I’m a bit calmer than I was last week and I have managed to carve out some time for myself to enjoy my creative pursuits. Which always puts me in a better frame of mind because it makes me feel like I have actually achieved something. I have struggled since being ill-health retired to feel that I make a valuable contribution to society. People always ask “what do you do for work?” or “D why Io you work?” and it is a real conversation stopper when you have to say “no I have been ill-health retired since 2008”. My disability is pretty much invisible or not well understood by others, so even when I rock up in my mobility scooter or wheelchair people don’t understand why I would need to use these.

I have in the past had family members that don’t get the fact that I am in pain every day and that is all I have ever known. I don’t tend to say much about it because well quite frankly talking about it bores me, so if it bores me what does it do for the other people? I am quite private which seems weird when I write a blog every week. There are very few people I am 100% honest with when I talk about how I am feeling at any given time. I learned from an early age that complaining about pain meant you weren’t believed or were accused of being a hypochondriac and that was by people who should have known better as their job was to nurture and protect me. Plus as I grew up I made the mistake of being honest with people when I was in pain and it was used against me and I was told I was draining to be around. I know now that the woman I was dealing with, who was also my boss was a sociopath and completely incapable of  empathy towards me and even her own family. At the time though in my 20’s her attitude was very damaging and stopped me taking care of myself when I was quite seriously ill for fear of being judged by her. When working in a close environment as I was and at her mercy, I was completely paralysed with fear. These days I don’t put up with that kind of treatment but it has taken me a long time to get to this point.

Leaving work was hugely damaging for my mental health, even though the previous two years working had been extremely damaging also, when I was with a team that refused to acknowledge my physical limitations and I was treated like a burden. My card had been marked, my face no longer fitted and the senior team decided that I was going to be worked out. I desperately hung on making myself sicker and weaker until I collapsed and there was nothing left in the tank. I was admitted to hospital and slept for 48 hours solid, only waking for the bathroom and something to eat. I was burnt out by it all, physically and mentally destroyed, it took me a very long time to claw my way back and realise that despite not working I was contributing to society in my own way.

This is why sewing, machine embroidery, crochet have all become so important to me. They have been an outlet for my creativity that had been stifled for so long after being led to believe I was academic and not creative. I had no confidence at all when it came to being creative. I taught myself how to sew on my sewing machine, my embroidery machine and I then two years later taught myself to crochet. Due to being pretty much housebound and obviously numerous lock downs with Covid 19, Youtube, magazines and books have been my teachers. I do find I am a visual learner however many of these videos assume a level of experience I don’t possess. So when it came to sewing I threw away the rule book, warp and weft meant absolutely nothing to me and nor did cutting fabric on the bias. Mostly I have got away with throwing away the rule book. I did the same with leaning how to use an embroidery machine, I embroidered designs on fabric that the book and many fellow embroiderers would have said wasn’t going to cope with a dense design. I taught myself ways of getting the fabric to behave the way I wanted and have shared what I have learned with newbies. I make mistakes, of course I do. The number of times I have managed to catch a fabric underneath the embroidery hoop and rendered what I have just spent an hour on useless. I have many towels with half designs on where I failed to secure it properly in the hoop and the design has drifted from the outline. I like perfection when I embroider and sew and it is hard for me to accept anything less. Even though I know perfection doesn’t exist.

My creative outlet hasn’t just filled a void in the respect that it has given me something to do, it also challenges me and demands that I find solutions to problems. It uses my brain in a way that I haven’t done since I stopped working, which is both exhilarating and exhausting in equal measure. So it was weird this year when suddenly I became anxious about using my embroidery machine and my ability to sew. It happened out of the blue, suddenly and unexpectedly I was too frightened to sew. Something I have adored since I started back in 2017. It meant projects were started and left semi completed for months at a time. My sewing area suddenly fell silent and gathered dust. I wanted to sew I really did but I couldn’t focus long enough to do it or feel confident enough to. 

This year has been a tumultuous year with Jay’s father passing away, me making a drastic change so that I walked away from those who were causing me harm and stifling my personal growth. There are also countless other things going on and I think the fear of sewing / embroidery was just a symptom of the mental anguish I was in. Eventually it got to the point where I had to use my machines as I needed to make a gift for a friend and I also needed to replace a wall hanging that I had managed to dye pink and nothing could be done to rescue it. In the end I just had to put my big girl pants on and take the plunge. I pushed myself well and truly outside my comfort zone, tackling projects I had always put off due to my lack of skill. I proved to myself I could do it and needed to stop listening to the negative voices in my head that had held me back my whole life.

I am rather thrilled with what I have created, it is still a work in progress and there are still days I have to force myself to get the courage to use my machines. Like the book says ” I feel the fear and do it anyway”.

