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oreopata · 7 years ago

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Ending 2017 - Journal

This has been quite the Christmas, and I don’t necessarily mean a good one. But it’s certainly left me with a lot to think about in terms of how I want my life to change for the new year. So I’m splitting this journal into three sections. Before leaving for London, Christmas in London and my thoughts for the New Year and having returned home. If you’ve been keeping up to date with my tumblr, you’ll probably already have a good idea about what this Christmas was like for me. But I have plenty more to say. I’ve split the journal into three sections: covering pre-christmas, Christmas in London and my New years plans. Brace yourself, I’m afraid this is going to be a lengthy one.

1. Pre-Christmas oop North:

I knew that for the actual Christmas, my parents and I would be traveling down London to have Christmas with my paternal grandparents. Until then, I was really enjoying my time at home and really getting into the Christmas spirit - in spite of my financial limitations. I felt cosy as hell at home with my Christmas lights and treating myself to chocolate. Along with the amazing time I spent with my friends and my art class.

I honestly had a blast getting into the Christmas spirit while I was home. I’d really pushed the boat out this year. Got some new lights in, bought a few new decorations. The new decorations included some more fairy lights, a nutcracker and a lovely wooden star light I’ve got sitting in the window. I’m hoping to buy more fairy lights. Since I’ve noticed a trend amongst people my own age to have them as part of the decor. I can certainly get behind that idea. I felt really cosy as I sat in my living room, now illuminated by the aforementioned lights, along with a couple tea-lights, while watching Wallace and Gromit.

Speaking of nutcrackers: I’ve mentioned this before, but I feel I might as well while I’m here, just this last time. My baby nephew is currently obsessed with a nutcracker holding a drum kit that his parents got him. He’s not even two years old and he’s already being very careful with it and doing things like getting tissues to wipe it’s nose and look after it. None of which his parents have taught him to do. But the clever little fella is full of surprises. Not only that, but as they got some miniature nutcrackers for the tree, they haven’t out them on the tree. He keeps them with him and plays with them. Also, his parents let him keep a festive cup from Costa Coffee which had a nutcracker print on it. So he uses it to drink milk out of when he’s home. A cup I’ve also acquired for myself on my trip back home.

He refers to T.K Max as “The Nutcracker shop”. You should hear the immense excitement as he says “NUTCRACKEEEERRR!!!” Show him something with a nutcracker on it and his face just lights up! You can bet that when I wrapped-up his presents, I made sure to find the cutest wrapping paper covered in nutcrackers.

All this has lead to me going back to the original story, The Nutcracker & The Mouse King by E.T.A Hoffman; Which the Tchaikovsky ballet was based on. I bough this most beautiful book and I couldnt help but show him. He was delighted. The second I put it in his hands to show him, he made a hop, skip and a jump straight to my dad (‘Cos he bloody loves his grandad), climbed up on the couch next to him and asked him to read it. Of course, my dad wasn’t going to make any attempt to read a more detailed novella like this one. So he resorted to describing the pictures to him.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/1786330636/ref=oh_aui_detailpage_o02_s00?ie=UTF8&psc=1

 His obsession soon became my own as I just had to buy one for myself. As creepy as they kind of look, there’s something undeniably charming about them. Now I’m just in love with the things. I bought a silver one holding a staff and a Christmas tree and a smaller blue one with a crown which I’ve really drown fond of. I got him in TK Max.

Along with this most beautiful wooden Geisha statue with fabric glued on over the carvings for her clothes. She reminds me a lot of something out of Kubo and the Two Strings, which I love.

I also had fun by setting up a Christmas drinking game. Wherein you stick a hat on the corner of the telly and every time someone perfectly lines up with it to look like they’re wearing it, you take a swig.

I made it a point that I would not leave for London and miss the Christmas buffet my art class was putting on. Even if it possibly meant taking a train down on my own after my parents had left. But it didn’t have to come to that. I had a feeling that this would be a massive highlight of my Christmas, and it kind honestly was.

