100 Sad Days: Day 29 La La La

Not all abuse in a relationship is physical. Just like all illnesses are not obvious. Although they are "mental" it doesn't make them any less significant.

An Open Letter:

Your words are often harsh and I let them float over my head. I know it's not you thinking. It's alcohol, it's tiredness, it's money, it's family, it's drugs, its work, it's whatever excuse I decide to label it with to move on.

Sometimes they cut so deep. Putting small cracks in my heart that need love to fill the gaps. When this happens forgiveness takes a little longer.

When it is constant the opposite happens and I pull down the shutters. I stop feeling. I stop caring. I am numb. This is when I want to never wake up.

And then there are the unforgivable things. The venomous words spat from your mouth. Not in anger. Not in rage. Just in hate and apathy. What do I do with those? Where do I go from there?

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Mum's Got Cancer; Part Four

Can we ask just one thing of you:- Please stop asking me how Mum is. I know you mean well and you honestly do care; you want to know that she is ok: but we can't tell you that. In fact we are tired of having to repeat ourselves and remind ourselves that Mum isn't going to get better. That this is it. That we can't help her but can on;y make her comfortable. Maybe ask how I am, or if there is anything you can do, or just give us a hug. Maybe just squeeze our shoulder and don't say anyhting. If we want to talk, I promise, we will. Sometimes, like my Blog, it is cathartic. Other times it hurts in a way I cannot explain. The best thing to do is send a message, a text, an email, and if/when we feel like it we will respond. Forgive us if we see you are calling and cannot take your call. It is tiring, emotionally, to drag our way through a conversation we do not want to have. We know you care and we don't want to appear rude but...

London Calling

I am no longer based "in town" and I never thought I'd miss it. Yet every Wednesday when I am London bound I find myself looking forward to what I will be greeted by. It's not the hustle and bustle - the fast moving commuters and slow shuffling tourists. It's not the shops and bargains abound. It's the buildings, the Underground, the knowing smile you may get from a fellow passenger, or the sarcastic comment of a Tube driver. I love London and its diversity. I love that you can walk just a short distance and be greeted by a whole new world. I love that you can randomly bump into an old friend you haven't seen for years. Making our big world smaller every day. I love St Paul's how proud it stands in the heart of the City. The fact it has survived wars and still attracts throngs of people to it everyday. I love the pomp and circumstance of the City and its Idiosyncrasies. I love that the museums are free and that you can meander around beautifu...

Mum's Got Cancer; Part Eight

We have always been open and talked about death and funerals. I think one of the first things we spoke about after your diagnosis was about your funeral and the scattering of your ashes. Some people think it's macabre but I do it to prepare myself. The more I do now the less I HAVE to do later. We know your wishes and we have the addresses. I have your scatter tube and soon your order of service. I know what I will read and that Rachel won't be able to. But I don't want them; I want you. The promise of you, not forever, just for longer. Don't go yet Mum, please, stay a while x

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