Symptoms of Fibromyalgia... (My experience)

It's been a while since I posted anything more than the odd quote/poem. It's been a tough few months here, on top of (as many of you already know) an incredibly tough Two-ish years. 

For weeks now I've been in one of my (just-coming-out-of-still-subject-to-change) withdrawal phases. 

I've struggled to connect, online or off, and on top of that, (frustratingly), for a variety of reasons, (not least symptoms of FIBRO-BLOOMING-MYALGIA), I've struggled to write, (other than in my journals). 

On that note, Dear reader, you may notice that the following post contains large chunks of  'oi-Kimmie-you-said-that-already', with some fresh-ramble thrown in... because you're worth it ;o)

THE FATIGUE

Actually, fatigue doesn't cover *This Tired*, I'm not sure there is any stand alone word that does! o_O 

Having suffered mental illness for years (including, depression, OCD, anxiety, and an Eating disorder) I'm no stranger to fatigue, but *This Tired*, Oh my! never-have-I-ever experienced *This Tired* before! 

No amount of sleep eases 'This Tired', it is extreme, overwhelming, relentless....it knocks me off of my feet, muddles my brain, limits my ability to 'do', and forces me to rest after even the shortest periods of 'doing'. 

'This Tired' has been getting progressively worse over the past few years, and has been a constant for the past year (or so) - and when I say constant, I mean constant, every second, of every minute, of every day... Every. Single. Day!

There was a time, not so long ago really, that I could have painted a room, tidied/cleaned house, garden, kids (and self) in a day... these days I'm lucky if I get through a shower without collapsing. 

I drag myself up in the mornings feeling like I've been hit by a dumper truck (even if I've slept all night) and spend the rest of the day (when I'm not napping) doing very little - and 'very little' is mind-blowingly exhausting! 

I've always had a high pain threshold (with the exception of headaches, which I HATE!), and though I detest the walking stick that I now need to get around outdoors, and often grumble-grouch-ouch, (swear-a-bit),  pain alone wouldn't usually stop me from getting things done. 

Fatigue is BY FAR my major complaint, because it (often) makes it IMPOSSIBLE to carry on, If I had to chose, and could only cure one or the other, pain or fatigue... I'd drop the fatigue in a heartbeat. 

There have been a few severe (excruciating) pain episodes that have prevented walking for a while, but I could still read, write, enjoy social media, take in a T.V program; if only I wasn't... So. Damn. Tired! 

Pain gets me down, there's no denying that, but it doesn't knock me out, it doesn't suck the life out of me, it doesn't prevent me from living. Fatigue does that. 

I could go on with the fatigue issue (I have more words!) but I'd rather you didn't hit the 'bugger-this-I'm-off-button' (assuming you haven't already) so I'll move on.

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THE PAIN(s)... There's a list o_O

Pickaxe to the head: I'm not kidding, well actually, I am.... but MY GOD, if anyone should ever take a pickaxe to my head, I reckon I'd know what'd hit me!  

This can happen at anytime, sometimes more than once a day. It stops me in my tracks, and is (thank God it doesn't last long each time - seconds usually) excruciating!

Knife through the shoulder blade: Clearly, I'm dramatizing again, I've never (literally) been stabbed in the back, but there really is no other way to describe it. Knife pain lasts a lot longer than pickaxe pain, and transmits a heavy-achy feeling down my arm and into my hand, causing partial numbness in the process. 

Alternative shoulder pain: This one is bothersome (because it disturbs sleep) it's painful, intensely so at times (though more heavy/achy/bruised than stabbing) and occurs under pressure....by pressure I mean laying on it/leaning on it.

Chest Pain: I sometimes get a sharp, severe, stabbing pain in my chest just above my left breast, or, in the center of my chest. The pain often radiates through to my neck and/or shoulder, it hurts more when I breath in, and when point of pain is touched (on instinct) it's exacerbated. This one frightens the life out of me (exacerbated by OCD thoughts) - *is it my lungs? is it lung cancer? Am I having a heart attack?* ... You get the picture. 

Bone Pain (deep): (periodic) Specifically knees/hips - when I say deep I'm attempting to describe (in short) an excruciating pain that would be better described as 'cork screwing' or 'boring' the bone - It hurts... a lot! o_O 

Itchy-Twitchy-PAINFUL Nerves: Oh. My. God! How do I even begin to describe this one. 

