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.

Nearest Exit. Poem

"Where's the nearest exit?"
I need to find my way out
no matter what room I enter
always the wrong one it seems
But you just can't live on a pocket full of hope
and a handful of childhood dreams

Think fast.

I've made some wrong decisions, and I'll likely regret those decisions for a long time going. I've also had to make decisions I wasn't happy about because I had no other choice. Again I can't help feeling tormented by all this, because I am not supposed to be here. This is not the right place for me. My private life is so blissfully wonderful, I think perhaps it warrants why professionally, academically, I'm not happy. You can't have everything. 
I don't want everything, I just want to be content in all aspects of my life. I've got to fix this. I've got to think fast and find an escape route. Think fast and act faster. 

Tuesday, 4 August 2015

I'm done.

I'm stood with bare feet, and all around for as far as I can see is broken glass and bits of barbed wire. Held above my head is a stilt like contraption, with my shoulders being the main foundation holding up a great weight. I cannot see what weighs me down but it is heavy and the burden grows as regularly something else is dropped onto the already teetering pile. If I move I sacrifice my feet, if I stay then I risk being crushed by the inevitable fall, or dying under the strain. I can feel the burden rocking, I haven't long to make up my mind. A person could run themselves mad thinking this over....

...I got upset today. I'm rather ashamed of myself for succumbing to my emotions but I guess everyone has breaking points and perhaps I'm just the sensitive sort who cracks more easily than others. I think on some psychological level I'm so focused on keeping it together when inside is turmoil that the cracks are actually deeper than I'd like to admit. It doesn't take much battering to smash me apart as the cracks have already weakened what's there. I've said it so many times, that I just don't belong here, it doesn't feel right. I can ignore those thoughts most of the time. At this moment in time however, a chisel has chipped away too many little bits of my resolve. My confidence has slowly but surely been draining away and I can see myself stumbling after it, clawing at what's left but it's like trying to catch smoke. I wish I was a strong enough person that this would never, could never have happened. But the truth is I'm not. One thing after another has chipped away at me, one burden on top of another has been thrown into my hands and I'm like a clown juggling too many balls, when I drop one I get ridiculed and battered down again. I'm battered down even if I don't drop one.

I never handled bullies well at school.

It's been so long I'd almost managed to forget but now as sudden as a rain storm I'm back there, twelve years old, miserable, isolated and mentally beaten down every day. I used to just put up with it, worse I used to believe most of it, occasionally reassuring myself with the promise that eventually I wouldn't have to put up with arseholes like that again. I should have known that arseholes walk next to us throughout life, not all of them grow out of it. Some people are simply programmed to be vicious, spiteful cunts. They victimize others to make themselves feel big.
I am not twelve years old anymore. I am not hideous and I am not stupid.
I shouldn't have to put up with this.

It's not just that, it's also the lack of structure. I need structure in my life, it's how I focus. I can't cope with these unreasonable conditions. These random demands. No set protocol, no real procedures. And then the vultures picking away at the carcass of my confidence.

I'm stood at the school gates, I've weighed up the odds. Fight or Flight. Could I come out on top if I stand up to confrontation? I know already the answer is no. I've watched others take up a fighting stance only to be torn to pieces. You tend to find even now, that Arseholes close ranks.
I shouldn't have gotten upset today, even though it was in private. I shouldn't have let myself hit this point. Now I'm furious with myself, angry that I've let people put me down, and that my inner twelve year old has listened and believed it. I promised myself I'd stop being that girl.
So now I'm done. It's time to get moving. It would take a momentous alteration to make me change my mind now. I'm just done.

Sunday, 2 August 2015

45510 words in

Writing my current book:

Not even half way yet, I've had to accept that the deadline I set for myself is not going to be met. I actually don't see this book getting finished this side of Christmas. Times like this I think I'd rather be poor and out of work so that I had the time I'd like to dedicate to my writing, but then I remind myself how much I love having food in the fridge. I could never go backwards. I love having money. Being hungry is the biggest incentive. Even so, I miss the student years, simply for the time.

My mind has suddenly reverted back to its old way of thinking, that didn't take long. I was fine for a handful of months, sort of cruising along the time slipping beneath me without me noticing. Now I've hit that old feeling of helplessness. I don't belong here, this is not who I am. I am so passionate about this book. I feel that it has great potential. I hope I'm not the only one who thinks that when the time comes to share it. These books are my escape plan. Please let it work.