Faith · Goals · Gratitude · Just Me · Lets Talk · Life · Uncategorized · Womanhood

Empty the crap from your mind

It’s no secret that I struggle with self-esteem and self-confidence levels, I talk openly about it b/c it’s normal, so normal that I think each of us has some degree of self-doubt that we deal with on a daily basis.

What I wanna know is this:

Are you ready to mix it up and take control?

Are you ready for baby steps to creating less self doubt and more confidence?

What are you willing to do?

Are you ready to be accountable?

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m no counsellor or specialist in this field by any shot. I am simply a woman who has learned a few things along my 48 yr journey.

Like you, I have had my share of hard times, negative experiences and bad choices.

I’ve put down, lied to, lied about and ridiculed.

I’ve become broken so many times that I now qualify as an authentic antique!!

But for as long as I have breath in my body I shall continue to fight on but what I won’t be doing is pulling the woe me card!

This last 4 years has certainly taken its toll on me, I’ve ricocheted from fighting to giving up, to talking to holding it all in. I’ve changed personalities and resorted back to my core beliefs and I’ve even hit so rock bottom I reconsidered if I even wanted a future.

My own self-destruction has been more damaging than anything anyone else could do to me, and trust me, they’ve tried.

As I go through writing my book, I speak regularly with child psychologists, in these conversations I learn much about the psyche of a child bully and the victim, it’s no secret that some of the same mindset fits with us adults too so through my research I couldn’t help but internalise some of the responses I received.

The basic answer is this:

What we think defines us.

It really is that simple as adults. We have so much more control over our minds than we allow.

Let’s say someone gossips about us, they say we are a liar.

That in itself is damaging, to us and about us whether it’s true or not.

How do we react?

Well, it’s not how we react that is important but what we react with.

I.e. how: shouting, becoming defensive, accusing, crying, accusing the accuser of something.

what: calm explanation, even voice tone, not criticising the accuser, using kind words.

Both responses bring results, reassurance and conversation to a productive conclusion or a further argument and bad feelings.

What we are left with squarely depends what we choose to react with, if we choose to confront we feel more conflicted and angry. If we choose to rationalise and remain level headed we feel easier and convicted in our response.

By that simple example, I can move on to what this post is really about:

Self confidence, self esteem and self respect.

What takes yours away?

What holds you back?

The bottom line is if we learn the answer to this we can build on becoming who we were meant to be, who we want to be.

It’s not easy but it’s worth it. You’re worth it.

I’ll share with you a little of my back story:

I am a people pleaser. I fear being misunderstood b/c oftentimes it means an opinion of me seems like something so far from who I am or what my intentions are it appears to be untrue.

Lies. The smallest of lies can end a friendship with me. It can end all trust in someone and I spend a stupid amount of time being consumed by why someone would lie about someone else. It really is that big of a deal to me.

I have a person in my life who I love and respect dearly, however, no matter what I do I’m never enough, there appears to be very little respect there and it doesn’t matter how much I think things are ok after a chat, I hear words that break my heart b/c they are purely untrue, sometimes blatant lies and sometimes a part of the truth, either way it doesn’t hold much weight on our relationship.

On the upside, this person can be charming, loving, supportive, funny, caring and a joy to be with. That is the side I keep hold of.

This is the main person that has far too much power to break me and that is a choice I make. Ultimately, I choose to walk this path in the belief that one day it will all come out and stop, regain momentum and become a healthy relationship again. (No, it’s not a partner!)

Some days I feel so broken that I wonder why I’m even here. Don’t get me wrong, I’m in no way suicidal, just extremely down and boxed in. Trusting someone else in those times is definitely not an option for me. Ever.

The truth is we are all going to meet someone like the above person, the world is full of so many different personalities and each one has their fears, worries, demons etc so what do we do? Fight or flight. Me, I’m fighting.

So now the decision is this: What am I prepared to do to gain overall control of my self-worth?

Well that, my dear friend is simple:

I am going to blog and journal!

