To be honest...

...over the summer I felt the heaviness from the shadows that hover behind, they tell the me within, that my old foe is furtively watching. I should know better, here is the signal whereby I should let myself relax out of hours and allow Larry and others to help me out. But admitting to my frailties only feeds the angst and guilt that I am not wonderwife and instead wimpywife. Yes! I know this is silly, an untruth, but this is what the menopausal head screams.

I fill myself up with errands, small projects and I tend never to say No! to anything. This only becomes a problem when it mounts up and then I find it more difficult than usual to juggle it all.

I have taken on 3 book reviews for a readers' magazine. I am also on the panel reading 6 books on the long list for a National Book Award. I have just started a computer course for work at college, 3 hours a week for 32 weeks, which all seem to fall on my days off, resulting in more juggling and stressing. I recently decided to not stop my online business, but to relaunch it with all new stock. My choice I know, but I do enjoy it so. Then I was approached last month by a feature editor to be the contributor for fashion feature for the Christmas edition. How can l say No? Hours of pressing and sewing and getting the clothing accessorized. I am enjoying it. But it doesn't all fit in my cup. It doesn't just overflow its a bloody Tsunami and it's all in my head. Hence a minor series of panic attacks. Brain freeze. Coping with the daily routine is getting on my wick. At work I am distracted by focusing on the one job. But at home, I begin to show the cracks. To cook, to clean. Chores indeed. The shine has worn off the new home. The kids seem to avoid me at all costs. They must know instinctively Mum's having a mental! I've taken to going to bed early. I waken, thinking, Can I stay here please?

I know what to do. So I make a list of all the things I am currently doing. I cull the list. Leaving what will give me most pleasure. And which will be the easiest and less stressful to manage. I divide them up into bite size chunks. The Do-able. And the not do-able. Put aside for later. Or never. My mind is less cluttered. A path is clear.

I have this space where I can go now. Here. I can write my thoughts and publish. Or not! I can return and read my mess. To share or not to share. Is this depression or just menopausal madness?

Two days later... I have an appointment with my doctor fixed. Just to check up. Today was photo-shoot day. It began with NeRvEs. But I knew everything was ready. Then all hell broke loose, one hour early they phoned, they are on their way. They arrived. One journo, one photographer, two teen models, two hairdressers, one make-up artist and one stylist. Thankfully my pal Carlotta arrived with milk and a smile. She shored me up, 'It's okay you CAN do this,' she said. 'Feeling crappy or not. This is something positive, for you.' We were both dressed in our vintage finery, and fixed, fitted and flattered. No one took our picture. We made tea, made smiles and made happy. The sofa was in the garden for time, a model in 50's green satin stood pretty amongst four toning green conifers. They primped, preened and posed in a cocktail bar, a Chinese garden and a motorway flyover! wtf?? One model in a bronze metallic creation, wore her Uggs while her hair was teased up high, out came the Dyson and this image the photographer thought was edgy, so this may end up on the editing floor or in the magazine. (Will post images as soon as I get them end of November-ish).

They arrived at 10am and left and 6.45pm.

I feel quite tired, chilled and unfazed. Or is this the one glass of ice cold rose wine I just sunk?

All will be well. I know this to be true.

As the man said. Hold on.*

*James Frey, A Million Little Pieces

Our communion of writing

As the stars, sun and moon keep balance with each other, I too feel blanketed in the synergy here that shines its light through this place of writing.

Often times posts appear on the same or similar subject. It constantly amazes me how this happens within this vast land of united creativity.

In my imagination I see us all as a force of fertile overlapping circles. Bridging the gap. A balance between imagination & frustration.

We are in the same space, different place.

Different stories, same tune.

Like minded exchanges. Some challenging thoughts, views to stimulate thought.

Each story, each journey miles apart, but here we confess, unburden, fess up, confide, enlighten, encourage, incite, evoke every emotion.

Friendships made. Stories written. Hands reach out.

Holding on. Breathing deep. A lifeline for some.

A light for the night time. A few words for the day ahead.

Alone, but not lonely.

Though for some, the fear is always in residence,

punching through the darkness,

bravely we walk, hesitant to run.

Hope is always in my pocket,

I can feel it's shape comforting me through the fabric

that is straining with each beat of its heart

and I remember..

hope is stronger than the fear...

the life blood, we cannot live without.

Less restrained. Unburdened. Here we dare to hope. To speak. To write. To breathe deeply within the comfort of friends.

Sit & watch or jump in?

we sit on the periphery...
the main performance is fear....
we take steps and begin a journey that we are not always able to attend....
we anticipate and enjoy the planning but sometimes the road is too steep and we are ill prepared...
we live learning about our limitations...

we are not limitless ...

the boundaries are there for a reason and we shift and break them, then run back to their safety...

often I just want to sit on the sidelines and watch, people watching, watching life before my eyes...

it takes my breath away, the fragility of it, one moment it's here, the next it is in danger...

I have met some very brave women here, they speak to me directly it seems, through their writing...

I am ashamed of my vulnerabilities, my fears, my inability to live life bravely..

I forget that this is it, life, and that it isn't a rehearsal, and time is always passing...

