Phoenix Fights

Fighting the FEAR, depression and BDP on a daily basis AND making my own bread. Bring it on 2016….


14 Comments

I’VE GOTTA BE ME? #BPD

demotivation.us_EVERYONE-HAS-AN-ANNOYING-FRIEND-If-you-dont-have-one-its-probably-you_136343104092

I just had a bit of a spat with one of my closest friends, and for once, I had no idea where it came from.

I knew he was pissy with me because of his silence and lack of ‘How are you?’ texts for a few days, but when I sent him one telling him that I just got a days work with a well know steak restaurant, he totally killed my buzz by replying:

‘Well being a vegan you can’t expect me to cheer about it’.

Alrighty.

And because I was a bit peeved by his passive aggressive silence and for pissing on my bovine BBQ, especially as (a) he’s not normally so easily offended, and (b) lives with a carnivore, (c) knows how financially strapped I am, I replied with a sarky but humorous:

‘You?  A vegan?  Really?  But you’ve kept so quiet about it!’.

Because out of all of our circle of friends I am the most supportive, helpful and facilitating of his lifestyle choice.  I send him recipes, I eat in veggie/vegan restaurants with him (something one of our close buds wouldn’t even contemplate) buy him vegan friendly gifts, make him vegan food and treats, and even baked him a vegan ‘cake’ for his birthday.

But then the real reason for his snippiness came out.  Apparently I had offended his partner by the tone of an email I had sent to our circle of friends.

I was dismayed.

‘It was banter!  Surely the exclamation marks and winky faces gave that away?  Anyway Bruce hardly has a subtle sense of humour, surely he should be able to put his big boy pants on and suck it up?  As for your being a vegan, I never forget that and am always willing to work around it, but I eat meat, always have and I need the money!  Can’t you just be glad for me?’

Then I was hit by a barrage of venom about how insensitive I was, how eating meat was like child abuse (interesting, does that mean that beef biting Bruce is his live in nonce?), how it’s my fault if I got the tone of the communication wrong, and if it was such an effort I shouldn’t bother to try work around his eating habits.

Gotcha.

The thing is I’ve know this individual for nearly 20 years so he should (a) be able to tell when I’m joking, (b) be able to automatically give me the benefit of the doubt if he thinks for one minute that I’m serious, and (c) talk to me like a man before jumping to conclusions.

6a016766faffa0970b017ee3bceffb970d

But I’m starting to fear that coming out as EUPD and depressive has given certain people a ‘Get into Jail Free’ card when it comes to deciding who’s right and who’s wrong, because I know for a fact that when I was younger, my humour was much more caustic, unforgiving and in your face.  But because in their minds I was more or less ‘normal’ then that was just down to my strong personality and everyone took it on the chin and gave back as good as they got.

But now that I’m officially a ‘Bunny Boiler’ and more emotionally vulnerable, then they can allude to me being a bit mental as a get out clause when they want to win an argument.

I also remembered that I forgot my meds that day which may have led me to being a bit more hyper than usual.

Fuck.

So I asked another very outspoken member of our crew if she thought my email was rude, she was emphatic that it was not, and that she read it as, not just my sense of humour, but our collective sense of humour. This was and is how we roll, both in written form and face to face.

Right!  Exactly!

And to be honest, would it be such a terrible thing if I actually came off my meds and then be even more myself?

Whilst this wouldn’t be the best idea right now, it is definitely a long term goal as being perpetually tamped down makes for a very boring Sista indeed.  My passion is part of who I am, and in order to live my life to the fullest, I gotta be me, regardless of what anyone else thinks or how they choose to judge me.

Si’s behaviour does feel like something of a betrayal though.  A less healthy Sista would have cut him to shreds, held a grudge for months, been much less flexible and not bothered to make any kind of effort with the friendship moving forward.

But I’m bigger than that nowadays.

Well I will be in a few days as I need time to simmer down as I’ve just cut my medication by half.  Yay!

Look out world, the largely undiluted, allegedly annoying, takes no prisoners Sista is coming atcha so you better put meat on your argument, or prepare to be roasted in the process! 😉

dr seuss

Peace to all and Namaste x

http://www.oldielyrics.com/lyrics/sammy_davis_jr/ive_gotta_be_me.html


19 Comments

AS SAFE AS HOUSES

2012-05-12_16-15-58_852

It’s ironic that after all of these years of hiding away at every given opportunity in this little burrow, I’m now being forced to leave it for good.  But it’s hardly surprising and I’m being ejected at my own hand really.

