A nobody coz I'm not a somebody

Wow - it just washed over me suddenly, the reality that I will not be seeing clients H and L ever again. They wanted me to call yesterday to say goodbye but I decided not to having said goodbye on Tuesday. It felt as if I was trying to manipulate a leaving pressie from them. I wanted them to show how much they had enjoyed meeting with me each week.
I know it doesn't matter who they get their equipment and chat to about their problems so it was more pertinent not to call them.
I just felt the reality of never seeing them though and it was a horrid glimpse of the feeling.
It went away as quickly as it washed over. It's these little emotions that I have spent so many eyars not allowing myself to feel.
I do understand.
I am learning more.
It's OK to feel these things. I feel ashamed too of wanting them to like me - but I can allow myself the thoughts and the feelings and it's OK the great thing is that acknowledging these truths I can ensure I don;t act out on them. I an share the real me with my blog, my friends that I have learnt to get honest with and with whom I can openly discuss any judgements that are made and also whom I can say that I don't need feedback or opiniosn if I don't want them.
Yep more distraction away from studying - but I think it's stuff like this that is blocking y studying anyway.
Oh another thing I wasn't comfortable with was the results from the dyslexia assessment. It's great news that I am not dyslexic, horrid confirmation of dyscalculia - I interpret that to mean a dimwith mathematically but know that's not the case for eveyone else. BUT when she used the description of average - aaaaaargh - me average! I know I am but I hate to be labelled it. I want to be above average and spend so much time trying to prove I am above average yet sharing how comfy I am being just an average person - "another bod on the bus" and not needing to be a somebody - the reality is that that is not true at all. I want to be a somebosy otherwise I consider myself a nobody! It's still mighty strong in me isn't

Menas

Grrr - at myself. I seem to have concentration for my study for about 10 minutes at a time ad this is not enough to get through the ever growing workload I now have.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I know I have had a lot of unrest in the past 4 or so weeks - the stroke scare which turned out to be a severe migraine linked with hormones, interview folloed by a job offer then decisions to be made, the stress of the distance I will have to drive, leaving my job, increased self-awarenes regarding shortcomings and then looking at the damage caused t me and others as a result of those shortcomings. Wanting more males in my life is a big distraction but is that a distraction as a result of the studying and stress or contributing. I think there is a need to be in the flattered stage of meeting people - men. Any men reading this ugh it feels uncomfortable being this open and honest and fills me with shame to be so averagely femal - human. Yes it's a fact I would like to meet someone to share some time with BUT there are so many things that stand between me and a loving caring relationship - namely me and "issues".
However, it doesn;t stop me from now being open to the idea of men in my life- creating friendships. I have followed the suggestions of having female friends and stopping contact with destructive male relationships and now I only really know women. It would be lovely to have a selection of people both mael and female that I could invite to get together for say a Summer barbecue. Goodness knows where exactly this would happen having no space for anything like that. Anyway it is the thought of it that's appealing.
Blah blah blah. Rattling nonsense out here now instead of getting onw ith studying.
Toying with whether to stop now and go for the afternoon walk with LouLou now - it's so lovely and sunny or do some more studyig and go later. I think I will compromise and do another half an hour - which will take me to 1545. Walk for an hour menas getting home at 1645. Then I can have a bath and wash my hair - 1715 - 1730. Half an hour studying 1800 put on my dinner - eat at 1830 - bell ringing at 1900 until 2130. Home in time for perhaps a little more studying.
Then bed by what 2300? Hah that's if I don't take a sneaky look at Twitter.
I send a message to the Universe - vis Tut.com (introduced to me by a Twitter friend). I said what I would like and as I am always warned to be careful what I ask for I added a whole load of qualifying conditions. I get scared though that I haven't covered all angles and I will get a partial gift from the Universe. It is so so complicated being me sometimes. I can turn this faith in abundance into such a reward and punishment thing.
See what I mean - it's a constant complication.
Anyway - half an hours studying is getting eaten into - more later I am of no doubt.

