Category Archives: Mental Health

Day 21: Making Decisions Part 2

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If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking ‘Day 21’ of what? Have a quick read about my challenge.

My wrist is finally better!

Actually, it was better two days ago but I chose not to write. Why? Because I had forced myself to write on:

Day 18: Today I am cheating!

 Day 19: Pain Prohibits Progress… Or does it? Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.

Day 20: Today, I am sharing an unpublished comedy short film, (it still hurts to type).

It had been so painful, whimpering as I typed. Pitiful! I had pushed myself too far, so when I was able to type I didn’t want to. I resented my blog. I felt it had a hold on me forcing me to do things I didn’t want to do. 

So I made a decision…

Don’t write.

Sounds simple doesn’t it?

Far from it. When we make a decision, we get so caught up in the minutiae that we can’t see the wood for the trees. I was beating myself up that I was failing at my goal challenge

I felt deflated, the novelty had worn off, not only mine but that of my readers. The views had plummeted. I thought, “My writing must be getting worse not better. It’s just boring, no one wants to read it”

Therefore, I decided – to reevaluate my goal.

‘My’ is the important word here. The challenge I set myself was exactly that. My challenge. I had decided it. Therefore, I can change it.

Altering a goal doesn’t mean you have failed. It means the original outcome, not doubtcome – Day 17: Making Decisions. Part 1 has not turned out the way you wanted. So what? Change it. 

I had to decide.

Do I…

  1. Throw in the towel. It was a bad idea, anyway.
  2. Keep pushing myself to do it every day, just make them shorter or cheat
  3. Do less of them 

When making a decision, the first thing to do is establish your options. Then weigh up the pros and cons. Then pick one. If possible, sleep on it. You will sleep better because you have made a decision. In the morning, if it still feels right, you can take action towards it.

Just because you have made a decision doesn’t mean you have to act on it immediately. Unless, of course, it is a life or death situation. Sit with it for a while, discuss it with friends or family. Then decide what course of action to take.

My husband has a saying, “What’s the worst that can happen?” It is a useful way to consider your options and make a decision. If there aren’t serious consequences to your choice, then make it there and then. You can always change your mind later. Another one of his favourite sayings, “What’s the point of having a mind if you can’t change it?” This takes the pressure off. Very few decisions are life threatening, so don’t overthink them. However, be wary of this one though, it can cause you to not taking responsibility for your actions. That’s an entirely different thing.

So what did I decide and how did I do it? I looked at my options.

  1. Throw in the towel. It was a bad idea, anyway. 

I very nearly chose this one. When it comes to writing I lack confidence. I worry people will think it’s rubbish. If I stopped my blog it would take away all the pressure I had put on myself. My writing won’t be rejected, therefore, nor will I. 

I needed to go back to the beginning and remind myself why I had set this challenge. I want to write a book about what I have been through. I want to help people see there is hope when they believe they can’t take anymore.

One I had reminded myself why. The decision was easy. I am not giving up. My motivation to tell my story is strong enough to out way my fear or rejection. A, was kicked into touch.

  • Keep pushing myself to do it every day, just make them shorter or cheat. 

My friends say they can count on me because I always do what I say I am going to. I take pride in that. I am reliable. I said I would write and post every day. If I don’t, I am going back on my word. That doesn’t sit well with me. I was stuck on this for a while. Then I thought about my life coaching training Day 11: Do you think you are stupid?

I flipped the way I was thinking about it. Helping others is an integral part of me. Many of you are supporting me by reading my blog. Thank you to all of you. But is reading it every day too much for you? Do you see the email come in and think? “I want to support Liz, but I just can’t do it every day. I have so many other things to do.” When I thought I might be putting too much pressure on you, my decision was easy. Kick B into touch.

