Straight from the heart: 27. When there’s nothing left.

Straight from the heart: 27. When there’s nothing left.

So, the curtain is finally falling on my 18 and half year relationship, with my ex-husband.  Never have I ever thought, that this is how things would turn out.

It is, what it is

All the years of frustration and bottled up feelings and emotions, are coming to an end.  The life that I’ve had to date, is definitely in the past, it is my old history, and I shall neatly pack it away, hoping to never see signs of it again.  The life, that I plan to have, will have no room for negativity or disrespect, instead I aim to fill it with anything that makes me happy.

Excess baggage

There is no place in my life, or in my heart for ex-husband.  I refuse to carry this chapter of my life around like excess baggage, the weight of which would surely see me on my knees.  He has made suggestions that he would like to maintain some contact, but I just don’t have the strength anymore.  Why would I want to continue seeing someone, who has caused me so much pain and anguish?

Maybe he thinks that I may still have some need of him in my life, that I won’t cope being on my own.  But, somehow I figure he’s going to be needing me, he’s hoping that in some way or other, I will leave doors open for him, to come and go as he pleases.  That I will still be there loyal, kind and generous, still willing to help him out, as I have always done.  But I can’t, there is nothing left.

I am not that woman anymore.  I have nothing left for him.  Whatever I had left, has been soaked up and washed away.

Nothing left

I am not sure how I do actually ‘feel’ about my ex, I have no more tears left for him, they were cried out a long time ago.  I know I don’t care or worry for him in anyway.  I know I still bear a lot of anger toward him, yet I have detached myself so much, that he may as well be a stranger.  Any kind thoughts for him have long gone and I grimace at the mention of his name.  I don’t even want to have any conversations with him or about him, unless it’s absolutely necessary.

I certainly don’t want others to keep him alive in my life either, by asking if I’ve heard from him, or telling me they’ve seen/spoken to him.  After all, he is pursuing his new life.  So leave him be.

I just have nothing left for him.  Sx

So come with me
27. When there’s nothing left image 2

Sharon Carter-Wray

(21/05/2015)

Update

Reading this again, has made me feel a real sense of sadness.  Not for what happened or how things ended with my ex, but more because I can still feel the heartache of the disappointment, and the pain I was in at that time.

Next week, will mark the 5th anniversary of starting my life over, and I have never once looked back with any emotionally pangs or feeling of regret.  I know it was the right thing for me to do, but the bare bones of it is, is that if I hadn’t, I really have no idea where I would be right now.

I have a very strong belief that eventually he would have truly broken me.

I would probably have been in dire straits, with nothing to show for all my hard work and achievements.  I would have had no roof over my head, that would have surely been repossessed by now.  Even though I had spent 20 years of hard graft building up something to fall back on, it would have all disappeared.  And he would still have continued to feed on me, until he bled me completely dry.

Sadly, at that time no one really knew how bad I was, I had continued to wear the same face throughout; pulled my sleeves up as usual and got on with it.  I had no choice, because the fight to survive was going on internally.

Thankfully, that is all behind me now.

Now, when I look at myself in the mirror, I don’t just see my face anymore, I see what a remarkable woman I really am and have become.  Sx

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Straight from the heart: 26. At last

Straight from the heart: 26. At last

Today, I think I can safely say we have sold our house; our buyers have already booked to have their survey carried out in a couple of days time.

I am still not sure how I feel about it.  I know that I am excited, but somehow I am holding back on my jubilation, just in case it all goes ‘tits up’ again.  But, I should feel reassured, as they are putting their money where their mouth is; but until all that is done I am finding it hard to really express my joy.

It is really the best news I could have hoped for, I have been quietly praying for this for some time now.

What it means to me

It means that at last, I can finally move on and start my new life, which I have been desperate to start for well over a year.

It means that I can finally start to breathe again, knowing that peace will once again reside in my tortured soul.

It means that I can finally start to formulate plans on where I am going with my life.  I am looking forward to building my new nest, I have been out window shopping so many times and seen so many lovely things, but have kept my hands deeply inside my pockets.

It means, that at last; I can start a new history, leaving this unhappy one behind.

It means, that at last; I will have a space to call mine again, that I can fill with all things pretty.

It means, that at last; I will no longer have to look daily at a face, that has borne me such pain.

It means that at last; I can live a life without someone else’s baggage, constantly dragging me down.

It means at last; I will be free to spread my wings and fly.

It means at last; I can be me again.

Sharon Carter-Wray

(Tues 20th January 2015)

Update:

I remember so well, how I was feeling when I wrote this.  I was literally at the end of my tether; almost at breaking point.  There had been enough false hope, and my ex was playing a dangerous game, because he knew that once the house was sold; he was really going to be on his own once again, after over 18 years of being together.

But, I had lost all trust in him, and knew in my heart that if we didn’t sell, there would be a very good possibility of losing our home entirely.   He was so vindictive and callous, I believe in a way he would have been happy if that had happened, as it would mean he had taken everything from me.  And that is not something I was prepared to do, because he had already cost me a lot.

At last

On April 15th 2015, I moved into my new flat.  It wasn’t in the best condition, but I knew I could turn it into my new home.  I still don’t know how I managed to do it, it was a really difficult part of my journey, because I was so ill, weak and exhausted.  But within a few weeks this flat was transformed.  I didn’t have to buy much, because I’d paid for everything at the house, so it was all mine anyway.  However, I let him go with the bare essentials of furniture that he needed to get going.  And of course, a sum of money from the sale, for which he really was not entitled to, but it meant that we could be over and done with quickly.

To me, it was a small price to pay for my sanity and my health.  Before I met him, I was debt free, then for 18 years I was burdened by his financial carelessness.  Thankfully, I am back in that position now, and there are neither red letters through my letter box, nor wolves sniffing around my door.

But, I can now say that I am happy with my life.  I am happy with who I am, where my life is at right now and where it’s going.  My health is still an on-going concern, but at least I don’t have all the stress to deal with, which was making me so much worse.

I have said for a long time, that there is nothing I want or need, that money can buy, and I stand that by whole-heartedly.  Sx ❤️

Straight from the heart. 26: At last. Image: it's never too late
Straight from the heart. 26: At last

The Princess and the fucking whore!!!

The princess and the fucking whore!!

A man I knew many years ago, once said something to me that has stayed with me all my life.  But it is only recently, have I taken his words as a lesson.

This is me photo
This is me photo

I will tell you from now, that whatever I write today is going to be very frank and bluntly honest, because I don’t know any other way of expressing what I feel.

 An unusual friendship

At the time I think I was about 25, so about 25 years ago, and I did not take offence at what he said, because it wasn’t said to be offensive or to hurt me.  I believe that he really saw into me, and saw something that I still had to discover for myself.  He was a few years older than me, and we had struck up this unusual friendship, that we both knew would never be more than it was.  He was a Sikh, and I obviously wasn’t, but that didn’t get in the way of our friendship.  There was never any question of anything else happening between us we just took it, for what it was.

I remember this occasion so clearly, because we were sat in a local pub, both drinking soft drinks, and I guess he must have been observing me and given it some thought, because he turned to me and said, I quote:

“You could have either been a Princess or a fucking whore!”

A dichotomy

I never asked him why he said it, or by what he meant, I just kind of took it on board and accepted it.  But so many times over these years, his words have come back, resonating loudly through me.  And each time, it has made me stop and think.  The statement itself, is a dichotomy, and as such there is no absolute answer to its’ meaning.  However, time and again, I am given reason to revisit that particular day, and each time I have reached new conclusions, and gain a better understanding of where he might have been coming from.  I don’t actually recall if I saw him again after that, but it is true that words can leave a remarkable footprint. I don’t know whether he knew, that his words would have a lasting impact or not, but I do see the absolute truth in them; which goes to the very root of me.

The Princess and the f**king whore: Photo -Take me as I am
The Princess and the f**king whore- Photo take me as I am

The Ugly Duckling

I have never looked at myself as being some great beauty, in fact I only really became aware of my looks when I reached the age of 26.  I never really appreciated what made me attractive to the opposite sex, or noticed that I had blossomed, until I began to hear what the men around me said.  Throughout school and college, no one had expressed any particular interest of that kind in me, so I never thought I was anything special.  I didn’t look in the mirror and see something stunning reflecting back at me, as far as I was concerned, I was just ordinary.  I associated myself with the story of “The ugly duckling”, that later became a swan. But it would seem that I had changed and blossomed, even though I couldn’t see it myself, and still don’t even today!

General response

I have repeated what this man said, to few people both male and female, only to gauge what they might understand.  The general response from the women has always been to take immediate offence, and the guys are always reluctant to share their thoughts; which has only served to confirm that my own thoughts are right.  And this saddens me, because I have been a victim, caught up in something, that I have only just realised I have unwittingly played a part in.

His statement would suggest that somehow there is a choice to be made.  A choice between being either a Princess or a fucking whore, but that choice or decision does not exist, nor it is one for me to make.  It is made by what attitude the men I have encountered in my life, have of me.  They decide what it is they want from me, they decide, if I am the princess or the whore, and they treat me accordingly.

The princess and the fucking whore! The simple things.. Photo - Quotefancy-37565-3840x2160
The princess and the fucking whore! The simple things..

The simple truth

But the simple truth as I believe it to be, is that I am both.  In truth, I am a princess, but on a romantic level; virtually every man that I have come across has only ever treated me like a whore.  No wonder I have become so disillusioned.

And knowing and understanding this fact, is horrible.  It is not something I am willing to accept.

All my life, I have been in search of love.  True, genuine, sincere and real love.  And yet I have seldom felt it.  I give out enough of it, and get pretty much fuck all back… apart from men wanting to literally fuck me or fuck me over.  Like I said at the start, some of you may think I am being foolish, that maybe I should be grateful for this kind of attention, that it’s a boost to the ego.  But what it has achieved is that all I see are men looking at me, like I’m a piece of meat or plaything, and nothing more.

Dating sites

The princess and the fucking whore! Words may lie - Photo -30dc8-words2bmay2blie
The princess and the fucking whore! Words may lie

The first time I signed up for a dating site, it didn’t take long before I realised that finding sincerity let alone true love, was going to be difficult.  Within a matter of weeks, I said to my friends, that I had a “fuckable face”, not a nice term, but a factual one nonetheless.  I came up with this, after so many men made it perfectly clear what they would like to do, either to me or with me.  They saw me, and just wanted to fuck me, and nothing else.

