Negative Thoughts

I am worthless.
I am very fat and very ugly.
I burden other people with my problems when they have their own things to deal with.
Sometimes I want to run away but I would be too afraid to be alone.
I get mad at this thought process because I am hate burdening people but I can’t be alone either.
I am too pushy and make people open up to me because I think by saving them I can save myself somehow.
I’m not sure what I am meant to be saving myself from.
I want to be somebody.
I am not intelligent. Knowing random stuff is not intelligence. I remember stupid things.
I don’t know how to study and even though I am afraid of failure I have started to accept and get used to it.
Reading back over mails I was upset to read mails from Rachel and Mary, the two people I wanted acceptance from but never got.
It really really hurts that John doesn’t see us as family.
I always feel like I am on the outside, People think I am in the centre of the circle but even if that was true…
I am still alone.
Alex is right, I am afraid to go look for what I want so I cling on to the people I admire and respect the most and don’t let them go and I get possessive and weird.
I can’t bare to be alone, not at all, not even for a minute. Even though when I am around people I can still think negative thoughts, when I am alone they eat me up.
I shouldn’t be sleeping in Ro’s room so much, even thought he doesn’t say anything it must drive him crazy because then he doesn’t get his own space and he is not my babysitter.
I cannot turn my filter off because while I am not afraid of being judged, I am afraid of saying things out loud because that’s what makes thoughts and feelings a reality.

I am not able to face reality.
I live in a little bubble where I put on a brave face, cry my heart out, feel desperately lonely and feel like I am standing in a room screaming my head off and no one even turns around to see me.
This isn’t a fair statement because I have friends who care about me but my self esteem is so low that I am always able to say that they are being nice to me for a reason. I will a make excuses for them. I will say, Oh its great they want to hang out with me but I guess they feel bad for me, Or maybe they have nothing else to do and they know that I will come running to hang out with them. I will think that they think I am a good listener and that they only want to talk to me and don’t care what I have to say. I love being around them all but worry that I annoy them with my stupidity and lack of education. They talk about music and movies, politics and people and I don’t know anything about any of those things.

I wonder where did it all go wrong? I am out of school nearly 7 years and I have nothing. No money. Not a cent saved. A scrap like. I have my rent money and nothing until I get paid on Friday. I have no motivation to get a new job unless it really interests me but I have to pass my course to get the qualification and I can’t seem to just knuckle down and so I stay in my job, which I do love. I love those girls more than anything  in the whole world. They think I am an odd ball and while that can be frustrating at times, I know they love me, well Meabh and Aoife anyway. They don’t care if I am fat and ugly and they don’t care of I don’t know about politics and that because we only talk about childish things, which of course I know loads about because I am a child inside. I never managed to retain anything I learned in school and all I did was make friends and lose friends as well as lose my self-respect and confidence.

Of course if I had just believed in myself and not what other people were telling me like Dad, and Rachel when we were at war as well as taking to heart that Liam choose Sorrell. I might not be here, I might be the way I remember myself to be before, Maybe this is what being an adult is all about, or maybe I should just admit to myself that I suffer from depression.

The fear of addiction

I don’t drink, well not usually. I might have a drink on my birthday, mostly because people threaten that they won’t come out unless I do. I’ll have one and will still feel horrible the next day as if my insides have been ripped apart. I avoid drinking, I didn’t go underage drinking, hiding in bushes or using a fake ID. I had a few drinks when I turned 18 and even then I didn’t get drunk. I had a friend I used to socialise with the odd time and he seemed to have a bit of control over me, it was very much a case of asking me to jump and I would keep jumping until her would tell me to stop. This went on for years, it was a very unhealthy friendship. We would go out to a club and I would end up drinking way too much vodka straight, he would hand it to me expectantly and I would just down it. No fighting, no questions asked. I would do what he said, I think I thought he was cool and looking back I’m not sure why.

I went drinking last night, I had about 5 drinks and a shot that a man at the bar bought me. I felt myself loosening up and maybe evening feeling a bit more confident but as someone who is around drunk people alot, drunk confidence can actually all be in your head.The thing is though, I didn’t care that I might have imagined it, I can be very uptight, I worry too much, about myself and about others. I need a release but  I don’t know how to find a healthy one. I had a headache today, a pounding behind my ears, I didn’t wanna leave the bed and I certainly didn’t want to go out anywhere in the car but life calls and I had to suffer on. The problem arose later as I knew it would, I would want a drink. I went and bought a nagin of vodka and I made it strong, too strong to drink, it burned my throat and made my tummy churn.

Knowing myself better than anyone else does. I know I have a very addictive personality. I can get hooked on something that I don’t even like very much. I fear drink and what it can do to people. I have seen it destroy people, change lives and break families apart and I don’t want to be someone who lets it take over. I need to be careful. Letting loose is one thing, but letting it take over is another. I put the vodka away but I could hear it calling me from the cupboard.

Purple and White Dots

My favourite item of clothing is my purple and white polka dot hoodie. I bought it in New York a few years ago and it is my feel good hoodie. I’d wear it for days and days and just feel safe in it. It’s my feel good hoodie.

