Yelly Writes

Painful wakefulness

I started writing this entry at 23:23.   

I am awake, sitting on my couch and in pain.  I just wanted to stop crying about the pain my back was putting me through.  So I climbed out of bed, walked gingerly out of the bedroom and walked to my front room.  And then sobbed.  

It currently hurts to breath.  But it only hurts on the left side of my body.  My muscles are punishing me for doing something.  I’m not sure what.

So instead of focusing on the pain, I started breathing exercises to push through the pain.  Then I started thinking “Ooooh maybe I can read something to take my mind of trying to forget the pain.”  Because I always think engaging my brain helps me deal with whatever hurts – whether it’s a physical pain or something else. 

So now, I’m blogging.  Which is quite the surprise.  I haven’t actually written anything spontaneously in a very long while.  So in a way, I am thankful for the muscle pain that prompted me to get up.  It doesn’t matter whether or not this post makes sense or is at all positive (I’m writing about pain, so I’m thinking that’s a negative).  What’s important is that I’m writing again.  

I’ve got a few catch up posts to write.  Posts that I started whilst I was at home in the Philippines or in the weeks after I came home.  I need to be a little more disciplined about writing.  It is really like a muscle (hellooooo pain reference!), that needs to be exercised.  The longer I leave writing, the harder it is to approach the writing inertia.

And funnily enough, the only way to fight the writing inertia is to fight against the writing inertia.  What a predicament, eh?

It’s 23:34.  Not bad for 11 minutes work, huh?  It’s not exactly groundbreaking or profound.  But at least I’ve started writing again!

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Yelly Writes

A decade of being lost in England!

“Change occurs slowly. Very often a legal change might take place but the cultural shift required to really accept its spirit lingers in the wings for decades.” ― Sara Sheridan

10 years ago I stepped off a plane at just after 6AM at Heathrow Terminal 5.  10 years ago, I was carrying a Philippine passport.  In July, I received my British passport and in it, confirmation that I was a British citizen.

A lot has happened in 10 years – that equates to 520 weeks or 3,652 and half days or 85,500 hours or 5,130,000 minutes or 307,800,000 seconds.  That’s a lot of moments, a lot of instances and a lot of situations.  It’s been quite a ride so far: I’ve met so many people, I’ve made new friends, lost some, learned about myself and the kind of people I want to surround myself with.  I’ve learned that you can’t please everyone, no matter how hard you try; that the opinions you need to focus on should be the opinions of the “right people” – the people who accept you for you, lift you up and respect your values and sensitivities.  I’ve also learned that you need to take care of yourself first.  Because no one else is going to do it for you, not really.