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A misty night in October…

I wrote the following Friday night. It’s just taken a few days for me to edit and post. I really need to stop worrying and just post them raw…

I’m hoping to post a little more this week, I have a week off work (finally) and my counselling sessions have started back up again. Anyway, here’s the piece I wrote Friday:

How do I describe a feeling so specific, so endemic to me, that it would reach your ears and make complete sense?
That’s the trouble I’m having tonight.

The feeling that’s plauging me, after such an upbeat and smiley day, is specific to one night last october. 

The location is different but the smell, the sound, the literal feeling in the air? They’re all the same.

A light coastal mist that adds a sense of romantic mystery, should the context allow.

The sound of the waves beating the shoreline in a natural, sporadic, melody that creates the perfect backdrop. 

The smell of a salted sea breeze that lightly fragrances the air you breathe, like the last lingering perfume on your pillow the day after she left.

The stars shining up high, almost bright enough to light your path and yet so beautiful to gaze up at, that you hardly look down anyway.

A slight bite to the cold Autumn air that keeps you from removing your coat but allows you to stay just warm enough – so you rest on the edge of comfortability. 

These things, this nostalgic vortex of emotional occurrences, combine to bring tears to my eyes. And a familiar pain into my heart once more

I stand here reliving that night as if it was just last week.

Her holding my hand the heat and nervous energy emanating between us.

The warmth of her shuddering breath on my chest as we cuddle. 

The fragrant taste of her lips as we kiss, passionately, under the artificial glow of the street lighting, to the sound of the onrushing tide.

Magical. That’s what it felt like at the time. Now? Now, it’s just a series of torturous memories I hope I never lose.

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A rope, pulling me back in…

I have had a rough time trying to deal with things the wrong way around; focusing on my feelings for (E) and how I’m coping etc.

Well, I made a serious attempt this week to try and focus on my confidence. It was an utter failure, to begin with. I tried to talk to people more. And whilst I felt no stronger, or better in myself, I felt like the fear of talking to people got lost a little under the weight of self-expectation. I felt like I had to talk to people, that I had to say hello or smile.

I know it’s not the healthiest way to deal with it but without knowing a better way it’s something I just have to try and get through. At least until it starts to actually feel better.

It seems that no matter how well I think I’m doing, there is something out there that simply pulls me back in. Like I’m teathered and the memories are pulling me back if I get too far away from them…

It’s not something I’m forcing myself to do either, I’m making a genuine effort to try and focus on my confidence and speak to people.

The problem here is that negative comments hold far more weight than a positive one. Not to mention my constant over thinking. It’s quite a horrid thing for my brain to be doing. Those of you having suffered (or still suffering) from this will understand the trouble with ‘just turning your brain off’.

Anyway, back to my main point:

Yesterday I went out to the local high street to pick up some fresh fruit from the grocers (how very adult of me) and on the way, I chose to take a road I never usually go down. Nothing odd about that, I just wanted a change of scenery for a, um… change.

Well, as I was walking down this ‘new’ road I was taking in all the flowers, trees, birds, and anything else I could see. It was nice, filling my senses with everything I could to just take my mind off of things.

I was doing ok, even got a couple nice pictures on my new phone – it has a really cool focus function that works wonders when taking pictures of flowers, as you can see on this post – until I saw a car. 

This car looked just like the one (E) used to drive. Now, I managed to block the thoughts that came with that, it’s been a long enough time for me to cope with one input of intense emotion. However, what really hit me, was the cat that ran across my path, stopped to look at me and then jumped on the bonnet of the same car I just mentioned. 

It then sat there and stared at me. This cat was black and white and was a spitting image of one of (E)’s cats. That image, of the cat, just staring at me as I walked up to, and past, the car, it was a key turning in the locked door that hid those emotions away. It seems like every time I manage to lock them away or push them to the side – in an attempt to try and build some resolve – something occurs for them to resurface and just cover me, like the comfort of a warm blanket. Only this one is wet so the comfort only lasts so long before turning bad.

I wanted to try and build some resolve because trying to deal with these emotions, and the memories they bring with them is not working. At. All.

And yet, when I try to focus on something else, there’s always something – whether it’s a thought, a moment like that above, or something else entirely – that is there to drag me back into the pool of emotion I keep trying so hard to climb out of.

This turbulence is undesirable and even though these emotions are not unknown, they have no place in my heart or head all the while there’s nowhere for them to be directed.

And if that is not bad enough:

Being like this, having all these emotions bouncing around my head, stinging at my heart, makes it harder for me to focus – for any length of time – on my writing. Whether it’s my short stories or my blog work (like this post), I cannot seem to focus enough.