None of them read my profile or asked anything about me.  But they had assumed that it was okay to speak to me like this, with such disrespect; as though my own feelings didn’t even come in to it.  They were attracted to me, and that was enough.  As though that was all I was also looking for, meaningless sex and ‘no strings attached’ relationships.  Needless to say, I soon put them straight and then some, but after a while it began to hurt.  And if it wasn’t sex they wanted, they put in a lot of effort to woo me, in order to extort money from me, with their sad, sorry tales of sudden misfortune, with which only I could help.  I have come across them all.

Spreading my legs…

On 2 recent holidays, I was constantly harassed by men of all ages, shapes and sizes, all thinking they would have a go.  As if, just a few nice words were enough for me to fall down, spread my legs, and invite them all in.  I never asked for or solicited any of this attention, but I got it anyway.  I had begun to think that I had some sign on my forehead only visible to men, it made me feel quite paranoid.  It made me feel angry and sad.

The princess and the fucking whore. Photo-Inside all of us is a wild thing
The princess and the fucking whore. Photo-Inside all of us is a wild thing

I am sure I am not alone in this, but as a woman it is not a compliment to be made to feel like this. To be thought of in this way, certainly doesn’t boost my ego or make me feel good in the slightest.  Maybe if I were still young (& wild), I might have appreciated this or even made the most of it.  But in truth I was never that girl, and I will never be that woman.  I guess I am angry, because I never believed that men could be that shallow, and it saddens me, because they have no idea about everything else that they are missing out on.  Everything else that makes me, me, everything else that is hidden just beneath the skin of what they perceive, because that is where my true beauty exists.

My conclusion

And so those words that were spoken to me all those years ago, are still in my head and remain so utterly true.  My conclusion to all this, is that I am both a Princess and a whore, and what men have to learn about me is that,

‘If they treat me like a Princess, maybe I will also be their whore, but if they treat me like a whore, they get nothing at all’.

And as for ‘that’ man, I believe he saw that in me, and if circumstances had been different, who knows where we might be.

But I thank him, because I have never felt such honesty since.

Sharon Carter-Wray

(26thJune 2016)

Update:

I would be very interested in hearing your thoughts… Sx ❤️

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Straight from the heart: 25. Displacement

Straight from the heart: 25. Displacement

This house, which was once my home, has (I hope) been sold today.  It marks the end of an era.  An end to a large chapter of my life.  And the beginning of feelings of displacement, as I search for a new place to call ‘home’.

When I bought this house 12 and half years ago, it was a time when my relationship had felt secure; and I was willing to make a financial commitment, with the man that became my husband.  Up until that point I had been completely independent, having already owned two previous homes, and coped very well on my own, thank you.  But somehow, it seemed like the next most natural step, it had felt like the right thing to do, at the time.

After his children left to live with their mum, my ex, all but moved in with me, even though he had his own place still.  It wasn’t at my request that he moved in, he’d just decided he didn’t want to be on his own, in his own home any more.  And that was it, he never left.

24. Displacement: To linger in regret
24. Displacement: To linger in regret

Moving on..

It became time to move on again, and that’s when I found this place.  This house talked to me, from the moment I saw it from outside, before I had even knocked on the door.  I knew that I had found the right place.  As I walked round on my first viewing, I had already pictured how I was going to put love back into this house.  It had been lonely for too long, with it’s single occupant, who had been here since the day it was built.  She had got married, raised a family and was eventually left alone for years, until her son decided to look after her.  I did a lot for her before the final day; and I always thought that she seemed happy to be selling her home on to me.  Almost as if she knew I would indeed continue to take care of it.

And that’s just what I did.  However, I think I did a bit more than she might have anticipated!

Roughing it

We both planned and designed our home, but decor and furnishings etc, were my department.  All my furniture, bar the essentials were put in storage, and within 6 months of roughing it; all building works were completed, the house was completely renovated, extended, re-arranged and bought up to date.  It was a tough six months, of sleeping rough, being cold and having no kitchen to speak of.  While this was going on, my ex still had his house, and was able to avoid most of the discomfort, I had to endure.  But, it was done.  I worked hard on making this house, our home, my home, transforming it over the years, until it became what it is now.

24. Dislacement: Love does not self destruct
24. Displacement: Love does not self destruct

Concerns

It wasn’t long before my concerns for my financial security were proved right, I had made a mistake.  A big mistake.  And there was nothing I could do about it, except to bide my time, watch, listen and learn.  In the end, it proved to be a very expensive mistake, and I have since spent a long time contemplating it.  I could have taken action or fought for it, but decided it just wasn’t worth it.  Money has never been my king, so I opted for the peaceful process, which proved just as painful.  But anyway, long story, short, I got my fingers severely burnt!

Bear in mind, that I had been separated from ex since Oct 2012, he had initially said he would leave, but due to circumstances we’ve had to share the same roof space.  And still do to this day, which has not been easy by any definition, the last 15 months being possibly the worst of my life.

My snug

I have digressed a little, but I suppose the point I am trying to make is that, there were a lot of ‘beginnings’, and ‘endings’ in this house.  These walls have witnessed and absorbed so much of my life.  It echoes my unhappiness when I am here on my own.  My home, for the last 15months, became two rooms, my bedroom and my ‘snug’, I have given up on using the rest of the house, unless it’s necessary.  My snug is where my world happens, it is my place of peace, calmness, inspiration, creativity, imagination and so on.  My snug is, ‘MY’ space.  My bedroom, is for rest, rejuvenation and quiet times, or for when I want to feel music in me.  Both spaces are my sanctuaries. no stress is allowed across either of these rooms’ thresholds.

But going back, it was the first time I had ever properly lived with someone, actually shared a life.  At the beginning, we both has so many hopes and dreams about our future, as it was back then.  We have shared some precious moments here, there have been many occasions when we have created memories, on our own or with other people.   There was once love here, but that too has since evaporated, dissipated into thin air, like all other kind feelings, and nice thoughts.  Now I am reminded of arguments, discussions, conversations, tears and so on, as I go from room to room.

This house

This house, is also the place, where I first seriously became ill, and continue to be so, this is the place where my world fell apart, and bad health became a constant companion.  I had aways thought having the hospital so close by, was a good thing. But I didn’t appreciate just how much time I would get to spend there, for one reason or another.  As my health deteriorated, and so did everything else.

isplacement: I heard you visited my past
24. Displacement: I heard you visited my past

But I loved this house, it was ‘me’ all over.  But since things went wrong, I have come to see that I need to create a new home, somewhere else, another place where I can start my dreams and hopes afresh.  This house is the only thing that still binds us together, mentally and emotionally, I left this place a long time ago, now I need to physically follow it through

In the last few years, this house has seen so much anger, resentment, bitterness, bereavement, and the true colours of our individual rainbows.  It has seen the end of many things, and now the planning stages of new horizons.

It is time now for someone else to love it.

Sharon Carter-Wray

(16th January 2015)

Link to: Turned to stone

Update:

On the whole, it was the best thing I could ever have done. I am not one to generally walk away, but this time it was about saving my own life from an inevitable misery that laid ahead.  Now, I am a happy person.  Now, I have a stress-free life, unless it’s brought to my door like bunches of flowers or via the telephone line…

It’s been nearly 4 and a half years since I moved on, and the place I found (by luck more than anything), has become my home and sanctuary.  I had many battles to fight along the way, with my physical, emotional and mental health. As well as a mountain of excess baggage, I desperately needed to off load.  But, I got here in the end, and feel a hell of better for it.

Fallout

It took me a long time, to deal with the fallout of everything that had happened in the last 4/5 years. It took me much longer than I had expected to fully heal and repair myself, after all it was a traumatic experience.  There are pieces from that past, that are still wedged into me.  These fragments will be reawakened from time to time, when triggered by someone’s words or behaviour toward me.  I have a very quick flinch response in that respect.

It’s a fact I can’t help, but it serves to protect my fragile heart and feelings, because I absolutely refuse to ever walk down that same path or road again.

It may well have ruined me, in a way that I find it difficult to visualise living with another man again. Ruined me to the point, I don’t know if I will ever trust another man; and always look at actions and behaviour, more than whatever words he may say.

I feel something inside of me has hardened.  I’ve a much sturdier shell than before, to deflect as much negativity as I can.  I have a different mindset.  I am less tolerant and more vocal about not accepting bad behaviour and manners.  But most of all I try to live the life I often speak of.

I am still very soft within, but that part of me is now slightly harder to reach.  Sx❤️

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Straight from the heart: 24. The breakdown of a relationship

Straight from the heart: 24. The breakdown of a relationship

The opposite of love

People often mistakenly think that the opposite of love, is hate… but they are so, so wrong.  Hate, like love is something that involves passion, there is true emotional feeling behind it.  You can hate something or someone with so much passion, that it might as well be love, for the sheer power or strength you put behind it to bring those feelings out.

The opposite of love, is surely indifference; you simple don’t care anymore, it doesn’t matter to you, you don’t ‘feel’ anything, it’s almost irrelevant.

The breakdown of a relationship
The breakdown of a relationship

I did love my ex-husband.  However, I am not sure if I ever truly fell ‘in’ love with him, for me to fall ‘out’ of love with him!

The vicious cycle

But I knew my feelings for him became less and less, as time went by.  It had become a vicious cycle, I saw too much of his ugliness, to appreciate what good was left.  The endless number of futile arguments/ discussions/ debates, always about the same things, took care of that.   And they seemed to revolve on a quarterly basis.  I got tired of having the same conversations repeatedly, that would eventually, (in spite of any initial well-intended attempts to achieve balance again), lead nowhere.  Until another 3 months or so passed, and we would have the same conversation all over again, each time trying to gauge if we had moved forward, backward or stayed the same.  I never felt any motion.

In the meantime, he continued with ‘his’ life, and I neither moved up or down on his agenda.  In fact, I always told him that I took position no: 8, in his life.  It was a position I soon realised I had to learnt to accept, there was no point in insisting I be higher up than that.  It was made abundantly clear to me, that his work, his hobbies, his friends and his family came first.  Always.  And on those very few occasions when I held his time or attention, I began to question his sincerity, doubted his actions, and always knew there was an ulterior motive.  He had a “get round to it” attitude, and that was used toward me as well.  So therefore, I always had to wait – for everything.  But if I didn’t put him first?   Oh my goodness, he became like a brattish child, constantly whining, and wanting attention.

