So that’s a bit of a half-assed title really, especially as I never actually left the game, whatever game it is I’m speaking of. But I didn’t know what else to call it so yeah, that’s life.
Now before I go into saying anything pointless, let me just say something point-ful.
Thank you to everybody who commented on my last post, sent me lovely messages privately through my email, Facebook page or Instagram, or just read what I had to say.
From the bottom of my heart, thank you. It means more than I can describe. None of you ever met my mother (unless my brother read the post then duh, of course he met her) but she really was someone very special, someone worth remembering, and to know that there are people out there in far-flung corners of the globe who were thinking of her, who know of her… well, that’s nice.
So again, thank you.
For obvious reasons I took some time out of the online world over the past few weeks. I should rephrase that. I took some time out of being vocal on the online world over the past few weeks. I was still here the whole time, bumbling along in a silent lurker kind of way, reading other blogs, reading the comments on my blog and cyber-stalking everyone and their next door neighbours, I just wasn’t really saying anything.
And it wasn’t because I had nothing to say because I did, and I have.
It’s just… I don’t know, it sounds really stupid but I didn’t know how people would react to me carrying on with sharing my unnaturally strong love of pierogi, travel tales and pretty irrelevant anecdotes from my life what with everything going on.
I didn’t want people to think I wasn’t grieving.
Because I was, and I still am.
Just not in the traditional sense, the kind you see on majorly overdramatic made-for-TV movies where everyone wears black and sobs into their cornflakes every morning. I’m not the greatest when it comes to talking about feelings and emotions and all that icky stuff unless there’s food involved, so forgive me if this whole entire post just comes across as a heap of word vomit.
Have you seen Inside Out?
Well if you haven’t WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING WITH YOUR LIFE?!
It’s great. Bloody fantastic. Anger is my favourite – so much so that I have my own little Anger action figure thing on my bedside table because who doesn’t wanna wake up to an angry little red plastic man staring them in the face?!
Anyway, I’ve lost my Anger. And my Fear, and my Sadness and my Disgust.
When I say I’ve lost them, they’re probably still in there somewhere but are just taking some well-deserved downtime. And I don’t blame them to be honest.
See, IRL I can be kind of hot-headed. I get angry at the slightest things. If somebody cuts in front of me in a queue, I will go home, I will make a voodoo doll of them and I will stick pins in their head. Anger is my spirit animal.
Other than rice pudding, not many things actually scare me (I’m being legit – it makes me cry), but I have been pretty vocal in the past when it comes to fear of failure and embarrassment holding me (and everybody else) back. Fear hasn’t had a particularly large presence in my life these past few years, but it’s definitely been there.
Sadness is another, like Fear, that hasn’t had much control over me where I haven’t let it control me. To put it in simple terms, my mental health is pretty sound. I haven’t ever suffered with anxiety or depression, and touch wood I never will. But with all that being said, I can be pretty emosh. I get way too invested in fictional characters, and I’m not ashamed to say I’ve spent many a night agonising over the thought of George having to live without Fred for the rest of his life.
And Disgust? Well, is there really anybody out there who can say the thought of sticking their hand in a full washing up bowl that’s been left to fester overnight to unclog the plug doesn’t disgust them?
But now? I don’t cry, I don’t get angry, I don’t think twice about doing things, and on Friday night I picked up a potato that was so old it’d turned into a ball of what can only be described as black hell. Covered in flies, smelling worse than a sewer, and I picked it up without a second thought. Run at me Disgust.
Joy is still hanging about and she’s bigger and bolder than ever before. The littlest things make me so much happier than they would have before! My little sister gave me a packet of Skittles the other day and when I asked why she said “for generosity and kindness“. You’d think at fifteen years old she’d have a better grasp of the English language than that but yeah, it made me so freaking happy!
It’s weird. It’s a strange feeling. In the absence of Anger, Fear, Sadness and Disgust, it’s almost as if Joy has taken it upon herself to make up for their absence by working 5 times as hard as before.
Good old Joy.
To summarise: yes, I am grieving, but I’m also okay.
Eventually my good friends Anger, Fear, Sadness and Disgust will come back to party, but for now me and Joy are more than content to scoff all the mini pizzas ourselves.
So these last 500 words or so have basically been an extremely long-winded and unashamedly Disney-oriented way of saying that I’m here, present and accounted for and there will be more content coming very, very soon.
I have a lot more to share from my recent trip to Poland although I’m not exactly in the right sort of mindset to somehow form my thoughts and feelings about my visit to Auschwitz into coherent writing, so that may be put on the back burner for a little while longer.
Also, I’m going to Croatia on Tuesday. Well, no, I’m going to Berlin on Tuesday to fly to Montenegro on Thursday to eventually end up in Dubrovnik at some point in the following days. But yeah, Croatia is ultimately the end goal. Game of Thrones, pretty looking streets and slightly less rain than blistery old Wales – I. Am. Excited.
If anyone has any Croatia recommendations (or Montenegro while you’re at it), throw them my way!
I also think we should all take a moment to sit and appreciate how colour-coordinated this post is 😉