Stressed doesn’t even cover it!

What is it with me and new jobs? When I started at my previous place I ended up having my wisdom teeth removed the week before I started which meant I arrived at my new job swollen faced and popping pills every 2 hours!

It has happened again this time, not the pill popping (well at least not so many) but it is the second week at my new job and already I have had to have a late start due to my car needing a service and an extended lunch break to cover a Doctors trip. Now to most people this probably sounds like very little, but for someone who was horrendously bullied by their first ‘proper’ boss, it has the voices worrying me. I don’t want people to think I am skiving off, that I am not pulling my weight, and although I know when they get to know me they will know I am not like that; two weeks in I am a little concerned.

The worst was the Doctors appointment. For 3 days I tried unsuccessfully to get an appointment outside of work hours. When that didn’t happen, I scheduled it about lunchtime. I now get an hour for lunch, so with 20 minutes to the surgery and 20 back, it was tight but manageable.

Or at least it would have been. The Doctor was running 50 minutes late… 50 minutes.

She apologised when I was finally seen, but that wasn’t good enough. I imagine that it wasn’t fully her fault, but when did it become ok to run 50 minutes late? There were signs all over the surgery telling everyone that the appointment with the Doctor was for no more than 8 – 10 minutes. So either she or her patients are not sticking to this rule. Also even if the appointments are only for this time, why doesn’t the receptionist build a little slack into the Doctors day to ensure that this doesn’t happen?

I value the NHS and the work that the Doctors and Nurses do; but a 50 minute wait isn’t good enough. Time and time again I went to the reception desk to ask how much longer and each time I was promised I was next. However when I queried how long, they kept telling me they didn’t know (um, what about the signs saying 8 – 10 minutes max?!) I didn’t feel I could walk out, it had taken 3 days to get me there. But I was such a state by the time I was finally scene, I just wanted to get out of there. And this lead to the second problem…

The doctor examined me, asked me some questions and said I must have suffered from X a lot in my life time. I told her that no, I hadn’t. In fact I had never had X as far as I could remember. Her response, was oh, well you must have. She then berated me for not having an earlier appointment as apparently, with it being Friday lunchtime it was too late to run any tests.Grr! So I left with a diagnosis and medication that I am not even 50% confident in. I tried to argue a little, and explain that I had been trying for an early morning appointment for a number of days… but with the clock ticking away and me desperate to get back eventually I stopped arguing and just left with my tablets (which I am now popping at work!)

All in all the entire experience was a nightmare.

I try to not self diagnose, or treat. But after that experience, it is going to take something major to get me back into the Doctors surgery.

Fail to Prepare…

Why is it when you make one little mistake the Universe decides to ensure that this tiny little mistake doesn’t stay small and inconsequential but takes on a life of it’s own until you are left quietly rocking and sobbing uncontrollably in the corner??

Take this morning I had a meeting at work. It was with an external agency and I was as excited as I was terrified. Having any sort of meeting is still a new experience for me and so I have had a few sleepless nights and spent about a week planning every small detail including trying on at least 3 different outfits to make sure I portray the appropriate level of carefree professional. I had Googled the time to destination, found my Sat Nav. Everything was a go.

This morning, I logged out of my computer giving myself at least double the time to get to my final destination. I nipped to the loo, only (and this may be a little bit of an over share) I have inherited my mums ‘nervous tummy’ and so I was slightly longer in the loos than planned. Although a little more stressed as I now only had had 20 minutes to do a journey Google had predicted would take 12 minutes. I grabbed my handbag, my notes for the meeting and a working pen and fled the office. Into car I plugged in my Sat Nav and panicked a little about it’s inability to find the exact location but assumed I would be safe by going to the “center of the area”. It was on an industrial state, what could go wrong?

At this point I did consider heading back into the office to print off some Google directions; something I usually always do, and I still don’t know how I failed to on this occasions! In fact I am usually so panicked that I ‘walk the streets’ to the venue and back with little Street View Man so I know exactly where I am going – I don’t know if it being a local place gave me a false sense of security?? Anyway, for the first time in my life I hadn’t.