I got this post done but, reading it over, it’s so disjointed and full of jumpy erratic points. I hate feeling like this and just wish I could focus. Every now and then I hit a patch of clarity (like some of my recent poetry) but more often than not I flounder when I try to write and it takes days, instead of hours, to write a post like this…

I’ve never been so lonely…

“You know I’ve never been so lonely on my own, and it shows, cause i don’t see you like I used too”

I know this song is meant to be a happy song. It’s meant to be about the complete opposite of the reasons I find it upsetting. But as with most of her songs their sad yet oddly beautiful. 

I should stop listening to it but the fact is my brother listens to it all the time. Which makes it difficult to avoid. I tend to only really get upset at the bit I’ve quoted above.

I just wish it would stop aiding the tears that insist on leaving my eyes.

Conflicted Priorities…

I said something to myself yesterday; something that, at the time, made complete sense…
I’m always focusing on trying to feel differently, to move past my feelings for (E). When the reality is by focusing on my feelings for bee, all I seem to be doing is fuelling them.

Like quick sand, the more I struggle the more my heart pulls me down.
So, I’ve decided to try and come at things from a different angle.

I’ve decided that maybe I should focus on my confidence, my self esteem, and my general mental well-being.
I want to get better, be happier, more confident, and i really want to be able to talk to people whilst not freaking out because of my anxiety.

So, in a moment of clarity induced by my writing at the weekend no doubt, I’ve decided to try and not focus so much on getting past what I still feel for (E) – which is a substantial amount more than I probably should considering – and focus more on trying to find ways to curb my anxiety and build some self-esteem. 

Now, I know it won’t be easy, it’s been really hard not to focus on my feelings (they’re still pretty overwhelming) and I certainly failed at doing so last night on my walk – all I could think about was her. Still.

The truth is I know my feelings for her are still there and although i thought i was pushing those feelings away, I was actually just holding on to them tighter.

In my hearts defence she is one of the most amazing people I’ve ever known and even after all of this I still care a great deal for her. She has made me feel things i never thought I would ever feel.

    Anyway, my plan is to try and not focus too much on my feelings for (E) and try to focus more towards ways of helping me get some self-esteem and feel happier in myself. 

    My overall goal is kto get to a point where I can deal with these feelings better. 
    It’s not the best plan, because I have no idea how I’m going to implement it. Not a clue. 

    I just know I have to change something!

    As i drift among the stars…

    I wrote the following poem over the course of a couple of  (recent) nights.

    The original words were written Friday. I then ‘improved’ on the meaning of each part Saturday night. I worry that any more ‘tinkering’ may ruin the piece, as I’ve said before I am a bit of a perfectionist, an automatic overthinker, and everything I write is fine at the time, but then I look at it a little later and want to change a word or two here and there. Before I know it I’ve ruined something that was fine as it was…

    So, to that end, I’ve tried to leave this a little rawer than I’d usually like. But I hope the sense of what I was thinking and feeling come across. I have to state that whilst I let all of these feelings and emotions out on these two particular nights, the feelings and emotions these words are meant to represent are what I feel all the time.

    I feel these things whenever I walk home from work, or go into town, or simply sit there and do nothing. My last post “Wasps Stinging at my heart…” will probably provide the context for this poem should it not be too clear to some…


    As I Drift Among The Stars

    As I walk through the crowd,

    Reminders buffer my resolve.

    The hint of her smile,

    On another woman’s face.

    The shine of her light brown hair,

    Floating in the breeze.

    The faintest scent of her,

    Dancing through the masses.

    A gentle sound that echoes,

    The very last memories of her voice.

    My head is aware of her absence,

    But my heart rejects the thought.

    It still longs for the texture of her skin,

    The gentle but firm grip of her embrace,

    The caress of her fingernails 

    On the soft skin of my arms,

    The cool summer breeze 

    That is her breath on my neck.

    To close my eyes and not see her,

    That beaming, thawing smile,

    Is to me,

    An impossible scenario.

    Other suitors pass me by,

    They’re lovely, of this, I’m sure,

    But not one of them captures me,

    Holding me close,

    Like a captive in my very own mind.

    A million little memories of her,

    Are still a million reminders of her.

    Each one no larger than a grain of sand,

    Slipping through the fingers of my soul,

    But piled high these grains,

    Allow me passage to her,

    As I drift among the stars.

    Wasps, stinging at my heart…

    I was trying to help someone else out recently. They are having a hard time and, in trying to help them understand they were not alone, I opened myself up and let some thoughts and memories resurface. These memories – and the feelings they carry – are what I’ve been trying to get past. Granted I’ve not found a way past them yet, they’re intense and the fact is I simply do not know how to deal with the emptiness I end up feeling.


