Well I’ve definitely got more to say today, which is kind of ironic, because it’s basically to say that I don’t personally aspire to things…

There are so, so many fucking terrible effects of having the kind of past that pocketcanadian and I, and so many other people, have. And this is one of the ones that I annoyingly ended up with. Though, out of all the crappy things, this is definitely one of the least crappy, and one I don’t notice until I start really thinking about it for whatever reason.

I can’t remember exactly when I first heard it, but I do remember hearing the phrase sense of a forshortened future, and thinking oh fuck, and feeling that heavy feeling in your gut when something clicks and suddenly makes sense, and is yet another crap reminder of how you can’t ever seem to escape this shit. Because it was something I never thought about, and didn’t even recognise in myself until hearing that crap phrase and how it was an after-effect of trauma.

Here’s a little summary of it’s input thus far:

  • A general and massive sense of futility. Not hopelessness, not sad or anything, just a ‘why does it fucking matter’ futility. Why does finding a job that I want to do matter? Why does moving away from people that might be holding me back matter? Why does getting help matter? Why does any of this bullshit matter?
  • Going through exams at school, GCSEs, A-Levels, and being asked a hundred times over what I wanted to do, and thinking ‘I don’t know…nothing. It doesn’t matter, I won’t reach that age. I won’t get to 17, so I don’t need to choose my A-Level subjects…I won’t get to 18 and need to apply to university’. It wasn’t a feeling of I’ll be dead by then (although I did used to frequently fantasize about something happening to me, becoming terminally ill, dying in some sort of accident), it was just an inexplicable, I won’t be here, I won’t reach that age.

I try not to think about it, the long-term future. I start to think about what I want to do, what I might be doing in 10 years time and my head just goes foggy, I give up exploring those kinds of things, because I get anxious, I get so anxious and panicky, because I just can’t seem to be able to do it. I try to logic myself through it, particularly now that I know what this is and where it comes from, and yet my body just screams back that it won’t ever happen, that whatever I’m trying to imagine won’t be my life. That I’ll never get that far. So, I plan my life 12 months at a time, maybe 24, or in the case of whilst I was at university, 36 months. But it’s a block at a time, a goal at a time, all short-term, all small steps leading to some sort of future. And it’s a bit risky, I’m choosing these steps without knowing where they’ll lead. Because how do you choose a subject to study at university without knowing what you want to do at the end of it? Normally you choose to follow up with a postgrad because you want to further your knowledge or take that step to get the job that you want. But in my case it was just something to fill another year of time, something to do. And that’s difficult, finding the next thing to do for the next year just to fill your time, feeling like you have to take it one year at a time because you can’t look at your life long-term like normal people, you don’t see yourself having that long future.

So, I don’t fucking know what my aspirations would be if I could let myself have them. Well, removing all the bullshit effects of trauma would be number 1, but that’s perhaps just a tad unrealistic of me. So I’ll end by telling you a couple of my shorter-term goals instead, because for me, these smaller yearly goals take the place of other peoples life or long-term aspirations. 1. to get a different job. 2. to sit in the same room as pocketcanadian, finally. 3. to keep going with this blog, right through to day 365.

Okay, that’s all I’ve got…

three: aspire

i’m not having that great of a day. it was busy, and my brain was being mean, a real dick. i want to write something inspiring that will strike awe into all who read it but i can only muster a list. sorry, friends.

i aspire to be

  • kind
  • present
  • trustworthy
  • thoughtful
  • perceptive
  • gentle
  • attentive
  • a good mama
  • a loving partner
  • a mindful friend

but also, i also aspire to become

  • steady and steadfast
  • a more worthy opponent to shame & fear
  • a person who is on time more often
  • patient
  • a boundary ninja
  • a careful guardian of my heart
  • a published author
  • a better mama
  • a better partner
  • a better friend


Oh ffs. I know these are words we both chose and seemed good at the time, but could we not just have some really good ones to get us going? And seriously, any other damn colour would have been better, but it has to be violet?!

So, I’m still sitting in bed this morning (though I really should get up and shower for work, not write this), and I’ve had my cup of coffee and I’ve flicked through all of my photos that I’ve taken on my phone, because there must be some in there that are violet… There’s loads in there, surely out of all of them there’s one?

