easter gives me hope

silhouette photography of hanging rosary
Photo by Vanderlei Longo on Pexels.com

We need that little bubble

Rising in our throats

A little joy, some warmth

To see us into summer months

We never thought we’d see.

I’ve written about my faith and how I’m struggling with it at the moment. And not in a ‘I’m not sure if I’ve got it right’ kind of way. I mean in a ‘I hate everything that comes from this’ kind of way. And that genuinely makes me so sad. Because my faith has brought me through so much, and I genuinely think that everybody needs to believe in something bigger than themselves if they are going to thrive in the world.

But there is something about Easter that just refreshes what I know I’ve always felt. Christmas can sometimes bring out the worst in people because we are all so stressed, trying to make it the best ever. But there isn’t that stress that surrounds Easter. And if you have a Christian faith, then it’s obviously a very powerful and emotional weekend.

I’m only bringing this up again because I just went shopping and rather than nipping around the corner, I decided to get in the car and drive across town. This meant that I had twenty minutes in the car, listening to the radio. And on the radio they were talking about the crucifixion and playing songs by choirs and choristers.

It just made something bubble up inside of me. I’ve been hating God for the problems in my family, but the truth is that it’s inherently human to go through all of these things. These weekend is celebrated to remind us that Jesus suffered that pain.

I sometimes feel like I have wavered at the first hurdle with my faith. I almost gave up when the first bad thing happened. Almost. But not quite.

Wishing you some hope and love this weekend.

Much Love

Rachel xx

changing the language

illuminated neon sign
Photo by Nadi Lindsay on Pexels.com

A word that’s carved and chipped away,

Still means the same,

It doesn’t take away;

And yet it lets our world relax,

An outward sigh

Erasing thoughts and hateful lies.

I am a literature graduate so I am well aware of the power of the pen and the written word. I know that a strongly worded Twitter post can kill and a spiteful letter could tear a family apart.

I know that sounds a little bit melodramatic, but when you are somebody who feels everything really deeply (and I’m sure there are a fair few of us out there) those words can cut really deep.

So, I’m working really hard on trying to change my language a little bit; just to make things a tiny bit easier. I have a tendency to make life really exciting or really tragic with the way I shape the words in my head.

Last week I had a stinker of a week and that old tape recording playing in my head started up. It told me that I was evil and crap at everything I do. Then, this week I got that job and I was as high as a kite.

But before I flew off the handle, I gave myself a little talking to. I would normally be telling myself, over and over, that I have just got my ‘dream’ job and that life is now going to be perfect.

I believe in the power of positivity, but I also think that we can damage ourselves with some of the words that we use. I think that no job is a ‘dream’ and if you are sensitive to words, then what happens when you meet your first bump in the road? Your ‘dream’ becomes a nightmare.

So, this time around I am making sure I tell myself that I’ve done really well and I have a job that I can be proud of. But it’s going to be difficult and it’s not going to be perfect; but I should try to enjoy that challenge as much as I possibly can. There will be tears along the way, but that’s OK.

Much Love

Rachel xx

they saw a little sparkle

There was something there

When you wiped away the grime

That life had flung against her skin.

There was a little sparkle

That needed to get out.

So, I went for my interview yesterday. I had a tour of the school, did a written task, taught a class and then had a formal interview with the deputy head. This is not the kind of thing that sits well with me as it gives me a lot of time to say something really stupid.

And there were moments when I wavered. I have a bit of a twisty and turny route that I have taken to where I am and I got the feeling that the deputy was getting a bit judgey.

But apparently he quite liked that route that I took, because they pulled me into the office and said that they wanted to offer me the job. They were very open and said that they had already had a round of interviews with people that ‘on paper’ they had preferred, and none of them had made the cut. I was sloppy seconds (and I don’t blame them because my CV is awful), but given a chance I could actually shine through.

So, what a week. Last week I was propped up in the corner crying because I just felt like nobody wanted me, and just seven days later, I need to be scraped off the ceiling.

I know that there are still going to be many ups and downs to come, but I’m enjoying it up here on the ceiling for a couple of days.

Much Love

Rachel xx

has anyone ever slept through an interview

A bird upon a windowsill, tweeting,

Marking that the day has started

Long ago, and now you’re late.

That gentle light that through

The yonder window breaks,

It marks that it is ten o’clock

And Sleeping Beauty has slept through

And she groans in disbelief, realising

That she’s missed her interview!

Thankfully, my interview is tomorrow. Because if it had been today, I would have missed it. I somehow managed to sleep through three alarms and it was only the light coming through my open curtains that signaled to me that something was wrong.

I’ve done this before, as I am sure that everyone has. But the fact that I have an interview tomorrow and if that were to happen tomorrow I could kiss that opportunity goodbye, that gave me a bit of a scare.

It made me think of how badly an interview could go. I’m sure people have slept in and missed them before. Would you even bother going if you realised that you were half an hour late? And how long into an interview are you before you realise you’ve stuffed it up? I heard a story about somebody doing their driving test and they immediately backed into the test centre wall. Could you do the equivalent in an interview?

Let’s just hope that tomorrow starts off a bit better than today did.

Much Love

Rachel xx

the home shopping channel

I don’t need a mattress or those pots and pans,

The shoes that come in seven colours

Or the exercise machine, that builds the killer abs.

But sometimes when it’s late at night,

I’m lonely and my demons eat away at cells of brain

That really I should cling to tightly in the dark.

And yet my card is in my hand, my mobile to my ear

And words are tumbling out my mouth

As I small talk with the Scottish man, on the other end.

I can tell he thinks I haven’t got a life,

He’s right. But sometimes he’s the only one

I’ll speak to in a day…. or week.