Have you ever had a trapped nerve, dear reader? Well, The pain's a lot like that, except it affects multiple nerves, wide spread, at the same time.  It brings a whole new meaning to the phrase "It's getting on my last nerve"!

As for the itch... It's sort of on the outside, but really on the inside. It moves around, runs away when you try and scratch it. Have you ever scratched an itch in your armpit to discover (but not before scratching at least 10 other body parts first) that the itch is actually in your foot... Well, it's a lot like that o_O

THE RANDOMS.

Facial/head numbness: This one's weird, and can hit at anytime (though not every day) - not only do I experience numbness in my face and/or head, but it's accompanied (or followed by) a strange internal trickling sensation, almost like cold running water, underneath the skin. It's extremely disconcerting.

Pick & choose hands; I told you my symptoms were random! What I mean by this is - my hands (more often than not the right hand) can be working perfectly well one minute, and be practically useless (powerless) the next. 

Generally there is very little pain involved, but it is incredibly frustrating when I attempt to pick something up and... 'hand says no'. 

Muddling words (forgetting words) OFTEN!: I've always been an outstanding read-out-louder (blows own trumpet) but really, I have; in fact at school (more often than not) I would be the 'chosen one' if any reading out loud was going on. 

Now however, I'm noticing more and more; whilst reading to my daughter, that I'm either muddling the beginning/end of words, stuttering, reading words the wrong way round, or (most worryingly) reading words that are not even on the page. 

It's almost as if my brain and mouth are in no way connected. To give a for instance - When (at time of writing) I read this paragraph aloud, I read the word 'words' as 'swords' o_O

Similarly, I'm Having trouble writing/typing words correctly - specifically, I'm writing letters in the wrong order, or missing words out of sentences altogether.  

Even tweets require an edit before posting these days - and Iv'e lost count of the mistakes I've had to correct while writing this post (FYI - I originally wrote dyas in the line above, as apposed to days, and then corrected) o_O

These issues, coupled with my referring to the kettle (to give just one for instance) as "Oh, (tut) you know, the black thingy that boils water" is enough to drive me (and the rest of the family) insane! 

Makes no sense - Literally! 

These days (some days) it's a miracle if I can remember my own name, let alone where I am in a task/activity/conversation. It's like, I know all of the pieces of the puzzle are there, but I'll be damned if I can find the next piece.

Dizzyness/feeling faint: Especially when fatigue is at it's worst. 

Recently this symptom has become quite debilitating, and has prompted me to visit the GP to confirm (by way of other investigations) that these frequent (almost daily) attacks are indeed nothing more than ANOTHER fibro issue.  

Lead Legs: Heavy, achy (sometimes numb-ish) legs; that have to be willed on when walking, and often make me feel nauseous when resting - it's not a nice feeling, nor is it one I can easily describe... except perhaps to say that; when it occurs, I can feel my legs, (including pain) but they're not quite with it, or with me... Does that make sense? - Well anyway, if there is such a thing as 'lead legs', I have them. 

Itchy/painful ears: Oh how I hate this one. During the day my ears are more itchy than ouchy, but at night the pain is frequently unbearable. 

For months now my ears have objected to being caught between my head and the pillow, and will often wake me up (screamingly) to let me know how pissed off they are. 

Once they've woken me, they refuse to allow me to lift my head without first sliding my hand between them and the pillow, and keeping said hand firmly over the offending a***hole ear hole until I've (carefully, because it really bloody hurts) lifted myself up into a sitting position. 

Drunk walking (minus the drinking): Probably explains itself this one.. but in short - I (often, not always) find I can't walk in a straight line. I've lost count of the amount of times I'm walking down the street beside hubs one minute and under his feet the next. The annoying thing is, I can feel myself suddenly veer off to the left, but there's bugger all I can do about it.  

Finally, and briefly, cause it's taken me days to knock this lot out, (despite the Oi-Kimmie-you-said-that-already chunks) and 'This Tired' is killing me! 

Palpitations - Twitches - numbness: Hands/feet/toes/hips/bum; anywhere's possible. Balance issues. Dreams (more than usual). Sleep issues: can't sleep, or, can do nothing but sleep - no sleep is enough sleep - there is no relief from 'This Tired'!

