Watching

Today I was lucky enough to stand on the balcony if the 36th floor apartment in Broadbeach watching whales frolic in the ocean. They were so close you could hear their tales splashing against the water as they played in the waves.

Whales were not the only thing I watched. I watched my children as the experiences the pure pleasure of flight; my sister enjoying a glass of wine in the limo; my mum sipping her coffee; my nephew's joy at having purchased a gift for his bestie and my niece's disgust as a fruit bat flew overhead. But mostly I watched myself. I just let emotions wash over me today - from the nausea in the plane, limo, elevator and taxi to the contentment watching the kids play in the pool; the sheer sadness that no one contacted me that turned to acceptance that I don't measure up; the calm I feel when I am walking to the stress of not having money. I watched and I realised that, though I have very little on my top ten list of things I need; I can find a way to cope with them. I am resourceful and resilient. I am tough and stoic. I am capable and competent. I shall survive this nightmare like I did the one previous to it - one day, hour, minute at a time.

This shitstorm will not last as long as the last because I am aware of it and am taking steps to rectify it every day.

Effort with ease.

The quest for beauty

I have a function to attend tomorrow. The ticket was a birthday present from my sister. I was lucky enough to have been taken shopping by my cousin. She bought me some shoes for my birthday and I am contemplating what I can wear them with tomorrow. Outfit aside, I have spent the evening shaving and plucking, there was a face mask and hair treatment, nails have been painted and moisturiser applied to hands and feet. And it is the day before the event!

Tomorrow I will apply makeup and perfume it up before frocking and bejewelling myself. All to go out to lunch with a bunch of women. Tis madness!

Clarity

It amazes me the clarity that comes at the most inopportune times - at yoga, in the car, at work, when tipsy or tired. I have been trying so hard to build myself up, pump up my tyres and see the best in me. People around me, in an attempt to make the hurt dissipate have been trying to make me believe that I have something others don't and that I deserve special treatment. The truth is that I am just a chick. I am not the worst person that has ever lived but I will never be the best. I am not special. I deserve nothing. I need to focus on living a life that I am proud of for contentment comes from within.

I have this chip on my shoulder that was planted some time in my distant past and has gained so much weight that it bears me down. I drag it around like a security blanket because I don't know how to live without it. I can be presented with a hundred compliments in a day and they wash over me but the smallest negative insinuation rolls around in my head for weeks and some are still there decades later.

There is nothing fake about me. I have no hidden agenda but others consistently misinterpret my intentions. I truly want happiness for those around me; even at my own expense. This means that I am continually screwed over. I am generous and thoughtful which means that I give more than I receive. I am kind and considerate which means that I am sad much of the time. I am easily influenced and a people pleaser so I agree to what others want or make choices based on what I think they want. I have no boundaries so I am consistently overrun. I have a problem with always wanting more; satisfaction is always out of reach.

Acceptance is the way forward. I am not special. I am scarred, flawed, damaged and discarded; all with good reason. Time to take it square on the chin and move on. Close the door on the past

On the fridge

My cousin and I were talking about motivation recently. He came across a suggestion to put pictures on your fridge of things you want in life.

If I were to do this I would have my children followed by my sexy man.  After that would be to start my own business to achieve financial independence so I can travel.   And finally, I would love a skill, anything would do.  I'm working on Swedish and guitar at the moment.

Scared

Knowing your fears means that you can face them. Battle them. And the beat them to a pulp.

I freely and openly admit that I fear being alone. I love being in a relationship and I miss it. I miss the intimacy. I miss being held when I have had a totally shit day. I miss kissing and making love. I miss all night conversations about nothing in particular. I miss waking up next to someone. I miss touch. Skin to skin contact is so underrated. I miss holding hands and massage. I miss 'hello' and 'goodbye' kisses. I miss 'I missed you' kisses. I miss the honesty and rawness that comes from being in a relationship. 

Albus Dumbledore is a dmart man: It does not do to dwell and forget to live. 

What's in a name?

I am in the process of reverting to my maiden name. It's a name I am proud of. It brings me back to a time where I was whole and happy.

It is also an absolute palaver. Everything is tied to your name and there are dependencies everywhere.

I am not proud of a lot of things in my life but I am proud of my family. My name is tied very closely to my family and I am looking forward to this new chapter.