This leaves c) Do less of them 

Having worked through the pros and cons of A and B, C was the outright winner. A win win result is something I strive for in all aspects of life. I would still be heading towards my goal of developing a writing style and learning how to get my thoughts and feelings across to others. However, there would be a lot less pressure on me, to achieve something daily and you, to support me daily.

So that is what I am going to do. Less. I have spent years working towards doing less. I am renowned for giving myself too much to do. Does this mean I am finally learning? I hope so.

From now on, I will write at least 300 words 6 times a week (giving myself a day off, I am not very good at that either) but I will only post a blog 3 times a week. 

Let’s see how my decision pans out.

I feel this post rambles on a bit, so I apologise. However, the part of my challenge that I will not be changing is the not editing part, for now at least. Just write and post. If I deliberate too much about the content, there is a chance, I will post nothing and dwell over my writing too much.

I hope that you have gained something from me explaining my process for decision making. If so, please let me know by leaving a comment.

I would be interested to know how you feel about my decision. Has it taken the pressure off you, too?


Have a great day
If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment.

Thanks, Liz

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them, they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 19: Pain Prohibits Progress or does it? Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.

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I didn’t sleep well last night. My painful wrist kept me awake. Frustration leaked from my body, along with the sweat from both pain and humidity, not only because I thought I would endure another day of discomfort but also because it meant, yet again, I wouldn’t write Making Decisions Part 2 Day 17: Making Decisions. Part 1

If I allowed it, this feeling would have consumed me. Filled me with self-pity. Poor me. Why me? Just when I had recovered from yet another surgery, the pain was back to prohibit my progress. I can’t type. I can’t keep up with my challenge

Instead, I adopted the approach given by Clint Eastwood as Sergeant Thomas Highway in Heartbreak Ridge (a great movie).

Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.

I wanted to post something in my blog. The pain was too much.

Improvise.

Yesterday and today, I have used previous blogs relating to pain. 

Today’s: Pain ends relationships and lives

Adapt.

Modifying my current blog posts enabled me to provide content without writing it there and then.

Overcome.

I achieved my goal for today in a completely different way than I had planned. Guess what? That’s okay. Plans change. Roll with the waves. As long as you get there in the end, does it really matter what path you took?

Have a great day. If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment.

Thanks, Liz

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them, they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 16: Alcohol-induced narcissism

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If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking ‘Day 16’ of what? Have a quick read about my challenge.

As our guests entered, joy leapt through me. We hadn’t seen them for a year. The last time we saw them, he had not been well. Today he looked great. Slimmer, tanned and happy. Holding his head high. 

“You look really well.” I exclaimed. You could see the pride flash across his face.

His wife, as lovely as ever, relaxed and looking forward to a long and leisurely lunch.

A toast. Friends reunited.

Whispered questions about my health. I responded with gratitude and promising news. Feeling loved and cared for. 

Hours later, we were having lunch with a narcissist.

How can that be?

There was a monster amongst us; belligerent, aggressive, foul-mouthed, and offensive. Not the person who had arrived a few hours earlier.

Alcohol can bring the worst out in a person. Fortunately, over the years, I have learnt to slow my drinking down to protect myself and others. See, Day 2: Alcohol to find out why. My glass of Rosé topped up with ice, over time, becoming little more than flavoured water. This is my trick. I always have a wine glass with something in it. It looks like I am drinking the same as everyone else. Self-preservation. A fine art created over years of commitment.

As the alcohol flowed, the temperament changed. The fun-loving, gentle giant morphed into an unrecognisable tyrant.

Occasionally, my tolerance levels wore thin. I attempted to stay out of the conversation, only to be questioned, “Are you ignoring me?” To which I replied. “Yes, you’re constantly moaning.” Unsurprisingly, this didn’t land well.

One heated discussion had me leave the table temporarily to gather my thoughts and wonder how I would get through the meal.

Another, after a barrage of arrogant interruptions, I stood my ground and had my say. The retort I received was “You’re a bitch.”

