2012

I have been intending for several days to write a final post of 2012, summarising my year's major worries and advance-mentioning some upcoming concerns that I predict I shall be worrying about in the New Year.  However, it being the season of extreme gluttony, it has been difficult to tear myself away from the temptations of the kitchen to concentrate on the laptop for any real period of time.  So I have chosen today, 31st December 2012, to finally cast away the Jaffa Cakes and write some choice words to sum up the year that I have had.

In an uncharacteristic display of optimism I have decided not to focus on the negatives of the year gone by (and believe me they are many and varied) and try instead to remember the wonderful moments and the occasions by which I would prefer to remember 2012.

Firstly, the birth of several nephews and nieces (of the non-genetically linked variety): so many of my friends chose 2012 to be the year to produce offspring (or more offspring) and Christmas has really reminded me of the delight that is to be had from spending time with my friends and family and their progeny, safe in the knowledge that I can give them back afterwards.  Ten years ago I would have imagined that I would be sharing the early years of their childrens' lives with children of my own, but this has not been the way my life has panned out thus far.  I'm sure that I will not always be the barren Aunty who visits and dotes upon everyone elses' children for want of children of her own, but for the time being it is a joy to see others' little ones and know that I am glad to be a part of their lives.

Secondly, the awesomeness that was a summer of British sporting success with the Olympics and Paralympics.  I have written in earlier blogs of the life-changing experiences London 2012 brought to me, and I hope that for the rest of my life remembering the year 2012 will induce memories of the warmth, togetherness and healthy patriotism that the Olympics and Paralympics instilled. 

Thirdly, the rediscovery of my love of swimming and the personal challenge I undertook to raise money and awareness for Rheumatoid Arthritis.  I refuse to let RA become the bane of my life - it is something that I have and will have forever so why let it ruin things?  Sure, some things just aren't the same and never will be, but I am proud of the fears that I have overcome this year through swimming.  Our final total raised for NRAS is a few pennies short of £1,400 (+ Gift Aid) which is a truly staggering sum for a very normal 29 year old girl and her family to raise by swimming a mile each.  It shows the overwhelming generosity and love of our friends and families and, believe me, every minute that I was swimming I was thinking of all the donations we had received and how this was my chance to show that peoples' faith and support in me was well placed. (OK, every other minute I was thinking about this.  In the other minutes I was thinking about how stupid I was to have EVER suggested such an idiotic idea, and how was I ever going to get to the end?).

Fourthly, this blog.  It may not yet have reached the dizzy heights of other more well known, more highly favoured blogs, but it is my personal triumph.  I love to write it, even if the subject matter is at times a little sketchy, and I love to know that people are enjoying my writing.  If I could just find a way to generate enough income from sitting at home with a cuppa and my slippers on while tap-tap-tapping away at a keyboard I would be a truly happy person.  True, I may find myself a little starved of human contact if that situation were to arise, but I'm sure people would point it out to me if I started to take on too many cat-like characteristics, or lost the ability to string a sentence together in conversation (though some of you may argue that I struggle with this already at times...)

My Dad shared a letter with us over Christmas from his consultant - in two lines saying the best news I had heard in a long time - that he has beaten the myeloma cancer cells that had invaded him.  I managed not to cry in his face - after all it is a happy letter, and one that I feel could be framed, or brought out to cheer up a particularly depressing evening of rubbish TV.  But I think that might be the biggest success of 2012 and puts all and any minor moments of misery that I may have experienced into perspective.

So on that note, I wish you all a Happy New Year! May 2013 bring you all the joy and happiness that you deserve.  Please be assured that I shall resume my normal worrying and cynicism soon and put all this nostlagic cheerfulness behind me.

K x

Writer's Block

Believe me, I do not suffer from writer's block in the classic sense: I can write/talk at any time of day or night at length on almost any subject.  Neither have I been short of subjects worthy of my worry these past few weeks.  The reason for my relative inactivity for the past few weeks has been a combination of a) job hunting and interviewing (so far to no avail, but I have hope) and b) the inability to discuss the most pressing worries in public.  Not, you understand, because I don't know what to say, but because they are not my business to be sharing.

Over the past few weeks I have been deeply involved in some very fraught and upsetting troubles and on many occasions I have wished I could vent my worries and fears on here.  But the Jeremy Kyle-esque temptation to broadcast the woes of others is not my style and not, ultimately, the purpose of this blog.

I have read with interest and revulsion about a US judge who stated that the woman who was raped 'couldn't have protested hard enough' because the female body would stop sex from happening if it really didnt want it.  He admitted he was no gynaecologist but... NO.. no, you are not... clearly.  (idiot)

I have watched with horror the unfolding story of Newtown, Connecticut and the atrocities that happened there; I have read and agreed (or disagreed, depending) on different opinions about what could or would turn the tide of gun crime in the USA in the wake of this horrible tragedy.

I have silently congratulated Wills and Kate on their happy news, actively avoided any involvement in X Factor, Strictly Come Dancing or I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here and indulged my obsession with Homeland.  I have cried as I left my job and colleagues for the final time, taking that inevitable step towards my possible future unemployment; I have worried myself to distraction about how I am going to find a new job in this unsettled economic climate, about how I am going to pay my rent and bills next year; I have been through another set of spinal injections and still feel no lasting difference to my daily pain and discomfort.

But for all the petty worries that I may have had, I have been completely unable to write about them as they have been shadowed by something so much more personally troubling. You know who you are, and you know what I am speaking about, and believe me I wish that my writing about it could solve any of the hardships that you are currently suffering.  In the past few weeks I have gone from joyful and positive through utterly speechless to appalled, disgusted and heartbroken for you.  Somehow today I have found myself able to write, albeit in a guarded way, about this pain and I applaud your strength and hope that a happy resolution will be made quickly for you all.

In the meantime, selfishly, I hope that this temporary 'writer's block' of mine may be eased by this blog and by the catharsis of accepting the reasons for my lack of productivity.  I also hope that a work-from-home job paying 40k lands in my inbox tomorrow, begging me to accept.

K x