Follow @stuckinscared Stuck In Scared: relationship
Showing posts with label relationship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label relationship. Show all posts

Monday, 14 December 2015

Is Nothing Sacred Anymore.

Is nothing Sacred anymore. poem. poetry. @stuckinscared mentalillnessgodandme.blogspot.co.uk

Is nothing sacred anymore. poem. poetry. mentalillnessgodandme.blogspot.co.uk

With all of my heart 
and all that I am 
I loved you... love you still
More than any other 
ever before 
I trusted you
Is nothing sacred anymore!

***

Thank you for allowing me to share

God bless you and all those you love 

Kimmie x 

Related post: Where I once saw Special 
Quote. "If you love her, love her all, every broken piece of her, and don't hurt her" @stuckinscared mentalillnessgodandme.blogspot.co.uk


Tuesday, 27 October 2015

All Finished Now.

You're bad, do you hear me; BAD BAD BAD
Look at me
I SAID LOOK AT ME!
God, you make me so mad.

Get up those stairs
get out of my sight
You're bad, do you hear me
you wont eat tonight

For goodness sake child
what’s wrong with you
Why must you wind me up like you do
If I say quiet - I mean QUIET
why can't you see
Just do as you're told, child
LISTEN TO ME!...

***

Shhh... shhh-shhh 

 Come on now, good girl 
Mummy's sorry
Shhh now
no more tears
Mummy's sorry-Mummy's sorry

That's it, that's it baby
there-there 
all better
no harm done
All finished now 
all finished
Mummy loves you
Mummy loves you
Mummy loves you
Mummy loves you

poem. poetry. excerpt via stuck in scared

***

Thank you for allowing me to share 

God bless you, and all those you love 

Kimmie x


Thursday, 8 October 2015

A few of my poems (for National Poetry Day)

ON MENTAL ILLNESS...


Feigning Control. mental health. mental illness. poetry. Micro poetry.

Cloaked in Sunny. poetry. Mental health. Mental Illness.


ON SPECIAL NEEDS... 
This Child. Special Needs. Poem

MATTERS OF THE HEART...
Forget me not. Poem. Poetry. Micro Poetry. National Poetry Day.

Whispers of Longing. Poetry. Micro Poetry.

Say it slow. Poetry. Micro Poetry.

Poem. Micro Poetry. 'Stitches'

GRIEF... 
How can you be Gone, Dad

The future is Dadless, I'm not ready for that. ... Grief.

CHILDHOOD MEMORIES... 
From the inside. A few of my poems (for National Poetry Day.)

Echoes in the dark. A few of my poems for National poetry Day.

Thank you for allowing me to share 

God bless you, and all those you love 

Kimmie x
Creative Writing. Poetry. A few of my poems (for National Poetry Day)



Friday, 25 September 2015

If I Could...

Iv'e been tagged by the lovely Laura, who blogs at My Life as a Mummy to take part in the 'If I Could' tag. Thanks Laura.

The idea is to answer the preset questions, daydreams allowed, and then tag other bloggers to take part (If they want to).

So here goes...
Imagine a Town where no one goes hungry...
If I could live anywhere... Oh I'm so glad day dreams are allowed... If I could live anywhere, (anywhere, any time, any dream) I would choose 'Walnut Grove'... Except I'd have Pa build me a proper oven, cause I'm buggered if I could bake like Ma bakes in a tiny little hole to the side of the fire place. Oh, and I'd be needing an inside loo... how Ma manages to poo in that tiny little outhouse in THAT skirt, is beyond me.

A little house on the Prairie...where all the skies are blue (In my dreams they're always blue). Where all the people (with the exception of Mrs & Nelly Olsen) are kind and compassionate, peace loving, neighbourly.

Imagine washing in the creak, watching Pa (preferably topless, Pa should always be topless!) working the fields. walking through fields to get the kids to school. Kids that skip, and tag, and ring-a-rose.
Imagine a town where no one goes hungry, because as poor as they are they can always, always, stretch the stew to one more!

I do :)

If I could have any home ...This is a tough one because I love the house I'm in now, it's been home for a long time, I've always felt safe here, it's familiar, it's beautiful... it's home!
The trouble is, it's not my house, and as our Landlord has spent the past year attempting to sell it from under us (though currently it's off the market temporarily until neighbouring building work is completed) it's no longer safe! .