I have been called worse, however, ‘bitch’ really gets under my skin. My blood boiling. It took all the restraint I had left not to leap across the table and punch him to the ground. 

The bill arrived promptly.

An eventful journey home only prolonged the anguish.

Finally, safely at our front door, I couldn’t help myself. From behind, I leant forward, squeezed his shoulder, and said thank you for the afternoon, omitting the word ‘lovely’, I hasten to add.

Exiting the vehicle, turning to walk away. I stopped in my tracks. Walked over to his open window, gently kissed him on the cheek and said goodbye. 

“Why the hell would you do that?” I hear you cry. Because that’s just who I am.

On receiving the kiss, his eyes rose slowly, the manic look gone. Instead, I was staring back at a young boy, recently chastised by a parent. All the venom had left his tongue, the hatred gone from his eyes. A little lost boy who knew he had overstepped the mark.

With anger still fuelling my veins, I hadn’t noticed his demeanour. That didn’t come back to me until this morning, while I was mulling over the calamity of the previous day.

I felt empty. I pitied him. I felt sorrow. What should have been a wonderful time with friends had become a battleground.

All because of alcohol. 

If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment.

Thanks, Liz

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them, they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 12: ‘It’s time to talk day’

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If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking ‘Day 12’ of what? Have a quick read about my challenge.

Did you know ‘It’s time to talk day’? I found this out after receiving an email from Mind, the mental health charity I am involved with. The timing of this is apt because today I finished a book called, When all is said by Anne Griffins (Amazon associate link). An exquisitely written debut. The book engrossed me from the first sentence to the final word. At times, I realised I wasn’t breathing. It was captivating. Don’t just take my word for it. There are nearly sixteen thousand reviews on Amazon, many of which agree with mine. 

I won’t tell you the story. I wouldn’t want to take that pleasure away from you. What I will say is when you have read it, you will want to tell people the truth about how you feel about them and what they mean to you. How you long to be with them. It provoked a deep sadness in me. We, as humans, have a terrible habit of masking the truth. We hide our truth and vulnerability for fear of being hurt, rejected or misunderstood, yet, ‘The truth will set you free’. If you know who said that quote, please put it in the comments.

I genuinely believe that communication is the reason I am still alive today. I told people how I felt when I was in my darkest days. Many didn’t understand it, but they stuck by me like glue. I couldn’t have shaken them off even if I had wanted to. If you need to talk to someone but feel the truth is too much for your loved ones. Why don’t you. Talk to a stranger (previous blog on the subject)

I love to talk to strangers. In fairness, what I should say is that I love to listen to strangers. My husband says to me, “Why do complete strangers end up telling you their life stories? ” In short, I listen with empathy and without judgment. I allow them to expose their innermost feelings in safety. 

One day, a few years ago, I was in a dark and frightening place. Inside my mind, that is. I couldn’t verbalise it, so I took to my blog, wrote what I felt and sent it out into the ether. I received tremendous support not only from friends but also from strangers. People felt my pain and instantly came to my aid. Thank you again to all of you. You know who you are. The blog title: I want to be thinner

If you are struggling with your mental health, let someone know. If you have family and friends who will support you, great. If you don’t, pick up the phone and call Mind, The Samaritans, or another charity. They, too, will listen with empathy and without judgment. Whatever you do, don’t stay silent.


If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment.

Thanks, Liz

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them, they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 11: Do you think you are stupid?

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If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking ‘Day 11’ of what? Have a quick read about my challenge.

Besides, the daily routines I mentioned on Day 7 ‘Finding the time’. I also do the NYT games. Wordle, connections, mini crossword and letterbox. I was extremely hesitant to start these games because I thought I wouldn’t be able to do them. The crossword, in particular. Why? Because I doubt my intelligence. I chose not to say “because I am stupid”. Finally, I have worked out I am not. For most of my life, I thought I was.