That is my current answer. Writing my head-junk down helps me re-process it, find solutions, see my strengths and weaknesses and make points to work on.

I’m going to action the things that make me feel worthless.

I’m going to make some ‘me time’ and make it count, even if it’s just 5 minutes.

I’m going to give up the tv for 10 days (with the view to giving it up totally) and read good, uplifting books that inspire me rationally.

I’m going to be more sociable when I don’t feel like it.

I’m going to do my hair every single morning.

I’m going to start wearing make-up and doing nails, things I’ve stopped a while ago.

I’m going to send at least one message/email per day to someone I see struggling. It doesn’t matter if they respond or not.

I’m going to reasses the words I use, positive, passive-aggressive, negative.

I’m going to tell myself three good things I like about me every day.

I’m going to work harder to ignore the negative or respond more confinded to regain positivity.

I’m going to improve my diet, help my conditions and share my journey.

I’m going to tell whoever wants to listen the wonderful things that they too can try to improve their lives.

Each time I catch myself thinking negatively, I’m going to shake my head and rethink something good.

So, I’ve waffled on for longer than I’d planned, thanks for sticking with it!! 🙂

If you wanna join my journey, please comment, email me (debbie dot willson at yahoo dot co dot uk or add me on Facebook and drop me a message there. I’m interested in hearing your story and walking together to a more confident, happier and freer you!

Charley · children · Faith · Family · Gratitude · Happy · Hope · Just Me · Life · Love · Uncategorized

It’s been a while

Browsing through some emails, I came across an old comment that was posted here a year ago. Somehow I had managed to forget that I used to offload here and put my thoughts together.

Oh, how life has changed since the last blog post!

All for the better, thankfully.

Not perfect, but I never want perfect.

But what I have is exactly what I want and I love it.

We had a fun and fast summer, going here there and everywhere, trying new foods, reading new books, hanging out with the ‘new’ guy and his kids and just generally enjoying life.

My youngest granddaughter turned 1 in October, my grandson has just turned 10 months and both my older granddaughters are loving school.


My older boys love their jobs, they’re out and about doing good in their lives and Kirsten has adjusted to mom-life just fantastic.

Charley is now in high school, he has private drum lessons and is being promoted for fashion/catalogue and commercial modeling (another story for another day) and recommended for some tv work, whatever that means.


I’m still working on writing my books, I also done a huge amount of research into Juice Plus when I determined that I had to do something to take control of how my food was affecting/not benefiting my health. In the end, I come to believe in it so much that I became a distributor! I’m also doing some work for the Mr’s brother-in-law so in all I have some excellent things keeping me going.


As the weather is changing and the ole bones are struggling I also found out that my arthritis is progressing along. Other health issues have popped up too but I don’t feel like talking about them just now.

Instead, I’m working on Christmas gifts! Each person I’m giving is receiving something personal and handmade, I’ve spent hours working out what they will be and now I’m excited to be getting on with them. Well, soon as I bought the stuff in 🙂

So as I sit here, this lazy Sunday afternoon, watching Christmas movies and planning out my week I can’t help but count my blessings and see how wonderful life is.

my blog signature

Faith · God · Gratitude · Hope · Jesus · Just Me · Uncategorized

Update re my last post and an apology

My last post was my struggle with my role as a mom whilst enduring arthritis and off days and letting my kids know that I realise my previous moans to them were me projecting my own role/expectations onto them and I realised it was unfair.

However, as I was writing what I’d put in my journal I also became aware that I had to expand on some things I was sharing so the quality of the writing was not fluent. So I apologise.

A few days after the last post I received the sweetest email I’ve probably ever had. I’ve got permission to share some of it but the writer wants to remain anonymous, which I’m sure you’ll understand why as you read on:

Dear Debs, Oh how my heart aches for you right now. I feel your pain, emotional, mental, physical and motherhood pain. I would like to share the pain of womanhood that I think you need most right now. Please forgive me if I speak out of turn but I too feel the need to share this with you as you did in your purest form in your blog.

