41. It’s been an advantage to share troubles.

I am blessed with friends, honest friends. They know me, know him, support both and see no need to ‘takes sides’. Still, they’re not afraid of an opinion. That’s probably why they are friends. All the opinions vary, some overlap, some are frank, some more softened. All go into the pot where lives my constant stirring thoughts.

Because I can’t answer the questions that many ask. The ‘why?’s, the ‘would you?’s, the ‘do you think’s. Can’t and won’t answer. Certainly not yet. I am still very much in the moment. The actions I am taking are for now, for the things I need to control and manage, to keep everything within arms length and very much in sight. The future is a thing over there. I’m not afraid of it. But I’m just not looking at it at the moment.

Friends have shit of their own going on, all of them. So not only is it good to be able to help, shift the focus off me. But it’s a very healthy reminder that anything I’m going through counts for no more than a dot on the landscape of the whole picture. And it feels good to remember that. It’s been an advantage to share troubles, not a burden, because that sharing comes right back. I’ve needed physical and emotional hugs and I’ve given them straight back. It’s not so much a trouble shared is a trouble halved, but the sharing in all directions, makes me feel like I’m not alone. And I know I’m not.

 

37. I miss the feeling of being supported.

It is true, I have been watching rather a lot of telly lately. At least I can watch what I choose, not fear of judgement, tutting or one of those ‘watching this crap again’ looks. In my defence it’s cold out, I’m tired, and quite frankly I don’t care. Today is not a great day.

I watched Call the Midwife this evening – one had been recorded so I thought I would. tales of Suffragettes and standing for council, and a husband apologising for not being supportive, and then telling his wife how proud he was of her. It’s funny what can set me off being upset.

Last year – my, what a year – I stood in my local elections. Didn’t win, was quite the outsider, but I did really well. Far better that I’d ever thought. And He had told me how proud he was of me. I spoke in hustings and on panels. I pushed hard against my comfort zone. And I did it all with his support. I had him behind me to lean against when I needed it.

And now I have to learn to be my own support, and it sucks.

I miss the comfort of a hug when you’re feeling low, of a cup of tea brought in when you didn’t know you fancied one. I miss having someone to rest my legs on when I’m sitting on the sofa. I miss the feeling of being supported.

I am, I have said before, privileged to have wonderful, kind, ‘there for me’ friends. Their support and help and kindness has meant everything, and has made certain dark and miserable times much lighter and cheerier. There will, I don’t doubt, come a time when the things I miss are replaced by different joys and positives. I know these moments, when the things that have now gone are leaving big holes in their place, won’t keep being so painful.

It’s just that some times you feel there’s nothing behind you but the back of the sofa.