To my eternal shame, I do get benefits from the government, but they do not cover my mortgage, which I totally understand.  Why should they buy part of my property for me?  But it’s some other humungous charges that are to be my downfall.  On top of my repeatedly sticking my head back in the sand, pretending that my payout/savings would last forever.

Then came the day when I realised that not only did I have but a couple of grand left, but a massive bill would be winging its way to me in a matter of days, and I felt all the blood drain from my face and head to my bowels where it sloshed and churned miserably, and still does to this day.

Being penniless and on the street has always been my worst nightmare.  It was my mother’s before me too, and I seem to have inherited that from her.  Along with bad eyesight and goofy teeth.

Thanks for that, mum.

So why have I brought my own horror story to life?

Well for a start, in the past when one door closed (job wise) something else tended to creak open so I’d always, if not land on my feet, manage to stagger to them with a couple of grazed knees and a mild case of concussion.  Nothing amazing or career enhancing you understand, but I’d put my feelers out and something would come up on my radar and save my financial bacon.

Not this time.  In all fairness, as most of you know, I did deliberately eschew the corporate world for the last 2 years, and of course my EUPD (BPD) diagnosis did nothing to stabilise my condition or confidence, but I have applied for other jobs. One or two of similar seniority, some mid range, but mostly pretty lowly ones, that paid a fraction of what I used to earn.  Jobs i could do blindfolded, with one arm tied behind my back.  

Did I even get a callback?  

Not one single one.

I’ve done odd days of ad hoc work.  I’ve tried to sell my baking.  And above all, I’ve been constantly on the alert for a sign from God whom I thought, given that I’m watching and listening so intently, might give me a clue as to what my purpose should be on this earth and perhaps open a door for me. Even the tiniest crack in some some shitty, splintered, graffiti festooned door somewhere would do.

Hunt_Light_of_the_World

Is that too much to ask?

But if he’s sent me any messages, my network must be playing up as I’m still no further on when it comes to figuring out what my next steps are with regard to this predicament and indeed the rest of my life.

And I constantly mull and ponder and question myself.  Have I been making this all up? Is there a God?  Does he/she/it have a plan for me?  Or is it all random and I have no more of a destiny than that little grey mouth pounding it silly head against the hot bulb of my reading lamp?  My cat is watching it very intently so I don’t fancy it’s chances once it gets bored of doing that either….

147571456_8099d57b93_z

So I’m meant to live, eat, shit, fuck, sleep, die and decompose and it’s no more complicated than that?

Or I am burning up some horrible karma from a previous life where I’ve been a total biatch, and that’s why I’m getting the silent treatment?

Maybe God is just thinking ‘Lazy, cocky little mare, who does she think she is?  Who said I have a plan for her anyway?  Slog away aimlessly little insect until I decide to acknowledge and give you something useful to do.  If you’re lucky.’

Boy I’ve done a number on myself, make no mistake about it.  Because if, no let’s be honest, WHEN I leave here, I’ll be unable to do the 2 year Schema Therapy trial as I’ll be living in outside London so not entitled to it.

The only thing that would rectify this situation would be if I got a full time job here and was able to fully support myself.  And let’s face it, that ain’t looking too hopeful.

But maybe this is meant to be.  Maybe I’m meant to move.  And if I’m able to buy a little place outright with what I get from this place, that would be a load of my mind.  I could get a tiny house with a little garden for my mogs somewhere in the sticks.

What if I can’t get a job in Newfoundtown?  Well I can’t get one here, so what’s the difference?!  And whilst I might be super broke, the bailiffs might take my TV (ARRGHH!), and my leccy and gas might get cut off, I’d still own the place and no one will be able to repossess it.

As for the Schema, I’m due to get a proper written diagnosis so maybe that will help me get some alternative therapy in the new borough/city/county.

Oh God, the thoughts just keep whirling around in my head.  And after the shit that’s come from living in it to date, I still want to shrink back into my brick shell and not do anything bar trembling under my duvet.

Aunty C (my counsellor) is being wonderful and supportive and optimistic. But I know she’s afraid for me too.

As for my family, I’ve pretty much told them that I’ve run out of money and have to sell, and that message was met with complete silence before my sister changed the subject and wanted to catch up on some gossip about a mutual friend.