My brother and sister (Bonjour) are incredibly smart, not just academically either. They are both musically gifted too. Growing up in the shadow of these two left me feeling less than adequate. I remember once my grandma saying, “Oh yes, you’re the one who can’t do maths.” She meant nothing by it. For her, it was a factual statement. It not only crushed me, but stayed with me throughout my entire childhood. Well, let’s be honest, probably until I was in my forties.

I think a lot of things stayed with me until my forties. Until I hit rock bottom. When the only options were a) to end it all, b) quit fucking about and get my shit together. Fortunately, I chose b. It wasn’t easy, but I have never regretted it.

Thinking you are stupid holds you back in every aspect of your life. It certainly did for me. Afraid to do things because I wouldn’t be able to. Because I’m stupid. My stupidity embarrassed me. Interestingly, though. I didn’t view other people like that. If someone couldn’t do something I would always say, “well, we can’t do everything, some people are better at things than others”. I have always seen the potential in others. I have struggled to see mine.

As I have aged, I have begun to really dislike the word stupid. It is paralysing. It stops people in their tracks. All these talents, buried beneath the surface, never to materialize because of how we view ourselves. It is devastating. 

I made steps in the right direction in my thirties when I studied to be a life coach. I have studied more since leaving education than I did when I was there. Becoming a life coach wasn’t a lifelong plan (excuse the pun). In a way, it chose me. I had just finished having 6 weeks of therapy. I felt on top of the world. I don’t remember having felt that good before. I was scared to lose it. I told my husband, “I want to do something that maintains this feeling”. A couple of days later, he produced the details of a life coach course. We decided this would be a good idea. 

Before you learned to coach others, the course challenged your limiting beliefs. I had never heard that phrase. It was a whole new experience for me. One that changed my life forever. For the better. It taught me how to change the way I viewed things. My abilities primarily. How to turn sentences around from negative to positive to boost my self-belief. For instance, I achieved grade three in the piano. Until then, I had always said, “I only got to grade three”. Following the guidelines of the course, I changed the sentence to “I achieved grade three in the piano. ” That made it sound much better. An accomplishment. An achievement. I cannot tell you how many times, before taking the course, I had said, “I haven’t achieved anything.” As time went on, my list became extensive. I finally understood that not only had I achieved a great deal. I was not stupid. That course was worth its weight in gold. 

If you think you are stupid, I implore you to try that exercise. Notice when you say something derogatory about yourself. Reframe the sentence using only the facts. Absorb that information. Then congratulate yourself on your achievement.

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Before I go, here is another example. When I was thirty-two, a group of us went to the Alps to climb Mont Blanc. We didn’t. On the way down from Aiguilles du Tour, 3544m high, I was too slow because of knee pain. The guide told me I couldn’t attempt Mont Blanc because it would put our lives at risk. From then on, I said to people, “I only managed to climb Aiguilles du Tour.” After doing the course, I said, “I climbed Aiguilles Du Tour.” After a while, that sank in. Bloody hell, Liz, that is so cool. Other than the people in our group, I didn’t know anyone else that had done that. What an achievement!


If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment.

Thanks, Liz

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them, they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 10 – Seventeen – Part 2

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If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking ‘Day 10’ of what? Have a quick read about my challenge.

Back at my desk, this time, it is early morning, six am. I am an early bird, following in my father’s footsteps. A farmer. The early bird catches the worm and all that. Dad has always told me, “The best weather is in the morning.” In England, that is often the case, but not so much in Barbados, where I am currently. Torrential rain is the standard morning routine. On a good day, that clears the air and the way for a good day. Of late, it has rained on and off all day.

Before I digress. I will start part 2. I finished yesterday’s post saying I would tell you why my children and I all had ‘Carpe Diem’ tattoos. Day 9

Already, I am swallowing hard and sweating, my palms in particular.

A quick note: this will be a concise version. The aim of my challenge is to write every day, as opposed to give you in-depth versions of events. That will come when I write my book. It will also allow me to ’embrace the nettle’ Day 8 gradually so as not to have another mental breakdown.

