Bad mood, time to vent.

OK, so this isn't the conventional venting of frustration...well, maybe it is slightly, but it isn't the pure anger sorta thing that's expected! I'm feeling sorry for myself, mainly, so this is going to be pretty damned self-centered. Don't say I didn't warn you.
I'm sick of emotions, quite frankly! I am sick of feeling completely emotionally vulnerable. It was a problem that I wasn't and now I'm at the complete opposite end of the scale and it's shit.
I used to be almost immune to emotions. OK, not immune, but I barely cried. I wasn't a particularly emotional child after my Auntie's unexpected death in 2001 (I was 7), but I got a whole lot worse, I think, in year 10. In year 10 I went through something with people I called my friends at the time which was emotionally traumatic. This paired with my first relationship with a boy made me a bit of a mess by the end of the academic year. After this I started, slowly, to get closer to a guy. We got a lot closer in the first year of college and it wasn't long before I called him my best friend. I don't really like it, but I did actually love him, as a friend...not as more, as I discovered later (I'll get back to that). Thing was though, about this friend of mine, he was there for me and comforted me as much as he could when I had problems at home, but he was emotionally broken. I mean, all of this plus things at home made me quite bad, but he was shockingly bad. He had been emotionally closed-off since he went through a pretty rough time of a few close relatives dying in a short time. He never cried over anything. This made for a very destructive relationship when either one of us was upset and wouldn't give up on the other for anything. I lost count of the times I spent talking to him online until the early hours of the morning just to try and make him feel a little better. I was emotionally fucked and he hated himself. He also had very strong feelings for me and had for years. This confused the hell out of me and added to the destructive nature of the relationship. He would say he liked me and I would feel guilty because of how much I cared for him. Eventually, I gave in, and last February, on leap-year day, we got together. Well, I say we got together, we didn't see each other for ages and only accidentally spent time together in the library at college. We met up once, purposefully during the first 5 months. It was very awkward, looking back, and that should have really told me that it wasn't going to work. But, with me being a complete sucker and hating to give up, I stayed with him. After those awful 5 months, we finally started acting slightly like a couple, seeing each other alone for days and going out together with friends a few times. One of these times being one of my best friends' 18th birthday parties. We went to the party together...then spent most of the night apart and h left without telling me. I still stayed with him. An idiot, yes, yes I was. He showed me NO affection in public and he was a massive nob head to most people. But I thought I was special because I didn't get that behavior directed me, because he was attracted to me and I was one of few that bothered with him. Anyway, we carried this farce on for a while, then I went to university. We both knew it would be hard but wanted to give it a go. He made me feel like crap during one of the first nights out because he was messaging me and feeling down. I didn't care about me so much because I wanted him to cheer up, but it was a very selfish thing of him to do and something I now avoid doing.
A few weeks into university and he came to visit for a night. We spent the whole day-or-so in my room. The first day was fine...then at night, we shared my single bed and I felt uncomfortable. There was something not right. The whole next day was the same. I wanted him to go as soon as we got up.
The next day, I messaged him and explained this, before calling the relationship off. He of course, as expected, was upset. I spoke to family and friends about it and they were all very supportive.
The day after this happened I received a message from him. He had hacked into my facebook account and found messages from two guys that I had met at uni, nothing out-of-order or hinting at anything more than friendship was said between me and these guys, but he had it in his head that I intended to cheat on him. He told me he hated me. I cried. I cried, alone, hysterically.
I managed on from then and we got back to being mates. Until one night when I broke the news that I was seeing someone; my current boyfriend (who is, btw, infinitely better and I love him lots). He went off on one yet again, and kept making stupid references to the relationship on a mutual friend's statuses. Me and my boyfriend then had an argument with him and that was that. I moved on. I did try to talk to him again a couple of months ago, but the emotions had gone, he just drove me mad and annoyed the hell out of me with his pessimism.
Months after this happened, I lost my Grandma. I've blogged about it before, so I won't detail it. It messed me up, though. I have since been very sensitive and cried many times, not just out of grief.
The point in the long story?! I moved on. I felt strong enough to start again and focus on what I had at the time and then find someone new. I did it in year 10 with the friend thing and again in october with this break-up. But now, if anything bad like that happened, I would be broken. Due to a few recurring problems in my relationship I ended up on a break not that long ago with my boyfriend. It tore me apart. I physically couldn't deal with the thought of breaking up with him. Yes, a lot of this was down to my feelings for him, but old me could have handled the thought better. New me could not, and granted we are OK now, but if we hadn't been I don't know what I would have done.
And now, I have been apart from him for almost a month and I feel awful most of the time. I won't be seeing him for at least a month now, I think, and I'm finding it very difficult. I've been crying more at films and even feel like I could cry now despite there being no sad film to blame. This may also be because I have just started watching classic Doctor Who and I cannot find the fifth episode online (a version that will play). Doctor who affects me a little too much since becoming a full-scale whovian.
So, I think I have explained enough and dragged enough shit up. Now to find something to do...inabit.

