the car. He looked at me devastated and said ‘but mumma my don’t want to go outside, I hate it outside’ My first thought was “yep buddy, I do too” but I asked him why he hated it outside and his response was ‘there’s too many people and my don’t like it’ Oh buddy, I completely and utterly understand.
I have to bribe my 4 year old child to leave the house on a daily basis. He doesn’t like being around people, he doesn’t deal well with having to run around stopping and getting in and out of the car, he is exactly like me!
I found myself leaving the house less and less, asking friends if they are going to the shop and could they grab what i need, I don’t visit many friends anymore because Linc is ready to go home before we even get to their house, I can’t, I mean, I won’t put him in daycare or take him to playgroups because eww there’s people and kids that touch you or won’t wipe their noses or parents who are sooo much better at parenting but in a few short weeks my boy starts pre – kinder. I’m not prepared for this, I haven’t had enough time to work out how I’m going to deal with both my kids being at school.
I’m not ready. He is more than ready, just like his sister was. I’ve started getting him used to putting clothes on and leaving the house although I’m not convinced this will last long. How do you get a child to be happy to leave the house when you don’t even want to leave it yourself. He and I found comfort in our home and its our safe place. We are working on this together, a 4 year old teaching a 29 year old.
He teaches me a lot of things every day. I know all the Monster Jam monster trucks, I know that his belly button itches when he puts a wipe wrapped around his finger in it. He’s taught me that it’s OK to play alone and that you can be happy with your own company. Many things that I should be teaching him and his sister yet this time it’s the other way round.
I feel that this little boy of mine is going to teach me so much as he grows up and discovers more in life. I’m OK with that, I mean as long as we are both learning then what could go wrong?
It’s a given that we’ve all heard great little nursery rhymes growing up and maybe you’ve even sung them to you’re own children (or you know neices, nephews, grandchildren, etc etc) but have you ever wondered where they originated from?
I saw a post today that said “did you know humpty dumpty isn’t actually an egg”…….my mind was blown….A) because no I did not B) the actual nursery rhyme doesn’t make mention to him being an egg, and C) What the hell is humpty?
Straight to google I went, we all know if you can’t find the answer on google then there is no answer. (insert eye roll here)
What I found blew my mind all over again. The good old nursery rhyme ‘Humpty Dumpty’ was first printed in 1810, Lewis Caroll’s book ‘Alice through the looking glass’ was where Humpty was shown as a round egg. One of the ideas about who or what humpty is/was that is taken seriously is that he was a canon used during the English Civil War.
I decided to google other nursery rhymes and found that most of them have a dark and grotesque meaning or origin.
Ring-a-rosie – The Black Plague, Jack and Jill – An affair where Jack died from falling on a rock and Jill died during childbirth, See Saw Margery Daw – Terrible conditions for child workers in the Victorian period, Rubber Dub Dub – Men peeking at women bathing!!
So, there you go. There’s so many more but that was enough to make me sit there and have no words. I do wonder though, how did we come to have cute little rhymes that have such dark meanings? Why are we still singing them cheerfully? I don’t think I’ll be singing any more nursery rhymes to my kids, I think I might stick with ‘Soft kitty’ as a bed time song – thanks Sheldon and The Big Bang Theory!
My name is Emma and I am, among other things, a mother and wife and a 29 year old mess.
I’ve read and written many stories and blogs but never actually posted one where people will read it. My posts may be random, they may contain weird and interesting thoughts and they may be pure rubbish
Because that’s how my brain works. Sometimes there is great ideas and other times I’m wondering if penguins have knees!
I warned you….RANDOM!!