Last Day

I tried to stay conscious today - to experiencve wverything as it was happening today, my last day working at N. "They" manager and secretary had organised a bloody team meeting. I know that it was arranged like this to coordinate with a meagre attempt at saying goodbye to me but honestly sitting for over 3 hours to things that no longer apply to me was very difficult. I chipped in a couple of times because despoite the things I find difficult about the service I am very passionate about the valuable job we have been doing.
He he he, I had told my co-worker that I wanted an ink pen if by chance they were thinking of getting me a leaving present. Well I really was horrified at the last leaving present - an engrave vase. Just not me at all. Luckily for me I have since learnt from D (co-worker) they ran out of time to get the pen engrvaed. I will think fondly of a couple fo the people L and D especially every time I use my very nice pen. Thanks everyone.
It seems so - mmmm - what does it seem so - so nothingish. One minute I was a working colleague and then within minutes I was history and everyone gets on with their job and the rest of their lives and I am already a memory. It feels very sad.
I haven't of course managed to stay present all day and experience teh thoguhts and feelings as they have happened. It still feels very much as if a apart of me hasn;t caught up with events. perhaps this is the way my soul deals with the very delicate balance within me - I am so so sensitive to change.
There is also a sense of passing of time .... N has been a consistent thread over the past 3 years. A lot of people have gone - Russell - S, J, a relationship with J, and other people have come and gone. Some places have been and gone C, Hampshire, Spain, H, Surrey. And situations have been traversed - such as starting my degree, sorting out somewhere to live, taking on greater responsibility for areas of my life, seeing S and working out some issues and so on. All through this N has been there in the background providing me with something constant. On my way home I had a real need to speak to someone who is around in my life. I need to hear the sound of stability if that makes sense. I called J - I think he got it slightly but then went off on his own tangent he often does. That's OK - it's interesting hearing someone else's take as well.
When my mum was alive I now realise that she provided that anchor that meant I could flit around, make impulsive decisions ( which might involve terrible mistakes). I changed jobs, partners, homes, personality and so on with the wind. I could because she was always there. She was the thread that ran through everything. Now she is dead I am the one who has to be my own consistent grown up. That feels so uncertain - after all I was the pne making the messes. The littel girl in me doesn't trust me to take care of me. I feel incapable of being the grown up - or rather I don't want to have to be the grown up.
I so so so mis mum. And this change today has aroused all these losses and sadnesses too.
Gosh no wonder there is a need to escape emotions - they are bloody piercing and so deep and intense.
I am tired.
I asked two of my colleagues to tell me three things they have found good about working with me three things they found difficult. Very interesting an I appreciate their willingness and honesty......
D gave me a lovey lovely list of positives. Her negative was that she thought at times I could be quite tough on new clients, giving them the hard line stuff straight away, wheras she would prefer to develop a trusting relationship with the clients before hitting them with that kidn of information. J said that he found my rigidity (harsh word I thought) both unhelpful and helpful. He said that being such the extreme opposite he found it really helpful to be able to take on some of the systems etc that I emply but at the same time he found it difficult.
Both had such valid comments and I am not surprised to hear those things. think it took so muchy out of them to tell me their difficulties that they couldn;t think of more. The positives, included that i am fun with a good sense of humour, encouraging and hard working. I am supportive and a good listener, open and honest. There were more. D took it so seriously she had written things down for me which I will stick in my journal. J did it there and then on the spot.
D asked me to do the same for her which i did.
It' all helpful feedback and enables me to continie to work on myself. Of course I hate hearing the criticism - just as hard hearing the positives and have to bracve myself for the difficulties and just listen without justification. I thanked them both and explained that it would assist me with my self development. K the other day happened to mention how he had noticed how controlling I am - I am such a bloody perfectionist.
Ugh I really would like for this to be removed. I trust that with my ongoing self-work it will diminish.
Phew I am working towards freedom, littel by little. I realise that the total freedom is when I am happy with myself and that I am OK just as I am, just where I am and with everything I need being available t e right at that moment. I understand it more and more - I just get in my own way - fear!
Phew I am tired.
My foot aches and I keep getting a pain up my leg.Of course with my paranoia I think it is something deadly.
Oh and whilst out last night celebrating A's birthday I got a severe headache. If elt nauseous and sick. I thought it was goin g to be this horrid hormonal migraine again. I was so worried that i think it was contributing to the headache. Thankfully the Paracetemol kept it at bay - I eventually got home to bed and slept well. I did get the occasional moment of giddiness and nausia today but I think it's gone now. Thank goodness.
I would not want what I tried to endure a few weeks ago again.

