Tagged – 11 answers to 11 questions.

Thank you to Krista over at From Food Stamps To A Future for nominating me to answer these questions. Please make sure you check out her blog. Although Krista once suffered at the hands of an abusive husband, she has turned her life around and become an inspiration to us all. Living life with a positive outlook can be difficult when you’ve lived with endless hardship, but not for Krista, she oozes positivity and it’s been a pleasure stopping by her insightful, happy blog.

Number one:

What the most embarrassing thing in your night stand (bedside table for all you Brits)?

I’m sorry Krista but in England we usually have bedside tables that are literally just TABLES. I have one of those therefore nothing embarrassing in it or on it for that matter. Just a fan for the hot weather and a clock. BORING!

Number two:

What is your favourite thing to do on a stormy day?

SLEEP! However with a baby under one that is pretty impossible at the best of times. Before the little one, I’d usually snuggle up on the sofa and watch a good film.

Number three: 

Do you sing in the shower?

No! It might wake the baby!! Haha, not often. I’m more of bath girl myself and baths are for soaking not singing 🙂

Number four:

What’s your favourite book?

The Adventures of Spot? Pop up Peekaboo? Where’s my Monkey? Currently, those are the books I am reading daily. With my daughter. Did I say daily? 🙂 Never really been a big reader of novels but I tend to do most of my reading on-line in blogs, news etc.

Number five:

How many career titles did you have chosen as a child? Did you follow through with any of them?

As a child I loved other children, older and younger. My mother was a teacher and even taught me so I was often surrounded with children. I knew I wanted to work with them which made my mother very happy. Yet it wasn’t until my mid-twenties that I actually pursued it having started off by carving a career in Drama. That was never the right path either as I always wanted to work behind the camera as a teen but my family weren’t overly supportive of my job choices. Instead, it was hoped that I’d follow in my sister’s choice of science. That would never have been the case. I was a creative soul just lost in the unpleasantness.

Number six:

What is the meaning of life from your perspective?

I have no spiritual beliefs so find it hard to answer a question like this. All I can say is that life is a gift and a special one at that. It’s the greatest gift you can give someone. The right to breathe, exist. The right to grow and evolve. It is a magical thing not to be taken for granted.

Number seven: 

Do you prefer fruits, vegetables, or meat?

I am a meat eater and could NEVER be a vegetarian. That’s not to say I don’t like veg. Coming from an Indian background, vegetables are a massive part of our diet so I’ve grown up eating all different kinds. I especially love salads.

Number eight:

Do you write your post on the PC or paper?

I write straight onto the computer. I used to find it hard to get a flow on the screen but now it comes naturally. Practice makes perfect and all that!

Number nine:

Where is your favourite place to shop and why?

I mainly shop in Oxford Circus, Central London especially for shoes and coats (TOPSHOP LADIES – GO. SERIOUSLY!!!). I love Central London as it’s so easy to get around. Once you’re there, everywhere’s accessible by foot. Great shops, great restaurants, great everything.

Number ten:

What is the most exhilarating thing you have ever done?

Calling my abusing father a “Bastard” to his face and not regretting it the moment it passed from my lips. Oh, and revealing everything he did to me finally after keeping it hidden for over twenty years.

Number 11:

Do you have a bucket list?

I used to live like this, you know the twenty things to do before you die or fifteen places in the world you’d like to visit kinda thing? Now things are more simple than that. I just want my marriage to work, my family to grow and to one day feel good about myself. Maybe that’s my bucket list and I will have to let you know whether I fulfil these three wishes in the future.

Nominating,

Here are your questions.

  1. Where is home and are you happy there?
  2. Are you where you thought you’d be in your life right now?
  3. What would you say to your younger self?
  4. Does true love exist? If so, how have you experienced it?
  5. If someone could cook you any meal perfectly, what would you request?
  6. What makes a good friend?
  7. Do you have nightmares, what haunts you?
  8. Where is the one place you would tell someone who’s never travelled to go on holiday?
  9. Do you have a high pain threshold?
  10. Do your dreams feel real, what do they consist of?
  11. Are you a positive person?

I hope these aren’t too time consuming or difficult! Thanks again Krista, it was a fun thing to do on a Sunday afternoon (while baby napped!).

*Image Google*

Back to my Books.

I was talking to a colleague today. There was chat of how long we wanted to stay in our current careers. I love my job but can’t help but long for a career as a writer. 

It is something I am looking forward to getting back to once baby is born.

I will be taking several months maternity leave and plan to use this time wisely. Obviously, raising baby will be priority number one. So any chance I get to write and return to my novels, will be used appropriately and efficiently. I think it’s time to get back to my books. They have been neglected for far too long. 

Several years back, I wrote many film scripts. Most were rubbish to be frank! However, there were a select few that stood out. Ones that were of the Thriller genre and could really hold their place in the market today. As they are film scripts, I will need to redo and rewrite them as novels. THAT is going to take a lot of time! But it’s something I am willing to do.

