we are family

So I've been down in the dumps recently, that's no surprise.  But I'm amazed at the power you can get by turning to those who you often take for granted.  I hate asking for help. Hate it with a passion.  That sinking feeling I get when I know I need to call on someone.  Not for guidance or advice, I hasten to add - but real, physical, can-you-take-time-out-of-your-day kinda help.  I am so blessed to have family and friends that are always there. There has been many a time when I have dwelt on the negative and forgotten about the positive that surrounds me everyday.

Phew! Sounding a bit hippyish there - but you get what I mean.

This month has thrown me into the collective arms of my fabulous family and some hardcore friends. Do you ever think that there is no one, not one person at all who understands what you are going through or what you need? Take a look again at the people that you think can't help you. Despite feeling my lowest in many, many years I have not laughed as much as I have this month, this week, today!

I have taken time this week to remind a friend of a daft joke that had us giggling into our coffees on a Monday morning back at work, no beeyatching mind you -just pure childish silliness.  'Watching' a film whilst hurling questions at the GeordieLad, which he  humourlessly bats away - he can't take me to the cinema anymore apparently. Sharing 'guess what my kid did last week' stories with SuperSis and Brill-S-i-L and laughing about which one will end up on who's doorstop at midnight in the teendom years. And what'sapping the evening away with amazing ladies who know how to make the put downs something I shouldn't put up with. Not to mention the FantasticoDad worried phonecall which sparked another checking-on-you phone call from the World's Best Aunty.

And then there's the 3G. Being away from our natural habitat gave me time to look at them, talk to them, and hug them properly. Without the work or bedtime clock ticking. We hung out this week and I remembered how much I love them. Look I think everyday how much I adore the girlie-wirlies, but I took a moment out to just think about that. It is something I don't do often enough and it's easy to take them for granted.

I have supersonic beings in my life. I just forgot to take a look around me and remind myself that for every dissenting voice, there are more than double lifting me up.

Much Love.

Goodnight London, wherever you are.

Everybody hurts

Days like these are becoming too regular lately. My morning is by the mother of all clouds. I get through the day on a crutch of a smile, so that Geordie Lad and the 3G are none the wiser. By nightfall I no longer have the strength to resist; I allow the mist to settle and it feels like someone is kicking me down a bottomless pit.

I had thought about writing in depth about what it's like; to give some insight to those who see me through the dark days. However after a long, warm shower, the crewof5 asleep (well except me, obviously, but settled in bed so near enough!), and 3 hours of catch up iplayer I am resurfacing and feel that a lighter approach is called for.

And this is the thing, this is how my days, months, years, decades go. Not to the dizzying heights or hellish holes of my twenties, but still - it's all or nothing most of the time. It's exhausting you know, and not just for me I'm sure.

I know there are people in my life who just don't get me when I'm like I'm am, there are people in my life who don't know I am like I am, and there are people who accept the me I am. I belong in the first category. I refuse to accept it is okay to be like this, I get that it's natural and can't be helped, but why must it continue. I look around me and mine and we're okay; so why the misery, the insecurity, the self-damnation. I want to do and see and live so much, yet it feels like I have stone shoes on - co-ordinated with concrete coat and hard hat. I'm convinced there is a parallel me out there with a super smile and living my earthly me's dreams. 

So what gets me out of the hole? (I have just read a fantastic and insightful blog and learnt that this can also be referred to as the black dog) Music on the very bad days. I can barely move on these days but within 5 minutes of some good tunes, I am dancing like it's 1999 - literally, I was 28 then and a mover on the dancefloor!  Most of the time, my 3G and Geordie Lad see me right. Then there is my cushion of womenfolk. Some I see often, some when needed, and some not nearly enough, and one is missing...but that's for another day.

Goodnight London, wherever you are.