Happy post! Yay!

It's come to my attention that my last blog post was REALLY DEPRESSING. So I thought to myself Let's change that. Things are a lot better than the last badly-written string of thoughts made out. Although things with the mother aren't fantabulous, but that was always going to be the case when I've been away for months at University. I was living exactly how I wanted and now I have to help around a house of five people of all different ages as opposed to my halls flat of twelve 18-19 year old girls and soon to be house of four 19-20 year old ladies!
Well, for a start, I'm actually in a (mostly) happy, stable (ish), mature (...OK, maybe not) relationship. It's taken a while to steady it out properly and ...exclusify (not a word, but I don't really care) it, but now I actually have real faith in it and I am happy. I'm not about to write what is essentially a long love letter, because that sort of thing should really be reserved for their eyes only! It's a very private matter and as much as I want people to know that things are good, I don't think anyone wants/needs to know it all. Some of my closest friends will know a fair bit already but I don't want that to continue the way it has. Because it's ended up causing arguments not only in my relationship but within my friendship group and that isn't what I want.
Alsoooo...I KINDA SORTA HAVE A JOB. Kinda. Sorta. I'm basically signed up to a catering recruitment agency. They do silver service and concerts and shopwork and allllll sorts. It sounds great in theory but they have yet to give me some actual work since my basic SS training on Tuesday. I've also had other interviews arranged but I won't say any more in case they all go tits up. But hey, three years of getting upset and stressed and angry and god-knows-what-else-y about it has possibly payed off. It's nice.
Oh yeah, and I have three things later this year which are, pretty damned awesome. Numero Uno being that I shall be seeing Bill Bailey live for the second time in September....WOOH! I adore him. He's hilarious and brilliant! I saw him a few years ago in a sports hall in Penrith, Lake District. It was a lovely weekend and he was on top form. This time it's in the Lowry, Salford, which is closer to home and a nicer venue. I'm looking forward to it SOOOOOO much.
Number two: the bittersweet thing that is Matt Smith's penultimate (sob) performance as The Doctor in the 50th Anniversary of the show. DAVID TENNANT IS BACK. It promises to be pretty spectacular and I can't wait to watch it, whether it is in London, the local cinema or our front room. It's going to be amazing.
Annndddd number three. Can't really explain how amazing it is. Myself and my family are going to Australia in December. It is going to be AMAAAAAAAAZING. Christmas in the sun?! Yes, please! I loved it when we went in 2008 and we're going again but with better weather!! It's such a beautiful country and the family over there are great and always lovely.
So yeah, a bit of nagging is NOTHING compared to how the rest of this year is going to be. And that is without this summer! Possible BBQ, trip down south (x2, maybe, arrangements are a little understocked at the moment) and maybe working enough to actually afford life...always good. I also intend to drag my friends from home out a lot in the near future...hellooooooo days at Walton Gardens!
So that's good relationship, good friendships, mostly good home life, possible job and AMAZING holiday...not to mention studying my passion in life at uni and am dram on the side. Yes, everything is pretty great at the moment. It is easy to forget when something upsets or annoys me but really, I am happy and healthy and I've got a lot to look forward to.
Hello there, optimist Bekii, how're you? It has been a while...