I realised about a month ago it had gone missing. I looked EVERYWHERE but between living in town and being at my parents and going to work and calling to people I could have left it anywhere! I turned all the houses upside down and sent out texts to the usual girls who rob that hoodie.  No one had it and my housemate joked he was keeping it hostage for a day he really needed money because I would pay big bucks to get it back.

About a month ago, I fell out with a friend, more than a friend really. A best friend, a lover, a secret keeper and someone who lets me hide behind him when I need too. I had called to his house to tell him that he had hurt me and that not only did I not want to sleep with him anymore but I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to even see him again. Like most people I don’t take rejection well and at that point sitting in his living room, I wanted out. I don’t want to surround myself with people who make me feel bad about myself. I walked out with no intention of ever going back.

With emotions running high, some people who know me all too well casually mentioned if I went to talk to him, I might feel a bit better. I tend to call and dump all my worries, fears and problems on him. Then we’ll eat, watch tv, kiss and cuddle and I’ll go home, leaving all the things that were bothering me behind and he’ll get rid of them before I come back the next time.

Despite being of a stubborn nature I caved and contacted him. Explaining that my madness hadn’t subsided but I did need to talk to him. I waited outside the door before even knocking, afraid of what feelings would come flooding when I saw him. I could hear his footsteps getting closer after I knocked and I took one last deep breath and nodded Hello. He asked me to wait, I turned around to see him pull out my purple and white polka dot hoodie from the hot press. I reached out and took it from him, squeezing it tight like a child squeezes a teddy she has been reunited with.

We sat, on the same couch but miles apart. I had my knees up to my chin and my arms wrapped around them. I was in protective mode. I didn’t want to let him in, I just needed to drop off some thoughts so he could dispose of them like he always done. I talked and ranted but the urge to leave was unnatural. I stuck it out and asked how he was. I got a response I wasn’t expecting.

Tears. He started to cry, telling me that he couldn’t have me leave again and filling me in on a story I was not really ready to come to grips with.  I held out my hand and he took it, we sat like that for over an hour talking and consoling each other. When it came time to leave, we clung to each other. Neither one wanting to let go, unsure of how we would next see each other. Would I have to bite the bullet and try to make nice or  would he fight to have me back in his life. Who would put their stubbornness aside and fight for our friendship  first?

I woke up this morning in my hoodie and I was greeting by a text sent while I had been sleeping.

It appears he is willing to fight for it.

The White Witch

Feeling at a bit of a crossroads, I made an appointment to see the white witch of the Isles. She lives in Cobh and is a bit mad in the head. I waiting on the steps for her, looking out over the harbour, I wondered what she would tell me. A gold taxi pulled up and she struggled to get out of the car. I went over to help her with the door, her limp dark hair had grey roots past her ears and it stuck to her head from grease while her clothes were too big for her. A long black skirt pulled up just under her breast bone, with a old fashioned floral shirt tucked in, the buttons gaping because her breasts were sagging in different directions.

We walked through a freshly painted red front door and unlocked another door that led into a thin room that smelled of damp and urine. This room brought us into a smaller room with two chairs, some rolled up carpet and loads of random mess around the place. She wandered around as if looking her own arse and came back with some matches and lit the  superser. The tiny room quickly warmed up, she sat down next to me and took my hand in hers and started going crazy with a blue bic pen. Drawing circles and dots and scribbling on a page. She rambled alot and after a while the smell started to make my stomach churn and I wanted to leave.

I came out into the bright sunlight, after being in a dark room lit my a small desk lamp to my friend who was waiting for me.I don’t know why I thought it would help, get some clarity maybe, but I left Cobh no wiser and no happier than when I had arrived an hour before.

Moving Out

So, this is it. 4 weeks and I will be living with two friends in town.

We’ve seen a few places that we liked but we’re waiting to hear back on them but now they’ve all handed in their notce, we’ll have to find somewhere or be homeless. So, that bring us to St Stephens Day. Meaning Christmas night will be my last night at home. To say I am nervous is an undertstatement. To say I am scared shitless might be more accurate.

I want to have freedom and independence and figure things out for myself. I want to feel like an adult and learn how to compromise and budget money.I want to have parties and people over, I want to fend for myself and feel free.

However, I am scared of being homesick for my bed and missing my Mom alot. I can’t drive home in the middle of the night and hop into her bed with her for a chat. I am afraid the boys won’t let me come in for late chats if I can’t sleep or if I’m worried about something.

It’s time I moved out, I’m 25 now but I have only even known a single bed in a family house with the familair sounds that the house makes. When we moved houe when I was 10 and it took me weeks to sleep properly, get used to the sounds and the feeling of the room, I moved bedrooms three times before I could sleep properly. I am nervous about all these things and more. Like how my social life will change, I won’t have as much money for going out and doing things as I used to and I’m afraid that I’ll feel left out or get left behind.

 

Please stop farting in my car, it makes me cry.

