Sad days and dizziness

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Those ghastly bouts of anxious dizziness returned last week. Is it any wonder with unintelligible data at work and unfathomable propaganda and bigotry spreading through the damned nation. This isn’t the first time that my colleagues and I have experienced the frustration of purdah. It sounds like something glamorous and clandestine but its just muzzling us from having an outward opinion about political goings on. So no liking my friends Facebook posts then. Curses.

I won’t bore you with how disappointed and aggrieved I am with the decision that the ‘good’ people of Britain have made…because you can read it from one of the other millions of others telling the same story up and down the Isles. My conclusion, however, is this: Democracy is not democratic when votes are obtained by deception. I would vote for free unicorns for all and a guaranteed government funded chocolate cake every day but I have the intelligence to realise how unlikely those things are to be real, and that slaughtering all of our cows to make way for those unicorns is almost certainly a terrible idea. I know cows aren’t the most exciting animals and they cost a lot more than unicorns to feed, but they are also less prone to disappearing in thin air. Ah. Has the Penny dropped yet? (because the pound certainly has).

It’s kind of fascinating that the most well educated and financially-orientated areas voted one way….it’s almost like we could see what might happen…but it isn’t black magic guys…it’s just common sense, something woefully lacking in a vast swathe of the commoners.

I can only hope that those vertiginous shaky spells of mine were in no way prophetic…the same goes for the biblical hailstorm we had today.

My therapist says I need to be more positive and worry less…these are testing times.

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I didn’t think Poland was too bad until I got cream in my juice and anchovies instead of artichoke

As you might guess, I’m in Poland.

Right now I’m not ecstatic to be here.

Upon arrival everything seemed fine. Flight, train and taxi stuff was fine, hotel is nice, I met up with some people. Then I lost my cardigan somewhere and we went to a dinner with host lab members that I was expecting to be tomorrow, but nevermind. I thought it would be fine as I’d breezed through the whole traveling bit without any panic or even strong anxiety, I was a-ok.

At the restarant (feeling a bit chilly from my absentee cardigan) I decided to tell people that I don’t drink alcohol so I wouldn’t get pressured to drink, and picked a ‘fruit cocktail’ which from the name,I understood would be fruit blended together….but what arrived was about 50% cream. I can’t digest lactose, so after a couple of tastes I decided I’d have to get another drink but as I wasn’t paying I felt guilty, so just had water….

Time to order food then, so i picked a pizza and listed off my four chosen toppings: spinach, black olives, pines nuts and artichoke.

Fab.

Then the food arrives but this wasn’t any kind of artichoke ive ever seen…I mean, it looked fishy…so I enquired and yes it was anchovies…..so I politely said that I has asked for artichoke not anchovy (I’d even pointed to the word on the menu) ane the waitress just looked at me and and said ‘is that a problem?’ so I had to say, yes dear, yes it is…I am vegetarian, I don’t eat fish!

So grumpy faced off she went to fetch me a replacement…it turned up quite quickly and I had a quick scan and no, they hadn’t just taken off the fish and added artichoke because this one didn’t have pine nuts…OK close enough. It tasted fine even though it probably had someone’s spit in it. The problem was then that I’d got hungry waiting and was shivering, and making terrible conversation through my pained expressions of embarrassment and anxiety.

The afternoon started off so peacefully and degenerated into something monsterous thats going to give me a belly ache.

Wish me luck. I have to navigate breakfast without any surprise lactose or meat products and then give a presentation to an unknown sized crowd tomorrow (n>10) without meltdown. Maybe forgoing valium was a bad idea.

Sigh. Challenging anxieties isn’t always triumphant is it? :S

A pale Iris sky

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I breathe in the profound chill of seeing a lunar cycle behind your eyes.
The rise and fall of expectation hidden in the craters.
We used to bathe in Diana’s silvery light, but now our backdrop is sickly cerulean blue.
Each pulse of dilation seems to drink in the strength, leaving only disproportionate waning, in ever-diminishing orbits.
Where once the gravity of our entwined existence kept us giddily and circling, now it pulls us only to the ground.