Many years ago I had a beautiful baby boy, Micah, he was diagnosed with osteo arthritis when he was five years old. Along with many other health issues he saw in his tenth birthday before he went home to our loving Father in Heaven.

I have osteo and rheumatoid arthritis too, the struggles are debilitating and after losing Micah I also lost my marriage. My husband was overwhelmed with all he had to endure too, which I can understand.

As a woman though, we carry so much differently to men. Women are more likely to date a disabled guy than the other way round.

Please don’t give up on dating. Please don’t give up on men. Please don’t give up on Lds men as I know they are a funny and different mentality but once in a while you will find one that is the real deal, you just have to trust in the Lord.

A woman with disabilities is almost cruel, given the roles we need to fulfil, whether we have children or not. But it happens for a reason, only you know what you gain, give, lose, keep with your own hold backs but take a look… are you being held down for a more personal reason?

I have read your blog from the beginning and I see how you have hashed out your thoughts and feelings, ranted and rationalised. I see how you have been near to dispair and then full of excitement. Oh how I’ve walked a path that you have and come through it the way you are now. I’ve felt the frustrations of children not helping in the way I needed help or understanding I’m tired to the core without any valid reason, I’ve felt the urge to snap at someone who’s tried to help by comparing their own pain to mine. None of it matters, my dear Debs, none of it.

Today, whatever the day holds you are a beautiful person inside and out, today you are doing your best whether you are sat on the sofa or cleaning your home. Today you are amazing because you woke up, got up and started the day.

Tomorrow you will be the same, whatever you do in the day. I promise.

You love unconditionally, you give, you try, you laugh, you support, you encourage, you believe, you hope, you fail, you get up, you love again… and that is how I know you are doing better than you realise. You just don’t give up.

When Micah died, I thought about joining him. Honestly, I didn’t think I could go on without his sweet face and silly sense of humour. My older son picked up what I couldn’t do for him and he eventually sunk into a depression. My shame is in that I didn’t even notice it. He attempted to take his own life when he was 19, 4 years after losing Micah. He didn’t only lose his brother, he lost his best mate, his arguing partner, his buddy and then his parents.

So much is lost in this life, especially when we stop or fail to see.

Please stop, look around and see what is there, that is what you are probably meant to be doing. I don’t know that of course, but I’m pretty certain theres something in that.

Its been 10 years now since Micah left us and I’ve learned to move on, learned to enjoy Jack and my grandson, Will. My ex and I are on speaking terms but we never seem to get past the sadness when we are in the same company.

I have found a new love though. Like you I never believed I would or could. My love is everything I’m not, he’s socially confident, active and full of life. Outwardly I see people wonder why we are together but the secret is this:

We believe in the same things. We have many interests in common and at home we are both equal. He doesn’t need to ‘pull my cart’ as you’ve put it, unless I ask him to. He doesn’t give me pity, he gives me encouragement.

Oh and one more thing, my love comes with his own ‘disabilities’ that happen to differ from mine….

He has a mean and nasty ex wife! Comparison? Give my physical disabilities any day. 🙂

So, my sweet Debs, I don’t know if any of my words are of comfort to you but know one last thing, you are in my prayers that you will get all the love, support, care and companionship that you deserve and need.

All my love. CT

When I read this email I admit that I shed many tears for the pain she’d endured, yet what really hit me was it wasn’t my former blog post that needed to help someone else, perhaps it was so someone else could help me.

Food for thought.


Arthritis · Uncategorized

To my kids, my parents and arthritis (very long)

Id started writing this in my journal, not really sure if I wanted to share it with you but the more I was writing the stronger I was feeling that it should be a blog post. Not sure why yet, it’s incredibly personal and it’s me speaking at my rawest. Here goes.

