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Recent entries from caz0rz
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caz0rz 3 years ago

caz0rz 3 years ago

caz0rzMaterial Things don't equal LOVE.

I have this fear – that my child will be the ‘smelly’ kid at school. That he’ll be bullied for being ‘weird’ and different. I know I shouldn’t be thinking about these things when he’s only so young – and we’re not even set on sending him to school just yet – but I can’t help it.

I watched a documentary about parenting a few nights ago on BBC Three and one Mum was holding down three jobs just to buy her children whatever their heart’s desired. The thing is, they weren’t happy once she had bought them everything they wanted from the various toy shops.

I remember having leaky shoes and often times never having socks as a child. I remember my Mum skipping meals so we could eat. I remember being poor and it scares me that my child will have to go through that. My childhood was feeling a bit cold and a bit hungry but always knowing you were loved. My parents weren’t great with budgets or paying off their debts (I remember several times having to switch the TV off and hide when various people came to our door asking for money.)

At the time, it was a bit of fun, however when I look back now I can’t believe how thinly stretched my parents must have truly been. My Mum always had a job, my Dad always had two jobs. It was crazy and it still seems crazy to me. I’ve learned to NEVER get into debt – and so far I’ve managed it (other than student loan debt.)

I don’t take out credit cards, I don’t buy things on credit and I most certainly don’t buy things I can’t afford. We never go on holiday as a family because we can’t afford it right now. I don’t live for the thrills and pay the consequences later; I think things through carefully. And it’s this thinking through carefully that I am worried about; I worry I hold on too tight to my cash. I hate spending money because I fear it will all disappear.

I know that material things don’t equal love and I know I’d rather be debt free than up to my neck in problems. 3 years ago

caz0rzIt's not difficult to be good.

It’s not a difficulty to be a good Mum, but it’s hard to benchmark the good.

You could be doing everything you think and feel is right all to learn you’re doing it wrong – that is the nature of parenting.

I was reading a book about a very dedicated mother who cared for her daughter for 17 years and although she was entirely dedicated and caring, she felt there were things she’d done wrong and things she wanted to do differently. I was shocked to read that because I’m not sure that there’s much more she could have done – and for the first time in a long time gave me hope about humanity.

I think my own Mum gave up on doctors and health care professionals because she was scared to rock the boat after my brother nearly died from a serious illness. I think as well that she didn’t expect illness – or that if illness occurred then everyone recovered from it. As I know now that is just not true. I’m still recovering from a tissue infection I developed last year and I’m fighting every day with new infections and illnesses, but I’m trying to be a good parent. Even on days where all I do is throw up, I’m trying to do what I think is the best.

Part of that is also looking after myself and a lot of past generations didn’t do that – they always put the children first, sometimes to the detriment of a relationship or themselves. I think that’s a counter-productive action in a ‘good’ parent as kids can become very selfish and expect a lot from parents who are willing to behave this way. 3 years ago

caz0rz 3 years ago

caz0rz 3 years ago


Precisely correct! :) 3 years ago

caz0rzOn: Anger.

I watched my son explode into fits of rage the other day. The first part of him to fall down on the ground was his body; head first, then the legs began to flail helplessly around. Communication through kicking. And punching at the air.

Screaming began and I didn’t know what to do. His anger and frustration is fairly fresh and without proper lines of communication through talking I can’t really ever properly deduce what is going on with him and what got him to this stage of annoyance.

Is he annoyed? Is he angry? Is he frustrated? Or is it all three? It’s really hard to tell so I boil it down to all three emotions, with a heavy inclination towards frustration.

I lost my voice last week. I had to use the patchy sign language that I learned as a girl and I made up some of my own signs because my sign language is terrible – and anyway, my husband has basic sign language understanding so it wouldn’t have been a lot of use.

I could croak out a few words of ‘yes’ and ‘no’ but that was fruitless as nodding your head is accepted in place of these two words anyway.

All in all I learned a lesson in not being able to communicate vocally. It is a huge problem for someone who is so used to being able to do so – and for someone who wants to communicate vocally.

Just as it is for my son. A lot of wires were crossed between me and my husband last week – I’m not afraid to say that because it pertains to my point. I couldn’t get my point across and it made me angry. One particular sign came in handy for moments like that ;).

I kept thinking; “He’s doing this on purpose, he’s using my illness and my inability to communicate as an excuse to wind me up.” Luckily I can say that this feeling was completely irrational but at the time it was very real.

It got me very angry and I tried to suppress that feeling. Then I thought about why I was even suppressing my feelings. I think it’s because I have shown my feelings, my anger in the past and even though I have never hurt others as a result of my anger (as far as I know) nor have I damaged property I have been treated as though I have gone too far in my rages.