On that note, if I could have any home other than my current one (or 'The Little House on the Prairie')... it would be secure, safe, preferably owned.
It would have disability adaptions, (including wheelchair access) for Littlie... and a private, south facing garden, with a pretty little shabby-chic Lady-shed, to write in.
Actually, while I'm still day dreaming... I wouldn't mind one of those DIY-SOS jobbies...not least because then I'd get to meet Little-Leci-Billy- ;o)

If I could have any garden... That's easy...the garden I have now. I'd love to pick it all up, worms and all, and take it with me. As it is, since every plant in the garden attached to the-house-that's-not-mine was payed for and planted by me, I will be digging up anything remotely dig-up-able, and taking it with me.

If I could have any garden... That's easy...the garden I have now.

If I could be on holiday right now... The reality is, fear prevents me from flying, it also prevents me from travelling (other than locally) in a car, and even if I could travel my budget wouldn't stretch to a holiday.

The dream is, Spain... I went to Spain (Marbella), for a week when I was eighteen, and would love to revisit.
Actually, I say a week... I fell in love with a gorgeous Spaniard and stayed put. Three months later I (and my broken heart) came home... Turned out Gorgeous-Spaniard wasn't mine to love, he had a wife and child in Lanzarote!

Despite the heartache (not to mention the shame), I still have such beautiful, and incredibly vivid memories of the places I visited, and the things I experienced whilst there.
Oh, how I'd love to walk those streets again - paddle those seas again - visit those cafes again - dunk those doughnuts again... "Un chocolate con churros por favor" :)

If I could have any job... Illness prevents me from working these days, but if I could work I'd go back to what I used to do before (and after, once they were old enough) I had children... caring for the elderly.
When I was a teenager my best friends Mum owned, lived in, and ran a home for the elderly, my friend and I worked Weekends as teenagers and went on to work there full time after leaving school, and then periodically after we both married and had children.
I loved every single minute of it... I'll never forget my ladies!

If I could have any talent... I don't need to think about this one, I'm reminded of my lack of talent in this area every day. I would LOVE to be able to sing.
I often sing along to music (I use the term loosely!) if I'm at home, but always mime anywhere else, even in Church; because there are no words to describe the unholy noise that comes out of my mouth when I sing out loud!

I've always been aware of my (tone-death-doesn't-cover-it) singing voice... I remember being as young as seven-ish and miming during assembly so that the other kids couldn't hear me, silently mouthing each word dramatically so as to appear believable if a teacher looked my way.
Turned out one teacher was looking my way; he picked me for the school choir... because, he said... I opened my mouth so beautifully when I sang. o_O
For the rest of that school year (wishing I was invisible, and still miming) I was sat at the front of the hall during assembly...with the rest of the choir!

If I could live one day again... - it would be the last day I saw my Dad.
My Dad lived a long way from me, and, as mentioned above, mental illness/fear prevents me from travelling. In February of this year (3 months before he died) my Dad, my always-there-and-if-he-wasn't-there-he-was-getting-there, Dad, came to me. Riddled with Cancer, barely able to stand, and in unimaginable pain, he came to me... he came to say goodbye.

We hugged lots, loved lots, talked as much as he could manage... goodbyes were left unspoken, neither of us able to say the words.

When he left, knowing how hard the moment was for him, I hugged him brave...like a grown up. The child inside was bawling, I didn't let her out.
He released my hold on him, kissed my head, and said "keep smiling babe", then he turned and walked down the garden path.

When he reached the gate he turned and looked straight at me, he held my gaze for only a moment before turning away again... in that moment I read my life time in his eyes... and I read his breaking heart, his I love you... his goodbye".

I didn't want to be brave anymore. I wanted to run down the path with the child's tears pouring down my face, throw myself into his arms, beg him to stay.

I stayed dry-eye-brave in the doorway until he'd disappeared through the gate. Then went into the toilet, stamped my feet like a child, and cried.

If I could live that day again... I'd run down the path!