And here I shall end this...I don't know what. Guten nacht, alles. BYE!

Big, bad change...of sorts.

Hello there Blogspot! It has been a while, hasn't it?!
All of my posts are pre-uni and so I thought to myself: let's update stuff, shall we? And so here I am! After reading my older posts, I'm not entirely sure what's happened to my thought processes...I used bit words etc. in the other posts but god there's some bad grammar there! I'm going to attempt to keep my grammar intact now, which to be honest, should be a requirement for someone at my level of ENGLISH studies!
It's a shame that some of the posts mention an ex friend that seeked attention and drove me mad became slightly nullified as I started talking to her again a while ago. Granted, I don't talk to her at all now but still, it proves yet again how weak I can be! It's a shame that I revert to that sometimes but I am working on it! My weakness is something that, in the right state of mind, I can overcome. Although this depends on the situation: loss is one that I cannot simply talk myself into dealing with, which I truly discovered/re-discovered in January with the loss of my Mum's Mum. University has been a massive change but not an unwelcome now and changes in relationships have also made a big difference to me, but they're things that are essentially manageable. Losing someone just outside immediate family is big. Especially when you're present. I don't want to get all morbid for my first post back but it is rare that I speak about this. My Grandma was a lovely woman and a massive inspiration. She fought the C word for two long years and it eventually beat her. I saw her just two days before she quietly slipped away and it's an unfortunate memory that will stay with me for a long time. She was struggling so much. This strong, wise and lively woman was reduced to a frail old lady in the short time I spent with my Mum at her bedside. The last thing I spoke to her about was a performance that I was just about to start working for and she made a joke about it. She then started struggling, had to be checked on by the doctors and so I left the room holding back tears. She was asleep by the time I saw her again and so myself and my Mum left the hospital. It affected me a lot. I was almost shaking and in tears immediately after and the image of her on the bed, gasping for air when she'd removed her mask stuck in my mind. This was Wednesday the 23rd of January. On the Friday my Mum went to visit her and see her cousin, one of Grandma's remaining blood relatives (other than her children and grandchildren) as she had just got in from Chicago. I had a little lie in but got woken up from my phone going off. It was my Dad and he told me to get ready quickly because he was going to pick me up; the doctor had said she was on her way out. I rushed to get ready, keeping the emotions out as long as I could if only to keep my breakfast down. I needed to stay strong for Mum. I kept telling myself that as I waited for Dad and again all the way to Trafford General Hospital. We got there to be greeted by my Mum, in tears, her Dad and her cousin. We were shortly joined by my Mum's sister, her husband and one of their daughters. We sat waiting after saying hello to a barely-conscious Grandma. At about 11:10 we were called into the room where she was as she was nearly gone. We surrounded her bed and everyone said goodbye to her through tears, except for my Dad who had gone for coffee just minutes before with Mum's cousin. Her breathing slowed and a nurse came over to check her vital signs. She had gone. The nurse told us and my Mum who had been holding Grandma's hand and knelt down beside her next to her sister, collapsed against the bed. I hugged her as she wept. We all hugged each other out of the love and support we all needed so much at that time and were shortly joined by Dad and Mum's cousin again. That was, I think, the only time I saw my Grandad cry. He had been through everything with Grandma and been such a massive support to here, despite contracting skin cancer just after Grandma was first diagnosed. He is a truly amazing man and the few tears I saw him shed had more impact than any of those shed by the rest of us. The long-lasting love between the two of them is something that most people nowadays can only dream of. They were married for nearly 54 years, their 50th anniversary being one of the happiest times of mine and my family's life. The respect and love I have for that lovely old man could not be greater. He fought a battle with cancer and supported his very ill wife through hers until the end. And he's still as charming and funny as he was before she passed away. A truly inspirational man. I can't talk about