Seeing the way other people react and respond to situations and seeing their own anger manifest itself I know I am someone not to worry about when it comes to anger. However I have always been treated as though I am a ticking time bomb.

Like I can’t have access to feelings of anger and have to completely close off those feelings. Does that make sense?

To me I find that silly.

I feel as though I have a right to my anger. And a right to express it. After all I do get angry but I am always one step ahead of that anger; I have to be because although I reject the constraints of the past, there has to be some limit to emotions. They can’t just rage on and never end, after all. 3 years ago


“Have higher standards. Trust your bullshit detector. That’s what it’s about.”

Exactly. I love this quote. 3 years ago


“Feminism teaches that to be female is to be wrong and that the only way a woman can make herself right is by destroying all that is female in herself and becoming a fake male. This bizarre ideology of self-denigration, self-contempt, and self-hatred has.”

This really blows my mind that someone in the 21st Century could actually still think or feel this way. Sure, ignorance is abound but if you can work a computer, get on the Internet and post on a website then I assume you can do your homework about feminism.

Your comment shows a lack of understanding for what feminism truly is.

A ‘fake male’? Even the most ignorant feminist will tell you she doesn’t want to become a male, but wants to become herself – whatever that may be; ‘tom boy’, girly girl, neutral grounds female, whatever – and have freedom to be herself.

I grew up being classed as a tom boy and I hated that – one I was not a boy, I was very much a girl; I was born female, a genetic fact and I wanted people to understand that. I also disliked the fact that the things I liked were classed as ‘boy things.’

I think identification is so important to people not least because you really can lose a sense of who you are with so many people pointing fingers to what you are not – in my case I was not a boy, so the term ‘tom boy’ really got to me and it is something that made me question aspects of myself I hadn’t really considered, nor did I need to consider, before.

I think feminism and identity go hand in hand. Feminism is just the idea that women are women – and in turn that women are PEOPLE who deserve the same rights and opportunities as everyone else.

I trust that you will go away and do your own research because your comment was very misinformed :). 3 years ago


I really liked your comment! And agree with everything you said.

I’ll get round to a proper response but something popped into my head when my Aunt asked how I was. I said I felt like crap. Her reply?

“Oh but you LOOK so well.”
Me: “Yeah but I don’t FEEL it.”
Her: “But you honestly look so good.”

It was as though she couldn’t accept my answer! Haha. It went on and on like that for a good 5 minutes and it made me think “why do people even ask this question?!”

I hate the way people speak to children, that’s honestly SO rude and totally ridiculous. What a complete farce, too.

I don’t think kids should be little brats and they need to be guided, but they also need respect and love just as adults do. They need to feel valued and important.

We coo and ‘awww’ over little babies and toddlers but once they hit the 5 year mark they become ‘little pests.’ An inconvenience, even, and that really annoys me. 3 years ago


Someone I know has ME. I’ve known this for some time and haven’t gone out of my way to speak to them.

I’m always scared because I don’t want to hear; “But I’m worse than you” disguised in the conversation when they have no idea what my life is like.

I do think I’m different to a lot of the things I read about ME, but then I know I am not. It’s a weird feeling. I push myself way too much and pay hell for it every time, but I can’t help it. I JUST WANT TO BE NORMAL!

Anyway…this someone I know is supposed to be calling me up sometime and I am scared. I’ve spoke to them millions of times before and it’s not a big deal but 1. they thought you could cure ME eating dark chocolate and 2. I’m scared I won’t know what to say and will spend much of the time reassuring them – I always seem to do that a lot on the phone, always dodging conversations about myself and delving deeper into other’s problems just to avoid my own.

So, yep. If they call I will update on how it went. It will probably be better than I thought… 3 years ago

caz0rzI've done nothing. Literally.

I’ve been so swamped with pain in every joint, muscle and available space in my body that I haven’t even thought about ME Club (the support group.)

It just hasn’t been on my mind at all. I shower once a week if I’m lucky. And I have more crap to deal with from the government on Friday where I will be called a big fat liar and told to get on with it. I’m not looking forward to it as a phone call to a certain department – in which the person on the other end kept asking me a series of questions he had no right to hear the answers too.

It drains me so much when people treat me like crap. But I’d like to meet more people who suffer with this illness.

Sometimes I wake up thinking I’m okay and that everything is fine. Then I realise other people can shower no problem, they can go outside and do tasks that would take me an awful long time to do.

One foot in front of the other time right now. 3 years ago


Etsy…I have mixed feelings about this place.