The breakdown of a relationship 2
The breakdown of a relationship 2

Stepping away

I wised up to his game a long while back, and every time these ‘chats’ happened, I took another step further away from him, creating distance in all senses.

I should have heeded my silent alarms, that in fact this was his second time round.

All the time he was busy blaming his ex-wife, I couldn’t help but notice and acknowledge reasons, why she would have been unhappy; and why things had perhaps gone wrong for her.  He was completely blameless, of course.  As he had said himself, he just “worked his arse off”, to earn a living.  But that was all he did.  Even when she was suffering with depression, and needed his love and support, he did nothing.  He gave her no support, no help, no love, no kindness whatsoever.  And then wondered why she picked up and left, leaving him behind with 2 kids.  Especially as it was after a number of affairs on her part, and they had been ‘trying’ to ‘save’ their marriage.

History repeating itself

I once said to him about 4 years ago, that he was repeating his own history, his own life story all over again.  He was shocked by my intuition, but then he always was.  But he was never ‘ready’ to talk about his previous life and marriage.  Even after 16 years of being with me, he still took no blame, and still couldn’t bring himself to admit that he’d ‘fucked up’.  Harder still, was his denial that he was doing the same things to me.  But in the end, it cost him dearly, he had already started the process of losing me… about the only thing he ever actually got round to doing.

You can spend a life time with someone, and still never really know them.  Or you may have suspicions about certain personality traits, and wonder where they came from, what was the influence for a persons’ behaviour.  But all the time we are happy, we never really see the ugly side, and we certainly don’t go looking for it.  But it’s when things are not so good anymore, for instance during or after an argument, that we notice their negative qualities.  That’s when we see their selfishness, tightness, temper, and experience the venom they can spit or speak – I suppose all the qualities of hatred.

The ugliness

My ex, became very ugly.  Ridiculous almost, with some of the things he did to ‘get at me’.  Initially, I was so hurt and frustrated by his actions.  I couldn’t get my head round why he could do the things he was doing, or the fact he would sink so low.  But each time he did something, it usually backfired, which meant he was the one left worse off.

But it didn’t stop him, even now that we are divorced, (but forced to live under the same roof), he still does petty things to wind me up.  He is like that child, forever burning his fingers, and I wonder why he still hasn’t learnt.

24. The breakdown of a relationship 3
24. The breakdown of a relationship 3

I had learnt my lesson well with my ex, I had learnt him well, I had seen the hidden dragon on too many occasions to ignore its’ existence.  But he didn’t frighten me, not with his words or his actions.  He already knew he had no way of winning any war with me, so he just made things awkward.  He knew all the time he lost his head, I just got stronger.  I refused to respond to him in the way that he wanted.  And that made him even more angry, but there was nothing he could do with his anger, to hurt me.

Relying on my fears

At this point, I was physically in a bad way, my health problems were savage and prolonged.  But I truly believe, that he was relying on my fears, that:

  • My fear of managing due to not working
  • My fear of being on my own with my failing health
  • Or the fear of starting over again at the age of 49

Would all be enough of a deterrent for me, to stay put to continue with living this life.

But I had become brave.  And all because ‘the lady who saved my life’, asked me one simple question:

“Why are you with him?”

That question burnt a hole in my heart.  As the only answer I had to give, was that I felt responsible for him..

The wake up call

I had picked him up when he was down on his knees, and somehow I still felt responsible and continued to do so.  That was the wake up call!

So, he never had a clue just how elated my heart felt, on the day when I told him:

“We don’t have a marriage anymore”.

I had known it for so long, but finally I could no longer hold the words back.

When a relationship is ending, someone has to be responsible and admit that it won’t work anymore, that you’ve come to the end of the line.

No one wants to be the be first to say it.

But someone has to.

Sharon Carter-Wray

(7thJanuary 2015)

Update:

To this moment, that day has been the most significant one in my life to date!  There are course other meaningful days, but none that made me realise the absolute power I hold within myself.

That day, brought about a change, that would be forever lasting.  It was the day, I took control of my life again, and decided that I valued my happiness over all else.

So now, whomever enters my life, has to keep the smile on my face and not wipe it off.  Simple as that.  Sx ❤️

Link to: I thought you were my hero

Straight from the heart: 23. A new dawn

Straight from the heart: 23. A new dawn

A new dawn, a new day, a new year and hopefully a new life…

At last, the start of a new year.

Heaven only knows how desperate I was to leave the last one.

I haven’t made any resolutions as such, but there are some things, that I definitely want to leave behind.  I am not planning on giving up any habits as such, because I have a firm philosophy that

“Everyone should have at least three vices for a happy life”. 

Unfortunately, most people automatically think of a vice as something that is bad for you.  But to me, a vice is:

“Anything that gives you pleasure and makes you feel good in the soul”  

Vices

And yes, a vice could be drinking, smoking, eating chocolate – the ‘usuals’.  It could be cutting the crusts off from your bread, because, you feel it makes your sandwich taste better.  A vice could even be that you like to fit in an extra Pilates class, when you should be doing something else.  Or maybe, that you like to lock the bathroom door, and have 1/2 an hour of peace and quiet, whilst you indulge in bubbles, candlelight and music.

Whatever it is, it may be bad for your health in one way, but it can be positively good for your mental and spiritual health in another.

Life is too short

I learnt for real a while back -having lost many close family members, that life really is too short.

  • Too short to deny yourself things that make you happy.
  • Too short to waste time having pointless arguments that lead nowhere.
  • Too short to get stressed out over stupid things, that really shouldn’t be an issue.
  • Too short to waste precious time falling out with people, just to carry unnecessary anger around.
  • Too short to let the wrong people stay in your life, when you know they just simply don’t belong.
  • Too short to keeping fighting for things that are not worth fighting for.
  • Too short to waste time worrying about or regretting things that you cannot control or change.
  • Too short to fret about debts, that are really insignificant in the overall scheme of things.
  • Too short to ignore the things that really matter.

The list can on, but this is just a few of the things that I believe and that matter to me.

 

23. A new dawn
None but ourselves

Too much space…

I have allowed some people to take up too much space in my life, and they have not cultivated their plot, so it has become overgrown with weeds that are deep rooted.  It dawned on me a short while ago, (whilst having a face to face with myself in the mirror,[1]) that for a long time my life has not been about me.  It has been about other peoples. It’s been about my family and my friends, about their unhappiness, fears, anger & their frustrations; their wars, their problems and their issues etc.

Letting them go!

Having recognised this painful truth, and as much as I may love them, some of these people have done me more harm than good, and they need to go or have their role reduced.  They have often been a huge drain on my resources, almost making me topple under the weight of their burdens.  I have allowed them to take so much time away from me, forcing me to rush through ‘my’ day, never having time to sit and reflect on my own concerns.  So now, one thing I know I can do to improve my health and my life, is to start letting them go; in order to reclaim my time back.  It is definitely a new dawn…

23. A new dawn
Meeting-people

So, I have decided that this year, is going to be ‘MY’ time.  I will spend more time focusing on the things that make me happy, or feel good, and really look after myself and my needs.  One thing I know for sure, is that I will no longer spend time with people, who have no time for me.

I just want to laugh, to dance and sing!

I am fully prepared to embrace this new year, and I am actually excited by the many possibilities that lie ahead!

Sharon Carter-Wray

(1st January 2015)

Update:

Much as I was so determined 4 years ago, ‘the update’ is I have to confess, that I am still guilty of holding on to some people/things for far too long.  Got my fingers burnt again flying to close to the sun, but this time I already had my eyes open, so I knew what was coming.

In the last 18 months my integrity has been tested, by many who were supposed to be close family and friends.  They have also tested my loyalty and my patience, to such a degree, I have been forced to turn around and walk away from them; so another update to my social circle.  I have zero tolerance for insincerity, that I know, and at times I am so aware of my solitude.  But I would rather have that, than be drowned in a sea of negativity, weighted down by someone else’s bricks.

But in spite of all that, I am a much happier person for it.  And even though, I am soon to be 54, life still has many more lessons for me to learn.  And no doubt a few more mountains for me to climb… Sx ❤️

Links to: I am enough

[1] Face to face in a mirror, an exercise I do on a regular basis and recommend to anyone who is going through any kind of emotional crisis, when you lose sight of who you really are.  It’s not easy to do at first, because it something quite alien to us.  But once you start to practise it, you begin to see yourself in a different way, and are able to give yourself a “pep talk”.

Straight from the heart: 22. Twelve months is a long time…

Straight from the heart: 22. Twelve months is a long time…

In anyone’s book, but it has felt like a life time to me.

12 months ago, my ex-husband made my life an absolute misery.  He pushed me to the point that I started to look at divorce proceedings.  This was in spite of the fact that, he was the one that first mentioned the word.  He was so adamant whilst in a fit of rage (of course), that that was what he wanted.  (But as usual he had the words, but was not willing to spend any money to carry it out).  That rage was directed, point blank, at me.  I guess he wanted a response… but not the one he got…

Because at that moment time, I couldn’t have been happier.

The best thing

No matter how my spirit might have felt crushed, those words lifted me right back up there.  It was the best thing, it felt like my soul had finally been released.  I knew at that precise moment I would fly again.  However, I also knew that until that day came and I had a piece of paper in my hand, I would have to bide my time… and deal with whatever he was going to throw at me.

Twelve months is a long time

It hasn’t been a nice year.  In fact, I think this may be my worst year ever.  With so much going against me, I wonder now, how it is that I have come through this… and keep a smile still on my face.

Because it hasn’t been easy.  I have been really battling with my illness the year, it has been a struggle at times, to even be on my feet.  And most of this is due to the constant stress within my home and an excess of outside pressures.

This year has been a huge turning point in my life, I have learned so much, felt so much and hurt so much.  But I also know, that all this stuff, will help to build the foundations for my new life.

Wylie Coyote

I won’t go into the details about what brought my ex and I to that juncture, as it means having to think and talk about him.  And to be honest that’s the last thing I need or want to do.  But what I will say is, to my knowledge I have never applied the “C” word to a person, until it became very apt for him!  I used to refer to him as “Mister”, pretty nondescript and indifferent.  Then I began calling him ‘Jekyll and Hyde’, because of his dual personality.  After that, I named him “Wylie Coyote”, because just like Wylie, whatever shit he pulled on me, it only backfired!

