Pandemic – Entirely Unlike Tea

“Try not to offend and unnerve!”

“How can I put this in a way so as not to offend or unnerve.” Yes a Prince Song (Gett Off)

I am going to attempt to write this thought piece so I do not offend or unnerve someone. But, I am not the thought police, so in my clunky way I am sure in my attempt to articulate this and not upset someone, I can guarantee I will most definitely upset an individual. I actually may not even post it.

I would like to say firstly I am not racist, or homophobic or elitist (writing this, does this then make me all these things?). I believe in kindness and love to all. I really do not give a shit, as long as you are a good person. I also have to be honest that I am sure there are many things I do or say that are “wrong” in todays inequality era (which is much needed) I am sure I do many things like using the incorrect term, it is a minefield that is forever changing and its terrifying, because I despise making another feel inferior.

I am a white, 43 year old female, I was brought up in England (which as a country when it comes to race and equality are further ahead than America). I went to school, I was never hungry or homeless and I graduated college. I could afford to buy my first car by working 2 jobs and my parents are still together, I am straight – I am in fact a tick box of white privileges’ (a term that has been thrown at me before, as an derogatory term, by a single white male) – I understand my life has been easy, I have never experienced multiple attacks for the amount of melanin in my skin, or where I have come from, or poverty and I feel guilty, yes guilty. None of the above is my fault, my skin color, my upbringing, I was lucky, very lucky. Yes. I have to defend my upbringing not to the individuals who have never received my start in life, but other privileged white people. It is from the white people, working so hard to be correct, politically correct, to make the changes, to do the good, to fight the good fight, I get it, I welcome it. BUT, this is where I may OFFEND, what if by zeroing on what is deemed the difference, you are making the difference greater, by trying not to make it a difference you are strengthening this invisible divide, by saying I don’t see color, race, sexual orientation you are dismissing it , the thing that makes a person unique, IS them. What if we acknowledge the friend is bisexual and ask Qs, learn, love, try? What if we can joke and laugh about each other and our uniqueness. On the flip side, what if we work too hard to see it, make a VOCAL point of accepting and acknowledging, does that also make it wrong or racist, I really do not know anymore. As a kid of the 80’s life is so very different now!

I personally believe, color, race, sex, sex preference aside, we simply help those less fortunate than us. Those in poverty, the worlds greatest divide. We need to love, be kind, help, help, help, forge friendships. Yes, I admit I have never experienced true hardship, but I have been taunted and followed down the road, had fireworks set off through my letterbox due to my sex and skin color. I have had my bag snatched down a dark alley. I have been called weak due to my sex, too sensitive because of my sex. I have had my ass grabbed, been jeered and followed by men down the road in the dark. I had a “Me too’ moment.

I am now going to apologize for saying this!

Society has made me feel guilty for the lack of “bad” moments in my life. The lack of pain and poverty. I share them to say, I understand a little and it is not fucking fair that some people have a better start in life. That the world is cruel, ugly and nasty. But in amongst the forest of hurt, there are glimmers of light and hope on the horizon. See the difference, celebrate the uniqueness of each person. Love the person inside, not its shell. I have dated black men, bisexual men, straight men, I have kissed women. This is not a badge of honor, I am sure I am not formulating my point well, but I loved them, because of the person they were, how they made me feel, I saw the beauty of the soul that cared for me and loved my skinny, white ass. Am I a wrong for sharing this, I do not know anymore? I give my thoughts to say look beyond the skin, the height, the background, the sexual preference, the glasses, the hair color, dress sense, music tastes, dance moves. Love and nurture the soul lying beneath the layers of societal rules. America in particular has made this all so muddy.

I also am not writing this for some poor, confused white girl sympathy, but to formulate my feelings during an everchanging movement. I love the change, but it seems so complicated. Why can adults not look at humans like a child does, simply, open, accepting and all encompassing.