No offers of support or help.  I think she’s worried I’ll ask for money or ask to stay with her but I’d rather slice my tongue out than do that, as the last time I did that, many years ago, she presented me with an invoice the day I left.  The bill was calculated as if I were lodger renting a room, there was a charge for the food I imbibed per day, a share of the energy bill, TV licence, council tax etc., and came complete with a date that it must be paid by.

I walked away in shock.  I hadn’t even started my new job and felt about as loved as a dose of herpes.

Then a week later she demanded a contribution toward a very expensive gift for a family member when I didn’t have a penny to my name, and when I told her I didn’t have it, she threatened to stop me seeing her kids if i didn’t comply.

I forgave her many years ago. But some things you never forget.

What I would have appreciated was a call asking if I was OK, maybe some advice and a bit of sisterly support, but she can stick it now.

One thing’s for sure, I won’t be moving anywhere near her as many have advised.  Anyway I don’t have to worry about being lonely in the new town, because that’s always with me, wherever I go.

So I just need to get on with it so that I can walk out of here with my head held high and not tweezed out, wriggling all the way like a winkle on the end of a pin.

That’s a good point!  I could live at the seaside!

OK so this might be a good thing, but I’m going to do a three pronged approach.

1.  Get this place valued, start looking for somewhere and figure out how much money I need to facilitate the entire operation.

2.  Doctor/dumb down my CV with a view to getting secretarial/admin work.  A EPA/Miss Moneypenny kind of role ideally.

3.  Write to my lenders and explain the situation, ask them what they can do for me, and if nothing else assure them that I’ll be paying them off in full so they have nothing to fear and don’t need to repossess.

Lord I’m scared.  But I’m going to bite the bullet and get on with it.

I have Clara and my friends, and I also remember that I always feel stronger when i look after my body and diet. In fact the Lent period was the healthiest I’d ever been so I guess i should get back on that too.

I think this is a quite good plan.  Unless stuff goes wrong.  And there’s so much that can go wrong. Especially with my karma.

Fuck, STOP THAT SISTA!

This fucking FEAR rules my ass big time.

I just want to find a place I can call home.  As I’ve never felt that I belong anywhere.

And it occurs to me that if I can conquer this SHIT and feel a sense of belonging within myself then I could feel at home anywhere like those little molluscs, adrift in a vast, all encompassing ocean, but perfectly happy in their self sufficient shells.

That’s quite a way off though.  

And even they have to look out for the pricks….

Please pray for me.

Namaste xx

 

 

 


12 Comments

THERE’S A DOG IN THE MANGER, WHAT AM I GONNA DO?

mirror teacher

Sigh…

I’m trying really hard to see the positives in people, but, of late, all I seem to encounter are the negatives…

So I have a very close friend, one of the closest, who is also unemployed, but that is where the similarity ends.

She has only been out of the work place for six months, she and her partner are very well off, her partner will support her come what may, she also has both of her parents who would always house/support her if things went drastically wrong, and, after flirting with the idea of escaping the rat race, she wants to be back in the corporate world full time ASAP.

She also doesn’t have any mental health issues hindering her progress whatsoever.

Beth (not her real name) and I have grown closer during this period and have been mutually supportive to date, and I routinely check and edit her job application letters before she sends them off the the relevant company, but what she has been sending me most recently is so half assed effort wise that I feel that she’s getting lazy and needs to learn from what I send her, and not just send me the skeleton of her communication and expect me down load the job ad, check her CV and add all of the flesh for her.

alphabets-skeleton-dancing-768413

So the other night, when I was feeling pretty sick and muzzy anyway, on receiving another aforementioned Mr Bonejangles, I sent him back to put a bit of weight on with a helpful note.

‘Sorry sweetie, feeling a bit shit post migraine, but can you add/amend/clarify a few things, then I can give it a final health check and amend before you send it out?’

In reply I got a rather snotty ‘I am going to rework it and send it in the morning, get better soon.  Regards Bethany’.

O-kee-dokey.

So I dropped her a line the next morning, again offering to give it a final check/edit, and this time she gratefully accepted.

That little outburst did stick in my mind though.  Hey ho, part of the BDP territory to hold grudges close to our hearts, so I tried to put it out of my mind and got on with my day.

Then yesterday, she got in touch because she wanted to offload about a part time job that was kind of offered to her, and then retracted because she’d be working for a new acquaintance who did not want to compromise their friendship.  In fairness, this friend probably knew that Beth wouldn’t stop looking for high status jobs and would leave as soon as something more suitable/lucrative came along.

