Monthly Archives: November 2010

One day I will stop..

  • confusing myself
  • confusing everyone else.
  • being unable to make a simple decision.
  • stop resisting the inevitable.
  • making what should be quite easy really difficult.
  • mentally beating myself up over what is past, done with, and finished.
  • thinking everything is my responsibility.

One day I may start

  • listening to myself, because I’m far more sensible about myself than I give myself credit for.
  • trusting other people again.
  • all over again!!

I am glad to be me…

and, oh, I’ve not felt like that for such a long time, it’s worth recording for posterity.

It’s not just been that the fun side of my work has returned (the last two months have been pure hard unpleasant slog – and today has been so enjoyable, so unexpectedly) and my sense of proportion about work/life has also come out of hiding, nor just that having made a stand about something that really matters to me and stuck to it, regardless of what others have thought, nor that I’m rejoicing in the return of my musical mojo, (I cannot ever remember having such a musically barren period of time as this last few months have been – not even the period when I had an arm in a sling for weeks and could only practice the piano left handed, and the clarinet not at all).

No, it’s more that I’m comfortable in my now less new circumstances, and it finally feels I can relax into it all and enjoy it.

Strange goings-on

Goodness, what a difference a couple of hours makes! I got home earlier than usual, as there was no work to do that required me to remain on the premises, so I had a nap, had a bath, cooked and ate my dinner – and have a weekday evening with a certain amount of energy to do something I enjoy doing, rather than slumped wondering when this day will end!! I’ve seen my area in daylight in the week, which is also strange! I wasn’t expecting to do that again until the clocks sprang forwards next March.

What a difference cutting Facebook out of my life has made as well… I’m still thinking about it, but somehow, ever since I did it, if feels as if a huge mental burden has gone. If I reactivate the account, there will be severe pruning happening. Interestingly only one person has made any comment about it… and it’s sparked off an interesting train of events. Which reminds me, I have an email to write, now I’m calm.

Now, to go and have a proper lie down. It’s been cruelly pointed out to me Advent is approaching fast, the annual Card Writing Extravaganza will be upon me, and careful thought needs to be given to the annual letter this year.

Am I being unreasonable?

Oh dear, that didn’t go so well.

I was immediately pounced on as I walked into church this morning, to be apologised to… it might’ve gone better if the apologiser hadn’t repeated the crime of the previous week, in grabbing me by the arm to move me to a corner to explain. Dear soul, if last week I reacted badly to you putting a hand on my shoulder, what makes you think I’d react well to you touching me, even though I could see it was coming, this week? Sorry – my instinct is to step back, and ask you not to touch me.

I wish there was some logical explanation for why I sometime react so badly to being touched. (And, as far as I can tell there are no deep-seated traumas or whatevers to explain it – so don’t even think about suggesting it. The best I can come up with I grew up in a very non-tactile family, and being upset about anything got you nowhere, and to this day that continues.) All I know is I do. I do know it’s more likely when I’m deeply upset, or if it’s unexpected. When I’m head down, eyes closed, very upset – though very quietly so, in public place trying to calm down – my closest, oldest friends wouldn’t come anywhere near me until I made it clear it was safe!! Someone unknown putting their hand on my shoulder totally unexpectedly when I’m sat like that… well, you’re pretty lucky I didn’t swear violently at you, as well as push your hand away.

It also happens when I don’t like the person concerned. Which I don’t think this is…

I do, unfortunately, have a extremely well calibrated “I’m very good with people, I am trained to be pastoral sensitive, and I’m going to use it on you whether you want it or not!” detector. The words “I was only trying to help” and “But, I was so concerned” accompanied by a very wide-eyed look and hurt expression have me running in the opposite direction – mentally, and physically. And extremely unlikely to have me say anything to you about why I might be upset in church.

I really appreciated the two ladies who usually sit not far from me quietly asking me if I was OK this week, and leaving it at that when I smiled and nodded! I appreciated the person who got in touch in the week, and checked I was OK

I am actually a pretty tactile person when all is well in my world. But, with those who know and love me, and it’s by mutual consent!

