“And Mom and Dad are the ones you can blame”

“And Mom and Dad are the ones you can blame”*

At what point do you stop trying for approval?

Me and my mother have never really seen eye to eye. We see each other fairly regularly and when we do I’m civil. But it’s not a traditional mother/daughter relationship, not really.

We don’t tell each other about everything in our lives, in fact she’s often the last person that springs to mind when I’m upset or have news. I never call her just to chat, the thought of spending time alone with her generally makes me feel uneasy and overly anxious.

She’s an advocate of ‘tough love’ she’s not one to hand out affection either physically or verbally. I’m very tactile and feel if you don’t convey feelings to people then how will they ever know?

I’m very independent and hardly ever turn to others for anything. She likes to be the hero, to be able to solve everything for everyone.

Long story short: we clash.

I know it’s cliche and I’m not trying to blame anything on her. We are very different people – different personalities, views, beliefs, tastes and styles. 

Sometimes I feel down about our lack of relationship, particularly when I see her with my siblings. Weirdly, I don’t feel jealous, it’s more a sadness because I know we will never have that and in some ways I feel like we should.

More recently the sadness is being tinged with anger and frustration.

My entire adult life I’ve lived under her scrutiny and criticism. Although I’m not a people pleaser by nature, I’ve always tried in small ways to have an influence, to help my mother accept me. I love her and I don’t doubt that she loves me, she just struggles with who I am. I’m like no one else in her world, she finds me extreme, my beliefs are laughable to her and my views are always ‘wrong’.

But recently, it’s growing a little thin. My efforts are thrown back in my face and she makes no attempt to improve out relationship. 

Maybe she’s happy with it… though if her attitude towards me and my life is any kind of indicator then it’s impossible to see how she could be.

Maybe she sees me as a lost cause, not worth the effort to repair or enhance. In some ways I can’t blame her if she does, I’m starting to lean that way myself.

I don’t know if I have the energy to repair this. I don’t know if I want to. 

I don’t want to be just another anxious depressive with ‘mummy issues’ it just seems like another cliche. That’s all I am, just one big walking cliche that my mother had the misfortune to birth.


*”Homecoming” Green Day… thank you for the words.


“You only live forever in the lights you make”

“You only live forever in the lights you make”*

Another 365 days have rolled around.

It’s that time of year again.

I’m not sure I have much more to add to my post from last year  – Keep Running – but I can’t let the day pass without mentioning it.

Another year and I’m still a fangirl.

Another year and I still love my fandom.

Another year and I still miss My Chemical Romance.

It’s always a hard day for me and today will be no different.

The difference they made to the lives of people of my generation and beyond is immeasurable. The impact they had on music and culture continues to ripple through to this day.

Most of us will be sad today, most of us will cry. Some will beg for a reunion, some will ask them once again why. A few will get angry, a few will take it out on the guys. 

It’s not their fault. It’s no ones fault.

Just like I said last year, MCR will always continue within us all. We carry the memories and the feelings, we sing the words and keep the faith.

Killjoys never die.

RGW xx

“The Kids From Yesterday” My Chemical Romance… thank you for the words.

“But girls love girls and boys, and love is not a choice”

“But girls love girls and boys, and love is not a choice”*

Why is the world so full of prejudice? Why are people so ready to tear others apart for no good reason?

I’m sick of people assuming things about me. Most recently I’m tired of people making assumptions about my sexuality based on my gender and the gender of my current partner.

It honestly scares me that the world is so black and white to some people. And that any variation to their rigid world is a reason to be disgusted or to attack a fellow human being.

Imagine if some of these people in my life knew anything about me other than the shiny, false veneer I present every day? What if they knew the truth about my mental health? My sexuality? My inner most thoughts and feelings? 

Judgement is a terrible human trait.

RGW xx

*”Girls/Girls/Boys” Panic! At The Disco… thank you for the words.

“Make them dance like we were shooting their feet”

“Make them dance like we were shooting their feet”*

I’ve done something I swore I would never do when I started this blog – I’ve reused a song, one I’ve already quoted referenced again for this blog post title.

It was important to me that each post used a different song because each post is unique. But this post links back to a previous one, this one – ‘It’s just past eight and I’m feeling young and reckless, the ribbon on my wrist says ‘do not open before Christmas’

If you didn’t read it at the time then a brief outline is that I had to change, make a change. And the deadline was Christmas.

I’m sure you can guess what’s coming next.

I didn’t make it.

Christmas has come and gone, ironically like the change. I almost made it. In fact, you could probably argue that I did, if we are using a factual definition. It just failed to remain. 

It didn’t remain and so by my own self assessment, I failed. If the change reverts back before the deadline then that’s a fail. The change might as well have never happened at all.

But I’m not sure I can be blamed fully. It wasn’t all in my control. I did my very best, everything I could possibly do to change. In the end, the failure to remain was out of my control. It wasn’t my choice and it wasn’t what I wanted. And I have to accept that I couldn’t stop it.