I’m still searching in your eyes in hope of a new moon, but are you already seeking out something new?

© PickledSparklyMoosePrincess – author

more poems

Disenchanted dream

I had a dream that you were hiding behind my father’s face.
A steady stream of disappointment in spite of my striving,
Issuing from that angry mouth.

So I ran for the trees.
Barefoot, tearful but free.
My cream sequinned gown catching on the low hanging branches,
The chill creeping into my bones
and yet,
I would not look back.

A little girl came running after,
Sent to bring me home,
Or suffer the guilt of her abandon.
Yet I ushered her away,
And sat down to watch the sunrise
Of a new day.

© PickledSparklyMoosePrincess – author

Fevers and Dust

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I have, at times been my biggest disappointment,
Expecting the superhuman, inside and out,
But finding the dregs of a lacklustre animal,
Rolling their eyes and then rolling on over.

I guess I rolled over for you too.

The fires were bright for some time,
Burning out the rot,
And the stars inside and out,
Almost aligned,
So that I was almost content with who I’d grown to be.

And there was always you, holding my hand.

I don’t know when the cleansing fires burned out,
And the mildew enveloped me once more.
An organic tide change when it all started
To come apart.

But you thought I chose it.

That content so sought was buried,
The assurance drowned in the night,
And nothing but fevers and dust,
Could live up to expectations.

Not yours, and not mine.

Am I your biggest disappointment,
Your one big regret?
Am I nothing but a constant reminder,
That you are tethered to something so frayed?

This dust just won’t settle.

And unless your words are sent to crush me,
And keep me in the shadows,
Then why don’t you accept my failures?
Please help me mould them into something new.

And If you won’t,
Or if you can’t , then who am I
To trap you
In this perpetual monumental disappointment?

I know I will never be enough

Expectations and consequence

Expectations are strange. Different aspects of our lives have different expectations of us and yet, we are magically presumed to be capable of fulfilling all even mutually exclusive or contradictory roles.

As a general rule, I try not to have expectations of Individuals. I reserve it for organizations and non-sentient objects. In such a manner, I am released from daily disappointment when people do not meet what I might consider the correct  or proper level of behaviour that I hope for. Instead, if they do graduate into an admirable level of whatever the are doing, then I am pleased, rather than placated. So when I’m faced with a question like “what do you expect me to do?” I’m kind of stumped, I expect them to decide for themselves and live with the the consequences. I’m not here to judge, only be witness and be a fellow human scrabbling in the dirt of existence. I have no right to set up expectations for you, or me, or anyone else. I can hope and dream and wish, but not expect.

It is uncomfortable bobbing around in an ocean of other people’s disappointment in me, being subjected to criticism, scorn or discipline . It’s not like I am not sorry, I am. I’m sorry that others have to swallow the bitter pills of dissatisfaction and disappointment because I fail to meet their expectations. I’m sorry for them that I’m not the person they want me to be and occasionally I’m genuinely remorseful because despite my rejection of expectations, I am on occasion disappointed in myself too.

Even in my slightly altered state, stepping aside from societal judgement, I can’t quell all expectations. I have basic needs that I expect be fulfilled:

To be addressed and treated in a civil manner
To be allowed freedom of thought and speech
To be respected as a human being
To be forgiven for my mistakes.

Even so, I get disappointed. I’m disappointed when I’m spoken to like a piece of dirt, when I’m made to relive my mistakes over and over, never forgiven or forgotten. I’m disappointed when I’m told that I am wrong because I feel, think, say or believe something different. Everything we think we know is only measured with reference to some other arbitrary thing.
There are no absolutes here.
No right.
No wrong.
No up or down.
So though I don’t expect to stop being told how selfish I am, I would appreciate if at least someone cared that it hurts.

So you don’t think I appreciate or work or understand the consequences? Do you know the consequences of your own words?

“consequence is a bigger word than you think “~incubus, consequence