The Goddess

I had a really horrid start to the day. My Mum was having one of her 'funny' moods...and I don't mean ha ha type funny. It was the usual 'I'm in a shit mood but I'm not telling you why because you should already be able to guess' business. She was a bitch.

No time for breakfast or a cup of tea. If I didn't go out with her (which I guessed was her real motive) my life would be made even more Hell. It didn't matter that I felt like shit and had hardly slept the night before.

Fortunately, I bumped into my sister Susan (those of you on MCHY know her as susiekatkin) as we walked up the street, who took one look at me as I was walking behing Mum down the street and took me back home and made me a cup of tea. She said that I looked awful.

It's not surprising, really, as I had gone to bed the night before fully dressed, intending to drive away in the middle of the night and kill myself. Mum, Paul and Gabs have driven me that depressed. I really couldn't stand any more, and reasoned that death was easily better than this fucking thing that passes as an existence for me.

Sue was an angel. I had arranged to meet my boss this afternoon, as I have been off work sick with depression for just on six months. She accompanied me, and filled in any missing bits (I am very zombie-like a lot of the time now). My boss, Alex, was wonderful and is going to chase up some company sponsored counselling for me, and has said that when I do feel well enough to return to work I can phase my return back i.e. a few hours here and there to begin with. He's also said that if I need to call and have a chat with him, I can do so at any time...and if there are any problems e.g. in getting the counselling arranged to tell him and he'd go and kick butt.

I realise that I am very lucky to have an employer like that.

I came home feeling drained (I hadn't slept much the night before) but one look at Mum's face when I walked into the house said that I should get the hell out of there right now. I couldn't leave Gab there as well, so I took her shopping with me and bought her an extra birthday present.

Gab and I actually had great fun shopping together. It was lovely to have some relatively stress-free quality time with my daughter. I've also noticed that I can handle her better when I am alone with her. If there's another adult around she plays up more.

She's actually a caring child, my daughter. She looks after me, leading me by the hand when I am having an 'Efexxor' moment. She also made me a lovely cup of tea when we came home.

Mum was in her bedroom when we arrived back (thank God!), but when she did get up later she was absolutely fine, acting as if nothing had happened. This is typical behaviour from her. She feel great at the end...and I am a nervous wreck.

Fortunately, she is going to Sue's tonight. WHOOPEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Paul is nicer to me tonight as well. Last night, I was told not to be so stupid when I informed him that I felt suicidal (he'd asked me how I felt, so I told him!). Paul, Gabs and I had a quick meal out this evening, which was nice, and I ran what I call a 'Goddess Bath' when I came home.

I bet you were wondering where the title of this entry came from, eh?

My Goddess Bath was a cup of sea salt, an assortment of essential oils (rose, geranium, neroli, jasmine and rosewood) and my rose quartz crystals in the bath. I also burned some rose incense in the bathroom, and after shaving and moisturising myself I put on some sexy underwear and set up my Goddess altar as seen in the photo.

Now you could call this my excuse for quiet time. It probably is. But it certainly makes me feel a bit better. I've been feeling so ugly and stupid lately that I felt a Goddess ritual might just help me.

It did. I feel much more womanly now.

I am the sort of person who needs a lot of quiet time each day. A period of stress-free, guilt-free time to myself. My little rituals give me that much needed space.

You can see my rose quartz crystals on the altar (including a kitty rose quartz), a couple of horse chestnuts from the trees by my house, some sea-potatoes (sea urchin cases washed up on Crosby beach), a clear quartz angel, a carnelian kitty, some rhodocrosite pendants, a pair of rose quartz & garnet & rhodocosite earrings, a pair of red coral earrings and of course the remains of my beautiful BiBi in the decorative glass bottle, accopanied by the angel feathers.

After looking at my photo, it also occurs to me that I really need to clean my altar. There's quite a lot of smoke build-up on it...

Another day...

I am really hitting the bottom of the pit with my depression.

I don't seem to be getting better. My GP says give it longer, and so do other friends who work in the mental health field.

That's if I don't do something silly first.

Last night, for example. I felt so bad I went out in my car by myself in the evening. I told my family not to worry, and that I wasn't going to do anything silly, but by God I felt like it!

It is so tempting to just drive away with a bottle of something alcoholic and my meds, find a quiet place and do the dirty deed.

I have tried this before (in 2001), and actually got as far as the Lake District before taking the stuff (I thought that I might as well die in a beautiful place...nuts, isn't it?).

It isn't fair on my family to go through all of this, so I am doing my best not to. Then the flipside kicks in ...'if I wasn't around, they wouldn't have to worry about me...'

So the battle goes on. I struggle through another shitty day, to survive and endure...another shitty day.

Today I have been thinking about Penny. If you are wondering who Penny is, click on the link to Catster on the last post (BiBi's Last Day) and look her up.

It was no coincidence that I had my first suicide attempt approximately a month after she was killed.

I'm having some problems with Paul lately. Of course, he wouldn't admit to it, but we do have some issues. He really doesn't understand depression, and often makes me feel worse with his attitude. Plus, he walks around with a barely-concealed anger that most probably is due to work, but spills out into his private life. It scares me, this silent brooding. It is like waiting for a volcano to erupt...

