Transition

Hoping For Something Better

Kind of ecstatic that this horrible clusterfuck of a year is about to meet it’s own end. But there ends my anger. Because New Year is my favourite time ever.

An end to one thing and the beginning of a new chapter. And the chance to start again. Year after year after year. It’s the cleverest thing society has come up with.

Although 2018 turned out to be almost totally painful, it really wasn’t a wasted year. I got to look after my Mum. I got to build some rickety looking bridges with my brothers. I confirmed that I have some fucking excellent friends. And realistically, that’s more than enough for me to get by.

2019 will perhaps bring different challenges. Finding my foothold again. Trying to stop those ropey bridges from disintegrating. And keeping everything else’s head above water at the same time. But when tomorrow’s bells finally strike for a new year, there’s a magnificent chance to hit reset. So I hope to leave a lot of the shitty stuff behind me, where it probably belongs.

That’s enough positivity from me though because… just fuck 2018 entirely. And the scabby horse it rode into town. I hope it rots in a million tiny pieces. You may consequently hear an eerie tapping at the stroke of midnight tomorrow, please do not worry or feel alarmed. It’s just going to be me dancing on this crappy year’s motherfucking grave.

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Ho Ho Hoe!

To Absent Friends…

A very short little blog today. Happy Christmas wherever you are and whoever you’re with. Thank you so very much for reading my piffle and claptrap, however occasionally, but please remember the most important thing about today. Which is obviously, just pace yourself. Tis a marathon, not a sprint. I’m off to spend my day with loved ones and whilst I’ll be missing those who can longer be with us, there’s really not much for me to feel sad about at this time of year. Best wishes to you all for today and virtual hugs for everyone Xx

NB: Virtual hugs are a bit like the real Santa.

…. and fallen comrades

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Transition

Lexicon

Put simply, I like words. I like being able to use them correctly and I like knowing what they mean. Most of the time. Not today though. Because there is knowing and then there is Knowing with a capital K. And the one word that describes everything just now is Forlorn. I now know how that word actually feels, it isn’t a great place to find yourself.

I’m only just starting to allow myself to fully comprehend the loss of my Mum. So it’s more than likely the grieving process gathering momentum. But now I find myself wishing the grief would crash in like a tsunami and let me get it all over with all at once. Inconveniently enough, it just doesn’t work like that. Although being swept away by a tide of tears is much more appealing to me than the current range of emotions gnawing at me. With their sharp little teeth.

I’m typically West Of Scotland in my emotional alphabet though, which means I run smoothly all the way between A and B. So finding myself adrift on an uncharted C of feelings isn’t something I’m at all able to cope with. And I don’t like that. I prefer to have all my hatches battened down. Which I really currently don’t. So I’m a bit lost. That is, I suppose, maybe just exactly where you’re meant to be at only a few weeks in.

I’m fully aware that there are supposed to be 5 stages of grief. I’d always envisaged them as being entirely separate entities. So far that’s not the case and I can as easily wash up on the shores of Denial in the morning, as Acceptance in the afternoon and Depression in the evening. Along the way, I’ve worked out that Grief is not a linear thing. It’s far too expansive for that.

Which leaves me very much treading water metaphors until I eventually find something to anchor myself to again. And in all likelihood, that’s something I’ll find in words. There’s words of comfort and words of hope and optimism left to look for. Forlorn is just a word I’ll file away again at some point. But I like words. I like knowing what they mean. And it’s good to have a word for exactly how you feel. Because then there are words that mean precisely the opposite. And 2019 will be about paddling towards them.

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Medically Speaking

A Small Achievable Dream

Inching ever closer to Christmas and what will be a difficult first one without my Mum. I had hoped she’d make it to the turn of the year but life isn’t always able to give you what you hope for. And there’s really not much you can do about that.

But there are still always little things you can do that might help someone else and one of those is currently sort of close to my heart. Which is supporting the Dreamlab project.

It’s a project which seeks to use the untapped computing power of our phones to tackle millions of research calculations into solving cancer and making better use of existing drug resources. And the only thing you actually have to do, is just charge your phone.

There isn’t a catch. Whether you download it or not is up to you though, it’s available for Android and iOS if you look. I lost both my parents to cancer, 21 years apart. It wasn’t any easier the second time around and I do hope you go your entire life without feeling it’s touch. Statistically, that’s a high hope indeed.

But my main hope with this post is that you maybe do download it. Maybe you even mention it to somebody else and they do too. And maybe lots of those tiny calculations means eventually someone else sees another Christmas because we understand more about treating cancer. Think their hashtag says it best #sleeplikeahero, it’s not rocket science to know that’s a good idea.

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