But now and forever more, I affectionately refer to him as “Fuckface”, which seems to be very fitting.  I was particularly pleased when Facebook came up with a definition for the word “Fuckface”, because it defined him perfectly!

I can’t find the post itself, but here’s the definition: “Fuckface”, a person who’s face upon immediately seeing, you just want to smack!

Twelve months is a long time

I also don’t want to be an embittered woman, complaining about how a man has done her wrong!  I definitely don’t want to take that thought into a new year, that’s not how I roll.

But this year has brought about many things, that I thought I would never bear witness to, but they all serve as an important lesson for my future.  I lost whatever little care or affection that I still held for him a long time ago.  Sadly, I also lost what little respect I had for him; but that wasn’t difficult, because he had no respect for himself.

Gift horses

Fuckface never knew how to be thankful.  In fact he lacked any feeling for anything, unless it was a real passion of his.  But to his regret, all too often he went too far for his own good. He stared straight down the gullet of the many gift horses I presented, never understanding genuine and uninhibited kindness for what it was.  EVERYTHING, was taken, eaten up selfishly and greedily, it really was a disgusting sight to watch.  It’s a shame he didn’t have the same gusto, when it came to his responsibilities, but hey ho!

But, as I have said before, I blame myself, because I allowed it to continue.  End of.**

The end

Finally, my divorce came through on Tuesday, October 22nd, even though I didn’t find out until two days later.  It marked the end of an eighteen year long relationship, one that should never have got this far and/or have ended long before. It was the end of any kindness or concessions.  It was the end of financial burden and attachment.  It cost me dearly.  I have lost more money than I have gained, but it didn’t matter to me, because quite simply:

Money has never been my king.  

So many friends suggested I held out for more or that I shouldn’t have given in, but they didn’t know the pain I was in.  In the end, I opted for the “I just want to be done with this” attitude, to me, not being attached to him and starting over was far more imperative than what I was leaving behind or losing.  After all, I was never going to get it back, was I?  However, any celebrations were short lived, because my status might have changed, but not my circumstances.  They were still very much the same!

So instead, I became internally stronger, and remained graceful and dignified at all times.  I think that got to him more, because I simply did not respond to his angry words and threats any more.  Which in turn, made my life easier.

From home to house

Our house, is another story.  I put my blood, sweat and tears into creating a fabulous space, I called home.  But it soon reverted from home to house, it was no longer my ‘home’ as emotionally and mentally I had already left.  It’s been on the market since Feb this year, and we had a sale within the first few days.  It looked like everything was going to be sorted.  However, I didn’t bank on Fuckface sinking so low, and being the complete and utter t**t that he is!

Long story, short, we had a sale, he refused to sign the property papers agreeing to it, so 4 and a half months later, buyers lost interest, and found somewhere else.  His reasons for doing this?   Well, besides blackmailing me with a list of conditions, your guess is as good as mine.  It intrigues me more, because he was the one who bullied me into selling it in the first place!  See why I called him Wylie?  But I guess he must have thought he was being really clever.

Twelve months

But anyway, I began by saying that 12 months is a long time, because it feels like this has all happened day by day, frame by frame, in slow-motion.  Remembering how I felt back then… almost, but not quite broken.

The moment it changed

I so needed to take control again, bit by bit and piece by piece.  Slowly picking up fragments of myself that had been lost on the wayside.  I have felt and been so alone at times.  But solitude gave me what I needed – time.  Time to inspect and search through all my broken pieces, and discard the fragments that were putrid.  There has been no outside influence or interference in the process, it was just down to me.  Muddling my way through my mind, and as usual making sense of it all, seeing the answers I couldn’t find before.

All I need now, is for the house to be sold again, this is my one true wish for this next year.  Because it will finally mean that I can finally sever all my links with Fuckface and move on.

After all it’s been over 2 years since our marriage ended, and two months since our divorce, I think it’s more than time now.

Sharon Carter-Wray

(30thDecember 2014

Update:

These days, he doesn’t come to mind, unless I recognise similar patterns and behaviours in someone else.  And when that has happened, it has felt like a rude re-awakening, with trumpets and bells sounding out the arrival of red flags.

I know when wrote this, I was in a really bad way and in a very bad place.  How I managed to keep my resolve and find strength throughout this time, is still a mystery to me.  I can honestly say that whole episode has never once brought tears, even though I have often felt that way.  I guess after so many years, it was anger and contempt that I felt most, I didn’t have any tears for him.

But now it has been over 4 years since I started again, I am happy with who I am, and where I’m at in my life.

The only regret I have is that I should have done it so much sooner. Sx ❤️

** I’ve have since addressed this!

Links to The narcissist and Untouched

 

 

 

 

 

 

Straight from the heart: 21. My fathers’ words

Straight from the heart: 21. My fathers’ words

After yet another restless night, I awoke this morning in a very contemplative mood.  After a while, this led to an epiphany which has troubled me all day.  I think I may have mentioned before, something that my father always used to say to me, being the youngest of 7 siblings; and that was

“you have got to fight for your survival, if you’re going to survive Sharon”.

At the time he meant getting my share of everything, as my brothers and sisters were always put first, and with an age gap of 5 years; I soon learned to grow up pretty quick.  And on occasions, when I have been accused of being ‘spoilt’, they have heard the bad side of my tongue, because they have no idea of the sacrifices I had to make, because of them.  My childhood, for one, they weren’t around when I needed support, they had all left and gone about their business. IMG_0079

Years later, they didn’t see the reaction I got after I gave up a college course my father had insisted that I do.  After all, I was the last chance in his eyes, I was the last chance to get it right, produce something that was well educated and would go far, a progeny he could be openly proud of.

They also didn’t see, me paying my way through college with an Avon cosmetics jobs, or that the only extra money I got, was the family allowance money (which wasn’t much), that mum gave me.  All because he flatly refused to further support me in any way, shape or form at college.  There are many, many other instances that I can recall, but I have strayed from my point.

Anyway, this morning, I got to thinking about the battles I have fought in my life to get here, you know, the times I really did have to fight for my survival.  And I started right from the very beginning, my birth.  I was born with a condition called ‘Vulvulus‘, which means a twisted intestine.  Quite a serious condition for a baby, because it meant I could not keep food down in my stomach, and was constantly vomiting.  At the time, my folks were living in London, and it took many visits to Southampton General Hospital, before I had surgery; and partly because of that I still have stomach problems today and bear a large scar to boot.  Obviously, it was touch and go, but I have always said that ‘I wasn’t meant to be here, so that’s what makes me special! 🙂

I’ve spent time revisiting my youth and adolescence, and the issues relating to that time, through to my early twenties.  I had started a business at 21, did it for a few years, then became constantly employed, I’ve had relatively few jobs in my life, because I have always stuck at things, wanting to see the end of something. UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_ff

But in actual fact, my ambition had been driven. Driven by my fathers’ words, that had never left me, even now I hear them in my head.  I took on challenging jobs, in very male dominated environments, but I knew my stuff, so no one could touch me.  I worked hard, harder that any of my employers ever deserved, only to try and climb an invisible ladder to nowhere, but empty promises.

Especially the last job, the amount of pressure I was put under, from day one.  This time I was working mainly with young men, doing Construction apprenticeship training.  I had a vast case load (popular industry), extra out of hours tasks with open evenings, giving talks to local schools, staff training and so on.  I gathered knowledge, I taught myself, I went to night school to become a trainer, I qualified earning a teaching diploma.  Then I went on to the full qualification, getting teaching practice in, and gathering certificates for anything that might be useful for the future.  But in the end, it was a non-starter.  That when the walls came tumbling down…

And now? Even though I have not worked for so many years, I am still fighting.

There was my ex husband, who had basically manipulated or abused my good nature from the onset, making demands of me when I stepped in to help his business.   I knew our relationship not quite right; I was not being recognised for anything.  He disregarded my achievements or input, everything was so one-sided; but it was my money that created the home and sanctuary, it was my money that mainly paid the bills.

Finally, when I realised that I could move no further forward, I fought to save myself through my depression, fibromyalgia, sciatica and so many other illnesses, and again during the break-up of my marriage.  I was always fighting to always do the right thing…  But the right thing for whom?

And then it struck me!

40042200_1909492615756275_1190609254218727424_nHad I really spent a large chunk of my life, living up to and going further than my fathers’ expectations?

To the point he couldn’t criticise me for things I have done for and by myself?  Maybe that was my sub-conscious goal.  I didn’t want to hear his criticisms, because he spent a lot of time criticising others for their shortfalls, as though he had none himself.

Or was it just sheer defiance in me, that has made me so determined to always do my best, and achieve as much as I can?

Or was I simply seeking some approval from my dad?

But the truth is, my father has no idea about my skills, qualifications, education or abilities.  He has no idea or understanding about the jobs I have done, my achievements, the responsibilities I have held, or even the reputation and respect that I gained professionally.  He certainly doesn’t know about my art, my creativity or my writing skills.  He really knows nothing about me at all, but in his eyes, I like my siblings could/should have done better.  Never once has he ever taken into account, what we might have wanted for ourselves.

All I know is that I have pushed & pushed myself.  I have always been so hard on myself.  I have punished myself constantly to do better, to feel worthy. And this is the result of it all.  Everything I have ever worked for sits with in this house, this place I used to call my home.

The sad irony is that in spite of everything, it is all being stripped away from me, by the very man my father approved of most.

And that I have to accept.

Sharon Carter-Wray
(12th December 2014)

Update:

In about 3 weeks, I will be celebrating my 4thanniversary of starting over.  I will confess that this part of my life journey has been a solitary one and has not been easy.  I have almost constantly been plagued throughout with pain, depression, low moods and a few other issues sent to test me.

But now when I feel like my mood or physical health is really going to bring me down, I remind myself of what a remarkable and incredibly strong woman I am.

I have come through the other side; I still have a smile on my face… and that is enough for me.  Sx ❤️

(Sunday 24thMarch 2019)

You have everything in you

 

Straight from the heart: 20. Red Letter Day

Straight from the heart: 20. Red Letter Day

Today, I read the last letter I wrote to myself about 4 months ago.  It is the second time I have done this, and I find it an invaluable means of bookmarking my life.

It also useful for measuring if anything has changed, got better or stayed the same.  But it is more importantly, a reminder from myself about a period of time I want to move on from.