All the fabric apart from the balck background fabric is Liberty. The patterns I got from – spinning compass points ( the central design) and the Flying Geese ( the triangles) are from Both patterns were free and just needed to be printed off. It is a technique called foundation paper piecing a technique which I have done only a around 3 times before attempting this piece and now I am completely converted to it. The reverse of my wall hanging looked like this,

I had great fun removing the papers although it did make a bit of a mess! 

Dembe was very curious

As I said it is still a work in progress and if I am well enough over the next few days I will be attempting to finish it.

My anxiety / confidence will always be an issue, I know now that sometimes you do have to fake it until you make it, pushing yourself to do the stuff you don’t feel comfortable with as by running away from it makes it a much larger issue.


After last week’s post was written and  scheduled to publish, initially I felt ok. I was proud of the fact that finally felt strong enough to speak my truth and no longer feel like I was blogging with one hand tied behind my back. As the hours ticked by towards publication I started to get worried about the post. I edited it numerous times, to ensure that I was comfortable enough to let it be published. I knew that at some point the anxiety would really kick in I just wasn’t expecting it at at 4am the day of publication.

I was reasonably comfortable on Wednesday evening when I turned in for the night. I was slightly anxious but kept trying to rationalise that this was a normal programmed response that over time I would unlearn. It is amazing how narcissists control you with fear of the explosion of their rage or perhaps the threat of the silent treatment. This is a cycle I have lived through my whole life. It gives you massive insecurities that love and support will be removed from you without notice, for breaking their rules, the ones you didn’t even know existed. 

I was a little surprised at how calm I was on Wednesday evening, it was too calm. But I thought well maybe I have had enough time away from that circus, to know that I wasn’t so under it’s control. How wrong I was. I woke up at 4am on Thursday morning in a cold sweat paralysed with fear. I lay in bed listening to my husband getting ready for work, with my mind going back and forth between whether or not to get up and stop the post being published. I decided to ride it out that I could no longer give into the fear of upsetting or angering people, who play no role in my life, who have done nothing but harm me when I was involved with them. 

It was really bloody hard because the physical feelings of anxiety are not easy to ignore. Why should I be frightened of  telling the truth? Surely I should be free at 47 to speak out about part of my life that has controlled so much of of what I do and say. No one should be this frightened of their family. To be frightened of one’s family isn’t normal. I have rationalised it and explained it away long enough. I am not doing that any more.

My physical feelings of anxiety are always the same, my stomach flips multiple times in a minute. I can feel light headed, I can hear my pulse in my ears and usually I will want to have the shits! Probably TMI. I managed to talk myself out of removing the post, I just thought let the chips fall where they may. By removing it I am continuing to let the control me. Given time the anxiety will reduce and I won’t be triggered so easily. It was hard but I did manage to get back to sleep. 

When I woke up at 8am the first thing I did was check my emails, I was fully expecting there to be abusive comments waiting to be published. I have always ensured that comments on either blog site are not allowed to publish without my permission. This isn’t because I am a control freak but due to the fact both my blog platforms are targets for spammers. I remove a huge amount of spam every week from both blogs . I was grateful to see that what I did have were messages of support and that I wasn’t alone. It is sad that so many of us grow up in these toxic environments and are too terrified to speak out due to the control still exerted over us even as adults. 

In the past I have raised things with my family, that have upset me, where I was name called or treated badly and every time I was told “It wasn’t meant like that” or ” that isn’t what was said” or “that didn’t happen”. Any criticism of parenting style was seen as an attack and it always took a great deal of courage to raise these issues. After a while I just gave up, you can’t discuss things with people that won’t accept what they did was wrong and life is too short for me to continue to keep trying and getting the same result.

My experience of narcissists is that the older they get the worse they get. Their audience has dwindled because most people have worked out what they are and give them a wide berth. It is a huge red flag when people constantly tell you they have no friends, a) they like being the victim b) It is simply not possible to go through that many years of life and to have zero friends – unless you are Attila the Hun or Hitler maybe but even Donald Trump has friends. As a narcissist ages the masks slips, you have been so long in their orbit that they don’t even bother trying to hide who they are anymore. The thought of having to put up with their behaviour until the dying day ( regardless of the inheritance involved ) filled me with horror. There simply wasn’t any reward on heaven or earth enough for me to continue to be this family’s whipping boy.

The anxiety has died down, I am ok with what was published I still stand by it. If they don’t like it that simply isn’t my problem anymore. There are a lot of things that have taken place in the last 47 years that I am not happy about but I have still found happiness and love with Mr Myasthenia Kid. I wish them all a long happy life together because truly that is what they all deserve