Hippy, Goth, Rock Chic Geek

I've never really fitted into any specific genre completely, I'd like to think I had a particular identity but I'm more like a bit of this and a bit of that.

The hippy in me is the part that loves anything New Age, I'm into meditation and crystals and would love to live a free and easy life away from the city. I don't have much free time now but there was a period of my life where I felt I was really into all of this.

The Goth in me is the part that is fascinated by dark fantasies in particular Vampires, Werewolves and other supernaturals. I also love wearing black (When I'm not having a pink day) I love the way Goths go way over the top in their dress and make up, and I'd much rather be pale and dark haired than tanned and blonde.

The Rock Chic is self explanatory. I love rock music. I'm a big fan of all music really, even classical and opera, but if I had to choose just one genre above the rest it would be rock. I like blokes with long hair too but I've never dated one.

I have no problems admitting to being a Geek, so long as you realise I don't do freaky circus acts! I am into technology and education, I was considered a swot at school and a bookworm, but I was never bullied. I'm also into science fiction to a certain degree and I get obsessive over things.

I have no dress sense, I'm most happy in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and no they don't have to be branded or designer. I'd like to wear dresses and heels more often but they are not practical with three little ones to look after and to be honest I go with comfort over fashion.

I've never had much idea about what to do with my hair either, being naturally mousey and straight. When I was younger I would have it permed and backcombed, anything to stop it from looking straight. Then I went through a stage where it was always tied up. In my 30's I decided to go blonde for the first time, and I hated it, I couldn't wait for it to grow out. When straight hair became fashionable I was happy for the first time. I need just a few seconds to straighten out a couple of loose strands and I'm fitting in. My biggest bugbear now is having to dye my hair to cover the grey.

I don't wear make-up. Sometimes I'll slap on a little tinted moisturiser, lip balm and eye liner, but it has to be a special occasion before I apply anything else. I do actually enjoy 'making up' but I don't like cleaning it all off, and I don't often have to the time to do it anyway. At present I'm still waiting for the chloasma from my last pregnancy to fade properly, at it's worst it looked like a really bad 80's foundation application, you know the sort that ends at the edge of your face leaving your throat white while the rest of your face is brown. Last summer everyone thought I was tanned, but I don't leave the house without a smothering of sun block!

Things can only get better

Have you ever thought well things just can't get any worse? I was there last week, then things got worse, and keep on getting worse, I've stopped hoping for them to start getting better now and accepted that this is a really rough patch that I'm just going to have to get through. Forever the optimist I know what doesn't kill me will make me stronger. (Shouldn't I be made of steel by now?)

I don't want to get into it all but it's not just one thing that's getting me down but everything, relationships, money, health, children, the house, the car etc etc. And the world around me is shockingly tragic, even things that have nothing to do with me personally are affecting me. Last week a little girl died in my street, I didn't know her but her tragic death has had me grieving for her and her poor family, the flowers outside are a daily reminder of the tragedy. Then while in the local supermaket the other day a lady collapsed and died. I didn't know her either, what a sad way to go in the aisle of the Co-Op.

Then there is the cruel acts of nature in Australia, New Zealand and now Japan, such tragedy, so much loss, so much sadness. I'm not directly affected but feel the sadness so deeply. And there is so much war, so much tragic loss on a daily basis, so many families and homes destroyed by man, is there anything more awful.

I'm trying to find glimmers of hope and happiness but it's so hard right now.

A little Shock

My daughter today told me today that she had been making plans for leaving home. She starts a new job on Monday on a six month contract from which she is going to save as much as possible of her wages. That won't be difficult it's not like she spends much anyway. A friend of hers has just moved to Brighton and is currently flat sharing. He is going to look for a new flat in the next six months so that my daughter can go and share with him. She will be looking for jobs in Brighton before her contract ends. A real plan.
I don't know if she will go through with it but it's really knocked me for six. She really does drive me up the wall sometimes and we've had plenty of heated moments where I've told her to go. Now that seems like something that might happen I find I don't want to lose her. Of course she needs to get on with her life and she seems like she's working things out properly, but Brighton seems such a long way away, I was kind of hoping she'd live nearby so she could come and bother me regularly. I at least expected to continue doing her washing.