I don't care how longIt might sound like a very simple, but writing an open and honest letter to yourself, is a difficult thing to do.  It is hard to put real words to emotions or feelings, that can sometimes be so alien to us, and delving into our inner psyche and soul is not something to take on lightly.  It forces you to acknowledge every aspect of your life, where you’ve been, your current situation, and where you hope to be; and is an opportunity to air it in a safe way.

You can discover so much about yourself and the reasons why you might behave a certain way or have a certain attitude.  So, if you really want to know yourself better, write it down, the good and the bad, then take a good look at it, and really think about it.  You will find answers, but you need to give yourself time, to absorb this new information.

Anyway, back to my letter, I read it this morning and I was quite overwhelmed by the contents.  I remember at the time, I was so in need of nurturing, love and care, I was also in a lot of pain and pretty much lost and alone.

In spite of that, it was a very positive letter, just talking about my future, when I will finally move on from the existence I’ve had and still have now.  It was about recognizing my acceptance of things that I can’t change, and the acknowledgement of the misery I had experienced, and the dreams I still have left.

It was powerful reading.  I was being kind to myself for once. I smiled, and then eventually cried, as I read.  It was a beautiful letter, penned by me, to me.

Only I know of the subtle changes that have taken place over recent months.  I alone, have noted the true power of my self-belief, and my determination to bring about change.What lies behind us

So today I have been reminded, and have been able to measure, that emotionally and psychologically, I have advanced forwards, by quite a distance.

But physically, I am still waiting to move on to my new life.  This is the one thing, for which I have absolutely no control.

Sharon Carter-Wray

(7th December 2014)

Update:

Thankfully on 17th April 2015, I finally got what I so needed, I moved into my flat and began the process of getting my life back together again!  Sx ❤️

 

19. Time… Changes everything

Eleven years ago, in Aug 2003 I had my breakdown.  It is only now that I actually call it that.  I never really had a word for it before, but it was the biggest turning point in my life.

And a break down it was, a complete and utter break down of everything.

I had seen it coming.  I had felt the vibes in me.  I knew something wasn’t right within my soul.  So, it came as no great surprise that Monday morning, as I walked towards my office with the usual sense of foreboding, high blood pressure, rapid heartbeat, heavy breath, and anxiety… to find myself 30 minutes later in a heap.

Having sat down at my desk, I knew I had to see my doctor urgently, and within minutes of making that call, I was struggling with life itself.  I remember the day so clearly, from the panic around me, to the fact that my team leader drove me home, rather than call the ambulance that I so desperately needed at the time.  It had felt like they just wanted to hurry me off the premises, to no longer be their responsibility. Truth is

After a few weeks of being completed drugged out, Occupational health stepped in, and organized 6 weeks of counselling with a local practice.  That woman did more damage than good!  She opened up a whole can of worms that should have been left well alone, as she could not deal with the contents.  She spent more time talking at me, than to me, telling me what I should do, and so on and so on.  I couldn’t wait to finish the 6 weeks with her.  It felt like unfinished business, and I had had no trust in her to truly open up.  But at least one thing I did learn was that I was indeed depressed.  Just as my doctor had told me.  Initially, the very idea of depression, was something I had been bemused by, but it soon dawned on me that I was suffering, and as time went by, I realised just how bad I had it and for how long.

I was appointed a psychiatrist, who I still see, and went on to attend other types of counselling.  But I didn’t really have the same issues as some of my peers, so I never felt that I got anything out of it, except understanding the different degrees or levels at which people can suffer.  More importantly, I learnt that depression can last for years and years, and some people don’t ever really get over it. 

The darkness i know so well

Being myself, I had thought I would recover in a few months, that all I needed was just a break, and here I am eleven years later, still not out of the woods yet!

I have always very open about my illness.  Many people have thanked me for my candidness, and for being willing to talk about it. I described depression like falling a series of steps; and acknowledged that we all suffer from it at some time in our lives, but for most it will last for a very short period of time i.e. falling down to the first step.

But, for the unfortunate ones, they fall a lot further down, maybe even hitting the floor hard.  And that’s when the true problems can arise, that’s when we need the help of medication, to pull us out of it and up again.  I placed myself somewhere near rock bottom, but not quite.

It is after all a chemical reaction within our brain and body, there is nothing that we can do to help ourselves, so there should be no shame or stigma just because of people’s ignorance.  I became quite good at seeing it in other people, and my honesty was always welcomed and appreciated, because I understood.

A doctor once said to me, that he best cures for depression are:

  1. Sunshine
  2. Exercise
  3. Laughter

Three things guaranteed to boost your mood, and help make you feel better…  If only it were that simple.  Depression usually means that you have been robbed of the ability to enjoy doing things, or you no longer feel pleasure in anything, because you feel so flat and so low.  So how do you summon up the energy to get yourself motivated?  When it takes all the “feel good” emotions away from you?

Don't depend too much on anyoneMany people were shocked in the way I had changed, I was no longer chatty or humorous, I was very, very quiet and withdrawn.  Basically, I became a shell, the complete opposite of the person I usually was.

People questioned how I could be depressed, with having the nice house, a good job and a lovely husband to boot, (all the material things that allegedly make people happy), because they simply could not understand how it could happen to me.  After all, if I could get knocked down by it, so could they.  I came to recognise who my real friends were, and undertook a major housekeeping exercise, ridding myself of negative forces around me.  Cutting off people who thought they always knew what my problem was, and had a cure for me, in fact it pretty much affected anyone that didn’t listen to me.

About 18 months into my breakdown, I was assigned a Psycho-Therapist, and this was the first step towards my recovery, and me getting my life back.  This amazing woman named Margaret, held the keys to so many of my internal locks, and bit by bit she encouraged me to match each key to a lock, to discover what was hiding behind.  It was then that realisation finally took control.

I began to accept just how broken I was, but I always had it in my mind that one day I would be healed again.  Even though I knew it would take time for that to happen, that thought kept a positive light burning inside of me; in spite of feeling like I was surrounded by darkness.

I am so proud of myself, because I never lost my free spirit, I have maintained my focus throughout this illness, and I have emerged so much stronger than ever before.

Sharon Carter-Wray

(2nd December 2014)

Update:

It’s hard to be believe that was me 4 years ago.  What I didn’t know then, was that I was on the brink of a major transitional period, that would once again rip my life inside out.

I am fully aware and accepting of the fact that depression will always be a companion of mine, whether she lurks in the shadows or walks by my side.  I am also fully accepting of the fact that I will always be on medication for it, in spite of being discharged from my psychiatric service.  But in truth, I never really believed that I got the support or the service I should have received from them; because there were so many important issues that were left undiscussed.  So, a lot of the time I felt very much alone and like I was left to flounder.

But in the end, over the last 4 years I have addressed the main factors that had brought me to that place, and at least now feel like I’m holding the steering wheel and I’m back in the control seat of my life.  I had very few people I could confide in, who had some knowledge and understanding of what I was going through.  So silently, I got on with the task of picking myself back up, dusting myself down and getting on with the process of properly mending and healing.   Stop looking for the light

I keep that beast inside“, came out of this transitional phase, when I wrote it not only did I feel angry, I knew I had every right to be.  My creativity and my written words, have empowered and driven me so much, I no longer seek validation from people close to me, who seem quite happy to disregard or ignore my talents.

But, this matters no more as my confidence and self-belief are growing daily, and I feel truly blessed by that.  Sx ❤️

(Saturday 16th February 2019)

 

 

 

 

 

 

18. Oh give me a break!

Don’t really mean to have a rant, but have you ever had a time, when you felt your brain was just so addled, you felt completely lost within yourself?

Or felt enveloped by some thick fibrous tissue of someone’s life, that you felt like you were suffocating in them?

Well, that’s been me, these last few weeks!45148043_10160875251795005_2443880444903555072_n

I feel utterly exhausted by the stress, caused by someone else’s agony and frustrations.  I cause no real stress to myself, it is always someone else’s.

They bring it to my door like bunches of flowers, down the phone line, by internet, and in the case of my ex-husband – from very close quarters within the home.

But I don’t want to hear it!  I just simply don’t want to hear it… anymore.

I keep myself away.  Quiet and unnoticed.  Just calmly trying to deal with crap that’s already in my life, my health and again ex-husband, but that’s not enough.  Doesn’t matter how many times or ways I try to say ‘enough‘, the words, fall, on deaf ears.  I can never get my head round that!

They can see I am mentally drained, and so, so tired.  But it would seem that I’m the ONLY one to know the solutions to their problems.  As always.

They don’t have to think, why should they?  They have me, at the drop of a hat, first person to call.  I never proclaimed myself to be the Oracle, and neither do I want to be, it sounds like a bloody hard job.

37671334_2145716445665726_381903269280088064_n 37987924_817059122018685_2662990348992643072_nI just wish that just every now and then, they could come to their senses, and for a change just stand on their own two feet for a while. Just try it out.  See how it feels, and get used to the idea!  I know it would be a huge relief for me, because right now I feel like I’m being crushed, struggling to breathe.

Just a breath of fresh air, a breath of sweet, quiet harmony, would be enough to recharge my batteries, so that I can sparkle again!

Sharon Carter-Wray

(26th November 2014)

Update

At the time when I wrote this, my divorce had been finalised, but I still had to live under the same roof as my ex-husband.  It was not the happiest of times, as he demonstrated how vengeful and vindictive, he could be on a daily basis.  Sometimes in ways, that I cannot fathom why he would choose to behave in such a manner.

I guess he was hurting because he knew he had already lost something, that he’d finally recognised the value of… and there was no chance of ever getting it back.

I am not making excuses for him, but I suppose as the time has passed, I had more time to reflect on it.

In those few months before our house sold, he made my life absolutely miserable, in any way he could.  To the point that I anticipated his actions, and most times they backfired on him.

During this period of my life, I had little support from anyone.   There were many, who thought I was wrong for doing what I did, many who criticised me.  And there were many more who simply could or would not believe, that he was anything but this mild mannered, chilled out guy.  He’d never dream of hurting me, because he knew I was more than his match.  He dare not lay a finger on me.  It was one of those things that I’d always warned him about, because even I don’t know how I’d react if someone ever struck me.  But I know I would be worried, I don’t take to that kind of thing kindly.

