Near Death Experience

Hey, ok so I just had CCF and literally got so scared. We were doing kayaking, and im normally fine. We were using spray decks for the first time and I was fine until it came to partner rescue. Im an only child so maybe that affects my trust, or maybe not. I barely new my chubby male partner, and he said he was ready so I capsized. I can hold my breath for quite a while, so I did the bang three times and wave arms. A while later I feel him grab my hand and then drop it. I waited and lost all my oxygen, panicked and twisted my body in a way i didnt know was possible to get some air. I dived out.
I got out of the water and Jamie my NCO who I love so much as a friend but he is quite cute :P, but nooo nothing will happen there!, was really nice but obviously shocked cause he hadn't seen what had happened and then he always sees me confident and controlled and i basically hid it for a minute and walked very calmly over to hattie who was standing at the side not swimming because of her monthly, and I promptly start crying. Great.
Jamie by the way was in a vest top, boxers and white trunks. Therefore he wasnt going to go into the water because he had no other boxers. He comes over when Im almost calmed down and tells me that he is going to save me himself so I know im safe. He told me to trust him, and I do, honestly with my life as i proved.
I got back into to the kayak and got into the water. Jamie gets in, meaning he basically had no dry boxers, which got me choked up that hed do that much for me, cause I think that is quite a big deal... and I look up to the side. I saw all my friends waiting, some in the water, some just off. They said that if I got panicked they would all be in to save me. So then I span, and it was awful, but Jamie grabbed my hand, and the boat, and tipped me upright. Then he drags me to the side and all my friends were hugging me and looking after me. Then Jamie gets in the kayak and tells me to rescue him. I was so nervous that I was gunna cock it up, and I did. I got him halfway and then failed, but he did a calm self release. I was so sorry but he got back in, got in the water and told me to try again. i said no, so he said well id you dont save me, no one will, and capsized.
Obviously I jumped in and saved him, and it worked this time :D He gave me a high five. It meant more that you'd think.
I hid any emotions of shock or sadness, because in truth i was still so scared, and had all the jokes in the girls changing room, joining in with all the film talk and laughs. It felt so good. I went outside and Hattie gave me such a moving speech that I choked up again, and then hid it back down, did a load of goodbye hugs and walked to the car.
I share lifts with Matthew and Becky. Becky is one of my best friends, Matthew is not. It was his Dads turn to pick up, and Becky is in army not RAF so didnt know what had happened. She knew something was wrong and asked and as i was telling the story it all came flooding back (no pun intended :P ) and i burst into bloody tears again. Gulp them down and when I got home dad kinda didnt really look at me and just said hi, how are you? I was like, yep good thanks, going for a shower.
In the shower I completely broke down. I was sobbing, light headed, about to throw up, it was awful. I was also freezing and so ended up with the shower on the fullest temperature it goes to.
I got into bed and wrote this. I still cant master the fact that my friends were so there for me. I've always loved them so much, but this was different. This meant it was obvious. Tears again now, im so emotional today!

Ok, going now, tired after all the stress.
xxxxx

Awwwww

http://hamsterdowns.webs.com/blog.htm I just found my old blog :P CUTE!!! meh, still prefer this one! xxxxxxx

Fat... Cont

Decided against using this blog, now have new blog called http://sandysdailydiet.blogspot.com/ for all those posts :D Will keep this blog up for diary entrys though..

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Fat

So I've always thought I was ok figure wise. Not face wise or hair wise, but figure wise. Now after I stood up, and my DAD says : "Oh, you've got a bit of a tummy going on havent you?! I've never seen you like that before". aka "You're fat". So upset obviousley, so I have decided, for real now. I will record on here my weight and waist every day, along with what I eat and when. I better lose this stomach, or else. I'm going to cut down on sweets and chocolate, but still have full meals unless nothing changes. Wish me luck. Ps I'll keep the poems going though :D xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Voice

Poem : The Voice


Pray for the people inside your head,
cause they wont be there when you're dead.
Pray for the smiles you get on the street,
Cause they're they ones you need to keep.