This is what I’ve got:

And now, I could give you my entirely irrational ridiculous rant about why I don’t like hydrangeas (just pick a colour and stick to it) but it’s probably best not to come across completely crazy on only day 2. Just know it bugs me that the plant to save my arse with this prompt is a hydrangea.

Hoping there’s more to say for tomorrow’s word…

two: violet

here are today’s free (and batshit bonkers) associations on our daily theme:

1- isn’t violet just a uppity, snooty word for purple? i mean, what’s the difference?

2- this is the colour i see in my mind, when i say violet:

photo cred: pocketcanadian, circa july 2018

3- i kept having some intrusive thoughts about how violet is only one letter away from violent…i don’t know why i kept thinking that. i don’t feel like exploring that any more so i won’t.

4- it also made me think of the heart emoticon pocketbrit and i use when we text…early on, i feel like we sent all means and shades of hearts to each other, but these days, it’s only  Purple Heart on Google Android 9.0 that we use. sometimes we use it when we’re full of love for each other, and are compelled to send a bunch in a row to make sure the other person can feel it. sometimes we use it when we don’t have any words, when we’re just grateful for the other’s presence. i think we always use it when we say goodnight. so yeah, this violet heart is for her, it seems…i can’t imagine using any other one. Purple Heart on Google Android 9.0

Fortitude (1)

Okay so I’m not a big fan of this word, not because I dislike it but because I don’t feel like I have an awful lot to say about it. So, I’m going to jokingly blame the word being in our list on pocketcanadian (because there is no way I added it given my simpleton vocabulary…) and give this a go anyway.

I think I’ve got a bit of a skewed idea of what it really means to deal with something with fortitude.  Rather than just being courage in pain or adversity, I add on the expectation of being unwavering…you can’t falter, you never doubt yourself, you don’t have days when it all feels way too much, or that you’re doing the wrong thing etc. Which probably explains why it’s not a word I use or associate with anything – because it’s just not realistic that anyone is every entirely unwavering… you can’t go through pain or adversity never getting upset or hurt, never doubting yourself or getting scared or wanting to give up. And doing those things doesn’t actually mean you aren’t courageous. But I still don’t really like it.

one: fortitude

okay, so here’s what’s what: i groaned this morning when i saw this was our first word.

for real. and out loud.

i then cursed pocketbrit, because what the eff* were we thinking, choosing such an old-timey sort of word in the first place?! and also, what the eff, randomizer, thanks for selecting such a lame-ass** word to start us off. and could we be more cliché?!

but i’ve had all day to think about it. and see, i’m good at thinking. overthinking, in particular. you will learn this about me, in fairly short order, i suspect.

and as much as i don’t identify with this word, along with so many of its cringe-worthy synonyms (courage, bravery, endurance), there were some i liked, and wanted to keep close to my heart. words like spirit. and grit. and also, strength.

because honestly, this trauma bullshit is bullshit.*** it really, really is. i hate so much about it: the fleetingness of my well-being. the dread i start to feel when i’ve had a few good days in a row. the impact it has on every relationship in my life, on my parenting, my marriage, my rest. how my brain sometimes turns on me, even in sleep, so i wake soaking and shaking and sobbing from horrifying dreams only to re-remember that they really happened. that i’m that girl, who grew up into this woman, whose brain locked away things that happened in the bedrooms and campers and living rooms and basements of our past(s)…

i don’t necessarily wear the badge bearing the word fortitude in that popular cursive way in which everyone writes these days (you know the font i mean, slathered on everything from baby announcements to coffee menus to marijuana dispensaries), but fuck,**** you know what, i’m still here. and i know it doesn’t count for much, but i haven’t tapped out yet. neither pocketbrit nor i have, even though sometimes we question our judgements on that decision…

so, cheers to you, fortitude. i think we’ve got a bit o’ you in us, because we’re still here.

* i am undecided about whether i will curse here…
** yeah so that didn’t last
*** truly, this is how i talk in real life so i suppose it’s good i get it out of the way in the first post?
****yup, i said it. no need to wait