Word for Wednesday (W4W) #38


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Play along here!

This week’s word is…

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Apparently I suffer with this affliction.

The OH subscribes to the basic premise that “people are cunts” and that the world is not a friendly or good place.

If this makes him the North Pole then I am the South.

I am Lesley Knope and he is Ron Swanson.

*I believe that people, for the vast majority, are inherently good, strangers are just friends I haven’t met yet and that the world is full of love and potential to be even better.

He looks at me with a mixture of sadness, affection and wistfulness when I say these things, as if it would break his hurt to burst my bubble. He tells me I live in a bubble most times; a place where everything is lovely, where good triumphs over evil and where everything always works out in the end.

My bubble has been somewhat burst of late, and it saddens me.

Recently, I have witnessed people being utterly selfish and cruel, not giving so much as a thought to how their actions impact on the lives and feelings of others. I have experienced it first hand and watched helplessly as people close to me have had the same things happen to them. It makes me doubt my philosophy that people are good, that the world can be a kind and happy place.

Why are people so mean? Why? I have always opted to believe people’s nastiness is borne from their own feelings of sadness or insecurity and they feel a need to spread their misery around. I still think this could well be the root cause of people being horrible to each other but I am less inclined to let it slide anymore.

If you are sad, have had a horrible day, or feel bad about yourself, that does NOT give you the right to make anyone else’s life more difficult or unhappy. If you feel bad either ask for help, find way through or do whatever you need to do but do not take it out on innocent bystanders. Trust me, you will not feel better in the long run by infecting others with your misery.

You do not rise higher by putting other people down.

I am going to try very hard to maintain my inherent belief that people are good… I refuse to be dragged down. I will not join the OH in his opinion that “people are cunts”.

If the only thing I can do to help him and other people I love deal with the shit that life throws at us all is to be their Little Miss Sunshine then that is what I will do.

This world needs people to believe in beauty, even if it’s hard to see sometimes.

The world needs us deluded dreamers. Don’t you think?

Ciao!

💋

*footnote: Buzzfeed is never wrong!

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Copyright, 2015, k1kat.com
All rights reserved.

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My Demon


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This sums me up.

I have an insanely self-destructive nature. Always have had, for as long as I can remember.

I self-sabotage, self-harm, repeat mistakes whilst fully aware that I am doing so. I drive myself, (and people who care about me), crazy.

I have one massively self-destructive habit in particular that I simply cannot seem to shake off.

My Dark Demon.

I am aware of it; actually, it takes up far too much space in my head every waking, (and frequently dreaming), moment.

I know I need to stop it. I need to confront it and deal with it.

It is detrimental to my health and well-being, emotionally, psychologically and physically.

I have tried to fix this on my own with zero success but I am loath to seek any help from outside.

Why? I do not know.

I tend to think I am a strong person with most aspects of life. I have overcome more than my fair share of adversity and survived.

I generally have this attitude to life:

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But this one thing lingers.

Sits on my shoulders and weighs me down.

I feel unable to find that power within myself. It feels impossible. Hopeless.

I know this week is not the week I will conquer this demon, but I truly hope I’ll get there… sooner rather than later.

💋

Copyright, 2015, k1kat.com
All rights reserved.

Writing this was meant to help me focus and work this out. Seems I have failed at that too!

Vengeance Be Mine!


Around 8.30 on Saturday morning the OH, the two pooches and I sat in bed, drinking coffee and flicking through various social media sites, (well, the dogs were just lying lazily curled against each other, we discourage them from drinking coffee). I heard some strange noises; scraping sounds and we looked at each other. The noise set the dogs off and they leaped off the bed in furious unison, barking and tearing around the place in a haze of white fur. Yelling at them to be quiet, (which never works!), we tried to listen to the noises. I saw the flicker of a magpie through the window on the landing and we agreed the noise was being caused by birds. No worries then; time for breakfast and getting ready for the day ahead…

Making breakfast, the OH called me over to the window to see one of our garden chairs which had mysteriously moved away from its resting place against the patio table and was down at the end of the garden against the back and side wall. We wondered if the wind had been strong enough the night before to have pushed it across the paving. I popped out to take a photo to share with my twitter buddies, captioned, “the mysterious case of the moving chair”, because, you know, I live my life on twitter 😏.

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We left the house before 11am to walk the dogs. As we approached the house on return we noticed our garden gate was open, which struck us as very odd indeed. On closer inspection it wasn’t just open. It was wedged open with a rock that we keep on the inside of the gate.

Our eyes met and I can honestly say my blood ran cold. Someone had been in our garden!

We went into the garden to see if anything was amiss. At first, apart from the chair, everything seemed normal. Then I heard, “Fuck!” and looked at the OH, followed his eyes to the lock on the shed door and froze.

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We thought we were doing the right thing by investing in a good padlock for the shed bolt but it never even occurred to us that the padlock was completely impotent and redundant. The scumbags that broke into our garden simply unscrewed the catch on the bolt!