The date: 11th July 2017. My son’s 19th birthday. He was not interested. He was broken, his heart shattered, the splinters of which penetrated my soul every time I looked at him. It shouldn’t be this way. How is it right that I still have my father and my children don’t? Along with feeling my children’s pain, guilt creeps in. Despite several attempts to block it. Despite my logical mind saying it was not my fault. It latched itself to me like the tentacles of an octopus. It wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

It had only been a few weeks since my daughter and I held Bruce’s hand as he took his final breath. Surrounded by many family members. I swear we were all holding our breath in time with Bruce. The gaps between breaths became painfully long. The breaths themselves laboured and hoarse. In the silence, we wondered if we had just witnessed his final breath, relieving him, in our hearts we wanted that for him. Stop the pain. At the same time, our ears desperately searching for another breath to know he hadn’t left us forever. The conflict inside me was pitiful. The inevitable came. The silence was drowned by the cascade of tears. 

Death is so final.

The morning of the 11th came. It was unavoidable. One day follows the previous; that’s the way it goes. What was I going to do? How could I alleviate the sadness? I couldn’t. Then I had an idea. Fortunately, during the month preceding this day, my children and I had built a bond never to be broken. “Let’s cement it,” I thought. Let’s become one in a way that will always not only join us but also honour the man whose death had left us empty. My son loves tattoos. it seemed the obvious answer. I love the phrase “carpe Diem’ at school I had enjoyed Latin. I even won the Latin prize once. If only they had known at that stage that I would walk out of my o’level mock exam after having written only my name, never to attend another Latin lesson in my life. They probably would have thought twice.

For me, ‘Carpe Diem’ says it all. ‘Seize the day’; essentially, that is all you have. You can only live now, not in the future, not in the past. I decided I would arrange for the three of us to have a tatto done that day, I typed out Carpe Diem in a selection of fonts and then went to my daughter to ask her thoughts on both my idea and the best style. She agreed with me that it was a good way forward. We chose the font we liked with the intention of allowing my son the final choice.

Together, we went to his room. The piece of paper held tight in my shaking hand. He agreed. I could feel the relief fill my body. Something good was going to come from this day. We got an appointment. Took our turns. The kids ridiculed me for having my first tattoo but, at the same time, lovingly showed concern for the pain I may be enduring as the tattoo was being injected into scar tissue. It wasn’t painful. How could it be when I had witnessed one of the strongest people I know fade to nothing, his body infested with pain.

We left the parlour knowing no matter what happened from then on, we were united. We still are.

If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment.

Thanks, Liz

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please feel free to use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 9 – Seventeen – Part 1

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If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking ‘Day 10’ of what? Have a quick read about my challenge.

I have just looked at my phone and it’s 17:17. A wave of frustration washes over me. I haven’t done my writing yet. I hate having things hanging over me. I like to do all my chosen daily routines in the morning. It calms my mind and I feel free. I am now agitated as we are about to sit down and relax as the sun sets on the horizon. Well the others are. I am begrudgingly sat in the office to do my writing. This is not the plan, i enjoy writing, it shouldn’t be a chore. I could of course not do it today. I mean, it’s not as though someone is forcing me to do this. No one has a gun at my head saying, “Write or I’ll shoot.” Should I just forget it and say. “It doesn’t matter if I miss a day.” To me it does. As with all things I decide to do, if I don’t do it, I feel I have let myself down. Even more so, I feel I am unlikely to achieve my goals if I give in. So here goes.

Seventeen is one of my favourite numbers, I was born on the seventeenth, maybe that’s why. My birth date is a palindrome, reads the same forwards and backwards – 17.8.71 (if you have the same date format as the English that is). I have always thought that was pretty cool.