The night before the class, I spent the day with my friend and he was a tremendous help and blessing in driving me out to get some last minute presents for my paternal grandparents and groceries for myself. We were out for hours and it was certainly a blast. Despite how knackered we were, we got straight onto making the festive chocolate cornflake cakes that I was going to bring to the buffet for the next day. Complete with edible glitter and chocolate snowballs on top. Everyone brought a little something to the table. We both decided to open a Christmas present we got each other. And we had the biggest laugh as he got me a set of three stress balls (which came in very handy). Unbeknownst to him, I had also gotten him some “Stress balls” - As in stress balls made to look like testicles. Words can not describe the hysterics we were in!

On to the buffet itself: We started out the lesson as normal, I was doing some christmasy-themed sketches. That particular day I was continuing with the Kadomatsu. We finished early to start with the buffet. They seemed to go down a treat. The ones that weren’t eaten during the party, I went to the disabled riding school down the road from me for them to feast on. Saving one for my neighbour.

It was a great day! Since I didn’t have a festive jumper, I improvised an outfit with a black, glittery jumper, a red penguin print shirt that I fashioned into a jacket, my late gran’s necklace that look like baubles, reindeer antlers and a red ribbon around my neck. So I could strut in there and be like;

I love going to the class every week. It’s probably the one place I feel like I belong, despite being so out of place at a first glance. It’s such a boost to hear these much more advanced artists say how much they love my work. Telling me how smart and talented I am. How I’ve had a couple instances where I’ve helped my classmates with their art and have even had one of them show interest in commissioning me. I’ve learned to enjoy what I do and get out of my comfort zone. I have a laugh with the people I’m with and I learn from them. It’s helped ease the crippling loneliness I’ve felt since my Gran’s death.

For the upcoming year, I’m hoping that I can really out-do myself. Especially as we will be focusing on doing pieces based around Mining in the North East and hold and exhibition in March.

2. Christmas in London:

It was a little tense going down London. If only for the usual headaches of packing and also worrying about financial strains and trying to pay the rent. I won’t go into detail, but let’s just bureaucracy and other people’s cock-ups can be bloody costly. But all I could do was just hope that the presents I’d gotten everyone would be worth it.

I’m always very mixed on my feelings towards London. As a hardcore northerner, I could never live there. It’s difficult for non-English natives to grasp, but the North and the South are pretty much different planets to us. Both in terms of environment and people. Something I should mention about my myself and my family: I am a mixed-race, Northern English girl. My mother is a white Northerner and my father a black Londoner. I have always lived and grown up in the North with my maternal family + my dad. Everyone on my paternal side of the family lives in London or in the Caribbean. My own dad’s mum and dad coming from St. Lucia and Grenada respectively. Throughout my life I’ve always seen my paternal family on a less regular basis to my maternal family. As a family, taking the 5 to 6 hour drive down on special occasions to visit.

On the other hand, backtracking to my mixed feelings, I adore London for how multi-cultural it is and for it’s visual identity and rich history which is still shows in it’s surface details and flowing through it’s veins. It’s hardly a wonder I chose this city to be the main setting for my graphic novel. Being there helps me feel closer to my characters, as I’m walking the streets they would and seeing what they’d see. I remember the last time I was there, I had a walk round the local Sari shops, picking up a few magazines while I was there. I had a similar experience this time.

Another great advantage about being in an area consisting of a lot of south asians is that their shops will be open over the Christmas period. A shop is literally across the street to my nan’s home, run by a man of the south asian persuasion. He’s lived there for a long time. I’d popped in to grab an ice cream for my sore throat and get an alcoholic present for a visiting aunt. He’d recognised my features due to the striking resemblance I bear to my uncle. The one who currently works in the film industry in L.A. He was excited when he looked at me. While in the shop, I spotted this beautiful, ornate candle and bought it for only £2. I found it to be a comforting purchase. Eager to gain some cultural goods.

Which I needed, considering what I’d soon have to put up with from certain relatives.

