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Celebrating Eight Years of Blogging!
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Eight years ago, I was trying to make sense of traumatic events that were shaping my world. 2015 was not the greatest year of my life, but it was, however, one that would teach me much about people and the lengths they will go to, to cause harm to others. Darrell and I went through a torrid time; abused and attacked by people we thought were friends and colleagues, we made a life-changing decision to leave Britain and restart our life far away from the nightmare engulfing our every waking hour.
We both had good jobs, worked hard, and did our best to help others when we could. We had a lot of people around us, some good, some bad, but as we stumbled through that painful thing called life, we felt happy and secure with the characters that made up our close circle of friends. These were positive people in the main, and as our circumstances changed, and my health began to suffer, we were lucky enough to have the support of some truly amazing individuals.
It was difficult to understand what was happening to me, and even harder to determine just who to trust. I was aware that something strange was happening, but I just couldn’t understand what. Writing down my thoughts and feelings, was a way of coming to terms with situations that were beyond my control. It allowed me to express my emotions in a way I wouldn't otherwise have been able to. The turmoil that was overwhelming me, was difficult to fathom, but by documenting events, I could begin to discover the reasons behind my immense feeling of sadness.
I have written much about that time in 2015 - not all of it legible, much of it rambling, and all of it difficult to reread. The bullying that made me who I am today, had been methodically collated in abraded unedited paragraphs, that painted a picture of mistreatment and intimidation. Even today, I haven’t read my original blog; the trauma I suffered is just too recent, and the effects too raw.
The decisions Darrell and I made in 2015 were the catalyst for a journey we are both still on today. After a life spent together in the UK, we decided to sell up, move away and leave Britain for good. After our marriage in September 2015, we embarked on a new life in Spain, and the darkness that surrounded my first blog all but disappeared. I continued to write about the confusing occurrences, that prompted our departure with gusto, but my melancholia had turned into anger and rage at what had happened. In beautiful, idyllic surroundings, I was able to sit with a clear head, and finally understand just what brought me to Spain.
Spain was an enlightening experience, it finally gave me a reason to live again. I was the happiest I had been in a long time and the stress and depression of 2015 gradually began to diminish and dwindle, finally subsiding into obscurity, as my new life in Gran Alacant became my priority.
Writing about my adventure on the Costa Blanca became a cleansing and cathartic exercise. Each day, I wrote about the mundane aspects of Spain, the cost of living, friends and the milestones that became so important, as I integrated into Expat life. Even when Darrell had to return home to Australia, while his Mother went through treatment for cancer, I still wrote - engaging, contented words linked to a country and a dream I could finally call home. This was the most free I had felt in years, and I was finally doing what I wanted, not what others expected me to do.
Our Spanish dream was not meant to be, and I was just grateful to have lived there, for as long as I did. As Darrell's Mother got worse and my Mum was taken into hospital, we left Gran Alacant, Darrell returning to Australia, me moving in with my Aunt in the UK, to be close to my Mum during the final years of her life. I was back in a Country I despised, but surrounded by loved ones, and I made the most of what I had left.
I spend four productive years in Portsmouth, surviving against all the odds, building up a substantial amount of money during the pandemic and working in a job I loved. Even while working, often long unsociable hours, I was able to keep writing and documenting some truly historic times. The streets were empty, businesses were closed, and I explored a city I knew little about, despite being born there in 1971.
The years I spent with family were bitter-sweet. In the main, they were good; I got to know my Aunt and Cousins well and loved every minute I spent with them. All of them gave me a reason to live, especially when Darrell was trapped in Australia at the height of the pandemic. I celebrated some important landmarks with my kin folk, my 25th wedding anniversary and my 50th Birthday and despite the sadness I felt, not having Darrell with me, I was content with family who supported and loved me.
Like most good things in life, times changed, and the fruitful, hard-working period I enjoyed in Portsmouth turned sour. Suddenly, the people I loved were no longer there. Affection turned to hate and resentment and by the time Darrell returned to the UK, my days in Portsmouth were already numbered. Once again, my blogging turned dark as unhappiness and dejection became the prominent feature in my life. It was time to move on and leave the past behind. Even the ones you love the most can hurt you, but I wasn’t in the mood for forgiveness, and I am glad to be away from people who made my final months in the UK some of the most hurtful and miserable in my life.
Of course, it didn’t all end so badly; I made some amazing friends in Portsmouth who will always be with me. They were the saving grace and a reason to write happy and uplifting thoughts, even during the most upsetting of times. The closing few weeks before we left for Australia were filled with love, laughter and unforgettable memories; everything else didn’t matter any more. We could leave with our heads held high on the final leg of our eight-year journey and a desire to finally be free.
When faced with unsurmountable challenges, Darrell and I always walk away. Both of us hate confrontation and with the stability that kept us together as a family crumbling, it was once again time to say goodbye. Australia is the final stop on a deeply personal and challenging eight years. When I decided to start blogging in 2015, I could never have predicted where I would be today. In April 2023, Darrell and I are living the quiet life down under; both of us have fantastic jobs and have bought a new home together. As our eyes look towards the future, I remember the immortal words I wrote all those years ago ‘ live life better, achieve everything you desire and don’t let the bad times destroy your future.’ We have done this unreservedly and continue to strive for prosperity in this unforgiving World!
