Posts Tagged ‘ Time ’

Upstream – Poem

The water flows in one direction.
Down.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
From the tallest mountain’s high peak,
The water flows ever lower.
Gathering speed as it travels,
Seeking out its faraway destination.
Crashing and curving,
Bending and bumping.
Complicated lengthy journeys onwards,
Wondering if it will ever end.

Rocks smoothen under the pressure,
Time passes, erasing events.
It changes all within its path,
With speed and direction, a constant rhythm.
Currents cuddle,
Streams strengthen solid.
It carries everything in its arms,
Wondering can anything resist.

Teeming with symbiotic life,
Many safely do call it home.
Swimming against its flow is hard,
Taking what little energy remaining.
Fighting the flow,
Bringing the beast.
It takes all from the mountain to the sea,
Wondering which ones will first perish.

The natural changes are toxic,
What thrives in one, dies in the other.
From the purest source up high and low,
To the corrupted briny oceans far out.
Devastating dreams,
Silencing screams.
Its beating drum deafens all around,
Wondering which will choose to rebel now.

Upstream they swim with one goal in mind,
One purpose in mind for the future.
Returning home to birth the next stage,
Giving purpose to newly obsolete lives.
Swimming success,
Battle beaten.
They fight against it with all their might,
Wondering how long until the next time.

© Persephone M 10th June 2011

The Downhill Slope

I get really annoyed about people who keep telling me that I’m getting old and that it’s all downhill from here. I never used to have a problem with ageing.

I loved turning 18 and having ID. In fact I loved it more when I hit 20/21 and I actually liked drinking and going out. It hasn’t happened in a while but I still panic about being IDed when trying to buy alcohol. I think it’s because I’m about to turn 30, the first milestone in 9 years and everyone loves their 21st. It’s that my body already feels like it is failing so the joking comments of getting older and it’s all downhill from here, aren’t really that funny.

I’ve always considered myself generally healthy. I like naughty foods but I’ve always managed to be on the slimmer side of obese. People would still say I am,but there’s been a definite weight gain the past 6 months or so. That could simply be due to having surgery which put exercise out of the equation and eating more junk food than normal. Whilst maintaining my weight has never been a huge problem, losing weight is impossible.

So I’ve gone up a dress size and then of course there’s the whole fertility thing. I don’t want to call myself infertile because there’s no reason that I am and I feel like I shouldn’t be grouped with people who are infertile with reasons. Mine doesn’t feel as important or significant or mean as much because there is nothing wrong with me. And if there isn’t anything wrong with me, my body isn’t failing me, right?

But its still my body that can’t get pregnant. And getting older isn’t going to help.

So when people I know joke about it all being downhill from here, thanks but I can’t go much further down. And for those that joke about it all that openly know about my fertility issues (because some of the commenters are merely acquaintainces) well I really wish they could learn some common sense and realise that words can hurt.

This is probably my most anxious birthday and I don’t want to be all precious about it,but I am getting old and my body already can’t do thinks it should be able to and it isn’t going sort itself out with increasing age or get better with age. I’m not a fine wine. I’m the pink spotted mouldy dairylea I found in my fridge thie.morning.

~Persephone M

My Smile

I’ve just started working on a new project sorting and organising all of my old family photos. My Great Aunt passed away a few years ago and her daughter gave my mum all of the photos in the hope that, as family eldest, my mum would be the one who had the greatest chance of knowing who everyone in the photos are.

No one’s got around to doing anything with them yet. But then I had a major spring (summer) clean and decided to put my new desk and office space at home to good use; I began scanning them all in.

I’ve only done just over 100 and I started with the family weddings, moving onto random ones that I will never be able to put a date to. I wasn’t going to show anyone any of them until I was all finished and perhaps collated them into albums. But then I saw this picture.

I never met this lady and, sadly, I don’t think any of her descendants look like her, but the half crazy, hyper smile of a grown woman sitting on what could be a child’s rocking horse is familiar. So I am sharing this one photo now.

The smile says it all.

Enjoy!
~ Persephone M

Lost Friendships

First of all, I’m doing this by email and have no idea how it’s going to turn out, but apparently I can’t access my blog on my new/old desktop PC.

So, I’ve been feeling a bit… worthless. It’s just the mood I’m in and I know it’ll pass, but, honestly, at the moment I feel like everyone surpasses me, that there is no point for my existence.

I’m starting to feel better. And I know I will, maybe just in a few more days. Anyway, earlier on I was emailing a friend and telling her about my apparent worthlessness and then I got onto the subject of a very old, and forgotten, friend and I started to wonder if some of my current down-ness is because of someone I once knew.