Many people have told me for many years that I will NEVER be a writer, that it is my sister’s career not mine. Who is to say what I can and cannot be?

Writing is my passion and it’s time I put myself first. Well, after baby that is.

 

Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.

 

Proof of Love.

Showering of gifts

filter on through 

proving your love

in ridiculous ways

Drenched in luxury

soaked in hurt

proving your love

means no control

Downpours of decadence

wash over me

proving your love

showing your power

Floods of extravagance

fearing your rule

proving your love

wasted on me

Tsunami of treats

backed into corners

proving your love

cannot be tempted

Submerged in gluttony

a callous mistake

proving your love

proving my hate.

 

Back to Work Blues.

Tomorrow is my first day back at work after a week off. I can successfully say that this was my least productive holiday in the sense that I have done f**k all this week! On purpose may I add. The most work and attention has gone into my blog which has been great. It’s been fantastic to have the time to sit down, especially in the day (normally I blog straight after work, completely shattered) and write. Poetry Week has been a total success. I was wary to post my poetry. After reading so many of my fellow peers’ and poets’ work on WordPress, I was not sure mine would compete in the slightest but each one has received some lovely support and likes. I really appreciate that (it’s still pretty new to me!).

Based on your reactions, I think I’ll make Poetry Week a monthly post 🙂

I do have back to work blues. I hope I do not walk straight back into stress again. The last five months have been extremely stressful at work and home hasn’t been much different. However, I am now more aware of my body and the triggers of stress. Hopefully, with the aid of my new-found breathing exercises, I can maintain and keep my stress levels under control.

Today will be my final poetry post till next month. In March, I will begin a series of letters that I wish I had the courage to write in reality. I am hopeful that it will provide and serve me with a little more closure.

March 2nd is also my birthday!

Link to my Facebook Page.

To all my followers:

I have finally (after over a year) customized my WordPress Page! As of now, there is a link on my blog sidebar to the Facebook page I created at the beginning of the year – Share and Aware. It is a chance for you all to share and for me to bring the subject of emotional abuse to a clearer light. PLEASE, take some time to check it out. It would be greatly appreciated 🙂

(Being a member of Facebook would help too!)

The Pledge – 2014.

First things first: Happy New Year!

It is the first day of a brand new year. We all have a new path to follow, a clean slate, a time to build bridges, a chance to take more risks, we should embrace the opportunities before fear kicks in.

I am going to make a pledge. No resolutions. They don’t work. I can’t promise myself anything but I can aspire to be a better me. Aspiration and hope mesh together. It does not require constant monitoring or worry that you’ve betrayed yourself. Who needs that kind of anxiety? Instead, I am making a pledge of 10 hopes and aspirations for this year. 10 is an easy number to reach. It is not impossible but gives me time to fulfil them.

  1. Finish my autobiography – I began it in 2010 and it still remains the most difficult task to complete. Only because it requires me to draw up and remember the most torrid of memories, some so bad that I cannot even bring myself to blog about.
  2. Find an exercise I enjoy – I’m not a gym-goer, I’ve tried but I can’t seem to find any enjoyment in walking on a treadmill – alone, with dozens of fitness-mad people surrounding me. I’m not the greatest fan of the “outdoors”. I’m not a hiker, I hate the English weather. I haven’t tried Yoga, perhaps that’ll suit me more. I love dance. I run the school’s dance and musical theatre club at work each term so get a regular burst of exercise then. But I need to find something more consistent that I equally enjoy.
  3. Look in mirror again without fear – I need to like my reflection. I do not think this will be an easy task but if I want to overcome my BDD, this may be the only way.
  4. Take more courses – Last year I went on an Assertiveness course at City Lit in Central London. It is by far, the best thing that I did in 2013. I learnt so much, not only about myself but the way in which others treat me. I am due to take a tap-dancing workshop this month (yes hilarious! I have tap danced before though) so hopefully it will the start of many more.
  5. Say No – A follow up from my assertiveness course. It will be incredibly fulfilling if I can achieve this. It is time to put my needs first.
  6. Take a holiday – Surprisingly, this seems to be an impossible task. Money isn’t the issue; it’s time. Although I get regular breaks through the year (I work in a school), my husband cannot necessarily take the same amount off work as me. We will sort it out this year and take a much needed holiday together. Somewhere luxurious please!
  7. See my friends more – I have become a bit of a hermit. By accident more than anything. This year I must spend more time with friends. I miss them.
  8. Start writing to agents – It’s a beginning. A new one. I need to focus a little bit and have some direction. If I want something then I’m going to need to put in some work. I want to a writer. I better get on it.
  9. Celebrate my birthday – I didn’t last year. I went for a quiet dinner with my husband which resulted in a week off work with gastric flu. This year I will celebrate getting older. My life is worth celebrating.
  10. Believe in myself and what I can do – I must stay positive. I got through a lot worse all those years ago and I need to get my fight and drive back. With hope and a little confidence, I will look to the future with brighter eyes and an open heart. I am capable of many things.