Privilege – I understand I have it, I didn’t ask for it, I do not want to apologize for it, I accept it. But, I need to use it to help others. But, I also need to know who created this, it wasn’t society, it was a higher power. What was it based on? Fear? Need? Power? Religion or all of the above. Who decided one group was better than the other and WHY ? “Stamped From the Beginning” the book by Ibram X. Kendi is a good place to start.

I will surely continue to have moments when I will apologize for my life, I will experience white guilt, I will flounder in saying the correct term, I will upset unknowingly, I will try hard to do the right thing, to say the right thing. Sadly, I can never know what it is like to be in someone else shoes, walk someone else’s life. I will never feel your struggles or pain, only my own, as we are all merely human. We are all unique packages of life, delivered on to this earth to take root and bloom. Whether it be a daisy, a oak tree, a willow, a rose, we all search for the same thing, the sun, rain, ripe earth to feed our roots. To seed and release ourselves back into the ecosystem, the ground, the soil. We can all be hurt, bleed, cry, laugh, reach for the sky and fly. In a world of individuals, I think the greatest gift I can give my boys is the ability to unite, not fight. To know there is no “NORMAL” but happiness . I always ask them, “What is normal?” who decided on those rules? Society? Religion? Pollical leaders? NO – no one, as that term is obsolete, not required, we do not need to be the same as the herd, we need to be ourselves and proud. To give the best of “us” back to others, to lift others to their dreams and fly amongst the stars searching for the magic of each other.

Unhindered by the guilt of our uniqueness or the guilt of being the same.

Open and Unashamed.

As always, I will start with a caveat.

I write this piece not to generate a circle of shock, sympathy, or embarrassment. I write this to be honest. To allow people to lift their heads and look away from the shame of difficult moments in time. To know that experiences no matter how terrible, hard, or heartbreaking should not be hidden. Do not conceal emotion because it might make the other person uncomfortable. Or hide beneath its cloak of darkness, as this will only shield your light, and dull your emotions.

Experiences are factual, they happened, and it is fucking OK to share what hurt, as much as what made you smile. Life does not define you, it created you, experiences educate you on how to live, about good people and bad people. It teaches you that you are strong, and from each uncomfortable act, a flicker of kindness can be ignited. Allowing you to reach out from under the suffocating blanket of mortification.

Most of you know my story. I have always been extremely open, probably to the chagrin of many. But it is my survival tactic, once I have voiced it, it can be looked upon, analyzed and allowed to float away. I mean, It is not like I walk up on a first meeting and say… “Hey, I am an anorexic, I have been depressed, self-harmed blah blah blah”. NO! Shit the only person I did that with was with Kieron, as I thought he was way too nice for me and could not believe he genuinely liked me. I thought I could scare him away. Instead, he told me he loved me.

Here is my list in black and white. Know I am not ashamed, yes these things can be hard, but I also know that many people have gone through the same and hold on too tightly to a guilt that is not theirs. I know many who have been through excruciating experiences and they have survived. Like all of us with baggage, they continue to live and love their lives as best they can. Especially on the days life allows that freedom from pain.

In Chronological Order: –

~At age 6 I was abused by a man in my parents’ circle – the details are not needed, my parents now know, and are heartbroken. It is no ones fault except his. It was a long time ago, and it was from that moment life started to hit me hard. It created so much pain that I have diligently had to work through. I acknowledged it in my 40s with the help of a Psychologist, and then a heavy wave of relief flooded through because everything now made sense. I am not ashamed, I was angry for long time and I cried a lot, but this was not my fault.

~Therefore, at age 9 I developed a severe eating disorder. This is why I purposely hurt my body, this is why men frightened me, this is why I was in and out of hospital, this is why I was 2 weeks from death at age 10 (malnutrition) this is why I was told to stop running, and this is why I do not like my body. But I am not ashamed, I know exactly what I am.

~I had a “Me Too” moment. As a female I know most of us have. I am not ashamed.