I have a tattoo on my back, in between the scars from my spinal fusion. It says ‘Carpe Diem’, for anyone who doesn’t know, that is Latin for ‘Seize the Day’. Beneath it is a tally chart adding up to seventeen. The number of surgeries I had undergone at that time. I was hoping it would stay that way. Sadly not, number eighteen reared its ugly head in November. I am undecided as to whether I will add it to my tattoo.

I had been planning to have the tattoo for several years, I liked the idea of the tally chart. A memorandum of what I have been through, well some of it. Confirmation that no matter what is thrown at me, I keep going. I had the ‘Carpe Diem’ done with my children, we all had the same tattoo in different places. The reason why? I’ll tell you tomorrow, the sun has almost set, I am out of here!


If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment.

Thanks, Liz

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them, they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 8 – “Embracing the nettle”

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Do you ever read the first few lines of a book and know you will love it? Exactly that has just happened to me. 

I find it fascinating how we all like to read different writing styles. This is my fourth book in two weeks. It’s easier to read on holiday when we don’t have all our ordinary daily tasks to do. The book I finished yesterday didn’t connect with me. I was genuinely disappointed. It was a collection of true stories, all of which had happened to the author. What happened to her was awful, frightening and sad. How she overcame it was inspiring. And yet, the book left me cold. I had no emotional connection with her. 

I decided it must be her writing style. It didn’t resonate with me. I desperately wanted it to. I kept persevering, but my feelings towards her never changed. She was somehow detached from her stories, something lacking. They were brutally honest, vulnerable and heartbreaking tales, and yet I felt no empathy. Unusual for me, last year I asked a selection of people to tell me what my best qualities were. I was working on how best to utilise my skills to serve others. Empathetic was at the top of the list. So why didn’t I feel empathy towards the author?

Last year, I started a writing course, how to write a memoir, as ultimately that is what I want to do (hence all this practising). The teacher suggests you must have moved on from what has happened to you to be able to write it objectively. Whether or not you agree with her is entirely up to you. I believe she has a point. However, I also find that when I am right in the middle of hell, it is easier to express my true emotions as opposed to writing about them retrospectively. Also, your mind has a habit of playing tricks on you. When you write about things that happened years ago, your memories may be distorted. You block things out. You alter the details. You may make them less traumatic or more so. All of these things, in my opinion, are our brain’s way of processing what has happened to us. Protecting us from the past that has damaged us in some way. One of the fears I have about writing a memoir is that I haven’t remembered things correctly and I might do myself or someone else a disservice. The teacher says to write as truthfully as you can. Therefore, that is what I’ll do.

I understand that my writing style will not be to everyone’s taste. I have accepted that. As with most things in life, you are not going to please everyone all of the time. If you think you can, you are delusional. I also know that it is one of the reasons I haven’t started my book. The fear of rejection. Someone taking, not only, all my hard work but also my experiences to pieces. This is why I am doing this challenge. Tentatively putting my toe in the water to see how the ripples flow.

A very dear friend of mine, we will call him GW, has been reading my blog. Recently, he sent me an email. Here were his thoughts:

“Fear of failure seems to be stopping you embracing the nettle, and you bounce a bit on ideas like this, and that’s a shame because I think you have it in you to write something more meaningful.”

GW – Just so you know, every time I sit down to write, I think of what you wrote. By the way, I had to look up what “embracing the nettle” meant. I know you are right. What I have noticed is that as I get to the end of what I am writing, I usually find what it is I actually want to say. What is hiding behind all the bullshit I wrote at the beginning. It’s like my brain is protecting me from my past traumas, but as I chip away at it, as the writing continues, its barriers begin to weaken, and the true meaning of the piece begins to surface. 

I imagine that’s the point of editing. You write a thousand words, of which you may only use one sentence. But that sentence may change the way people think forever.

