Bethlett .

119 . From time to time I go quiet. I'm not purposely being rude or ignoring people I just go quiet. It's like I don't have the thoughts for a fluid conversation. I seem to become comfortable with no thoughts at all.  I would say I have always been a loner, this used to bother me but now I kinda enjoy it. I enjoy my own space, being silent for a while. It doesn't mean anything is wrong it just means I'm, well I don't know what it means really.  I guess I often fight a thought in my head that tells me relationships are difficult to maintain, too much work, when really they aren't at all. I'm very capable of keeping relationships going, that shows with Rob, family and a small handful of friends. I wonder if I think this because the longer someone sticks around for the less I can pretend I'm an outgoing funny person. Like I said I'm really quite quiet and I have a lot of deep thoughts.  I sometimes think that part of the reaso

118 . Change is a wonderful thing, change is a time for learning and growth. Change is positive, time to move on, time for a new adventure...change terrifies me!!!  This week I leave the job I have done for the last 4 and a half years. I leave the comfort of knowing what I do and that I do it well. I will put my uniform on for the last time before moving onto something new. A place with no uniform, a place where I'll know nothing, I'll know nobody. I'm starting a whole new chapter for my book which is my life. Am I ready? Not really, am I scared? You bet I am! Am I excited? ABSOLUTELY! The learning doesn't scare me, getting things a bit wrong doesn't scare me because that's to be expected. No way am I going into this knowing what I'll be doing. But I know that in time once a routine is together I'll be fine.  You all know I'm about routine, I'm a creature of habit so what scares me is that for a while I'll not really ha

117 . September to me is a transition month. We go from our long bright nights and the feeling of summer freedom to nights slowly getting more dark and a chill appears. It's not a gloomy month but it doesn't have the same pep in its step like July and August.  It's a time of new beginnings, the trees slowly losing their leaves, the bare branches bedding in for the cold winter ahead. September is preparing for the long British chill that we seem to have for a much longer period than the warmth.  I look forward for the arrival of Autumn that September slowly brings, it's my favourite season. There's so much beauty in it. I love the orange overtone that the fallen leaves bring. I love the misty mornings and in all honesty I enjoy the rain. It fascinates me. We don't question the giant in the skies tears when September comes along. We allow him to be a bit sad.  Now September is here we are entering the tail end of the year, we are starting to

116. Today I'm feeling down, I'm not sure why, nothing has happened its just the feeling today has brought me. I wrote a post yesterday that I thought may make sense to someone but I feel like maybe it's come across wrong. Then as I was trying to fall to sleep I wrote another post because my mind wouldn't let me rest until I did. And today I've woke like this. All connected? Maybe so. Sometimes you just feel sad. I think today I'm allowing myself to feel certain emotions, I'm feeling grief and I'm feeling guilt. Grief for those who has passed, someone close passed recently and I only shed a few tears. I'm slowly realising that holding back tears for a long time is maybe making lose the ability all together. Of course that's not fully true, I can cry, I will cry but it seems that the moments I should cry a thousand tears I only cry a few.  Anyway I don't want to write about that stuff today. I just wanted to say I've set up an email,

115. Sleep intrigues me. The thought of not waking up doesn't frighten me, I'd never even know. I imagine that would feel like a really long sleep anyway, so that thought never enters my mind. What gets me is while my mind is at rest and my body is so comfortable I no longer can feel it, their are still people wandering the streets. There are homes still full of life. The contrast couldn't be anymore different. My night of rest can be someone else's night of horror, and I would never know. Why is it that at what should be the most peaceful time of day the mind can be its most awake? Why in the quiet of the empty rooms around us, must our minds fill with words, thoughts, worries? Why can our minds keep us up for most of the night with subject matters that never enter our brains forefront during the day? Why is it at night, in the quiet, the dark, we become our most vulnerable?  It's currently 1:17am while I write this. What's the point? My mind won

114. I was inspired today, inspired by a video by a Youtuber called Tessa Violet. Her video featured another Youtuber, who I'm slowly becoming obsessed with called Dodie Clark. Both are beautiful musicians who I'd recommend highly to you all.  Anyway, they recently made a video together called 'why I don't get excited' on Tessa's channel and I watched it and so much of it resonated to me. I'd quite like you to just watch the video yourself rather than me explain it. It's not mine to explain.  One thing that stuck out was when Tessa says 'I refuse to feel excited about anything until it's happening' when she said this I thought 'wow, it's not just me who feels this way'...let me explain. I hate, okay hate is a strong word, I highly dislike allowing myself to get excited about plans, ideas etc because I feel like if I do they won't happen. Something will pop up and stop whatever it is before it's due to happ