~I do not like my body. I am like a spider, I have no breasts. I have learnt to understand and appreciate my body. It does not mean I think it is pretty.

~I was told when I was age 12, I could not have children. But with time, hard work (on myself) to get to a good weight, at age 30 I had my first period; yes, my first. I went on to have 3 beautiful boys. My body is now a machine to me, but it is amazing, if defied the odds, my hatred, and gave birth to life. I am not ashamed.

I lost a baby. This broke my heart and it still hurts today. It was extremely early in my pregnancy, but it hurt, it hurt so much, I felt like my body had let that sweet baby down. I am not ashamed; we do not talk about this ENOUGH as women!

I developed crippling anxiety at age 34, I had panic attacks often and they were not rational. Each day I woke up thinking I would die from a heart attack, or a meteor would wipe out the world, we would die on a plane, in a car, I struggled to do anything. The boys have seen me collapse in a ball crying, Kieron has had to listen and try to understand why I rushed myself to ER when I thought I was dying. This is where my running has helped, my anxiety improved with my discovery of abuse, this is not my fault. Medication and hard, fucking hard exercise have been a life changer. I still suffer today and that is OK.

I have been taking Prozac since I was 10 and I have seen multiple Psychologists. – I am not ashamed

I AM NOT ASHAMED, and I will NOT apologize for writing this.

This is me. I feel that people who go through this and more have something to give back. They have a light you must see, they have a light to share, they understand people, they are there to hug you hard when you hurt, to listen to you when you are sad. Because they know. They are not weird, broken, or damaged goods. It is those cracks that let you SEE THEM, to see their heart. They can help you; they can love you “right” if you let them, do not turn your back or hide, they will never judge you.

We need to talk about all these topics and more, so much more than this tiny list. People are out there being hurt, discarded, and forgotten every second of every day. Open you heart, your arms and experience and tell them – “Please do not be ashamed, I understand, and I am here for you”.

SMILE

That beautiful face creased with a grin. Oh how I miss thee oh bountiful smile (yes I love Shakespeare). Shrouded by cotton, the mask that hides a million beams. I yearn for the eye cease paired with a lip lift, a teeth glint and merriment in the pupils. I long to see a whole face with all its nooks and crannies. Cheeks I can see turn into apples with mirth. A cheek, a brow I can caress softly, if it is allowed. Those lips I could kiss, if I would choose and it welcomed. Oh if they were not so abruptly hidden from my view. The proud chin and noble nose swaddled from a worlds welcoming horizon.

The smile is what I yearn to see,

Encouraging heart ache and angst to flee.

A crinkle of nose, a crease of lip,

Can make my cold heart flip.

The lightness of the face,

When the teeth are given space .

To grin at you with such cheer,

Oh that sweet smile, how I miss you dear.

Love Kelly

The Kids are Alright!

Yes, that is a quote from “The Who”

It has been a long, yet weirdly short eight months.

Eight months ago, in a land far, far away (come on, we all love a good fairytale! No?). The Joy family ventures off merrily, on their much anticipated Spring break jaunt. Skiing. Snowmass, Colorado, here we come!

Then BOOM Coronavirus hits, as our esteemed President likes to call it “The flu from Chi – Na” (I still crack up when I hear him say this word!). We finish our week skiing – Snowmass shuts down. We spend a weekend in Boulder, restaurants shut down, we have to queue to get into Wholefoods, but then I feel like that store does love to make you feel slightly unworthy of shopping there. Toilet roll – SOLD OUT, Sanitizer – SOLD OUT, any semblance of liquid soap – bloody SOLD OUT. Finally the axe fell, schools closed their doors, and we were banished to our basements. Sitting in the gloom, bathed in the deathly glow of a subpar laptop and harangued by a wealth of teachers. Who really had no fucking idea what they were doing (no criticism intended) just stating facts.