I stand in awe at my friends' bravery, their will, their strength...

I yearn that I too, can find the hope, to jump in wholeheartedly

and join the show that is the NOW

Hang on. Dare to hope.

Please visit Sallymandy at Blue Kimono she has written a corker of a post today about Depression. She has been true to herself and is very brave. In the spirit of her post and in support of it, I also 'come out'. For those that cannot voice or have no voice.

I wrote this comment, 'Well said. Well written. Informed and infected. A curse for sure. A blessing, I fail to see, unless being able to understand the plight of fellow sufferers is itself a relief.

The pull yourself together brigade and the I don't want to take pills for the rest of my life, known to me as 'the curtain brigade' are in denial. Is there a rock bottom, sure. But it isn't a place one aims to be. It is the place we avoid. At all costs.

To recover we need understanding, the realisation that this isn't to spite anyone, inspite of ourselves.

At some point, sometimes the duvet is the only answer.Until the light at the end of the tunnel shows itself. Hang on. Dare to hope.'

Within a cold damp lie I am trapped,

tight and pinching it slowly shrinks dry.

Long forgotten pleasures collide with the remote present,

all future contentment, obscured by fear.

Saturated with mourning lost hopefulness

and embracing a splinter of clarity 

with wanting and needing

 and gasping for life

I hold dusk like onto each breath of fear,

mindful of the new day

Spring 2004

Hope springs...

There has been much expounding of the virtues of spring 

on the human psyche  (you see I have been lurking a little).

I have been mulling over spring for three weeks now 

and I have been too encumbered 

by the domestic travails of moving house and home, 

as you know - you would have had to be

 living in outer Mongolia to miss this titbit.

However all I want to say on Spring is encompassed in these few words ...

Hope springs eternal in the human breast;

Man never Is, but always To be blest:

The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home,

Rests and expatiates in a life to come.

-Alexander Pope,

An Essay on Man, Epistle I, 1733

Helping herself

When the papers kick off  with their stories of  Britney, Amy or Jordan, I balk at their lack of integrity and their willingness to knock a girl when she is down. To sell to the masses their poor excuse for a newspaper.

I haven't a bought a red top since the early 1980's when they slandered a young tormented actor  who reacted badly to one of their 'features' and he tragically took his own life. I felt they were partly culpable. I also felt they played a huge part in the death of Princess Diana.

Amy Winehouse  is a talented songwriter, an amazing singer - usually-  who for one reason or another got herself into drink and drugs. I was dreading hearingmore bad news.  But when l saw this picture of her last week on holiday, the mother in me thought what a relief it was to see some flesh on her and not seeing all her bones. Her husband is apparently off the scene. She's looking healthier,  let's hope her mind is in a better place also. 

I am hopeful for her.

What do you want to be

... when you grow up? I read an article recently which asked this question of children and  teenagers from different backgrounds, countries and cultures. It was very interesting and revealing, as the children had either very little or were privileged by way of circumstance or example. It was enriching to hear they all had aspirations and dreams, way beyond their existing horizons.

But the question kept resounding with me and I kept asking myself … 'What do I want to be when I grow up?'

Yes! I know I am grown up already, in age and definitely in experience and  perhaps in some wisdom too!I have been single. I have lived alone in dreary and lonely bedsit land. I have spent Christmas alone twice and new years eve too often to count. I have been lucky enough to travel and live in different countries in three continents, experiencing different cultures.

I have had several careers. I am a qualified hairdresser - 1970s; I am an experienced fashion  buyer, Manager and Area Manager - 1980's; I have worked in the Voluntary sector as an area development manager and I am a qualified Bookseller & Buyer with Diploma- 1990’s. I am long-time married and I have given birth to and raised two children.  The jury is out on ‘successful’. I can only hope it will be said I was a good mum, wife, daughter. 

Why does this question still resonate with me? Perhaps because I know in my mind and believe in my heart that it's never too late. I may sound like a glass half empty type of girl most of the time. But I strongly believe in Hope, that hope is actually more important than love, in that if one hasn’t love, doesn't love, one can hope. Without hope, I truly believe one is lost. So I can 

hope and I can aspire to do more, to travel, to run my own shop, to have a spare room as a library and have a beach hut or vintage trailer in the back just for me.  I study with the Open University to stretch my mind, teach and inform me so I want to continue pursuing this. When I grow up I may earn a degree or two just for me.To be trivial for a moment, when I grow up I 

would like to have the style of Paloma Picasso, the panache of Vivienne Westwood and be dressed by Chanel by day and Valentino by night; I would love to be as eloquent and passionate about art as Brian Sewell or Simon Scahma.

I've done my share of growing up, I am a grown up and allowing for the fact that one needs to make a living, do I want to do more things and have more things to do?  Or do I want to be someone or something more? Do I want to ‘be’ anything again? There is so much yet to do, to learn, to see and to say.  And as I don’t know how big a bottle I am drinking from, I can still keep drinking as I do not know when it will run out. I think it crucial to say the things that are important in that moment. 

I still have a lot of growing up to do. I hope when I grow up I won't be saying I would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. I hope I will be saying I will, I can, I shall and I’m going to start that right now…

... what do you want to be?