over the hills and far away.

i think we're gonna have a problem. is it possible to od on vitamin d? i have a feeling i'm going to be popping those bad boys all winter long. it's dark by four thirty. it hasn't stopped raining for the past four days. yesterday was the exception. it's like the sun packs up and heads to cuba. i'd do the same, but i have to remember that i chose to move here, to the dreary-wet-damp-pierce-your-bones country of england. i'll take a sunny-dry-cold-snow-on-the-ground-for-weeks canadian winter day over this. the spring, summer and autumn have been lovely, but i have a feeling winter is going to take me places i haven't been before. there should be a goverment scheme to subsidize sad lamps. maybe i could go tanning. vitamin d overdose...skin cancer...vitamin d overdose...skin cancer. i should probably research the overdose. i heard you can't od on vitamins. your body just ignores and returns to sender.

i drove to lewes yesterday afternoon. the plan was to visit the ruined castle, but i got sidetracked. i took some narrow side street, walked uphill for fifteen minutes, discovered a public footpath and the next thing i knew i was standing on a golf course with a view that blew my mind. i stayed there until sunset. i finished my book and got through some albums. it's funny i had been thinking about wanting a great view for a sunset...and i found it.

high street bridge.

a-m-a-z-i-n-g antique shop. the little girl inside me is screaming at this point. i couldn't stop gushing in front of the shop owner. throw in my accent and i'm sure i was the topic at the dinner table that night. she was all decked out in furs. there were fur coats and hats everywhere. i snuck this photo. i wish my camera didn't make such a racket. she didn't hear, but i felt bad...so i bought a knitted hat for a fiver.

st. thomas a becket church. it was old. it was pretty. and, i had it all to myself. i love when that happens.

climbing commences.

trying to compose myself, but i'm totally out of breath and overheating by this point. layers.

reward!

funny story. i saw this bench from a distance and thought, cool...a place to sit for a bit. nose to the ground i march on. only to find out that it's not a bench...it's a wrought, iron...thing? i laughed out loud.

water...meet crunchy water. don't worry...there was a sandwich too.

a bench. aha. i like my new hat though.

debbie downer alert.

i'm becoming aware with each photo i take of myself that i'm not recognising the person looking back at me. and, i take another in disbelief and then i get angry. i'm not seeing myself, and then i consider never posting a picture again. i went through some old photos from the past three years and i can't even stand to look at those either. i don't know what is wrong with me. i didn't like what i looked like before and i've done something about it, but i'm feeling guilty about the person i seem to look like now. the photos i've been taking of myself recently are all a facade. yeah i'm supposedly looking good these days, but i'm not feeling good these days about the fact that i'm looking good. how messed up is that? and, if i was a mess before this all went down...that mess doesn't go away. it intensifies. i'm being honest here. i can look at this photo below and think, yeah, that's a good one. but, it's like i'm only looking at it on one level.

i like the photo but i can't accept that person is me yet. maybe this has something to do with the weight loss and the fact that i haven't fully reconciled it all yet. when does everything click? when will the person you're looking at shake hands with the person i feel inside? soon i hope. i'm starting to despise myself here. and don't tell me i'm being dramatic. it's how i feel. God understands where i'm coming from. and He's fighting for me because i've asked Him too.

all my life i've struggled with taking men seriously. the exception is my dad...'cuz he's awesome. i was the girl who had breasts by grade five. i was the girl who was five foot seven by grade six and towered over everyone, then grew another two inches. i was the girl who was repeatedly told she looked seventeen when she was really twelve. i'm an only child and i'm most comfortable in the company of people way older than myself. i worked in a job that often encountered men who chose abuse to deal with their anger. recipient? partners and children. men who have charmed their way to get what they want no matter how manipulative or indirectly controlling it seemed. i haven't necessarily helped myself very much here, have i? and i'm not looking for pity. i'm looking for some healing.

remember that freedom i was talking about earlier? that's the goal here. maybe that's why God led me here.

and, yes. i smoked that. aha.