GRUMPY SUNDAY

GRUMPY SUNDAY

Hey guys…here is my #sharpie sunday for today…

The photos are for the press release my local Mind/NHS trust are putting together about my fundraising and awareness campaign. I’m trying to encourage people to run the Bamburgh 10k with me by sharing my personal story and sharing some training pics beside the iconic Bamburgh Castle. This is being sent to media peeps in the North East, so to me this is HASHTAG IMPORTANT!!!

The news of us getting up to head to the beach made three people who wanted a lie in however, very resentful!

My burgeoning media presence means little to them (on occasions like this where I am asking them to get up and dressed and head outside on a Sunday morning when they’d rather be in bed!)

I reminded them they would probs think foregoing their Sunday lie in was worth it when they see the photos in the press. But still they grumbled…and my husband was the chief grumbler who was modelling grumbling to our offspring which I got quite grumpy about. So it got quite awkward and the mutual grumbling continued…it became a bit of a grumpy domino effect.

I then had to think of a way to break the ice….

So I did this…

This is him holding the picture…

…He didn’t like the picture πŸ˜‚

…Which is actually quite good and FAR better than mine. #Storyofmylife πŸ˜‚

This is me holding the picture, still in pose…

Fortunately we got some decent running pics….though the grumpiness has continued since we got home.

I’m bitching at him. He is bitching at me….It’s just one of those grumpy Sundays.

I always feel pressure to enjoy my weekends and it always be happy families consistently from Friday evening to Sunday night. But sometimes at weekends we all get grouchy. It isn’t all instagrammable moments of delight joined up by sunbeams of elated dreaminess.

In a full week that is 7 days and 24×7 long why do we have to be selectively happy for 48 hours of that? Just because it’s the ‘weekend’?

Sometimes often I feel shit at weekends. ..in fact I usually do. Because I’m not on my own. The house is crowded. The routine is non existent, noise levels are uncomfortably high; and on a Sunday I always feel daunted about the next five days ahead of me. I wonder how I’ll possibly do it.. Β  I feel tired and lethargic and generally listless and useless. I bum around bouncing off imaginary walls. .the partitions I’m talking about metaphorically criss cross their way across my mind, creating lattice work patterns and meaningless random divisions. I feel bored but overwhelmed at the same time. A state of uncomfortable bored overstimulation ensues. My brain is being challenged by the sense of lack.

I overdose on lack.

I binge on it. (Or it binges or feeds on me.)

It’s the borderline emptiness invading again.

The brain mess is spacious and palacious and cavernous and restricted and tight all at once- a contradictory mess of complex randomness.

I excess on nothingness.

Sunday grumpiness hurts and frazzles.

My head is FULL yet vacant.

I remain dissociated and zoned out, yet sensitised to threat from long ago.

PTSD pollutes my dreams reminding me that even if life is generally getting far better and shinier and brighter; that the shadows of the past will always cast large shapes across my mindscape….black holes where any light is absorbed and sucked in as if it were never there in the first place.

My lips pout just a little more.

A band of uncomfortable psychic energy radiates around my head and down the nerves towards my jaw.

My neck is stiff. My head is swimming and too heavy for my body to support it.

I lay back and swirl and sway and fall into it.

I’m drunk and disoriented and disorderly.

I know where I am.

I’m in the past.

I’m in that church.

In that room.

How many years ago now?

What age was I then?

12 probably?…. I’m 35 now.

The room I’m mentally in is where I had the most intense teeth clenching trauma of my life.

Don’t go there Summer.

This is a post trauma blog where lately I’ve avoided the trauma. I‘ve been far too busy.

But let me tell you, the trauma hasn’t gone. It never will. I will be haunted by this till my breathing stops and my body is cold and my ashes have been dispersed into the salty marine air where I want them released.

Mood swing happening as I write.

Death.

Do you feel the energy change as I write?

What’s the solution.Β Stop writing?Β 

If I stop writing will the shit go away?

No of course it fucking won’t.

But maybe it is something I just learn to fold up into neat concertina shapes.

Traumatic origami.

Art and form and meaning created by beautiful crisp deliberate folds made by the artist scratching deep into the fibres of the paper in every artistic fold.