113 . I'm not used to this... Used to this feeling of things going well. I'm not trying to be a pessimist I promise. I just think I'm programmed to question when things start to go well for a while. My brain freaks out waiting for something to go tits up or not to plan.  I guess, well I guess I should explain. I have always grown up and taught myself to expect the worst but secretly hope for the best. I've found when I've mentioned things before they happen they fail and I end up disappointed. This has been the case since I was little so, yeah, I guess I've  programmed myself this way now. Sorry!   As most of you know the last few years have been tough. Even this year started out rough. But somehow, the universe has changed things around for me. I've had a very good positive two months!!  The luck started to change by being involved in a national charity campaign for MND which led to me being featured in the local paper, then during that

111. "I don't wanna be a human anymore, I'm done..." "Make me a robot" Tessa Violet - Make Me A Robot There are certain days when I feel like I'm just not that ready. I'm not sure how I will cope in the days upcoming situations or how conversations may make me feel. There are days when I will create the character of myself so others don't see the broken version of me behind. Do you have days like that?  Actually, thinking about it, I don't always have days like this, I can have a perfectly unperfect day with no problems yet I'll have minuscule moments where I need the mask of me to cover me for a few minutes. Just until I can turn around and wilt in my internal storm of slight heartbreak, utter embarrassment or any other unpleasant feeling my mind wasn't quite ready for. When the mask is on and the character is displaying a full award winning acting performance, I feel nothing and everything all at the same tim

110. Do you ever want to write a letter. Not to anyone in particular. To a random address, a random person, just to see what would happen. Would they read it? Would they reply? Who knows.  People don't write letters anymore, everything is so easy with social media. I understand, why wait for a long time for a reply when you can receive one instantly? You can talk to someone on the other side of the world freely with zero issues, well apart from the occasional dip in Internet signal.  I remember being young and always wanting post from the postman, I never had anyone to send me a letter or a postcard but when a school friend would go on holiday and send me something in the post I loved it. It seemed so exciting. Now the only post I get is bills, and they are never exciting.  Can you imagine writing to a complete stranger? Ha isn't that what I'm doing right now? But in all seriousness, when a stranger gives us a compliment, a random smile as you walk past

109. I started my blog with the intention of building my self confidence, I wanted to put together a bucket list and slowly but surely cross each one off. I wanted to build myself up as a person, have stories to tell. It soon became apparent that my blog was destined for other things, I tried the popular blogger stuff of makeup tutorials etc but quite frankly, I'm much better putting makeup on rather than sitting and typing about my favourite products, it's much more fun that way. I soon realised the purpose of my blog was to give attention to the little voice in my head. The voice that over the years has hurt my confidence and self esteem. By giving it a platform I was able to release it all together. I now can see that I didn't need a bucket list to change me or build me back up, I just needed to quieten that voice by getting rid of it at dark times.  That being said, the darkest time so far, the illness and heartbreaking passing of my dear dad. Never would I

108. In a matter of hours we enter Sunday, no big deal. However in those few hours we enter Father's Day. For someone who no longer has a father it's going to be an upsetting day. Yeah I probably won't cry, I might only say a few words out loud about him but in my heart, my heart will be aching a little extra tomorrow.  Last year I remember being very jealous, I couldn't even look at the Father's Day cards that where displayed everywhere! And they were very hard to avoid because I work in a bloody supermarket!! This year, they haven't bothered me. I laughed to myself and my friend when I saw the last Father's Day card I got my dad. It was a giraffe that when you opened the card up its tongue stuck out haha makes me giggle just thinking about it. I remember it made him giggle too.  As the days, weeks and months go by I wonder about what actually happens when you pass away. I wonder if he can hear me and see me or if he picks and chooses who to vi

107. Do you ever feel like you're screaming but there's no noise? It's raining but no one gets wet? And everything happens at once but nothing happens at all?  You sit on the edge of your bed holding your head, your hands sometimes feel like the only thing keeping your head high. The rest of the body just wants to be like a pile of clothes on the floor messy and serving no purpose. But there.  Each day is your battle, winning is making it to bedtime. Each day fighting to survive. That's what life is isn't it? A fight? Sometimes against others but mainly against yourself? Yes?...No?  Your brain gets fuzzy, your body gets tense, your thoughts get chaotic, your voice is loud but as quiet as a mouse. Your mind is always catching up or racing far ahead. It never understands.  You feel like standing in a empty room and letting your body go mental, like those intense singers in bands who let it all go, sometimes...most times that's what you need to