    I don’t mean to sound dramatic, but the truth is I still think about things way too much, trying to stop that only ends in frustration and me getting upset. I still go out every night between 8.30pm – 9pm, although it’s more of a ‘guideline’ time for myself – I simply aim to go out around 8.30pm-8.45pm and stay out until around 9pm(ish) although some nights I stay out much longer (tonight it was around 9.15pm).

    I’ve been spending more and more time out at night, simply because I feel as though the time to myself is somewhat healthy. I feel a lot of things, a lot of the time and it pretty much sucks that there’s no volume control. So, to have a little time away and out in the world is a pretty nice thing to have.


    Anyway, back to the aftermath of trying to help someone else…

    I tried to help the person feel better, a relatively new friend, and in doing so I feel as though I’ve ripped off the plaster to some slow-healing wound. I was simply sharing my feelings on a similar situation, how it feels for me still; before I realised what I was sharing, it was too late to stop it. It was like unlocking the door that leads to the room in my heart where she resides. And everything came pouring out.

    And it hurt. But in such a beautiful way. 

    That sounds like such a stupid thing to say. I know it does because I think it does.

    The memories are fond, and to be honest quite beautiful. But the wound is still very fresh and thinking about them, about her, it hurts knowing she’s not here. That these memories are nothing more than exactly that. It’s beautiful but incredibly sad. 

    Ripping the door off that box has allowed the blood to pour out. Taking the form of my emotions, this blood is bringing to the surface, all that I’ve long tried to set aside. About a person I’ve tried not to think too much about – in doing so I’ve been avoiding the constant pain felt when realising how very much in love with her I still am.
    My word this is hard to write.

    I don’t know how this gets better or easier to live with. But I am hoping I get somewhere, eventually, where I can at least feel happy in myself again. I want to prove to myself I can. But I wish she was here none-the-less.

    In the meantime, I sit here on these (now-cool) autumn nights, with the sound of the waves trying to drown out the buzzing in my head. 

    This bench I sit on is halfway along the beautiful walk by my local beach. Where I sit is, almost, dead centre; the path opens up into a criss-cross and there sits a bench, overlooking the whole bay from a fantastic viewpoint. 

    There’s light from the road, enough to write, read (just), and yet it’s dark enough to see the stars above my head. I’ve even seen a few shooting stars in the past month or two…

    These thoughts plague me all day long, there are little reminders of her everywhere I go. These little moments allow the feelings to bubble up and expose the inner truth within – that she’s still on my mind and in my heart.
    These thoughts bounce around my mind like wasps; stinging wildly at my heart every time I take notice of their existence.

    And even though the thoughts hurt like hell, I can’t quite bring myself to hate them.


    I have a piece of poetry I’ve been working on, it’s something I wrote recently and I’m being a perfectionist over it. I think I won’t like it regardless of how many more tweaks I make but I shall share it either tomorrow or the day after. Hopefully, it’s as good as I hope.

    Waves, fighting amongst themselves…

    I know it’s been a while since I’ve written on here but I’ve been struggling this past week or so to write how I feel without getting too emotional. I’ve been able to get myself, emotionally, somewhere half decent. So here is a post I’ve had waiting for a final edit…

    As the waves fight amongst themselves, those trying to reach the shore pushing past those retreating back to the safety of the open sea, i stand here and gaze upon them.

    I’m a sensitive person who feels deeply in every aspect of my life. Whether it’s a positive or negative emotion – they all feel incredibly overwhelming.

    I wonder a million things all at once. Almost all of them worry me.
    A thousand different ways scenario 1 could turn out.
    A hundred different ways person X could respond.
    What happens if A, B, or C, doesn’t occur or happen?

    All these things are foolish and silly. All these things may never happen. And yet all have the possibility to do so at the same time. I’ve always tried to be logical and think things through. I’ve always tried to see the best in people. If someone does something mean or nasty, is there a plausible reason that explains such behaviour that shows they’re nice?

    However i have significant trouble treating myself the same way. If i do/say something i worry my actions/words will lead to my friend(s) abandoning me. I don’t know when or how this started but it’s a real worry. The problem is, no matter how much someone says otherwise, i will always think I’ve done something horrible or rude or nasty. Even though i would never dream of or actually do anything of the sort.

    She consumes me, completely…

    The following piece is the emotional piece I mentioned in my previous post.

    I am incredibly nervous about putting something like this up, as it’s both deeply personal and also something I’m proud of.

    I’ve rewritten it a couple of times to turn it into a more flowing piece. However, I am a perfectionist and still feel I could improve it.

