I'm only human.

Hey,
I have been adding to this post bit by bit and have now decided to 'finish' it. It is a mixture of my feelings about people leaving me and my social habits.

To me the main theme in my life seems to be people- leaving me in so many different ways, I often wonder whether there can be anyone else that will leave, when I get to the point where I am certain that is it and that I am safe froim desertion another goes and leaves. The most obvious are my aunty pat and matt who died, but then I have my dad, part of him was lost in the accident he had, my gramps, part of him has been stolen by the stroke, my mum, we were close once before and now I see her as nothing and no one except a woman who stirs up anger and hatred within me by simply speaking. Kirtsy my old best friend moved to new zealand. Ali a very good friend who I used to rely on alot, who helped me through alot moved up country, we hardly speak now.

I dont put blame on any of them for leaving me they either had there reasons or it was simply fate. But after a while you begin to wonder whether your worth having people in your life if leaving you is all they seem to do.

When I feel worthless I feel like I am worth no ones time, and if I am honest I push people away, ask them to just leave me alone for a while, and sometimes I never do get back the bond I had before I told them to back off. So I blame myself sometimes for drifing from friends and pushing them away.

Each time someone leaves I try to think you've mananged to cope with it (even if in some totally inappropriate or difficult way). So why should it matter if someone else leaves me?? But then it happens again and its a kick in the stomach. You can see it coming and there is nothing you can do, but you have got time to prepare for it and perhaps these arent the worst losses. But the worst are when you are not expecting it i.e Matt. That was such a shock I expected to see him again- whether he would be angry at me I dont know but I wanted to keep and eye out for him in town- and I still do now.

I get fed up with people leaving me and perhaps thats why I find it so difficult to really trust people or get to the stage where trust becomes an issue. I dont like the process of making new friends, but I like having friends. It may seem like I want to not put in any work but still want the outcome! I promise its not like that.

I never have been one for having lots of friends- I have drifted in and out of friendships all my life. Out of character or routine social events actually scare me and make me nervous. Even simple things like shopping or going to the cinema- I start to panic and get worried, I have always known this was a 'problem' but never really stopped to think it through but lately it has gone through my mind alot. I am not a socialising person, I stick to my safety zones, my routine and don't like anything out of the ordinary. I get scared and feel uncomfortable and insecure very easily and very quickly in unknown places, or around unknown people.

I wish I could somehow crack this but it has been with me ever since I was little I never got to go out because I lived in such an isolated area, and I guess that just stopped me. I have not experienced it before so I am still in the mindset of a little girl doing things for the first time.

I have never really spoken to anyone or told anyone about this, and for some reason lately it has come into mind. Someone once told me it could be a social disorder but I don't think it is. I don't know enough about them to say yes or no.

My Grampys Stroke

Over a year ago my gramps suffered a mild stroke, it was caused my high blood pressure which triggered a heomarrage in the back left side of his skull. It happened on a Sunday afternoon and I remember getting the phone call, it is so clear in my head. I was lying on the sofa, I had got home from work about an hour ago, we had done 22 lunches, and I had just sat down and put on mums dvd collection of Roots. I had been wanting to watch it for ages, and Richard was down with dad and mum was on the other sofa asleep. I remember the phone ringning so I paused the dvd and ansered it. It was my dad, he asked me if mum was there and she had told me to say she was in the bath because she didnt want to speak to anyone so I said no she is in the bath why? He said well Gramps has gone to hospital, we think he's had a stroke like John did ( a friend of ours who also has a mild stroke) I remember saying Oh my God and saying is he ok, is it bad, asking 101 questions basically. By now mum had worked out something had happened so she grabbed the phone, she had thought something had happened to Richard. Everything after that was a rushed blur, I remember going upstairs grabbing my harry potter book, some pyjamas and my teddy. I had got stuff together so I could stay with gran because she would be at home on her own. After that we went straight down to my grans and stayed with her, mum went home in the early evening whilst I stayed there all night.

The next week consisted of visiting the hospital, crying alot, lots of unanswered questions and when they were answered they were answered untruthfully. They said it was to protect me, I was 14 years old, I am the girl who was told at 5 years 'Daddy's had an accident and he might not be coming home' (Another story). I could deal with this for goodness sake, but no they wouldnt tell me. So he was allowed out the following friday, he was still seriously affected by the stroke. He wasnt my Grampy the person lying in the hospital bed, with bags under his eyes, greasy hair, bad breath and B.O was not my grampy and I refused to admit it.