... And finally, I would like to wish all my readers a very happy Easter, and thank you for your continual support!
We both had good jobs, worked hard, and did our best to help others when we could. We had a lot of people around us, some good, some bad, but as we stumbled through that painful thing called life, we felt happy and secure with the characters that made up our close circle of friends. These were positive people in the main, and as our circumstances changed, and my health began to suffer, we were lucky enough to have the support of some truly amazing individuals.
It was difficult to understand what was happening to me, and even harder to determine just who to trust. I was aware that something strange was happening, but I just couldn’t understand what. Writing down my thoughts and feelings, was a way of coming to terms with situations that were beyond my control. It allowed me to express my emotions in a way I wouldn't otherwise have been able to. The turmoil that was overwhelming me, was difficult to fathom, but by documenting events, I could begin to discover the reasons behind my immense feeling of sadness.
I have written much about that time in 2015 - not all of it legible, much of it rambling, and all of it difficult to reread. The bullying that made me who I am today, had been methodically collated in abraded unedited paragraphs, that painted a picture of mistreatment and intimidation. Even today, I haven’t read my original blog; the trauma I suffered is just too recent, and the effects too raw.
The decisions Darrell and I made in 2015 were the catalyst for a journey we are both still on today. After a life spent together in the UK, we decided to sell up, move away and leave Britain for good. After our marriage in September 2015, we embarked on a new life in Spain, and the darkness that surrounded my first blog all but disappeared. I continued to write about the confusing occurrences, that prompted our departure with gusto, but my melancholia had turned into anger and rage at what had happened. In beautiful, idyllic surroundings, I was able to sit with a clear head, and finally understand just what brought me to Spain.
Spain was an enlightening experience, it finally gave me a reason to live again. I was the happiest I had been in a long time and the stress and depression of 2015 gradually began to diminish and dwindle, finally subsiding into obscurity, as my new life in Gran Alacant became my priority.
Writing about my adventure on the Costa Blanca became a cleansing and cathartic exercise. Each day, I wrote about the mundane aspects of Spain, the cost of living, friends and the milestones that became so important, as I integrated into Expat life. Even when Darrell had to return home to Australia, while his Mother went through treatment for cancer, I still wrote - engaging, contented words linked to a country and a dream I could finally call home. This was the most free I had felt in years, and I was finally doing what I wanted, not what others expected me to do.
Our Spanish dream was not meant to be, and I was just grateful to have lived there, for as long as I did. As Darrell's Mother got worse and my Mum was taken into hospital, we left Gran Alacant, Darrell returning to Australia, me moving in with my Aunt in the UK, to be close to my Mum during the final years of her life. I was back in a Country I despised, but surrounded by loved ones, and I made the most of what I had left.
I spend four productive years in Portsmouth, surviving against all the odds, building up a substantial amount of money during the pandemic and working in a job I loved. Even while working, often long unsociable hours, I was able to keep writing and documenting some truly historic times. The streets were empty, businesses were closed, and I explored a city I knew little about, despite being born there in 1971.
The years I spent with family were bitter-sweet. In the main, they were good; I got to know my Aunt and Cousins well and loved every minute I spent with them. All of them gave me a reason to live, especially when Darrell was trapped in Australia at the height of the pandemic. I celebrated some important landmarks with my kin folk, my 25th wedding anniversary and my 50th Birthday and despite the sadness I felt, not having Darrell with me, I was content with family who supported and loved me.
Like most good things in life, times changed, and the fruitful, hard-working period I enjoyed in Portsmouth turned sour. Suddenly, the people I loved were no longer there. Affection turned to hate and resentment and by the time Darrell returned to the UK, my days in Portsmouth were already numbered. Once again, my blogging turned dark as unhappiness and dejection became the prominent feature in my life. It was time to move on and leave the past behind. Even the ones you love the most can hurt you, but I wasn’t in the mood for forgiveness, and I am glad to be away from people who made my final months in the UK some of the most hurtful and miserable in my life.
Of course, it didn’t all end so badly; I made some amazing friends in Portsmouth who will always be with me. They were the saving grace and a reason to write happy and uplifting thoughts, even during the most upsetting of times. The closing few weeks before we left for Australia were filled with love, laughter and unforgettable memories; everything else didn’t matter any more. We could leave with our heads held high on the final leg of our eight-year journey and a desire to finally be free.
When faced with unsurmountable challenges, Darrell and I always walk away. Both of us hate confrontation and with the stability that kept us together as a family crumbling, it was once again time to say goodbye. Australia is the final stop on a deeply personal and challenging eight years. When I decided to start blogging in 2015, I could never have predicted where I would be today. In April 2023, Darrell and I are living the quiet life down under; both of us have fantastic jobs and have bought a new home together. As our eyes look towards the future, I remember the immortal words I wrote all those years ago ‘ live life better, achieve everything you desire and don’t let the bad times destroy your future.’ We have done this unreservedly and continue to strive for prosperity in this unforgiving World!
... And finally, I would like to wish all my readers a very happy Easter, and thank you for your continual support!
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