But the more she talked about it the more I realised that it might be perfect for me.  And call me tactless but I asked her what this woman was like and if she’d be happy to put me forward instead?

At first she asked for me CV to forward onto said lady. Then she kind of prevaricated and said that she felt ‘weird’ going back to her and it became apparent to me that she wasn’t keen on putting me forward, even though I’m in dire financial straights and could, worst case scenario, lose my property.

And I did what I always do in these scenarios.

I pushed and pushed and pushed.

Because it wasn’t about the job anymore.  It was about (probably) my closest friend not wanting me to have something that she couldn’t have, and didn’t really want, which rightly or wrongly, this old cow found rather shocking and hurtful.

In the end, she wouldn’t send on my CV, but mentioned to her friend that she knew someone who was looking for work and if she was interested, to get in touch with me herself.

I both recognised and appreciated the concession, but was still wounded.

p0013

Because if I could have passed on a job to her, even if it was one I wanted and couldn’t have, I would have done it.

In the shake of a lambs tail.

Because that’s what friends do.

‘But that is YOU Sista!  And Beth is Beth!  You have to accept people as they are, not what you want them to be!’ booms the disembodied voice of Aunty C in my ear.

And she’s right.  I must stop judging and challenging what’s left of my friends to live up to my somewhat exacting standards and focus on my own dung instead.

grinch-heart

But I feel my heart harden and shrivel whenever I am let down in this way.

Then, just as i thought we were done, 30 minutes later Beth text me to say that this lady was interested and passed on her email address to me.

And I was relieved.  Because it did cross my mind that she didn’t even speak to her in the first place.

So whilst my heart didn’t exactly go up three sizes that day it did cease to contract and a little fresh blood plumped it back up to normal size.

Which isn’t saying that much.

But I’m trying dear God, I’m trying….

Judge ye not and all that shit…

Namaste xx

 

25 DAYS OF SONGS CHALLENGE: DAY 6 – A SONG THAT REMINDS ME OF A BEST FRIEND

10 Comments

I’m going to cheat a little here.

I want two songs.

But at least they are by the same artist, the wonderful, uniquely voiced Lloyd Cole.

And just to be extra awkward I’d like to state that I don’t really have a best friend anymore. Anyone I’ve given that description to in the past has invariably struck out at me (well in my little HSP BDP mind they have), and I don’t really trust any of them much anymore.

Hence the first song ‘Rattlesnakes’.  As in:

‘A girl needs a gun these days
Hey on account of all the rattlesnakes’

And whilst I don’t look like Eve Marie Saint in On The Waterfront (I wish), I agree on the therapy bit and that I need love.  Unfortunately ‘It’s so hard to love, when love was your great disappointment.’

I do love my friends though.  In my way.  And I’m aware that much of this could well be my imagination.

But I’d so love ‘A Brand New Friend’ that I could trust with my heart.  Maybe that has to be me.  So I’ve been told.

I know; boo hoo, hoo, crack open the gin, it’s yet another Sista S Pity Party!

Great songs though, so suck it up bitches and pass the frigging twiglets! 😉

Namaste x

http://www.lyricsfreak.com/l/lloyd+cole/rattlesnakes_20084753.html

http://songmeanings.com/songs/view/3530822107858683932/

200740_698985645152_15105094_36198685_3891468_n


19 Comments

IT’S JUST ME, MYSELF AND I

Image

So as of last weekend, it’s now officially British Summertime.

Eeek.

For most people this is great news, but I’m one of the few oddities that dreads the return of those bright mornings, long, heady days and balmy summer nights.

https://sistasertraline.wordpress.com/2013/03/04/these-are-the-days-of-the-endless-summer/

But this year I realise that if I want things to be different this year, it’s me who need to change with regard to my attitude toward summer, others, and, of course, me, myself and I.

Summer is lovely when you have friends and family to spend it with, but historically I’m not great at maintaining a loyal fun band of beach buddies or picnic pals.  I’m OK at making friends, it’s keeping them that has been the problem because I tend to put all my eggs into one basket, and when said old basket invariably (sensing my vulnerability and reliance on them), does something shitty and lets me down, I respond by dropping their ass so hard their nose bleeds.

Classic BPD behaviour doncha know.  Shame no one told me about this, oh 30 years ago?!