If I could have any super power... Ooh, now then... can I have two?
Time travel would get me to 'the Walnut Grove' of the Ingalls's, but I've always quite fancied being Mary Poppins. If I were Mary Poppins... I could click my fingers and put the whole world to rights.

David Cameron...click...gone. George Osborne...click...gone. Iain Dunken Smith...
click, click, Dunky!
World peace...click...done. New home...click. Housework...click... *clicks fingers hopefully*.

I'm think I'm gonna go with Mary-Poppins-Power...
If I can jump into pictures, travel by brolly, and have tea on a ceiling, I reckon time travel will be a breeze...
Walnut Grove here I come... Just as soon as I've outed the Tories ;o)
If I Could...
Thank you for allowing me to share

God bless you and all those you love

Kimmie x

I tag the following people

Dear tagged... Please feel free to ignore the prompt if you are busy, or if  blog tags are not something you usually take part in.

Dear reader... Please do visit the bloggers in the above list if you have time. They are all fabulous bloggers...well worth reading :o) 

 

Sunday, 18 January 2015

'Forget Me Not' #poem

Copyright©2015kimmie All Rights Reserved 

Life's throwing me more than my fair share of 'yukkity yuk yuk' ATM, and I'm having to go with the flow,  I'm muddling through (in my own way) but there's not much time (or head space) for writing....in my efforts to keep the blog flowing until I'm able to write more, I thought I'd share a 'here's one I wrote earlier' poem..  - Normal rambles will resume soon, I hope!

Thank you for allowing me to share

God bless you and all those you love

Kimmie x

Wednesday, 5 March 2014

'Where I once saw special'

Where I once saw special. via @stuckinscared mentalillnessgodandme.blogspot.co.uk

The past week (following a major mental health melt down last Wednesday) has been a low as low can be kinda week!

What led me to lose control? – A hair cut (I kid you not!)  though in my defence *hair hack* would be more accurate.

I can’t remember all that happened after I shot upstairs chocking back (Don’t be bloody stupid it’s only hair) tears - and out of respect for other mental health sufferers I’m not going to describe too explicitly what I do remember but to give you an idea...  

I remember spitting “I hate you” at my mirrored self over and over again – I remember (and I'm still haunted by) the piercing hatred in the eyes starring back at me.  
I remember feeling angry, unimaginably angry, angry at me!

I don’t remember getting to the bathroom or how long I was in there but I do remember sitting on the bathroom floor sobbing, still incredibly angry and wanting to (but trying so hard not too) hurt myself, and I do remember hitting the bathroom wall hard enough to make a hole in it. 
The pain in my wrist would not register until hours later.

From bathroom back to bedroom is fragmented... I don’t recall going downstairs for cigarettes but I must have done because I don’t keep cigs and lighter (or smoke as a rule) upstairs and I don’t recall locking the bedroom door, but again, I must have done because it was locked when sometime later (burnt, bleeding, incredibly ashamed, but calmer) I went to leave the room.

It all seems so irrational now - It was irrational.
The way I’m STILL letting it get to me now IS irrational…. It’s just a dodgy hair cut FGS….!

Except there’s more to it than that…! More to it than my usual OCD related need for perfection or my (life long) lack of self-esteem!

You see if I’d felt loved on Wednesday (hair hack day), as loved as I felt in the first ‘butterfly tummy’ months of my relationship with ‘The Body Guard’ (That's hubby to the newbies) - as loved as I’d  felt on our wedding day when I’d held his face in my hands in front of friends, family and God and saw everything that’s good in me reflected in his eyes; then perhaps my post ‘hair hack’ reaction might have been less 'mad woman' and more ‘what the fu*k have you done to my hair’, followed by a few weeks of obsessive titivating. 

Until last summer I never doubted for a moment how much 'The Body Guard' loved me. 
I was loved (warts and all) like I had never (with the exception of my dad who thinks the sun shines out of my arse and my nan who died when I was eleven) been loved before - special. 


I was loved (Like that) right up to (and including the morning of) the day I discovered his secret email account and secret (*virtual* doesn’t make it any less unfaithful in my opinion, especially given the nature of their conversations) bit on the side!