Try. Try. Try again

Each night I go to bed wondering what I did wrong. How I managed to fuck up yet again. How my walls were not strong enough to withstand the barrage and how I can keep fighting when I am not moving forward.

But each morning I wake thinking with the hope that I will do better. I try different things; new ways of reinforcing my walls, of creating barriers between someone I will never be able to have out of my life. A toxic influence who tears me to pieces with every interaction.

He affects me like no one else can. With years of practice, he can rip me down in a matter of seconds. He knows my weak points and uses them against me.

So I breathe deeply and try yet again to find a way to change the way I respond. A way to recondition myself. A full engine overall if possible.

Insecure and under confident

I am insecure. It is only one of my weaknesses but my greatest failing. My insecurities have killed many things and ruined the best parts of my life. Originating from my deep seated fear I worry that I am not good enough. That, no matter what I do, I will never be worthy.

It is that very fear that clouds my days and keeps me awake at night.

For many months now I have chosen to surround myself with people that build me up. I have been trying to focus on the positive and trying to let the negative wash over me like a wave; watching it recede back to whence it came. I do, watch, listen to, eat and drink the things I love.  If people don't like me then I need at accept that and move on. I am never going to impress everyone and I may never impress anyone but I shall go to bed at night proud of the choices I have made.

This means showering people with love, dancing at every opportunity, telling the truth and remaining loyal. I nourish my body and my mind. I do more than is necessary. I  breathe deeply, love wholly and stretch. I soak up the sunshine. I try to find a reason to smile. I face the continual challenges that are thrown at me and try to catch them before the splatter all over me.  

I don't always win. There are days, like today, where I cop a serious walloping and comments that would ordinarily not penetrate knock me for six. I am battered with insults, my walls are shattered and I am floored. Everyone has a line. Mine is receding and fewer people cross it these days. Tomorrow is another day. I will pick myself up, dust myself off and rebuild and reinforce my walls ready to face the onslaught again. 

I am never going to be perfect but I am slowly building strength and putting boundaries in place.

Temporary crutch

Clear the mind and soothe the soul

I run to escape (and shape my arse) but I walk to find clarity and realign. I use the slower pace of walking to force my mind to drop down a gear. My legs just want to crank it up and bolt away from my body but I reign them in to a rapid pace. One foot grounded at all times.

Walking frustrates me. It's akin to sitting in traffic. I'm moving forward but not fast enough. There is always method in the madness. Today it is because I am heading to yoga then out with a girlfriend and I don't have time to shower between engagements. There are times when it is important for my mental health to wind back. Walking is as close to relaxing as I get. In these instances walking is my equivalent to couch time. I feel rejuvenated and stronger because of it. Trust me, I need as much strength as I can muster!

Honey dipped

It's amazing what your brain focuses on. It's no secret that I love P!nk. I listen to her music all the time but I only truly heard one of her lyrics at her concert. There's a line in 'How come you're not here' that hit my for the first time when she sang live

"I'm the one

I'm just that slick

You won't find better

I'm honey dipped

There ain't a thing

That's fake on me"

The trick is to find the person that agrees. 

The power of a smile

I was talking to a friend during the week and he pointed out that I don't smile. His theory is that if I smile, I might get more attention.

So. I was driving to the hairdresser today with Jason Derulo's talk dirty blaring and dancing along to the tunes. I stopped at an intersection. As I danced, I turned to the right and noticed that the hot man in the car next to me was staring. I decided to try out the advice. I took a deep breath turned right, smiled and kept dancing. The car behind him tooted and he automatically moved forward, still watching me. He crashed straight into the car in front of him. 

Oops

A beautiful mess

If you take into account what people say about me I am scarred and damaged. I am broken and heavy hearted. I am unloveable and fundamentally flawed.

I look at it differently. I am a beautiful mess inside. There is nothing fake about me. Raw. Challenging. Insecure. But honest, loving, loyal and kind.

Good taste

It would seem that the world agrees with me.  Scott Eastwood is the bomb!

Twerk it

I love to dance. It allows me to escape to another place. Music takes me out of the shitstorm that is my life and the movement just flows. I don't think about anything when I dance. I simply let the music move through my body.

As part of birthday week celebrations I went dancing with some girlfriends last night. I wore my hair in a simple pony tail and a dress I have never had the courage to wear before just because it matched my birthday eyeshadow.

