Archive for September, 2009


It has only just hit me…

September 26, 2009

Life moves on. People are moving on. New starts; jobs, PGCE’s, training courses, or continuing at LST. And yet, I am stuck, frozen, as they all move on without me. And LST, really wont be the same again. Not that it’s bad there’s a whole bunch of freshers arriving on Monday, but will I really get the chance to know them? Will I ever catch up? Somehow this new term is harder than the last. I think because some of the people I know won’t be there when I return. Ouch.
And then, I find out that all the continuing students, other than me, received a letter/email over the summer about re-registering and taking their passport for it (new rules). I feel so left out. I liked receiving W3 emails last term, even though I wasn’t there, I could follow what was going on, it was nice… but now, I feel even more left out. Stuck. And, it hurts.


There is a person

September 26, 2009

There is a person who was in my life more than they are now. And it hurts that they’re not, well, here. It’s not their fault; it’s mine, for being pathetic and ill.
It hurts that there is no-one who can invade my personal space in the way I need it, the way in which they do.
It hurts that when I’ve had a rubbish day there’s no one to hug the way there used to be.
It hurts that this person was the only one who really got what my ‘Cello means to me. The one person who could make me happy if it hadn’t gone as well as I’d liked. The one person who I could share my excitement when it had gone well.
It hurts that the person who was there when I was feeling at my worst, who made the world seem so much better, isn’t.
At least for now, but it still hurts.



September 25, 2009

So, I offered to our District Commissioner that I might be able to volunteer in guiding this term. I went along to a meeting about the leader crisis at Monday Brownies and left having volunteered to take it on, as Guider in Charge!
I keep flipping from utter panic, to actually I can do it.
After a crazy week sorting out the records and keeping everyone informed, inviting new girls and planning the term, I met the girls on Monday evening. I was expecting it to be quite tough, with half the girls being new and them all being at different schools. But it went swimmingly. The new girls were all paired up with a continuing girl as ‘Brownie Buddies’ to help them settle in etc.
The centenary ‘Challenge 100’ has got me very excited, and the girls were very excited about my suggestions for various challenges… harah! We’re also doing Brownie Traditions and Discovering Faith badges, which have some things we can do in conjunction with Challenge 100. We’re going to visit Southwell Minster and climb the tower – yay!
Having this to sort out has done me so much good – I’ve just begun to feel loads better in myself having things to do that aren’t just for me. And it’s fun!
Brownies are great!


Is it a compliment?

September 18, 2009

That the cat I am looking after this week, who took to me really well when her owners were here… then when they left, she didn’t want to know me, wouldn’t touch her food or barely let me stroke her never mind cuddle (when, you know, I could use a cuddle)… brought me a gift at 2am and hid it in my bag of clothes… this gift is a dead mouse… I know it’s in their nature and all… but I’m sure she was sleeping on my pile of clothes when I went to bed… then all of a sudden, there’s so much whinning etc and chasing of things round my room.. I put on the light to find her chasing my bag, and a dead mouse inside. Seriously. I was asleep! I just hope I have the strength to drive home tomorrow?
I think I’m more of a Dog person.


Prickly on the edges?

September 17, 2009

Spikes and needles and pins.
Poking out of me.
Sticking into me.

I feel like it’s hard to connect with people. I’m too tired to talk… yet, I really need to talk. To connect. To relate. To know that people are there.

I caught myself singing today. Singing a song of praise. I honestly can’t remember the last time I was spontaneously singing such things; but I am grateful for this 🙂


I should be listening to the warning signs…

September 15, 2009

The tearful tired, when even a good day has been had.
The panic attacks.
The pain in my arms, my legs.
The spaced out feeling.
Not liking the sound of my ‘Cello.
The deep immense pain inside my chest.
I want to scream and cry, but I don’t know why.

Oh, Lord, heal ME.


My thoughts on Church

September 15, 2009

I have been struggling since I’ve come home church wise and gah, I don’t know? I guess I haven’t noticed where/if Dad’s been going to church? I’ve only made it to about 5 services since I came home in April. And that’s including Greame’s installation thingie (the new vicar in our village church) and the service for William’s Verge at the Minster.