I cried tears after I left you tonight. Big heavy sobbing tears. I had to pull the car over at the side of the road and wait until they had passed.

You laughed when I clung to you and I laughed because you felt that this was a great opportunity to fart A fine example of how mad our friendship is. The thing is, I want to promise you that you will  not forgotten, not by me or by anyone else we know.I wish you could understand, understand properly without me having to sound silly while trying to explain that you don’t have to write a book, or be a famous photographer or win a nobel prize to change the world. You just need to reach out and make a difference to someone, just one person and that one person will reach out and touch someone else and so the circle goes on and on and you’ll have been a part of it. You are a part of it. You reached out and I let you in and now I in turn will reach out. We are all connected in a way that means no ones legacy will be left behind or become just scraps of paper or worn out photos.

I will remember and I will make sure that no one forgets. Pinky Promise.

Teach me how to shine

The was only four of us left in the room, it was about 5am, pushing six and he picked up the guitar and started to play a song by the Frames.  To the left of me another guitar got picked up and their voices joined together.  Waiting for the chorus, we joined in. You could feel the room change, like magic sweeping all around us, into our lungs and back out.

“Star Star, teach me how to shine”  Looking around, I got a wink, a smile and I saw tears. It was  one of those moments you couldn’t plan but I knew would be put in a box and remembered forever.

Childrens Names

I was chatting with my friend the other day and the conversation of children’s names came up. We sat and discussed names we liked. I had to admit i laughed at most of his, he picked names that wouldn’t match his surname and I advised him to let his future wife name the kids. For girls, I like names like Savannah, Vada, Elizabeth, Alex. For boys I like Adam, Ronan, Eoghan/Eoin/Owen, William, Harry. (I can’t really name kids William and Harry though since that might be terms for bullying!) The thing is, I don’t know anyone named Savannah, Vada, Elizabeth or Alex (Well I have a friend who is a guy called Alex, ironically the guy I was having this conversation with!) BUT I do know and Adam, Ronan, Eoghan/Eoin, William and Harry. They are the men in my life who have been there through the years, people who mean something to me. They keep me strong, they are my guiding stars and because of them, I know how I should be treated by a guy. Someone said to me recently, “anyone who gets to know *insert name here* is just looking to have their heart broken, how have you escaped?”  I laughed and said. “I love him, like all my boys in the simplest most puerest way, He can’t break my heart, he is someone who helps protect it for me” It suddenly became clear to me why I would name a child after one of them. I love them, they are real men who inspire me, comfort me, protect me and remind me, to just be me.

Be who you want to be

Some people say I’m wise. My mother says it often enough and people who are older than me who come to me advice say the same thing. I’m older than my years or something to that effect. It’s made me wonder though, what makes someone wise and if I am infact wise, then how did I get so wise?! I haven’t been to college or travelled the world and the experiences I’ve had have only been in my tiny town and most likely with the same 10 or so people. I thought about this for quite some time, I thought about it even longer when my mother said it was her doing that I was so wise. I don’t even think I’m wise. I think I may have just become more insightful. I am most fortunate to have people come talk to me, to vent, to cry and to get solutions. I can’t think of a problem I haven’t heard or a dilema that wasn’t somehow similar to someone elses. it kinda boils down to one thing though, aren’t we all on some way the same core being. We all have flaws and imperfections and we are all in some way hiding those flaws and imperfections from other people in fear of being judged or unliked. We all hate something bout our bodies and wish we were better at something, be it sport, music or art. We are all in some way, to quote Shakespeare, “playing a part”  Do we chose our roles or has someone else put us in that role. Do we become the agony aunt because we want to or because that’s the way people treat us so wel fill the role and become that character. I haven’t really figured out who I am to my friends and family but when I do, I hope I like who it is.

Things I really hate.

I really hate picking up loads of wet tea bags. I don’t like the feeling of them in my hand.

I hate private numbers, I know you never know who is calling on  the landline but that call might not be for you anyway but a call to your mobile is always for you.

I can’t stand nail polish. I put it on and about 5 minutes later I’m scrathing it off, it always feels wrong on my finger nails.

Secrets drive me crazy. Not secrets of nice things and personal secrets but I mean the type of secrets that tear people and friendships apart.

Being adopted. While it makes for a great story. I wish my Mom had given birth to me, so she could tell me what it felt like to have me grow inside her. It would also mean I would not get cross everytime I think of Mary because Mary would not exist to me.

When a biscuit downs in my tea and then I’ve to drink tea with crumbly bit floating around in it.

Getting up early, this post is kinda early to post and I have to get up soon for work, so I will experience a pet hate in a few hours!

Saving money, I can’t do it. I actaully suck at it. I have about seven euro to my name until Friday.

Being really tired but not being able to sleep because my brain can’t shut down.

Looking back, I’m a  terror for it and while its nice just a for a little while to remember what once was, it’ll never be like that again and that makes me sentimental about people I don’t see anymore. It also makes me sentimental about the people around now because I fear some may end up with the same fate.

Having to blog because I was lectured on not blogging, because I lectured him on not blogging.