Good luck with all your pledges. I hope you too set some achievable and reachable goals that make you happy.

Love Ros xx

5th September 2012 – The funeral Part 1.

I have to blog about this nightmare of a day in two parts as there is just so much to tell you all.

Below is an extract detailing the sequence of events that I endured that day, taken from my autobiography. The beginning of the extract explains the lead up to the day, part of which I have mentioned in an earlier post about the phone call with my sister but as it is part of the chapter and important to the story, I will keep it in.

Part 2 will follow on Saturday.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN – THE NEXT CHAPTER

 

My father’s funeral took place on September 5th 2012 in East London. It was based at his church and fully organised by my sister. I was sent an email confirming the date and time.

On the only phone call after my father’s death, my sister rang to talk about the arrangements. I wasn’t really a part of it but to keep up appearances, she called anyway. It was an awkward conversation, the first without my father present. It was like speaking with a stranger, with someone who knew nothing about the history with Him. Yet, she was well aware of everything. She was just choosing to make every excuse in the book to defend him. She talked consistently about the funeral. I remained silent. What was there to say? I felt I could not speak my mind. That was until she began talking about songs and flowers.

She mentioned that a song, my father’s favourite song, would be played as his coffin entered the church.

That song was, “What a Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong.

When I think about the lyrics,

I see trees green, red roses too. I watch them bloom, for me and you and I think to myself, what a wonderful world.

These are not the lyrics that remind me of my father. They only make sense to me in reference to him being gone and me being free. I’m pretty certain my sister was implying the opposite.

It was also a lie.

What a Wonderful World was actually my mother’s favourite song. Somewhere along the line, my sister’s lines had become blurred. My father never really cared for music.

In regards to the flowers, my sister casually asked me how much I would be willing to pay for my half of them. She listed the types of flowers and what would be suitable to surround the coffin. That was as much as I heard before I couldn’t contain it any longer. The tears I had held back for years, the trauma and the stress all exploded and in one breath I made it very clear I would not be contributing in any way. Everything poured out. I couldn’t hide it anymore, she needed to know.

Through endless streams of tears, I mustered the strength to reveal as much as I could. She listened, at best, she was silent. I could never tell the difference. I told her about the last time I had been with my father – the afternoon in the car in July. I opened up about the way he behaved and the fear I felt. Expecting my older sister to understand, I was shocked by her response.

“He was very ill by then,” she said as she began pleading his case, “he was probably tired; he couldn’t help it”.

She wasn’t even there and she silenced me.

Why did I think my father’s greatest supporter would back me?

I left the conversation immediately.

 

5th September 2012

I had been dreading this day for the previous two weeks. It had finally arrived and I had to gather any courage I had left to face it. My friend Natasha offered to come for the service. I accepted her offer, she and David were my protective barrier that day against the people who just couldn’t understand.

His funeral service was held in his church in East London.

As the burning sun beat down on me, I wiped the nervous droplets from my brow and entered the church. My sister and her husband were stood in the corridor greeting everyone. I hugged her, reaching out for some kind of emotion but I received nothing so I continued my way through to the church hall where the funeral was taking place. My brother-in-law did not acknowledge my presence.

I looked around the barely decorated room. It was filled with people, friends of my father’s, family and neighbours. Everyone was smartly dressed, paying their respects. I was wearing loose black trousers and a bright green peplum top. I needed to wear something bright. I needed to show them I was not mourning. Green was the colour that calmed me; it was the obvious colour to wear. My eyes immediately met with my mothers’. I headed straight to her. A man appeared by me as I struggled to keep my emotions together. He gestured for me, as my father’s daughter, to sit at the front. My breathing quickened as I placed my hand tightly on my mother. I could only muster one “No”. The man didn’t understand my refusal. I looked at my mother. She understood. She knew I was not going to pretend nor be part of the farce I was about to face. She told me to sit where ever I wanted. That turned out to be the front of the back section of chairs left out for late arrivals behind the congregation. I positioned myself directly ahead of the aisle.

My mother turned back to see if I was okay. I smiled. I was glad she had come especially with the support of her close friends. It was important for her to witness it.

My sister entered with her husband and a band of people followed her. She was being comforted by his friends. I watched as she made her way to the front row. She hugged one of his pastors, a man who thought very highly of my father.

Music began. Thankfully, it was not What a Wonderful World. Heads turned as his expensive, wooden coffin was carried in. It was placed on a stand directly ahead of me. I stared at it; I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

I was determined to get through the charade. I had brought a notebook with me. I focussed on putting all the feelings I was going through into it and wrote down a detailed account of the following two hours. Writing was the one thing that kept me going through that horrible, deceitful service.