I’m 48 years old, mentally ill (though he knew that from the start) my smile rarely reaches my eyes these days, I look like I've been dug up in the mornings and I've got more saggy bits than Bag-Puss. 

She (‘Natty’) was everything I’m not – YOUNG (over half my age) - FAT (Turn me sideways and you lose me) – Boobs up to her chin (mine breastfed my first four kids, were tortured for 8 months by a breast pump after my fifth (disabled and fed through a tube) child was born and then went into hiding) and her hair…! Her beautiful, long, silky, shiny, frigging-perfect  hair (mine is.Oh you get the picture.) 

So you see Wednesdays melt down wasn't just about dodgy hair (though my OCD inhabited mind does worry more than most about appearance) It was about months and months of held in heartache, fear and incredibly low self esteem.
Months of trying to trust his "I love you" with his "I don't love you anymore" of last summer still ringing in my ears.  
Months of trying to make 48 seem 28 and failing miserably. 
Months of blaming myself... I'm too old, too skinny, don’t smile enough, too mentally ill - not sexy enough, not pretty enough, NOT GOOD ENOUGH…! 
Months of looking into the eyes of the man I love and seeing (where I once saw special) everything I despise about myself reflected back at me.

I’m not making excuses for my behaviour (my behaviour was unacceptable) I’m just ‘Telling it how it is’….because it’s cathartic, because I need to and because here in my space....I can. 

                                   'Mud Mud Glorious Mud'

POSITIVE THOUGHTS
‘The body guard’ is as gentle and caring as he always was, he’s incredibly sorry, trying so hard to make us ‘Us again’ and he’s still here... It could be worse.
And me?  Well the outside might have seen better days but (If he looks with heart as apposed to nether regions) there is inner beauty.
I’m compassionate, forgiving (clearly! O_o)  and my hearts in the right place… He could do worse!
As for dodgy hair - It will grow... At this point I need you all to nod.

PRAYER
Serenity Prayer


Thank you as always for allowing me to share

God bless you and all those you love

Kimmie x

Tuesday, 17 September 2013

Meat & Two Veg (Minus The Meat)

In my last post I mentioned that I have a ‘big issue’ in my life at the moment.  I also said I was writing about said issue and would be throwing it your way when I was done.

Well it turns out I’m not able to do that right now.  I’m still slap bang in the middle of it, struggling to get my head around it and I have no idea how the stories going to end!

Having said that I am finding that holding back completely on sharing ‘big issue’ is causing a writing block.  I can’t write honestly about anything if I’m not honest about everything (if that makes any sense)
There’s an Elephant in the room (so to speak) whenever I attempt to write!  

I’m hoping (fingers crossed) this little ramble will get ‘Stuck - In - Scared’ unstuck!

Okay here goes........  Just the ‘two veg’ for now I’m afraid - I’ll bring you the meat when it’s done!

‘The body Guard’ - That man I’m forever boasting about, ‘that he above all others’ who I’m forever thanking God for.  
My wonderful – caring  – loves the bones of me – would never hurt me – “I love you so much my beautiful baby” – gentle – amazing hubby, has gone and broken my heart!

He’s ashamed, incredibly sorry and doing his best to mend said heart.
I’m heartbroken, incredibly insecure and doing my best to ensure the meat (which is currently far too raw for my liking) is falling off the bone by the time it reaches you lot.

He says that blinded by my mental illness (which in fairness has been greatly exacerbated this past two years) he lost sight of ‘me’ - he’s sorry - he loves me - he’ll never hurt me again.

Iv'e never been more sure of anyone one or anything as (up until six weeks ago) I was of him!
And now? - Never before have I felt more unsure of 'everything' as I do right now!

I trusted him completely - I want more than anything to trust him again but I'm not there yet.  

However I am in love with this *turns out he’s just a man* man of MINE! - not for one single moment have I EVER doubted that.
I’m not giving up without a fight!  

POSITIVE THOUGHT

PRAYER

Thank you Lord for - giving me the words Iv'e needed to say, the strength to face the unthinkable and for my ‘bounce back ability’ Amen.

Thank you for allowing me to share

God bless you and all those you love

Kimmie x  

Related Posts
Is nothing sacred anymore
'Mud Mud Glorious Mud'