This blog began with me wanting to write about my garden, my big greenhouse (well it was the landlord’s late mother’s and we restored it and used it)…

but it became a place I put things down that were heavy. Where I let it out, took a minute (or 20) and then got back to living.

An emotional support worker (not therapist, she was a counsellor but legally wasn’t allowed to counsel me because of an ongoing investigation… I think it was legally, maybe just a guideline they follow)… anyway… an ES worker suggested a blog.

I already had my little amateur baking and gardening one, but when I was really unwell and sad this became where I vented.

As time had gone on, i’ve not needed to vent as much. I stopped being friends with people who were morally questionable and where when I started sticking up for myself I became a problem.

Imagine preferring your friends when they’re a walkover and have no confidence.

That’s not a friend.

I stopped ignoring red flags. Be it with guys, friends, acquaintances, randomers.

I stopped engaging in drama. I was so exhausted. I stopped trying to understand, make sense of it, mediate.

I got the fuck out of there.

Some people are a pain in the ass, just wish them well from a distance.

The peace it has brought me.

Tonight I asked my friend why I care so deeply about people who aren’t kind to me, even those who have abused me I still had love for…

He said it’s because I have a ‘good fucking heart’ and that’s why the people who know me love me so much.

I cried.

I already cried because a sweet little goose I visited every evening i’m home (and stupidly gave a nickname and got too attached to) died. I think it’s because it’s so soon after my beautiful dog Summer passing, I’m still proper emotional, like.

We contacted the ranger of the place it lived, just incase it could have ‘bird flu’. That was what I was worried about. I’m a worrier.

I think I’ve just got to accept i’m someone who cries a lot.

Every time I open a thoughtful gift, see a beautiful place for the first time, hear a certain song…

I no longer associate with a ‘family’ where people laughed and called me an ’emotional wreck’. Or joked ‘when is Stacey going to hang herself?’.

Some of us mere mortals cry. I’m alright with that.

Aside from the make up artist at someone I was friend’s with’s wedding told me she could tell I cry a lot whilst looking at my face. LOL! Genuinely funny yet genuinely horrified. ‘How does she know?’

Other than that, i’m ok with it. I’ve accepted it.