Monday, 2 November 2015

Walking out

I walked out on my job today. It felt great.
I went on my dinner and something inside snapped like a tight cord and I found myself on autopilot, collecting my bag and putting on my coat and then just walking away. I didn't look back once. I was home in twenty minutes and feeling the most euphoric sense of relief.

This weekend has confirmed to me that I've made the right decision. Any doubts I may have had lingering like a bad smell have gone. I know in my heart this is the best decision, the only decision worth making at this moment in time. I'm not just walking away, they've pushed me most of the distance and now I'm just finishing the journey.

I didn't get paid on Friday. Everyone else on the team did, so what's the excuse for not paying me my months wages? If this isn't another element of victimising an individual I don't know what is. Too coincidental. No apology, no haste to rectify this. I spent the weekend without any money, and then Monday morning I received a disgusting 'telling off' from these assholes for voicing my concerns! They expected me to sit there meekly and do another days work without having been paid for the last 4 weeks! Are you kidding me? and to be spoken to like a child again, like shit wiped from a dirty shoe sole, I'm not having it. Not even an apology you know that, not a single 'sorry'.
Their callus attitude makes me feel worse, they have no conscious, they don't appreciate the detrimental effect of not getting paid on time, because they are part of a corrupt and selfish system.

I had made up my mind before now I thought but now it's settled. I don't want to be around those kinds of people everyday. I don't want to be unhappy every night thinking about the next day. I'm done with not being treated fairly. I'm done with being underappreciated. I am worth more than this. So this was my frame of mind when I snapped.
I've walked out and to hell with it all.
Yes I'm taking a risk, I'm also taking my life in my own hands and out of someone else's.

I'll just do what I always with what I have and take it as it comes.
This is life, it's hard, and I'm taking it one step at a time.

Sunday, 18 October 2015

Big decision

I've got a big decision to make at the end of this week. You see, as my previous blog posts have discussed, there's a particular area of my life at the moment that's not going so great. In actual fact it's depressingly awful, not the Monday Morning again kind of awful, but the I'm feeling sick every day and lying awake at night because I'm dreading what bullshit will be thrown at me next.

So here I am, I've been holding this off for three solid months, every week getting progressively worse. I'm on a bridge, on this end is where I am now, unfortunately there isn't yet anything on the other end, so the options are:
Option 1.) Stay on this end, unhappy, badly treated, in a position that's having a continuous detrimental effect on my health and mental wellbeing, also my personal life since I'm coming home every evening feeling like crap and its impossible to hide OR
Option 2.) Jump over the railings, back in the water again.

The Pros and Cons are fairly simple:

I don't want to be poor again. I like having food of my choice, the good razors and the heating on.
I also like having a purpose to each week, I actually liked what I was doing. I just have a massive, mean, bullying CUNT ruining it for me!!
Sorry...Dickhead and Arsehole are just too good for this Fat, Misery-inducing rodent! Urghhhhhh!

On the flip side, I'm being made to question my own competencies daily, when I'm only following the instructions I've been given. I'm being treated like I'm four, talked to as if I am scum scraped off the bottom of a shoe, while all my hard work and extra effort goes overlooked. I feel like I'm being down right bullied by someone who simply doesn't like me very much. There's no genuine reason for this. Maybe it's a psychological issue this person has, they've honed in on me as the weak link and they enjoy demeaning people who are easy targets. Maybe he's just a dick who gets off in making women feel inferior and pathetic. Some men are like that, I've met them before, in my opinion they're one step away from the kind who get heavy handed with their women.

I don't want to keep waking up every morning with this sick churning in my stomach and this constant headache my doctor says is all stress induced. I work hard, I do a good job. I would have been loyal if I was treated the way any person should be, with a modicum of respect. I can't appeal, I can't fight against this within the system, the system is corrupt and the warzone so small there's nowhere to hide. I can stay and continue to suffer or leave and risk entering the unknown.

So here lies my big decision. I wouldn't be contemplating this if I wasn't on my very last legs.
Jones says one day it's going to work out for me. He wants me to get this next book finished and published, he see's me doing great things. He wants me out of that (Quote): "shit hole" just as much as I do. His unshakeable support is amazing. He see's something in me I don't think anyone else does, I definitely don't know what it is. He seems to have so much faith in my ability when I have so much doubt.

Wednesday, 14 October 2015

A book

There was once a time, on the edge of childhood and adolescence, when reading a book was an escape to a sanctuary. No matter the outside world's realities, the book was a doorway into another dimension.
Now, unfortunately, in adulthood, the book is just a book.

Wednesday, 30 September 2015

I'm Eleven Years Old Again.

I'm eleven years old again, the door to the science room is opening, fluorescent lights are bouncing off the clinical grey stools and hexagon tables. My palms are sweating and no matter how many times I wring the edges of my blazer they wont dry, they just wont dry! A warm flush is drowning my skin, reddening my face and I pull my hair in front of my cheeks covering as much as possible as I press my shoulder into the wall wishing to be invisible. Unfortunately, there's nowhere to hide in a classroom, and suddenly there they are, the three of them with matching blonde highlights and sneering expressions; leering at me as I approach my seat. A seating plan has become my jailor, this room my prison and my tormentors await, a whole fifty minutes is going to play out before I can breathe properly again. It starts with a sly kick of my seat as I try to sit down, stealing my notebook so I'm behind everyone else with the work task, refusal to share the exercise book so I can't see the pages and struggle with the questions, jokes at my expense, then the jabs in the ribs, flicking my hair..."You're a dog. You look like a dog. Do you have a boyfriend?...I'm really not surprised, who would want to go out with you. Do you even bother wearing a bra? there's no point. Do you have any scissors? Trim the dogs hair"...pinch, prod, comment. Laugh, sneer, threaten. Over and Over.
I never said a single word. Not to anybody.