Linking up for the Chronic-Friday-Linkup with Being Fibro Mum

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Thank you for allowing me to share 

God bless you, and all those you love 

Kimmie x 

Please Note: The above symptoms list is based solely on my own experiences. This post should not be deemed as advice or counsel... or referred to for self-diagnose. Please seek proper medical advice if you (or someone close to you) are experiencing similar symptoms.

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STILL afraid... and the Line's STILL fine!

I originally wrote the following piece in 2013... I'm sharing it again today, edited only marginally, because almost 3 years on there is STILL no change for the better... Government are STILL ignoring campaigners... Disabled people (those who have survived the sustained attacks) are STILL afraid!

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Writing about my life with mental illness really helps me, it’s cathartic to write my thoughts down.

I made the decision to share my muddled mind through this blog because I felt that sharing my experiences might help other sufferers (and me) feel less isolated.

I hope that by my ‘telling it how it is’ someone somewhere will find some relief in reading. 

Having said that I do worry (a lot!) that being too honest about some of my mental health symptoms may do more harm than good and it’s for that reason I’m going to suggest that if you're feeling particularly vulnerable at the moment you don’t read any further into this post... 

A FINE LINE

In recent years I’ve had various conversations with friends (some via social media, some face to face) who report an increase in self-harm, and/or suicidal-thoughts... and I've lost count of how many articles of same/similar I've read on line. 

One lady (heartbreakingly) confided that she is mentally making plans to re-home her pets because she feels suicidal and is concerned that she might act on these feelings, leaving her pets uncared for.  

Many of the people I've spoken to have complex mental health issues (some have physical disabilities too),  and they have told me that their increase (or onset) of self-harming behaviours/thoughts, and/or suicidal thoughts are directly related to fear of Government, DWP, and current or anticipated WCA (Work capability assessment).

Of course, I know from personal experience that paranoid fear, irrational thoughts and an inability to cope with change often go hand in hand with mental illness, however, given the relentless cuts to disability welfare and services, the Government/media propaganda, and the treatment that so many have endured at DWP assessments interrogations, it’s hardly surprising that so many sick/disabled people feel incredibly anxious at the moment.

People are desperately afraid, overwhelmed with fear. Many are deeply affected by right wing ‘scrounger’ propaganda and incredibly worried about their future. 

They’re terrified by even the idea of having to expose themselves (face to face) at a ten minute (tick box) assessment (to a complete stranger) who is unlikely to be qualified to assess mental illness and even less likely to empathise. They are also despairingly aware that even if they are lucky enough to qualify for benefit it won't be long before the process begins again!  

Many are self-harming, some feel suicide may be a better option than continuing to battle both debilitating illness and the ‘powers that be’.

Some are far sicker now under a system that (in many cases) claims they are fit for work than they were under the previous system which recognised that they were NOT and supported them accordingly.

Am I afraid? (May 2013) Yes I’m afraid, very afraid! 

(Nov 2015)... Still afraid...and the line's still fine.

Has my own tendency to self-harm increased as a direct result of the coalition’s attitude towards disabled people?

Yes!  Though I’m ashamed to admit it, it has.

Do I want to continue living with this daily, nightly, debilitating fear?

NO! Oh God no!  

I can’t see an end to it, the future is scary, and my own symptoms of mental (and physical) illness have been greatly exacerbated.

Do I ever wonder if my husband, family, (The State) would do better without the-burden-of-me? 

Sometimes.

Do I feel suicidal? - Do I wish I were dead?

Those of you who know me either through contact or through my writing will already know the answer to this question! You’ll know that I am and always have been terrified of death. You will have read here >> Scared to shut my eyes! about my overwhelming fear of death as a child, you’ll know how terrifying my intrusive thoughts are and how often they relate to death.

NO - I don’t feel suicidal, I have NEVER felt suicidal no matter how much life, other people (or my own mind) has thrown at me.  No, I don't wish I were dead.

I  don’t wish I were dead now, and I didn’t in 1986 when life, other people (and my own chaotic mind) caused me to suffer a complete mental breakdown and I attempted to take my own life...

I don’t remember how I got to my bedroom that evening with a full bottle of ‘paracetamol’ and a pint glass of water. I don’t remember planning or contemplating suicide or for one single moment wishing I was dead.