In fairness, I always knew that something was wrong, and Aunty C (my counsellor) tried her best to help me change the behaviour pattern without labelling me (something she was and is highly resistant to), but there is something about being diagnosed EUPD that has kicked my arse hard enough to make me realise that the world isn’t going to change, so I have to.

Before I thought it was all others doing stuff to me.

But the reality is that it’s my behaviour that allows them to do it.

And my desire for only a couple of soul mate and no superficial acquaintances compounded by my ridiculous reluctance to do anything by myself tends to leave me in a very shitty, lonely spot between the proverbial rock and hard gaff.

So, as I see it, a two pronged attack is necessary.

Firstly, I need to be more sociable.  Yes, I know I’ve been saying this for months, nay, years now, and I’m still on the back foot, but from now on I am really going to try and get out there, do small talk (ARRGHH!), meet more people and spread my eggs far and wide.

That sounds a bit unsavoury doesn’t it?  But you know what I mean.

And even if the first few times are, sorry, feel uncomfortable/boring/pointless, I must persist as sometimes it takes a while for people to show their true selves and grow on you, and vice versa.  I know for a fact that this is going to be a massive challenge, as I’m not good at ‘trying’ with people, and flee at the slightest whiff of rejection, but I don’t think I have any choice if I want things to change.

For example, I could have gone dancing tonight.

But I didn’t.  I’m here writing this for you because I made up all the excuses in the world for not going, and I’m not going to meet any new folk that I can socialise with in my spare bedroom.

At least I hope not anyway…

Image

 

The other thing I have to address is my fear and reluctance of doing stuff on my own.

You may well be thinking right now ‘Why does this stupid mare dump her friends all the time if she hates flying solo?’

The answer is ‘I don’t know dipshit, I’ve got a personality disorder!’

Image

 

Sorry, I digress….

The other day I suggested to a friend that we go for a walk in the park.  She couldn’t make it because she had to study.

Did I go anyway?

No.

Why?

I’ve asked myself this a million times, and I think it’s because I’m frightened of looking sad/lonely/conspicuous to those of you out there with loved ones to play with.  However, when I think about it, I’m sure you’re too busy arguing with your wife, trying to find a parking space, stopping your kid/dog from jumping in the pond after the ducks, squeezing your boyfriend’s bejeaned bum or finishing your Mr Whippy before its dribbles down your arm to notice some old misfit like me hovering around the periphery of life, apologising for my very existence to absolute strangers, some who are probably just as weird as me.

And some even more so.

Image

Anyway surely it’s better to look like a saddo and be out there enjoying the day than staying at home and actually being a saddo?

You keep telling yourself that Sista, just you keep on telling yourself that….

I know it won’t happen over night.

But I am going to try harder.

Because I may not be like everyone else or fit in with the masses, but who wants to be the same old boring ‘coloured water’ anyway?

De_La_Soul_Me_Myself_And_I_Cover

And if people stare, whisper and laugh, well that’s their shit.

 

Because one day I’m gonna be happy with my own company.  And when that day arrives, my aura will be so beautiful, attractive and beguiling, I’ll probably have to fight all the others off with a stick.  😉

I know that many of you are in the same position as me.  You cannot bear yourself, let alone love yourself, and at times the isolation, darkness and pain are so intense that you wish yourself to be somewhere, anywhere but here on this earth and face all the shit we have to encounter every single day.

But you matter.

WE matter.

Be yourself, my lovelies.  Everyone else is taken.

Namaste x

 

 


8 Comments

IT’S NOT WHERE YOU FINISH, IT’S WHEN YOU START

Image

It’s always the same isn’t it?

The minute you think you’re onto something or found a way forward, something spooks you, you relapse and fall into your old ways.

This Lent 10,000 steps thing (https://sistasertraline.wordpress.com/2014/03/10/10000-steps/) really seemed to be working.  I was sleeping better, waking refreshed, losing blubber, but for some reason I didn’t get out of the door Thursday morning.

‘Never mind,’ I thought, ‘I’ll pop to the shops in the afternoon’.

But it didn’t happen.  I had a call from some old dragon from the benefits department and ended up having to dig out and copy yet more proof that I wasn’t a multi millionaire rigging the system and pretty soon I looked out of the window and the sun was going down.

‘That’s not the end of the world,’ I reasoned, ‘I’ve got choir tonight so I’ll go the long way and that will easily eat up 10,000 big ones’.