I look at my nieces, two of them are that age now, and I see how they look at me, the woman I've become and the ideal they know...they have no idea. They don't realise there was ever a time Sian felt like a tiny pathetic bug, or how much effort it took for me to force myself to even pull myself out of crippling shyness and just talk to people. I see their confident stances and bright beautiful faces and I teach them, as an Aunty should, to never ever put up with other peoples crap. To always stand up for themselves and their beliefs. I tell them to never forget their own worth, or let others stamp down on their confidence.
I'm such a hypocrite.

At this moment in time I feel about as big and useful as a blunt nail. Pushed against a hard wall with thud, thud, thud as the hammer comes down and going nowhere. In my entire adult life I haven't felt like this, I actually thought this feeling was something one simply grew out of, but it turns out bullies down grow out of it, and so here I am...Eleven years old again, wishing I didn't have to go out of my front door in the morning because I know what's coming and it's breaking me down, shard by shard chipped away like ice from a car windscreen.

I wanted to be here so badly, I was desperate for any position, so when the only opportunity became available I took it gratefully. Seems I walked right into a version of hell. I had no idea so far along I would be so trodden on and bashed around like this.

Crying alone is one thing, but breaking down in front of the one person you can't stand to show weakness to is quite a different matter. I just couldn't hold it in anymore, and it seems since that day the dam has broken down and the waterworks wont turn off. The thing is I don't want to just walk away, despite how awful it is, this situation is getting worse every week, but I wanted the independence so much! I enjoy the freedom of money. I love having food in the fridge and lots of it too! But feeling eleven again. God I promised myself I would never let myself sink to that level again. I built up my confidence over years, I thought I'd turned into a different person but it turns out I just hid the frightened little bug I was into a dark corner, hidden behind red dyed hair and late developed breasts! The other person is still there, and my make-believe shell is cracking and I wonder how many people are going to see how weak I actually am. I look at some of my photos and think that's not me, because right now that character feels like a lie, a work of fiction. Because the red hair, the makeup, the bubbly personality-it's all a costume, a farce, to make people believe I am a confident, strong person when really I just feel like a bug again. And I don't know how to deal with this. I just don't know.

Tuesday, 1 September 2015

1st September

Today is the 1st of September. As tradition dictates, September is a good month for me. Apart from being my favourite month, it's always proved itself as a time for change. The circle has come full turn, summer is passing, winter is crawling in. Life usually takes a turn too right about now, whether by social structure or personal force. This time it may be's hoping I can roll with the wheel.

This is my month. I will force a change.

The wheel is turning,
the harvest nearly ready,
soon the nights will darken
and the cold will set in.

A time for freshly sharpened pencils
and cinder toffee in the air
a new beginning is dawning
and what's broken can be repaired.

Wednesday, 12 August 2015

Escape to the country

I've always known I don't belong here. I was born here and that wasn't my fault or my choice. One could say 'The Grass is always Greener on the Other Side' but I know in the very core of my soul that I won't ever be truly happy living here.

The counter argument has always been...There are things that hold me stationary. I have family and friends, connections that tie me to this place. I've always thought it would be too much of a sacrifice to leave them behind in search of greener pastures. Recently I've come to realise I've outgrown a lot of my old thoughts, a lot of my old connections. I've started to wonder what it is I am staying for?
I've said countless times, "I'll live in the country when I'm older"..."When I retire"..."One day"
alongside "I'll start my own business when I'm older"..."When I'm settled"..."One day"
One day seems a very long way away, it also feels like it's tinged with 'too late'.

Why am I constantly telling myself, "One day" instead of "Today" !?

There are places I want to be, things I want to do and I'm putting them off everyday but never stop thinking about them. When I walk to and from work, whenever I go around the supermarket, hop onto a bus....I think about these things in great detail. Wishing.

I've come to see that there is only one person I give a damn about spending my time with 100%. Luckily enough, he seems to be of the same mind as me. I know I've been quite ridged in my opinions of moving away and everything that entails, but lately, I really think I've become open minded to the idea. The only thing that would hold us pair back would be the finance side of it.
That brings me to how realistic this debate in my mind is...
Moving to the countryside in England is rather out of our budget.
Moving to the countryside of say...South of well within our budget.
We'd need jobs of course...
Jones is smart, smarter than anyone else I know, I'm fairly certain wherever we went in the world he would be a success.
For me?...As I stated above, I want to run my own little business.
Why am I putting this off? I believe I could do it. I could be a success. A small success maybe, but comfortable. I know I could do it. I feel it in my bones that I have what it takes.
I put myself down far too often, I should have more faith and more nerve to take risks.
Neither of us speak another language...well how necessary is that when most of the world speaks English! We speak English great! We ARE English!

For the first time in my life I feel like I'm really honestly considering all this.
I have a window of opportunity over the next four decide where I want to be, and what kind of life I want to live. To be honest I've already decided. It's just a matter of how we pull this off.

Sunday, 9 August 2015

September Poem

 it's that time of year again.
Nearly September.
September is when everything gets better,
do you remember?
When the trees change,
and the wind cools down
the clocks wind back
but they don't take you with them.
There's always a chance
every September
with the smell of freshly sharpened pencils
we can write our way from this prison cell
by the time the amber lights lead you home
and on your lips is sweet apple, salted caramel
the taste of autumn is ripe with promise
things always change for us
so I'll keep you near
it's time for a change,
now it's our time of year.