I don’t remember thinking about my 8 month old baby or wondering how he would cope without me.

I don’t remember feeling suicidal, I don’t remember wanting to die.

I DO vaguely remember taking the pills.

There was no lining up of tablets like you see on TV, no thoughts, no fear, no emotion, no tears... there was *nothingness*.

I tipped the pills from bottle to mouth (how I swallowed so many at once is beyond me) and washed each mouthful down with water until there were no more pills to take.

There are some blurry (vague) memories after that, my first husband slapping me very hard (this confused me) – baby crying - arriving at hospital in an ambulance – a black tarry substance  - gagging on a tube - a drip – a white ceiling through a strange tunnel vision, then blank again.  Days of nothing, no thoughts, no emotion... *nothingness*!

I have never ‘contemplated’ suicide, BUT in ‘1986’ (20  years old, without so much as a passing thought for the first of my five children) I very nearly succeeded in taking my own life!

***

I had a point when I started writing today and I’m not sure if I’ve succeeded in making it, so briefly... 

For many mentally ill (and indeed, physically ill) people there is a very fine line between incredible strength, and *can’t take anymore*.  

I am deeply concerned that the UK Governments relentless cuts and cruel propaganda are pushing so many vulnerable people worryingly close to... *can’t take anymore*. 

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POSITIVE THOUGHT

I'm now almost 30 years on, I'm still here, I cannot stress enough how thankful I am for that!

How thankful I'll feel this evening when my fifth child (my baby) rolls in from school and throws her smiley-gorgeous-self into my arms.

How thankful I am to be here when my older-no-longer-at-home-kids turn up needing Mum.

How Thankful-thrilled-bubbly-excited I will be in 7ish months time when I hold my first Grandbaby.

Life is tough at the moment, it has been to varying degrees for as long as I can remember but I feel incredibly blessed to be here.

If you're feeling vulnerable/at risk at the moment, dear reader, please, talk to someone...confide in someone you trust... a family member, friend (IRL or on line), a medical professional, support worker or carer.

***

Thank you, as always, for allowing me to share

God bless you and all those you love

Kimmie x

Before you go, can I ask that you consider signing the *NEW* #WOWpetition... in support of the UK's chronically sick & disabled people.

You'll find more details about the WOW-campaign HERE

The petition (should you wish to sign it) is HERE

You can follow/support the WOW-campaign on twitter HERE

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Prayer for Refugees... (a #1000speak post)

Father, God, 

Please help the world's refugees.

All who's lives have been torn apart by conflict, 

forced to leave their homes, loved ones, countries. 

Protect those who are journeying now 

heal those who are safe, but still traumatized 

Soften the 'hard hearts' - comfort the broken 

Send hope for the hopeless.

Let all who can do something to help... do it

all who have something to give... give it

all who seek a safe place to live... find it. 

All who can do nothing but pray... pray.

That all who suffer be given strength; to persevere, to hold on to hope. 

That they be accommodated, comforted, cared for. 

These people, they're aching... physically, emotionally, spiritually 

Their pain must be unbearable, beyond comprehension

Mothers, Fathers, children, babies 

Hungry, hurting, homeless... afraid. 

Human beings... some dead, some dying

and those who survive the journey... 

thrown from a sea of hope into an unfamiliar (largely unwelcoming) world 

Washed up, weary worn... stranded. 

Help them, Lord... please help them 

Amen. 

***

Thank you for allowing me to share 

God bless you, and all those you love 

Kimmie x 

I'm adding this post to this months #1000speak linky on the 20th of October... to find out more about 1000 speak, click here.

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Art for Anxiety, Finding the Self, and Finding each Other. A guest post, by Amy Oestreicher.

I love creating inchie art, and in dire medical circumstances, this was the best way to express my uneasiness in the midst of uncertainty. Each individual inchie expressed a fear, worry or concern I had about my future. I called this "Can't Distract" because I was unable to take my thoughts away from this anxiety. Rather than deny these thoughts, I made art from them. Suddenly they became less scary. 

Art Therapy for Finding the Self - I am Myself - Art and Mental Health. 