I think my first warning sign of things to come were when we first arrived in the area of North London where Nan lives. To which my mum shouted with joy that the Christmas tree was in the town square. Something she didn’t think would be there, given the amount of asians there. She then proceeded to stick two fingers up at what looked like a Sikh-run shop shouting “FUCK YOUS!” Thank god no one saw that. But it was a cringeworthy sight for me. But a mild one compared to what’s to come. Racially insensitive, but perhaps not full-bown racist. That would come later…

Straying a little off topic, one thing that’s always difficult to get used to in my Nan’s house is that it’s so bloody hot! One big different between the North and South is the temperature. I often like to joke about how “You know it’s cold when the Newcastle players have to put on a second string vest.”. My nan seems to insist on having the heating on very high. Made worse once she starts cooking. At least I could be greatful that it was winter - because she does this in summer as well! I spent a lot of time right next to the electric fan this year and had another running in the room I slept in.

Making things more difficult is how I would like to just wear a string top, but then I knew I’d be greeted with comments about my body, hair, fucked-up skin and scars. Or at the very least stares. I caught some family members staring at me a few times, making me nervous as to what they might comment on later. I’ve certainly had that happen. Like one time I came downstairs for breakfast with a sleeveless top on, got some comments made about my acne scars; forcing me to retreat upstairs to put on a hoodie. Or how I’ve had my mum pull me aside to tell me stuff about what others have been telling her about my appearance or figure or making subtle gestures to me in order to adjust myself or clothing. This has only become more infuriating for me as time goes on. They can complain all they like about how aspects of my appearance make them uncomfortable, but I’m the one who has to live with the emotional and physical pains of bearing them. How many people do you know whose skin becomes dry and flakey immediately after being hydrated?! When I came downstairs to in something to keep my cool, my mum kept trying to persuade me to where a shirt and questioned me as to why. But as I tried to tell her about how I’ve gotten comments from her and others about my skin, she very quickly changed the subject. But that doesn’t surprise me. Friends of mine will know about how when I try to open up to family members and let them know something hurts them, they instantly get angry and turn the situation around. Saying how I’ve made them feel awful for calling them out on things. Well I’m sorry - but maybe I don’t like being referred to as a “whale” in front of my infant nephew!!!

Speaking of which: My visit would come with plenty of comments being made about my size. Including relatives thinking it’s okay to constantly make cracks about my weight and grab a hold of my belly. Then I’ll get a dirty look and they’ll act surprised when I smack their hands away and tell them “No!” I already don’t really like my family members getting too touchy with me, for reasons I won’t get into here. When I showed my nan this vent comic I made, she asked me “Is that you?” To which my mum laughed and responded, “Aye, a much, much SMALLER version, but it’s her.”

Then, on the very last day of my visit, the last words my nan said to me as we were saying goodbye were; “Now next time I see you, I want you to come to me looking more slender.”

FUCKING HELL!!!

Even when the hinges to my door came loose, the first thing that comes out of a relative’s mouth is that I did this because I’m heavy-handed. Which I pointed out I wasn’t. Since I had to keep opening my door slowly due to the fan on the other side!

However, as you may have guessed, sometimes being around family feels like being a fly on the wall to an EDL meeting. My nan claims to be a very good Roman Catholic lady, but she seems to hate every other nationality, religion, homeless people and slags off her own family members behind their backs all the fucking time. I’ve overheard her complaining about someone and hear her say,

 “So I said to her, I know you, I know your race…” At which point I try and black-out of the conversation and drown it out with a drink. You would not believe how often I’ve had to hear her saying “Bloomin’ Asians” this and “So bloody many of them now” that.

I can’t help but appreciate the irony of her complaining about foreigners, when she herself is a foreigner. I think this is one of the cases where a prejudice comes from personal reasons and she bullshits about them being principle ones. Many times I’ve spoken up and pointed out her double-standards or corrected her on her racial insensitive. And when that happens, I’m usually told by my parents to keep quite so as not to cause a fuss. So she can rant and rave on about anyone and everyone, but I’m told to hush the very second I offer a calm and logic to the situation.

