%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |  A third blog? A good idea? A fresh start? A disaster? An omen? ...who knows anything? |
I nearly gave up on blogging and WDC. Then life threw another huge curveball and I felt like giving up on everything. But I'm Scarlett...I keep trying and hoping. I know not where this will go but I take it one day at a time.   |
| Others saw it coming and I guess I suspected it would too. I was manic, almost high, rushing into things and making decisions too soon. The crash came last Monday and I have had an horrendous week of severe depression, sinking lower and lower into the depths of despair and wondering if there'll ever be a way out. I can't focus on anything properly apart from my own dark thoughts and having been in this state before know how difficult it is to climb out of. Days are endless, meaningless, and much as I try to do things I can't concentrate or enjoy anything. My appetite has closed down, my sleep is disturbed and I hate waking up to face another day. Doctors don't seem to be able to help and I know ultimately it will be up to me to drag myself out of the black hole. Palpitations, sweats, the inability to relax and panic take over despite efforts to control them. Knowing I now face life alone and can find nothing to do to distract my thoughts is a terrifying prospect. Three months ago I lost my husband yet it seems now the world has deserted me and expects me to have recovered. Oh that it was so simple. |
| Another week of feeling very unwell and the ear, nose and throat infection not responding to treatment. Everyone tells me it's a case of being very run down and the shock of it all, but it seems most unfair when we're struggling with everything that debilitating conditions should add to the equation. I still have so much to do. Paperwork, clearing out, keeping up with housework and appointments seem overwhelming at times and life looks grim if I think too far ahead. I am receiving very little outside help. Amidst all this maybe I have rushed into a decision, but I won't call it an unwise one. My home of the last thirty-three years is now up for sale and I am determined to move elsewhere in an effort to improve my state of mind and way of life. It won't change the facts or take away the loneliness, but I cannot bear to live in a large, three bedroomed house alone with the familiarity of the past. Some find it a comfort being surrounded by memories, but I do not. My most precious memories are in my rather befuddled head and will remain there as long as I keep my marbles. None of us know when our time is up and few even contemplate it. I have always been very conscious of mortality and whether my own be very short or longer than I suspect, I know with absolute certainty I do not want to spend that time here. So, everything crossed for a quick sale, a suitable property and a glimmer of hope. I could sure use one right now. |
| I rarely discuss religion or politics as I see far too many abusive debates involving these topics and have no desire to enter them. I do let it be known I am a Spiritualist and try to believe in the continuation of the soul. Since my husband's passing, there have been many events and incidents which hopefully confirm my beliefs. I wanted this blog to be a combination of reality and spirituality, so let me record one incredible experience in here today. Once the family had booked a date for the funeral a member of staff visited my home. There were three of us here; my son, my stepdaughter and myself. We discussed formalities and preferences for a long time. We debated over pictures we wanted for the Order of Service and eventually decided on sports inside the booklet and a steam train on the front. My husband was a big railway enthusiast and spent many hours building model railways. I could never really see the fascination, but admired his patience and skills. Because of my lack of interest I checked in the bookcase to make sure we had the right type of train in mind. His main interest was in Southern Railways for whatever reason. After the visitor left, my stepdaughter and I went into the kitchen to adjust the timer on the boiler. My son was sitting in a chair opposite the television with nothing in his hands. The remote controls were on the coffee table on the other side of the room. After a while my son wandered into the kitchen and asked me if I'd put a DVD on the television. I was confused as to what he meant, but followed him back into the lounge. He does not lie or imagine things. As he'd been sitting in the chair the television came on, switched to a blue screen and started playing a DVD. Unbeknown to me there was a railway DVD in the slot and as I looked at the TV a railway sign containing the words 'Southern Railways' appeared on the screen. We were all quite taken aback, but could only take it as a sign he was indeed watching over us and proving he knew what we'd been discussing. It is rare the three most important people in his life are together alone and all three of us witnessed this experience. Some would scoff I know. Some would find it spooky or disturbing. I found it a great comfort at the time and I know his children also felt him around us. I have asked every atheist, scientist and technology expert I know, but no one can offer an explanation. My husband was a strong character and a powerful personality. I have no doubt he would let us know his soul is continuous and he could not have made it any clearer. It doesn't take the pain away of course, but keeping faith is one factor in keeping going. |
| I keep intending to write a more positive entry about my spiritual beliefs and experiences, but events keep on preventing this. I have been slowly recovering from a full blown cold after three weeks. Then along comes the throat bug from hell and knocks my son, his family and myself flat out. He has had some of the worst call outs from his job in the middle of the night as well as trying to cope with family. This has made communication difficult and low on the ground. My husband's bachelor brother has never been any support and flew out to New Zealand the day after the funeral. My stepdaughter and family are proving what matters to them is more material than anything else and are not offering any practical help whatsoever. Friends vary in their input, but thankfully I have some good ones. I feel lousy and fear I may have to resort to a doctor if no better after the weekend. For now it's just a case of getting through each day for whatever reason and hoping for a glimmer of hope in the darkness of reality. I have been through some rough times, but this is something else. I will continue to take each day as it comes and hope to share better experiences before long. The long evenings alone really are unbearable at times. |