It’s about 2 am right now, and I’m on the edge of tears consumed with guilt. The infection, the sleep routine and energy levels are having a riot with my system. For me it means I can’t be the mom I want to be or should be. It means you are left to your own devices when I should be with you the most. It means I’m expecting you to pull my cart when I can’t and it means that because you do things different to me and prioritise different to me my heart a nd mind becomes more conflicted because I get it. I get that you are not me. Your role in this family is not the same as mine. I feel like I am losing mine though and it’s the only one that makes me feel worth anything important. It’s about this time of my thinking that I get frustrated and irritated, I snap at you then internally kick myself hard b/c I’ve just seen the hurt and confusion on your faces. It’s not my job to cause hurt to you, to offload my inabilities on to you and mentally demand you become me. 

I am the person that gave you life, I pledged my life to you for every day I air in my lungs, no matter how easy or hard it got. It is my job to love you, help you grow and develop, to mature into fine adults and stand strong no matter what life throws at you. I should be teaching you to find solutions to problems, to nurture your caring natures and become independant for a future life away from home. I should instill self worth, confidence and a secure knowledge of your reason for being here. I do not have the right to break your heart, to cause you pain or doubting moments on your being. I do not have the right to expect you to become me when I can’t be.

I’m sorry.

My arthritis sometimes knocks me sideways. It does not care that it’s only 11am and I need to go shopping or I have two older children I would like to go and visit. It doesn’t care that the beds need making or my hair needs some tlc.

My specific symptoms of arthritis, the secondary conditions I’ve gained and the side effects of any of the above have no respect. They have their job to do and they’re going to fight to do it no matter what I want or say or feel. It has no care that I’m a single mom, trying to work, trying to raise my 11 yr old son, trying to be a support to my daughter who’s become a mom for the first time. It has no care that I miss my granddaughters so much it hurts to the point of tears. It has no care that I want to be independant or want to go and make someone else smile. It has no care that my car needs cleaning or my pool needs hosing.

It also doesn’t care how I feel. It tackles my seratonin levels regularly meaning that no matter how strong minded and faithful I am, the chemical imbalance in my system will always drag me down so I need anti depressants. It’s an easy word to use, depressed, and that’s not what I am, my heart is full of gratitude, love, happy and joy. Yet the attack on the seratonin is another way for the beast within me to drag me under. It tries to change my thinking, sometimes it wins and I could kick myself for allowing it, but the tablets control it now and that means the real me can fight for all I’m worth.

I have this fear. It’s with me every day, it’s almost like a thorn that jolts me when I let my guard down too much.

I fear that my life is all it is ever going to be. That I’ve reached my goal limit quota. I fear that I’m all I’ll ever be. Given all I will ever be able to give. Done all I am ever able to do. I fear that this spot right here, where I am now is the final destination and from here on I am nothing more than a spectator.

You see, my diagnosis meant I had to say goodbye to my old life and the one I was creating and learn to live a new one, what I didn’t know at the time was the one I was building doesn’t have the longevity of my former one. After a long time and much support I learned to live a life that looked normal. I learned to pretend. I learned to cry in private and wear a new mask outside. I devised a theory to give people around me the ok to not value me, because I stopped valuing me. In doing so I taught you have to lose value in me too.

I live most of my life sitting on the sidelines, being an onlooker. It’s sometimes a lonely place to be.

I refused to be a victim, to lay down and take it. I refused to be a statistic and be a complainer. I refused to quit and feel subhuman. What I actually done was learn how to be two shades of me. The inner me and the outer me. I learned it to an art.

I’m so sorry I gave you false information. It’s never been ok for me to tell you I’m feeling useless or out of my depth, it’s never been on for me to tell you I can’t do it because I never wanted you to learn that from me, the world will teach you that and help you to manipulate it all you want, but I want more for you than that.

I’m sorry that I’ve taken my finger off the pulse. My attempts to get and keep us organised and self reliant are sometimes too much for me and then I fail to remember they were my methods, not yours. I’m sorry that you are both at an important part of your life and I’m barely present, even if I am in the same room.

