💌MAKING ''RESOLUTIONS'' (From My Bed)💌
Chasey Delaney (Updates)...because you said the dreams I had weren't in my head! x
Thursday 1 January 2026
“If you like your newsletters without politics or preconceptions or seeking a break from the norm you may have just found your new hangout”
NOTE: THIS LETTER MAY BE TOO LONG TO SEE IT ALL IN YOUR INBOX. TO VIEW IT IN IT’S ENTIRETY YOU MAY NEED TO OPEN IT IN YOUR BROWSER OR ON THE APP.
Previously HERE at Chasey Delaney (Updates):
THURSDAY 1 JANUARY 2026
Dear Chasers!
Merry New Year! Starting a new year on a fucking Thursday - are you for real! ....and now begins the 200 days of January!
I’ve just had a Bailey’s ‘yogurt’ pot (which was actually Salted Caramel thick double cream made by Bailey’’s and tastes like its laced with Methane!), a cold sausage roll and a Cadbury’s Selection Box for my ‘bedtime-breakfast!’ its almost eleven o’clock at night. I’m writing this ‘on location’ travelling from one empty room to the other between bed and couch and back again. This is because every time I decide to join him (my partner) where he is ‘chilling’ he soon paddles off to the other room. (No, we are not flooded) he just reminds me Jemima Puddle-Duck when he slumps about in a bad mood with me.
MY QUICK LIST OF BED-RESOLUTIONS:
Accept The Reality
Control My Emotions
Take Care of My Mental Health
Don’t Judge Too Early
Be Silent Over Nonsense Fights
Don’t Depend On Others For Happiness
How I am going to TRY plan 2026 in a way that works for me.
Hope you find this helpfull? Now on with my usual style of exciting writing. Personal updates, essay, confessions, love, honesty, far too much info!
James Baldwin said to Maya Angelou during an old televised conversation, interview type thing (I’ll link the YouTube Video in HERE and below for ease of reference). He said that it it almost ‘Impossible to write” (and paraphrasing here from my interpretation) ‘when you are too beat up holding on to resentment.
It presents difficulties for you attempting to write a Novel, or even a paragraph or a single sentence because the resentment is all so consuming, distracting, clogging up the margins for the imagination to expand and connect and write to expel alternative feeling.
I made most of that sentence up to convey what it is I am trying to say, which is, although James Baldwin used the term resentment in a completely different context than I will, I am able to relate. I have translated it in a way to reflect my situation. My current plight to write, and my inability to get out of my way when I do.
I’ve been trying to reconnect with my partner so that once I fix that and settling in to the new lifestyle / reality that we have found ourselves in (together?). I figured I would then have a better foundation for beginning to improve myself and mindset, my own mental health, emotional well-being depends on me knowing who I am and want to be. I have been careless in neglecting my own growth, my own needs and reckless in reigning the ‘crazy’ parts in.
I am going through significant changes in life, yet it seems that by stepping into new normality, bad traits, weaknesses and unhealthy habitual behaviour is driving me to digression whereby I’m fighting with older versions of myself and struggling to cope with what actually remains with me.
Last year 2025 was the year of the Snake, I should have been shedding all that shit. This year is the year of the horse and it appears that everything I manage to post is reading like fucking manure.
RESOLUTION:: I am intending to concentrate on working out where I want to be in life, what I want to do with my precious time, and who I would be proud to be. I need to reconnect with myself and up until now, I’ve been seeking validation from him, now I realise that I have to dive in the deep end alone this time and work from within,
The Resentment feels like kicking myself in the shin. I put all that extra effort into making sure he was alright, half expecting to fix him and hoping as a result he would miraculously snap back into life and remember to care for me again.
Instead his love, his care and any kind emotion has been withdrawn until he is drunk and then it comes out in aggression, demands for attention, bad vibes, torment, and insulting accusations, observations and revelations about his ‘‘feelings’’’ toward me.
Selfishly thinking that if I loved him hard enough, looked after his needs fast enough, he would be there for me too, won’t need me as much, he would put 50% back into our love, what is left.