Originally Published in Dropping Keys

The pieces I have the most fun creating are the ones that I have no expectations for. This started by some random shredding and gluing of newspapers, magazines, coupons, plastic, wrap, gum papers, and whatever else I was about to throw out. Then, I spent hours just painting layers and layers of paint, trying to obscure some of the printed text. Eventually, this face emerged. For me, this symbolized the process of finding myself - hard to find at first, but with each layer, applied tediously and determinedly with meticulousness and great care, my face eventually surfaced. 

Art Therapy for Finding Each Other 

I created this for my mother at a time when it was hard for us to have hope. For me, yoga is centering for my body, and the poses are very grounding. I painted us both in the tree asana with the quote, "If we stand like trees, we can weather the storm". 

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Amy Oestreicher is a 28 year old actress, musician, teacher, composer, dancer, writer, artist, yogi, foodie, and general lover of life. Surviving and thriving through a coma, 27 surgeries and other trauma has inspired Amy to share her story with the world through her passionate desire to create and help others. Piecing her life together after her initial dreams of performing musical theatre took on a beautiful detour into broader horizons. Amy has written, directed and starred ia a one woman musical about her life, Gutless and Grateful, has flourished as a mixed media and acrylic artist, with her art in multiple galleries and mounting dozens of solo art shows, and continues to share her story through her art, music, theatre and writings. 

More information on her unique story, as well as her creative ventures can be found at amyoes.com, visit her blog for her newest art, music and INSPIRATIONAL musings. 

You can also visit Amy's Etsy shop HERE, and learn more about her show HERE 

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My thanks to Amy, for being my guest today, and as always, Thank YOU dear reader, for allowing me to share. 

God bless you and all those you love. 

Kimmie x 

Oooh, wait, I almost forgot... The poem! - Amy's beautiful, breathtaking, MUST READ, poem :) 

If (like me) you're a lover of poetry, you're gonna love this!... It's a long one, so I'll just give you a teaser here. Click on the 'read more' text under the excerpt if you want to read the poem in full. (I hope you do, it's one of the most beautiful poems I've ever read!) 

INTRUSION ~ By Amy Oestreicher. 

Whether I am the trespasser, alien 

The outcast, the tortoise turned on it's side 

I can see the stream from here 

and I long to dance with the source 

Can I fish for you, blue glimpse? 

A glimpse of the word as it was intended to be 

The realism thrills me 

In a world of perfect 

geometric-shapes, painted signs, bright-red-automobiles 

my hollow shell over flows with relief  

READ MORE 

Copyright©2015AmyOestreicher

Poem... That Cam-I-Am

That ‘Cam-I-am’ 

That ‘Cam-I-am’ 

I do not like that ‘Cam-I-am’

I do not like him here or there  

I do not like him anywhere

I do not like him on my telly

smoke-screen grin... state funded belly

I do not like him in my head

invading dreams when I'm in bed

I do not like his policies

his attitude to those in need

I do not like his spare room charge

homes (he says), are far too large

while he and his, and them and theirs

homes (state funded), rooms to spare

looking down on me and mine

and you and yours, and yours and theirs!

You homeless poor man....? 

'Cam' don’t care!

That ‘Cam-I-am' 

That ‘Cam-I-am’ 

I do not like that ‘Cam-I-am

Not in my head, not here or there

I do not like him anywhere

I do not like his common(s) trough

piggy chums, (state funded) scoff

I do not like his welfare war

feed the rich, starve the poor

His food-bank-Britain... Eton mess

Cameron - Osborne - IDS

“Scrounger, skiver,  feckless slob”

“sick, disabled? - GET A JOB!” 

PIP PIP (pardon the pun), state funded wine

looking down on me and mine

and you and yours, and yours and theirs

You hungry poor man...?

'Cam' don’t care!

That ‘Cam-I-am’ 

That ‘Cam-I-am’ 

I do not like that 'Cam-I-am'. 

Copyright©2015kimmie All Rights Reserved

Thank you for allowing me to share 

God bless you, and all those you love 

Kimmie x 

***

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The WOWcampaign today launches a new e-petition!

The WOWcampaign today launches a new e-petition to remind the Government that they have failed to honour the parliamentary motion in support of the WOWpetition. 

You can sign WOWpetition here

Today the WOWcampaign launches a new petition on the Government ...
e-petition website, e-petition 106068¹. It calls for the Government to “Assess full impact of all cuts to support & social care for disabled people”. The WOWcampaign have taken this action 18 months after the original “WOWpetition” was debated in the House of Commons because little has happened since, save for sick and disabled people being targeted by further cuts.