To be fair to him, it is difficult to live with a depressive, but he's also got problems with work, in that his employers are double-crossing fuckwits. Just like the last lot. And the lot before that.

He really needs to get out of the traning industry, and they all seem to be alike. The problem is that he is very, very good at his job, and really in demand. It is easier to stay within an industry where you have a good reputation, even when they are a bunch of arseholes.

However, even he is getting fed up. For the last few evenings, he has been looking at other jobs and contacting agencies. Maybe he'll strike lucky and land a better job.

I wonder if I'll still be around to see it?

BiBi's Last Day

This is what I posted in BiBi's Catster Diary after she passed over the Bridge...

The Rainbow Bridge

September 12th 2007 12:10 pm [link to this entry]

Well, a lot has happened since I purred my last diary entry.

I was very, very ill on Monday. It hurt for me to be lifted up, so I made myself comfortable on Barney's bed downstairs. Meowmie got down on the floor next to me and stroked me, telling me all the time how beautiful and how loved I was.

She stayed on the floor next to me all evening, stroking me and telling me how much she loved me, right through until 3:50am in the morning, (September 11th), when I felt really, really strange. Meowmie picked me up and held me like a baby as I took a few gasps...and then something strange happened.

The pain went away. The discomfort left me, never to return. My lumps has disappeared and I could run free again. My heart felt light, full of love and joy. I felt myself rise up high, so high that I could look down on everything, just like a bird.

I looked back and saw Meowmie take my body and clean it lovingly. She gently placed it on my cat bed, in front of a large candle and incense.

When daylight finally broke through the window, heralding a new day, Meowmie went into the front garden and plucked the biggest, most aromatic pink rose and placed it lovingly on my body.

All of my furblings came and said goodbye to me.

I wondered why they were saying 'Goodbye', because I was still close to them.

Then I saw a wonderful rainbow-coloured light. As I watched, I saw it take shape into a beautiful arched bridge.

I felt compelled to cross this lovely bridge. I knew instinctively that there was love, light and joy across there.

Across the other side there was a field of emerald green grass. A milky stream ran alongside. The sky was an incredible shade of azure blue. It was neither too hot nor too cold, but just right.

Then I saw some figures in the distance. As they came close to me, I saw that they were my loved ones who had already passed over.

I ran to greet them, feeling as light as a feather....



Goodbye, beautiful BiBi!

Tired, tired, tired

Crap!

I am fed up with feeling tired all the time.

I'm fed up with feeling depressed.

I'm fed up with feeling the grief over losing my little BiBi. It brings back memories and flashbacks of the other loved ones I have lost.

Just now it reminded me of losing my Uncle Mick. Who's he? Well, he was actually my cousin (Auntie Marie, Dad's eldest sister, accidentally got pregnant and gave birth in front of the fireplace in Nan and Grandad's house...she was such a big lady then that no-one knew she was up the duff! Nan brought him up, hence Uncle Mick.)

Uncle Mick found out who his real Mum was in the cruelest way. Nan died in the early 1970's, and as he was in the Merchant Navy he couldn't get back in time for the funeral. When he did get back (understandably upset), he apologised for not being able to attend. Grandad chose that time to tell him who he really was...

Grandad Kershaw was like that. Dad didn't like his Dad much, as a result of that and other things...

Not surprisingly, he went off the rails. Petty crime, drinking, stuff like that. He even 'borrowed' a double decker bus once and drove it back to base so that he would get back to the ship on time. Dad was the eldest brother and always felt like a father to Mike, but when Mike moved down to Portsmouth we lost a lot of contact with him.

We knew he'd got married and had a couple of kids down there.

Then in 1994 he came to Liverpool. Divorced, but turning over a new leaf in life, he was getting by, had a new job and was setting up a new home.

The last I heard, he was decorating a spare bedroom for his kids to stay in when they visited him.

Then we got the call.

It was Autumn 1994. One of Dad's brothers rang to tell us that Mick was dead. Murdered. Stabbed to death.

And who had done this terrible deed?

Mick's half-brother...my cousin Mark!

Auntie Marie had finally settled with one man. Uncle Rufus from Nigeria. They had one child, a boy called Mark who was a year or two younger than me. By all accounts, Mark was doing well, and was training to be a solicitor.

How had this happened? Mick had asked Mark to look after some money for him. After asking for a while, Mick came to Mark's home to ask what had happened to the money. There was an altercation, and Mick ended up being stabbed in the back. Mark went on the run, but was found in another cousin's house.

Apparently, in court Mark went through the most incredible contortions to try to justify how he'd come to stab Mick in the back. No-one believed him. He got 12 years.

He's out of jail now. Mick is dead.

And my Dad is dead. My Mum couldn't bring herself to break the news to Dad, so I had to. Have you ever seen anyone crumple up and age before your eyes? I did that very morning.

Dad was never the same again. He aged rapidly. Before then, he'd fought his many illnesses. After that, I think he was just marking time.

Dad died in Spring 1998. Auntie Marie had died in Spring 1995. Uncle Rufus was dead by the time of the trial.

R.I.P all of you. May you all rest happier in Heaven than you were on Earth.