Words and feelings in my head

Things are a lot better now, I've calmed down and S and I are going away tomorrow for a few days by ourselves. No more kids or families or mother in laws. Just the two of us.

These past few days I've felt slightly agitated and restless. I've been wanting to write things down but wasn't too sure what. I've wanted to just get things out, written down. It's not particularly about how I've been feeling or any particularly poetic observations. I just wanted to write.

Part of me has been thinking about work. Part of me has wanted to plan for the future. Sitting in S's brother's house, looking at everything he and his family has has made me think a lot about the future. What my future will be like, what I want it to be like and how we are going to get there.

I make no excuses for liking the finer things in life. I know the kind of house I want to live in and car I want to drive. I'm not saying that I wouldn't be happy with less because I know that these are material things and at the end of the day, so long as Stephen and I are together with a roof over our heads and food on the table then I'll have everything I need. But why aim for second best?

I am a very positive and determind person but one of my problems is that I do not always have the plan to back up my ideas. I have a firm belief that something will happen and whilst I believe in fate and God and that we have support to fulfil our wildest dreams if we want them enough, maybe I should be doing something to make it all happen!

I guess I struggle with my beliefs. On the one hand I believe in God and believe in fate and believe that everyone has a purpose in life. On the other hand I believe that we make our own destiny and that we have to work hard and dream harder to get the things we want in life.

Thomas Jefferson is atritbuted to the quote "The harder I work, the luckier I become" and it is a mantra many millionaires stand by. Another is that "you can achieve anything if you want it badly enough." But is just wanting it enough?

I won't wait for opportunity to knock. I am bad at sitting around doing nothing. I noticed it when I was ill a couple of weeks ago. I noticed it in the first few days of my holiday. I cannot just wait for things to come to me, for life to pass me by. I want to get out there, grab life by the throat and say 'Come on then! What have you got?'

Oz Experience

I am currently in Perth, Western Australia. I am visiting my boyfriend's brother who lives out here with his wife and two children. Obviously, I am with my boyfriend but his other brother and mother are also here. All together there are eight people in this house and I am the only one who is not a Higgins!

We arrived at 1am on Monday morning and it is now Thursday afternoon, we are here for 3 weeks so there is still a long time to go. I am having a wonderful time. It's nice to be on holiday. I have not had a break since I went to Rhodes with my sister in 2006. It is nice to escape the UK which hasn't seen sun in such a long time. It is nice to get away from my life there for a little while and forget about work and everything that has happened in the last year. I feel relaxed.

There are times that I have been not so relaxed. Back home I live alone and although I am a sociable person, I like my own space and peace and quiet. With eight people in a house (including 2 under the age of 10) peace and quiet does not come easily. I am worried about making a good impression on the family I have not met before. For the past 18 months I have been with Stephen, I've heard so much about them, about how much he loves and misses the kids and how important it is for me to get on with them. There is pressure to behave properly in someone else's house which is fine but does mean that I am always slightly on edge and cannot totally relax. Stephen's mother is a typical Irish mother who fusses and makes sure that everyone is okay all the time and that you do not want for anything. It is very sweet but again, can be very draining when I'd rather just be lying peacefully in silence.

I always worry what other people think of me. I don't want to be butting in on this precious family time so have to keep reminding myself that I was invited to come along. Stephen's eldest brother (who lives here) is 21 years older than me and I am desperate not to come across as a stupid kid. I don't want to annoy Stephen's other brother who seems to get worked up at everything.

I'm sure things will be okay and that it is just a case of adjusting. This is only day four and I think we are all only just about getting over jetlag. I will just relax into things and now that the kids are off school for the holidays, I think it is about time to have some fun.

Being the change

Today made me happy. Today I made other people happy.

Within five minutes this morning two people said I had made them happy. The first was someone who I sent an email to saying thank you. She'd done something to help me so I wanted to thank her. She said that she had been having a really tough time lately and that my email had just made her morning.

The second was a very good friend who has helped me through some very difficult times. One of the things we used to do was listen to very cheesy CDs as we went on many a road trip. A couple of weeks ago I made her a CD with some songs on it that I thought she would appreciate. She sent me a text this morning saying that she was lstening to a CD and it had made her smile.

I like doing things for other people. I love christmas because I can buy lots of people presents and make them smile. I take a lot of time over presents, making sure that people love each and every one of them.

I think maybe that's why I enjoy working for a charity. I stood in the lounge at work the other day, watching the centre users chatting and laughing with each other. I was slightly overwhelmed at the thought that without the charity, without the work that I do, they wouldn't have that. It really made me happy.

Putting pen to page

I'm actually writing this blog entry on paper. With a pen. No where near a computer. Obviously, as you're reading this, I've since typed it up but there is something quite nice about being about to put pen to paper and let the thoughts flow.

I like writing because it is slower. With a typing speed of around 70 words per minute, my fingers can quite often work a lot faster than my brain My thoughts get flustered and muddled and the words start to jump about on the screen.

I forget what I have already typed as the words are spurned higher up on the screen to make space for the new ones. Constantly moving vowels and consonants forming words and sentences almost of their own accord; taking on a life of their own, separate from the author who created them.

I like writing. I like the flow of the words as letters merge into each other, something which doesn't happen in type. I like the curls of my handwriting, the 'l' and the 'g' and the 'w'. The flair which makes these words mine. The little marks and inflections which I can recognise as mine. They are my voice on the paper, my accent translated through the pen

The typed word can seem so cold and stark. So impersonal. Like a robotic voice - no colours, no emotions. Each letter identical every time, standing alone. No mistakes, no scribbles, no personality. Anonymous words on a flickering screen.

