Thursday, 11 October 2007

Parcels parcels

Woo hoo! I was made very happy this morning by my secret pal's parcel arriving at the crack of dawn (Pooch always thinks this is hysterical when I say that because my mum's name happens to be 'Dawn'). Lookie...
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So much good stuff. Had a good rummage through the Interweave Crochet and found this:
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..which I rather like but without the peplum. I like my circular yokes. There was of course yarn too:
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Lovely malbrigo and some rowan yorkshire tweed 4-ply in a beautiful red. This was being discussed at golders green last night so very well timed. And then there was la piece de resistance....
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Aren't they just divine? So ladylike. I fricking adore the colourway and the little buttons just make them absolutely perfect. I have long believed that
  1. When you see a magpie you should say 'good morning mr magpie' or the world will end
  2. You can significantly raise or lower your body temp by apply warmth/cold to your pulse points
I actually crocheted a pair of wrist warmer things while at the first SkipNorth but they were really rubbish. I think general cosmic karma was stopping me from making anymore because I knew these ones would be coming my way. Am going to wear them to tesco later. And then never take them off. I really really like them - thanks Plum xxx

I'm catching up after that wobble at the weekend so haven't shown you these:
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I got them while visiting Nic and the gorgeous Pete at the weekend. I was actually holding Pete when I picked these so I like to think he had a hand in the choosing. Once again I took my camera but failed to take any pics. He really is just the most adorable baby. Everywhere we went people were stopping Nic and admiring him and asking his age, name, weight and all sorts of other things that were one more than 8 weeks old would probably seem terribly intrusive. But then I don't really need to take photos because there are lots over at her blog. Doesn't he look amazing in those hats. Broody? Moi? Ahem, moving on...

Earlier in the week I did get hold of my yarn and chocolate swap parcel from the ravelry swap. Yum! Reeses pieces and m&ms and lots of other stuff now sadly gone but not forgotten. Chocolate tends not to last too long around here. I did get this rather lovely stuff which is Lorna's Laces sock yarn.
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I am vaguely thinking of this for them. But then I don't know if that is a bit aggressive for such a mellow colourway. Perhaps this could be the yarn that does justice to Jane's bracket fungus socks? Hmmm.... There was also an adorable felt covered tape measure that gives me an idea for my next parcel to my SP.

Very last thing - am not totally comfortable with the idea but I do need a voice recorder so have added a 'donate' button to the podcast site.

Tuesday, 9 October 2007

Turning a corner

Wowsers - thanks everyone for sending me all those lovely messages and especially to lurkers who de-lurked for that reason. It's all meant a lot to me.



Pooch and I had a big old talk last night where we shared a whole heap of stuff and talked like we hadn't done for months. We really do love each other an awful lot and want to make each other happy which is why I think we were both so shocked that things got to the stage they did. I'm still not sure who was more upset by what happened but I know that he was lashing out and that it was p[artly a result of a position I'd put him in so I fully accept some responsibility. We are going to see the lovely Relate counsellor who helped us before but as pooch puts it "I think we only need a couple of visits - just to remind us what we've forgotten".



As I've just written in an email to my SP - in a way this might have a silver lining as it has reminded me of how before my last spell of madness I was holding everything in and how I learnt the hard way that I needed to share things. It's reminded me just in time to share my feelings with people, especially Pooch. It's also reminded me not to cut myself off from experiences and not to give the negative voices so much airtime. Listen more to the sqeaky me!



I don't want to come out with a whole list of "...and therefore I am going to do this that and the other..." but I have decided to give the MBA another go. I've been getting good marks and there's no point giving up til I am sure about what I want to do.



So things are looking a bit better today and hopefully normal knitting service will be resumed shortly. Thanks peeps x


Sunday, 7 October 2007

When is what someone says true? (non-knitting)

Things have not been so hot chez byrne recently. I don't want to cause a panic so let me start by saying that the stash is safe and the lack of temperature refers solely to non-knitting things. The fact is that married life is not quite the domestic bliss it's cracked up to be. In fact I'd go so far as to say it was periods of domestic silence interspersed with blazing rows and tentative reconciliation. The best, or quite possibly worst, episode took place on friday night and the repurcussions are still being strongly felt.

