New days, new thoughts, new hall paint.

Perspective is a beautiful, healing thing. It truely is.

I have my own special brand of crazy, and I freely admit it, so this post might not make much sense to anyone who thinks I'm normal. (consider yourself warned if my insane logic frys your brain!)

I've painted my hallway. This in turn means I'm sorting my shit out.

Early last week, I was in a bad place. I really was. People who I love, who I loved and who I put so much of myself into helping, admitted that they had made mistakes with me, but that they had learned from them, and wouldnt make them with anyone else. WTF??? Who says things like this to other humans. Who sits there and acknowledges how much of yourself you gave to sort them out, but they had to fuck you up to get to where they need to be. Unfortunately, this is a reaccuring pattern with far too many people in my life. This is why I have made new friends this year, why I've started getting harder, become less forgiving, and started putting myself before my friends. Some people in my life did not deserve what I did to help them thru. If they had understood what I had done for them they would never have betrayed me like they have. Thats not all. I'm not often a nice person, but anyone who knows me knows that I will move heaven and earth to make things right for others. And I still will. I always will cos its the way I'm made. But there are a few differences here and there now.

Anyway, back to the painting thing, cos it is a huge issue. I moved in here 3 and 1/2 years ago. In all that time the only walls that have been painted are my bedroom ones. Which was a good thing and needed at the time. So in all this time, all this chaos that has happened within these four walls, all the tears and rows and anger, all the heartbreak and pain, and the place is still as it was when Phil and I moved in, happy, married and in love. So painting, a big thing. Add to that the fact that I have never painted a room, or a wall, all by myself, on my own, for me. I'm busy building my home. Making it mine. And in the process I am sorting my shit out. As my home is coming together so am I. I really want to be sorted out now. I have things I want to do, and I can't do them because I'm so busy feeling sorry for myself, being down on myself, and believing what others think of me. I'm trying to repair the damage thats been done to me, by myself and by others, cos my son deserves a mother who's in the best possible place, and everyone else derserves to see the pieces of me that I hide. The pieces of me that I don't trust people with cos I dont think they need to deal with my shit...cos if I'm dealing with theirs, they can damn well do the same for me.

Ok, ramble over, I think. And who knows, maybe I'll start posting more now!