Well it might have, had I left the building.

Image

‘OK’ I said gravely, getting rather strict with myself now, ‘if you’re not going to choir you are definitely going to a yoga class.  You haven’t done anything since Tuesday.’

Guess what happened.

That’s right.  Nada.

And 24 hours later, I still haven’t done shit or left the flat.  I nearly got out half an hour ago, I’m sat here fully made up for an evening out but still in my trackies.  I had a fun evening in the pipeline, but something somehow held me back, and now I loathe myself and my weakness even more.

Why is it so easy to slip back into old, destructive habits, especially when things had started to look up?  Maybe it’s because things had started to look up that I want to flee back to my hidey hole again.  Who fucking knows?

I honestly don’t know where the last 20 months or so have gone.  OK I’ve done or tried to do some useful, proactive stuff, but the majority of it has seemed to have been spunked away in front of the computer or TV, and even being off Facebook hasn’t stopped me reading gossip online, following the Pistorius trial (GUILTY!  It’s an open and shut case!  You can’t just let someone off just because they can run a bit!) or staring with wonder at pixie haired Pammy’s latest nude photos.

Image

My God, she does look extraordinary though doesn’t she?  Good for her, no hater I….

Then before you know it you spot something about her ex husband and father of her kids having a big dick, you go looking for that (good Lord…), then you see he supports PETA, so you go on that site, sign a petition against seal culling, wince at some hideously cruel photos showing mans shameful abuse of animals (what is wrong with people?), look at something more cheerful and before long you have RSI of the right hand (from mouse clicking, not pebble flicking, thank you), a pending migraine and another day of your life has come and gone.

Sometimes I don’t care though.  After all, the lives of others, famous or not, are much more interesting than mine.

I’m still having mad dreams about my past and Auntie C (in lieu of those NHS bastards actually doing something) is trying to make me focus on the present and I feel like a crazy compass needle or sycamore seed, spinning in the wind.

Image

I have to try and get back on track though.

I think the most successful days so far have been when I have stuff organised from the get go.  Real stuff that I can’t bail on, as opposed to vague plans that I can easily shun because no one is looking and no one cares, so I’m going to try and plan more stuff, as early in the day as possible. So I need to start as early aspossible instead of waiting till the cats start bouncing off my uterus demanding their breakfast.

I also seems to get derailed if I’m not feeling well, and in the last few days one of my old war wounds has been playing up.  Rather than ignoring it for fear of spending money, I think I’m going to have to let the moths out of my wallet and go and get treatment.

Also maybe not letting myself eat until I’ve done some yoga might break that particular impasse.

I’m also going to set a timer for 10 minutes every time I go near my PC, and when it goes off, I’ll log out.

I’m also gonna ‘earn’ my TV, the length of viewing dictated by how long I exercise that day.

I’d also better start being more sociable with my friends again so that people do care if I open my door every day, especially if I’m meant to be meeting them.

Up I get again (groan, stagger), but God knows, if I had any other choice, I’d bail in a heartbeat.

So I’ll start yet AGAIN, and i guess I’ll finish eventually….God how I hate this shitty planet.

Namaste x

AWARD FOR LOVE AND KINDNESS – BACK ATCHA!

11 Comments

awardforloveandkindness1

‘I lost my heart, I didn’t know what to do, I was so caught in misunderstanding, and I really felt like poo….’

So much so that when the lovely Faye from Faerie Thoughts nominated me for a Love and Kindness award, I barely noticed and forgot to respond properly. 😦

I’m sorry my lovely, but I didn’t like the world, and when I’m like this I can’t feel much of anything and gratitude is so foreign to me until I come out the other end.

But I’m thanking you now, both for this and for your kindness and support of late.  And that goes for the rest of you, including:

starkinsanity

Jenifer Brown

helen meikle’s scribblefest

April

EightLeggedGemini

navigator1965

steven1111

The Jogging Dad

reocochran

Mr Catgut Dogsbody

My gorgeous menomama3

I know that some of you will be gagging over a bucket at all this cheese and sentimentality, but thanks so much for bothering to read AND comment on my self indulgent, whiney, ‘kill me now’ soliloquies, your support means so much and fortifies me through those long dark nights of the soul like a nice big mug of hot chocolate and Baileys with a sleeping pill chaser 🙂

Big love and virtual hugs to all!

Am I forgiven?

xxx