Ah well…

Breakthrough week

I’ve been with the current mob for long enough to know we’ve hit the point where I know them well enough to work with them more effectively, and they’ve sussed out I’m not to be messed around with any more they’d mess around with their tutors. And, three of them have so, so hated me – but admitted by the end of my time with them this week that if they want to progress I will be able to help them do that. My knowledge of their chosen subject may be nil, (but I’m learning fast! Boy, am I learning fast – I think three new areas of work and my own qualification work are exploding my brain capacity) but I can help them learn in ways that work for them…. Some wry smiles were eventually coaxed out of some very reluctant learners who had, um, learnt something!

In the meantime, I think some progress has been made on other fronts. I’m still very tired, but feel far less likely to implode. I’ve moved some furniture around, and concluded the real issue is only going to be solved once I get some new glasses!! It seems I’m safe on the accommodation front for a while longer, and I’ve not had to do the chasing up this time!

I’ve also deactivated my FB account… after a long discussion in the week about “Japes’ need to get a life beyond work” coupled with a growing dis-ease about various aspects of how it was being used to communicate to me in ways I was not happy about and various boundaries were being broken which I was even more unhappy about. This is a big decision, and not undertaken lightly (some people I e-mailed at the same time to alert them to the fact I’d done this, and it’s not a self destruct moment, but a thought through one.).

I’m sorry about the Scrabble games I’ve abandoned, though. I did try to get them all to a finish and no re-matches, but failed.

Dear People of My Church,

I know, I’m confusing you.

It’s not any of you I’m struggling with, it’s God.

I come in at the very last minute, smile as I collect the collection of books for the service, go to my preferred corner, am mostly friendly enough when spoken to, but prefer not to engage in conversation, and slide out one the organist has finished his voluntary. Preferably avoiding having to talk to anyone.

I sometimes come to evening services, or special saints days one. Not always.

Occasionally I’m chattier, but it’s not often. Start asking questions, and I find a way to end the conversation, and slide out again.

It’s not any of you I’m struggling with, it’s God.

Some of you seem to have got the hang of it – leave me alone, and I might talk, invade my space and I don’t want to know. Others of you need lessons in body language. If I’ve been exchanging the peace, and suddenly sit down, keeping my head down, it means I’ve had enough, and can cope with no more. Trying to force yourself on me will result in what you probably perceive as a rude response… there are times when I know I have been rude, and I apologise for that.

If I’m sitting there, head down, throughout, yes, it means I’m crying. No, it doesn’t mean I want you trying to help. So, whoever put a hand on my shoulder, I’m sorry I shrugged it off so violently, and moved further away from the aisle to avoid a repetition of that, but I can’t bear being touched by anyone other than someone I want to be touched by when I’m upset. No, it’s not a psychological problem, just a fact of life. Again, lessons in body language are required.

It’s not any of you I’m struggling with, it’s God.

One day, I hope I’ll feel safe enough to come out of this back corner. Maybe, one day, I’ll let you have an insight into my world. But, right now, I don’t think you’d cope with it. Nor would I cope. Because, from what I’ve seen over the last year, I’m well outside all your comfort zones, and I don’t fit into any of the categories I see. It’s a lonely place to be, but it’s where I am, and I’m not adapting to fit something I can’t be. I’ve tried that, it doesn’t work.

It’s not any of you I’m struggling with, it’s God.

I know you’d be delighted if I would be on various rotas, or committees, go to the women’s group, (not helped here by the fact I like better by far the things the men’s group do… and I’m sure some of the men would prefer the women’s groups activities) help with the children or youth, join the choir, help with the various events, but frankly, after a whole adult lifetime of doing all that, I’ve had enough.

But I will keep coming to church, because for now, it’s about God. Somehow, it’s where I’m meeting God in this struggle, and where I’m being honest with God.