When Your Brain Says You Failed, Part 2,

 I meant to post the first part of this just after returning home on weekend one of Camp NaNoWriMo but then I didn't because there was a feeling of my whole world falling down and I wasn't sure I was actually going to be doing any writing what so ever. In my life, there are a pair of Shih Tzus, Teddy, who has been around for what feels like just short of forever, even if it is only five years, and Chai, who arrived just last year (with me, though she is nearly six years old). The idea of them not being together for playdates or for when my parents are away or I'm away (they swap houses so they're with whoever is around) is unthinkable, but the worst, or one of the worst things, imaginable happened and when Teddy went into surgery for the removal of two lumps that we thought were giving him problems pooping, we found out they were cancerous. 

In a way, it's a good thing that they were where they were. He has had lumps since the day we got him because he has these cysts on his skin that fill to a point and then, essentially, burst everywhere and are a bit bloody, a bit chalky, but ultimately no harm at all. Anywhere else on his body lumps would not bother him at all, and we and his vets would just assume that they were more of the same and leave them be. It was only because we were not sure if that was creating some bum related issues that we decided to go for them being excised, and then the pathology on them was a huge shock. 

Having had the shock of it's cancer, we were pretty relieved to know that the lumps were gone which meant the tumours were gone, but that was short-lived as the vet told us it was a nasty and aggressive tumour, and it's location would make it very tricky if it came back because removing tissue on what is essentially his buttock can affect the motor function of the back legs and the tail as well as continence, particularly for his bum. None of us wants to lose him, but doggy diapers aren't the sort of thing that is conducive to a good life for a dog. The only option we really had was for him to go back into surgery, to have the margins on the tumour widened from almost nothing to as much as they could (although with this sort of tumour it's supposed to be an inch either way and that was simply not possible) in the hopes that it would prevent the regrowth of cancer and give him his best chance to be happy, healthy and cancer-free. 

Before he went in for surgery, I wanted the pups to spend time together and honestly, I wanted to spend some time with him, too. He's been my baby since we got him, not as much as he is my mum's baby, but he's my baby, too, and he's considered an older dog now, since he's eight, and older dogs and anaesthetic isn't something you mix for fun. I was concerned about the anaesthetic but also concerned about what happens if the surgery doesn't cure him? What happens if we have weeks of recovery only to find out he's not fully recovered and he won't be? I wanted to get in some good days with him in case they were Chai's and my last good days with him, so that had to be before surgery, and then when he had surgery I knew my mum was going to need some help in nursing him back to health, so I decided to just move - temporarily - back to my mum's. 

Generally, being back at my mum's is really good for me writing because my mum takes her mum-ing seriously. She does all of the cooking, she cleans, she does the laundry and she even makes me regular brews when I'm working so that I can just keep cracking on. I guess what I'm saying is I'm massively spoiled when I'm here. This time though, with worrying about Teddy, caring for Teddy and the lack of sleep and general tiredness affecting the whole house, I've been skipping more days than I have been writing, because it's just not happening easily, and I don't have it in me at the moment to grind through writing a few hundred words a day without a particular reason to. 

Caring for Teddy is meaning carrying him up and downstairs at the beginning and end of the day (he's also spoilt and sleeps on the bed), picking him up to put him outside for toilets and picking him up to get him back in, cleaning his wound regularly (especially when he's been sat on it outside with no concept of the kind of germies he could pick up out there!), giving him his medication, of which there is quite a lot!, and also trying to stop him from getting stressed out. It was a big operation and a lot of trauma for the poor guy, and he's still not really come to terms with what happened. He keeps whipping his head around trying to look at it, and probably bite it, but he has a big inflatable collar on so he can't get to it to bite or lick it, and he can't see it either, and even if he could, there is no way for him to understand what it is and why we have done it to him. He cried a lot the day we brought him home (and so did we if we're being honest) but being at home seems to have settled him and he's been to a wound check with the vet where they said he was doing well.  Whilst things are looking up for him, it does mean that during this Camp NaNo, I haven't dropped everything to just get some writing done, I haven't been trying to plough through and finish in a couple of days and honestly, it's made me realise again that Camp does not have the same sort of effect on me that November NaNoWriMo does. And that is fine because I can plan for November being super busy with NaNo, but letting it take over three months of my life just doesn't work. 