I decided not to go back into the office. I knew it would take a while to re-load the computer, download the details and print it all off; especially considering the archaic systems my office currently runs on. Time I would rather spend getting there on time. I knew most of the route and so I thought drive, and then if I can’t find them give them a call on my mobile so that could direct me in.

About 7 minutes into my journey I realised I may be arriving a few minutes late to the meeting, and so I pulled over to give them a heads-up (at this point I was still going for calm, collected professional!) This is when the universe decided to kick me for the first time. I could not find my mobile. Turns out in my hurry to be on time I had left it sitting on my desk. At this point the panic was rising, however in a ‘gift’ from the universe at least my Sat Nav had decided it was going to work and so began to direct my to my ‘destination’. We arrived at ‘the destination’ in record time in fact I was early for my meeting. It would have been perfect only it wasn’t my location. Taking me to the middle of the area based on post code had landed me in a completely different industrial estate, I had no idea where I was, no idea where I was going and no phone to call anyone for help.

I got out of my car and walking into the nearest office building, where two men were sat talking. I told them I was lost and where I was trying to get and it turned out that I was in completely the wrong part of the city. Luckily the guys did know where I needed to go and so he talked me through the directions and drew me a little map. I asked if I could borrow his phone to call the company and advise them I may be a few minutes late. His reaction was comical; I think he may have been less surprised had I asked if I could eat his head. He spluttered out I was only a few minutes away and it wouldn’t take me long, but I kinda pushed the point a little and finally he conceded. Message about my delayed arrival left I thanked the two guys and flew out of their office. Back to the car and set off on the journey. I remembered the first few roundabouts fine but on approaching a set of traffic lights and being unsure as to whether I should go straight on or turn left I reached for the map he had drawn… only I couldn’t find it. I am certain I had it in my hand when I left the offices, but I still have no idea what has happened to it. I cannot find it in my car!

I went with my gut and headed straight across. At the next traffic lights I thought my luck had changed; there was a sign to the industrial estate I needed – I was saved! Or not.

Turns out after the sign telling me to turn left there were no other signs. I creeped along, annoying all the drivers behind me (side note: does anyone else think we should have those flashy message things on our back windscreens that the police have? I would love to be able to flash up signs that said “sorry, I know I’m being annoying but I’m lost” or “I’m driving extremely slowly as I am trying not to run out of petrol before I reach the petrol station as I didn’t have as much fuel as I thought” Just me?)  looking for the sign for the industrial estate – I remembered the guy in the office saying it would appear out of no where in this little housing estate, that I would think I had gone wrong and then it would just appear on my left. I saw a courtyard and looked around (to my left) for the sign. I couldn’t see anything telling me this was anything other than a group of houses and so I pressed on. I assumed that if this was the place I could just double back. I got to the end of the road and realised that the courtyard I had seen had to be the place so did a U-turn and set off back down the road. A man jumped in front of my car waving his arms.

Genuinely, this man went mental getting me to stop my car. I wound down the window and looked at him.; turns out it was a one way street.

I asked him for directions to get back to the beginning of the system and was told I had to go “left, then right, then second left, the another right, over the river…” I think it was about here I lost the will to live!

I would like to tell you that I followed his directions and found the place; bet your not surprised to learn I didn’t.

I gave up and went back to a section of road and knew and found my way back in, only this time pulling into the courtyard.

I was quite impressed to only finally arrive 10 minutes late for the meeting, and although I didn’t share the full horror that I had getting there sharing some of the story certainly broke the ice.

However, the best bit and probably the bit that will have jumped out to the people who I told this story to… turns out the industrial estate is in fact extremely well sign posted and on my way around the one way system for the second time I noticed a lovely large sign point directly at the courtyard; on the right!

I’m not ok…and I’m not fine!

I want to shout, no I want to scream. I want to stamp my feet, throw a tantrum and sob uncontrollably until everything is ok. But it isn’t going to be ok. I’m worried I am never going to be ok again.