Repressed Memory

It was November 8th 1973. My daddy had gone off to do the night shift at British Layland and my aunt and nan had come to visit us. We had run out of sugar for the tea so mum sent me and my cousin Angela  to the outdoor (an offlicence that sold groceries too) just up the road. It was already dark but we didn't mind, we were like best friends as well as cousins.

When we got back there was  a police car outside my house and our neighbour Joan was outside ready to intercept us. We were taken into her house and sat in the living room. It was the first time I'd been in her living room although I'd spent lots of time in her garden playing with her son Timmy and I'd been in the kitchen for drinks and snacks, but never in the living room before. I held tightly on to the packet of sugar willing myself not to put my finger through it and make a mess. I was so nervous. I handn't a clue what was happening and nothing was said. Then we were told we could go home, I don't know how long we'd been there but Joan and her husband David had watched an episode of Crossroads and made a cup of tea. Angela and I didn't speak to each other, it was quite surreal.

Then, nothing! I've tried but I just can't remember what happened next. I don't remember leaving that living room or going home. I don't remember Angela going home, seeing my mum, going to bed, nothing, it's all a complete blank.

How can I remember so much detail after so long, and remember it as if I was still there? I can even remember how I felt all knotted up inside knowing something was wrong but not knowing what it was. Yet, I don't remember anything else at all after I left Joan's house to go home.

I guess that's what you call a repressed memory?

I won't keep you in the dark. What had happened was my lovely daddy had died on the way to work.

Can't let it out

I've been trying for ages to write a post. I write it all down and then scrap it. I guess I'm not ready to share just yet.
Things haven't changed at home, I doubt they ever will.
I think I'm not a very good mum, I really haven't done a good job with my eldest and now I worry for my little ones. Will I learn from experience?
I'm little fed up at the moment

Holding it off!

Sometimes I can feel it trying to tap in, it wants me so badly, it wants to take me down to that dark place where my thoughts and feelings get taken over by stuff I don't want in my head. But I'm fighting it, it's business as usual on the outside. Cassie said today I'd been horrible lately, but that's just her, I've not said or done anything she's just feeling guilty for not doing something I've asked her too. Well, that's done now so she'll probably see me as normal again now.
The big kids, who are no longer kids but you can't believe it the way they act, are driving me nuts lately. Surely it's time they grew up now. I love them to bits but sometimes I really don't like them much.
Graham has been driving me nuts too. He continues to behave in the ways that he knows annoy or upset me, it doesn't matter what I say or do it makes not difference.
Graham and the big kids are constantly bickering with each other over anything and everything, and I'm stuck in the middle. I used to try and keep the peace, I don't have the energy anymore.
What's the point?
No-one ever listens to me anyway.
I just cook and clean and wash the clothes. And take care of the little ones. And pay all the bills. And do all the shopping. And run an on demand taxi service.

But - I don't do anything right. I lose socks, I don't keep up with the ironing (Family of 7) my cooking is crap, I'm useless with money and my taxi is always late.

And I don't keep the house clean enough even though I'm the only one (Apart from Leila) who knows how to put things IN the bin (as opposed to on top of the bin, next to the bin, behind the bin, on the floor by the bin, or even just on the floor)

I used to do things a lot better, but somehow lately I've got slower and worse. I'm not sure if it has anything to do with having three under 6 to look after?

So that's me right now, feeling low and worthless. I could go on about my money worries, about how my house is too small and really getting me down, but the truth is I'm tired of complaining. I know some people have it worse. I've been through worse and out the other side. So I'll shut up now.

Taking it's toll

Why does grief have to be so consuming? Time doesn't heal grief, that's a myth. I think the only plus point is that you feel it less frequently as time goes on, but it still hurts just as much when you do feel it.
This Christmas has been harder on me emotionally than last, as I suspected it must have been the pregnancy hormones last year that got me through. If it wasn't for the little ones I don't know if I'd bother with Christmas at all.
I went to the grave yesterday, it would have been mum's 80th birthday, and today is the second anniversary of Simeon's tragic death. I went alone with the only gift I can give, flowers, even though I knew there would be no space to place them. There were even more wreaths on there than on Christmas Eve, I think every family member and friend went there this year. While I stood there and thought of my mum and dad, my nan and my brother all there together I wanted to be there too. Wherever there is, if there even is a there, it has to be better than here right now. I miss my family so much, but I can't leave my little ones without their mummy can I. Can I?