Countdown

Well the first of my last 4 days are over. It feels unreal at this time. Just like the days are as normal.
With my high levels of anxiety being easily triggered I noticed when I got home that I have 2 missed calls from an "unknown" number. That in the past has been the P hospital calling. Now I am worried that there is somehting wrong with my new job. I have to wait until tomorrow. Teach me for forgetting to take my mobile phone in.
From the start I have been worried about the references showing the level of sickness I have had. Now I don't really know if it's a high amount of days off but for me the fact that I have had any sick days is too many. When I have been off it's been absolutely genuine but I still have that strong message from my childhood - only weak people are sick and similar such impressions I have taken on.
And this evening I felt a real ouch of sensitivity. This is a long winded story to get to the point of sensitivity. Try and remember that this is where this story starts.
A little while ago my friends A, M and S and I agreed that we would meet each month for a long walk followed by lunch. And each month one of us would choose the walk and the lunch location. This month, the third time we've done it, was my turn to organise. I resourced a 10 mile walk from my front door and back and then a short drive to a recommended pub just 10 mins drive away (a little expensive but good food - all local produce. Yep everything! - and a very nice atmosphere). S, one of the four is currently struggling with a bad back and therefore is not coming on the walks but joining us for the lunches. Next month, it's her turn to organise the lunch and between the rest of us, we will sort out the walk. The walk was great. Fresh air, sunshine, a little chilly. We climbed Butser Hill, the highest point in Hampshire apparently. It was so clear we could not only see the cost but could see out to sea. And furthermore, views all aroudn fo the South Downs. Beautiful! I am very, very fortunate to live in such a pretty aprt of the country.
At this point I digress - the flirty, non-adult in me is now really interested in living by rough coastlines and raging seas - why? ( I love being amidst trees - even miss them when I don't get a fair share). Well because an old friend, and I mean a friend from many years ago but the friend bit is really tenuous as I barely remembered him when my other friend mentioned him, and I have had some email contact that I instigated. In his recent mail he mentioned how he would like to live by a rugged coastline and rough seas. Thankfully I am much more self aware in recent years and know how just a smile an have me inagining marriage and where we live and the lifestyle etc etc. It takes seconds to get there. So being self-aware I am able to acknowledge that, with some embarrassment I might mention, put it aside and have correspondance with my dignity and integrity intact. It is however important for me to mention thse wild imaginings and flirty thoughts to my closest friends. And I have done despite feeling foolish and being laughed at - with affection that I can take.
Anyway back to the walk, well moving on actually to the lunch. M and I sat on one side of the table where M noticed a table of 4 men who looked reasonably attractive. Now S I think wanted to be able to see them but she had her back to them and I don't think A was really that interested in her avoidance of such things. This might sound like I am man mad. No, no, no. I like to think it's a healthy interest much different from the antics of some 8 years ago. It was very different indeed then.
Anyway M mentioned to me that the men had not paid any attnetion to us at all. Now my first thought was, well of course not I am too ugly to attract any of their attention. My second thought was they may have been gay. My third thought was that they may be decent men, out for a boys lunch with their wives at home waiting after a game of golf or something. I mentioned this onto S. She sent me a text that really triggered two levels of severe sensitivity.
In her text she said that perhaps if they had seen her they would have looked again. She did add - a cheeky comment which I guess was meant to mean a jokey text. However I read into it her arrogance, and her jealousy that M and I had a great view. There was also a setting around the table that was conjusive to S and A talkign together and M and I talking together. I had a sense that S might be jealous. Anyway that's just me reading into things and how jealous I would be if 2 people were having conversatons about something I would want to be included in. S is particuarly keen to meet someon - it's a real drive in her right now.
Anyway, blah blah blah. The next thing I thought about this text was upset. So she thinks she is pretty and I am ugly. OUCH!!! She believes what I believe you see - there's the evidence I am ugly despite people trying to tell me otherwise.
But then it turned into a self berating. She was just joking, why can't I have a sense of humour? I take everything so seriously. I can't lighten up. I have no sense of humour. I am a bad person. I am not worth knowing.
What I did next was very different from the building of resentment and hatred towards her. I said all of that without the self-berating bit in a text back. I said how sensitive I had been but then also how I am so unknowing of the fine line between being able to laugh and allowing my sensitivity to tell me something hurts.
I had a lovely text back. S said that her remark was very tongue in cheek and hadn't thought how it might sound. She was sorry it hit a sore point and wasn't what was intended at all. She said that she hadn't though about it because she doesn't see me as ugly.
I do notice though that she doesn't say I am attractive. See I can't let it go can I?
I said thank you S.
Relief and friendship in tact - then codependently worried that she thinks I am an arse and - oh shut up.