Last night I had yet another incident with a close family member. Throughout the years this person has felt it was their duty to correct me, challenge me and if I’m honest generally screw me up all under the pretence of ‘it’s only because I love you!’ and ‘I only say something because I care.’

Every time this has happened in the past I have beaten myself up. Judged myself, and found that the fault was mine.

I don’t like to point the finger, but with the help of a couple of counsellors, I can track back some of the problems I am having at the moment to conversations I had with this person when I was a child. “Remember the time you were joking with your parents, and everyone was laughing. Well inside they were crying because you’ve really hurt them.”

Tell that to a young child and watch her grow up fearing that she has misunderstood every situation she is put into from that moment onwards. Want to know where the bully found the hook for his mind games?

But it’s ok, because it is done out of love. Clearly I misunderstand their intentions, what they said, how it was meant. Other family members tell me this when I voice how I feel. Well that ‘misunderstanding’ has affected me deeply and currently sees me paying out more than I can afford to a counsellor to try and work through my issues.

It is not all their fault. I know that. But despite trying not to for a number of years, I have to admit they are involved in it somewhere.
I try to nurture everyone. What was said was said out of love and so I will forgive and just bury deep inside the hurt, pain, anguish it caused me. I go to them, reach out to them to make sure they are ok, that they are not upset. Forget my own feelings, I’m strong (despite what they think) so I bury it and more on.

I’m ok. It’s fine.

Only you don’t move on. It sits somewhere in your subconscious and slowly burrows its way in; waiting to spring back to life one day with the help of a bully or two.

The bully wrecks your life. You are put through hell and then some, but you don’t tell anyone. Not the full details. They see your red eyes, they know you have been crying but you don’t want to upset your nearest and dearest so you bury it.

He keeps it up, and slowly you start to crack.

You wonder ‘why you’, you start to believe that if you were a better person, a stronger person you would have been able to deal with this. You beat yourself up. Finally it becomes too much and you have a break down.

You take it to a tribunal, and they officially record a verdict of ‘not guilty’. Despite admitting various faults, changing everything within the day to day running of the office and suggesting this ‘manager’ needs further training they say ‘you are wrong, you misunderstood, you made it up!’

The people who witness it, who fought your corner, his latest victim all tell you that you were bullied, but that’s not enough. The people who matter think you lied. You start to believe that you were wrong. You start to feel guilty that your stupid misunderstanding has put a guy through the hell of a tribunal for the last few months. You feel guilty. You feel you misunderstood. Internally you continue to go through hell.

Outwardly you worry if you admit it still affects you, he wins. So you bury it.

I’m fine. It’s ok.

Only it doesn’t stay buried, not fully.

It slowly affects your daily life. In your new role you assess every situation, wondering what the meaning was behind the interaction. You wonder when it will start again. You hold your breath with every error found, assuming once again you will be blamed regardless of fault. You daren’t stand up for yourself, you don’t question anything. Keep your head down, try to be invisible.

But when asked how work is or how you are

I’m fine. It’s ok.

This analysis doesn’t stay confined to your work life either. Suddenly you worry about your friends, family – I know what they are saying to my face but what do they really mean? Any situation is analysed to death…. and then analysed some more.

It seeps into your relationship. You don’t believe him when he says forever. You doubt him when he tells you he is over his ex. You share every minute detail with anyone you meet; hoping one of them will tell you how to understand the situation. You spend your waking (and sleeping hours) analysing what he really means verses what he says.

Then he leaves. You feel slightly vindicated – you didn’t believe him when he said forever anyway. But you also panic. You thought he was the one. You would have married him had only he asked. You did mean forever. Did you drive him away? Was it all your fault?
Only worse than that it is another situation where your feelings were wrong. Your gut said, and continues to say ‘he’s the one’. But what do you know? You’ve been wrong before.

And your gut is still telling you to hang on. Despite everything your head is telling you your heart just won’t let go. You try. You tell yourself he isn’t worth it. Tell yourself you deserve better. You know coming back would never work. Yet he still feels like a part of you. You still miss him and wait each evening for him to walk back through the door despite knowing he never will.