The title kinda sums this up for me and it’s just so delicious that it came from the same song. That idea of the old gun slinging Western ‘make ’em dance!’ with the poor victims dodging bullets and looking like the world’s worst can can line. I’m under someone else’s control; dancing to their tune, dodging their bullets. I might look like I’m having a good time, that I’m having fun and choosing to dance. But I’m not, I’m being made to by forces outside of my control in the most dangerous way. And being taunted and mocked every step of the way.

So where does that leave me? Heading into a new year with failed goals and a vast lack of control over the most important aspect of my life…

Keep dancing, I guess.


*”Our Lawyers Made Us Change The Name Of This Song So We Wouldn’t Get Sued” Fall Out Boy… thank you for the words.

“Baby, when they knock you, down and out, is where you oughta stay”

“Baby, when they knock you, down and out, is where you oughta stay”*

Almost a year ago now I lost something, or gave it away… or gave up on it/it gave up on me- can’t say I’m sure what the correct term would be. 

Anyway, it was gone. End of. No thanks, enough for me now. Lost it all. No more… starting to feel like John Cleese in the Dead Parrot sketch. 

But I digress.

Point was I had then I didn’t.

But recently I got it back.

Did I claim it back or did it come back to me? It was most certainly a planned and conscious act. Again, I’m unsure of the terminology but I’m sure you get the picture.

So I got it back. Something I’ve been without, something I’ve missed. It was mine again.

You know what I realised?

I don’t even fucking want it.

I thought I missed it, in fact I’m sure I did. But having it again made me realise that, in reality, I don’t want it. More than that, I don’t need it.

It means nothing to me. I’m gonna get rid of it, lose it again, see if it will walk away from me once more. I know I need to be free of it. It adds absolutely nothing to my life. Nothing except a faint sense of misery and misplaced obligation.

It’s strange because previously it was something so important to me, a huge part of my everyday life. At first I wasn’t sure how I would cope without it, it was gone and I grieved. I never realised that along with grief eventually came acceptance. I didn’t realise I’d learnt to cope without it until I suddenly had it back again.

To quote the song that lent a line to the title of this post “I don’t love you like I loved you yesterday” In fact I recommend listening to the whole song and watching the video if you’ve never seen or heard it.

 I Don’t Love You by My Chemical Romance

Amazingly powerful, huh?

If you follow my blog with any regularity (doubtful, I know) then you might be able to piece together the mystery here, you might know what I’ve lost and what I’ve found and what I no longer need and have once again dispensed with… tiring isn’t it?

This is the last time.

I don’t want it.

I don’t need it.

I’m done with it.

RGW xx

*”I Don’t Love You” My Chemical Romance… thank you for the words.

“But I want it and I need it”

“But I want it and I need it”*

It’s a curse – my addictive personality.

Once I find a vague interest in something I find hard, sometimes impossible, to stop myself becoming obsessed in it.

It’s devouring.

It’s all consuming.

I’ve kicked addictions before; life controlling habits, behaviours, substances. Sober for almost a year (if we ignore the very minor relapse the other week) alcohol was never a real addiction but it was on the verge. Sometimes I wonder how I would function if I didn’t have an addiction in my life. Of course there are short periods where I’m free of the compulsions but I always find something new.
My addictions aren’t always traditional, the subject of my addiction isn’t always damaging in terms of the abstract sense of what it is. For example, it could be an addiction to the colour red. Red, in itself, isn’t going to cause me to over dose, having too much colour red isn’t going damage my body on its own like alcohol or tobacco would. 

It’s the behaviours around it that can cause the problems.

One day I just notice how pretty the color red is, that I haven’t got enough red things, the colour makes me smile. But it grows. Within a week I’m having to wear at least one item of red clothing every day – I can’t explain the fear that comes from not having something red to wear. It manifests in all ways – I choose to eat red food, get drawn to shops that have red in their logos or window displays, refuse lifts from friends and choose to walk two miles home because their car isn’t red. There was a time when every room in our house was painted red (thanks, mania)

I don’t mean to let it own me, control me. In some ways I can’t help it. Sometimes I can see the addiction swallowing me and I’m powerless to stop it. Sometimes I don’t know, don’t see it, until I’m so far into it that I can’t hide from it anymore.

It’s dangerous and it’s terrifying.

And it’s got me again. Right now I’m subcumming to addiction. I can see it, I know it… can’t stop it.

It’s not a physically dangerous addiction, emotionally I can already sense it’s going to tear me apart. It’s already dragging me away from ‘normal’ life, I’m choosing it over friends and family. I don’t know why it’s so important, why it’s started to overpower my every thought. But it is. I know that.

To be perfectly honest, as much as I can see it’s going to fuck me over, I’m too weak to stop it. I’m not convinced I want to stop it. 

Not yet, just one more, eh?


*”Addicted” Simple Plan… thank you for the words