But without typing and computers, these words would just remain here on the page. Folded in my handbag for no one to see'; quietly forgotten with no eyes to see them, no voice to speak them. At least on the screen they are out there, in the big wide world, for people to absorb - should they want to.

"Be the change you want to see in the world"

A few weeks ago I started a new job.

I am the new fundraising and publicity manager at Worcestershire Association for the Blind.

I love it.

It is a small county wide charity that provides support, information and empowerment to visually impaired and blind people across the county of Worcestershire. The office is also a drop in centre for people with visual impairments so every day I see the good that the charity is doing and the people that it is helping directly.

The other day I watched a group of about 15 blind people do country dancing in the hall, I've heard stories about them skydiving, running marathons and playing golf. The only thing different between me and these people is that my eyes work perfectly well.

In charity terms, visual impairments is not 'sexy'. Cancer is 'sexy', animals are 'sexy', third world needs are 'sexy'. But if you woke up tomorrow and could not see, how would you now what the weather was like to decide what to wear? How would you choose clothes that matched? How would you get toothpaste on the toothbrush? How would you know your toast was cooked, or that your teacup was full of boiling water?

It wasn't until I started work and started talking to people that I really ever thought about this and now it is something that I feel really passionate about. I want to change this charity, I want to use my skills to move the charity forward so that it can be the best it can be.

I have found a revitalised passion for my work now that I am in a new role. I have remembered that I am actually quite good at what I do. I look forward to going to work every day and find it hard to stop thinking about it when I get home at night.

I feel alive again.

New year, new start, blah blah blah!

Sitting two weeks into 2009, I'm overcome with a strange mix of emotions.

The end of 2008 was so awful that 2009 was always going to come as a refreshing change and its amazing how a few seconds on the clock can make such a big difference.

December 2008 is a month that I won't forget in a hurry. In 31 days (Well, technically 32) my life changed. On 30th November one of my cats (well, technically my parents' cats) was run over and killed. She wasn't a very sociable cat but she was part of the family and she will be missed.

I was upset by this. I love cats and as I say, she was part of the family. I found out fairly late on the Sunday evening when I was due to get up and go to a breakfast networking meeting. I was in shock when I first found out and the idea of networking with complete strangers was possibly the hardest thing I could have imagined doing. I contacted my employer to be met with a completely unreasonable response. This sent me into another panic attack and wondering how on earth I was supposed to continue at work when the simple idea of going into the office made me feel physically sick.

I need not have worried as one week later it was announced that they were making redundancies at work. In fact they were looking to virtually halve the work force. After a lot of talking with my family and Stephen, I decided to offer voluntary redundancy. I had been looking for a new job anyway and one more than one occasion I had thought about handing in my notice with no new job to go to. This way I got a redundancy package to tide me over until I found something new.

So as of 15th December, I was looking for a new job. I was asked to work my one months notice in order to hand over to other members of staff. The two weeks before Christmas are impossible to find work and whilst the original anouncement said that they wanted it to be a quick process, those who were made compulsory redundant did not find out until January 2nd.

Still, this was my escape route. No more feeling sick or angry every second I was at work. No more having to deal with people who had no respect for me and playing around with ridiculous office politics. All I had to do was keep my head down for a few weeks (which included virtually 2 weeks off for Christmas and New Year) and I was home free.

On December 22nd, my Grandmother died.

She was 89 and had been ill with Alzheimer's for several years. She was a shell of the amazing woman she had once been. I had a lot of respect for my grandmother. She had lived quite a life, in the army, in the Normandy landings, shipwrecked and as a mother and grandmother to my mother and uncle, me and my sister. We were never close. She just wasn't that sort of person and whilst the end of any life is sad, when my dad rang me to tell me, I was relieved more than anything. Relieved that she was at peace. Relieved that she was no longer a worry to my mother and uncle. Relieved that it was the end.

Before anyone really had time to think about what was happening, it was Christmas. A whirlwind of emotions followed. A mixture of what we were all feeling and guilt about what we weren't feeling. Christmas day was quiet and fairly empty. There was no champagne, no log fire. The credit crunch meant none of us could splash out on presents and Hannah was spending Christmas in Croydon with the Gordon's so it felt like something was missing. It was an okay day but given that I absolutely adore Christmas and start getting excited about it in October, it all feel somewhat flat this year.

Grandma's funeral was on New Year's eve morning. It was a freezing cold day but family and friends came to pay their respects. It was nice to see family again and introduce Stephen to them although it would have been better in other circumstances.

We came back from the funeral, spent a couple of hours catching up on sleep and then out to dinner in the evening, just Stephen and I. It was a nice quiet evening and were home by 11:30 to watch the last bit of BBC1's New Year count down and watch the fireworks as the clock chimed midnight.

I did not cry at midnight like I do most years. I was tired and just wanted to go to bed. As the minutes ticked on into 2009, I climbed into bed glad that December was over and that it really was a new start.

As Robin Sharma, my favourite inspirational writer, says "The best thing about the future being unknown is that anything is possible".

Two weeks into 2009, I know that this is true. I've left my job and although I don't have another yet, I don't have the feelings of panic and sickness that I used to every morning. I've been to the gym and eaten a lot healthier and have managed to lose 7lbs in two weeks.

I can see the future, I don't know what it holds, but it's certainly bright.