To write – Poem

Weirdly or maybe not so much, poems pop in my head and I write them down. This appeared in the shower today and here it is…

TO WRITE – by KKJOY

When I write, I lose the fight of hiding from myself,

When I write I stand in sight and the façade melts away.

RAW, BARE, EXPOSED,

Watching, alone, my breathing slows.

No one is listening, as no one dares,

As to be real, is to feel, is to care.

Screaming silently to nothing……

But myself. Healing, revealing, everything.

Too harsh a light for some to see,

The reality that is me.

Beautiful, ugly, perfect, ravaged,

Sane, insane, serene, savage.

Yet, when I write, I lose my fight of hiding from myself.

Because, when I write, I stand in sight, façade destroyed to stand true.

Crash landed and it’s not pretty?!?

Fuck fuck fuck! Today, out of nowhere, after 2 years, I had a full blown panic attack. In my car of all places…

I was alone thankfully, No small children were scarred, by my inability to keep my shit together. My heart was skipping beats and had been for 2 days. It feels like it is getting worse and that dear readers, was the catalyst to send me over the edge. Plummetting like a rag doll, back into that viscous, black abyss of brain crushing, hysterical, blinding panic.

I was sobbing, my face was numb, my heart raced the world was blurry and the white noise was screaming, I was hyperventilating and could not stop it, I just could not stop it, so I instead let it crash over me and hoped I would resurface soon.

Side note – Post meltdown recovery to be conducted as soon as functional, sane brain restarts …

I’m alive. I share, to show this is what myself and 1000s of others deal with and this is my way of making this rational, to remove the fear and look at it in black and white and walk away.

Dreaming of a Sunday ?!?

AHHH my day today.. Sundays, a day of rest and relaxation. Supping coffee in a comfy chair with the sun dappling across the morning papers. Birds chirping in the trees as you do your Sunday meditation and yoga in complete silence. Maybe some lazy Sunday copulating with your significant other and a delicious,home cooked meal with a delightful glass of wine…

UM NO FUCKING WAY …. My day… I was woken up at 6am by a naked toddler, playing with his penis, demanding breakfast and shouting “I am HUNGRRRYYYYY”. coffee, was heated from the day before whilst I shovel my breakfast down to the 7 am whine, ” What do you mean no TV, man that sucks, and I’m so bored, this house is soooo boring”. My reply ” well best you go and find something to do”. While I put on 3 million loads of washing and clean the kitchen, make lunches for tomorrow and clear up the 6.30 am painting session you all decided to indulge in.

Then I have to put on my Sergeant Major hat, to conduct peace talks at least 20 times between a 9 and 6 year old as they repeatedly re enact “The Lord of The Flies”, ” other wise I may be watching “Armageddon” or “Fight Club”

Later I cringe under the back handed “you suck’ comments at our Sunday basketball, because I did not bring the right water bottle and I use all my strength and yoga will power to swallow down the wrath of mama building up inside. Instead I weep the whole way home in the car and march them to bed. As they apologise profusely and are heart broken that they have broken my heart by their inappropriate behaviour and rudeness to myself and our hostess….

Now I sit here with the much needed “that glass of wine” Ahhh at least something rang true to the ideology of the perfect Sunday.

The science of being slightly nuts…

My marathon training has now entered week 6 of 16 weeks – so we have 10 to go before I actually try to run my first 26.2 miles (I did the math just in case you could not 😉)

I think I may have become a little deranged. My long run today is 14 miles. I need to complete this before the sun is high enough to strip the skin off my body or reduce me to a pool of water. My running prep is now thus…..

– wake up 5 am (Jesus it’s dark)

– eat a carefully planned oatmeal, with seeds, honey and banana. Complex carbs, simple sugars and protein (check) – as I may just starve on the way round – eating at 5 means. I have 90 mins to get that sucker down and not vomit at mile 6.

– drink a large, fully loaded coffee, a) to wake me up and b) to evacuate the colon and large intestine – so there will be no Paula Radcliffe’s happening mid run. (Google Paula Radcliffe London Marathon shit)

– as I’ll be running at temperatures between 80F and 95F with humidity – I need to drink 7 oz of water 90 mins before I leave. Hydration is key.

– charge headphones – as banging house tunes may be the only way to get through the last couple of miles. Or “We are the champions”, a la Queen. Please do not judge my over 40 year old tastes?!?

– sunglasses – check

– hat – check

– sunscreen – check

– no blister socks – check

– 4 water bottles filled with electrolyte water – check

– running belt – check

– fancy Brooks sneakers – check

– phone charged – check

– Garmin Fenix 5 charged – bugger I need to do that, hold on, – check

– now time to do stretch’s – I am now 41 I need to do this or I may just seize up and fall over. Not cool.

– energy gels for over mile 10, again I need everything I can to do this shit. – check

– oh and the important part, actually pull on shorts and a running top, I’m not sure the world is really ready for me running naked. 😂

Phew I think that’s it ….. Start running at exactly 6.30 am .

Who said this was simple ?

8 miles

Today I ran 8 miles, this was the first long run of my current training plan. Boy did it suck. On paper it should have been a pretty easy run, due to the amount I currently run each week and my body is used to that distance.