Smiles from friends, now they can go sour,
Turn to dust in a couple of hours,
Hatred from enemies, colouded with a grin,
Turn your back, they stick the knife in.

But whos the one you're praying to?
Are you praying to your God?
Am I praying to you?

Who do you want to hear your prayer,
Can anyone hear?
Is anyone there?

Talk to the voice in the back of your mind,
It wont turn against you when your hated by your kind,
Its the only one you can tell the truth to,
Cause deep underneath, the voice is you.

Conscience or Madness,
Obsession or Love,
The Voice is the one who towers above.

All the people you dont yet know,
Theyre the ones who cant sink too low.

Say what you think and think what you like,
but just remember you're both too alike.

Whatever it tells you, how far or how near,
Its the only thing you need to hear.

Sandy Downs
9.10.2009


Possible a bit creepy but I like it :P
xxxxx

Heroes

National Poetry Day Yesterday! --- Theme : Heroes and Heroines.
Heres mine :


Superman and Spiderman,
Batman and the Hulk,
Thy all survive in comic books,
Action figures in bulk.

Dennis the Menace and Pie face,
Tracy Beaker too,
Heroes to the boys and girls,
but maybe not to you.

Firefighters, poilcemen,
with their lives in the line,
Doctors and thier mdeicines,
They are heroes, thats fine.

Plumbers, Electricians,
Gasmen and their lights,
Fix the house and garden,
We rest easy for the night.

But though they are all heroes,
They still dont beat the next,
For though they might not save lives,
My heroes are the best.

They dont drive the ambulance,
They might not save a man,
They dont find cures everyday,
They just do what they can.

So heres to the assistants,
The only ones who do
Every single job that they
dont want to.

Heres to all the people
The person in the crowd,
The silent voice of reason,
The ones who make me proud,

Maybe not the bravest,
But lets not be ashamed,
The links between the famous,
The ones who go unnamed.

Sandy Downs
9.10.2009

A Story - She. Written about 2 years ago. xxxx

It was odd. Her head was crammed full of the most none descript, and yet ever so important thoughts. She went to the cupboard, reaching for the light switch. Her soft hands fumbled slightly as she struggled to locate the button to light her way. Six ceiling lights lit up her room, and she watched her feet as she clamoured over books, cushions, kitten litter trays and water bowels, cursing as her toe caught the edge of the deep brown china, and water spilled all over the floor, wetting her food and pyjama leg. She reached her cupboard and scrambled around at the bottom, sifting through the various show boxes to find the notebook that she had been given as a present many years ago, at the age of eleven. Maybe it wasn’t so long ago, but it felt it. She opened the purple notebook, blowing away some of the purple fur that had been chewed by hamsters who no longer lived in her home.

She didn’t know why she was bothering to start a diary. She knew herself, too well for her liking. She knew that her emotions charged through her stronger than most people.  She knew her actions, what she would do, what she could do, what she would never dare to do. She knew that she would use the diary for a while, and then forget about it. Then years later when she wanted the notebook for another use, the used pages would just be recycled. As she made her way back to her bed, she paused momentarily to chance sideways into the full length mirror. She wouldn’t call herself vain, but she knew that she was the stereotypical pretty; tall, blonde, thin, and well matured for a girl of thirteen. Exasperation passed over her features as she wondered again why boys seemed to find her unattractive. She’d read enough books to know that the blonde always got the guy, and she’d lived long enough to figure out that that was pure fiction. She’d had a few wolf whistles from the boys who saw her, while they lounged on the village green, on her way back from the shops. But she’d only ever had one serious relationship. All her friends (well the popular mainly) came back with tales of “pulling” and “grinding” with boys. Another thing that puzzled her; her clique. She hung around with the popular geeks, the peeks (peaks of society), and although classed as bookworms and boffs, they were acknowledged by just about everyone.