As this challenge is all about writing and not editing, I know it will continue to have a protective layer, but that’s ok. This isn’t about an end result right now. It is all about finding my writing style, my voice and my purpose and hopefully, the end result will be helping others. Each day, I am learning and becoming less fearful. One day, I know I will be “embracing the nettle” and letting my inner self show. 

In the meantime, thank you all for your support and encouragement. If you have anything to say that will help me, please write a comment.

If you would like to join me on this journey, please like and subscribe

Thanks, Liz

If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking “Day 8 of what? Have a quick read of this explanation:

I have set myself a challenge and need your help, (please).

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please feel free to use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 7: Finding the time

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How is it that we are forever searching for more time?

I am currently on holiday; time should be plentiful. And yet, I have done it again, chosen to fit too many things into my day. Something I am renowned for. Every year on our holiday, I have grand ideas about starting new daily regimes. This challenge is one of them. I have also added exercising, face yoga (yes, I have succumbed), reading, sunbathing and swimming. I also have a long teeth brushing routine because when I was suicidal, I drank a lot of alcohol and didn’t brush my teeth. Years later, when I finally went to the dentist, he said I had bad gum disease and was at risk of my teeth falling out. The only way to resolve this was to use interdental brushes, and clean every tooth individually, this takes about 10 – 15 minutes, that’s not long, I hear you cry. However, I have to wait an hour after eating before I can do it so as not to soften the enamel. Invariably, if I don’t do it before I eat breakfast, it doesn’t get done. I tend to eat every couple of hours and once I have had my first meal, I forget to brush my teeth because the rest of daily life takes over.

I was managing to do all these things until our family came to stay: three adults and a one-year-old. Therein lies the rub. Now, I want to have time with them and do my daily routine. For any of you who have young grandchildren, you will know how much time they consume. They are so innocent, fascinating and inspiring that you can spend hours watching and interacting with them. Experience all the joy, and then you can hand them back (an added benefit to being a grandparent). My husband and I were happy not to eat an evening meal, instead having a big late lunch and snacks in the evening. Now, with a family in tow, my maternal instincts have kicked in, and I want to provide lovely meals for them and ensure everyone is fed and watered. We want to take them to all the places we love and absorb their joy, which in turn reignites ours. We want to play games with them and chat. All of these things take up time. So, how I can I fit in the other things I want to do?

I am full of emotions, such as joy, excitement, frustration, guilt, and gratitude. I am grieving lost time. I appreciate that may appear extreme, but it is a genuine human feeling that can wreak havoc with our minds. Does that make me sound selfish? That’s where the guilt comes in. For what it’s worth, I am not selfish, it is one of my problems, I am too selfless. I put other people’s wants and needs ahead of my own. Sometimes, so much so that I don’t know what I want and need.

As I write this, my grandson has started to cry. Already my stomack has knotted, I want to come to the rescue, I want to help. Make the problem go away for my daughter. But if I leave my laptop, that in itself, will create a problem of my own. I will not achieve my writing for today. Resulting in a surge of emotions all over again.

Where does my constant desire to come to the rescue come from? Did I feel no one came to rescue me from boarding school, so I have spent my life wanting to do for others what wasn’t done for me? Taking their pain away because mine was crucifying? I think that is a strong possibility. 

Can’t do this, going to help my daughter. I’ll be back.

I’m back. I was only a couple of minutes. They are trying to build his confidence in the water. I am not needed. Is this something else I crave – to be needed? I imagine so. It’s a fairly common human feeling. It helps build your confidence and self-worth. On the flip side, if you offer help and it’s not needed, it can lead to feelings of rejection and/or inadequacy.

I have no definitive answers. What I do know is that these emotions and feelings need to be acknowledged and attended to.

Wish me luck.

If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment. If you make a comment, please explain what it was that made you feel that way.

Thanks, Liz

If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking “Day 6 of what? Have a quick read of this explanation:

I have set myself a challenge and need your help, (please).

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please feel free to use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7

Day 6 – Do you die in your dreams?

