The letter ‘D’

I’ve been a bad girl..
Well, neglectful at any rate. Debambam tagged me a while back, so far back in fact she’s changed host and site since doing so..
But here we go, The rules are:

1. You have to come up with 10 words starting with a letter that either you choose yourself or that someone chooses for you.

2. These words must be meaningful to you and you must give an explanation of why each of these words are important to you.

I’ll admit it’s not one of the first letters that sprang to my mind, but since I’ve been so long in the doing, Kellys choice is what I’ll go with, what the heck..

Just like this task. But no, that’s how I think of life at the moment – though perhaps ‘tricky’ is a better word (but it doesn’t start with ‘D’ now does it) I’m at the stage in my recovery where I feel like I can do more, but I know I can’t because I have to rein myself in to build on the energy I have instead of squandering it all in one go, it also describes how it is explaining about my illness, this article sums up how I feel in that situation perfectly- it’s tough trying to explain why I look so healthy yet I’m not working or doing anything ‘useful’.

The bane of my existence. I don’t look as though there is anything wrong with me, yet there are many days when all I do is lie around and complain about my aches or lack of mental ability. I’m just waiting for the hammer to fall and the powers that be to tell me I need to be in full time work.
I want to be – I’m sick of being poor. But at the same time I know how just doing a part time course has made me feel, I’m terrified of bringing on a relapse and having to go through the whole claiming process again – it doesn’t just put me through a great deal of stress, it would totally throw out my employer as well.

A term I wish could be applied to me. Even before I fell prey to the dreaded CFS I was nowhere near this status, ok I could clean up when the mood struck – but that’s the point, I only did it when the mood struck. I thought I was an ok cook – till I met Stef.
Nowadays what little skill or ability I had with regards housekeeping has gone. I am in awe of my mil, she can literally do anything even if I had the energy and the inclination to learn I’d have a way to go to keep up with that woman – she’s a powerhouse!

Sadly the story of my life, I only have an overdraft but I never seem to get out of it, I cannot recall the last time I had money of my own instead of pretend money – anyone got a spare £1500 to remind me..? Doesn’t sound like a lot does it. *sigh* Anyone notice how few happy or positive words there are beginning with ‘D’?

Now this holds 2 meanings for me.
Firstly I’m learning to drive a car, it’s costing me more money than I can afford and I don’t really seem to be getting any closer to passing my test, I’m at the point of desperation with it (see, another miserable D word) I really need something to practice in but I can’t afford a car or the insurance – but it’s also getting to the point where I may have to stop the driving lessons anyway as I’ve pretty much reached the bottom of my overdraft, with no real income..
It’s a vicious circle.
Secondly I’m determined (woohoo, a positive one) to not let this illness beat me. I have the drive and motivation to do anything I can to get well enough to work again. Sadly it’s the finances that let me down (as always) but I’m getting there – slowly.

I love to dance, I used to be quite good at it apparantly. Not in any professional way, but people would tend to stop and watch when I shook my lil booty on a friday night in the fishbowl at Jillys.. Ahh the good old days. Dancing for me was a great release, I’d go out just to hit the dancefloor, you could always tell if I’d had a bad night because I’d be drunk – If I was still sober at 5am it meant the tunes had been going my way and I was a sweaty but happy footsore little minx. Even now, if I have the energy and no one’s about I’ll stick on a couple of happy tunes and jig about the flat. I can’t do the clubs anymore but the love of dancing has never left me – there’s always going to be a tune that makes me start – even when I know it’s a bad idea.

That would be me.
I’m broken, mend me with a new one *grin* damaged is probably the more apt word, in fact that will be my next one and I’ll explain why there. But defective sums up my mental and physical state quite well, my life revolves around this damned illness because I have no choice. When I can I do the things that interest me, sadly none of those things are of a physical nature, I can’t really give myself over to the release of dancing like I used to, I can no longer practice Wing chun or jiu jitsu, I can’t even go for the long walks I used to love – because to do so leaves me drained and bed ridden – the fear of that result stops me from doing many things, and yet I still do more than I should according to my CBT therapist.

The thing is – I always used to be on the go, every moment of my life was spoken for. people who know me would never believe it now – but at one time friends had to book me weeks in advance if they wanted to see me, any spare time I had was spent catching up on my sleep or catching up with people online. At one point I was in 3 bands, worked 2 jobs, did a martial art, went out at least 3 nights a week and still fit in visits to and from friends across the country – now I do a part time computer course and think how great it is that I can manage it.
God that’s depressing.

This word was used just this morning to describe my family. The relationship I have with them – that we have with each other – is flawed at best.
I won’t go into any detail but as far as the nature or nurture question goes.. Nurture has a lot to answer for in the way we all deal with confrontation. We do not communicate – and to be honest I don’t think any of us want to, especially with certain members of the family.
It’s hard to mend rifts and to try to help with problems that were in the making before you were even conceived, but to try again and again only to be disappointed, let down and betrayed by people who are supposed to be the closest to you.. Well some damage is beyond repair and that’s when any attempt at a dialogue is closed for good.

I just love the word itself. There is no meaning personal to me – but it conjurs up images of genies and desserts, that little act of thoughtfulness by someone who didn’t need to – it’s just a wonderful expression. Seriously, think of the word ‘delight’ for a moment, doesn’t it just conjure up the image of someone with a beautific grin plastered across their face? The involuntary little jump up and down in a seat whilst excitedly clapping their hands ‘happiness dance’
It’s a great word, we should see more of it.

I love drums, I sold my first drumkit to buy my first motorbike after I gave up attempting to play ’em. I would dearly love to get a V-drum kit (and a place big enough to keep it *grin*) so I could try and take it up again, I was never at any kind of ‘playing with a band’ standard – but man it was fun!
There’s just something about rhythm that gets you – I had a bass guitar once too, sadly I lost contact with the lad who has (had?) it, but I love me some drums – one of my best away breaks was at the womad festival in morecombe – my hands were literally raw that day, I left the drum tent once for a bite to eat – I stayed there till they shut it down.. It was awesome!