Just-a-Quote #4... (Hope)

"With every heartbeat there is hope." ~ Kimmie

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Thank you for allowing me to share

God bless you and all those you love 

Kimmie x 

Related post: Still Afraid... and the line's still fine

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Deck the Halls... better late than never.

I'm late posting my Christmas paraphernalia this year. I usually have the halls decked by the 1st of December but (despite making a start early November) I was well into December before finishing. 

Fibromyalgia had me decking the halls with boughs-of-ouchie, and as this is my first Christmas without Dad there wasn't a lot of fa-la-la'ing going on. I'm glad I pushed on with it though, Littlie's eyes are shinning as a child's eyes should be, and me? Well, I love Christmas, and the Merry-and-Bright is doing me the world of good... Fa-la-la-la-la...la-la-la-la :o) 

Christmas is my absolute favorite... I like it a lottle (that's like a little, but a lot). 

I love the lead up to Christmas, I delight in the fairy lights and decorations which fill almost every corner of my home. I love the chaos of Christmas morning... the mess that out does all messes - the pringle-crumb-carpet - the tripping over of the long and short legs sprawled out into the middle of my very small dinning room as I attempt to get to the back door for a quick cigarette break - the 5am stumble along the landing to be greeted by a wide awake Littlie with stocking in hand, shouting "he's been Mummy, he's been!" 

I love it all, and despite the underlying sadness this year I'm really looking forward to Christmas morning with my gorgeous ones. 

Right, that's enough of my rambling... better-late-than-never; our home has been well and truly decked and I'd really love to share it with you all.

My house is a squash-and-a-squeeze and the dinning table's been packed away to make room for the tree so (unless you're a fairy) there's nowhere to sit, but you're all so welcome!  Heating's on, kettle's on, and there's mince pies in the tin... help yourselves.

And now to the Merry-and-Bright... 

My tree... An evening job (more accurately several evenings), on my own with Rod Stewart ringing in my ears... No touching (or tail-wagging) allowed! 

The lounge trees... a joint effort... some touching allowed :o) 

Littlie's tree (in her bedroom), she gets to do what she likes with this one... I like it but wouldn't wanna sleep with it... she loves it :)

The back door... this picture doesn't show the full glory of this area of the house at Christmas time... it's my favorite part of the house when decked... the windows mirror all of the downstairs fairy lights giving the impression that the whole garden is lit up...it's magical!

The old fish tank... which stands in the dinning room for most of the year looking like a heap of, well, old fish tank, and is magically (with the help of 4 rolls of cotton wool and a ton of fake snowflakes) transformed into Littlie's winter-wonderland each Christmas. 

The banisters

Most of my decs are years old... that's what makes them so special... my halls are decked with memories... Christmassy pages of my life...my kid's lives. I do add something to the collection each year though and this gorgeous Nativity is the latest addition. I love it! 

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Thank you all, Dear friends, readers-of-my-rambles for your support this past year...it's been a tough one and I couldn't have got through it without YOU! 

I wish you all a very merry Christmas 

Thank you for allowing me to share 

God bless you and all those you love 

Kimmie x

P.S... 

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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!

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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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Wordless Wednesday 28/10/2015... Such Love!

Kimmie x

Related post... Marie's Voice... the story behind the pic

Blessed within the Shadows

Do you see in me what GOD sees? 

Do you hear what he hears?

He sees so much more than mental illness, 

paranoia, fear.

Can you empathize as GOD does 

with the shadows from my past

If you looked at me with his eyes 

would you see behind the mask.

I know it hurts your feelings 

when I pull from your embrace,

I'm trapped, but always open 

to the sadness on your face.

GOD alone knows the real me, 

locked deep inside this skin

can you understand, as he does 

why I cannot let you in?

Imagine the blackest darkness, 

close your eyes, focus; are you there?

There are demons in the shadows, 

so tread carefully, beware!

I hide here in the darkness 

too afraid to venture out,

Tears frozen on my eyelids, 

suppressed, can’t scream or shout.

Now imagine you're looking through GODS eyes, 

can you see that little light?

It’s tiny in the darkness, do you see it? 

It burns so very bright.   

There’s beauty in that little light, 

such love, kindness, creativity.  

That little glowing pocket 

in the darkness that you see?

That little glowing pocket, 

is Gods 'AMAZING ME'.

©2015kimmie All Rights Reserved  

I’m blessed within the shadows 
by dreams of all that I could be

In hope, I pray, that through ‘AMAZING GRACE’ 

I will one day be free.

Thank you for allowing me to share 

God bless you, and all those you love 

Kimmie x

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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

My Daughter Writes

The following poems were written by my middle daughter. She shared them with me recently, and (with her permission) I'd like to share them with you.

The first was written for me, the second for her Grandad (my Dad), who passed away recently.

Both made me cry!

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Thank you for allowing me to share 

God bless you, and all those you love 

Kimmie x

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 

A love Letter... A Thank you... & some recycling. (a #1000speak post)

I wanted to (tried to) write something new for #1000speak this month, it's a stunning movement, and one I feel incredibly proud to be a part of; but (as some of you already know) my Dad passed away a few weeks ago, and with Fathers Day just around the corner and my head still so full of missing/wanting/needing Dad; I'm finding it hard to think about (or write about) much else.

However, I did find (whilst surfing 'compassion' on the net, hoping for inspiration) a beautiful 'Love Letter to the World, so beautiful, that I thought (rather than cop out altogether this month) I'd share it with you, dear reader...along with a 'Thank you' (I'll get to that in a bit), and a couple of *Compassion I wrote earlier* links... in case you missed them...:o)

'Love Letter to the World' was originally written by Kate Swoboda and is free to download Here

Enjoy :o)

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Before I get on to the recycling... I'd like to take a moment to say a huge, and heartfelt *Thank you* to all the gorgeous souls who supported me through Dads illness (Cancer), and who've continued to support me over the past few weeks since he passed away.

Losing Dad has been the hardest thing (to date) Iv'e ever had to bear, and you (you all know who you are), have been a Godsend...your kindness, friendship and *compassion*.has helped me (is helping me) to muddle through it.

..  

Thank you X

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The Recycling... 

Somebody's Son

{Excerpt}... Across the street, now sleeping 

somebody's son dreams hungers dream

Of Yorkshire pud, fish and chips

and mint choc chip ice-cream

Marie's Voice

{Excerpt}... There were no toys in the pram room for the little girl to play with, no cushions for her to snuggle into when she napped fell into an exhausted (scream worn) sleep - no padding to protect her, when out of fear, abandonment, desperation, she smashed her head against the floor... over and over again!

There were no hearers of responders to her screams, no wipes for her tear stained (often blood stained) cheeks, no cuddles for calm.... no attention, no love ...no compassion.

I sit down next to her, and imagining that she can see me/hear me, as I can her; I say, "It's okay darling... everything's gonna be okay... Compassion is on her way."
"She'll be here soon - she'll be your voice, and one day (though she doesn't yet know it herself) she'll be your mum.
She will fight for you, care for you, love you....and she'll be with you - always."

If you'd like to read the above Compassion posts in full just click on the titles and whoosh, you'll be gone...................................no wait, come back, there's more... ;o)

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This post is my (I've a muddled mind, but my hearts in the right place) contribution to June's '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. 

#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 

P.S Check this one out... not one of my rambles, but definitely worth a read... because, well... *sugar-mousiness*... what's not to like :o) Sometimes the village needs a little sugar

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'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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