AND there we all were festering. One overwhelmed, anxiety driven mother; I seriously thought we were all going to perish on a daily basis. A “at home” working husband who is always on an important call and then add three small dragons (boys) lost in the ether, breathing fire at us all. EEEKKK

Spring Break was looooonnggg.

Time marched on and we have had to all learn to be together and let me tell you that this is by no means easy. Ummm I like my own space, I like to not be constantly watched, asked for 30 million snacks, water, toilet roll etc etc. I do not want to be responsible for trying to keep the kids online and on top of that actually learning. All I wanted to do, was to let them swim and watch old movies, if only if it was to experience a little peace.

We had screaming matches and fist fights (kids). Blood was spilled, furniture broken, glasses smashed and usually over the minor fact that someone had tapped their fingers a little too long. We have learnt to be tolerant of each other’s annoying habits – OR NOT, mainly NOT. I spent my days trying to keep them quiet, while daddy held down a job. Then, if that was not hard enough, we decided to just pick up and move all of us from Florida to Colorado. That was clearly not easy or stress free – online schooling came in handy then.

I had to manage tiny people melt downs, from missing friends, hating the “Corona”, wanting to be at school, we have copious amounts of anger and laughter. I have been told daily that I am hated, just for enforcing a rule, which ultimately will make us all better people, or I may have just asked for a small person to help mama and empty the dishwasher. This enforced eight months in each other’s pockets has opened my eyes up to the fact, that the kids truly think I am the dumbest person in the room, that I know nothing and I have been nowhere. When in fact, beneath this dippy looking exterior of mine I am the ONLY person in the room (remember my kids are all boys of ages 11, 8 and 5) who has a upper class degree in Sports Science, was in the academic top 10% of kids at high school and travelled the world in her 20’s. But still to these three boys I know nothing. Deep breath Kelly, calm and collected… Be nice, be nice I tell you woman.

The months drag on/fly by and the kids are still home, still no school. My house looks like an elephant has stampeded through, I have mountains of washing tall enough to rival Mount Washington, I have given up on homemade food, my hair looks like a birds nest and I have aged at least 10 years. Seriously, no judgement please, or at least silently in your head.

Tick, tock, tick, tock ……. Another month trips by, summer in COVID passes, vacations are cancelled, family is missed. Yet, new adventures and friends are made.

Then on one glorious sunny Colorado day, announcements are made – THE KIDS CAN GO BACK TO SCHOOL. My heart lifts, the kids scream for joy and they are all rapidly booked for a haircut, as I am currently in possession of three very shaggy bears.

Our freedom is returning, we can all start to stretch our wings and break free from our family nucleus. As much as I have been extremely worried about the children, we have all learnt so much, yes even dumb mummy and we all know how stupid she is. 🙂 We have learnt to be –

Tolerant of each other.

To care for each other always.

That we all love to watch 1000 repeats of “Jessie” and the “Simpsons”!

That you can truly never have enough ice cream.

That the impact of an action has a profound effect on the group, good or bad.

That we genuinely love each other.

On that note my eldest (who is in school two days a week) has just come out to inform me, that there has been 340 days of Coronavirus thus far.

So, after eight months at home together we are relishing our time apart. You see, my friends do not think I am an idiot (I hope not). Everyday I am living, loving and relishing, as we all know this could all change tomorrow. With another lock down, another spike, and we are thrown back together. These eight months have also taught me that my kids are alright, I am alright. That with all that can be taken away, we can still love each other, hug, be silly, dance wildly and learn to be silent, together.

I have to admit there had been a high chance of serious injury and maiming with my crazy kids all together, but they are definitely ALRIGHT!

Love hard, live with ferocity, care for others, laugh a lot, adventure with intention, be silly, hug when you can and always, always be kind.

And you will be just fine.

Love dumb mummy. ( I think that upset me you know 🙂 )

HAPPY

What does it mean to be happy? What does it feel like? What is the physiological response to feeling happy? So many questions. In the dictionary it means :-

Definition of happiness

a: a state of well-being and contentment : JOY

b: a pleasurable or satisfying experience.