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I woke up with a jolt this morning, just when I was about to be told how I had died. Apparently, I, and another woman, had died at the same time, 06.30am but how or why, I have no idea. I felt so disturbed when I woke up. So many thoughts running through my head. The strongest of which, I don’t want to die.

How reassuring after all the years I had spent wanting to die. The dream, unsurprisingly, was strange. It began with me waking up, having, seemingly, been asleep for a long time. People were irritated with me, unkind to me. At the beginning of the dream I didn’t now I was dead, then gradully i noticed, some people could see me and some couldn’t. One woman came up to me all friendly, smiling and waving saying “Oh you’re here too.” That was when I realised.

I started talking to the young lady whose mother had died, she had been left in charge and responsible for a lot of money. She was concerned about what her boyfriend was going to do. Straight away, I said, “How can I help, am I stuck here until I find a solution?”

Isn’t that what so much of life is all about, being stuck until we find a solution?

It is strange that I remembered this dream. I rarely remember dreams. My husband remembers so many of his, he gets up and regales yet another entirely random story that his brain has concoted throughout the night. Me – nothing.

I used to have night terrors. They were so bad. I say, “I used to.” I still get them but not very often. I wake up screaming, usually “oh my God” over and over. Scares the shit out of Murray. If I am lucky, he catches me before I get that bad, gently rubs me saying “it’s ok, I’m here”. And it stops, leaving my heart thumping and my head scrambled.

One night, years ago, I was screaming so loudly, it woke up all three of our children, poor things all ran into our bedroom very distressed, panicked and scared. They thought we were being attacked. Thank god we weren’t, because they would have been attacked too. 

One of terrors was different from the others, I was dreaming I was being buried alive in a coffin, that bit was the same as the others, (after a while I decided I felt trapped in life and set about resolving that, which helped enormously). This time I didn’t wake up screaming. Instead, I walked to our bedroom door but I couldn’t open it, I am guessing this was me trying to get out of my coffin, I went back to bed. Murray asked if I was ok, I replied “I can’t think of anyone else I want to die with.” and promptly went back to sleep.

The strange thing about my dream last night, well clearly, there were a lot of strange things but, one of them was, while I was having the dream, I was thinking like me, I was trying to figure out how I could help this young lady, take all her problems away. What can I fix before I go. I wasn’t thinking about me, Oh god I’m dead, the things I will miss out on, what I wanted to do, feeling sorry for myself. None of that crossed my mind. I live to help people and I guess I will still be doing that on my death bed.

I knew someone else like that. Who did that. My ex husband, Bruce, the father of my children, died of cancer in 2017, the most horrifci time of my life. Bruce was one of kindest most generous, loving people I had ever met. When he was in the hospice, he was surrounded by his family, he came from a large family, there were so many of us that a lot of us had to stand. He was lying there, a shadow of the man he used to be, pale, thin and weak. One of the last things he ever said, “I feel so sorry for the other people here, they haven’t got as many visitors as me” He was dying and still thinking of others, what an honourable human being he was. An example for us all. Such a waste of a life.

Which confirms all that I feel every day now, I no longer want to die. I want to live, I want to help people, take away their pain, show them life can be better. I am still working out how best I can do this. Hopefully writing and posting every day is the beginning.

If you would like to join me on this journey, please like, subscribe and comment. If you make a comment, please explain what it was that made you feel that way.

Thanks, Liz

If you have stumbled across my blog and are thinking “Day 6 of what? Have a quick read of this explanation:

I have set myself a challenge and need your help, (please).

For anyone reading my posts who has a story in them they are struggling to tell. I would recommend getting Anne Lamott’s book ‘Bird by Bird’. It has inspired me to create this challenge and is full of great knowledge and insight. She also has a wonderful sense of humour and writing style.

If you would like to buy ‘Bird by Bird’, please feel free to use my Amazon associate link: https://amzn.to/47Pdkx7