Scots Gaelic I also have mixed feelings about…I had an ex boyfriend who was trying to learn it. It made me laugh. We sometimes pop on a Padraig Post (Postman Pat in Gaelic) for my son annnd there was a really cool show on at Christmas set in the Highlands, all about a little girl who climbed into this chest her grandfather had and she’d travel back in time. It was kick ass and all in Gaelic.

Another show I used to watch on iPlayer was ‘Afrik.’ (I think that’s the spelling, it’s pronounced ‘A-freak’ and I found that whole heartedly amusing because I am a geek like that :).

iPlayer is a good source for Gaelic programmes and I’ve found myself picking up on words here and there pretty easily after watching some of the shows. 3 years ago


Ahhhh! This is definitely the problem I have.

I love to help others but I somehow struggle to help myself. It’s not that I’m putting others before me, it’s just I will spend more time with people problem solving them through their issues and then I work everything out for myself, usually on my own.

My own husband doesn’t even have that much input into my life and there’s even things I have stopped talking to him about because I KNOW he can’t help.

It’s annoying because I hate living like a nomad…solving it all myself. I need to ask for help. My teachers were constantly telling me this all throughout my school life, then at Uni. I know it’s a massive flaw because I need to lean on others….but I just can’t! 3 years ago

caz0rzdamn hard.

I find it so damn hard to tell my parents that I love them. And my siblings. And my extended family. I find it reaaaaalllly hard, in fact. I hate saying it and I have no idea why. It just either doesn’t seem enough or comes off as though I am saying it out of duty.

And I know I’m not. I can’t even take this post seriously because I know if I do that I am admitting I have feelings. I really do.

I try to stifle my feelings a lot. I don’t cry at funerals because I don’t “do” that. I remember when I was pregnant and at church, we were singing Christmas hymns and I felt so moved that I began to cry. I put my head right down and hid my tears and I got soooo embarrassed when one woman gave me this “its okay to cry!” look.

I think it’s okay to cry and more so in public but somehow for myself I have other rules and ideas.

When people ask me how I am I hate saying how I really feel – because I know it’s a duty bound question. I remember when I was younger I would let my tongue run wild and say “I’m really crap, how are you?” with a big smile on my face and everyone thought I was kidding around. I just got sick of that British ‘how are you?’ BS that everyone buys into.

I don’t know what people think of me but I often get the impression that I’m some unfeeling freak. Every one I know is over sensitive and over emotional – and I used to be but I suppose I curbed that side of my personality.

I want to share myself openly, with people I care about. 3 years ago

caz0rz 3 years ago


Thank you for the link! :) Something like that would be great,

I think mostly my problems are that I feel so limited with my camera – it has a fixed lens that drives me crazy! It’s too small! :/.

I don’t know if I should buy a new camera. But I might just go and do it. 3 years ago

caz0rzI need to finish.

A while ago I signed up for an on-line freelance editing course. Why? So I can work from home and eventually phase out my income I rely on now (which isn’t at all stable.) I want to earn my own income and I know doing editorial pieces for clients will present it’s own stress – but it’s a stress I can manage if it means income.

However, to get to this point, it means a lot of work on my part. Part of that ‘work’ is to complete this dastardly (sorry I couldn’t think of any other adjectives there!) course. Signed, sealed and delivered.

I’ve worked up to the first 4 or so chapters, so I need to get it done.

I’ll work out the finer details of when and how but I will do this. In 2011. If I don’t, I have to pay the fee’s all over again! I’m not doing that. 3 years ago

caz0rzExperience with raw.

Me and raw food have a history.

A while ago I heard how good raw food was for a person’s gut – and at the time I had gut troubles aplenty. That life seems so alien to the life I have now, in a lot of ways.

Back then I could throw together a meal a couple of times a week and all the other times I would ask people to cook me things – usually processed, frozen yuck.

I then got into raw smoothies – a lot.

I was having them before meals (back when I was a healthy appetite person) and loving it. Anything with mango or strawberry was my favourite. Raw spinach is lovely, too! ;) honest. And we all know Popeye grew muscles with spinach, so it must be good!

Then I moved to London. I actually lived with a vegetarian family who were vegan-curious and the Dad of the family (I used to refer to them as ‘My Family’ so don’t be weirded out, oh and did I mention I also worked for them?) used to make really good smoothies. Using honey. But, of course, he would make my smoothie then make smoothies for everyone else, honey excluded from mine – yes I am one of those vegans who excludes honey from their diet.

Anyway, in short, I was eating better – no more processed nonsense, for a start (well, maybe a little bit of cheeze here and there followed with some vegan Magnum style ice creams. My poor intestine probably wondered what hit it.)