I wanted us to have a simpler life, to have an easy access to get out there, relax and enjoy being together whatever we did so I bought a caravan. Epic fail that has been. I bust a gut to get us booked to go to Florida, then my dislocated knees meant I couldnt get the medical clearance to fly, which I needed to have because of needing to take my medication with me. Another epic fail. I know my worth is dependant on what you find my worth to be. Thats my measuring stick. I know there is much more to me as well but let’s face it, that’s had to go now b/c I am just not able to have the life I worked so hard to get. I have to be ok that and maybe one day I will.

Today I’m more concerned with what today holds, today I’m concerned with keeping it together when all I want to do is scream at my Rheumatologist to get the pain the heck out of me. Today I want to pick up the rubbish bag and put it in the bin outside.

Today I want to be me. Just me. To feel a little bit normal, just five minutes.

Today I would like someone to just hold me tight, not speaking, not promising just hold me and let me cry till I’m dried out. Then look at me and say ‘so what’s next?’

Arthritis doesn’t care about me.

 It doesn’t care about you either.

But I do. With every fibre of my being I care. Whether you are with me or not I think of you, all four of my kids. I miss them. I ache inside and wish I could be more for you all. I’m sorry you got stuck with me.

But no matter how bad my day gets or my body, there is not one second I don’t love you. There is not one second I’m not thinking of you. 

Then I have my own parents in my head. Again my heart hurts. How can I be a better daughter to them? They are no spring chicks now, they have supported me through everything I’ve ever done in my life, even the mistakes, the long distances and the sheer low times. Never really asking anything of me other than to be a good person and to be happy. My heart has so much regret, so much missed time that I’m acutely aware of, a growing fear that I may not be able to be the daughter they deserve, God knows my body is not what it used to be and everyone around me is affected by it. 

To my parents I say this:

I love you with everything I am. Thank you for trying so hard to understand me and my craziness over the years. Thank you for never saying ‘I told you so’ or ‘well that was stupid’. Thank you for having my back when I probably just needed a kick up the butt. Thank you for not laying a guilt trip on me. Thank you for letting me be weak when all I needed was you to hug me. Thank you for seeing my good sides and drumming them into me when all I’m seeing are my faults and weeknesses. Thank you for not being perfect but being real, being open and trying so damn hard to not fall apart yourselves, at least to me.

Dad: You always told me I have it in me to be whatever I want to be, even the Prime Minister! You made me fly without even knowing it. At my worst you made me feel like the only person on earth you wanted to speak to. You made my heart feel calm when it felt like it was breaking on the outside. I know your heart hurts, I feel it too especially where the grandkids/great grandkids are concerned, I admire you trying to understand even if it’s just words most of the time. You always have my back. You are my hero.

Mom: We certainly know how to laugh, don’t we? Always the one that lets me vent, rant, cry and fall apart and always the one that gets up and hugs me tight, giving me the safest place in the world to be. You fill my cup when I have nothing to put in it, whether I ask or not. You do it because its who you are, because you want to and because you love me that much. We’ve had are share of arguements too, eh? We so alike in so many ways it’s inevitable we’d clash now and again but we’ve grown from it, matured and learned. I’ve seen you at your hardest and your best and look where we are, I am what I am b/c you showed me how. You are my best friend.

I’m sorry I instigated the geographical break up of this family all those years ago. I’m sorry for all the times I wasn’t there. I’m sorry for all the times I can’t be there in the future, oh how we take life and our health for granted.

For years before my diagnosis I had osteo and rheumatoid arthritis, it was just not detected, on looking back it explained many things that happened over the years, some that I got in seriously hot water for! If only I’d known then what I know now.