Fold it up Summer.

Crisp lines.

This post has altered from where it began.

Silly Summer writes about silly things with silly pictures.

But really summer is sad, hurting, empty, screaming for someone to hold her till the bad stuff leaves her be and she can find peace again.

I must go. I must publish. I must close my eyes and curl up and hide somewhere where the trauma cannot get to me.

I will shine again. Just not right now. Sometimes the hurt just can’t be ignored or doodled away.

Sometimes I’m just there πŸ˜£πŸ˜”

summerSHINESΒ©

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29 thoughts on “GRUMPY SUNDAY

  1. Summer, I know that no amount of words that I am going to utter will be a balm for those heinous wounds caused by the dirty monsters. So, I shall not try to ‘console’ or ‘make you feel better’.

    All I’m going to tell you is that keep doing what you’re doing until your last breath. Let your good deeds overpower the dark memories. Let your spirit lighten the lives of those who go through distasteful experiences.

    You’re an inspiration to MANY. πŸ˜»πŸ‘§

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I know you’re right lovely girl….I just wish I felt better. I will keep doing what I’m doing…sometimes I can feel inspirational as I’m just bogged down in the shit im trying to move away from. I’ll keep trying though πŸ˜ŠπŸ’›πŸ’–

      Liked by 1 person

      1. We all have days where we would like to hibernate 25 miles under the ground and swear never to see another soul again. I understand that sort of alienation that comes about in life.

        Then again, each day has its own perks and lows we must intent LIVE for the better and happy days! Sweetheart, everything is just another experience so, I’d suggest that you don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re absolutely worthy of colossal success in whatever endeavors you are bound to take! ❀ ❀

        Many kisses and bear hugs!

        Liked by 1 person

  2. It might have been a grumpy day, but I loved both of your selfie drawings. I thought it was fun you both did this. Especially as you sat with the pose while holding the drawings. You might have been grumpy, but I gather and I hope you were able to smile while behind the scenes for doing this. If not, I hope you are able to look back and laugh at it later. x

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  3. You are going to feel what you feel, and that’s okay. I would be more concerned if you stopped sharing what’s going on inside. When these feelings come up, the flashbacks, the worries, they have a way of holding us hostage. That is the time when we need to share the most. Put it out there for the universe to deal with, because if we don’t, we feel even more trapped, helpless and alone. ❀

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Oh, I’m so glad! And I’m so glad you came back to share that with me! Thank you! I have done that before, and it has felt both cathartic and scary. On the one hand, I felt better that I reached out and connected to a safe person, but I felt vulnerable because I put it all out there, and then had to wait for a response (and wonder if one was coming at all). I hope your email was helpful to you, and I hope that your blog continues to give you the support and connection that you need. ❀

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        1. I also just wanted to reach out and let you know that even though there is nothing I can say that will change how you are feeling, I am more than happy to simply “sit” with you while you feel what you are feeling. (Not literally, obviously, but please know that you are not alone). Even if you don’t feel like blogging, please know that you can check in anytime (whether it is via this comment section, or the comment section on my blog). I just get the sense that this is quite heavy for you right now, and I am struggling to walk away with nothing more than an encouraging comment.

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          1. Bless you for caring. I am shut down and exhausted. I think I’m going to wrap myself in a duvet and head out to my bed shed and sleep. The white noise of the birds and wind blowing outside calms me. I’ve managed to achieve a few bits and pieces but really I’m dissociated and cannot converse hardly at all. It’s very kind of you huni to reach out to me. I’ll be ok I am just in a dip. It happens and it always come to an end. It’s not forever even though life feels floaty and suspended and unreal. I know what I need to do. Just sleep it off lovely xx I really appreciate you being so lovely…the concept that strangers I’ve never met or spoken to can be so thoughtful is wonderful to me. I might blog later…but sometimes blogging makes me worse. 😣 Hugs xx

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            1. It sounds like you’ve got your self-care strategies figured out. I’m glad. It sounds perfect. πŸ™‚
              I know all about the dips, and I know they eventually go away. Sometimes it feels like they won’t, but I’m glad to hear you say that you know this won’t be forever. ❀

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