I’m frustrated, because I know local church is important and I am finding it hard going to Southwell and there not being people near home I can talk to. So I was thinking now would be a good time to try St Mary’s again?

So, here goes for my potted church history; When we moved to Radcliffe in 1989, we as a family would go to St Mary’s in the village most weeks… although Dad worked shifts… but I remember going to Sunday school, ‘One Way Club’ fairly regularly. We stopped going as a family when I was about 12 when I wound up singing in St Peter’s choir in Nottingham as a friend from school’s Dad was the choir master. Then the teenage rebellion thing kicked in and I went to St Nics during which time some crap happened involving an individual from School/Scouts. I doubted the whole ‘God thing’ after the youth worker was praying with me and asked for ‘forgiveness for letting [myself] get in that situation…’ bearing in mind this was the summer before the M.E. rubbish was diagnosed and I was immensely confused as to why I was so tired the whole time, and why it hurt so much physically… so I stopped going to church for a while…
Then without going into my testimony in detail, I started going to Southwell Baptist Church later that year, and really discovered what it meant to be a Christian. Thanks to the encouragement from my best friend at school, who together we had set up the Christian Union. Good times.

While I was at SBC, I realised LST was where I was meant to be. I tried to have a conversation with the baptist minister about this, but I never felt like he was supportive. He always did banter with Paul, the Youth worker at the time about LST vs Moorlands. But Moorlands didn’t do the combination of Theology and Music, and to be honest, I didn’t really know which denomination I fit in to. Not that I do now?
I found SBC hard when, during my gap year, I was working at a hostel for the homeless, which along with nursing etc. the homeless don’t stop being homeless because it’s the sabbath. Thus I worked alternate weekends. When I got to SBC, I didn’t feel a part of the church family any longer. I didn’t have a place to fit in to. My parent’s didn’t go there, and I had been known by many people as ‘Katie’s friend’ rather than a person in my own right. Whereas Katie had grown up in that church, and her family went there. So other people could place her when she returned from uni etc. When I go back in the holidays, I’m lucky to get a brief passing hello from the minister, and maybe a few other people, if they’re not engrossed in conversation already?
Since coming home from LST, being ill, I’ve hardly made it to church. House group has been okay, but I feel so out of it.. and like I’m so isolated from the church, both geographically and otherwise.

And when I do make it to church and you get the small talk ‘how are you’ and I haven’t a clue how to answer it, do they really want to hear it? Some people I just said ‘fine’, which is a lie. Those who asked specifically about LST got the good bits, the truth, minus the I’m ill bit… but after about 3 or 4 of them the first Sunday I made it to Southwell I ended up in tears at Andrew. Bearing in mind when I arrived at the Minster I suddenly realised I couldn’t cope with the service (the people, the noise, the standing up and sitting down and not feeling like I could sneak out if I needed to) for some reason the Dean was away, so Andrew was able to delegate and we sat in the Vestry and drank tea; that was what I needed. And that was ‘doing church’ more than I’ve really done in a while. The Head Verger has been especially lovely since I’ve been home and ill etc. as have many other people in Southwell, but I just don’t know where I belong anymore?

And as for St Mary’s and local church; it just doesn’t feel like the right place for me to be. I inquired about house groups and the response was that they were full of old people, assuming I wouldn’t want to be part of that. But that I could go along to the girl’s Tuesday evening group, but I know they had an agenda; they want me to help out, or at least be a ‘role model’ for 6 under-14-year-old-girls. I’m not sure that’s ideal when I am wanting a house group for support because of how depressed I have been lately – I’m not sure suicidal young woman is an ideal role model? Sorry, that was a bit blunt. I haven’t acted on anything and as I said, things seem to be improving slightly?
And then there’s the slightly huge issue of how the heck am I supposed to weigh up depression with my faith? I mean, it just doesn’t add up to me.

Since then, however, I have met with the new vicar, Graeme. He is incredibly supportive. We think there is a house group where I can get support and spiritual input, despite lowering the average age somewhat. Actually, I’m quite looking forward to the input of some mature local Christians.

I’m hoping to get to St Mary’s on Sunday.

This, I think, has turned out a lot more rambled and jumbled than it could have been.