Bleugh, wibble, etc

Christmas.

What joy.

On one level, I like Christmas.  I like the message of light in the darkness and all of that stuff.

On another level, ouch, it's a recipe for nothing but heartache.

I'm no longer going to go into all the details of *why* it's a recipe for nothing but heartache.  That was my plan when I started writing.  But then John 1:5 came into my head.

And there is Hope.

The Light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it

Wibble

Not for any particular reason, just plain wibble.

I'm feeling wibbly about going to Moorlands next year.

I've been aware these past couple of days that I am single and that has actually been the word I've used to describe myself.

I've felt mildly lost with longing when our new student, when desperately triangulating the various relationships at church, made the fairly reasonable assumption that the guy I was sat next to at the quiz last night was my husband.  No, I do look similar to his wife but she wasn't there and I don't have a husband.

I'm outright *craving* hugs and cuddles at the moment.  I just want to cling on to someone so that the world disappears.

I really want to come in from work after a long day occasionally and have someone look after me.  Not to have to put the next load of laundry on.  Not to have to work out what I want to eat for dinner.

I miss the insanity of the Flat back in the days when I never knew who was going to be here when I walked in the door.  I hated it at the time because Little Miss INTJ just couldn't cope after a long week at work but now I miss it.

There's still more thoughts stuck in my brain, about hugs and friends and the smell of aftershave and the feel of their shirt and accountability and longing and mutually snuggling into each other's necks while hugging in a technical platonic fashion (using "platonic"as the adjective there amuses me because of how I know said friend and the different belief difference involved. Perhaps storge/phileo-ic would be a better description!)

 

Loneliness

Loneliness is a complete bitch and I really wish that it couldn't get it's claws into me in the way that it sometimes does.

I really dislike coming home from a lovely sociable sort of day to realise that I'm a bit too tired and now my brain's going to grumble and crave cuddles and attention.  Come on, how long before it realises that such things really aren't an option any more?  I am single and will be for the foreseeable future. I have absolutely no interest whatsoever in laying myself open to that level of pain and heartache ever again.

And that's my final word on the subject, tonight at least.

A long day

Please note, it's been a long day today and I'm more than pretty sure that everything will look better in the morning.

I don't know how to start this post.  Do I start with what prompted it?  Do I start with how I felt?  With what reality looks like at the end of it?  With what I want reality to look like?

Today's reality is that I can smell my friend's aftershave on my hair after he hugged me and it's causing me to feel almost homesick.

At this moment I want someone to call my own so much it almost hurts.  I want to know that I can get in from the office at 7.15pm and that someone will be there to cuddle me.  I want someone who'll keep me safe when I'm feeling vulnerable.  I want to be able to be able to look after someone else when they're feeling vulnerable.  I want someone who can follow my tangents and ramblings and keep up with them and anticipate them.  I want in-jokes and laughter and made-up words and silliness and to follow someone else's tangents to the point that words and sentences are all mixed up and are tumbling over each other and that no one else can keep up. I want my hair to smell of their aftershave and to be able to smile because it's marked me as theirs, in the same way that a tan-line under a ring indelibly marks me as theirs.

I want all of the security of being in a long term relationship without the pain and scaredness and heartache and freedom of letting down the barriers that I've built up.  I know that's not going to happen.  I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I've got to learn to put God first before He'll let me anywhere near a relationship that would be any good for me. I know that, as Paul says in one of his letters, it is better to be single so that you can devote your whole life to God rather than having to share time between God and your family.  I definitely know that, if that is God's long-term plan for me, I'll go along with it without too much grumbling. 

The Helen version of broodiness

It's felt almost taboo at times discussing this here.  It's felt almost taboo discussing it at all.  I don't know why.  It's easier to pretend that babies "scare me"; that I don't know anything about holding them; almost that I love my life too much to every want children of my own.  Kids are lovely in small doses but it's so nice to give them back after Brownies or whatever.

I've been talking complete bullshit for years.

Once upon a time, when I was engaged to a guy galled Phil, we assumed that we'd end up having two, although more likely three, children.  We split up when I was 23 (unless I'd just turned 24, June 2005 at any rate).  (Wow, was I young!  I didn't feel it at the time though.).

I was 26 when I met Gav, 27 when we started going out and I assumed kids would happen at some point.  That was before I realised the full repercussions of his kidney disease and the drugs he was on.  There was a possible genetic element to some of what caused the kidney disease in the first place and there was no way that he wanted to pass anything on to any future children.  Let alone any possibly side effects of all the drugs he was on and the potential reality for me of being both carer for husband and mother of toddler.  By this time, I was willing to trade the chance of children for being married to Gavin.  It took time to deal with but I had decided that happiness with Gavin was worth far more to me than the chance to have children.

Then he passed away.

And because of my choices and what life's thrown at me, I'm 31, unmarried and childless.  Everyone I can think of that's my age is either married, has children or both.

I'd be talking even more bullshit if I said that I've never considered what life would be like if I hadn't dumped Phil.  I learnt a lot from that relationship but we were both still young and didn't have the experience to make it work properly.  Reminding myself that, had we stayed together then, I could now be getting divorced (he would cheat on me during rough patches rather than talking to me) while working on a PhD at an overseas university and looking after a small child or two does help to put it all into perspective somewhat.