Pull on my sneakers, fill up my bottles with water and Nuun electrolytes, earphones in and podcast on. Ready …

6.25 am, the sun is beginning to turn the sky pink , as it peeks above the horizon I step outside and SLAM the humidity hits me it’s like wading through a wet shower curtain that’s wrapped itself around my body and dragging me back. I start to run.

Legs are heavy and I’m sweating like a pig, water is running down my face and oh look that’s only mile 1 completed. Shit, I’m not sure I can do this, Ana Faris is jabbering in my ear, like a chipmunk on speed and I instantly hate her wanton cheerfulness scratching my ear drums. I turn her off. That’s mile 2 completed. 6 to go…..

BOLLOCKS I’m bloody dying here.

I grind it out as it grinds me down. Legs are like “twizzlers” my face a tomato and my body is soooo wet I look like I have been swimming in the ocean as salt collects under my arms..

Mile 8 – COLLAPSE, drag body through front door and am eye to toe with my naked 3 year olds feet.. “mummy why are you on the floor,” ” because mummy is fucking dying!?”

I’m not sure I enjoyed that 95F (real feel) run. No shit Sherlock .

Anxie – tea and biscuits.

I wanted to share this – this picture is of me going through serious anxiety and repeated panic attacks. I look calm and together. Inside I am unraveling and panicking continuously. I think I am going to die… literally! and my mind is broken and fuzzy. The only thing that makes me keep some form of sanity are the kids. Today I have googled continuously the symptoms of a heart attack and any form of light that suggests I am ok? I know rationally it’s my anxiety and I need to breathe and focus and meditate and slow down. But when you are in a pit of overwhelming fear and confusion, it’s very hard to climb out. I can feel it lifting as I take those steps. But it will be a good week before I’m back to “normal”. I wanted to share this picture to show you, anxiety like any mental illness cannot be seen from the exterior. This is essentially a picture of me crumbled and destroyed and barely keeping my shit together… and you would never know. I don’t need sympathy but just an understanding that I am one of many and kindness is key to anyone struggling. #anxiety #mentalhealth #mentalhealthawareness

Beauty

Truly is in the eye of the beholder. We surely do not behold the beauty in ourselves, externally or internally. Women suck at liking themselves.

This evening I sat with 3 girlfriends, all unique, all beautiful in completely different ways and none of them could see it. Gorgeous smiles , kind hearts, rocking bodies, complete sexy packages and not one of them could see it and accept their awesomeness. What creates this self doubt and internal blindness. Society? Men? Religion? Other women? Who said beauty had to look a certain way? What makes that way beautiful ? I want to know? I want to see this perfection! Where is it? Who has it? All of us do? But none of us believe it see .,

It breaks my heart. That so much delight, is not beheld or loved by the person who owns it.

Why? and when will we find it? Secretly in our rooms when no one is watching? After taking 300 selfies to get the perfect shot, we’ve all done it?

Or never?

Or maybe?

But we need to see ourselves for what we are, The great, gross, beauty, banality of our being, accept, appreciate, not always love, but realize it is what makes us unique, one of a kind and no one else has this. It’s special and crazily wonderful.

For Cat ❤️

Aging

Age is but a number? Sure! 

But I’m struggling with my age. It does not help that someone asked me if I was K3s grandma (WTF – I almost punched him) and K1 said “mummy even though you are old, you don’t look old.” I’m not sure if I should kick him or hug him tight.

40 is not old people. It is not even Middle Aged just yet.

Cleaning, screaming, disbelieving – coffee and cake!

When your house is so messy, you do not know where to start and can only begin to panic about how long this shit tip will take to look somewhat liveable.

I look, I fret, I rub my eyes hard, I cannot locate the Hoover, I make a coffee, grab my Vogue magazine and hide.

Favorite dirty secret.

I’ll just throw it out there. We may all lie to ourselves and to every human we meet, but deep down in the depths of our hearts , we all know we share a guilty secret. A secret that can never be voiced, a dirty lie we repeat over and over again, hoping that someday the truth will just Rest In Peace in the recess of our soul. But, it will always be there at the edge prodding you, reminding you, I’ll say it quickly and quietly, “we all have a favorite child” … gulp , shit, did I say that out loud, but hey, there, I said it . STRIKE ME DOWN and don’t fucking deny it, we all have that kid that is truly part of you, who gets you, wants to be with you, loves you like no other, who resonates with every ounce of your body, it’s like they are the other half of what you could have, should have been, a far better you, they took the best of you and made it amazing in their own wonderful bodies.

Of course we all love our kids equally but differently and would split the world apart to keep them safe, happy and nourished, but there is that one who is a little cuter than the rest… now be honest !

I dare you to deny it, we all know in our families who has been the favorite, it’s the adult you connected with the most. I adore my parents but I truly connected with my nanny, my mums mum and yes I’ll just say it, I was her favorite, we were similar and familiar to each other and a part of me is forever missing now she has left this world. 

Love is so present, but it changes, the love of my husband, K1/2/3, damn cat, friends and my family. It morphs and moulds to the feeling and connection you have with these people and YES we have favorites and I’ll never truly trust anyone who says otherwise .

Bloody liars ..