Life can be shit sometimes can’t it? It’s been a while since I did a blog post of any sort. Quite frankly, because everything that has made me have any sort of reaction to things has been either so deep and personal I didn’t want to share it with the world, or has been so petty and meaningless I felt embarrassed to share.
Today, I learnt that the world of a good friend of mine has changed for good. In all honesty, it’s pretty much crashed down around her. Her family has lost a vital part. The core. She lost her Dad. And I feel helpless in what to say to her, other than that I’m here for her if she needs me.
I hate having to find words to say when someone has suffered a loss like that, because I know that no matter what words people say to you, even waking up on those first few days is hard. It stays with you forever. It is over 2 years since I lost Chris, and those wounds are still as fresh as the day he died.
Times like this just make me so grateful for the people I have around me. The ones I can call on for tea, for beer, for a laugh and a joke. The people I cry to, the ones I can go to when I just need a hug, for no reason. The people who can make me smile with a simple text, or just when I hear their voice. They can be the ones I see everyday, or every week. Or they can be the ones that it is almost a military operation trying to get us in the same place at the same time. It doesn’t matter. True friendship is about being able to see someone and pick up where you left off. Not needing to see them every day, week, month or even year.
They’re the ones that you text or email when things are shit. Not because you need a response, just because you know they care, you know they’d want to know. The ones who you can talk at rather than to, knowing that they’ll listen and more so than that, knowing they would do exactly the same to you.
Sometimes it takes an apology from someone before you realise how much they mean to you. Sometimes it takes losing them from your life (whether temporarily or permanently). Sometimes it’s just when you realise that you have seen something that only they 2 of you would find funny. When you have ‘saw this and thought of you’ moments.
But mostly, having good friends means not being afraid to admit to them that you’re scared, or upset. It means being able to tell them you feel lonely without them feeling guilty that they haven’t done enough.
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smack in the guts.
Sometimes life has a way of smacking you in the guts when you least expect it. In really small and unusual ways.
This morning, I logged onto Facebook, and as usual on the right hand side of the page is that annoying bit where Facebook suggests people you might know, and people you should reconnect with. Today it suggested to me to add Chris Bowler as a friend, cause we had 2 mutual friends. Is there a way you can say ‘fuck you Facebook’? How come it is only now, 17 months after he’s died, that Facebook suggests we become friends?! What’s weird, is I can’t bring myself to press the little X in the corner, to get rid of the suggestion. But I also can’t click ‘add as a friend’, because I know there is no point.
I’m also getting very frustrated with myself, and my body. And more so my lack of control over my body. More and more people are noticing that my hand has tremors. Which has occasionally led to things getting worse. I just don’t understand why people have to keep asking me if I’m ok. Once maybe, I would probably do the same thing. But over and over again? If I’m sat having a drink, having a laugh, then surely from that you can deduce that I am fine? If I accidently hurt myself because of the shaking, or it gets worse, then fine, as me if I’m ok again. I just wish people would accept things that aren’t normal to them. If I’m not ok and I need help, then I’m not scared to tell you. To tell anyone.
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A letter to a fallen friend…
Little did we know that morning, that God was going to call your name. In life we loved you dearly, in death we do the same. It broke our hearts to lose you, you did not go alone; for part of us went with you the day God called you home. You left us peaceful memories, your love is still our guide, and though we cannot see you, you are always by our side. Our family chain is broken and nothing seems the same, but as God calls us one by one, the chain will link again.
Forever and always, you’ll be in my heart. Christopher Paul James Bowler. I wish you were here, to listen to me moan. I wish you were here to hold my hand, and hold me close. I wish you were here to make me smile and make me laugh. I wish you were here, to just experience life with me.
You’ve given me strength, you’ve given me hope, you’ve taught me how to love. You’ve left a huge hole in my life, and in my heart.
Do not stand at my grave and weep; I am not there, I do not sleep.
Forever those words will stay in my mind, so hard to say, so hard to hear. Difficult to accept. To see your grave and not cry is hard. To think of you being somewhere better is much easier. I know you’re up there someone, looking down on me. You live on, through everyone you knew.
I’ll see you in my dreams. And I’ll hold you in my dreams. Someone took you right out of my arms. Still I feel the thrill of your charms.
Lips that once were mine. Tender eyes that shine. They will light my way tonight. I’ll see you in my dreams
Oh, someone took you right out of my arms. Still I feel the thrill of your charms
Lips that once were mine. Tender eyes that shine. They will light my way tonight.I’ll see you in my dreams
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I’ve often wondered what you can learn about someone from the things that they own and the way that they live.
I love looking through fridges, cupboards, bookshelves etc. I don’t know what I expect to find, or what I learn from it. I just find it fascinating.
As I look over at my shelves, I wonder what people would make of me. There are the books on art/design. There are the recipe/cookery books. There are the pyschological/real life books. There are the chick-lit “happily ever after” books, and there are the Harry Potter Books.