She heaved herself up to her bed, up the ladder, and she swung a leg over the wall that surrounded the mattress. She placed her torch between her shoulder and neck, her head on an angle as she held the torch in place. She started to scribble, her messy handwriting taking up the first few pages. Notes to readers. Basically keep out, but in a more civilized. She suddenly sat up and leaned over the side of her bead. She had heard a skid of claws on wooden surface, and she smiled, mostly to herself, when she say her ten week old kitten pick herself up, and skid across the floor after an orange ball with purple tail feathers. She jotted down the fact that she had a cat, well three to be precise. She wrote about her long standing (nine years of her thirteen to be exact) crush on her childhood sweetheart. She wrote about her new school, which she had been attending for about a year and a quarter, and yet she still felt as though it was all new and fresh. She writes about her favourite programme on television at the moment, and she chuckled quietly about some forgotten joke. Then the memories flood in, and her hand sped across the page, trying to squash everything in.  She heaved a sigh of relief as she closed her diary. Ironically she did feel better, calmer. She puts in the iPod she was given for her birthday a few months ago, and the gentle beat of the sad song swayed her gently to sleep.

A few days later she arrived home. She heard the drunken laughter – the usual greeting, coming from her mother. She obviously had company. Her father was still at work, and as she wandered through the kitchen, she saw her Nan, her mum, and some of their friends there. She smiled, and the audience were all too far gone to notice the fakeness of the gesture. She joined in with the polite introductions, the perfect daughter. Then she went upstairs. She walked slowly and evenly, thinking over every step. She didn’t break pace as she walked into her room, once again swinging herself up onto the high bed. She slid off her school skirt and jumper, as she knew the trouble that would come from not hanging them up. She proceeded to throw the clothes over the back of the chair. Then she slid under the duvet, suffocating her head. Here she stayed, her shallow, uneven breathing breaking the silence for about half an hour. Then the tears came. Uncontrollable sobs echoed through her body, causing her physical pain. She knew her mum would be too engrossed in her many bottles of wine to bother to check on her. She was independent, and may as well have been home alone. She took gulps of cold air to calm her shaking body, and she continued to let the tears roll down her face. She dug around in the bed, and after recognising wrappers, books, bottles, pens, candles, and any other unidentifiable objects, her hands found the shape they had been searching for. She wrote about the bad day, failing the test, breaking a friendship. She calmed down and once again used the music to lull herself to unconsciousness. After the usual routine was over (excluding the diary from the routine bit),  she woke up and dressed, finding that she must have as usual changed during the night down to her underwear. The day continued, another school day, and she cried herself to sleep most nights. She didn’t know why, or how to stop, but she didn’t use the diary again for about a month. not even to note the reunion in friendship, or another new kitten.

Her father picked her up from school, about a month later. She had just finished the production of the school play, and she chatted merrily for the ten minute drive home. The ever careful driver began to reverse into the driveway, and looked into her eyes. She knew something was wrong straight away.  He spoke in a calm voice, and her face contorted into the most awful of shapes, with about fifty emotions flicking through her eyes, as she found out the news that the kitten, her kitten was dead.  She couldn’t breathe. She accused him of joking, and then lying, and then she ran out the car and slammed the door. At that moment the front door open, and the ever cheerful bouncy mother was in a state. Tears were running down all three pairs of cheeks and the embrace that lasted for ages meant all tears were mingled. She needed breath, and ran to the driveway, sinking down onto her knees. She couldn’t cry, or breath and hyperventilating took on a whole new meaning. Both parents called her in, but she refused, until she finally calmed down enough to feel the bitter English winter night cold. When she returned to the house, her mother sat in the lounge, crying but watching TV, with the newest kitten, who was obviously grieving his mate,. Nobody told her what had happened, and she called a childhood friend, but also a fellow cat owner, to be comforted. It was late, and selfish, but it was right. She missed the morning of school, and when she woke up she heard her mother telling the cleaner what had happened. It was drowning. She crept back to bed, not too late to hear the cleaner telling her mother that she shouldn’t tell her, that even for a thirteen year old it was too awful to bear. It was to awful to bear, but not knowing would be worse. The ride into school was awful, and as she entered her favourite class, English, it was obvious that word had to around what had happened. She sat in her space, but the pitiful stares brought a new emotion up, and she began to cry. After setting the assignment, the teacher came over to check she was ok. She obviously wasn’t, but he left it to her friends to comfort her. She ended up having to leave the room, and then spent the rest of the lessons in tears, but silent tears, enough to have every child in the room stare and ask her what’s wrong when she accidently caught there eye, but not enough to have to leave. When it got to PE though, her worst subject, she changed, but after a restless night, she was told to go back to the health centre, to get some rest. He teacher obviously knew she would be no help. Throughout the day word had spread to the teachers, and many teachers were visiting her classes to say sorry, and worry, but she blocked them out.