You start to pick apart the relationship. What was said, what was meant. What you did wrong.

People start to assume you should be over it, and you feel weak if you admit that you’re still not. So you bury it.
I’m ok. It’s fine!

You’re scared. Terrified that next time you will get it wrong again.

You don’t know if it was love or not but either way that doesn’t matter it still screws you up. If it was love, well he walked away the next one could just as easily. If it wasn’t love then you really can’t read situations so how will you know if you are right next time?

You don’t know how to move forward. You don’t even know in which direction forward is.

Every night you go to sleep and pray that it will get better. Pray that tomorrow will be the day you are free of your demons.

Those voices keep on at you.

Not smart enough

Not popular enough

Not pretty enough

Not worth fighting for

You know everyone else is fighting their own demons, yet you feel they are managing them better than you. And those who aren’t well you just assume that they have it much worse. You assume everyone else is strong and you are weak. You feel their situations are worse after all it was only a broken heat, only bullying, only a misunderstanding…

And then a great man dies.

Takes his life as a result of his demons and the whole world gasps. He seemed to have it all. He seemed so together.

I can remember once thinking how selfish suicide is.

Now I realise how desperate a person must be to see that as the only way out.

Why do we (and I’m assuming it’s not just me) struggle to reach out and say “I’m not ok……actually it isn’t fine”? And why when those people do reach out do they so often get knocked back?

True story: I reached out to my minister. Told him I had hit rock bottom and didn’t know what to do with my life and where I was going to go. His response “what do you want me to do about it?”

If someone asks you if you are ok, are you brave enough to admit that you are not? And if you ask the question for the love of God care enough to listen to the answer.

So, how am I?
At the moment I’m not ok. I’m fighting and I’m trying but generally I’m a mess and don’t know what to do. I am considering new careers, empowering myself with my house, and just battling through each day at a time. I miss him. I hate him and I love him. I am worried about my mum who has been very ill and although not every day is shit I do have times when I am so far from ok I could just walk away from everything and keep walking. Not all days are bad. I haven’t moments of happiness and I do laugh. My dogs bring me so much joy – although I am terrified of the day I will loose them both. I continue to fight. I continue to try and overcome my demons I will not let them win. I will survive this.

Your turn.

How are you? ……And I genuinely mean that!

Why am I hanging on so hard?

I am scared terrified to let go. There I have admitted it. Deep down I am worried that the reason I am hanging on so God damn hard to my relationship in reality has very little to do with the guy but more to do with me being terrified of what it going to happen to me, how I am going to survive if I am wrong and he is not the one.


I can explain.


I overshare. That’s not a secret. But the reason for my blatant oversharing is. I have always been an open book but in recent years the reason for my oversharing has changed. I overshare because I no longer trust my ability to read a situation and I am looking for someone, anyone to tell me what I should think, what I should feel.


I have previously admitted that I was bullied in my last job. But I have not admitted to anyone, even myself, how bad that bullying was and how much it has damaged me. I worry if I admit to being damaged still he has won.


The guy messed with my head. He would be that little voice of doubt telling me I wasn’t good enough, clever enough, liked enough. I single handled ran a department for almost a year but he would tell me I wasn’t working hard enough. I gave my best, it wasn’t good enough. I gave more, it wasn’t good enough. The mind games this guy played…. He had a score chart which him and another colleague would laugh about where he would see how many times he could criticise me before I would show signs of being upset. I would have a lovely conversation with a colleague, and as soon as they moved out of ear shot he would be there telling me they didn’t like me, they didn’t think I was pulling my weight, that I didn’t fit in.


At first I shrugged it off but he carried on. Day in, Day out for over 3 years. That little drip of doubt started to affect me. My colleagues ‘told him’ I wasn’t pulling my weight, so I started cutting out breaks and staying late. At first I cut out joining people for tea break, which did nothing to ease the feeling of being left out. According to him this didn’t convince them, and made them hate me more, so I stopped taking a lunch break. I’m not going to go into details but it got to the point I was recording my daily activities onto a sheet to prove that I was pulling my weight. I accounted for every minute of my day, what I did, who I spoke to, what I was talking to them about, when I went to the loo, how long it took….