There’s poetry on here about it – the time period of my life and the person (or people) in question. I think if you click on the tag “4” it should include some of them. Not sure of the others and I can’t check either! Silly desktop PC. It was ten years ago this year that everything in my life truly did go wrong, the time when if there ever was a time in my life where I was useless it was then.

It all began and in some ways culminated in 2002, with some things trailing into 2004. But by ’04 that entire period in my life was over and complete for good. She was my best friend. She isn’t anymore.

The issues between us (I don’t really know what happened. I remember feeling unhappy, angry, incredibly sad. I remember all of this being directed at her. But I think it might have just been us both growing up and, inevitably, apart. I don’t think I ever hated her. I certainly don’t hate her anymore.) have caused immense strain on other friendships.

Over the past 8-10 years I’ve avoided one friend’s birthdays and other gatherings because of the thought of the ex-friend being there. It doesn’t make me proud. The thing is, I think people think that I avoided my ex-friend, and by default my amazing other friend’s events because I hated the ex-friend. Or because I was still angry about the year in which I felt abandoned. It’s my amazing friend’s birthday soon and the ex-friend will be there. I’m already nervous.

Not because I hate her guts and don’t want to see her let alone breathe the same air as her. Not because I’m scared that she’ll pick a fight with me (I’m surprisingly unconfrontational with most people). What I don’t think anyone knows is the real reason why I’ve avoided her, why I get nervous about the thought of seeing her, why (in the past) I’ve boasted about my life on the rare occasions that I’ve been in her presence.

I miss her.

For over three years, my ex-friend was my best friend. We shared interests, we spent random hours randomly talking about rubbish or in silence just enjoying each other’s company. We held similar views and it’s sad that she’s not in my life anymore.

I have some amazing friends right now, four or five girls that I would turn to in any situation and would put my life in their hands. But none of them are my ex-friend. No one is my best friend. The ex-friend still holds that title.

And it hurts.

She’s the ex that I never got over and, just as with an ex, I don’t want her to know that I miss her, that I still need our friendship. I spent years trying to come to terms with events of 2002-2004 and of the 4 people I lost in the twelve month period ending in November 2003, she was the one who hurt the most and the longest.

To put this into perspective of quite how sad and pathetic I am, my father died in that 12 month period but losing my ex-friend hurt me more. Maybe it was because I didn’t see her leaving me, I knew my father would. Maybe it was because I thought my best friend would be just that for the rest of my life, unfortunately parents aren’t supposed to be in your life forever. Maybe it’s simply because as far as I really remember she chose to leave my life, my father never did.

Maybe it was because the majority of friends I had at the time, that I would have classed as joint friends, sided with her. Now, as far as I know we never argued so it wasn’t as if people sided with her because I was in the wrong. There are some things that I did in retaliation which might cause people to side with the ex-friend, but I never told my side. Throught out the years when it was happening and still raw, I never spoke to any mutual friend about she and I. At the time, we had been together at school, college and university so all of my friends were hers. But it was the newer ones that vanished from my life overnight and I have no idea as to the true, real reason. Eventually I did speak to two friends who had actually known her longer, but it was only because I needed to see if they saw it too. They didn’t at the time, but later it happened to them – she abandoned them, too.

It was those newer friends though, that stopped being my friend just because she and I had grown apart, that I actually wouldn’t give the time of day to now. They chose to side with her, to end a friendship with me but continue it with her. Perhaps they were lied to, perhaps they never liked me, perhaps they were young, too, and made a decision. Funny how years later, I can’t seem to remember the exact details of what happened with the ex-friend, but I can remember how those girls stopped being my friends. I miss her, and it hurts. I would still forgive the years and have my best friend back. I could never be more than passing acquaintances with them.

So, at my friend’s birthday soon, I will come face to face with someone I still wish I had and I there’s nothing I can do about it. Time most certainly hasn’t healed my heart. I have come to terms with it a bit more, but I think I just needed to admit to the entire world why I’m anxious about a party. I needed to clarify that it isn’t because I’m full of hate and bile. I needed to admit the truth.

I have to say that I’m hoping by admitting something that’s been niggling at me for, I don’t know how long, it might actually help my apprehension over my amazing friend’s upcoming birthday and might help lift my worthless mood.

I still just don’t have the answer though: How do you get over your best friend?

~ Persephone M
P.S. Apologies again for any formatting issues. Sent by email!