someone being inspirational without mentioning my Mum. She is brilliant. She supported both of my grandparents, and still runs around after Grandad now. I wasn't the greatest help I could have been for the two years but at the end, when I had a few months of adult life under my belt, I knew how important this all was and forced myself to be the strongest I have ever been, for her sake as well as my Grandparents. I had been a pain for years with my Mum, we had countless problems and barely spoke for months despite living in the same house. It was mostly my fault and I don't think I will ever completely forgive that. So when this very difficult time came, I booked my ideas up and i was there for my Mum. Since then we have been closer and I think it has fixed a lot of the cracks in our relationship. It's awful that it had to come down to losing someone so important for us to resolve our differences but I like to think of it as Grandma's last gift to us. It's just another way in which I can be positive that her suffering is over and we don't have to worry about her anymore. As I have mentioned on previous posts, I am a Catholic, and the belief that she has gone to heaven and is with her daughter who died almost twelve years ago is a great comfort. As sad as we all are that she had to leave us, we believe that she is being looked after and no longer in the pain that took over the last two years of her life. The only thing about her death that could have been better for her is if her son, my uncle, had made it to the Hospital in time. When she went he was on the plane from Australia and therefore we couldn't reach him until her landed hours later. As she slipped away it began to snow, very lightly. This, however silly it may sound, seemed like it was a sign of her leaving us, and if it was, was a beautiful way in which to do so. If it wasn't then it was a pretty big coincidence.
Writing this has made me a breakdown slightly, so I do apologise if any of this makes no sense and if it is too morbid. I needed to do this, I think. I'm barely past the initial grieving period and it's been over four months since she left us. I have also been emotional recently for other reasons and getting it all out is therapeutic if a little messy (I have used A LOT of tissues).
Loss has always, since the death of my Auntie, terrified me. I will always remember my Mum coming home after saying my Auntie was poorly, in tears. She sat me down in our front room in our old house, and told me that she had died. I cried almost endlessly that day and even worried my parents that something more was up at one point. I had never experienced loss before and this one had made my closest cousin in relationship and age lose his mother and since then we have barely spoken and we see him a couple of times a year a the most. I still have the teddy that belonged to my auntie, it's with me here at uni, and I do sometimes hug it and think of her and how things would be if she hadn't had a brain tumor that made her collapse and led my cousin (who was also seven at the time) to calling the emergency services for his own mother. It was an exceptionally sad time, although my memories are slightly clouded by my young age. My Mum lost her closest sibling and her best friend and my Grandparents lost their little girl. Not to mention my cousin losing his Mum. The thought of losing my Mum, even through the hard times between us, is the scariest thing I can think of.
And yet after that trauma and the recent loss of her Mum, my Mum still manages to go strong and stay happy a lot of the time. She celebrated her 40th birthday a couple of weeks ago and I have never felt more proud to call her my Mum. She had a lovely time with most of her friends and family and even her brother, her sister-in-law and two of her nephews made it over from Australia to be there. Mum's cousin, who I mentioned before, also made it back over which meant the world to Mum. The sheer number of people there to support my Mum was amazing. She did a short speech in which she spoke mostly to her Dad and mine. I nearly teared up then from the pride, hints of sadness about Grandma and happiness that I have such an amazing family and Mum has such supportive friends. It was a brilliant night and I got to babysit with my Dad's, cousin's daughter, looking after her half baby sister who is a very cute baby.
I don't think I've ever really said all of this, not all together at least. This hasn't been the easiest thing to write but I really did need it.
Apologies for the sadness! I will hold it back from now on, that or keep it for my diary!
On a more positive note: I'm going to see Ironman3 next week and Sherlock series three is out this year.

Over and out.