    After a few days of tweaking, i am happy enough to share it with anyone who reads this blog. It is a piece about how I felt one-night last week. I opened myself up and just went with where my feelings and thoughts took me.

    I find it makes for a rather emotional piece and, honestly, I really think it’s one of the best things I’ve ever written (although I’m biased)…


    I stand here upon the bluff, gazing out into the darkness of the night sky.

    As I stare off into the distance my gaze is drawn towards the cacophony of flickering red lights, noting the position of the wind turbines spinning their steel hands through the air.

    They’re a stark contrast to the flickering silver orbs of burning gas, light years above my head.

    I look up at those very silver orbs and close my eyes, just for a moment, it’s right then that the sounds hit me. All at once.

    The roaring melody of the encroaching English Channel, waves crashing and clawing their way up the silicon-grained plateau beneath my feet. There’s a faint scent of warm seaweed in the air.

    A bike in the background, the mechanical whirr of its gears fills the air, like a hundred June bugs taking off all at once.

    As I instinctively turn my head towards the now passing bicycle, I hear a low rumble, the wind picks up and whistles through the drying summer reeds that now grow on the mounds beside me.

    As the rumble moves closer, the wind slows and I realise it was a motor vehicle, a car or van I’m not sure.

    As the low rumble continues towards where I stand, it begins to overtake the sound of the bicycles whirr. The fuel guzzling vehicle speeds past me, I see its darkened silhouette pass between the gaps in the hedges, not twenty metres from where I stand.

    The rumble of the vehicle’s engine passes along with the car and a few seconds later I can no longer hear it over the volume of the crashing waves.

    With the roar of each breaking wave, I feel slightly more at home in my own skin.

    It’s an odd sensation and difficult to explain but my breathing steadies and my mind calms. The spinning cogs, fuelled by my overthinking brain, are drowned out by the natural ferocity of the ocean as it takes back the land it lost just eight hours prior.

    Just as my mind is reaching the pinnacle of its calm stillness; a thunderous sound erupts. As if out of nowhere it barrels right into my calm mind, stirring up all the chaos I’d just about managed to quieten. At first, it felt like thunder, from a distance, but after a second or two, my mind rebounds and I realise it’s simply a plane passing by overhead.

    The sound of the jet-engine buffers me like the waves buffer the shore below. I open my eyes out of shock more than anything else and my heart rate spikes just a little. The sound’s immediate volume dies off as the plane passes by.

    The volume of the crashing waves once again begins to fill my mind, as if they are having their volume turned up slowly. I can barely see the foam-topped breakers as they crash down onto the sandy beach.

    It sounds chaotic but the dragging sound, caused by the water receding immediately after the waves break, helps steady my heart rate and calm my mind once more.

    So, I sit here, eyes closed. I allow the sounds of the waves to wash over me as if I were laying at their tidal line.

    I lose track of time and just enjoy this natural orchestra of oceanic sound.

    My eyes closed, my mind open, my soul at peace, it is just for a moment, but it seems like a lifetime.

    Like being woken from a deep sleep by a cup of cold water to the face, I hear a sobering sound. It cuts through me cleaner, deeper, than any knife known to mankind could…

    Her voice. The words echo in my mind like a bad joke “Hey there”.

    It’s like someone has put headphones on me and is slowly turning the sound up to eleven.

    Her voice shakes me to the core as it reverberates around the chasm of my mind.

    The tears start to flow as I turn to face the direction of her voice… As the tears navigate their way down my face, using the outline of my nose, her face becomes clear.

    Like she had emerged from the mists of my very soul.

    Right before my very eyes. She shows a coy, hesitant smile but her eyes betray her intent. She feels the way I do right now, only she is hiding it much better than I ever could. She takes a step towards me, and everything around me fades into the background.

    The roaring ocean no longer makes a sound, as if muted by remote, and the dark green of the grass under the night sky fades completely to black.

    Everything ceased to be, it was as if we were the only two people left in the world and we’d found one another.

    Every single step she takes towards me makes my bones shudder as if I was being shaken vigorously. Her voice still echoing throughout my mind.

    She’s right in front of me now. This beauty of an angel stands before me her auburn-brown hair flowing gently as if there is a gentle breeze that I cannot feel, her arms outstretched reaching for me and her coy eyes penetrating my very soul.

    I try to keep my grasp on reality strong but it is no good; Her eyes have me. I’m completely lost in them. I’m hers and I cannot fight it. I don’t want to fight it.

    It’s like she is a powerful gravity well, a purpose-built tool meant for one thing: to consume my heart. Her sheer presence in front of me cracks the hardened shell encasing my now weeping heart.

