Well…it’s another week where I’m going to probably be utterly rubbish, as I have been the last few, at coming round to see everyone. I give you fair warning, so you can decide whether or not you want to bother reading further 🙂
For me, once again, it’s a week of knowing beyond shadow of a doubt that there are many, many things I am thankful for…and I guess the beauty of this hop is that I can celebrate the things which have made my week better, without having to actually *feel* them. Which would be a welcome relief, as I’ve been feeling TOO much and would dearly love something to numb my brain a bit.
No. Scratch that. Too much hurt happening here to be able to write, and in the interests of being real for #BeReal or just because I always tend to mostly be here, and I always expect you to read, utterly fascinated by the internal workings of my mind, I’ll tell you that I’m feeling apt to dissolve into a puddle of tears in spite of the large number of people who have been trying to boost me along…just because in many many ways it’s been a day of utter agony, in all manner of ways.
I think I need to borrow Beth’s outlook and realise that all of the pain and hurt (self-inflicted or not) is here to teach us a lesson (or it can be, if we choose to learn from it) and that even the crap can be redeemed if I frame it right.
Lesson 1: Self-nurture matters
In order to carry on, I got up off my ass and set off across the flat, gathering things to me – I’m wearing a bracelet from Sandy, necklaces from Mandi and Michelle, and a neck-scarf from Beth. I felt surrounded and protected by the love of my friends, and as I remembered and cherished each friendship as I donned the
bling armour, I realised that my low mood was beginning to lift on the wings of their friendships.
Lesson 2: A problem shared is a problem halved
Or, rather, it’s not technically halved and nothing diminishes, but it IS useful to have some outside perspective and a clear head to look at a challenging aspect of life, especially when the person is someone you trust not to feed you any BS, and who cares enough about you to want things to be better for you. Thank you so so much, to my Best Trooper Friend For Fucking Life (BTFFFL), and my dear LA-Boy, both of whom had shoulders to cry on, ears to listen, and sound advice to feed back.
Lesson 3: Loss is love
That I miss my online friends when they’re away for summer, and my world just keeps ticking over how it always does. I guess means that they’re so firmly inside my heart that their absence leaves echoes, and I miss them. I’m not one to wish away good weather, but if it came down to people or sunshine, I’d take people every day! I like that they’re busy having fun, but I miss them. I try to cheer their day with summery songs, if I think they’d like them.
Lesson 5: Snail Mail Matters
I’ve been atrociously lax at organising glitterbombs lately. I don’t know whether to blame my low moods, or distraction, or sheer laziness, but they haven’t been done, and when I think how vital it was to me tonight, to be able to hold actual pieces of paper written full of words of love, by people who care about me…I feel the pinch of conscience, and also overwhelming floods of gratitude that my lovely friends would take time to send me written treasures I can store in a box within arm’s length of my end of the sofa, so that I can just get a ‘hit’ every now and again.
Lesson 6: Snail Mail Matters (ii)
Lesson 6: Honesty helps
I cannot, cannot, cannot rate highly enough the treasure which is having friends with whom one can be absolutely honest and know that they will be, in return. Get close to people. People matter, and when they become friends, they matter more. And sometimes when you speak with them every day, they might decide that you somehow belong to them a little, and that your future and theirs will be somehow confluent. Samara has been my rock this week, keeping herself in the light and dragging me there with her as often as possible, and it’s helped so very much. Sunset is ever my friend, encourager, confidante, day-brightener, and my 1000mile heart. And Beth is on holiday but will return soon, and in the meantime there’s instagram.
Lesson 7: Say “Thank you”
I had a rather lovely moment earlier in the week when a patient looked at me as I was halfway through her appointment, and remarked “You look very young to be doing this job…” She totally made my day, and I couldn’t help but squee a tiny bit out loud as I told her that I’m in my 30’s. I think it’s because I have goofy hair and teenage skin, but it was a gorgeous, utterly candid compliment, and I made sure I said thank you, very nicely *still glowing a bit*
Lesson 8: Crowdsourcing isn’t always a good idea
I goofed and asked in entirely the wrong way, for some constructive feedback about ways I could be a better person. I ended up with a variety of opinions, statements, pre-discussed suggestions and it all devolved quite badly, because as was pointed out to me – the people who are in a position to offer constructive feedback are unlikely to do so candidly in a public arena – and from there, the entire endeavour spiralled downhill and two people I love got hurt. I went through the phases of assuming blame and feeling terrible for creating the situation in the first place, and after much self-flagellation and reassurance and discussion and tears and wavering…I’ve decided not to do it again. It’s dumb. I’m passing the lesson onwards to you, and if you’re NOT like me, you might heed. (Otherwise, go forth and make your own mistakes)
Lesson 9: Bandwagons can be worth jumping on
I know that the Semicolon Project is a bandwagon, but it was one I had long considered jumping on. And after an absolutely abyssal day on Friday, I decided that rather than go and do anything silly, I would take a leaf out of Lindsay’s book and get a tattoo instead. The semicolon is a personal favourite of mine as a punctuation mark, as well as the meaning it holds in terms of solidarity and choosing to continue with life’s story at a point when it might have been a consideration to end it.
Lesson 10: Accept it – Kismet happens and sometimes things just ARE meant to be…
About two hours after I shared a pic of my new tattoo, my Darling American shared that she was about to get tatted. Lo and behold – what had she ever had done, but A SEMICOLON TAT! And it’s beautiful. She hadn’t seen mine – she just had it planned, and mine was pure serendipity, but I still rather love that she and I had these meaningful-to-us inks on the very same day, within hours of one another, across half the world. That helped.
New banner, yo. I did it.