I got to the point I dreaded going into work. I was surviving on a couple of hours sleep a night, if I was lucky. I cried constantly, but never in front of him. His mind games made me doubt my ability to read people and understand a situation. After 3 years it started to affect my personal life too. I doubted if my friends meant what they said. Did they really want to see me? Did they really mean what they were telling me?


It got so bad I considered driving into the middle barrier of a motorway to try and get away from it all.


Finally it all came to a head. One of my colleagues who I confided in told this guy I had approached my union. I was terrified of how he would react and I refused to go into the office. Another manager was called to give me permission to be out of the office, and he said “he knew I had been singled out and treated unfairly but he had no idea it had reached this level. He had been meaning to raise his concerns but had never gotten round to it!”


Even after 3 years he hadn’t completely broke me. When I told the union what had happened they said it was bullying (at this point I was convinced I was just shit at my job) and asked if I wanted to start formal proceeding. I did. However in the true style of a big organisation the bullying was hushed up. The investigation resulted in some major changes, people were moved, offices changed, other people came forwards to say they too had experienced this behaviour. But the official line was it was a misunderstanding that had gotten out of hand.


That result was like a kick in the stomach. It was like they said “yes we know you think this guy has made your life hell for 3 years, destroyed your confidence in yourself, made you doubt your ability to understand a situation but you’re wrong it was all a big misunderstanding”. Basically it felt like they were saying he’s right. You can’t understand a situation.


It made me worry I was just over sensitive. That I had blown a mole hill into a mountain. Luckily I had some brilliant people in my corner assuring me that it was bullying, that I’m not crazy but sometimes when I’m alone I can hear that small voice of doubt. “you made it all up, you really were shit, your career is over because you aren’t good enough.”



Enter the ex.


People say you know when you have met the one. I thought I knew. He feels like the other half of me, and from day one we just made sense together. Yes there were problems, yes we argued but at the end of the day I was confident in our relationship and for the first time in ages trusted my gut feeling of “this is meant to be.” Only now it’s not. Now yet again I am wrong, my understanding of a situation is wrong.


This terrifies me. At work I still worry on a daily basis about what people think. I still get panicky and worried about normal situations waiting for the blame to start. Waiting for the bullying to come back.


I am hanging on to the ex because I am terrified that if I am wrong about him, about us I will never trust myself to understand a situation again.


Yes, I worry about the normal stuff too. Trusting someone again, the fact I was so easy to leave, taking that leap with someone new. And I know I will miss him like crazy. But I worry the scars this will open runs so much deeper.

Now what am I going to do?

It’s 9.05am and I am already sick to death of my job and counting down the hours until I can leave. Which is case you were wondering is 7 hours 55 minutes or 453 minutes or if you would prefer 27180 seconds.

I always wanted to do something that mattered with me life. I studied hard(ish) I went to Uni, passed my degree with a 2:1 and then got a job in the role I had trained very hard for. So the job wasn’t quite as I imagined, but on the whole I was doing a job that mattered. The long hours I put in, well for a start they got a guy locked up for assault for 5 years and I loved that my job mattered. I mattered.

Then the bullying worsened and I went through hell. The mind games my then boss played on me… well let’s just say they still affect me to this day and I am still having counselling as a result. I was advised by 3 different doctors that for health reasons I could never return to that work environment, and when my employer decided not to properly investigate my bullying complaint I was let with no choice. I told them where to stick their job and on Christmas eve I walked out. I was a mess. The guy had bullied any feeling of confidence or self-worth out of me. I felt I couldn’t do the job I had studied hard for; I felt I couldn’t do anything.

I did some part time jobs waiting for something more permanent and then I saw an advert for the place I currently work, and you wanna know why I applied for it? Because it was close to where the ex worked and I hoped it would one day lead to us living together. Yep, it was only months into our relationship and yet I was so confident that he was the one that I applied for a job which (yes I am going to sound big headed, but it was pointed out in my interview so…) I was significantly over-qualified for.