For example it brings me great Joy that Joy is actually my surname (last name)

Even the word H A P P Y makes me smile. Despite that, I do have a huge issue with happiness, and it is not with the warm, fuzzy, nurtured state we experience. But that society seems to expect that we should be ‘happy’ ALL the DAMN TIME. To say otherwise is a social hand grenade, that will surely make you an outsider.

For example, lets say a friend comes up and says :-

“Hey, how are you? or “Are you happy?” They are probably just feigning interest in your well being, which ultimately makes them feel good, or they are using it as an opener to a conversation. Let me caveat now, that I do know that this will not always be the case. In short the acquaintance will expect you to say “yes” or “I’m good” but what if you go “well, no actually I am having a really bad day”, or “I feel awful and sad and I cannot stop crying. ” Now, that throws a spanner in the works and the friend, colleague, acquaintance, family member have to actually show up and either care for you or cringe in the shadows wishing that the rawness of your reality will disappear.

Why is it assumed that we have to be happy and content all the time? We cannot truly enjoy, accept and relish in happiness if we have not felt the sadness, the discontentment of life, real life at times. Have we not all experienced heart break, loss, hate, discontent, a harsh word, mental abuse, physical abuse? Yes? No? These things do not evoke the feeling of happiness or a warm fuzzy feeling, it will not envelope your body and fold you in the arms of bliss. No – It hurts, it makes you weep, it can make you angry, your heart may ache in sorrow and may never fully heal. It is from these moments of night that a light can break through, it enables a person to see the beauty in the ugly and rise above the discord, a goodness can filter in. The touch of a lovers hand, a letter from a friend, a child’s cheek against your own, the sun on your face, a cool breeze in your hair, the view from a mountain top, a promotion, a call from a family member, diving into a pool, running through a field of grass. And it is from those sweet, miniature moments that happiness blooms spreading internally and externally, a pure, honest, golden haze of joy.

The world is built on equilibrium, each and every feeling, action and thought has an equal and opposite. Harmony is built on opposites, without experiencing one we cannot embrace or understand the other.

To feel happiness is the ability to also feel and appreciate sadness. To love someone gives us the ability to experience loss. To live life, makes us appreciate how it will be to experience death. In my heart of course I want to feel happy, I want you to feel bliss. Yet, there is something so honest, liberating and open about feeling, accepting and appreciating what it is, to be sad. I appreciate it when someone is open and expresses their pain, it is brave and strong and is truly living life to its fullest. I learnt from a very young age that to live my life with emotion was freeing, to allow people to see it, was honest, and I was not lying about who I am. It also gives me the super power to be truly and unashamedly feel HAPPY.

So the next time you ask someone “How are you? or Are you happy?”, please be open to the fact they may not be and really need to share. Embrace their pain, see their pain and allow them to feel and help to put them back on the path towards JOY.

Love Kelly

Dreaming to the Edge.

I was in an expansive mood as my feet hit the path and I started my run this morning. Where I run, it is very beautiful and the path stretches out, twisting, undulating into the canyon with its thicket of trees and cascade of rocks. At this precise moment the sun was grazing the horizon, a red wash was tinting the clouds and illuminating the path.

The path, it was the path. Follow the path.

I had dreams as a child of going to the moon, becoming a brain surgeon, running in the Olympics and being an explorer. As a young adult, I was a travel writer, a famous fashion model an international fabric buyer. I dreamed big, I speculated and formulated with abandon, there was no reason why not and there were absolutely no boundaries. Today, I am still a whimsical, go big or go home fantasizer. I am a fairy dreamer, a dance in the moonlight dreamer, a stand on a mountain with my arms spread wide romantic. I truly daydream hard on a daily basis, it is my favorite thing to do.

But, that path. Follow the path.