    She extends her hand further towards me and I find myself extending mine in response. I want this so much. As her fingertips glance my own, an explosion of emotion shreds through my arm like a ballistic force.

    She sees my reaction and grabs onto my hand to stop me from pulling back from the pain. The feeling becomes more intense, but I grasp her arm gently in reply, this moment is worth every single nerve being set ablaze.

    Without any visible queue, she moves in closer and locks my eyes to hers as she pushes her head into my chest.

    My arm instinctively moves to her waist, holding her tightly but gently. Please don’t go. As if she hears my very thoughts, she wraps her own arms around my waist and squeezes with great care.

    My chest moistens, she’s crying too; “I miss you, so much” she whispers to me. “I… miss you too…” I manage to choke the words through my own tears. We stand there, holding on to each other for dear life. If we don’t let go, we won’t lose each other.

    I raise my other hand and caress the back of her head, my fingertips running through her hair.

    She pushes her head into my chest so hard I almost step backwards for balance.

    As she pushes herself closer, as if she wants to never let go, the whole scene gives way to the loudest sound I’ve ever heard.

    So loud is the sound that my mind feels like it’s being electrocuted by all the electricity known to man. Shattering the moment, as if it were warm glass cooling too quickly.

    The bells of the nearby church continue to ring out in some overly loud collection of chimes.

    I’ve never heard it so loud before but as I try to hold onto the angel before me, I look down at where she stands. Stood. She stands there no more.

    Vanishing into thin air, her voice still whispering on the breeze that now buffers my open jumper. I look around in panic, she was real; I heard her, saw her, smelled her.

    But now she’s gone, again.

    My eyes realise this before I do and they release the flood of salt-rich water that had been building up there all this time.

    As the bells stop their disorientating bellowing, the sound of the ocean crashing onto the sandy shore beneath my feet fills my senses once again. I close my eyes, but all that does is aid the release of more tears.

    I use the cotton-soft sleeve of my jumper to dry my now damp cheeks. I take one last look at the spot upon which we stood together, not seconds before.

    I turn to walk away, my heart bleeding out with every step I take. Slashed open by whatever it was I just experienced. A vision? A memory? A dream?

    A departing blow that feels fatal, like the very end of me. I concede defeat and, as I take one last look back at the now empty spot, I smile.

    The same sad smile that now adorns my face like some sick trophy; on display for everyone to see.

    It fools them all of course.

    Everyone.

    Everyone but me.

    Writing From The Heart

    Glen Rosa Shortly Before The Spring Bloom…

    Another throw-back to my first university field trip. This image was taken at Glen Rosa. And sometimes stunning landscape of wildflowers and fresh-flowing water.

    Here it looks barren and dead. But not a month after this image it became one of the most beautiful sights I’ve never seen.

    I will always hope to go back and see this valley adorned in beautiful wild-flowers. One day.

    Tonight i wrote something from my heart for the first time in 8 months.
    It felt fantastic – but hurt at the same time. It was needed and it’s helped my anxiety, somewhat, by getting it down.
    It was hard, but i think that makes the writing better. Because it was personal.

    Anyway i hope you enjoy this image, it means so much to me.

    Being open in a closed world…

    These flowers are pretty. And i wish i could be more like them…

    During the night they’re closed off, protected from those that might cause them harm.

    However, with the rising of the sun – they open up to the world. They allow themselves to be shown off to all that would see them. In all their glorious beauty.

    All i want from life right now is a choice. A choice of when to close off from the world and a choice of when to allow myself to be open to those whom i care for.

    Instead i have this incredibly frustrating automatic response of shutting myself off. Keeping my heart from being hurt. Out of fear, pain, and all sorts of insecurities.

    I want to be a little more confident in myself. In my own mind.

    I want to go through life not worrying about how other people see me, or what they’re saying about me.

    I want to be able to just be me, and for that to be enough. I hate talking to a friend and then over thinking every single thing i say. Out of fear that I’ve upset them, or said something they dont like. I worry that they’ll not like me because I’ve said something and then they’ll leave. And I’ll lose that friend.

    No one is safe from this anxiety/overthinking cocktail. No one.

    I try to improve and work on myself and confidence but the truth is i don’t believe myself. I have so little faith in myself that everything i try and tell myself to stop any overthinking simply stops that one outbreak. When another starts up shortly after, what i said before doesn’t always work.

    It’s complicated, irrational, and probably silly to anyone who has been lucky never to suffer from this. But it’s ruining my day to day life.

    I can only hope that, as frustrating as failing to make any real progress is, that if i keep at it some day I’ll realise im all right.