Also, my Nan REALLY hates cats. Me: “At some point I’m hoping to finally get two cats. I’m constantly missing the company of animals and I think it could greatly benefit me mentally…” Nan: “Oh god, well that’s me then! I won’t be able to come within miles of your house.” Me:

It got to the point where it became an endurance test for my patience. For instance, I genuinlly heard this from a FEMALE member of my family:

“…Women used to take it as a compliment getting touched and chatted-up. You can’t even touch someone’s leg these days without losing your job…”

At which point I retreated upstairs without saying a word to indulge in the secret stash of whiskey and coke I’d brought with me. ‘Cos I knew I was going to need it for occasions like these. I did my best to help escape things by keeping my head in my sketchbook when I was free to. However this didn’t stop me getting comments like these thrown my way: 

“Would you rather not put down your sketchbook for once and come up here, sit with us!? Chill!” “Are you getting headaches? It’s from the sketches.” “Cmon, take a break. Come here, now!”

I wish I had the nerve to say. “Honeslty, no. I’m fine with my sketchbook ATM, thank you.”

Along with all the other stresses of Christmas, my mum’s leg is in worse pain and she thinks the nerve endings are beyond buggered, there’s no fixing her leg and amputation might be in order. Not exactly something you want to hear. Merry sodding Christmas to me! Thank fuck for wine!

I still hear about all these quarrels and incidents within my family and it’s painful. If this Christmas has taught me anything, it’s that “family” means… “Blood relatives that bitch about each other behind their backs, con each other, walk away from each other and stab each other in the back; come out with racist, ignorant, close minded shit with a very limited understanding of what’s around them, other people or even me; who constantly impose their expectations of your appearance onto you. Making me more justified to escape into my own mind, hide the spare room with my secret stash of chocolate and cans of whiskey & Coke I came prepared with to numb everything, and count down the minutes until I can go back home to be alone or with my friends.” It does not mean “Like-minded individuals.”

I’ve pondered the idea of spending a Christmas alone. I don’t know how, but i figure that’s just likely to happen someday. And the prospect of that doesn’t alarm me at all. But the worst part is, I still love them. I do. Especially after seeing how much they adored and appreciated their presents. I always carefully choose what presents to get them to make them special. No white elephants when you have Christmas with me. I soon realised I could only elevate the atmosphere with my humour for only so long before things would descend into racism, hypocrisy, bitching and backstabbing again.

The presents I got were really nice. I got a gorgeous mug with my initial from my friend, my gran’s necklace back from my mum, some trainers and as predicted, more make-up from my nan. Which she gets me every year (I’ll admit I’m not overly keen on how cakey it is and how it doesn’t match my skin tone. But I know why I keep getting them). Some skin creams from my brother and his family and some lush fluffy slippers from my mum.

Still, it was a welcome feeling to return home to the North. Especially as the snow started to fall on my first night back. <3

3. New Years Plans.

As the year draws to the close I’ve realised I want to make some really big changes for 2018.

Ever since my Gran died in 2014, I’ve been more alone than ever before. Alone even amongst my family. I’ve seen the family dynamic break apart with the chaos formed from the grief. I’ve been forced into a position of being the reliable shoulder to cry on, the one to witness mental break downs and the one to fix everyone’s problems without thanks as a parent would. But I haven’t had the same for myself. I’ve had my false happiness be a measure of my families mental stability.

I remember the first Christmas without her; I was down London and this was playing on the telly. Watching this brought back so many fantastic memories we had watching this and how this defined so many christmases for me. Unfortunately, this meant I couldn’t control myself and I ended up sobbing in front of everyone because it just reminded me about how the best years of my life, and my gran, were gone forever. I think that incident is why I don’t let myself get emotional in front of my family anymore and keep a lot of things close to my chest. Even when I’m prodded to try and open-up more. It’s like the time my mum and I watched Anastasia (another film that was VERY special to us) it took all the strength I had to not cry when I was sat next to her. Especially at the scene when Anya is reunited with her grandmother.   Now, I feel tired of it all. I can’t keep this up forever. Despite what I know are my duties towards my family, it’s time to move on. For my own life to truly start.