I was sat with a couple of friends and the baby of one of them at lunch today.  I've always taken a step back when the baby has been passed around for cuddles before.  I've had a stinking cold and haven't wanted to pass it on.  I've been just on my way to set something set up.  Then their puddings came out before mine so it made sense that I'd end up holding him while they ate.  And he was so happy on my lap that his mum asked if I'd mind watching him while she ran the other friend back to work.  And he was still perfectly content to be bounced up and down while she was away and then the older ladies at café started on the age old "you do seem to have a way with babies, Helen".  Even my Grandad who was there was also teasing me about it a bit.  Ouch.  Perhaps I've spent too long pretending that I'm happy being child-free that they don't realise that I consider myself to be child-less.

I would love to have a child or two of my own to cuddle, tell stories to and to watch grow up.  I just haven't got to that part of my journey through life yet.  I still can't believe that I'm never supposed to have children of my own and I do wonder how I'm going to cope if God really wants me to be a children's worker.  Yet, if that's the way God wants my life to be then that's what I'll live with.  I'm sure that there's a psalm that says it perfectly but in the meantime, the Rend Collective Experiment's "The Cost" works perfectly as a prayer/answer/statement of why I'll get through it.

I'm saying "yes" to you,
And no to my desires.
I'll leave myself behind
And follow you.

I'm counting up the cost, and He is worth it.

Writing stuff down so then I can't get locked in an argument with myself again

Potentially, that sounds a smidgen odd as title but I've just reread Carpe Jugulum and I can kind of understand Agnes and Mightily Oats arguing with Perdita and "Bad" Oats.

You see, the thing is, when you're single and don't live with close friends or family and also lack close friends and have apparently acquired a whole host of trust issues along the way which don't combine well to make making close friends an easy task, you end up having to be ridiculously aware of what sort of mood you're in and you also have to be your own cheerleader to talk yourself out of one of those moods.  And that, quite frankly, is frigging hard work!  You end up stuck in this awful, horrible vicious circle where you try to talk yourself out of it; nearly succeed and so relax for a bit; decide that you're going to have a tantrum and sulk about whatever anyway; attempt to talk yourself out of it again; realise that you're bored and fed up of being your own cheerleader; sulk about (apparently) having no-one apart from your mum to offload onto; sulk and whine again because this is a stupid situation for a 31-year old to be in and generally exhaust yourself like an overtired child.  And you know what was probably at the root of tonight's pity party?  I had a busy day in what is still a new job.  I forgot to factor in the usual crunch of mental gears when swapping from admin to kids' club. A minor thing really, and one I can easily learn from but for any number of reasons, I instead chose to make it the focus of a “you're crap, why are you doing this?" moment which lasted for about 5 hours, on and off this evening.

FIVE HOURS?!?!?!?!

This is where the being alone thing is a complete liability because there's no one to call you out on such a silly waste of time and mental energy.

I'm not a perfectionist.  Things don't generally have to be "just so". However, I am competitive and generally still guilty of holding myself to impossibly high standards at the same time ("I must be top of the class").

Moral of tonight's story?  I need to learn to be much gentler on myself at times!

Small steps and leaps and bounds

Oddly, despite posting this at dark o'clock, this isn't an insomnia-fueled post.  It's possibly still (even 8 hours later) a wine & cocktail infused post, but it's not insomnia based!

Yesterday was a bit of a big day for me for various reasons.  It was the last day of one of our annual week-long events which, while it represents the culmination of a lot of hard work on behalf of a lot of people, is also bloody hard work and we do celebrate a bit when it's all over.  It was my last day at work before my 4½ month long career break.  It was also nearly, but not quite, the day I asked a guy I like out.

I've had a bit of a soft spot for him pretty much ever since I started work in the admin department five years ago.  We've shared a goodly few laughs and moans over tea in the office kitchen or drinks in the pub and via email when we don't get chance to speak to each other that often.  I really enjoy the time I spend with him and so I decided that my last night before career break was the perfect time to get, well, drunk and flirtatious and to see what happened.  The trouble is that suddenly turning all touchy and huggy with him pretty much got lost in the noise of our colleagues being drunk and the hug-fest that ensued.  Somehow, in the ensuing madness of sorting out lifts and taxis and buses at the end of the night, he disappeared before I could could say anything outright.  So, what's a modern girl to do in these circumstances?  Why, when she gets home, she send the guy in question a message on Facebook, "I'm sorry I didn't get to say goodbye properly.  Keep in touch. Oh, by the way, I really like you but don't know if this is mutual".  Long story short, he likes me too but he's got stuff he wants to sort out in his head before getting into a relationship.  Which, from my point of view, is actually a fair comment to make.  While I was just using my career break as a fairly safe point to find our if he is interested, on the basis that, if I made a fool of myself, I wouldn't be in the office on Monday morning, in all honesty, I'm really not far enough away from losing Gavin to male it worth starting a new relationship.  If it was someone who'd just be up for a bit of fun then I'd risk it but he's not that type (which'll be why I like him in the first place ;o) )

So, still single but we'll see what happens over the coming months.