Now back to the male friend. I sent an email last night and it was on my mind that he might reply. He is so not an addict - no f g reply. I am pleased because it doesn't tap into my addictive nature and feed it. It also means that I can just get on with some studying.
Ha ha and here I am typing on my blog.
Right right right - some studying - 1 hour and then maybe even an early night.
I have eaten - had a nice pudding and as always when I have had a nice pudding I want some more.
Feeling very hormonally bloated and fat tonight. Uncomfortable. I hate the menopause. Still having it comparatively early may mean that I will be through it sooner and things will improve before I am ageing with age - if you know what I mean???
Phew. I tell you it's damned complicated being me sometimes - most of the time.

It was difficult working today with my clients, thinking of Russell and worrying about them.

Morning after

I cried a lot last night. Not just for Russell but for all the other addicts whose lives are snuffed out. It's not about the choice not to use drugs or alcohol but the lack of choice - the emotions that seem so difficult to deal with.
I felt very very bleak and black last night. Not so much this morning. This morning I am in disbelief about Russell. I remember feeling that with every single addict that has died since I've been working with addiction too. S just before Christmas. The same thing. I keep picturing them dead. It's possibly a way to make it more real. Because, of course, I won't be at Russell's funeral. I didn't know him that well really. I kne him and chatted to him if I was at a meeting or saw him in passing but I wasn't a friend of his nor he mine. So they only way to get to grips is to picture him dead. It might seem weird to others. I think it's a tactic, maybe it's just torture.
I did want to use last night though. I wanted to be dead too. That is such an easy corner to skulk off to.

I remember with my mum, when she first died, that it would suddenly hit me that she had died. It seemed like I would forget every few minutes and the pain when I remembered was just like a knife cutting through my heart. Phew emotional pain has got to be the worst for me.
I still miss Frank. He died, wow, in 1986 or 1987? Can't quite remember, oh no it was 1986 or 1987 that I finally found out and his mother told me he had died 2 years earlier. osh I still can't believe he is dead.
I find loss through death painful. I find loss of living people difficult too.

In this country it's all so tabboo to talk about it aswell. When women wail in areas like the Middle East or there is grieving like the older Europeans do with the curtains of the homes closed and wearing black and openly crying, I think it is so much healthier. We are all going to die. I prefer to talk about the peson that has died and express my feelings. I wouldn't have said this before though. So I must let go of the anger that I am arousing about this. The anger is certainly linked to something else, perhaps the futile death of someone so young having died. I am angry with Russell for dying. Bloody hell Russell!