I’ve been holding the fort 110% (the added 10% is a little reference to- probably- an unrelated post on The Daily Chase publication. It was one of the daily drop in letters, from last week where I did a 7 day writing sprint! Yay! Hey Big Writer, Write a Little Line For Me’ (sang to the tune of Hey Big Spender - obviously!). Check those out!
"It’s hard to pretend you’re happy when your heart feels so lonely."
RESOLUTION:: To pull myself together. To concentrate on becoming more self-reliant, less self-defacing, more self-sufficient, more selfish with sharing my love, and more selective on who I share my love and / or attention with. I wish I could go back to writing without a thought to how it would be received because I didn’t care too much what anyone would think of me, I just needed that release.
The Distraction: Now, I feel like I’m under the microscope - but in the back of my head I know that deep down it is me who is behind the lens and nobody else actually gives a fuck, then we come full circle, its ‘oh poor me’ - nobody cares, boo hoo, ‘pity me’ and sometimes “I’ll never engage, talk, write, put my heart out, use that fucking heart, give a shit about anyone ever again!”
Tonight for instance, after another good (because he’s sober) sad (because he is distancing himself in another room, very little communication, shooing me away whenever I have delivered whatever it was he called me in to bring for him, ignoring my attempts to tell him how I feel (like, in that moment). An example being, “I’ve missed you today, are you ok? I’m alright but feel a bit lonely and….” then he cuts me off, pauses his TV and tells me to grow up or “fuck off you’re doing my head in”.
I don’t always know how to articulate myself without being all or nothing. I’m either too vulnerably clingy or too unapproachable cunty.
There’s never any middle-ground. Just the odd western whistle, a tumbleweed down the hallway as a sign of foreboding, an hour or so where there’s just a thick slice of cold silence in the air. The calm before the storm. I feel this time is where we decide to align with each others vibe, always too late!!
I had already given up, and chosen to silently, psychologically shut down (mirroring his projection) and he has attempting to mirror mine a small fraction (matching my previous projection). Taking notice of me again, but by this time I’ve crossed over, ‘been to the MthFkn mountain top*’ chances are it will be a bit of while before I’m ready to descend back to common ground.
*RE: reference to Mountain top song in this video / reel -is Shake It by Eminem (??) don’t quote me!.
Like when I just got in the bath for a quick scrub to freshen up and of course I had to leave the door open (its a rule he has!) anyway, I’m rubber-dub-scrubbing furiously sliding up and down the tub, legs in the air enough to get my hair soaked under the water, then pushing myself hard back to sitting up.
He came in an was just stood at the open door looking me up and down. Then came a bit closer, bent forward a bit, staring intently at my face. First eye contact of all day really. He passed comment on the bruise on my face. Its a tiny circle of a thing on my left temple. He told me it was there. I said “I know!”
It was nice of him to take an interest in something on me, it almost disarmed me from my resolve of acceptance that I was in this relationship alone. It would have been a nice olive branch for him to hold out if he genuinely didn’t know that he was the one who caused the bruise when we fought at Xmas.
I just told him he did it but its fine because the one on my wrist hurts the most. He’d twisted my arm up my back that night like the fucking police do it. Where you feel like your arm could break, and at the time he knew it. He has previous police/ security training in London. He knows the gentle way to restrain but also gained information on the dangerous way to NOT do it. He did it the cunts way. It had hurt so much I was afraid to mention it again.
“I believe he has genuine misplaced memories of that day and that’s OK”
I’m due my monthly schizophrenic medication in six days time anyway, I might be ready for my monthly visitors of menstrual variety to which always makes me moody, edgy and a little of this sane-reality-plane. Maybe I’m too fragile.
Most days I live like an Empath. Others I am the Devil incarnate. It’s like one day I notice myself feeling frustration where I used to feel compassion. Then its me that I’ve receded into a whole new level of awareness and my consciousness is being badly-affected.
I often don’t act out my frustrations. I do the opposite to how I might be feeling. As a coping mechanism and a way of gaining a bit of control over myself (is this what they mean by regulating your emotions?) because to be honest its my only way of managing myself with these feelings, situations and things at the moment.
Final thoughts: Like D-Ream always used to lift me up whenever it used to get played over the Radio in Boots (the high street chain of stores). Things Can Only Get Better. x
Kind-Regards,
..your newest OLD mate, -Chasey! ..x
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