Continue reading here

Hope For Jenny. #HomeForJenny

My friend, Lizzi (who is a beautiful bean) is trying to help her friend, Jenny (who is, by all accounts, also a beautiful bean). Jenny is homeless, but (Thanks to Lizzi) not hopeless! 

I'm not going to tell the story... it's not my story to tell, but I'd love for you to read Lizzi's account, (below), because, (I believe...from what I know of you via Twitter, & the blog), many of you are likely to be as moved by Jenny's strength, (and Lizzi's heart) as I have been. 

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OVER TO LIZZI

My Lovelies, if you’ve been around here for more than the odd occasion lately, you’ll know all about Jenny; the amazing lady I met a few weeks ago when I took post-hotel-conference food to distribute to the homeless people in the city centre (I’m not an angel – food waste is anathema to me when there are people going hungry, and I couldn’t bear it to be thrown away rather than shared, with just a tiny bit of effort on my part). Well, I have AMAZING news about her, but also need your help. 

If you’ve followed our story, you’ll know that I offered to help, however I could, if it was possible, because she got under my skin and became part of my Village, and she matters to me. I visit each day and bring her tea, because that’s what she said would make life better for her (except not right now because I’m laid up at home with shingles (and if this post wanders, I apologise now – I’m on some heavy-duty pain meds) and I miss her lots) and she has opened my eyes to an entirely different world.

A harsh world. REALLY harsh. 

Continue reading... HERE 

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Lizzi Rogers is co-founder of the #1000speak (1000 voices for Compassion) movement...inspired by An article she wrote in January 2015 , she has a heart of gold. 

You can connect with Lizzi on Twitter (if you'd like to) HERE

You can read more about Jenny HERE...meet Jenny 

Excerpt... "But I want you to see her. And Gabriel. In their ‘home’ – an alcove of the 13th Century Old Walls in my city. A ‘home’ with a brick back and a cardboard front, and no…well…no anything, except what they can beg, borrow, adapt or scrounge. A ‘home’ which when Gabriel has convulsions because of a suspected brain injury, he can fall through the box wall into the public car-park which the old wall is a border of. A home with a scavenged toddler’s pushchair as an extra seat. A ‘home’ where Jenny has made a purple craft-paper window, cut into four, and stuck it in between the box/cupboard/bricks which make up the front, because sometimes even a homeless person wants to be able to look out of the window."

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Thank you for allowing me to share 

God bless you, and all those you love 

Kimmie x 

Of Windmills and Woes

If we were having coffee, I'd be playing 'hide n chat' this week... blabbing (nervously) about your drink preference, how your weeks been, how long the kettle's taking to boil... windmills - I like windmills I do, lets talk about windmills, do you like windmills, come see my windmills.

Every silence would get a babble, an anxious, smiley, bubbly babble... and I'd be wishing you'd talk about you.

I'd drag you outside to see ALL the windmills, babbling the old, the sentimental, and the new... you'd be wishing by now you'd gone to star bucks...alone!

If we were having coffee, I wouldn't tell you how incredibly tough (special needs) parenting has been this week...

I wouldn't tell you how many times 'Littlie' has morphed from 'absolute Joy' into 'absolute nightmare', on a day to day (often hour to hour) basis, and how mind blowingly difficult it's been not reacting to her meltdowns with a few (there's only so much I can take) meltdowns of my own... how tough it's been keeping the 'me' that's not 'Mummy' in check.

Littlie has more than enough to deal with, none of it her fault, the last thing she needs, is the me that's not 'Mummy'... especially in response to the 'She' she can't help.

{Littlie (you may already know) is 9 years old, and was born with a chromosome disorder (Prader Willi Syndrome), which affects her both physically and mentally. She has global developmental delay, hypermobility, OCD,  and Tourettes (amongst other issues) ...I won't bore you the symptoms, the list is seemingly endless.}

If we were having coffee, I might explain her disability (if you asked), I'd even touch on how challenged/challenging she can be... but mostly, I'd tell you how funny she can be, how engaging, and affectionate she can be, what a wonderful character she is...how far she's come, how hard she tries... and how much I love her!

I couldn't love her more if I tried!

