In the quest to understand "me"

32 years later, I still don't "get" me.

I love people, and helping people, and anything I do that will benefit someone else gets done really well; but when it comes to something for me, forget it! I can cook, and I suspect the only reason I do that well, is that Like it or not, I have to eat.

Before I continue here, let me state, I'm certain I'm not depressed.

My home is a bombsite. It's only truly tidy when someone's coming to visit and returns to it's bombsite status within a week.

My garden? well, apart from when I sit in it in summer, it's an overgrown weedpatch, and even in summer the barest miminium gets done.

Am I an oddity, or do other people feel this way too? I'm just thoroughly confused as to how I can work myself to the bone caring for people and yet not be able to do things that mean I'm caring for me.

Got to go to work now, but this has been pestering at me all weekend. I want to understand myself a bit better, do things that will benefit me and not just because someone else needs it done.

What a waste.

I'm not sure how to put this into words. How do you cope with knowing a friend has killed herself? Why did she feel compelled to do that to herself? To her family? What will her widowed husband do now? What of the children? They are going to grow up knowing that they were not enough to keep her going.

On the note of death and suffering, I refuse to even think of what has been happening in Israel and Gaza. It's so far beyond my comprehension, and there is nothing I can do to change what is happening there.

I'm stunned at how my day has changed course. I woke up to brilliant sunshine, and enjoyed proper coffee in bed, did lots of housework and then called my family. In the course of those calls my mindset has totally changed.

I'm sorry this particular post has been so bleak, but I had to put the words down somewhere, if only to stop them going round and round inside my head.

I cried

I couldn't help myself. I was watching the ceremony at the Cenotaph on BBC1 this morning.

I know it's important to remember. I know well the phrase "to forget the mistakes of the past is to repeat them"

That said, I couldn't help but have tears in my eyes to see the old men in wheelchairs, who have been in POW camps; the teens among the groups of older soldiers with a row of medals on the right side of the chest - a testimony to the fact that their parent served and died, that they no longer have a parent; the women who wore their husband's medals.

It hurts, you know? How people are prepared to obey orders even if it means they may lose their life, and the people who have what it takes to give those orders. I find it hard killing rodent vermin that get brought into my house. Trying to get my head around the fact that there are people who have to be prepared to kill others in the protection of freedom is beyond my comprehension.

Rant over. On to better subjects.

I'm having a David Attenborough overdose today, mostly because I can't see anything else I fancy, and the opportunity to see the natural world from my sofa is not to be missed. I can own up to being able to watch something other than EMHE and the news!

I've managed to get all the laundry done, and the washing up is getting cleared, but my hands are really wishing for a dishwasher, or more specifically the space to put one, so I don't have to do the dishes by hand all the time! Oh well, I can keep dreaming...

Small children are great

I love babies and small children. They remind me of what life is like before reality invades and spoils all the innocence.

It might sound like an odd comment to make, but it struck me all over again that I love small children today when I was in the chip shop waiting for my cod and chips to finish cooking. The lady in front of me had several children, and the youngest was in a pushchair. I guess he must have been around two. He was hungry and tired, and really didn't want to be in town any more, and was letting the world know at the top of his lungs!

Well, there was nothing for it but to crouch down and see if I could help him stop crying. I have no idea whatsoever why or how it happened, but in under a minute a screaming child who just wanted mum to take him home calmed down and just watched what was going on around him until mum gave him a chip from his freshly served meal.

I don't know if it's a gift, calming children; but if it is, I'm well grateful for it! I just wish I had a few children of my own and didn't have to practice on tired children in the supermarket while they wait for mum to finish paying!

On the other hand, a few of the other mothering talents would be great to have too; like having the motivation to wash up before things reach the stage of recycling the last cup for a week. Laundry's never an issue. It's almost a compulsion. I have to have clean sweet-smelling clothing. Tidying up is another major on that I managed to miss out on too...

Healing for my soul

I heard such an apt description the other day "a drop of oil on the ocean, a part but separate"

I have spent almost my whole life feeling like that. Attending Church but feeling like the odd one out, attending school but definitely feeling like the odd one out, at work and always feeling like the odd one out, I got married and still felt like the odd one out. I didn't bother going to the pub after the marriage broke down because I was sure I'd just feel like the odd one out. Just reading that back makes me want to cry for my childhood. I have no idea why I felt that way, but I did.

Last night, I played on FaceBook. At some time during the evening my eye fell on the section where friends are listed. At that point there were 133 names listed. All I could think was that all these people had accepted me as a friend because they liked me. There is something about me, something I do or did for these people that means to say they want to be associated with me; no matter how I feel about myself.

That realisation made such a difference. I matter to people, maybe only because I smiled at them at work, maybe because I wasn't rude at school, in some cases just because I was able to stop their child from crying! I went to bed happy last night.

So, if you want to meet me in the pub, just say so! I can face the world happy, because I've concluded that people like me, so it's OK to like myself.

Thanks everyone, I like you too.

What's important

This week I finally had television hooked up in my house for the first time in three years. Having lived without it that long I wondered what I would do with it, how much time I would spend watching and how it would change me.

I've discovered some very interesting things. I've discovered that I can't do without being up to date with the news at least twice a day, and if there's nothing better on I'll leave the news rolling. I've also discovered that while music channels are all very well, the programs I love best are the ones that show the goodness of man to his fellow man, inspiring everyone on to help and give hope to those without.

What's important to me, I have discovered, is not knowing the latest weather, or who has been shot, or who has gone bankrupt. It's knowing that there is still a spark of desire to give back hope, to help, to get things moving again.

Pay it forward. The idea of having had help, you give help to someone else who needs it, and then they do the same for someone else, rather than trying to repay the person who gave the help in the first place.

For those who really want to know what inspired this train of thought, it was Extreme Makeover Home Edition, originally made and broadcast by ABC. Helping people who couldn't help themselves and inspiring other people to do the same. I really can't think of a better thing to watch on a day when the week has left me limp and tired.

Giving is it's own reward. It changes the giver as well as helping the givee.

Keeping warm

It's been amusing in the last few days. I'm talking about the way this house has responded to the changing weatherover the last week.

Cat J has climbed into bed with me every night because of how cold it has been. I put a second duvet on the bed as well as wearing socks. I'm determined not to put the heating up; it's bothering me that I had to put it on at all, so it's set to about 18C; and if that's still not warm enough, more clothes and warm drinks. O and J both are less keen to go outside now. It may be due to their age as much as anything else, they used to happily go outside in all except subzero conditions. It isn't that cold, but the cats are keen to stay in.

I repaired the magnetic closer on the catflap today. O and J had managed to pull it off completely a few weeks ago, and while it was warm out that was fine, but now its getting cold (and frosty in places) its not so good.

I'll be making chicken soup later today for my lunches for the next week. I happen to particularly like it as it's filling and warning and it's half an afternoon of cooking followed by 3 minute microwaving sessions daily per portion - added to which, O and J love chicken skin! (warm house occurrence alert!)

I also need to get some laundry done in spite of the fact that there is going to be torrential rain later today and overnight. Also, I need to shuffle the living room around so that the television has a proper place to live, particularly as the people are coming from Virgin to "plumb it in" so to speak.

I'm looking out of the window while I drink my tea, and noticing the colour of the silver birches in the hedge. They are stunning, all that colour. Add the rising wind, and there is something of a blizzard of dried leaves going around outside. Musing a little here, I think I love autumn and winter better than spring and summer. The scent, the colour, the changing temperature, the challenge of dealing with the changing weather; I love it all.