I don’t know whether or not to feel guilty that I’ve began to feel more strongly about focusing on the families in my stories than my own. I felt great to escape further into my own mind. But I’m starting to wonder whether I need to spread my wings even more. I want to become less reliant on my family things - for both of our benefits. There are many changes I want to make for the upcoming year.

I have many plans for my life in the distant future. One of them being that I want to publish my graphic novel and set a consistent series going. But this Christmas has got me thinking more about my immediate future:

I want to see a doctor to get some treatments for my PCOS, I want to have a friend to suppose me through it all. I don’t want to involve my family. I tried hinting towards it, but this ending up bringing up my families wishes to get Gastric balloon surgery. Which I was nearly forced into earlier this year - a very upsetting time for me.

I want to perhaps change things about my appearance, find a style I can wear with ease and learn about how to apply make-up. And have the support of the friend who will help me through it without imposing what they want on me like a mannequin - as my family tend to.

I want to make greater progress to finishing the script for my graphic novel and figure out my series deeper lore.

I want to change my lifestyle and get back to an hour on the treadmill each night, as I used to enjoy. I want to have greater health in my life and a professional and successful routine. I want to do these because I want to. Not because I have relatives want me to be this perfect pretty girl they used to have when I was younger or because they don’t want to face the idea of me dying and forcing them to face their own mental grievances instead of imposing them onto me.

I want to know that I’ve created a good business out of doing what I’m talented at doing and finally make myself a working member of society while sitting comfortably on it’s outer edge. To be my own boss and controller of my opportunities. Especially given the boosts I’ve gotten from my classmates and even getting a compliment from Disney animator Aaron Blaise for my Horse study sketches.

I want to develop more as an artist and a writer, to grow out of my amateurish mistakes.

I want to learn more practice life skills and DIY so that I may shape my home and let myself be prepared for any situation.

I want to be able to meet more people. Perhaps experience the joys of flirtation again and impress an older gentleman.

I want to be able to have two indoor cats to share my home and introversion with and in return take care of them.

So all those and more are what I plan to do. Tonight will be a fun night of quite recreation, but after that, it’s time to get the ball rolling. I know plenty of my friends seem to be making some great transitions in their life. So I really hope they succeed in what they want.

Also, if I’m to finally stop whinging about my problems. This year hasn’t exactly been great overall. What with the absolute cunt that is Donald Trump somehow convincing his backwards supporters to make him the president and then get into a dick-measuring contest with the equally sociopathic, narcissistic and immature Kim Jong whatshisface and having the threat of nuclear holocaust over our heads. Blue Planet 2 let us know that humanity has fucked the planet and become an inoperable cancer for every other species we share it with. Then of course, the whole Brexit thing here in the UK wasn’t exactly pretty. Plus there was the tidal wave of sex pests in show business and politics that serve to remind me why as a woman.. I'm fucked either way. I’d love to hope things will be better for the world next time around, but then I remember I’m a pessimist. And if things were bad this year… I’m shitting myself. It certainly explains why I’ve been constantly listening to this song on a loop.

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Tonight, to celebrate New Year, I’m using what little cash I have in hand to treat myself to a Chinese takeaway. I’ll also stick a mixed prawn platter in the oven. Made myself some chocolate strawberries, a few glasses of either Amontillado along with some Whiskey & Coke and just watch whatever telly will make me happy. I sometimes miss attending the New Years parties I used to. But after this Christmas, spending the New Years Eve alone is much more refreshing.

To my dear friends @strangehyperbole @rationalnonsense @ecmcookiez @sibera-the-wanderer @buradorei, I fucking love you guys and hope this year treats you well. Thank you so much for being there for me. I appreciate your friendship more than you could imagine.

CHEERS!!!

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