OuterCore

The problem with me...

Is that I am not very good at commitment. I don't know why - I certainly don't have any of the usual excuses. The way this manifested itself today was in my realisation that I would rather die than stay in the same job for more than 2 years. Maybe it's just that the jobs of the people I was tlaking to today would be wrong for me, in which case it's ok, but I do suspect that there's something deeper, a part of me that still can't sit still.

I didn't realise any of this when I married Stuart. I wonder if, as it would now be three and a half years in, I'd be freaking out about commitment, or would I have really got it? I think when I was a teenager I was scared of commiting to boyfriends, or friends, or career choices, because there was always the thought that something better might come along, plus the fear that if I stuck around too long the cracks might start to show, and I would be rejected. Better to dump than be dumped, right? Wrong. But it is interesting how my lack of commitment can be traced both to a hope and a fear. I guess when things were really hard there was a always a fantasy of something amazing, just around the corner, that would lift me, or some kind of 'us' when I was being familial, out of the mud. There's a fine line between fantasy and hope.

A list of things that I thought would be the lift out of the ghetto/myself:

• Getting a scholarship to Alleyns in Year 7. I was bullied a lot, ostensibly because of my background (innit), so left after 1 year


• Going to Italia Conti - aka Stage School. I pulled out when I realised I'd have to study elocution instead of humanities. Now I have no desire to be an actress at all. It's so good that I didn't go to Italia Conti straight after Alleyns. I'd have exploded aged 20 in a blaze of self-worship and self-loathing and drugs and ego.


• Friday nights with boys - I thought if I was the prettiest/funniest/loudest/most popular, I would be able to forget about how bad Alleyns had been. I met a lot of nice boys, but hurt a lot of them, and I still hated myself, so that didn't really work


• Being the thinnest - so here was where I developed an eating disorder. It ruined my reproductive system for 6 years, and made me not like other girls very much, but being the thinnest did not really change anything. Thankfully that's been completely healed, and really recently the other consequences have been taken away too


• Being the cleverest - this is probably the longest-living of my just-round-the-corner hopes. From the age of 8, I thought if I could just get to the magical 'Oxbridge', I would be able to save myself and my family from a life of poverty, and that no-one would ever look down on me again. When I didn't get a First in my BA I felt like I'd finally stepped off the rollercoaster of grades. So anyway, being clever hasn't saved my family, and it hasn't made my Dad not-ill


• Finding a new boyfriend after Stuart died. This was a really stupid idea. You should never do this

There are more, but that's a long-enough list as it is. So the bottom line is, none of them worked. So my conclusion is that there isn't some mystical, magical just-around-the river-bend which will deliver us from all that binds. I can think of some big things in my life that have brought about profound changes- my marriage to Stuart, times spent sailing, my daughterness of God, and CLC-community. All of those things have actually taken quite a lot of hard work at times, and none were anticipated.

So what I need to do, quite clearly, is stop waiting for some ship-coming-in moment, and commit to making existing things good.

Sorry that's quite long. Here is a picture of my desk to give you some eye-candy!



That was a long entry, but it was good for me to think about.

3 Kommentare 1.11.05 19:48, Comment

Fingers McFingers

I shredded my little finger today:

Now it's gone:

 

Here are my shoes:

2 Kommentare 3.11.05 10:51, Comment

Weird things

On Thursday I had an incredibly painful shoulder, so painful that I had cried at work the day before. On Thursday morning, my housemates prayed for me, and I felt this weird tingling in my shoulder, and I actually said "No, not like this, it's too cheesy", but when the tingling stopped the pain had gone. Today I had a migraine, the sort that usually lasts about 24 hours. Marika prayed for me, and as she prayed I felt a lump of pain leave my forehead, and the sickness dissapate.

I am actually a bit cross with it all. Cross because I'm going to have to change my worldview. Cross because it's all so flipping unpredictable. Angry because recently a good friend lost a relative, and two good friends have relatives who've been told they're going to die. Angry because Stuart died, because my Dad is still ill. I'm sorry I'm so ungrateful. I really am glad the migraine's gone. But what i want to know is, why can't it happen more, but to people who need it more? I want to bargain with God - how many hours of headache can I give you for Jim's Grandad? Or J's brother? Can I take back the pain in my shoulder, and transfer the healing to my Dad? I suspect the answer is no.

So as of today, I believe in healing. Reluctantly, and petulantly, I'm awed and enchanted by God.



And now for something completely different.
These images should prove beyond all doubt that I do not have the same nose as Stephen!






The fireworks were really good tonight. So that's why we pay council tax!

2 Kommentare 5.11.05 23:03, Comment