As a child my path was long, narrow and winding. As a young adult, I became lost on my path and decided to wander, choosing to experience and feel new things. As a semi grown up it gained many mountains to climb. Now, as I languish in middle age, my path has suddenly become short. Over the next horizon I can sense the end is there and in a few more years I will see the very place, where my essence, dreams and wishes will cascade off. Tumbling into the energy filled ether of nothingness. Crashing into a land I cannot quite see, but can always feel its presence.

My dreams loom ominously and they now have less time to become real. I know many of my “what I believe I am here for” beliefs or my “what I came to accomplish” ideas, will fizzle away. Lost to the air, when in the not so distance future I will close my eyes and they will stay sealed together, under a star filled sky, never to reopen. It was in a moment, mid stride, sighed out with each exhaled breath, that I knew I must keep striving for the magic, reaching for those carbon filled sparkles in the night sky. Because, just like my dreams those stars even though now dead in their universe, still light mine. My dreams will not die, they will shine to the next small child, who reaches up, curls their small fingers around my desires of the phantasmagorical and believes that dreams can come true.

Go little one, go and do great things. Follow your path and become the star light you were created to be. Now shine and shine brighter than I.

Love K. K Dreamer Joy

Why must we attack?

I would like to point out that I do not start this post from a place of anger or righteousness. Nor from an assumed higher stand point on race, religion, politics or whatever else people seem to beat each other up over, demean, belittle or try to persuade to change, using noise, anger and hate.

BASICALLY, THERE IS WAY TOO MUCH SHOUTING, not enough action and a bucket of ANGER. Everyone seems so volatile and they are turning on friends, groups, tribes, peoples feelings and thoughts. It seems at a time when we need to love harder than ever and join together, the lines are drawn, the boundaries are built and are getting taller by the day.

As, you may or may not know I am a bit of a social media voyeur, I mean I LOVE social media. I occasionally try to have an online opinion / voice, usually resulting in me getting severely burnt, crushed and then I vow never to do that again. Plus, I truly do not want to add any more fuel to the rabid fire of discord that is sweeping around us.

I scroll through Facebook over breakfast, and watch as individuals are publicly attacking each other on race views, LGBTQ opinions and thoughts, whether you love or hate Trump, whether you are red or blue, whether you are religious, not religious, believe in Coronavirus or think its a hoax. If I were to list my credentials that would potentially cause a online put down or hate fest, I would be :-

Race views – “black Lives matter”, yes I know all lives do matter, but as a white person I have never had to fight hard to be secure in the knowledge that my life matters. People of color do. Yes all lives are precious but we need to fight the point that black lives matter, to even begin to get their lives to the level of an “all lives matter” discussion. Does that make sense? Because, as a white person I know my life matters, and that has never been suppressed or disputed. Like EVER. I mean, can you imagine what it must feel like to not feel equal, just because of the amount of melanin your skin contains.

LGBTQ views – Just be you and be happy and if that means loving a boy, a girl, boys and girls. loving no one, changing sex, being fluid, being asexual. JUST BE YOU that is all. Everyone, should have the freedom to be what the fuck they want to be, no judgement. Period! I really do not understand why anyone would have a problem with it?

Politics – I cannot vote, and if I did, it probably would not be for Trump. Yet the economy before Coronavirus really has never been better. I have lots of Republican friends and lots of Democrat friends and to be honest it is OK to have an opinion and I will not try to change it by shouting. I am also not educated enough in that realm to really have a valid opinion or stand point. Yet, I agree, take the POTUS’s volatile Twitter account away.

Religion – Not religious, agnostic yes. Please do not try to change me, and I will not change you. But know this, I truly understand why you have a faith, that sense of belonging and security in thought, must be so grounding.

I believe in science, so I believe in Coronavirus and I will social distance, wear a mask and wash my hands.

OK if you need to release the boiling fire inside you, go-ahead you can use me to release it. I will listen and then walk away. As, I have always told my children, if you shout at people, no one will listen and or hit you. Yet, adults are still screaming at each other. WE NEED TO LISTEN, care for and then listen again to each other. We do not have to agree, but we need to respect views, listen some more and talk rationally.