Then I got a new job and with it I moved into a new place. This was HELL on Earth. I lost a bucket worth of weight and dropped about three or four dress sizes – ridiculous. I felt like a skeleton, but a very heavy and tired skeleton. I have pictures of that time frame in my life and let’s just say a few of my friends were tres worried when they saw the photos. I’d lost pounds in weeks and my waist was getting smaller and smaller.

One week I would get into a small dress size barely and the next week it would be too big. It was terrifying and not at all nice. I was happier when I weighed more; I felt more confident and ‘me.’ I know this is probably a shield as I never feel weight equals happiness – if it did then anorexics would be constantly happy once they dropped to their goal weight, but the goal posts keep shifting and the happiness moves further and further into the horizon.

I think my problem was simple. I wasn’t choosing to lose weight, I was just losing it. I would work and go to Uni all day then when the day was over around 8pm I couldn’t be bothered to breathe let alone eat. I wasn’t underweight at all but I didn’t feel healthy with the way I’d got to be the weight I was.

My problem was double pronged; I wasn’t eating enough and I didn’t have the energy to eat. Whole weekends would go past and all I’d choked down was a sandwich or a bunch of grapes. I remember one weekend I didn’t eat at all. It was killing me and I could feel it doing that. How scary!

I NEVER want to go back to times like that, they were utterly miserable. I had to retrain myself on eating again and I’d forgotten to cook, too – it came back in dribs and drabs. I took about a year to recover from that time and in that year I got pregnant. I had to MAKE myself eat, even when I would rather be sleeping. This baby couldn’t die and I was going to do everything so I didn’t feel responsible if, God forbid, something did go wrong.

It was when I was pregnant that we got back to simple cooking and I felt very healthy…then my husband got very sick indeed and we ended up eating out of packets (because I just found it so hard to put my socks in the morning let alone cook.) I felt annoyed he was sick and so depressed from all the bad mood food we were eating – lots of bread (which I am happy to avoid in general) and pasta.

We ate better and better as he got better and better, but it was a slow process and I was never sure how each phase would last so I always prepared for worst case scenario; my husband is lazy in general so his laziness was magnified. And yes, I did want to stove his head in with a brick :).

My Mum then stayed with us for a month – bliss. Food three times a day, which was great as I was breastfeeding and couldn’t get enough of food. And it was good, wholesome stuff because my Mum is cool like that.

I then started experiencing some gut troubles again – so in my panic I searched for raw food recipes. We had several dishes and I felt fantastic (gut wise) after each one. 3 years ago

caz0rzMy answer:

I’m never going to have an answer for how your family treat you, that lies with them, but in my own experience what I have found worked is confrontation.

I know this isn’t for everyone and there is definitely a time and place.

When I was 18 I took a massive overdose and my parents stood back and did nothing.

They were ashamed and covered it up. It’s really that simple.

If that were me and Roman, it would be straight to the hospital.

I confronted them about this when I was 21. I told them how much it hurt that they could sit back and do nothing. I braced myself for their dismissal, but my Dad actually apologised and explained he’d panicked and done the worst thing possible. We had a really long chat about my depression after that and although I don’t think he understood it, I do think he understood me.

Talking about these issues is hard, especially in a family like ours. I had this false impression that you always had to be happy and to be anything other than that was showing a weakness. Bull.

With ME, it’s different. I remember years ago my Dad asked me to do something for him and he got back home and I hadn’t done it because it had been a really terrible day for me.

I broke down and ranted about how much pain I was in and he just sort of looked at me like ‘wow I never realised.’ When I was living in London we spent more time talking and listening to each other. We also spent a lot of time emailing and I would just tell him all this health related stuff. Another thing was that I was going for all kinds of tests; scans, blood and urine that it kept his interest and made him concerned.

I told him I had ME and he said “Yeah I have heard of it before.” I wasn’t sure to make of that, but I decided to take it as a positive – after all he’d asked. Nowadays (and because of me starting the project I did) he asks me before he’ll ask me anything else. It’s such a change to how things used to be but I honestly believe that’s down to communication.

My Dad used to be very socially awkward in his teens – hiding in his room with books when people came by lol – and he’s had to learn a lot of this stuff as an adult. He’s a very confident person, but he’s had to learn that also. I like to think I’ve been a part of that learning curve, haha.

I don’t really know if that helps, though, but that’s my situation.

So the Four Hour Work Week…when I saw it I totally dismissed it away. I thought ‘That looks like such crap!’ and laughed because Bryan had bothered to take it out of the library. But we quickly learned things about business (we had wanted to start an on-line shop) we’d never known…and just general philosophies we hadn’t even considered.