People knew little or nothing about what was really happening.  He took full advantage of tainting my name and good nature, whilst I said nothing.  Whether those that listened believed him or not, I don’t know, but their eyes can’t deceive them, or deny what a ‘better’ man he’d become, because of me.  But I never heard another word from any of his family of his shared friends.  So, may be they did.

Little did they know, how in an instant he could transform from a gentle being into a raging lunatic.  Throwing things, kicking things, causing damage, (in particular to my belongings), shouting at the top his voice, like he was some caged animal.  They didn’t know this side.

Or the guy who would also be broke, never have a penny to spend on anything, had fallen behind on all his financial responsibilities, but like magic could come up with cash to disappear for a week to go sailing.  Knowing that he’d not paid the mortgage, or put money on the electric meter to last his absence, and never once checking to make sure I had money.  They didn’t know this side.

But in the end, it doesn’t matter what other people may think and feel, it wasn’t their life, and they have no inkling of the real issues I had to deal with.   All I knew is that I had to leave and be as far away from him, as I could.37987924_817059122018685_2662990348992643072_n

In truth, as with many things, I didn’t do it for them, I did it for me.

And thank goodness I had the sense to do what I did, when I did.  I had to save myself… simple as that.

Sharon

(Monday 4th February 2019)

 

 

17. All good things must come to an end…

For something else better to begin!

Well. I guess I ought to give an explanation for where the entries in this section “Straight from the heart” come from.

I had previously created a blog entitled:  ‘Journey through a painful body and a depressed mind‘, and I used this forum to write about my on-going battle with various health problems.  The title says it all really, but I have to clearly state that that, is who I was (and still am to some degree), but I have travelled far since then.

In the end, about 4 years ago, I decided that it was time to close to door on that chapter of my life.  Not because I was better, but because I recognised that virtually every single word I wrote, was bleak and gloomy.  It was all about the darkness.  Even though at the time, it was very beneficial for me to write this way, I realised that it wasn’t really who I was anymore. And I certainly didn’t need reminding of having felt that way.  This all being at a time, when I was both at my lowest and my strength was coming back, when my marriage was ending and I needed to feel hope in my heart.

The blog was very important to me, it helped me to survive and win through a very onerous period of my life.  I therefore, believe it was a necessity that my entries from it be included here, as the foundation of where it all began.  It was the beginning of my healing process, and allowed me to speak openly about the frustrations and anger that crippled me.  So, all good things must come to an end… blade-of-grass

Journey through a painful body and a depressed mind:

The ‘painful body’ is due to 4 conditions that I suffer with, Fibromyalgia, Allodynia Sciatica and Spinal degeneration in my upper and lower back.  Fibromyalgia, is the condition that I struggle with most, as I have it severely from top to toe.  It is horrible disorder to live with, as for me it entails being in chronic pain anywhere throughout your body.  Basically ‘Fibro” refers to the fibrous tissue surrounding joints and muscles, and ‘Myalgia’ refers to pain.  This can also be referred to a chronic pain syndrome, so it’s not just a few minor aches.

The severity, duration and locality of pain is different for each and every person, and I am now classed as being ‘End stage – severe’.  The pain from this can be so bad, a person can be completely incapacitated or even bed ridden by it, and I am very thankful, I have not reached that point yet).

There is no cure for this condition.

The best I can do for me, is to look after myself, by keeping my body as mobile as possible.  For that, I do a lot of stretching and yoga postures, and anything else that helps to keep me standing on my own two feet.  The only relief I can sometimes get, is by using strong pain killing drugs, which only dampen the pain down, and in turn create other problems for me.

Fibromyalgia: Is not a problem inside my head.  It is very real.  It is very painful. It is debilitating.  It is the silent burglar.

And it doesn’t just affect the physical body, it also grabs hold of your mind, and controls daily activity.

These are just some examples of how I am affected by Fibromyalgia:You think you know her
Forgetfulness, easily stressed, lack of concentration or focus, confusion, being clumsy, being unsteady just standing up, easily tired through constant lack of or disturbed sleep, eternal fatigue, terrible balance, being drained of energy, sensitivity to light, sound, smell and taste.

This list could go on and on.

I suffer with symptoms quite literally from head to toe on a daily basis.  I am always in pain, FULL STOP. I am always worn out, it takes me forever to do things, and it has robbed me of many simple joys in life.  But I, like everyone else, don’t have a choice, I have to live with it.

The Fibro, has also brought on a condition called Allodynia, which makes me incredibly sensitive to the slightest touch.  The severity of this, varies around different parts of my body, and in some cases I am now 23% more sensitive to pain than the average person.  What that means is that what might feel like a light touch to you, could feel like a punch to me.  Something as simple as stubbing my toe, could end up with me being in absolute agony for weeks.  So, I am always very cautious and somewhat scared of how people may touch me, be it a hug or an accidental brush.  My senses are on such high alert for this, and no one would know just by looking at me, that something was wrong. But my body automatically tenses up, in preparation of being hurt unintentionally in this way.

It has made my life unbearable at times, and I now understand that I have had it for most of my life, but something triggered it off for it to become full blown.  It took nearly 4 years of being left untreated and being in agony before I received a full diagnosis, that finally gave me a name for this monster.  By having MRI scans, it also showed that I had degeneration going on in my upper and lower back, and not before long, Sciatica was added to my repertoire of illnesses.

6ca44-required1As for the depression, that really took hold of me about 16 years ago, I literally skidded, then crashed and burned.  Again, with the help of hindsight, I recognise that this too was something that stemmed back from my childhood.  However, this time I really was a train wreck.

It is something I know will never entirely leave me, but now, I can’t help think that with everything on my plate, depression is/was a natural gravy.  Today, I use the strength I have gained through recovery to be open and frank with others who are suffering – whether they know it or not.

It is a strange sensation when your mind is still wanting to speed along but your body takes over the decision-making process.  Not being in control of my own frame of mind, left me feeling powerless, hopeless and defeated.  I have often said,

‘It was the best thing that could have happened to me’. 

Because had I carried on with my life the way it was, then things would have truly ended up being a lot worse.

In just a short space of time, my life changed forever, I was plunged into the darkness of a sound proofed arena, where I could hear and observe everything, but nobody heard or saw me.

It was the start of my ‘incredible journey’.

A mordacious opportunity, that helped me revisit my life.  My past, my ‘past’ past, my present, eventually leading me to look forward at my new future.   I’ve had decisions to make, and many other issues to deal with along the way, but one thing was for sure, changes had to be made.Sometimes it hurts

So here I am, this is where I’m at, now aged 49, about to embark on possibly the most exciting time of my life…starting over again. I am not out of the woods yet, but I can clearly see a bright light ahead of me.

I stopped writing the other blog, because I know I am not that person anymore.  All my physical health problems, as expected have naturally and progressively gotten worse, and deep depression is still a regular visitor.  But now, I see it for what it is, a ‘visitor’, something ‘temporary’.

I’m in a whole different place.

I have created a new book, with many blank pages.

I’ve rewritten, what was my then future.

I refuse to allow it to drag me too far, back into the abyss, it is not a place I want to spend time.

I see now, why back then, it was so crucial for me to have retained my positive outlook on my recovery and life.

Sharon carter-Wray

(Originally written 29/09/2014)

(Updated: 9th January 2019)

 

16. The Liberation of Sharon Carter-Wray

Right now,
I feel as though
I have just emerged
through the other side of such darkness.
A place I had been for years,
Sinking, lower and lower,
Feeling, darker and darker.
I, have been surrounded by people
Who didn’t see me
Who had no idea of the private hell
I was going through… all on my own.
Or the pressure
They sometimes added to my load.
But then a while back
I started to really take note of myself,
The people around me,
The situation I was in
And the fact
That I felt so unhappy,
So miserable and so depressed
I had forgotten how to smile
And I felt like this
All the time
The mental ordeal
Caused the physical sting
As I declined
I could not do a thing
My body was racked with pain
From top to toe
I had to lean on walking sticks
Wherever I had to go
There was not a part of me that wasn’t sore
In spite of me doing
A lot less and not more
Very slowly when a new day begun
I was blessed with a saint
A lady I’ll never forget
A lady who helped me
Moved forward on my quest
I opened my eyes for the very first time
And all too soon began to realise
How much stress
Was constantly in my life
Tension that was not mine to own
But more delivered
By some other needy soul
Every conversation that I had
Someone leant on me
Used my listening ears to air their woes
Or tell me of their ills
Each call was full
Of another’s misery and tears
It wasn’t about showing me care
And to every friend I turned
The story was the same
In the end
It became too much to bear
It was only then
That I knew for sure
I needed no further convincing
No one noticed me
No one saw my pain
No one could imagine my pain
No one could feel my pain
Sadly sympathy was in short supply
Even though it was not
The medicine that I desired
I felt so sad, so empty
I was so full of loneliness
But yet, I hid it all so well
Behind my beautiful smile
My lady,
Helped me to see
That it was not really others
Who were guilty
Of being the root of my pain
It was me 
I was self-harming in a terrible way
Every time I took on someone else’s pain
I used their words like razors
Lacerating my own veins
I gave my permission
I had opened those doors
But no one saw it was my blood
Dripping to the floor
That day,
I woke up
For the first time in years
That day,
I opened my eyes
And saw just how blinded I had been
I took a good look
At whom and what I had become
I didn’t like what I saw
It scared me to see
How my skin had been flayed
And my flesh was raw
Somewhere, along my path
During my journey through the darkness
I had lost myself
I had lost sight of who I used to be
The woman
At the very core of me
And all at once
I missed her so much
She had gone quiet for years
As though a part of me had died
I hadn’t noticed when she had left
I just knew she wasn’t there
No longer by my side
I called her ‘My Free Spirit’
Like a ship set to sail
She is the very of soul of me
And she is hell bent on
Not seeing me fail
Every now and then
She would majestically appear
And sparkle quite discreetly
Just enough for me to heed
To let me know 
She hadn’t gone completely
Every time I caught a glimpse
I felt stronger inside
As I grew stronger I became angry
The angrier I became
The more I wanted to rage
The more I learned
The more I knew
Something within my life
Dynamically and desperately
Had sought and wanted change
In fact, not something but someone
And that just so happened
To be me
So, with the help of my lady
I set about my mission
Ever so lovingly
Chip by chip and part by part
I dismantled myself
Starting from the heart
I gathered all the diamonds
And like a puzzle
I put them back as one
The picture told the story
Of my discontented life 
But
It wasn’t long
Before some of those fragments
Showed their truth
They simply didn’t belong 
Where they used to dwell
I could offer no more space
I needed and wanted it for
An entirely different shape
A form that could shift and alter
Allowing me to breathe
As I mused and pondered
Along came the answers
What I finally understood
Is if I didn’t make changes
This would be my life
For good
Now today
Some of that pain still lingers,
My smile is now true
No more will others
Turn my horizons
A dark shade of blue
My free spirit hadn’t left
She had stoically remained
Guarding all my diamonds
Until I was able to tell the tale
A true and honest account of 
The liberation of
Sharon Carter-Wray
Sharon Carter-Wray

(Rewritten 7th January 2019)
(Original 1st September 2013

15. And so the story continues.

I hope, I haven’t made this whole thing about depression and healing myself sound as if it were easy.   It was far from it.  What a lot of people don’t understand about depression is that there no magic cure, it is not about “picking yourself up”, or “getting over it” or “popping pills” in your mouth.  There is so much more to it than that.

