time travel,alcoholic bruitishness and perceptions.


How can a few minutes in time change the whole way I feel. How does one person’s actions, in a minute or less.

Friend came round for a drink, there were 4 of us, me my friend and husband and another friend. Three women  ,one male, the male drank a lot of alcohol quickly, he was making “jokes” about the 60’s music I was playing, lots of “Doors, deep purple,Kinks,He made comments about suicide, drug taking,sarky nasty comments. Went to the kitchen and returned. It’s about 20 steps from kitchen to living room and back.

Actually, I don’t go round counting steps from room to room, but used to when my mum was having physio, we used to count the steps, each extra step was such a victory and reduction in steps was such painful loss.

My male guest was standing up and gestured to dance ,I thought “what the hell “he then grabbed me so tight and face forward with a fierce  fierce kiss, I  saw his face coming towards  me and couldn’t turn my face or push him away. I felt so violated, I think it felt worse because his wife and my other female friend found it hilarious.

It’s set off feeling I can’t find words to, its set of stuff from a long time ago about strength and power. My room feels violated,its no longer the same sanctuary it was.

Part of me felt it’s just what women have to put up with,my feminist heart is screaming out “NO WAY”.

He was drunk, he won’t remember, does that make it ok or least worst????.

Suddenly feels like I such an unsurmountable distance to travel on this journey of living with my past. I feel as if I am carrying thousands of tons of rocks. I  want to turn them to dust, and settle the dust in different places. A few rocks have turned to dust, I’ve left a little dust in a safe place. Sometimes the rocks get very heavy,sometimes they poke at me with jagged edges,sometimes they feel like they corrode me. Today they do all of this






Feels like a weird week. For a few days have been unable to communicate,sounded like a  very cross “gruffalo”. And that’s when I could get some sound out.

My frustrations took me to tears. H ow do people who cant talk  cope with it. Got me thinking more about powerlessness. Whilst we generally see body language as important WORDS are the necessary and accepted communication.

I have been thinking about my mum when she had her stroke and couldn’t  speak. Thinking about how I saw her being treated so badly in hospital. She wasn’t the exeption, it was horrible normal. If your not able to verbally communicate  so much is cut off from you.

I find it incredible difficult to express the fear I had.


 it was only a cold .It’s made me feel maybe we should all spend a day not speaking and see how you get by.

I guess it feeds into the silence as a child of not being able to tell anyone what was happening to me.

Stating to talk more, about that time with my counsellor, but I am backing off to. Christmas coming up. Dreading the isolation .Seeing people, hearing people making plans for nights out, feeling the exclusion from it.Wondering if there ever going to be a point where I feel included. Not feeling optimistic.

Funerals,food and time travel

Last couple of weeks very testing. I  attended a family funeral, met relations I haven’t seen for a while. Realized how I freeze. You know when you suddenly know something in your heart, even though its been in your head for a while. Sort of concrete block knocking your head, that literal sort of understanding. It actually hurts. Standing at a graveside ,sad at the sadness of the loss of someone’s life,sad at the loss for family and friends, but part of me literally frozen. It was physical and emotional, all over my body, especially my back.

I think I was just starting to accept I haven’t ever mourned my dad, maybe it’s starting NOW.

Feeling so blinking wobbly. Food binging going crazy. I TOLD MYSELF I WASN’T GOING TO BINGE,IT WAS GOING TO BE FINE. My thoughts replied in a blink. The answer from my thoughts was “I will die if I don’t binge”. Where does that come from? A bit over the top. Feeling so so wobbly. Starting to feel fearful of the dark, dark at night time, mornings feel safer.

Walking home from work this evening, my breathing getting heavier and heavier, chest so tight. Such relief to get in the door, back into safety, my own space, no one to have to pretend to. A few stolen moment so peace and the breathing slows, the thoughts of my dad,the intense physical pain of his absence. How can it be so powerful after so so long.

Music has kept the brick walls a little softer and made the dark corners of the Caves I get caught in get a glimmer of soft light. Listening to “Passenger”. its very powerful. Reading is a  bit of a struggle ,I need some inspiration.

What comes next,getting the whispers of a tornado in the distance. CAN I GET THROUGH IT? Not sure.