This place hasn’t all been bad. The people are lovely, and I do have days where I really love my job. I have been amazingly lucky that they have supported my development, sent me on courses and help me get my head slightly more together. However, I am aware for my current role I am significantly underpaid. This isn’t me just complaining I need more money, I have had a look at similar jobs and I am at least 30 grand under where I should be. I work stupidly long hours, which when taken into account with my current rate of pay I barely make minimum wage and all of that wouldn’t matter to me if it wasn’t for the fact that at the end of the day I’m working my ass off to make some rich people richer.
I have been unhappy for a long time. I have attended interviews at other companies but I worry that will leave me in the same place, granted with more money, but still doing a pointless job.
Then one day I came up with a plan. He had bought a house he could afford without my wage (part of the security he needed for when we lived together) and so my plan was to discuss with him my returning to Uni to retrain. I had it all planned, I would need him to support me while I became a full time student again (although I wouldn’t give up work fully, so that I could still contribute to the house) and then when I qualified and got a decent job we would both be financially better off and I would be doing a job I loved. It felt like a win win situation.

Only I never got to put that plan to him. We never did have that conversation. And now I am alone with a mortgage to pay and I feel trapped. I need a monthly pay check. I am barely going to be able to cope to cover the bills when I do finally move into my house and I feel trapped.

Trapped in a job I don’t like.

Trapped in a life I don’t want.

Never blog in Anger

I’m sure that’s one of the rules to blogging. Always make sure you have a clear head and are calm and relaxed so you don’t say something you will later regret, but I am afraid I have to vent and so…

Today I made a major step forwards in getting over some of my post bullied in the work place issues. I have been drowning under my work load for the last few months, which I may have previously mentioned, and today I decided to do something about it. I went to my boss and admitted I am not coping with my current work load and that I felt bad complaining as everyone else is in a very similar place but I am starting to let deadlines slip and I am worried that this will reflect badly on me and I will get into a downwards spiral resulting in unemployment – yep I always take any scenario to the worst degree!

The very helpful advice I received from my boss “perhaps you should start coming into work a couple of hours early”. I pointed out that I never leave on time and he admitted he had noticed this. But that was all the advice I was given.

WTF? Oh and because it is such a lovely place this place I call work he also pointed out that there is no overtime and would not be any overtime if I work even longer hours.

My long hours of work was a regular argument when I was living with OH and it would wind him up something chronic I would walk through the door an hour and a half after I finished work because I had ‘just stayed late to finish one more thing’ and so we couldn’t go on our dog walk, or have date night or anything else I had planned. This wasn’t a one of, every single night I would leave work late, and now it looks like I’m going to be coming in early too!

Brutal honest over-share!

I was bullied out of the first ‘proper job’ I had. My boss took a dislike to me. Probably because I called him out on his comment “Girls don’t get drugged and raped, they get drunk and stupid!”. I know total prat!

Anyway, he told another of my colleagues that he was going to get rid of me (she wasn’t a particularly nice person either!) and he did. It took him 5 years, and I had a near complete break down, but he finally got me out of a job that I loved and had trained for. The way he did this was to completely distort my perception of reality. If someone was nice to me, he would say they hated me. If I did something well, he would find fault. If someone else made a mistake, he would blame me. At first I knew he was just being an ass but 5 years later he had me considering driving into a motorway barrier (the one in the middle of a pretty major motorway) to try and get a few weeks off sick. I didn’t want to kill myself….. just break a few bones!
During this time, another colleague had become a bit of a confident. She pointed out that I could do no right. Warned me about the pair of them and their planning and provided a much needed shoulder to cry on. I thought I could count on her. I trusted her. Then I was sent a way on a course for a few days and returned to work to find that not only had she had told these two everything but she had added a twist; I was going after their jobs to get them fired. This lead to tribunals, my first lot of counselling and finally me telling the company where they could shove their job. I was warned by three healthy professionals that I could not go back into that offer and so I walked out of that job on Christmas eve, with no idea where I was going and what my future held.