WHY SO MUCH HATE? Is it from fear? I feel like the underlying commonality is terror, living in the unknown. We have a pandemic that does not abate (wear masks people). We have race movement that is generating change, giving voice and bringing us all up to the line to move forward as a whole, single body of people. Yet there is back lash, riots, bad elements that whip around all the greatness that is achieved, minimizing it and creating a discord, disharmony and chaos. People retreat and fall silent for fear of being attacked, verbally or physically and once again change is halted. We crawl back into our electronic holes of safety, desensitized to the life around us. Not accepting the movement that wants to propel us forward into the light, instead we allow ourselves to shiver in the dark, remaining terrified and angry. We surely cannot continue like this. SO please .

LISTEN to your neighbor, you do not have to agree.

LOVE your neighbor, even when they are ass holes.

LIKE your neighbor, see above

LIVE through kindness, as kindness is stronger that hate.

And if they shout at you, just simply walk away in silence. Because, a silent word is a powerful one.

Love Kelly “lets be chilled” Joy

Body Slammin!

Yes, it is quoted from a Prince song (love Prince).

This week in Kelly’s world, I ran head long into an emotional wall of everything. The stress that I have held so tightly hidden in the dark recesses of my mind, finally exploded out and blinded me. All sense of rational fell to the wayside and I lay there raw, burnt and exposed like a flapping fish, flailing in the mess of my cerebral matter. OMG I love being dramatic.

First up – I am so fucking tired, secondly I am so fucking tired and thirdly my kids always have to tell me something urgently at 2am – SOOOOOO FUCKKKINNNNGGGG TIRRREEEEDDDDDDDDDD.

Let me also say that as a family of 5; this includes 3 small boy fire breathing dragons, we decided to move across country, which technically is like driving across 6 countries to a completely new state. There we are shadows of our former selves, jacked up to the eyeballs on gas station fayre and we rock up to our new abode with no friends or family. All of this is achieved, slap bang in the middle of a pandemic. Stupidity, springs to mind in hindsight, or maybe lets just rip the band aid off, really fucking hard! OUCH! Anyway that is what we did, armed with masks, disposable gloves, a whole bunch of excitement and gung ho, All Griswold like, hammering it through in 28 hrs. and a Harry Potter Audible.

We arrived, we unpacked, we melted down. BOOM

Well I melted down and it keeps sweeping over me in waves of remembrance for the excited high of the “Let’s do this war cry”. Now cometh the slump, the loneliness and the inability to meet others due to social distancing. I know I should be stronger or pretend to be, but, I am not sorry that I am not. Because you know what it really is ok to feel, to be sad and to accept those feelings and then move on. So, I will sit uncomfortably in these emotions, look upon them, feel them, nor hide or run away, I will let them wash over me and float away. This may take 2 days, 2 weeks, 2 months, but they will go and I will emerge having learnt something about myself. That I am a fucking, selfish cry baby, but at least an honest one. But, if I cannot do that, the sadness will eat away at my brain, that then stops me eating and I will become ill again and I cannot do that now, because I have a husband and children who need me.

So if you are sad, be sad, angry, be angry, but share and you can always share with me.

Love, Kelly “it is ok to be sad”

Sometimes I just do not want to….

COPE.

As the Rona drags on people all over the world, either in lock down or social distancing at home are rapidly starting to fade. At first everyone was all gung ho, fighting in unison, fighting the good fight, the right fight. Joined in one goal, united to save the world, unnamed heroes for the weak, compromised and elderly.

We were strong and shiny, relishing in this new world of change and as they say “a change is as good as rest”?

However, time has creeped on and some poor souls are still navigating lock downs and the rest of us are social distancing. The shiny patina is cracking and the levels of distance are getting closer, as people become bored, tired, depressed and sloppy.