If we were having coffee, I wouldn't tell you how debilitating my own disabilities (fibromyalgia & mental illness, exacerbated by grief) have been this week... how hard it's been to think positive, speak positive, do positive...because no one likes negative, right?

I wouldn't tell you how confusing it is, to be Mum, to be wife, to be friend; just to be... in a world that chugs on...so quickly, pulling me (inwardly screaming) along with it.

If we were having coffee, I wouldn't ask you for a hug, despite needing one, desperately... because, in a hug I'd blub, lose control, spill 'ALL the things', scary things, big things; too big to blab things... I can't do that, no, I can't do that.

I prefer hugging to hugged.

If you needed a hug - if you were upset?... Oh, I could do that, yes, I could do that... I can always do that.

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If we were having coffee, and I had added my woes to my windmills, you might not believe me anyway; because I'd be wearing a smile, long sleeves, and a face full of make up - chatting about windmills, 'absolute joy', and you...

...because, it's easier (and fairer) to share 'absolute joy' than it is to share 'absolute nightmare' - easier to play 'hide n chat' than it is to play 'chat the crap' - safer to talk windmills than it is to talk woes!

Oh, and because I'd quite like you to come again... :)

If we were having coffee, I'd ask how you were, and wonder, does your "I'm okay" mimic mine!
Do you play the game too? are you playing it now? Filling silence with babble... sunshiny, smiley, bubbly babble... wishing I'd talk about me.

****

Thank you for allowing me to share

God bless you and all those you love

Kimmie x

P.S... Littlie is currently presenting (at time of kettle boiling)... as 'absolute joy'... long may it last :)

P.P.S... I'm adding this post to the Weekend Coffee Share, linky/bloghop... the brain child of 'Part Time Monster'. You can read other Coffee Shares, and/or add your own ((HERE))

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Related posts...

It's your Birthday and I'll cry if I want to. 

You know where the kettle is #WeekendCoffeeShare

Shame on Me ........ #MicroPoetry

Thank you for allowing me to share

God bless you and all those you love

kimmie xxxx

'Somebody's Son' (Nurturing in passing) #1000speak

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SOMEBODY'S SON

Snow falls, blanketing the Town 

Somebody's son is cold 

his hands are froze to biting 

his body (though not) feels old.

Sat upon a cardboard sheet 

Somebody's son, alone 

Huddled against a letter box

gloves wet from shifting snow

Across the street a chip shop

full of faces, bright, but one

Sad face's heart is breaking 

because she, is somebody's mum. 

As she watches through the window 

somebody's son lays down to sleep

his head on stone cold concrete 

body curled on cardboard sheet 

As she turns to place her order

Somebody's mother wipes her eye

and offers up a silent prayer

'Lord, Please don't let him die'

Across the street, now sleeping 

somebody's son dreams hungers dream

Of Yorkshire pud, fish and chips

and mint choc chip ice-cream

He doesn't hear her snowy tread 

or the "here son" she does tell 

It's to dreams come true he comes around

awakened by the smell. 

Ten doors up, hugging 'Chippy tea'

a mother's eyes stream

Because somebody's son is smiling

whilst unwrapping hungers dream 

Somebody's mother, one portion down 

turns away, heads off home

Where waiting, no doubt hungry 

are two sons of her own.

Copyright©2015kimmie All Rights Reserved

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This post is my contribution to Aprils 'One Thousand Voices for compassion' movement - a monthly event to promote and encourage good in the world.

On the 20th of each month bloggers and video-makers from all over the world come together to speak for compassion, in the hope of making a difference. 

Each month there is a new topic (This months focus is NURTURING) alongside the broader topic of compassion.

#1000speak is a beautiful movement and one I'm proud to be a part of.  :o)

"Let ourselves care about strangers, act on behalf of those who are helpless, and encourage everyone we know to do the same." ~ Lizzi Rogers

There are so many #1000speak contributions, from bloggers all over the World.... I encourage you to check them out if you get a chance, I'm sure you'll find some that resonate with you. 

You can do that by following @1000speak on Twitter or by checking out the '1000 Voices for Compassion' Face book page Here

#1000SPEAK FOR COMPASSION 

Speaking for GOOD on the 20th of every month

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Thank you as always for allowing me to share 

God bless you, and all those you love 

Kimmie x

You may also like: Marie's Voice #1000speak

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