Whilst off sick from work, I was introduced to a new guy. He was older, he was wiser…..he was a toad. I should have seen the signs, but I wasn’t in a good place. He started off being a shoulder to cry on. Then he suggested we should meet in private. Told me he cared. Told me his wife didn’t understand him. Told me he had told her that he felt unloved and she didn’t care. Told me he loved me. Told me he would leave her for me.
This relationship took me to some pretty dark places. I am not going to share details but I was not in a good place. Despite all this I really believed he cared for me. Even after it ended I thought he was a good friend and I had no reason to suspect anything different. Until a few weeks ago when it turns out whilst doing this with me he was doing it to another vulnerable woman I know. Seems that this guy has a type and it is vulnerable woman. He takes them under his wing, and then slowly manipulates us. I think he has moved onto his new target. She is young, naïve and going through some shit – hell she’s me four years ago when this happened. However she doesn’t see this. She thinks he is wonderful. I worry about her but what more can I do?

He and BD pulled me out of all this. Meeting him gave me the strength to get out of the really really bad ‘relationship’. He taught me the true meaning of love. He made me feel safe and secure. He made me happier than I ever thought possible.

As a result of the bullying, I am still in counselling. I feel weak to admit that I am still affected on a daily basis as a result of the shit that I was put through by this boss. My boss made me doubt my ability to read a situation – this was his big head fuck trick that he left me with. This is what drove me to a complete break down. Even now I am not 100% certain of a situation until I have overshared it with friends and family. It was one of the problems in my relationship. It is what has sent me back to counselling.

I trusted the boss, eventually.

I trusted the toad, for years.

I don’t trust myself to understand a situation.

Slowly through my relationship I got better at this.

I have told you multiple times that I feel he was the one. I was prepared to marry him had he asked, and had he not asked I was happy to live in sin for the rest of my life. I wanted to be with him, and was confident in our love. Confident that we were soul mates. Confident that I had found the one. Even when it went wrong, even now I am hanging on to the fact that deep down I know he is the one.

If I am wrong about this, I don’t know how I will every recover. If I am wrong about this, how will I ever trust myself to understand any situation ever again. If I am wrong about this…

The hardest word.

Today I am going to hopefully put into writing a post that has been going around and around in my head for the last few weeks. You know that good old Elton John song, which contains the lyrics “Sorry seems to be the hardest word”? I don’t know the song title, and in fact you should be significantly impressed that I know it is Elton John who song this song as it is very rare that I can tell you the artist or song title – I am worse than useless in pub quizzes! Anyway I digress (what a surprise!)

The song seems to indicate that sorry is the hardest word to say. My assumption is that it is the hardest word to say and mean, but who knows what Mr John was thinking when he wrote that song. In fact to go off on another tangent, it really annoyed me in A level music when we had to identify the reason behind every single note placement in a piece of music. I am sorry, but I do not believe that Mozart sat and figured out every single note of every single piece. I do not imagine him sat there saying “If I put this note here, the audience will think I am going to the minor chord but I can tease them an instead move onto the diminished 7th!” I imagine he was more likely thinking, “hum, I have to write an entire coronation anthem and my deadline is next week. This sounds good, let’s crack on.”

I was reading an article online the other day (I have no idea where so I can’t provide a link). to summaries it was saying that men are more successful in the work place because they are more sure of themselves. Whereas woman will say sorry for situations that aren’t even their fault, men tend to shrug the situation off and move on. I am aware that this is a huge generalisation, but when sat at work I have to admit that I see a lot of truth in what this article was saying.

You see I say sorry far too easily! Someone walks into me, I apologise. Someone kicks a box I have put on the floor, I apologise. Someone doesn’t hold the door for me, yep I apologise. (real life examples!) It has started to feel that I am apologising for living!! The problem is I’m massively shy, and when there is an awkward silence or I don’t know what to say I say “Sorry.” I have developed this habit and I hate it. I want to break this habit now but I don’t know how.

Currently I am saying sorry and then letting out this little groan of annoyance (not even slightly weird!) but I think I need a better more permanent solution. So any tips? Any advice as to what I can stay instead?