The upshot is I'm writing when I can, but that's not much at the moment, because the doggies come first. 

When Your Brain Says You Failed,

 Once upon a time there was a Camp NaNoWriMo that started when a Charlie who Writes was actually on camp. The unfortunate thing about that was that there was no way I was ever going to start writing, because I had too much to do with the kids, supervising them and doing things for them, as well as a complete lack of internet access, well, other than on my phone, but I can't operate 4thewords from my phone, so no writing was going to get done over that weekend. I've not been back for very long, but I feel like my brain has been screaming, especially when all I have been doing is sleeping off the tiredness, telling me that there is a NaNo event going on and I'm failing. I don't like failing at all, so it is hard to hear even when it's only in my own head, that there is something I am failing at. 

Writing is the sort of thing that I love to do, have pretty much always loved to do, but also feel very guilty when I don't give it the time that I think I owe it. It's stupid because it's a sort of self-care thing I do for myself and it's not a feeling guilty because I'm not taking care of myself, but feeling guilt as though it's a task that I need to do and that means that I start feeling pretty pressured about it. 

The difficulty at the moment is finding the time to do anything. I am working and Scouting, driving, running to the store for the things I need, looking after the dog and trying to keep the house in order. The last one of those hasn't really been getting off of the ground at all, so trying to get away from the guilt of that to write has effectively been a lost cause. However, it's NaNo and I can't get through a NaNo without doing any writing whatsoever, so hopefully this is the turning point. Not that I know what I am writing at the moment, but I never really get that figured out before I start, do I?

Don't Seal Up Just Yet,

  Yes, the title for this is a random quote from my favourite movie and no I will not apologise for that. 

This weekend was my 29th birthday and to say that the actual day itself was rubbish would be an understatement. I had said that I was going to go for a run at ParkRun in the morning but the truth is that months of having been on the bench, for no real reason, I realised I wasn't really up to a 5k and definitely not at the speed that the local run is. Really, I wanted to be back in London. I wanted to be with my friends at the park that I love and spending the run with them and then maybe going for a parkrun cake afterwards since you basically run off all the calories first (I mean, you really don't, but let's not even think about that). 

We cancelled a half planned family lunch thing because one of the dogs is feeling out of sorts after a vet trip, but it was fine because I was going to be going out for a few drinks with a mate in the afternoon, so in theory, I had more time to get ready, but then when I text him to check what time we were meeting up and where he cancelled on me after some confusion over dates or something. I wasn't so much gutted that the plans I had had gone down the drain, but more because I then had no birthday plans at all, and that kind of last-minute meant that all of my friends were then busy so trying to figure out any other form of plans was impossible, so I spent the evening on the sofa with the dog that's not feeling rubbish. 

Thankfully today was considerably better, spending it with a friend and their child, who is the best thing since sliced bread. 

One of the reasons it made me feel awful is because I've been feeling lonely recently. There is some relief to that when I catch up with people at work or when I speak to a few friends on Twitter or catch up with a few other friends, but trying to date makes me feel even lonelier than ever. Partly because I get chatting to someone and as soon as we come off of the app we began speaking on, something always happens that makes me get the ick, generally before even meeting up with them, though I have managed to meet a couple and then realised that it's still a giant no. Maybe I'm too picky, but I don't think I am. Besides, the occasions where I've decided to break my own 'rules' haven't exactly turned out any better than when I stick to them absolutely. And it's not like there are no reasons for them and most of those reasons stem from previous bad experiences. 

Anyway, things are feeling better today, though to be honest, I couldn't have felt any worse than I did yesterday, so I am glad that things are looking up. And finishing the day with another viewing of Man Up is always sure to make me feel happy. Ish. 

What Money Means,

   I don't want to write this and sound like a parrot or make anyone think that I think I'm Martin Lewis or anything because I definitely do not, but holy hell on toast, it feels like the world has gone completely mad. 

