Fear again

My mind ambles, no, drags its little mind-feet from one place to the other, dead weight. As I start to latch onto one thing I am rudely forced to another, never quite getting a grip on any idea or thought, slowly trudging through a swamp of them, none more enticing than the next, all rather dreary really. A bunch of tadpoles in a muddy puddle, the wind whipping around it, threatening any hopes of them becoming frogs.

I received a joyous SMS from an old school friend, a lovely girl who deserves every ounce of happiness coming her way, announcing that she is expecting her second child. Not an unusual SMS for me to get, being of that age where people are getting into second (and third) sprogs. Happy families.*

Today, though, with my dreary, dredgy mind, it just slammed me on the back of my head and made me wonder when it was that I got left behind. How did I miss the queue for Finding a Husband and where was turnoff to the First Baby (and Second etc)? Which pathway did I accidently stumble away from? I realise I am not alone in this mid-30’s status, and also that the whole marriage thing has never been a huge focus in my life (I’m not one of those who has dreamt of my princess bridal gown since I was 6 years old.)

It’s none of that fairytale stuff, it’s that fear of mine again, rearing its ugly, sharp-tooth-filled head, red eyes glinting. Loneliness. It’s biting at my heels, its teeth bared, waiting. A fear that makes me do silly things and makes my head spin until I feel physically ill.

A fear I need to fight.

*For the record: I did not send a horrible, dark reply because I really am glad for her. It’s fabulous news and received the joyous reply it deserved.

An unexpected realisation

It was a strange Easter weekend. I did lots and, at the same time, did little. Had a couple of dinner and lunch dates, which were lovely, and then spent some me time, alone, at home, doing, well, um, nothing (except watching Season 1 and 2 of Green Wing. In their entirety).

I was feeling a little out-of-sorts you see, and anti-social, and wasn't sure why. Sunday night I got very little sleep, due to a combination of things, and my inherent worriededness. I realised, on reflection, that, while I generally count myself as happy-go-lucky, I am forever thinking I don't deserve the happiness I get. And then, as a result, I seem to think it's going to be taken away from me. It's terrifying.

Good grief, I had NO idea what I was going to write about today, and have never admitted to anybody that I have this crippling terror. Just goes to show what comes from just blurting out 'stuff' as opposed to thinking before writing.

Is this a result of my own personal tragedy, or was this there before? I honestly can't tell. But I can tell you that it’s very definitely there now. And I’m not entirely sure how to make it go away, now that I’ve acknowledged it’s presence. It’s sitting there in one of the (many) back corridors of my mind. It’s a dark, gloopy place, filled with fear and tears.

I wonder if there’s some kind of vacuum cleaner for such places?

PG14 VL

Please note this blog carries an age restriction. It may contain scenes of violence and strong language. Parental guidance is advised.

Oh no, you don't!

Don't you dare come slinking through the dark night, sneaking through my window, slipping through the crack in my door. Please. Don't creep in under the covers behind me, and snuggle up to me, caressing my arm with your long fingers, breathing on the back of my neck. Don't make me invite you in, open up for you.

Don't whisper those thoughts in my ear, half-waking me. Please. Don't send your being coursing through my veins, freezing my blood, making my pulse race. Don't get into every nook and cranny of my body, my soul, my brain, filling me. Chilling me.

Please. Don't.

Fuck off, Fear, you bastard. And take your cousin, Insecurity, with you.

Or, is it something else?