Kirsten: When you told me you were pregnant and I hit the roof, actually no I didn’t, I was like a Ninja Crazed Woman! I hit you hard with the reality of what was happening. I threw all my tough times at you in one 45 minute time frame. My heart broke for the path you were walking. I didn’t see the gift of your child for a good 24 hours. I knew the extra difficult challenges that would arise with the father and his family. It was a car crash waiting to happen. 9 months on I look at my precious grandson and my heart melts. I look at you feed him or hold him and I remember that feeling when I held Jaymie, Scott, you and Charley and I realised that you had probably just come into your own and I had to support that. You asked me to raise Jensen in the Gospel, take him to church and encourage him to live the principles we all live by. Let me tell you more about that.

It’s been a long time since I was able to go to church. It’s not a choice to not go, far, far from it. Charley goes with a church member who lives nearby, Trevor. Trevor is also his Sunday School Teacher. He is a man of faith, a foundation and a man of love, dedication and all things I want my son to be. Trevor is the closest we have to a Priesthood in our home. He never gives up on me and never on Charley. 

When I get up with Charley and watch him get ready for church my heart skips a beat when I see him in his suit, his scriptures in hand and eager to go. I also feel my heart drop b/c I want to go with him. I want to hear his excitement from what he’s learned in Primary and SS. I want to see his face shine when a principle has clicked in his head or when another ward member has taken the time to shake his hand and ask how he is, how school is going or how his testimony is. I want to sit next to him in Sacrament and answer his questions when a speaker says something he wants to understand more. I also want to feel the sweet feeling of the spirit again and again and again on each and every Sabbath. I want to sit amongst like minded people and feel that I am part of something wonderful and loving. I want to listen to the teachers and understand more about the Gospel we’ve had in our lives for the last 16 years. I want to get up off the sofa and give myself one last check over in the mirror then head off on the drive to renew my promises, to feel the love I know Heavenly Father has for me as well.

Instead I see Charley off and shed a little tear. You see, I’m a little bit jealous at that moment, jealous that Charley has the opportunity to go where he belongs for three hours solid and re-learn his place, his meaning and his faith.

For me it’s a little different. I can’t just get up, get ready and go.

Do you know the spoon shortage theory?

By the time I am ready to get out the door I have all but done myself in for the day. Energy is on a timer from the minute I wake up, on countdown without a break. The continual process of getting myself through the doors of the chapel means I have used up approximately 8 of my 10 spoons that day, not to mention getting from one class to another, being polite and speaking with people and getting home. Also factor in dinner, bedtime routine and actually getting to bed. My body can no longer do that all on its own. I’m constantly told there are plenty of people to help but the truth is, who? How do I know if there is someone there that day who is happy to lift my wheelchair out the boot, set it up, push me round and then help me back to the car afterwards? That’s like going shopping and being sure there are plenty of people who are willing to help, perhaps there are but without prior planning I have no certainty of that. Everyone has their own agenda. Yet again I am one person, one. Then there are the times that my knee has dislocated and I can barely move, be it standing, sitting or laying down. My car seat is an issue, just going the 1 mile to the school or 1/2 mile to the shop. I drive a larger car, automatic which makes my life easier but whatever day of the week it is I have the same challenge. On a school day you will always find me hobbling to the car in my pj’s. Always. That’s b/c I have taken out the getting ready part b/c I come straight home, I drop Charley off at the gate and that’s it. That’s enough. I also fractured my back recently, the pain comes and goes but a lingering ache is always there. Pressure when sitting is beginning to affect me more as time goes on but it’s one more thing to add to the list of woes in this mortal body.

I will never be a burden to anyone. I never expect anyone to take on my challenges. If I have help, great. If I don’t, that’s ok too, I’ll find another way.

However, as Charley reaches his 12th birthday he’s not only working hard preparing for his SATS and then the transition to high school in September but he’s also about to start a new journey in Young Mens. A place I know he will thrive and have his heart broken all at the same time. 

I so badly want Jensen raised in the Gospel, it will give him his purpose in life, his self worth and a guideline to being the man he is intended to be. He will walk with honour and integrity, just like Charley and many, many other boys I know and it will keep him grounded. I fear that I may not be the right example for him, the one to lead him into consistency and steadfastness. I worry for my lack of presence with Charley, I worry for the lack of Priesthood in our home and in his life. So Please consider coming back to church, help me raise up our boys to be the men they deserve to be.