There are the DVDs that range from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, to Moulin Rouge with Ugly Betty and Harry Potter in between. There’s the alcohol, and the glasses. The pictures of friends. The empty frames where friends used to be.
The shelves are framed with pink fluffly lights. They’re organised, but not obsessively tidy.
I have the pictures of me and my family. I have the feathers from South Africa. The little things that make me smile in life.
When you enter my flat, there is no doubting I like shoes. They are everywhere. Something that used to drive my parents crazy. Why could I never just put them away in one place? Now I have them by the door, in front of the sofa, under the table, in the wardrobe, in front of the heater. Basically wherever I take them off, they stay. I like things tidy, but not obsessively so.
In my fridge there is beer, butter, cheese, spinach, soya milk, fromage frais, chorizo sausage, various condiments. Nothing too exciting, or too psychologically revealing. But, if I was looking in on someone else’s fridge, those contents would be fascinating to me. As would the fact I have tea, coffee, hot chocolate powder and green tea on my shelf.
I have a normal, non HD TV. Simply because I got given it by my parents, and I haven’t bought a new one. I have Freeview and a simple DVD player. The idea that this says something about me, is intriguing to me. I don’t know what it says, or why it has to say anything. But I’m pretty sure it does. In the same way that the fact I am a Mac and not a PC is bound to say something about me. The fact I have my trusty old iMac still packed up in it’s box, and my MacBook out and around the flat all the time. The fact I own an iPhone, and that it is in a pink case.
All this stuff seems so relatively normal and mundane, but it is what fascinates me. The “normality” of everyday life, of everyday people. The little things that make a big difference. Why would I have cheese and fromage frais, but then soya milk? Why would I have an old TV, because I don’t want to spend the money, but see no problem in buying my computer?
Everyday life fascinates me. What people eat. How they live. What they read. What they watch. I could people-watch for ages. Seeing how fast they walk, where they are going, who they talk to. It’s amazing. I’m sure that everyone likes to look at the bookshelves in someone’s house. It’s natural curiosity. But what does it make you think about that person? Can their books, DVDs, TV, what they eat/drink, change your opinion of someone? Or does it just subtlety mould the opinion you already have?
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Time to make my resolutions…
I have decided on a few new resolutions for myself. Things I need to do…
-I’m going to tell the people who mean something to me, what they mean to me. After all, I am who I am because of them.
-I’m going to carry on seeing Lis on a Wednesday. Talking is hard, counselling is emotional. But, it’s so helpful it’s unbelievable.
-I’m going to make myself a plan, of where I want to be in life. I’m not going to share it with anyone, that way no-one knows if I’ve failed or not.
-I’m going to make sure my family know how much they mean to me. Yes, they drive me crazy, but I love them.
-I’m going to stop thinking about being alone. I’m going to embrace being alone, that way if I do find someone it’ll be a nice surprise, if I don’t, I’m still happy.
-I’m going to take good care of myself. Eat well, drink less, sleep properly and exercise more.
-I’m going to embrace the fact that some people in life completely dislike me. Because, lets face it, there are people in this life that I completely dislike.
-I’m going to work as hard as I can, to further my career. It may not be directly related to my degree, but I love it.
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Severing Ties
The older I get, the more New Years I see, the more I realise that being popular isn’t all that great. Being able to wake up and know you have true friends in you life, now that is great.
Today, I have severed ties with someone who used to be a friend of mine. In fact, used to be one of the most important people in my life. I am going to make a conscious effort to forget his phone number. I have got rid of all the photos of us in physical existence in my flat. (yes, most of them still exist in digital form, but I can’t delete 3 years of my life). Before New Year, it upset me that this is something that might happen. This person, afterall used to be very important to me. But now I’ve managed to have a serious thought about it, and do I really want to hold out hope that he will be allowed to talk to me? In all honesty, no.
New Years Eve showed me that I have made some amazing friends at work. Friends who, I like to think, will be friends for a long time to come. I feel very lucky to go to work and have friends there, not just people I get on with.
The older I get, the bitchier things can get. The more shit happens in your life, the more you realise who you can rely on.
In other news, if anyone likes wine, and wants a bottle of Cloudy Bay, Sauvignon Blanc, 2007 Vintage, let me know. It belongs to someone I used to know, and because of the emotional crap it’s come to signify, I can’t bring myself to drink it.
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Christmas. A religious celebration of the birth of Christ. Personally, the religious aspect isn’t a huge part of my Christmas, mostly down to my lack of/unsure level of religious beliefs. The rest of my family do celebrate Christmas in a hugely religious way (one of my brothers works as an organist in the parish church in the town, would be hard for him not to be religious around Christmas!). They go to church Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Not for me, and that is something they respect.