| I have spent years complaining about time passing too quickly and wishing there were more hours in the day. The God of Irony has now ensured my days seem endless and time almost crawls. There is still so much to do, but none of it pleasant and it is only the short interludes with friends, swimming or walking that help with survival. Of course I question why I am still here, left alone and seemingly with no purpose. I'm tired, I'm heartbroken and have a stinking cold into the bargain. I admit I feel sorry for myself, but am also aware there are many others in the same or worse positions. Everything in life is comparative. I guess the adrenaline has stopped racing. The slump sets in and fighting depression is not a new experience for me. But I truly feel lost and without hope, though I know many will remind me I have family, grandchildren, friends, memories and possibly an unknown future ahead. It's hard to hang on to that, particularly as the sympathetic visitors drift away, other news takes over their interest and reality sets in. I have never been a morning person, but waking far too early with this unbelievable feeling of loss and no sense of purpose is crippling. The evenings are also hard to cope with. I am not a big television watcher, I am finding it hard to read, pursue any interests or even cook a meal. I panic as I start thinking the only way to avoid them is to go out. The dark nights in a dodgy area where there is little to do without travelling on public transport are hardly suitable for a single, elderly woman. Weekends are the worst as people are busy with their own plans and families and towns are overwhelming and far too busy for me to cope with. The meltdowns are more frequent now after almost ten weeks. I know it's still early days. I know I have to make dramatic changes and take each day as it comes. I know all the platitudes about time healing, clinging to hope, trying to smile in the face of adversity and all that. But right now very little is helping and I think I'd rather be with my lost loved ones than here in agony. Sometimes it's a comfort knowing I am in the last phase of my life, but fear of the unknown isn't easy to brush away. Writing isn't easy either, but others are pushing me to do it. I question why, but of course there are no solid answers. I never did like Sundays. Nothing for it but to face the day, see what it brings and continue taking each as it comes. I am clinging to faith by a very fine thread. Life goes on is another worn out cliche. |
| Another five days have passed with high and very mixed emotions, but what would we do without other people and special friends? I feel truly blessed on that front. Things went well with Big Pam. We shared coffee, lunch and the inevitable bottle of wine. Pam is still Pam and I am still me with new and deeper scars. Only the fun and happy memories from the past were shared and it was if the five years we missed melted away. We both have different commitments and paths to travel, but we will keep in touch and meet up when appropriate. I do not need routines or a timetable to live by. I am very happy to have her back in my life. Saturday was the celebration of my friend Jane's 50th birthday in my favourite town on Newark. It was bitterly cold with smatterings of snow, but it was good if emotional to be surrounded by my sister, my gals and Jane's lovely, eccentric family. My sort of people. It also gave me the opportunity to visit a specialist shop in the town where I have been put in touch with a genuine railway enthusiast who is going to come and evaluate David's very large collection of railway models and memorabilia. Unfortunately Sunday was Mother's Day in England; another occasion that guts me having lost my own blessed Mum and now being a mother with no partner. My husband always treated me very generously at this time as thanks for our son. I told Paul and my stepdaughter Louise I wanted nothing as it would only upset me. I so wish these so called special days could be played down as so many people are reminded of sad occasions and the main reason such a fuss is made in these times is for profit. Yes, I'm still a huge cynic. Fortunately I still had my sister with me and despite our rather delicate heads we managed to make our own way by train, tram and feet to meet Paul and Mey Ling with the grand monsters for a meal out. It was good to see them and the children. We are all hurting but are honest and hopefully comforting for the little ones. My friend June and I have joined a gym with excellent rates and facilities. I don't think we'll be pumping iron, spinning or running on treadmills, but they have a fabulous swimming pool and some very therapeutic classes. This morning my sister and I went a long walk on a very cold but bright day, then June picked us up and drove us for a lovely swim and hot pool session. Sis has gone home now and of course my spirits have dipped and the pain is still raw, but I have survived another five days of grieving with the help and support of others. One day at a time... |
It's a well known cliche and I admit I've used it myself through some very tough times in the past, but when tragedy strikes you really do find out who your most genuine friends are. My present situation has changed my perspective and altered my opinions and allegiances quite dramatically. We are all different and I always try not to judge too harshly or make assumptions, but I have had shocks and surprises all the way through these last few heartbreaking weeks.  