My mum told me when you buy a house you never have money again, and honestly, I haven't really felt that at all since buying my place six months ago. I've done a few jobs that needed doing, though not as much as I have wanted to which might be the reason I haven't really felt "the pinch" of homeownership. 

I'm pretty spoilt (well, no, privileged but I hate that word) because I have a decent job, I recently found out I was retaining an allowance I got for being in London and I've been helped by family to afford learning to drive, but as these changes to bills have been coming around, as all the bills seem to be increasing!!, I've been making massive financial commitments like buying a car and paying out for my insurance. I would be really naive if I said it wasn't affecting me. 

Okay, so I'm not saying it's affecting me how it's affecting others. Obviously, it is not. I do look over at the smart meter before I throw the heating on and I live in my hoodies with two-plus layers of clothing underneath, but that's not because I'm having to be conscious of what I spend so that I know I have enough money to eat for the rest of the month or have the money to feed my dog, but because I'm trying to be more conscious of what I spend on energy. I find that the kind of meter I was left with by the previous owners of the house makes me struggle to really understand what my energy bills look like, but I have been really struggling with anything that feels like life admin recently, so changing over to monthly bills is something I'm going to look at, but only when I feel well enough to do that, but also only when the weather warms up and I don't need to use the heating every day. 

The impact it is having on me is anxiety. I have a formal diagnosis of Generalised Anxiety Disorder and when it is bad like it has been recently, it permeates into everything and everything triggers it. Being worried about money means I bulk buy dog food even though I have nowhere really to store it properly. Being anxious means I struggle with food, because I'm too anxious to spend time planning and cooking, but also what I can happily eat changes because a lot of things make me want to be sick. Sometimes it's even before I actually eat though - the thing that I've made gives me the ick and trying to convince myself to eat it is almost pointless. 

Whilst it's completely right that there is a lot of discussion about the impacts that these increases are going to have and are already having on the poorest in our society, there are impacts across a larger section of society. I'm sitting here thinking I need to pull the motivation to apply for and get a promotion out of nowhere or I need to get myself a decent side hustle going, but I know there's a lot of people in that sort of position, and a lot that are working themselves into the ground with nothing more to give, and they're still not getting by. 

It's all just a bloody mess. 

Title Was Longer Than I Wanted It To Be,

 I was going to name this blog post "Today I Made Some Decisions That I Would Make Again, Despite The Outcome Not Being What I Wanted It To Be." 

Since moving back to Manchester, whether we are classing that as two years ago or six months ago when I bought this house, I've been trying to reconnect with friends I haven't seen for a long time, and people I haven't spoken to in a long time as well. 

Despite the fact that plans went awry today, I don't regret making the plans I made to meet up with one of my friends. I don't regret that, in order to get a lie-in, and have more time to spend getting ready, I decided I was going to take an Uber to get there, despite the fact that the cost was something like three times what it would have cost on public transport.

The thing is, I was investing my money and my time into myself just as much as someone else. It was good for me to get out to a place I knew and hopefully with someone different. I spent today feeling safe outside of my home and outside of the environment I've spent the last two years in, but whilst my mum did need to come to the rescue so that I didn't need to get an Uber home or face a 35-minute walk and then two buses with an anxious dog, she did better than I imagined that she would have done. 

My dog spent today saying hi to more people than she normally does and not freaking out when the other doggies barked. She sat on my knee in the Uber and was so brave. I am so thrilled that she's as brave as she is. 

Then later on in the day, I learned that I woke up this morning to a world without a friend of mine, and I honestly can't say that I can put my finger on how I feel right now about that. Yes, I'm sad, I'm devastated really, and I'm angry because it shouldn't have come to this, but other than that, I'm still in a stage of utter disbelief. But knowing he's not here makes me even more glad that, even though I didn't get to spend the time with the friend I was trying to spend time with today, I put in the effort, because my friend knows I put in that effort, and he knows we need to try again to meet up, and losing one friend makes me realise even more how much I need to hold onto the others. We all need to hold onto each other. 