106. I recently got asked if my outlook on life has changed since losing my Dad. I struggled to think of an answer. When he passed away my life felt so consumed by the loss and also the emotions I felt building up to the day he passed away, it's hard to think about how I was as a person before it all.  I maybe don't see life differently as such but I see people differently. Before I would be quite narrow minded, black and white. So if someone was acting different to what I classed as 'normal' I would label them weird. I couldn't see a reason behind their actions. But now I see that not everything we see as passers by is concrete information. We have literally no idea what goes on behind closed doors. We don't know other people's struggles. I've learnt to have patience, more respect and more understanding.  Don't get me wrong naturally for a while my thoughts where 'live everyday as your last' etc etc but the way I am, it's no

105. The voice in our minds is the loudest voice we can ever listen too! It's the only voice we hear 24/7. It's the most powerful tool in our minds. That being said why do we mute our external voice? Why do we hold back so much we are bursting to say? Obviously to spare others feelings, and all that jazz but sometimes there are things we are needing to tell someone to help ourselves yet we block it from exiting the place it's building up in.  The power of talking is incredible, we all have certain parts of our lives we want to keep quiet, we try to forget they ever happened. Maybe it hurt, maybe it's so embarrassing we want to forget all about it. Sometimes though our mind does anything in its power to release the words. Even if it's to one person or merely saying the words out loud in an empty room it's as though our mind is able to take a huge sigh of relief once we say it. The power of not talking is also incredible. The lengths some people go to

104. Today I'm having a day where I just want to be sad. The events over the past 2 weeks and the news from Sunday is all starting to hit home I think. Sometimes things happen that we have no control over. We say there must be a reason but we never find out fully what that reason is. I want to mention this because I feel I shouldn't hide from it. I don't want pity, this isn't about that. I feel like I have to process it all, and for me sometimes it's simply writing it down and then I can try and move on, never forget, just continue my life. On Sunday 1st May I found out I had heartbreakingly had a miscarriage. I was 7 weeks. May not seem much but it is everything to me. Before Sunday I had 2 weeks of worry, things seemed off. I got told I had a haematoma but was nothing to worry about, then 3 days after being told that we were told our little peanut, or seahorse as I described it had no heartbeat anymore. Heartbreaking. I have grown through a lot of situat

103. Hello old friend...let's face it, you never really go away do you?  You seem to have appeared again today. Something I wasn't expecting. Why do you sit in the background for so long? Why do you just appear? When are you going to leave me alone? I have an illness that can't be seen I have an illness some people don't believe, something that makes me crumble, makes me sad and makes me want to run away. But I can't run, because you follow me old friend.  Why do you create a storm in my brain? I feel like you laugh while you do it. You know the results of your presence and you love to carry on...I hate it. You make me so weak. You've took and you continue to take my life. The things I enjoy, you've replaced them with crippling fear. A fear of something so irrational it makes others laugh. Sometimes I laugh about it to myself, I laugh at how stupid it is. But you won't let me forget it. You don't let me think straight, my tornado brain is a

102. I don't like to talk about grief very much. I know last year I wrote about it a few times but I hold myself back from it a lot. The words 'grief' and 'grieving' are uncomfortable words to me. They are uncomfortable because when you lose someone close to you, they will never be forgotten about, the love and memories will always be there. And so they should. I feel those words put a label on feelings that should be felt and always will be felt. Whether they are felt strongly or not, your body needs to feel them.   I can't explain it very well. Maybe I shouldn't even try too... The feeling of loss is always there. Sometimes it hits you in the face as though it just happened, other times it sits nicely in a corner of our brains.  With time we learn to control it better. We hide it from others.  What I struggle with is when my brain wants to talk about it but the reaction of others silences me. Why does this natural feeling of missing someon

101. A moment can rekindle a memory that happens so fast you forget to breath. Everything flashes back as if you are back there, taking in that air that has since disappeared. It can be beautiful...breathtaking.  A dream can feel so real it's as though you never slept at all. They are so powerful in their message that you can't bring yourself  back to reality. Maybe you just want to stay there? Or maybe you want to run all together? Only you and your dreams know.   Moments where life is completely still but completely chaotic. When there's nothing to do but 10,000 things to get finished.  Breathe... I looked at a photo and I was back there, I had a dream I didn't want to wake from. It felt so real. And I always do nothing when I have everything to do.  They are just some of the pleasures and perils of life...embrace them. Much love Beth xx

100 . 
 Why are we here? What is the point to this huge social experiment we are partaking in? You don't know? Yeah me neither. 
 You'd think for my one hundredth post it would be something inspiring, something I have spent a long time putting together. The truth is it isn't. I'm sat here with no reason at all to write. I have nothing meaningful to say...at least I don't think I do, let's just see how this pans out. 
 I have a confession, I've thought about stopping. I've been questioning myself about carrying this on. "What's the point" my mind is asking. My reply is, well, I have no reply. What is the point? Is the point egotistical reasons? Maybe, sometimes. Is the point to help me? It was and more than likely will be again one day. But right now, this moment there is no reason to carry this on. Not like I have been anyway. Trying hard to post something new each week. I'm enjoying the space from the pressure I found I created f

