Yesterday was not a day I wanted to write about, really, it was a little too much. Anyway, I can’t because it’s work, and whilst I adore my job still, it’s hard not being able to share details about it when you’ve had such a weird day, but work colleagues are good for that. I was more angry with myself that people kept asking me if I was okay, because i’d let myself get overwhelmed- being female and ‘small’, I’m often thought of as not being strong enough, and yesterday I gave those people who think that already ammo to keep seeing me as weak. Work is full of stressful and new experiences to get through, but now i’ve ticked one off my list I guess. (Oh god, that’s probably the worst joke to make, the gallows humour i’ve developed is also fairly disturbing to me!)
Anyway, on the train home I wrote a poem in my head about grief, maybe to deal with the thoughts racing round my head. When my mum died, all anyone did was offer me a cup of tea. I drank so much, I’m sure caffeine filled my veins. I think it was a natural reaction to dealing with those grieving, but it means I associate it with that period of numbness and limbo. Yesterday was a day I associated with that too, as I kept being offered tea to ‘soothe’ shock, but all it did was send me back in time. I wrote this poem when I got in, and eventually shared it on my facebook which was fairly terrifying! I have a blog I occasionally write on, and i’m in the process of finishing my first novel which I hope to get published one day, but sharing my poetry with facebook was a whole new level of scary. I have people on there who only really know me as a teenager, or as a university student, or as my mum’s daughter, or as the photos they see posted there and the statuses I write. They don’t know me in the more raw and honest way, and my poetry and writing is a very different side of me. Or at least, it feels like it. Maybe it doesn’t show! It’s a new kind of vulnerability, to share words like that. However, it received a surprising and lovely response which was a good kind of shock, but I still feel raw from sharing it.
I’m glad I did.
If you’d like to read the poem, i’ll attach it below!
OUT OF OUR COMFORT ZONE: 1—-2—-3—-4—-5
FEAR FACTOR: 1—-2—-3—-4—-5
P.S we are struggling with ‘filler’ scary things- scary things to do when we’ve worked all day and get home when it’s dark! So far we have a few- beanboozled and a scary film are a few for the next week or so- but we need some ideas! Please let us know!