The next month was different and long. All different people offered their apologies, but they didn’t help. She remembered the diary and wrote an update. The month after that school life was back to normal, although she still carried an air of sadness with her. She remembered dancing, and they were playing games, (and in an all girl’s school that meant jumping like crazy and doing wrestling and black magic) and she wrote about the awkwardness of the popular girl, who she had mixed feelings for, wrestling her playfully. She wrote about her comforting best friends.

Weeks ate this was not the case. She was talking to a teacher, and her “friends” started a “teachers pet” chant, loud enough to fill the field. The teacher pretended not to hear, but to her it was obviously odd. She left the conversation quickly, but went to sit by herself. She didn’t accept apologies, and it was an awful night. She was still haunted every night by her kitten drowning, struggling to breathe against the weight of the water, and eventually giving up.

Now she has 5 cats, two of which are new kittens. She’s travelled, and is approaching her fourteenth birthday. It’s amazing what happened in a year, she couldn’t possibly write them all in her diary, just as I can’t write them here. She won the English prize, despite her off week. She carried on with life, but not a day goes by without her thinking about her baby. She met a guy who she thinks is quite nice. She doesn’t know how much he likes her, and his sister is hated by the entire year at school, so it probably won’t work. I might tell you later. She has no idea what happening about the girl, and as she is on school holidays at the moment, she will not see her for a few months. Her life is more organized, and there is too much to say now.

quotes I love

Don’t steal! The government hates competition
Ever stop to think, and forget to start again?
I'm not suffering from insanity, I'm enjoying every minute of it
Eat healthy, exercise more, still die
Time is what keeps things from happening all at once
Smile, it makes people wonder what you're up too..
Honesty is the best policy, but insanity is a better defense
A good lawyer knows the law, a great lawyer knows the judge
Out of my mind. Back in 5 minutes
Most people are only alive because it is illegal to shoot them
I'm not smiling at you, I'm trying not to laugh!
You may laugh because I'm different but I laugh because you're all the same
Love me or leave me. Hey! Where's everybody going??
Everyones entitled to be stupid but you are abusing the
priviledge
I'm gonna smile like nothing's wrong, talk like everything's perfect, act like it's just a dream, and pretend he's not hurting me.
A single death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic.
I was standing in the park wondering why frisbees got bigger as they got closer...then it hit me
Roses are red...violets are blue...who cares...So ArE cRaYoNs
You're unique, just like everyone else....
I told my psychiatrist that everyone hated me. He told me I was being ridiculous. Everyone hadn't met me yet
Im an angel! Honest! The horns are just there to keep the halo up straight!
Can I get your picture? I collect nature disasters
Just because you aren't paranoid doesn't mean they're not after you.
Earth first. We'll screw up the other planets later
The latest survey shows that three out of four people make up 75% of the population.
I must confess, I was born at a very early age
Don't walk in my footsteps. I walk into walls
He who laughs last, thinks slowest.
Jiggle it a little it'll give
Befor you insult someone, walk a mile in there shoes. That way when you insult them, you are a mile away, and you have your shoes

What happens when He's your Prince Charming, But you're not his Cinderella?

What happens when He's your Prince Charming, But you're not his Cinderella?
Sandy Downs
1/10/2009

He's the one who sent the invite,
He's the one who said goodnight.
He's the one who set my heart a'flutter
He's the one who makes it alright.

He's the one who could break my heart,
He's the one who I dream of all day,
He's the one I can picture right now,
He's the one who makes it okay.

He's the one who can smile and mean it,
He's the one who can calm me down,
He's the one holding the glass slipper,
He's the one I need around.

Where is he?