My gramps is one of those old wise men, you know the kind that have an answer for everything you ask a question and not only do they answer it they tell you that little bit more as well. As far as I was concerned he was the smartest man in my life, he knew everything. But the stroke depreived my gramps of that wisdom, it was snatched away from him. Seeing my gramps talking like a 4 year old, not remembering his name, sounding as though he was going senile and getting so frustrated and angry with himself. He never got embarrased he had the best comebacks ever he would always laugh it off (genuinely) or never let a situation embarrass him. When he couldnt remember names, places or even us he felt ashamed, guilty and embarrased.

I understand that he was extremely lucky, it could have been much worse. But I am angered by the fact that out of all of the things the stroke stole from him it had to be his memory and wisdom, it was what made my gramps it was his tool for life. It allowed him to communicate with people, drift into his thoughts endlessly and of course pass his knowledge onto his grandaughter and grandson, who were always desperate for his stories of the olden days, his clear yet complex explanations of contreversial issues and the simple things in life.

I loved him so much, and of course I love him now, even more so than before, but I can't say that, I love a different person now, and I would much rather have this different person to love than no person at all but it is still so difficult, to look at someone you thought you knew inside out and think who actually are you now??

Since the stroke I have made a conscious effort to hug him and tell him I love him everytime I see him and everytime I say goodbye. It was a wake up call not only to us but him as well. He was a very fit 70 year old often walking 8-10 miles everyday 'just for fun'. He was a real community man, garden shows, village committees, parish councils, bell ringer at the church, competition judge, event organiser, and he was the first person to be awarded a lifetime acheivement award in the village. As you can tell I am very proud of him, but the stroke was a sure sign from his body telling him to simply slow down. Which in all honesty he has.

I am angry that the stroke has taken away my gramps, yes its selfish I know that, there are some without a grandad, but not only do I hate the viscious thing called a stroke but I worship a thing called life, not my own by any means, but that wonderful, inspiring, knowldegable, caring, kind, considerate and in my eyes perfect man's life. He is still here, but very often anger can over power joy, hapiness or any positive thinking. I want my grandad back, its not his fault I dont blame him at all, I don't know who I blame which makes it even harder, I want someone to blame but the only thing can be the stroke, thats not enough for me.

I'm struggling in a game of tug of war. On one end I have the barely there feeling of joy and hapiness- my grampy is alive, he is relatively well considering what he went through and on the other side the strong, 100% exisitent grief and anger- I havent got my gramps and I want him back.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Hey,
Okay the last few days have been such a build up for me.

So that's what this post is going to be is an introduction about my anger, my frustration the fire inside me that the last couple of days has been so difficult to hold down.

First of all I will describe my anger, and what it does to me. Alot of the time I get angry in what you could call unsuitable places, at school, in exams, when its really quiet, at work or just somewhere I am unable to express or get it off. You will often find me with clenched fists, its me its something I do, I can't help it. I don't know how often I do it, but when I really do it I know about it because I can feel my nails pressing into my skin. When I get, what I would describe as my 'attacks' of anger, I clench my fists, clench my teeth, have to consiously stop myself from talking (from fear of saying something horrible or inappropriate.) I sometimes start to shake, and literally feel taken over by the power of such an incredible feeling. I understand that some people would use this to their advantage, for example when angry because they cannot achieve something it gives them motivation to try even harder and complete it, I admit I get angry when someone tells me I can't do something and end up promising I will no matter what it takes. But when you experience this overpowering feeling so often its hard to like it or use it to your advantage because its so intense and simply horrible that I dont like it.

Someone once told me when you can accept, like and love your anger you can begin to control it, I really have tried to believe this and apply it to myself but it just doesnt work for me unfortunately. I feel like screaming and shouting, lashing out just jumping around, punching, hitting or kicking anything within reach that will withstand the almost adrenaline like anger running through me.

So during one of these 'attacks' I tried to work out what it was that was angering me what suddenly made me flare up in the middle of nothing, for no apparent reason, it was simular to the fact that i can suddenly crash and feeling dangerously down at the flick of a switch, so that gave me my first clue in searching for what was angering me. I discovered before that feeling down was due to burying down thoughts and events that had happened, filing them away and vowing never to touch or talk about them again. So I figured to start of seeing whether the things that made me down also made me angry. I wasn't suprised by the fact that there were many things that did both. I was recently emailing someone and I described some of the things that made me angry, and I have decided to list them here and talk (or vent) about them one by one, the list may be fairly long!

• My grampy's stroke
• My mum
• Pressure of school
• Perfectionism and not being able to control it
• Unable to deal with things
• Being scared
• My health
• Decisions
• The depression
• Wanting to escape- and not being able to

So yeh, I guess theres a fair bit there, there are other odd bits but they tie in with the things mentioned above. I will be doing individual posts I think on each 'bullet point'.

xxxxxx