Suicide = Where one person's suffering ends and another's begin . .

Dearest, dearest Sambo,

My heart bleeds thinking of the anguish, pain and unbearable suffering that you must have been feeling before you made the devastating decision to do what you did.  

My heart breaks at the fact that while you were taking your last breath, I was only five minutes away from you. I could have saved you Sam. I would have helped you, I would have protected you and talked to you. I would have LISTENED to you. I would have held you while you found your feet again. I would have shared your burden and proved to you that you were strong and there was hope. 

I would have showed you that people really love you Sam. I know in your darkest depths of despair you probably assumed that they didn’t but they really, really did and now you’ve left an infinite abyss that you will never witness to appreciate exactly just how MUCH people did love you.  

I had to go into the park to find you today, Sam. I needed to feel your sorrow and to cry for you. I needed to see the place that you'd chosen to say goodbye to us all. I needed to punish myself for not being there for you when you really, really needed someone.

I can’t even begin to describe the profound sadness I felt upon seeing that fucking shrined lamppost.  

You were worth so very much more than that. 

So, as your pain ends, ours now begins as we grieve and mourn the beautiful person you were in our struggle to accept that you’re gone forever.

Unfathomable and unbearable as that is. 

Breaking up with your babies is hard to do

I must be the only mother who is actually dreading the moment when their kids finally break free from the apron strings to embark upon their own personal journey onto Comprehensive school.

My kids and I have been cogs of the same machine since the day they were born. 

To be able to just be cool with them disappearing into the horizon of god knows how many miles away from me sends actual shivers down my spine. 

No longer will I be required to carry their school jumper/pack up box/paper mache models or be able to kiss them goodbye as I wave them off at the traffic lights each morning. 

No longer will I hold out my arms and swizz them around in the air when they’ve had a shit day at school.  

No longer will I be able to hold their hands as I deliver them to their caregivers and educators for the whole day.

No longer will they tell me that Morgan said a swear word in class and that Rhys fell back on his chair and banged his head on the radiator, or that Jake nicked a Frosties cereal bar from the tuck shop.

But most painfully of all, they will no longer be my little babies. 

In fact, they are most probably on the cusp of being my mortal enemies for the next five years or so maybe. 

And as much as I hate to admit that we’ve reached that dreaded point when I have to practically say goodbye to the two most beautiful, beautiful children, I have to have great faith that not only are my babies mini-me’s in sight, mind, like and nature.. 

I hope they also have the ability, good humour and common sense to think quickly on their feet so they can keep themselves safe.

But most importantly of all, I hope that they are lucky.

Internet + real life = absolute bollocks.

So I’m sure you all want to hear how the Disney fairytale ended? 

Well, it ended with the princess walking into a boozer to discover prince was not idol incarnate but more like sheer stalemate. 

I carried the whole conversation of the evening just to keep things bobbing afloat.  I gave the right oooh's and the right ahhh's in all the right places, laughed a bit, enquired a bit but the fact of the matter was - he simply just wasn’t attractive to me. 

I had built him up to be such an Adonis.  My very own globe-trekking action man who disappointingly ended up rocking such an ultimate fashion faux paux outfit that I wanted to take myself outside and kick my own fucking head in. 

WTF?  I had been stressing myself out for nowt. 

I know photography puts on a few pounds but did his head really look that small in his pictures?  

I beg to differ. 

Anyway, moral of story is:  If a man appears to be too good to be true on the internet, it's because in real life, he most probably is.

Good things really do come to those who wait . . .

They do say that all good things come to those who wait and I can definitely confirm that in my particular circumstances, this is most definitely the case. 

Three men defined my romantic life but they are not the same three men that I had the misfortune of having long term relationships with.

The first guy that I became besotted with was a year older than me at school. He had the cutest arse in his Farah trousers and his blonde streaked, shoulder length hair screamed out ‘sex object’ to me.  He teased me, ridiculed me but never relented to giving in to me and granting me my dearest wish.   

But fast forward ten years on and he couldn’t take his eyes off me when we hit town one Christmas Eve and we fell into the same bar.  Fast forward another five years on and I bumped into him at Sheffield’s Tramlines Festival.  Same thing. Eyes on me, mouth shut up.

So, who do you think I bump into in our local park when the kids want an impromptu go on the swings, coming home from ASDA?  Yep.  Him. And guess what?  Same thing.  Eyes on me, gob clamped closed. 

Men eh.  They need a right royal boot up the arse.

OK so second fella, complete superstar. Well, he was to me when I was growing up. Football apprentice for a local team with eyes to die for and a physique of the same stature. Had him toothpasted to my wall in the late eighties and it was the only time that I actually showed any real interest in football. 

Fast forward twenty years on and here we are, sending each other sexy texts, pictures and stories - and we have done for the past seven years. All thanks to Facebook. 

And guess what?  I’m finally meeting him for a date in a couple of day’s time. Eek. 

Fella number three? Well, let’s say that he was truly coveted by a LOT of females back in the day. 

And before a cruel twist of fate deprived him of a glowing career, I was privileged to have gone out on a very lovely date with him.  He really was a true gentleman. 

So, yep. You know what’s coming. . .  I recently bumped into him too. Had a fantastic couple of hours with him and I truly give blessings for such a lovely encounter. 

So the morals of this story are. . . .

1)      Blokes really are like buses.   None come for ages and then three come at once. 

2)      Good things REALLY DO come to those who wait.

Bella, Bella, Andorra la Vella

I have just returned from a breathtaking place that quite surprisingly not a lot of people are that particularly familiar with. 

It literally is a utopia on top of the world and it did more for me in three weeks than ‘home’ has done for me in a very long time. 

Now don’t get me wrong, I did miss ‘home’ but upon returning here, it wasn’t long before I was yearning with deep emotion for the happy adventure that had just been.  

I cannot begin to describe the feeling that my sabbatical has unleashed but I truly recognise its positivity and I am overwhelmed at the true joy that it promises to bring. 

I now know for sure that I do not want to live a life that is dark, oppressive and troubled.  

I want to live a life that is sunny, happy and free from burden and more importantly, I want my children to see the real beauty of Planet Earth amidst the vast landscapes and visual miracles that it so magnificently offers. 

Settle back into living a life of social slavery, debt and mundane routine?  Not on your Nelly, love.

I’m too busy planning our next adventure to terrains that we have only yet to discover.

The Facebook Friendship Facade

The Facebook community is a fickle old thing. 

So-called friends who ignore your posts, ‘overlook’ replying to your PM’s but yet spend more time visiting your profile page than you do.

The fraternity-like game of ‘let’s manipulate your popularity’ can make or break someone’s self esteem and their very will to survive. 

Playing out like a daily soap opera, Facebook is a moving, living human circus where one dimensional characters are elaborately created, fantasies exhausted and their best sides photographed. 

A backdrop that on one day can be the most fantastic source of support can rapidly switch into a modern day bear pit. Threats exchanged, people alienated, confidences broken and what was originally assumed to be an intimate platform for expressing individual frustrations and personal opinions lays the stage for the ultimate downfall.

All this and yet on average, only 10% of members on a typical friends list will actually comment or like one of their friends status updates.  

That to me says two things about the other 90%:

a)      They aren’t big lovers of technology.

Or

b)      They aren't big lovers of their Facebook ‘friends’.