Some people, usually the ones who rarely keep in touch, are on your doorstep the minute they hear the bad news. They mean well, but not phoning beforehand to check if you need or want company, or if you are even there isn't really appropriate. In time these people will go back to their own lives and problems and keep in touch now and again. Fair enough. Sadly, some people, often those on the periphery of your life make contact wanting to know the gory details and everything you really don't want to discuss. I do not appreciate that sort of person at all and they will stay on the bottom shelf of my friendship list. One person I thought was a friend actually sent me an email in a tone that seemed angry. Chinese whispers had led her to believe I had accused her of not contacting me. She conceded the fault was mine due to grief. The fact I had not received two emails she claimed to have sent she took as a personal affront. Despite my explanation that sometimes things get lost in the ether and an apology if she felt upset I have heard nothing further. This one will drop off my friendship shelf. Some of you may remember a friend of mine I referred to as Big Pam in my other blogs. Big Pam fell out with me over four years ago over a trivial matter and has made no contact since. Big Pam picked up the phone when she finally heard the sad news five weeks later and expressed her sorrow for my loss. I have known Pam for thirty-five years and I am aware for her to offer an olive branch at this time would be a massive thing because of her nature and pride. I have always been a very sensitive person. Often a soft touch and sometimes a Mug who gets hurt by other people very easily. I have had to toughen up as much as I can over the last few years, but it is rare I refuse to forgive. So Pam and I are back on speaking terms and I'll be meeting her for coffee and a chat on Friday. I have no intention of making her a big part of my life again, but I welcome the return of a friendship and can now erase some of the hurt she inflicted on me. I'll put her back on my friendship shelves with a smile. Some people are pure gold, be they close by or across oceans, online or off. My Mum used to say if you made one true friend in life you were lucky and I suspect there is a lot of wisdom in her words. I have at least FIVE people who have gone above and beyond the call of duty to help me, support me, do practical things, listen and understand. These are my top shelf friends and I appreciate them in my life so much. No one knows how they will feel or react in these circumstances. The complete meltdowns of disbelief are the worst times. But as always it's one day at a time. This one is cold, grey and very lonely so I think my new blog will be a good friend to me and at least it won't desert me, be angry, offer false platitudes, answer back or hurt my feelings. |
| By popular demand here is the recipe for the aforementioned Angel Whispers. There are of course many variations on the net, but as with most things in life too many choices just confuse the mind. INGREDIENTS For the cookies 1 Cup of butter 2. Half cup of sugar 3. Two cups of flour 4. 1 tsp of lemon zest 5. Half tsp of salt For the Filling 1. 1 Beaten Egg (feeling a bit like one of those myself) 2. Two thirds cup of white sugar 3. Half teaspoon of lemon zest. 4. Three tbs of lemon juice 5. Half tbs of butter In a medium bowl cream together the butter and sugar until light. Stir in lemon zest, flour and salt. Cover bowl and chill for about an hour. (chance would be a fine thing) Preheat oven to 400 degrees F/200 degrees C Flatten teaspoons of dough onto cookie sheets and bake for 5 to 8 minutes until light brown. Remove from baking sheets to cool on racks. To make the filling combine the beaten egg, sugar, lemon zest, lemon juice and butter. Stir until thick. (I'm already thick) Sandwich cookies with 1 teaspoon of filling. So there you have it. Simple enough with neat lists of five. I haven't tried it yet. I find cooking and baking one of the worst things at the moment. My hubby loved his food and I spent a great deal of time in the kitchen. I just can't do it right now and cooking for one has always seemed a sad state of affairs. Don't worry; I'm eating, but nothing like things used to be. I don't understand why I'm not losing weight as I'm doing a lot of walking too. Maybe there are more calories in alcohol than we're told or maybe it's stress. No matter. I have started writing my book, but officialdom, paperwork, phone calls, humdrum and faffing are still taking up most of my time. When I researched images of Angel Whispers it also threw up a book of the same name. Shucks. Back to the drawing board. One day at a time...  |
| I remember the day I started my second blog and how I stated I had no idea where life would lead me. What a journey it has been, beyond anything I could have imagined. God never gives you more than you can handle is something I debate on a daily basis, but here I am and a much more vulnerable, flaky and frailer person. I don't know whether a new blog is a good idea. There are few readers left here, but I just don't feel safe exposed in the cost free blogging world out there. WDC may be expensive, peculiar and difficult to navigate, but somehow it's home and the place I keep returning to with my broken heart and dreams. My first two blog titles have culinary implications and I wanted to continue that theme. But so many things have changed and I have had so many strange and wonderful experiences amongst the pain. I wanted a title that would encompass food and spirituality. I researched and discovered there is actually a recipe for a cake called Angel Whispers. I like that on many levels. I have many things to write about. I have an annoying and exhausting manic energy which I don't particularly like, but it's preferable to lying down in a darkened room. Maybe grief gives us an overdose of adrenaline, but I'm sure it will fade in time and I may crash completely. But one day at a time has been my motto for a long time and yet again fate has decreed that is all I can do. I am now ready to work on the novel I have never been able to complete before. I just pray to put my affairs in order and complete my book, be it a success or a failure. I am not scared of life or death any longer. I am grieving. I have complete meltdowns and question why I am still here, now alone with no obvious purpose. But there are no answers to these questions. Faith will keep me going for the moment, but of course I have not lost my cynical, sarcastic heads and have no intentions of abandoning them. I am me, you are you and no matter how few readers I have, I will return here when I can and when I feel like writing. Now I must retire to bed. It's late, I am exhausted but I needed to give birth to this new blog before retiring. Tomorrow is another day... |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
) I try to dress according to the color of the day. Thursday is orange. Once I dress accordingly I only need to look at what I'm wearing to be reminded. 
If I put on the wrong color though...