Happy New Year (Oh, Here We Go Again),

  I honestly thought that when I took the time to sit and count up the number of blog posts I wrote in 2021 the number was going to be smaller than 14. I had thought I had basically taken almost the whole year away from writing, but it would appear not. A lot of it was about running, a bit about dogs (standard practice for me, of course) and a couple were mentioning the new house. 

2021 was a good year for some things because it was the year I met my fur baby and fell truly in love with the girl, even though she weed on my carpets a lot. It was the year I found and bought my first house and started to realise how damn expensive getting everything I wanted done to it would be, though that's also been exciting because getting stuff done to the house just is exciting. It's also the year that I went back to Scouting and that has been an utter gift, even if at times I have wondered what on Earth, what manner of lunacy, made me think I wanted to work with kids, even if it is just for a few hours a week. It has been the thing which has got me out of the house, got me teaching and got me learning as well as socialising with the kids, the other adults, parents and just a whole other community that I feel really lucky to be a part of. 

Obviously, in other ways, 2021 sucked. Whilst COVID wasn't in as much control of our lives as it was in 2020, it was still hanging around like a foul smell and it has been sewing seeds of discord between friends, families and communities, with arguments over testing, masks, vaccines and who broke the lockdown rules however many months ago. We never really got back to the point where we could meet with other people freely and easily in the long anticipated return to normalcy, and that was bloody hard. As a family, we lost my granddad and at the funeral promised that we would meet again as a family as soon as we could. We'd lost one cousin (well, second cousin for me) before we lost my granddad, and then before we could plan the get-together we were all waiting on, we lost another cousin, and a smattering of other relatives and friends, and then we lost Akela. 

Obviously, there is no point trying to quantify all of those things and figure out if, on balance, the scales tipped in favour of 2021 being a good or bad year. There were points where it was amazing, there were points where it was terrible and there were others where it was awfully middle ground, and most of it is from these external events that are kind of beyond anyone's control. If it comes out as a good year, what does that mean? Does it mean I can sit and rest easy this year because last year was good? Obviously not. If it turns out it was to be considered a bad year, does that mean I have to 'try harder' this year to make good things happen? How do you even do that? I spend my life running around in a tizzy, always doing something, forever busying myself with something and it is utterly exhausting. I have started giving myself some time to relax and have a break as well, but if I'm supposed to be 'trying harder' what more can I do? Honestly, not a whole hell of a lot without splitting myself down the middle. 

I'm going into this new year feeling hopeful for a lot of things - driving, relationships, camping, all that sort of thing, but I'm also trying to be cautious to not overhype the things I'm hoping for in case this virus means some of them or all of them don't happen. So I'm not doing resolutions, I'm not going to get overly anxious about the run that's coming up at the end of the year - though I am going back to training for it in the next few days - I'm making no goals about my weight because if I stay chubby, I stay chubby, and I'm not going to make any real goals about what I want my career to look like in the next few months, because more than anything, I just want to be able to breath, get through each day and keep putting one foot in front of the other. Things will come together (or they won't) and this year I'm just going to try and let that happen without getting super wrung out over it. 

Chai Pants

It's been a while since I published anything on here even though I have been writing. I feel like the pandemic and the lack of social interaction has made me more easily confused than I was before, I go on a lot more tangents and I can't focus or follow a point as easily anymore. In fact, I find it really hard sometimes. It is almost like the way I feel after taking Diazepam but without the calmness, which is awful. I feel like I have lost a lot of confidence in my writing because of that, but I am trying to get myself back to something that looks like 'normal' or at least, normal for me. 

Since being off of this I did something I have been wanting to do for a very long time. I finally got my dog. She is a bit of a funny looking spaniel, because she's actually a shih tzu. When it came to it, my garden wasn't right for a spaniel. I had to look at getting a smaller dog who couldn't hop the fences with a short bound, and it just so happened that at the time that I was looking for a dog, my little girl was looking for a new home. 

She came from a breeding farm, peed all over the carpets and crawled her way into my heart when I wasn't looking, but she's wonderful - except when she is barking at three o'clock in the morning, at which point, she's a lot less cute. She petrified of everything, but getting braver, meeting the family and starting to have a life that doesn't involved producing and looking after puppies, and I couldn't want any more for her.