I was about to start writing knowing that I have a little audience of one - hello if you are reading - and it would have been all intellectual nonsense. The trouble is I can let ego take over and write from my head instead of my heart. That's nothing to do with the reader/s. It's to do with my ego.
I posited the question to a few people about how they manage their ego. Only one person has responded saying let's talk. Ha! I will see her tomorrow so I will see if we can instigate a conversation about ego. It's taken a while for me to even get a little understanding about ego. I have looked up the word so many times.
I experienced it though this last week. It's quite sneaky.
Having recieved these messages via FRU from my first husbands third wife - already sounds damned complicated doesn't it? - I interpreted from what she was saying that M had really really been hurt by my leaving. What's worse and I had never been sure, he blames me for being so "moody" with the following wives/partners because I had affairs. I had never been sure that he knew I was having an affair. I was 21 he was 24/25. The marriage was such a messy nonsense. We were separated after 3 months. I am going into justification now. I am not at all proud of behaving in such a hurtful way. I have always known I hurt him. I would love to be able to remove that hurt. I have felt such shame through the years for my behaviours.
I am much much more aware these days. I can see how bloody fucked up my notion of love and sex etc is. With such low self esteem the only way I knew how to relate to men was sexually and yet if they wanted sex it meant that they were torturing me. Sex with strangers -easy! Sex with someone I want to love and cherish me - bastard! I have felt so horrid that I have felt like really hurting that person physically.Ugh I can feel that disgust and angst even now.
Well I would like the opportunity to say to M how deeply sorry I am for my behaviour. I want to tell him that it's a pity that the work I have done to date started so late and too late not to cause harm to him and others. BY this blog I put it into the Universe that I am truly truly sorry. And I hope that with my self awareness and continuing work on myself I will not intentionally cause such harm again.
Sorry.

Russell

Russell died last night!

It's just so so weird. It hurts so much. It's not that I knew him incredibly well or had a really close relationship. It's death itself that hurts.

What is it? There's a connection. The connection I think is he WAS in recovery, then he relapsed and he's dead.

The weirdest thing of all? I spoke with him on the phone on Wednesday. In the 5 years he's been in the rooms I have never ever called him. I cannot reconcile this. I spoke with him. It's the suddenness of him being snapped out of life.

I rang a bell for him tonight.

I will remember him saying I will pass the goblet instead of passing the pot.

He wore funny jumpers.

Bloody hell he shared for ages, every time and all around the houses.

He died in hospital.

My mum on Mother's Day

Usually Mother's Day has little impact on me. This year has been oddly different but not so odd really.
Working my steps I am at step 8 - Made a list of people we had harmed and became willing to make amends to them.
I have a lot of raw awareness recently from working steps 6 and 7 and it's been coincidental that a lot of people from my past both recent past and distant past too who have helped with the increasing self awareness and the realisation of amends.

I was usually late or disruptive with things like my mum's birthday and Mother's Day and Christmas - the perceived major days of the year which my mum took very seriously.
Today I am aware yet again how often I upset her. She was an incredible woman, eccentric, funny, very caring, very differing views on matters than some of my own, feisty, vivacious, well liked and so on. She was larger than life at times and I loved her very much.
I am so so sorry that I didn't value her more when she was alive and at times respect her more like the little things that were so important to her. I could have been less selfish at times but I was so bloody arrogant and stubborn (and very very ill with addiction).
I know she loved me very much and I loved her and still do.
I miss her so that it hurts in my heart. The pain sometimes is so great it feels like I could explode with it.

I managed to put my selfish aside today for an hour and drove to her grave. It means little to me - she is not there and all I remember of it is putting her coffin in that hole. Some people I know find something helpful about a grave. However, I know my mum would like to think people would tend her grave and put flowers there. And so I did despite really not wanting to - having to go out when I needed to be studying and just not wanting to make the effort as it means so little to me. I did it in her honour and to say sorry.
I cried all the way there so stopped and bought myself a cafetiere which I have avoided for years. I don't seem to live life without something addictive - my food is in order but my caffeine intake has increased so that the effect is no longer happening. Poo.

So yes my heart is aching for her. If only she could come back. It's not spirit her or anything else that I want it's alive her. I want to cuddle her, I want to smell her, I want to here her voice, I want to see her laughing which in itself used to make me laugh. She rolled with laughter. Even her annoying ways I want. She used to phone me at least 5 times a day with absolutely rubbish news. I want that too. She had so many funny tales that made up her life, I would just hurt with laughter listening to her.

I feel as if I carry so much sorrow sometimes.