Writer’s Block #2

I haven’t posted much recently, as you may have noticed. I’m not in the best of places right now. There is so much in my life that I am unhappy with, and although I am trying hard to change certain things, it just isn’t happening for me. Given time, I’m sure it will, but it will be hard work, and there is no option of a quick fix. I can feel myself becoming more and more disillusioned by the day, and I’m slowly spiralling down into a pit of despair. My life desperately needs to change, but I am beginning to doubt my own choices. I have taken so many wrong turns. It would be nice to have someone show me the way, but I am aware that only I can do that. 

So, until I am feeling more myself, I just don’t have the energy or the inclination to write, here or anywhere else. Hopefully this will change in the near future.

Thank you for following my blog. 💜

Writing Prompt Day #3: What Am I Grateful For?

I haven’t had the easiest of lives up until now. There have been beginning and ends, uproots and changes, losses and heartbreak. I had an emotional breakdown at 21, which really didn’t bode well for my young adult years. Before that, my early teens were agonisingly horrific, and they paved the way for many years of struggling to fit in, struggling to be understood and accepted.

It has only been in recent years that I have fully grown into the person that I am. At 40, I am at a point in my life where I am content, and it is all thanks to my son.

From a very young age, I was always adamant that I would never have children. Being one of those people who prefer animals to the human race, I have always cooed and simpered when it came to a kitten or puppy, yet shied away when a squalling human baby was involved. I think my family were flabbergasted when I fell pregnant, as I was myself. It certainly wasn’t planned; however, it had been on my mind. At 29, I had nothing of importance to show for my life so far. I worked in a supermarket, I rented a shitty one-bedroomed flat, I was in a depressing relationship with an older guy who had more emotional problems than myself and was intent on making me as unhappy with life as he was! My brother, two years younger than me, had recently had a baby with his older girlfriend, and my baby sister was well on her way to populating the town with a string of brats. Maybe a baby was what I needed.

Now I know many of you are probably reading this and thinking WHAT?!! But it wasn’t like that. I didn’t see a child as an accessory. I just felt that maybe, just maybe, the stars were aligning themselves to show me the way forward..

So when I discovered I was pregnant after a mix up with my contraceptive pill, I was filled with a determination to become a parent. This was my next challenge in life, and I embraced it fully. My relationship was going nowhere and I gave him every option to get out, but he insisted on staying (temporarily, which is another story) and becoming a full-time father.

That dead-end relationship that I had clung to fell by the wayside as soon as I glimpsed my newborn son. I didn’t need to waste my time desperately seeking unconditional love anymore. For unconditional love was right there in my arms.

Of course, I have made the odd stupid mistake over the years. But motherhood has definitely changed my life, and certainly put things into perspective.

I am grateful to my son, my best creation, the most worthwhile thing I have ever done in my entire life, for giving me a reason to live, and for showing me that I am worthy of love.

Writing Prompt Day #2: What Place Do You Consider Your Home?

Hmm, so what place do I consider home…

In response to this, I suppose I should choose my current residence. After all, I call it home, and I can’t wait to get back to it each day when I finish work.

However, there have been places over the years that I have visited and left a piece of my heart in. I do still hanker after those places, and at times they suffuse my dreams.

When I was a kid, my dad’s grandparents owned a chalet in Abersoch, North Wales. It was an upmarket affair, four-bedrooms with an en-suite in my grandparents’ room and a jacuzzi bath in the main bathroom. It was situated on the beach front and I remember falling asleep to the sound of the tide kissing the shore just yards away.

I was entranced by the sea and spent hours just staring out into St. Tudwal’s bay, armed with the binoculars my Grandad kept by the door. I was fascinated by the islands in the bay, one which was home to a small building and a herd of red deer, and other with its lighthouse that blinked late at night. For a time, we had a speedboat and my dad would take us out to speed around the islands and visit the seals on Seal Rock. They were as fascinated with us and we often saw their little heads bobbing in the waves as they ventured closer.

We spent every school holiday there, my brother and I, and I remember days filled with beach walks, exploring headlands, rolling down sand dunes, and building sand castles. I taught myself to swim in the sea in Abersoch, and spent many an hour pony-trekking along the beach, cantering through the shallows and hacking along the winding lanes. My favourite riding school put on 2-hour hacks which ended up on the beach outside our chalet, a long stretch of clean sand leading from Abersoch village up to Llanbedrog headland. Here, my Nana would watch and wave from our patio, and I felt like my heart would burst with happiness. 

It was all so idyllic. We were privileged children there in Abersoch but took it all for granted, and I wish I could get those days back. Of course, they are long gone, but I still dream of Abersoch, and our beachfront chalet on The Warren.

Writing Prompt Day #1: My Biggest Dream

For much of my life, I have always dreamt of being a published writer. When I was a kid, I constantly had a pony story on the go, scribbling away in an exercise book with tales of girls whose ultimate dream was to own a horse of their own, and who had their wish granted. I guess it was a way of acting out my own fantasies.

These tales were left unfinished though, because my biggest enemy and greatest critic has always been myself. I could toil away passionately in my exercise book for a good week, filling hundreds of pages, yet the following week I would re-read and hate it all. And then the editing would begin, until I had lost all enthusiasm. And the budding bestseller was no more.

I still yearn to really make a go of a writing career, but the stresses and strains of real life get in the way far too frequently these days. I rarely feel the passion that I used to, when my potential book would constantly be on my mind, and I would scribble down ideas on scraps of paper while I was in work. Life wasn’t the easiest during my twenties and early thirties, and I eventually became disillusioned. There was no time to write stories – I was struggling to get through real life as it was.

These days, I no longer feel like I have a voice that people would want to hear. I no longer have that story within me, itching to get out.

So what has changed?

My biggest dream is no longer to write. Yes, my burning ambition is to become a writer. But my biggest dream is to be happy, to get my sense of passion and romance back, and to believe in life. I want to feel that stardust in my soul again, when my creativity spilled out in an unconstrained tumble of words and ideas.

My biggest dream is to get *Me* back.

Monday blues..

Happy Monday! Wow, I am finding it more and more difficult to people every day of the week, and not just today. Maybe this is why I treasure the weekends so much, when I can choose whether to leave the house or not, instead of having to so I can pay the bills!

It’s not that I hate people, as such. I just become easily irritated by petty dramas and ignorance. I need frequent time alone, so a shift at work in an office full of people is mentally and emotionally exhausting.

I would love to, one day, be able to write for a living instead of wasting my time in a job I have no real passion for. But in the meantime, I need a steady income, which means continuing with the day job. Until when, I can’t really say. It doesn’t appear to be leading anywhere. I am stuck on a merry-go-round of working to live, and it isn’t particularly fulfilling.

I need a change.

Too Sensitive

I’m far too sensitive this week. Every nuance, every change in the atmosphere, I feel at the very core of my being, and it’s really affecting me. This evening, I feel quite stressed at the events of the day, and I’m annoyed at myself for allowing it to get to me so badly. I’m second guessing everybody and everything, and my ability to over-think is going into overdrive.

My brain feels like it is about to explode. I need a break from people.