People with real depression only wish that they could do, just that.  But it’s not a choice that we have.  People who ask “What have you got to be depressed about?”, or  say things like “I’ve got a friend (etc), with the same problem and they did this”, or “You need to be getting out more and enjoying yourself”, etc, etc, etc.

The darkness i know so well
Know this feelilng well!

These people, who can voice such incredible words of thoughtlessness, and insensitivity, have absolutely no idea what they are saying to a depressed mind, or in fact to the person they are saying it to.

In my life, they were people who knew me, until I realised they knew nothing about me or my life.  They merely saw the material things I had gathered, the confidence I held in myself, the way I would always be the one to speak up, and who also always got the job done.  They didn’t bear or even consider the pressure I was under, or notice my gradual decline.  They didn’t see what was coming.  Neither did I.  But one day I was stopped.

1badf-when2bthe2bheart2bis2bcutNot by choice.  I had nothing to do with it.  My body had literally decided it couldn’t take anymore, it was burnt out, exhausted, and it was crying out for rest and quiet.

And for a while, in such a weakened state I had tried to defend myself against these people and their words.  But, no matter how many times I tried to explain, why this had happened to me, it fell on deaf ears.  And eventually I stopped trying to explain, and became almost silent.

All they wanted to do was find something else to blame it on:

  • Buying a new house
  • Building work that was going on,
  • Even my recent marriage.

Never did anyone, not even any of my family acknowledge, the stress they’d put me under, or the demands they made of me. And my employers seemed to think it was okay for me to do the job of 4 people, whilst studying and doing staff training on their behalf.  Never, did anyone think that they could be held even remotely responsible.

And that’s when I knew, that for my own sanity, I had to remove these people from my life.  Mentally, emotionally and physically.  They were causing me more damage and more pain than I needed or could cope with, and they completely zapped my energy.

Sharon Carter-Wray

(First written 5thMarch 2012)

I began calling my depression, my own personal journey, because that is exactly what it is, both personal and a journey.  But I am fortunate enough to be able to voice what’s in my head, and record my own thoughts. I can’t always be poetic about my feelings, so at times what I write may come across as being very raw, but it is honest.

I guess that’s why I feel that depression is such a very solitary thing.

People think they understand and have all the answers, as though it were as simple as going to the gym, or getting your hair cut.  But unless they have experienced it themselves, they really have no inkling of what really goes on in our minds.

00177-10462841_673987222689399_3467623837117453863_nSome of us may be lucky to find things that gives us some release, with me it’s my creativity and writing, but it can be a battle in itself to start that process.  For others, they may remain completely trapped, unreachable almost, being lost in their own world, where they see or feel no joy.

Because of the nature of all the illnesses I suffer with I am still depressed, it would strange if I weren’t.  Nobody can put up with constant pain, fatigue and a host off other issues, with a smile permanently on their face!  And I know I will be on medication for the rest of my life, there is no getting away from that, and I accept that.  Just as I have come to accept many things…

But one thing I do know for sure is:

It takes an almighty person, with the right set of keys to unlock the darkness inside someone’s mind and release the light.

Sharon Carter-Wray

(Updated Wednesday 5thDecember 2018)

 

14. Why oh why?

Why is it that sometimes the people who are closest to you and should care about you, are the ones that actually don’t understand or give a shit?
I am almost lost for words to speak, but I think I have the ability to voice my utter disbelief and anger on these pages.

  • What is it about some people, that as soon as you open your mouth to express something, they are straight down your throat biting and spitting venom, before the words or sounds are even formed?
  • Why are they always on the attack, and so defensive first?   Why can’t they give it a moments thought that you may have something important or earnest to say?
  • Why do they always think that they are about to be blamed for something, or they’ve done something wrong, and are therefore protecting themselves just in case.

It kills me some times, when I think that I have spent 15 years of my life with someone that is so selfish and conceited, who is only happy when we are talking about him, his interests, his hobbies, his work, his problems, his family issues and his hang-ups of which there were many.  And of course I am indeed speaking about my husband in this particular situation. 650e5-how2bdid2byou2bget2bso2bempty

He is content with his selfish existence, because he can mock or block whatever or whomever he feels is not important or worthwhile at any moment in time.  Which is usually me.  As usual, I will just pick up the pieces, and repair them once again, or I will make anew and ensure that each time it is stronger. Sometimes I wonder why I do this, does it make me happy, feel more secure, feel cared for or loved, something special, or listened to?  The answer is no, because, all I do is wait for the next time, and wonder if next time, will be my last time.

Why does he only remember at the last minute, that if it were not for me he would not have the very things that he enjoys so much, and yet can be so selfish about.  Why does he take for granted, the one thing he should hold closest to his heart and nurture, because I am the only person who believes in him, no matter what?  He gives me no real thanks or recognition, there is no appreciation, there are always only words, and more words that essentially mean nothing or even less ,than the first time they were spoken with sincerity.  The poison is spat with such anger, but no thought – that will come later when he realises what he is possibly or most likely sacrificing.  Why does he not understand that by then it’s too late?

Words cannot be unspoken, unkindness and not be replaced and no soothing words will ever heal the damage that has just been caused.

All he has done is confirm what I already knew and believed, as I see in his actions, behaviour and his mood every day.  That will never change, as he lacks the respect within himself, to look into the mirror and see who he is really is, and what he has become.  It has been a long time since he really took a proper look, perhaps, it’s time for him to do it again, before he causes long term, irreparable pain.

556c6-dear2bexIt is the same blood that courses through his veins, as the other people that constantly torment and abuse him, but no matter what – it will always be my fault.  It’s always my fault because I can see the answers that he cannot.  I can also see the damaged soul that he carries with him, and I can put in the words what he is too weak to speak for himself.  But, most of all I know the man he hides behind and pretends to be, even though he will never admit that evento himself.

It is always my fault, which is why it is easier for him, to do battle with me, someone he feels is week, vulnerable and accepting of more abuse – even though he knows the real truth.  It is easier for him to feel some sense of triumph, to beat his chest and parade his fantastic feathers, because he believes he has conquered me– ‘the good side of him’ which enables him to do this in the first place.  But, the things is, I gave him the chest to swell with pride, I repaired the wings for him to fly again, and I bandaged his wounds so he could heal, so how I can I be at fault?  How, can I be wrong again?

So what do I do next?  Do I let him off the hook again, and pretend that all is as it was, and he can carry on with his ‘happy’ life?

Or do I stand up yet again, and prove to him that he has no right to do war with me, because I am his saviour and not his problem? 00177-10462841_673987222689399_3467623837117453863_n

Or do I add it to the list of unforgivable things that he has done or said in the past, which is making my armour and readiness to do battle with him even stronger?

You tell me.

Sharon Carter-Wray

(5thMarch 2012)

 

I know I was in a really bad place when I first wrote this, and I think it was the start of the deterioration of my marriage. It took until 2 years ago to finally admit to myself and label what had been going on, as mental abuse.  It had been a continual pattern throughout our entire relationship, but marriage somehow reinforced it.  I still carry emotional and mental fears, scars & wounds from that period of my life, but thankfully now I can say it is very much behind me.

I was able to walk away with my dignity intact, but it has made me very vigilant about who I have in my life.

(Updated 26thNovember 2018)

 

 

13. Keeping pace with pain support group

Yesterday, I attended a Keeping Pace with pain group at St Andrews Church in Southampton.  It had been suggested by my key worker, that I might find it beneficial in some way.

So I trundled along not really knowing what to expect, and I am really pleased that I did.  I was made to feel so welcome, and they were all very friendly people.

This session had a speaker- Fran Hodgson, who is a chair bound yoga teacher.  Fran, herself is very inspirational and has a very happy disposition.  At first I thought we would be doing stretching exercises, but instead we were chanting.  But these chants were sung rather than spoken, fortunately I found my voice and was quite tuneful!

It was a real eye-opener!  The whole experience was so uplifting, and I felt really good afterwards. 

They only meet once a month, and each session they do something different.  Every person there suffers from chronic pain in one way or another, but the time was not spent talking about it, which was really refreshing.

I will definitely go again!

Sharon Carter-wray

(16th September 2011)

I continued to attend this group, and others that subsequently grew from it, and I still find it uplifting, especially the art group that also meets once a month on a Tuesday.  This group is completely free to attend, and is run purely on donations.  Unfortunately due to ill health I have been unable to attend this year, but hope to start again in January.

If you have any local support groups like this in your area, that may give you social interaction, it’s worthwhile checking it out, if it’s available.  Sx 🙂

(Updated Tuesday 20th November 2018)

12. Retracing my steps

Finally understanding what being ‘burnt out’ hit home, it made me look at my career to date.  I was always after self-betterment, I had always wanted a ladder to climb to achieve things.  But now, I know all my employers had seen that trait in me, and wanted to make the most of me, while they had me.

At the age of 24, I had literally packed a suitcase, and began a new job that took me off on new adventures.  I spent 10 years of my life travelling the length and breadth of this country, doing store openings for Homebase, B&Q & MFI to name a couple of companies.  Each time, staying away from home for months at a time, until the contract was completed, the store was opened or re-opened to the public for the first time; before we could finally return home or go onto the next job.  It was not an easy job by any means, it was very demanding, each contract was 24 hours a day, seven days a week, living in some hotel or B&B.