I think our focus back then was money and how to get packets of it…whereas this book tells you people don’t want money, they want opportunities and life experience and think money can get you that, not always true. 3 years ago


I don’t know how well I raised awareness…

I tried to do a 31 project with photos but well, that flopped within a few days. I couldn’t keep up.

I hope to come back next year with something bigger and better :D. 3 years ago

caz0rz 3 years ago

caz0rzLaughing on the inside.

I had a day yesterday very much like yours…at least the description.

I was really annoyed at night time because of my neighbour, upstairs boozing his head off and me down here trying to live a life.

I bawled like a baby after I had a massive rant about my life and the things I haven’t done with it – yes me, with the marriage and baby. When others question if they’ll EVER have that.

Thing is, both those things were so hard for me and I want to shout it out to the World. IT WAS DIFFICULT TO BE AT PEACE WITH THE DECISION TO MARRY.

It was also SO difficult to come to terms with being pregnant – not only that but the physical impact it has.

It was hard. My wedding day was so easy, but the recovery after it was not. I want to scream at people that I had to go to hospital a week after I was married, that I spent that week in agony. That I will probably never have a honeymoon. We’re also waiting for some church stuff to happen, too.

And it’s all on my shoulders. it’s all dependent upon ME and M.E – ha.

Sorry if this is a rant, it totally is…but people just don’t get it. They truly DO NOT get it.

I love my life, don’t get me wrong, but I am more than entitled to say it’s not fair, that I want things to be different – even Jesus asked God if they could make the sacrifice in a different way when he was in the throes of it all.

I don’t really know how this is related to anything and I think I’m on a tangent hahaha…but…I think it comes down to being numb. Being numb and in denial is an option, but not a good one – for both the sickie and the non sickie.

I was in so much denial. I used to wake up thinking ‘I have ME! :(!’ I even avoided speaking about it…but screw that. I’m just living up to what everyone else wants – what about what I want? And further than that, what about what other sufferers NEED? Representation and understanding. 3 years ago


Yay! :)

I bet you feel like the pic now you’ve done it…haha…I know I do. 3 years ago


caz0rz 3 years ago

caz0rzGuess what?

I’ve done it!

I just decided to edit it all last night – I have been doing some editing for weeks now but I finally put it all together last night (well, this morning.)

My neighbour was up partying and I couldn’t sleep through the noise, so I completed our little film project. I’ve spent MONTHS on this – I’ve been getting bits of film since January and I am so happy it’s done :).

I’m waiting for Vimeo to give it the okay, then it will be all ready for everyone to see :).

Until then, check this out: 3 years ago

caz0rzDo you know what I HATE!?

I hate when I am forgotten about. Not considered. Dismissed. Not valued. Unseen.

This invisible illness makes you invisible and people pretend they include you in things when in all reality…they don’t.

I am sick. I am DISabled. Not LESS abled or SEMI abled. I accept it, I’ve said, I can take it on the chin – why can’t you? And by ‘you’ I mean those that can’t.

Tonight I had a melt down. I kept saying how I need to be mentally strong in everything I do because I lack it physically. Is this even true? Does it sound screwed up?

I don’t think I’ve been happier than I am now…but I don’t think I’ve been this demobilised in so long.

If you know someone, anyone, who is ‘different’ (aren’t we all?) because of their illness and disability, how do you treat them?

I’m going to be the first to admit that I find some disabilities very unsettling. I am not used to them, they are not my norm and I don’t know how people want me to ‘be’ with them. I try my best just to be myself, because that’s who I am.

I am not overly nice or gawking at them. I am just plain old me. Happy go lucky with a side order of weird.

I remember when I was six years old and I went shopping with my Aunt there was a boy in a wheelchair and he was drooling. I couldn’t stop looking at him because he was different to most people I knew. My Aunt told me to stop staring, it was rude.

Thing is, I had no malice in my interest. It was genuine curiosity.

I know it’s awkward when kids say or do things; i.e “Mummy, why is that lady so FAT!?” or “Daddy, why is that man so OLD and wrinkled?” but should we be so quick to shush them?

Don’t they have a right to have their questions answered?

And are we sweeping people under the rug when we refuse to answer these questions and dismiss it as rude or nosey?

After all, we’re quick to compliment people on their being thin, but we’re not allowed to say someone is fat. We’re allowed to say how great someone looks and how young they look, yet we’re not allowed to say someone is old and looks great.

I find this the same for disabilities. We’re not allowed to ask questions because we’re taught it’s rude to ask. When asking is what opens doors and minds.

Instead, it’s instant dismissal and decision making for you. Because it’s to protect your feelings. To spare you. To help you.

I call bullshizz. 3 years ago

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