Arthritis: A non terminal but life long condition that spends its time destroying the one thing God has given us to get through this life, our body.

Faith: A free for all, 24/7 line to the one man who can get us through the darkest moments, reshape our faults and love us unconditionally, regardless.

My journal is a little longer than this because I’ve wrote little notes to my three boys and my three granddaughters but I’ve kept those parts out.

As I said at the beginning, I have no ideas why I felt so certain I should blog this but if this helps just one person then you are the reason, and that’s good enough for me.


Arthritis · Faith

I couldn't be bothered to get the remote…

While I went offline for a few months I had so many things happen it was almost comical.

In the first week we homed a little yorkie dog, Millie.

She loves to snuggle
She loves to snuggle

I got the upper level of my manor decorated and had a major overhaul.

Then I sat down one night planning to watch a bit of tv before having a bath and read book in bed.

But the remote was on the other side of the room and I really couldn’t be bothered with getting up again.

So I sat in silence.

I do that sometimes. I like to know that I’m still ok with being with myself.

It was a nice, calm, contented feeling.

But one thing jolted me from that little safeness I had.

My weight bothers me. A lot.

My extra poundage isn’t from eating. It’s a combination of not eating and my sometimes inability to be working out in some effective way like I used to.

Food has always been my nemesis. I know my body needs it, I know I love fruit and veg but I also know that I can go days without eating and not think about it. {Thankfully I do remember to feed my kids!} Over the years I’ve been very blessed with a healthy weight, only struggling to lose it when I had given birth to Charley but the divorce diet took me from a size 16 to a size 10 in 6 weeks. Not recommended! As my eating habits do not usually include junk {ok, rarely!} I never really felt any worse for it, after all I’ve always been active and I felt fine but it was after the arthritis hit me sideways that I really had a problem.

I went from this healthy
I went from this healthy, taken 4 years ago. 
To this unhealthy. (taken two weeks ago when we went to Burnham)
To this unhealthy.
(taken two weeks ago when we went to Burnham)


I struggled to hand over any part of my motherhood to someone else, especially when it was basic stuff. I slumped into a depression without realising where I was going, we had take outs a lot and I barely left the house. It was not good. It wasn’t long before the damage of a very unhealthy diet took its toll and then my inability to work out or move for long was overwhelmingly painful to acknowledge. However, after my pity party ended I redesigned my future life. I done my hair {always was my pride and joy} slapped on some lip gloss and bought a couple new outfits. I don’t look in the mirror unless I have to b/c I’ve learned that will change my thinking immediately. 

So without the commitments I’d had on the laptop I was free to regain some control in my life. I worked out a meal plan, tried really hard to do the breakfast thing, something I’ve always struggled with and adjusted my shopping list to include some highly recommended foods and swap some other questionable ones. Moreover I am conscious to eat at mealtimes, whether I’m hungry or not and let my body receive what it needs. I noticed a difference after a week or so, my energy levels were better, my focus was clearer and my direction was more on track. I don’t look at what pounds I’ve lost, I am looking at how my body is going.

Not the way I want it to yet, but it’s a work in progress. The pounds are moving, the eating habits are improving and my self confidence is much better. I’m not where I want to be or where I’m used to being but that’s ok, it will happen because I’ve gained a new friend to join me on this journey. A wibble wobble machine!! It is highly recommended by my GP, and the only machinery suitable for me at the moment. I stand and wobble for as long as I can, may not be much sometimes but commitment is something I am not afraid of!

The journey I have embarked on is still going strong in my day to day life, I don’t like what I see in the mirror so I’m going to change it, one day at a time. I have faith in me b/c I know my Heavenly Father has it, I believe I have all the support I need just in Him but the fact my family and friends support me is a bonus.

