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On pasting from Open Office

It is now official. I am using Open Office Write to post to Livejournal. At least Open Office doesn't just forget everything I've spent the past hour writing and go and dump it into some giant cyber landfill site. Ggggrrrr. Am I pissed off? Damn right I am. Typing is incredibly difficult for me at the moment because of the Fibro pain, plus on top of that the messages from my brain to my hands get kinda scrambled so I wind up with loads of typos. Then, when I've finally managed to cobble together something half decent, LiveJournal loses it.Then I do. And it's 5.30am and I'm writing to try to relax. Oh the irony!!! 
(PS. At least now I get to use my cool fonts.Woohoo!!)

On losing stuff on livejournal. Fuck!!!!

Just lost about an hour's worth of writing because this fucking thing doesn't auto save. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! It has happened soooo many times now and I've just had enough. I'm used to using my WP package that auto saves and doesn't put me through this hell every time I need to get the words out of my head. I reckon I'm going to start writing into my WP and then pasting to here, if I can be arsed. Honestly LJ, this is just so incredibly annoying and I'm really really angry at the moment.

Writer's Block: A Little Light

Now that the election is over, we can get to the important stuff. Why is there a light in the refrigerator but not in the freezer?
I must have a posh freezer, because mine does have a light in it. However, it is incredibly temperamental and also masochistic because you have to hit it for it work. Useful though when getting ice-cream out as an emotional fix and you're needing to give something a good smack.

On Chronic Illness

I have fibromyalgia and am also bi-polar. The depression is something that I manage every single day and some days are harder to manage than others. I can get really manic and bonkers and my brain goes berserk and if I'm in company I can wind up talking at a few hundred words a minute, which apart from being very embarrassing, is extremely exhausting!!

When I'm depressed I can hardly be bothered to get out of bed and getting dressed is a huge achievement. I have loads of creative ideas, but when I'm depressed I find it incredibly difficult to bring them into reality. Added to that is the pain of the fibro' and the chronic fatigue, and life can be extremely difficult at times.

On Tide and Time

We went for a walk this evening around the Stromness Harbour. The tide was very high, but the water was so calm and glassy that our town's Atlantean twin shone bright upon it's surface. I longed to launch a kayak and float amidst the liquid mirror to watch the summer evening's dusky light dance on the faintest ripples. My feet remained dry but my Soul set sail this evening.

Blogged with the Flock Browser

On The Sting of Emotional Pain

Why, when my body smarts and reels from life's unavoidable stings, does everything feel so strange and unsettled? This icy December morning I breath in the air and it smells unfamiliar and foreign. Like the air in a country you are exploring for the first time. This place is my home and yet I feel like a visitor. Does the root of this 'strangeness' lie in my decade old habit of wanting to shut down and run away every time the pain is unbearable? Has all pain become unbearable? Has my avoidance of intimacy made me so acutely sensitive to all pain, much like my avoidance of wheat has now left me doubled over with agonising cramp every time I let any pass my lips. Surely I cannot have become so sensitised to life that the smallest stone upends my cart and lames my horse? 

I ask the Lord and Lady that I might learn to cope better; To not feel so broken and worthless by the smallest comment. 

Oct. 26th, 2008

Raising children is hard. Very hard. Granted, that statement is no news flash, but the daily reality of guiding my children is sometimes so overwhelming, lonely and unfathomable because I'm not sure that what I think is the right, really is right. What if what I'm doing is very, very wrong? What if my discipline, boundaries, talks and guidance are in fact doing the complete opposite of what I hope? What if I'm fucking up my children?

My sons Callan and Ross are two very different young men. They are both intelligent, studious, sociable teenagers who have a good range of interests and friends. I am very proud of my sons and the young men they are growing up to be. However, there are things they do that break my heart. Callan can be very hurtful and dismissive to his younger brother, Ross can be so harsh and judgemental of his brother and others (and no doubt me when I can't hear).  When I say it breaks my heart I mean that it literally causes pain in my chest. To me this hurtful behaviour is not only disrespectful of others, but more importantly, disrespectful of themselves. They are 'abusing' themselves and their spirit by indulging in this meanspirited behaviour, and also because by behaving like 'jerks' they are teaching others to treat them as jerks.

I explained to Ross this evening that although it may be easier to put others down simply to make yourself feel better, it is far better in the long term to find out what it is within yourself that makes you feel inferior or inadequate. Two things can happen: you can find a quality within yourself that you're not that proud of and so choose to change it, but most likely you'll find that it's all bullshit and that there's nothing to feel inadequate about. Those people who criticize you and put you down are merely compensating for their own inadequacies. Once you realise what their agenda is you can write it all off as bullshit and find your validation within your own self and not from outward, superficial things.

I hope he understands and is able to shield himself from the peer bullshit. It's not easy, in fact it's sometimes near impossible, but, from my experience, if any of us want to stay sane and true to ourselves, it's the only way to live.

Begining in the middle

Welcome to the World of 'On'.

I am 3 days away from 40, have finally saved enough to buy myself a gorgeous laptop (an item I have been looking forward to for over 10 years), and am now predisposed and able to empty out the contents of my head without having to pry my Boys off the PC. Heaven knows who'll read this. Perhaps only me or perhaps many. Time shall be the judge of that.

I've decided that my fortieth birthday shall not be a non-event that slips through the quiet of night unnoticed, but rather it shall be akin to the wayward but adored friend who turns up on your doorstep at 2am, hammered,  then throws up in the neighours shrubbery before descending upon your home and sofa (a couple of friends in tow), to tell you tales of debauched but screamingly funny antics, then trashes your kitchen whilst making an incredibly scrumptious cheese and bacon ommlette for you and your new  friends, which you all wash down with that bottle of really good red wine you've been laying down for a special occassion. Dammit, if ths isn't a special occassion then what the hell is!

And so I am currently in the throes of planning The Party. It is billed as a Birthday/Halloween/Housewarming party and I'm inviting all my mates and a good few folk I like but don't know that well.  The Boys friends are coming to and fancy dress is encouraged but not obligatory. Much preparations to be done still, but, weather permitting (currently force 9 gales and horizontal rain), all shall go well.

So this is entry number one. Much cerebral spewing to follow...