After a few jobs, I was no longer doing the ground work, I was managing a team of up to 35 people.  I was responsible for making sure that the job was done well and done right on which ever shift I was working on.  I and my colleague who covered the other shift, were accountable if things went wrong.ff44d-humans2bare2bfragile

After a few years I became an account manager, having direct with the clients I began to run the jobs, organising my teams, sorting transport, accommodation, interviewing & recruiting new staff. All this whilst still travelling to do site visits, which was always rife with some complaint or other, which I had to deal with. When I was not in the office, I would be in my car, it became a very lonely job.  The toll that all these hours behind the wheel of a car would eventually manifest itself later in my life.

With a team of core people, plus locally employed general assistants, we worked hard and played hard.

I used to say, it took a strange breed of fish to do the job, either people were running away from something; or they were trying to find something.

I am not sure which category I fell into, but eventually the need arose for me to find a permanent place, where I could finally hang my hat, and empty my suitcase. bad09-i2bcan2band2bi2bwill

This sadly coincided with the death of my brother, who had been very ill for many years.  It was at that point, that I knew that I had to move on.  I had always said to myself, that by the age of 30, I wanted my first home, and real independence, and a month short of my 30th birthday, I finally managed to achieve just that.

It was a huge turning point in my life, and something I was so proud I was able to achieve on my own.  It meant I finally had a home, a space that I could call my very own.

Sharon Carter-Wray

(9thSeptember 2011)

(Updated Wednesday 14th November 2018)

11. Picking up the pieces

When my doctor signed me off for two weeks with depression, his words of advice were:

“People suffer differently. Some will feel better after a couple of weeks or months and for some it could take years or never”.

I remember thinking ‘it’s not going to take that long for me to get over this, I had things to do, I had to work!  How little I knew then.  And here I am 9 years later, still very much depressed, still on pills, but somehow life is better.

Within the second week, I experienced another panic attack, though not as bad as the first, it was enough to frighten me.  Things that I would have been willing to do before, now scared me, and over the years I experienced many more attacks.

Over the next few months, I took a long hard look at myself, and my life to date.  During my silent years, I began the healing process.  I was still very angry, very anxious and very fragile.  It also helped me to understand that I wasn’t depressed from the date of diagnosis, but instead had been depressed for most of my life.

This was a real revelation, as it was from growing up, during my adolescence, and into my adult life, up to now.  And I was reminded of all the things that had been said, done or happened to me.If you aren't true...

My little demons, that I had hugged so closely, and carried around for so long, had one by one re-presented themselves to me, to face, to overcome or to deal with.  It took me a while to understand what I had to do, but then I realised that unless I addressed each and every one of them, they would never go away.

I had been so angry with my ex employers for the way they treated me, in spite of my real tears, and cries for help they overloaded me, and just expected me to cope.  They had continually allowed me to work under extreme pressure, still meeting my deadlines, still producing the goods for them and being the honest spokesperson.

But what they had not expected was that I would fight back.

The lies they told, and the ignorance they hid behind to protect themselves, astounded me.  Each time they called me in for a “back to work” chat, was an opportunity for them to try and knock me back or have another go.  And though I felt physically weakened, my resolve grew stronger, I was not about to let them off the hook that easily. So eventually, after 12 months, I had my last meeting and walked away feeling a minor triumph.

That was the last straw that broke my back.  But in all fairness, I now know that all my previous employers were equally guilty.  As all of them had in one way or another, exploited my skills and hardworking attitude, and abused my good nature.  The trouble was, I always gave 110%, and they fed me with empty promises – that I kept on eating.

Of course, I have my regrets now for being such a conscientious employee, because I am still paying the price for my commitment to them.  But, in truth I can’t change my attitude towards how I approach doing anything, I will naturally give everything my best shot and more, whether the situation demands it or not.  But I do wonder sometimes wonder how different things might have been for me, if my employers had really used my full potential rather than abusing it…

Sharon Carter-Wray

(18thAugust 2011)

Updated: Tues 13thNovember 2018

 

10. What happened next..

I remember it all so clearly.  That morning, as I walked down that long corridor to the office where I worked, I could feel the tension and anxiety building up in me.  I was physically unstable, my heart was pounding, I was short of breath and I knew my blood pressure was sky high, but I also knew something was desperately wrong.

By the time I sat at my desk, I felt exhausted, I couldn’t think straight, and at that point I knew I had to see my doctor.  So, I told to my team leader, that I wasn’t feeling too good and needed to go to the doctors.  I got an appointment for an hour later.  However, as soon as I put the phone down, the panic attack kicked in.  I found myself gasping for air, burning up, with shooting pains in my chest.  I was terrified of what was happening to me.You have everything in you

But my team leader, didn’t get me an first aider, didn’t take me to my doctors, or call an ambulance, she drove me home!  It was then down to my husband to take me to the doctors.

I was in such a bad state, so as soon as we arrived at my surgery, I was wired up and attached to various machines, which thankfully confirmed that I wasn’t suffering from a heart attack.  But it did show that my blood pressure was a dangerous level.

After about an hour, I finally calmed down enough to see my doctor, who diagnosed depression, gave me some strong tranquilisers and signed me off for 2 weeks.

During that time, I got to know my sofa very well.  I hardly spoke to anyone or did anything else for that matter.  I never did get back to work.

That one day changed the rest of my life, and even now when I think about it, it still hurts.  It was a very scary & painful event, but I also have to admit that it was perhaps the best thing that could have happened to me.  As it made me slow right down and take a good long hard look at my life.  For the moment, I was no longer that strong, confident, straight talking woman instead I was a delicate and very fragile being.

After a few weeks of being off, the local authority that I worked for referred me to Occupational Health and also appointed a Counsellor for me to see.  Now, I have completed a Counselling course, and I know the rules about the client/Counsellor relationship.  But my God, that woman they sent me to see broke every single one of them.  She didn’t listen to me, but instead talked too much, she was opinionated and tried to offer advice.  She opened up a whole can of worms and had no idea how to deal with the contents.  I was so glad when the six weeks were finally up and that I hadn’t fully opened up with her.

It took me a couple of years before I before I really started to talk again, I had become so quiet and withdrawn, I hardly recognised myself.  I gave into the idea that if no one actually listened to me, then I had nothing to say.  And the so called do-gooders, who always thought they knew the answer to my illness, was one by one struck off the list of people I cared for or cared for me.

Crying is how your heart speaks...
Only someone who’s felt real pain could have written this!

I didn’t know it at the time, but later learned that depression makes you lose your confidence, and restricts the ability to do simple things like food shopping, driving a car, getting on a train, feeling comfortable with lots of people just to name a few things.  It can also stay with a person for years, can affect anyone young or old, can be caused by a variety of issues, and most importantly takes away your joy and desire to do anything or enjoy anything.

It is like walking around with your own personal black cloud constantly over your head, everything loses its colour and just turns grey.

I hope that maybe some of my fellow sufferers, who may be reading this, will agree with this description, because the list is extensive and this is just a brief overview.  I have often described it as being at the top of a series of steps.  Most people will suffer from some sort of depression at some time in their life, and will only fall down to the first step; so it’s pretty easy to get back up to the top.

When you are clinically depressed, you fall down many steps, maybe even down to the very bottom.  Then it’s a real struggle to get back up, yet alone climb up the first step.  Again, I can really only comment on my experience, but somehow, I believe that others like me are nodding their heads.

Chronic depression is a real illness caused by a chemical imbalance, and so it is important to understand, that when you are suffering, you cannot get over it on your own.  You need to have medical intervention, you need all the help you can get.Be like the blade of grass..

Depression is too common for there still to be stigma attached to it.

And if you do find yourself on medication, don’t be deterred by non-believers, or those who don’t want you popping pills but at the same time have no viable alternatives to offer.

Depression is very much a personal story, so treat yourself like an individual.

Sharon Carter-Wray

(27thJuly 2011)

 

(Updated Friday 9thNovember 2018)

No ordinary woman

I’ve known for a long time, that I needed to be right here, at this moment. Even though this moment took longer to arrive than I had initially anticipated.

As soon as I left my friend in the car park where she’d dropped me off, I felt the mantle of responsibility and obligation to anyone or anything, gently slip from my shoulders and hit the floor.

I felt more empowered with every step, and braver with every mile added to the distance travelled. Doing something for myself and by myself, something not many of the women in my life would ever dream of doing. Ever.

But I feel free again.

And I am only reminded of how brave I really am, have been and have still yet to be. That I’m not an average woman. Something I’ve said about myself for years, I just hadn’t realised how true a statement it is, or the depth of where that truth came.

But, I guess I was no ordinary child either…

Born with health issues from day 1, I make no bones of telling people that I’m lucky to be here, but they think I mean ‘lucky’ in other ways. Much as I know I’m blessed, that kind of luck has never walked the same side of the road as me.

I learned a long time ago, that whatever I achieved in my life would be off my own back. I have never relied on any one, to get me where I am, even through my most difficult times with my ex. It was a message drummed into my head as a child by my father to fend for myself, basically allowing him to shirk his responsibilities from a very young age.

It’s odd that’s the first time I’ve ever thought of it in that way. The truth is more that I can’t actually remember anything really positive that he did for anyone of us, on a personal level. I know he has never stopped spouting off about ‘the things he’s done for us, but I can’t visualise them. I do remember how he used to be quick at doling out punishment, regardless; and to some degree my mother was no saint in that area either.

But as far as he was concerned, he was the ‘King of the castle’ in his own house, in fact he held that opinion of himself in everyone’s house. He liked to hold court, and even today there is nothing he likes better than a captive audience.

Recently close friends, who really know me have taken the time to remind me of my goodness, and what it is they see in me. Being seen through the eyes of others can be a revelation

I know I have digressed, but only slightly, as it all does play a part at some point on this story… The reason why I have needed to literally run away from my life, run from everything, just so I could press pause, take a moment and breathe.

It’s incredible the difference I feel, within so few short hours, to just be good to myself. I am in no hurry and I have no agenda other than to “just be”. And it feels wonderful to be able to finally let go, and do just that. It is now of course when I realise just how tired & burnt out I really am, and just how much I needed to do this. Perhaps I should entertain the idea of doing this for myself every few months, just to lift my soul enough to stop me falling. This isn’t just a quick getaway, this is good medicine…

Sharon Carter-Wray

(29th August 2018)

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