Now naturally I am not blameless in all this because as ever it takes two to argue. I don't want to go into the details but some things were said that I never thought I'd hear someone I care about say to me and I can't get them out of my head. I've just been talking to a friend who tells me that it isn't good to hear things like that as sooner or later you'll start believing them but I think it might be a tad too late for that.

When things started going bad at work I was being repeatedly told that I wasn't good with people, that I wasn't communicating ideas appropriately and that I wasn't any good at persuading people. For a while I fought my corner and insisted that it's hard to sell bollocks to clever people who are being told by people more senior to me that it is bollocks and they don't need to buy. But then I gave in and decided they must be right and I was wrong and that must mean that I was a bit useless. This is what Dr P and countless others would descibe as 'entering a phase of low self-worth'. Since then it has felt like I was like one of those russian dolls. There's the outside me all painted and strong and then there are these other versions inside, each a bit smaller than the last but trapped and that can't be seen until you take away the larger one. Somewhere right in the middle is the littlest one who has a voice even higher pitched than mine and who squeaks about having value and being good at things and having useful skills. It squeaks about deserving respect and trust. It likes socialising and doesn't feel ashamed about how it acts as it has the confidence to back up its actions and to judge these as appropriate. That's somewhere in there right in the middle.

As you move through successive layers there are hurtful things people have said tatoo-ed on the outside of each doll. You can still hear the squeaking here but it is pretty muffled so sometimes it's hard to make out the words. Then as you move out further the surfaces of the dolls get thicker and instead of other people's words being tatooed on the surface my own thoughts are carved into them. Lots of things like 'what if they're right that...' or 'what if it's my fault that...'. You can barely make out the squeaking except every now and again when a word or two comes through and reminds you that there is a person inside that used to be different. And each time that happens a new doll forms with a skin even thicker than the last one trying to block out the squeaking because somehow it's better to be worth nothing and just to accept that than to remember that once you were worthy of more than that.

I told Pooch this morning that I felt like I was trapped inside a facade that was painted to look happy. I felt like there was something inside screaming to get out, clawing at the walls until my fingers are all bloody and my voice is hoarse. He said he didn't understand. He said an awful lot more than that on friday night but I'm supposed to be able to forget about that and move on.

My friend says that people don't think it's my fault things have gone like they have with Pooch. That people are concerned and that if Pooch doesn't want to come out I should go by myself because people want to see me even when I'm by myself. But I just can't believe it. I am so ashamed. Ashamed of my marriage, of what I've become, of the things I can't bring myself to do because of the shame. Ashamed that I don't want to go out by myself, ashamed that I secretly believe people think his behaviour is down to me, ashamed of his behaviour, ashamed of him.

I haven't written anything like this on my blog for months because I was ashamed. I didn't want people to know what was going on so I tried to hide it. But at the same time I ended up not going out because I thought that if they asked me I might not be able to lie and it was better to be ashamed and alone than to admit all wasn't rosy. But to be honest that hasn't really been working that well for me so after much consideration I am effectively jumping out of the closet. I am at the moment terribly terribly unhappy but not depressed. I think if I made myself hide it any longer that would change and it is (probably) better to be outed than to risk falling back into the abyss again.

When you next see me will you do me a favour though - don't ask me about the specifics. Don't ask me to talk about how I'm feeling because I'm just not good at all that emotional stuff. Just talk to me about normal things and remind me how comfortable it can be to be a part of the world even when things aren't going that well. Remind me that it doesn't make any difference if you don't hide things and that you don't have to pretend to be happy and robust to be treated with respect. Or if all else fails ask me what it's like trying to keep the tension even when making cabled socks in two colours using the magic loop method.
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