I hold my hands up, I may be one of them, letting the slide begin. My hands bleed from the amount of times I wash them and they hurt, I want them to stop hurting. The new life is now OLD, our resilience and stoic determination has turned into a secret longing to escape and break all the rules. The slide of darkness has begun and the depression and anxiety I fight so hard against, are digging their tiny little claws deeper and deeper into my skin and are beginning to break through to the bone.

I’m tired and the anxiety is knocking hard at my shell. Every day I fight off a little panic and then another panic waves over and my breathing gets short and I am convinced the virus has come to drag me to the nearest hospital. A mist settles, stubbornly at the periphery of my vision and I see the world through a haze. Nothing is clear and all is obscured. I want to run hard, to run far and hope I can out run my fear. I want to drink to ease the adrenaline, but my eating disorder will not allow it. Because, walking hand in hand with my anxiety is little Miss Anorexia and she can be very persuasive; albeit a very slow runner, as she does not eat enough. My tools are in place and my sanity understands the whirlpool I peer into, trying not to dip a toe in and get sucked into oblivion.

I need to get out, we need to escape. The world needs to be released, to conquer fears and viruses and figure this shit out. I am a shadow, sucked dry of trying to be fun, positive, creative, a good mum, a caring wife, a thoughtful friend. I want to be selfish, self centered and just walk out the door, not to come back for a day.

Sadly, the days will continue and I need to figure my crap out, look at it, accept it and see myself for who I am. Slightly damaged goods with a time well earned, super hero cape, that floats all glittery and shiny over my broken core. I know my life is not as bad as others and I am not sad. I am just trying to cope, the only way I know how and if that includes a 20 mile run, a eating disorder and a few panic attacks, that is mine to own and I will not apologise for being honest about it and showing it to you. It is my gift to you, to share, to reveal and to understand your feelings are yours and yours alone and no one else is allowed to minimize them and tell you they are irrelevant. They are yours, a gift of your strength and for you to release the burden, as this can lessen the pain. I am here to take that for you and relinquish it with mine.

I am exhausted. I am your friend, I am honest, I am raw, I will not apologize.

Signed

K. K,” so over being good” Joy

The lost HUG!

Today, I dedicate these heartfelt words to the elusive hug. Oh where for art thou sweet hug? Unbeknownst to me, you have been ripped from my bosom, tossed away and fed to the COVID lions, all 19 of them. As they roam our fertile, overpopulated earth, feeding off our vulnerabilities, locking us up in our homes to stare at four stark walls, listless, lifeless and hugless.

SO hugless. I am not a talkative soul, I communicate through written word or with my physical being. I can still write, so here I am writing – SURPRISE, but I have not touched another person (my husband and 3 squirmy boys, are not included here) for 5 whole weeks. No hug, no hand shake, no kiss on the cheek, nothing! Just 6 feet of heart wrenching emptiness, yawning like a chasm, petrifying and unobtainable. I never knew how much I needed that type of connectivity, that feeling of closeness. Now please do not get me wrong, I do not go around bear squishing everyone I meet, but the people I care for, share time with, who open up to me, share moments with me, I want to express my delight with them. My deep soul love for them and there is absolutely nothing sexual about this at all. It is all about occupying, unifying a space and handing them my trust and devotion to our friendship, in a neat, hug sized package.

OH that delicious hug, the feeling of my cheek on your shoulder, the heat against my skin, the complete safety of being enveloped, for a brief tiny moment into the safety of another. Heart beats tick tocking in unison, thrumming tunefully together. A glimmer of a soul can shoot through and then be lost as you pull apart, in the unspoken knowledge that you have both shared something deeper than a spoken word.

I count down the days until I can share freedom with another human being. Supping coffee, running together, sitting close and chatting, hugging, tight squeezes, brief grapples, a peck on the cheek and head on a shoulder, just being close to a person you want inside your 6ft bubble.

I miss you dear hug, please come home soon.

Love a very sad K K Joy