His voice is almost calming, like the lady on the screen

That claims my life will be complete

Once this blender makes it to my door.

The shopping channel reminds me who I am

At midnight when the tears have dried,

The pills have fizzed to nothing and

The soul has left my body for another sad and lonely day,

The desperate dreams have all but blown away.

the end is getting close and i don’t know how i feel

grayscale photo of woman
Photo by Oliver Sjöström on Pexels.com

Crossing the second shipping lane

With heavy arms that turned a thousand times,

But now the sun is risen and the fog

Has cleared to show a sea that flickers

Under daylight’s gentle morning kiss

And that dread of hours more has disappeared,

Now I’ll sort of miss relentless strokes,

The salt that once just burned my mouth

And the cold that enveloped my heart.

All that once was pain and strife

Is suddenly the reason for my life.

The end is near, I thought I’d flow

With joy at knowing I could end

This swim, this trial that has consumed

My every waking minute and

Instead I feel the ache of love

That’s being ripped away.

I just finished my third out of four essays which means that I am almost there! I am almost finished! And I am sure that most people have reached this point in something that has felt like a slog, the moment when you know it’s almost over. And the strangest thing happens. You realise that you’re going to miss it.

I’ve had this feeling over and over and I remember is most acutely from swimming the Channel. There is this feeling when you reach French waters and you know that you’re going to make it; you suddenly want to keep going. You have struggled for twelve hours, swimming through cold and dark and shipping lanes and shoals of jellyfish and you thought that you wanted nothing more than to end it.

I think that sometimes we’re addicted to pain and we just want to put our bodies and minds through hell. It makes you feel alive to feel pain and discomfort and many of us are sometimes really frightened that we aren’t living life.

I have this feeling that I’m going to end up crying when I press send on that final essay. And then I’ll probably start searching for something else to torture myself with. Because that’s the way I am.

Much Love

Rachel xx

and then she goes and gets two interviews

It’s like bloody buses

This good news

None for days

Just wandering in a desert

Dry and arid

Then it ends

A finish line of sorts

And there is traffic

People

Movement

And we breathe a sigh

Of relief.

I have literally had sleepless nights over the fact that I’m not getting anywhere with finding a job. And then I get two invitations to interview in the space of an hour. It feels like a cosmic joke.

If something is not happening, hang tight. I’m sure it’ll start to happen if you just keep chipping away with dogged determination.

Much Love

Rachel xx

and so we rise

photo of heart shaped balloon
Photo by Andreas Wohlfahrt on Pexels.com

It’s quite the humbling experience,

That moment when we reach the bottom

Of a hole, a stack of cards or the whisky bottle,

But then the rise can be quite meteoric,

A red balloon swollen with a puff of helium,

Sending us in upward spirals quicker than

We ever thought that day we sat

Sobbing on a plastic chair with several kids

Peeping in and wondering why

Miss is crying. She’s a grown up, isn’t she?

It feels so nice, now I’m back,

But caution must be exercised

As red balloons can burst so easily,

Shriveled skins that float back down to earth,

Way too arrogant to fly too far away.

I was literally sobbing in a classroom just two days ago. My head did that thing where it runs away with itself and tells me that not only am I bad at my job, but also nobody likes me and I’m about as evil as you can get.

I felt like I was at rock bottom and even the following day I felt flat and washed out. But then today was great and it felt like Tuesday was just a distant memory.

It just goes to show how quickly we can forget, which is quite a skill. I’m still not sure if it makes us really clever or really stupid as a species, but today I’m quite thankful.

I do know that I have to keep these rises in mood in check though. It is definitely easy to get carried away and to end up getting so high you just pop. I’ve seen it quite a lot with people who are coming back from the dark place that alcohol can take us. People who feel too good, too quick and ultimately end up picking up the drink again.

We are human, and we are supposed to suffer. It’s part of the process. We’re allowed to have highs but we need to be ready for that pop. So my advice would be to enjoy responsibly.

Much Love

Rachel xx

we push and pull

starry sky over mountains
Photo by Cliford Mervil on Pexels.com

We push and pull within this life,

Inside this tiny home we love.

We love each other but

There’s testing that we need to do

And like a pane of glass

That buckles in the wind

It only takes a little more

And we will smash into a thousand jewels.

So push,

But as our world begins to bend,

Be ready for that break,

Be ready for the sweeping up

Of sparkling stars that could have been

Washed up in our midnight sky.

double whammy

woman in black sports bra and black shorts holding black and white boxing gloves
Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

The cruelest thing in life

Is the gut punch of the double whammy,

When you’re already late and it starts to rain,

Or there’s nowhere to park and your tights have laddered

Or you have a crap lesson then you don’t get an invite

To the job that you wanted with all of your heart.

Then twists and it spirals til you’re down on the floor

Unsure you can do this for one moment more.

So today, I got an email from a school that I loved and I went to look around and it told me that they have looked at my application and they don’t want to interview me. Then, I went into the lesson and got told that it was basically a load of crap.

I could have handled one of those things, but double whammies are just too much. It’s like getting kicked, dropping to the floor and then being kicked again. It’s pretty hard to get up from that.

In true Rachel style, I then burst into tears and cried on my observing teacher for an hour and then went to professional studies and sat in the corner crying for another hour.

The problem with a double whammy, for me, is the fact that it tends to open up wounds that have nothing to do with what is going on in the foreground. I went from ‘oh, I didn’t get the interview’ to ‘I’m a waste of air and space and don’t deserve to be alive in the space of 10 seconds.

I’m now having an ice lolly and I’ll go for a run and hopefully, by the time I get up in the morning, normal service will have resumed.

Love from a bit of a Loser,

Rachel xx