We stood in disbelief, looking at the bolt. He went to open the door and I braced myself. He went inside the shed and I asked if anything was missing. He looked around and I heard the relief in his voice as he said his über fancy professional grade drill was still there. Something still felt wrong to me and as I looked at him standing in the empty space of the shed it hit me… it should NOT be empty. It should have a very decent Carrera mountain bike worth €400 in it.

“Your bike!” I exclaimed and his jaw dropped, “Fuck! Jesus my bike!” his hands flying up to his forehead in disbelief.

He called the police at once and they said they would send a car around within a couple of hours. We talked about when it might have happened. Neither of us could recall if the garden gate had been open when we left the house to walk the dogs, as we had used the front door and not had any reason to check.

Then we remembered the noises that morning… Had we sat in bed listening as some rotten toe rags broke into our shed, wedged our gate open and simply took the OH’s bike? The dogs had barked but our dogs bark at anything and everything, so we think it was a case of “the boy who cried wolf” in this instance. (Or the dogs that barked burglar?)

Some red bricks that edge our 9ft boundary wall had been dislodged on to our lawn, so we figured they scaled the wall, scouted out the shed, used my garden chair to have a look into the surrounding gardens, wedged open the gate and made off with his bike.

Sunday morning came and still no police car, so we paid a visit to the station where the duty officer took our statement and details and promised to send a Scene Of Crime unit to our house. They arrived on Monday morning, took a look around and said there was no evidence to gather and that we should keep our eyes peeled on Internet buy and sell sites for the bike.

The OH is, quite naturally, down about the whole thing. He is annoyed and angry that someone thought they had the right to break into our personal space and steal something he had worked hard to earn the money to buy. He is furious that I was made to feel vulnerable and unsafe in my own home. He questioned why? What makes people think they have the right to do that? I didn’t know what to say to him. I do believe in Karma and I honestly think people like that will get their comeuppance in one form or another. I refuse to believe people who go around engaging in criminal behaviour can be truly at peace and happy in themselves.

So, to be honest I am not sure I can be bothered to scour Internet sites looking for the bike.

It’s gone. It’s over. It’s done.

Incidentally, I asked the police how we could make our boundary wall harder to get over. Knowing that the old practice of embedding broken glass at the top is illegal now, I enquired about the legality of anti-bird spikes to be told that I needed to check with my house insurance company regarding our public liability first. It seems I can legally put the spikes up, but if, whilst trying to break into MY garden, over MY wall, the thief injured him/herself on the spikes they would be fully within their rights to sue me.

There is something very, very wrong about this!

Ciao!

💋

FYI: why the title of this post? The bike was a model called Carrera Vengeance… go figure!

And no it was not insured! Our insurance company had informed the OH that because of the excess charge it was going to cost him more to insure the bike than not. Oh look! there’s our €400!   💸💸💸

Copyright, 2015, k1kat.com
All rights reserved.

Letting go…


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Wise words indeed.

So simple.

So difficult.

Have you ever felt completely blindsided by “stuff” you thought you had dealt with, only to discover you had in fact merely buried it?

Do you find it easy or difficult to ‘let go’ of things that have hurt you?

I have recently been ambushed by feelings that I truly thought I had dealt with, that have hit me full on with a force I have been left shaken by. This has caused me to struggle daily with feeling angry, sad, betrayed, isolated and confused.

Some experiences I’ve had of late have repeated patterns I hadn’t even consciously realised existed. It was in reflection as to why I was feeling so very betrayed and angry, that I realised the things that had recently happened, in fact mirrored several experiences from my past. The fact that the betrayal came from the same person who hurt me before made it all the harder to cope with.

I questioned how could I have not remembered things like this had happened before?

How could I have blocked it out?

How could they do it to me again and, maddeningly, how could I have let it happen?

I confronted the person head on. Many harsh words were exchanged. Following several long days and nights of fighting and discussion, in equal measure, he came to acknowledge and understand the patterns we have followed for so long. I agreed to forgive, but not to forget again.

This hurt I was carrying was not serving either of us.

I thought I had built my bridge and gotten over it…

Nope!

In a sudden flash I find myself back feeling hot, fiery residual anger. My vision clouds over, my blood pressure rises, I begin to feel serious, murderous rage.

What the fuck is happening to me?

Why am I unable to let go of the hurt?

Am I simply an unforgiving, malicious cow? Am I the bad person here? Am I merely drawing out the punishment?

Or do I maybe not trust that I will not the betrayed and hurt again?

Perhaps that is the crux of this issue. Is it really possible to ‘let go’ of hurt, if you do not feel safe and secure that you will not be dealt the same blow again?

When trust is broken, can it ever be truly, one hundred percent, regained?

I understand it is my responsibly to either grant the person another chance to prove the mistakes of the past will not be repeated, or to decide the trust is well and truly gone. That scares me.

So, back to the quote that started this post…

Can I let go of hurt? It is not serving me well.

Do I want to?

Am I ready to?

How have you guys and gals coped with feeling hurt and let down? I would love to hear about your experiences.

Thanks for taking time out with me.

Ciao

💋