99 . It's been a year. 365 days. I'm not sure that's something I will ever be able to digest mentally. The sheer speed at which it has past. The realisation there's been no contact. No existence anymore.  Not being able to see you in all that time has been possibly the only thing I've coped with because I can see you in my mind. In my dreams. What I've found difficult to comprehend is I haven't been able to speak to you, hear your voice or even send a text message. I still have you in my phone, your name is still in my contacts but the truth is that number will be someone else's now. I can't call. I've found those the hardest moments because I will always remember your face but your voice has become increasingly more difficult to remember. It's painful.  I've thought about you everyday and recently you have been in my dreams. They are so bittersweet...I have to wake up. I wake up with the fact that you're no longer in my

98. To you I'm yet to meet.  One day I'll lock eyes with you and my love will be unconditional. You will lay in my arms and I will help you grow. Your personality will be a little of mine and a little of his but mostly your own.  I can't say who you will look like most and I won't be able to say for certain what hair colour you will have but you will be beautiful because you'll be the person you are meant to be.  If you ever read this I want you to know that I never want you to feel like you have to justify who you are. I don't want you to feel stress or pressure for you will be. I don't want you to sit me down to tell me your sexuality, just let me meet whoever they are no matter the gender. I don't care if you want to wear makeup or dress in clothing that's for a particular sex. All I want for you is to be happy, because I will support you through everything.  I will never let you feel like you can't do something, I'll

97. I don't remember her voice but I remember her bright pink cardigan with cats on, I remember watching her bake jam tarts. I remember her roast dinners and the weird doll with a knitted skirt toilet roll cover. She couldn't walk far because she would get dizzy, we'd have fish and chips on a Friday and I'd always get a chicken for her on a Monday. She let me eat the skin. She let me eat the cake batter until the news said it wasn't safe. We would watch Jerry springer together and she would allow me to play with my dolls house. She had a very itchy sofa bed in the dining room but I always slept on the floor in her room. I remember her jewellery box, I'd open it and play with the beads. She had a skin tag on her neck that I was fascinated with. I remember her glasses and wrinkly skin. She took me to kwik save. I stopped her from falling over in the kitchen when she had a dizzy spell. She had a collection of Tetley ornaments she'd get from special Tetley

96. I usually write these posts the same way, I seem to find the words to write whilst I'm on the bus to work. I don't know why because it's just a simple bus journey. The same faces everyday no one speaks but those who are couples or friends. The bus journey is our little bubble I guess.  I look out the windows to the same green fields and dark trees, sometimes I spot something new which catches my eye. I often wonder where each of these people are going. Are they going home or just starting their day like me? Is this bus journey the quietest part of their day? Their mini escape from the blur that the actions of the day causes. I have no idea. But I like that, I can create a story in my mind for the strangers around me. I hope their days are positive and joyous. In my mind their lives are perfect. Maybe they try to think that too. Even if it is just for the 20 minute bus journey.  The truth is I'll never know these people, we'll more than likely ne

95 . There's something about this time of year I don't like. Everything looks grey, maybe that's because of the rain, causing the ground and the trees to look darker. I always feel this time of year looks 'untidy'.  It feels like there's a lot of pressure this time of year. A lot of people set these goals in their minds for what they would love to do and achieve but the realisation that anything worth doing takes time can feel overwhelming. I think we sometimes forget that not everything in life is instant. Memories and achievements stem from work. Hard work, that in the end is something to be proud of. That feeling of accomplishment is something we all love to feel.  The dull days of January can make it difficult to remain focused. The cold days are boring. Why venture into the chill when we can be warm in front of the tele?  And then, before we know it a month or two has gone by.  That's why I don't like this time of year muc

94 . I desperately want to write but I have nothing to write about. It's like my brain is teasing me, it desperately wants me to write something inspiring, something for me to be proud of but its not giving me the creativity and inspiration I need to actually write. Thinking about it though, I don't believe I will ever be proud of something I have written because if I was then maybe, just maybe I'd think there was no point to write anymore. I'd have nothing to push myself towards. But right now, I just want something to write about. I'm sitting here twiddling my thumbs, I'm completely racking my brain and all I can think about is how terrible my handwriting is. Pointless when this is on a computer screen... You see I don't want to constantly write about sad things. Even though this is my outlet I just don't want to read these back one day and only see negativity. But with how this batch of writers block is going I may have no choice. This year I

93 . We spend so much time looking to the future we're missing today. By the time the future arrives it becomes history.  Create a daily goal and achieve it. That way you're not missing the present. Much love Xx