Why I’m In Pain

I got thinking the other day as to what exactly laparoscopy means. I assumed scopy to be look, but could not figure out the laparo part.

So I googled. Well, I wiki’d and, to quote: “from Greek lapara, “flank or loin”, and skopein, “to see, view or examine”“. I just thought that was interesting, is all!

I had a diagnostic laparoscopy to see if there were any problems within me that could be preventing me from becoming pregnant. I’ve already had an x-ray with dye to check my fallopian tubes (HSG) and the laparoscopy is the final test. I passed.

Finally, I passed at something seeing as I fail to conceive every single freaking month. Woo! But then it occured to me that, to some people, they might not understand why I went for the tests at all.

And it’s possibly those that know me in real life. I’m not yet 30, but I will be by the end of the year and the fertility rates for those in their 20s is 20-25% per month; in the early thirties it drops to 15%. I know that magically, the morning I wake up aged 30, my body will not be suddenly different, but that doesn’t change the fact that I am getting older (yes, I know that everyone is).

A lot of people don’t realise that I’ve been trying for two and a half years. When I say *I*, I mean *we* and include my husband, it’s just me writing this, not *us*.

I can’t remember the stats that my doctor has given me time and time again, but I did find some online which look roughly the same. As you can see from the two percentage rates above (20-25 and 15), the actual chances of becoming pregnant each month are relatively low. Even in the prime age of the twenties, there’s a 1 in 4 or 1 in 5 chance each month. That isn’t that much, really. By the early 30s it drops and it drops another 5% for the late 30s (along with added complications, too).

There’s some more maths for you now: on average (such a lovely word), after a full 12 months, 14% of couples have not conceived. After 24 months, 4.3% of couples have not conceived and, after 36 months, 1.9%. I’m currently in the 4.3% and am hoping in the six months left to make me a 36er, I won’t be that 1.9%.

I guess that I have the worry at the moment that, because I’ve gone fully public with my problems, my hopes, the failings, that some people think I’m jumping the gun. Perhaps some people think that I’ve had these diagnostic tests to simply check myself out before truly trying. Or that after a few months, I got impatient and decided to force things. Or that I got tired of watching everyone else around me having children and just wanted to join the club. Or that I’m a worrier (which I am), and subjected myself to these tests to put my mind at ease.

It was for none of these, it was because my husband and I are 4.3% of couples. Take one hundred couples and put five into a corner – that’s us. In six months I/we could be less than 2. After 4 years, it’s 1% haven’t conceived. After 5, it’s 0.6%. And in two and a half years I’ll be on the path to the over 35’s along with being just 0.6% of couples trying.

I subjected myself to hormone tests, an x-ray, ultrasound and invasive anaesthatised surgery to find out if there’s a reason I’m in the 4.3%. Good news that I’m not, but it doesn’t change the fact that we as a couple could simply have unexplained infertility (15-20% infertile couples are unexplained). I walked into a surgical room feeling so alone and scared, hungry and tired, simply wanting to cry and have my husband still next to me because if we are truly in the 4.3% or the 1.9%, assisted pregnancies are the only way it will ever happen. And there’s no point in paying a huge sum of money for a procedure to conceive if there’s a problem that would render it pointless.

It’s generally accepted that 10% of the population is left-handed. How many left handed people do you know? Cut that in half, or by a factor of 10.

~ Persephone M

Sites used:
http://www.socalfertility.com/age-and-fertility.html
http://www.womens-health.co.uk/infertility2.asp

For You – Poem

For the memories shared,
For the times that you cared,
For the moments you ignore,
For the actions I abhore,
For the time that is lost,
For the vast emotional cost,
For the death in your eyes,
For all of the silly little lies,
For the titles I gave you,
For the privilege of the few,
For you throwing it in my face,
For giving up in the first place,
For the choices you’ve made,
For all the love to finally fade,
For the milestones you miss,
For the final goodbye kiss,
For all of the years,
For all of the tears,
For all of the pain,
For all of the rain,
For the distance you now run,
For the person you’ve become.

© Persephone M 12th March 2012

This came to me earlier on today and started off as something very different. Sometimes things just come to an end, after years of life together and all you could be left with are memories.

A bit different for the usual posts on Monday Memories!

~ Persephone M

Moment in Time

Moment in Time by PersephoneM
Moment in Time, a photo by PersephoneM on Flickr.

Via Flickr:
This is an image of a “light wheel” belonging to the fosters that I had spinning at full speed and caught this ‘moment‘. Very glad I took a series of photos on the night they got it as, by just the next day, both fosters had broken them!