Christmas is, however, a real time for friends and family. Presents do play a huge part in Christmas. But for me, it isn’t the price or size of the presents, or even the fact that they exist. Each situation is different, of course.
I have bought a total of 7 presents (for 8 people). Mum & Dad, David (brother), Thomas (other brother), Chris, Meesh (99p challenge at work), Izzy (my friends Amy and Olly’s little girl) and Shell and Paul (Chris’s parents).
And nothing makes me happier than hearing that one of my presents has made someone happy. My present to Chris’s parents arrived yesterday, and I had a lovely message from them to say thank you. It was only a box of chocolates (posh ones, admittedly) it didn’t cost a huge amount, but it was enough to show that I was thinking of them.
It’s a time to remember, a time to be thankful. For me, it’s a time to make that extra bit of effort to see the people you care about. It’s the only time of year that my family get more than 5 minutes all in the same room. I hate to imagine how it would be if we had a bigger family! 5 people, and one day (maybe even 2 or 3 this year!) that we can get together. Imagine if there were more of us!
Christmas is what makes winter bearable. I hate winter, the cold, the wet, the dark. But Christmas makes me feel all warm and cosy inside.
Everyone from work gets together for the Christmas/Holiday do. Everyone from Kidderminster gets together for the Christmas Eve drinks. Family get together for the Christmas dinner. That is the best present for me. I’d rather see people, have a drink/coffee/cuppa/chat, than send a well-meaning, but warmth-less Christmas card.
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Guilty Pleasures…
Everyone has a guilty pleasure in life. Something they should never admit to. Something that should never become public knowledge to the friends who think they have reasonable taste in life.
But mine will soon be out in the open.
That’s right. Robbie Williams.
Thursday, at the Apple Store in Regent Street, I will see Robbie Williams do an iTunes live event.
I’ve booked my train tickets. A night in a hostel. And swapped a shift, all so it can happen.
I was at the perfect age for Take That. (although I didn’t cry when they broke up).
I love Robbie. I saw him at Live 8, and he was fabulous. I have been waiting to see him live again ever since.
Yes, he’s not the most amazing singer/dancer. But he admits that. He can, however, really entertain a crowd.
To see him in such a small and intimate place. AMAZING.
I can’t wait. Yes. I’m excited like a small child.
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‘wonderful’ people
Apparently, this is also a place I need to tell people they are ‘wonderful’. But, those people do not include James Muir. For the simple reason he asked me to write that he is!!
Lots of people I do work with, however, are wonderful. And are most definitely friends and not just colleagues!
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There are so many people in this world who suffer from a mental illness, and yet they are often too ashamed to admit this. People are never sure how to react to someone with a mental illness. Regardless of what it is. If someone comes back into work after some time off, and the response to the question ‘what were you off with?’ is ‘I broke my leg/broke my arm/had a chest infection/had an operation etc. etc.’ then you know how to react. If you have some time off work, and the response to the question ‘what were you off with?’ is ‘acute anxiety’, the reaction is often somewhat different. Because of the fear of reaction, many people simply don’t admit to it. I know I didn’t, not to everyone.
There is still a stigma attached to having a mental illness. Which is, to me, stupid. Everyone in their life has bad days, everyone has days where they sit and wonder who they are, everyone has those little things that irritate them. Mental illness is simply where those things take over your life. (obviously it depends exactly on the condition etc.).
People are often afraid to ask. No-one wants to be that person, the one who brings up the ‘mental illness’.
There is still a stigma attached to taking anti-depressants. There is a huge stigma attached to people who self-harm. There is a huge misunderstanding of those people who have OCD.
Alcoholics and drug addicts seem more socially accepted than a person who chooses to use self-harm to cope. Or a person who admits themself into hospital instead of taking an overdose.
The lack of understanding for mental illness is something that really annoys me. I want everyone to be seen in the same way. I want people to understand that actually, a mental illness can be more debilitating, simply for the reason it cannot be seen. Someone with OCD/Manic depression/anxiety etc. can (and will!) look the same as someone without that condition. We all know more people than we realise with a mental illness. Or someone who has had a mental illness. We probably all know someone who’s had therapy. We probably all know someone who has self-harmed. We probably all know someone who has been on anti-depressants in their life. What would probably surprise us, is how many people fall into those categories. Simply because it is not a talked about thing.
Some people are open and honest about it, you just need to ask.
A mental illness doesn’t make you a freak. It makes you a person. It doesn’t make you crazy. It simply means you have an illness of your mind. Just because it can’t be seen, doesn’t mean it isn’t real.
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- Life really can be shit sometimes, can’t it?
- smack in the guts.
- A letter to a fallen friend…
- The little things that make me wonder…
- Time to make my resolutions…
- Severing Ties
- Presents, and the meaning of Christmas.
- Guilty Pleasures…
- ‘wonderful’ people
- Mental illness, why is it such a stigma?
- End of a year, end of a decade.
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