I am not using any supplements or aids other than healthy eating, regular meals and the wibble wobble machine.

All this because I couldn’t be bothered to get up and get that remote control!!


Facebook · Just Me · Learn · Lets Talk · Life

My 'new' relationship with Facebook!

This post may read as a complaint, it’s intended to share how something affects me personally. If just one person feels how I do then I hope they have the courage to stand against it. So, what’s bugging me?


I love being sociable. I like to chat to people.

Any people, I find them all interesting.

But after a week or so of being back on Facebook I feel stressed.

My fault for allowing it but I wanted to analyse why something I can turn off bothers me so much.

And so here it is:

I log in every couple of days to see how the FB world is going yet scrolling down my news feed I see videos of animals being hurt.

Pregnancy gender reveals (to me this should be private and cherished).

Other peoples newsfeed when they have liked/commented on their friends statuses (I don’t know their friends so why should I have it on my wall and why can’t I stop it?)

Numerous statuses that tell me that I’m only a good friend if this or that.

More statuses that tell me if I love my son I’ll share this poster. (Sorry boys, seems I don’t love you after all!)

See photos of things that are more of an exposure than a sharing of a subject.

Random posts, not by liked pages that tell me why my business is failing. (Though I’m not sure how they’d know if I’m failing or succeeding).

Random blog posts how to be a better parent. (If I want parenting advice I’d rather search for it, I think I’ve done a pretty darn good job with my four, if I do say myself) and no, I’m not ‘friends’ or subscribed to the poster either.

I’m told if I have an opinion that can be aimed at someone else, I am emotionally messed up. (Nope it just shows my immaturity and desire to get attention).

BUT, on the plus side, there are some posts that I love, love, love to read:

Seeing your kids have a happy/silly moment makes my heart warm, you are showing me you value them.

Sharing a photo of your homemade meal or a welcomed take out, I see something you are proud of and an inadvertent invitation for dinner at yours 😉 lol

Statuses that tell me you are enjoying a glass of wine in your garden, you are sharing that you take time for you and can just ‘be’.

Inspiring quotes get me all the time because they feed my inner desire to be a better person but I also read it as the poster wishing to project that inspiration on others.

Ranting. Ok it’s not ideal to stick it on Facebook, I’ve done it myself and regretted it but sometimes we need input whether its reinforcement, encouragement or something else. Go for it, get it out because then you can readjust and move on. We are all a work in progress.

Statuses that tell me a generic message that is obviously a hit out at someone else. You show me you are not the person I originally thought you were, therefore I will steer clear of any future hiccups. Oops, should that have been on the top list?!?!

One thing I regained whilst I was away from the internet/Facebook was to reconnect with myself. I learned to let my heart guide me better and for the first time in a long time, it felt great to feel like me. The real me, not the protected one I'd come to be.
One thing I regained whilst I was away from the internet/Facebook was to reconnect with myself. I learned to let my heart guide me better and for the first time in a long time, it felt great to feel like me. The real me, not the protected one I’d come to be.

Personally I don’t like to put too much personal stuff on Facebook, writing things for a status often means I can’t put myself across how I’d like to and therefore it comes across wrong, so I try to avoid it. Plus, I like my life to be lived, not bragged/advertised. Sorry if that sounds judgemental, it’s the best I can come up with just now. Strangely though, I don’t mind blogging about some personal stuff but I find that is because I can explain and share a little better. I just wish I had more inspiration to blog more often! 😉

Sometimes I want to share something that has made me giggle or touched my heart, but then I stop and ask myself if it holds any of three factors:

Is it positive

Is it real

Is it useful

Then I realise I’m probably taking Facebook far too seriously. So I don’t post it.

I am also one of those people who like to keep a record of things so having the option to save my FB wall means I can (but often don’t) record timeline events that are relevant to me (I wish they came with a private option) so every now and again I can download it all and record it with my Life Story of Me journal.

Then the cycle begins again because I’m not contributing towards a positive run on my Facebook account!

What’s that word?