I can get a little out of hand when I dance. Probably because I truly don't care. I couldn't give a shit what anyone thinks of me when I am dancing. I dance for me. If others don't like it I don't care. I no longer get offended when people critique my style (or lack thereof). Whereas previously I would fall into a heap for days if someone made a comment that I was too rigid or needed to "flow" more. I can now shrug the criticism off and throw it back at them. If you don't like the way I dance simply stop looking.

No thanks to Ms Cyrus I had a number of people asking me to twerk last night. Not. Going. To. Happen. I saw the photos. If a super star's arse looks like that when twerking what chance to us mere mortals have? There were plenty of women, dressed totally inappropriately for the task, giving it a go though. I will need mental bleach if my ability to suppress that fails me. But seriously, there is some dancing that does not belong on the dance floor. I am happy to get my sexy on when dancing but there is a line. Twerking is well past the line. So far in fact that the line appears as a dot. Women of the world, keep it stylish! Go crazy if you must but do not present your stocking clad beige control briefs to the dance floor while twerking on the podium. No one wants to see that.

Fashion versus style

Fashion is released seasonally. Offered four times a year by 'designers' vying for your money. True style comes when you are selective with the fashions presented and you find your own niche; melding clothes from across multiple years seamlessly.

I am no fashion guru. In fact, I have a deep loathing for the industry.

Emma Watson comes to mind - "Don't feel stupid if you don't like what everyone else pretends to love". It may be harsh but I believe fashion is for those who cannot think for themselves. I refuse to be a sheeple and that's what the fashion industry is hoping for - people so insecure in themselves that they will pay over the money for the latest trends so they feel like they fit in with the rest of society. My greatest problem when it comes to clothes is that I know what I want but I have difficulty finding it commercially. I have been known to make my own clothes because I have had an idea in my head and not been able to find what I want. I have designed and made dresses for formal occasions, combined patterns for tops and modified op shop purchases just because I liked the fabric.

The internets have changed the landscape for me in recent years. There is much more scope to find the clothes that I like and have them shipped from the US, UK or Europe. Hence, I have been able to slowly compile a wardrobe that I am comfortable with. There are times when I make a purchase, get the item only to find that it's not exactly what I wanted. Close, but not right. In these instances I am glad that I have people around me that I can gift the clothes to. I don't hold onto stuff I don't like and won't wear.

As a result, I own one tshirt. I am fussy. I don't apologise for that. I will not settle. I know what I want and I will keep looking until I find it rather than have a wardrobe full of second-rate crap. With another summer approaching I am again starting to worry that I will be washing that poor tshirt on an alternate day basis!

I don't want it

I have had a food craving for months now. Problem: I don't know what it is that I want. Strangely (for me) it is something savoury.  I know that it is something I have not had for a while. At first I thought it might have been fried rice, then a salad roll, then Mum's mash, a vegemite sammich or Bovril on toast.  I was wrong. It is none of these things.

Multiple people have been talking lately about lasagna - my nephew, people at work, the local barista. I used to make a mean vegetable lasagna - rich tomato sauce, roasted pumpkin, corn and my special fried mushrooms. So, I wondered whether this was my craving.

So, over the last two nights (it is birthday week, after all) I made my lasagna. It is always an effort as there is a sequence. The pumpkin has to be roasted and the sauce needs at least an hour on the stove for the herbs to meld into the tomatoes. Then there's the careful compilation (it's all about the layers) followed by cooking time. In my opinion, lasagna should only ever be made with fresh pasta sheets - they have a different flavour and are totally worth the additional expense.

As soon as it was cooked I knew it was not what I wanted. It looks delicious, contains only ingredients I like and (as all food should be) was made with love.  But it is not what I am seeking.

The quest continues.

The only way is up

Tonight I crossed another item off my bucket list. I went rock climbing (indoor, but to me it counts). I have to admit that I am not great with heights. I was internally stressing about it all day.  I took a deep breath, remembered my mantra of "effort with ease", put on a brave face and gave it my best shot. I even managed to make it to the roof.

Rock climbing is not an attractive hobby. The harnesses make your arse protrude awkwardly and the flesh on your hips (especially after children) bulge out. Then there's the communal shoes which are both ugly and uncomfortable.

After a couple of hours of climbing I now ache everywhere. Yes, already. It does not bode well for the pain I will be in tomorrow. Plus I've broken nearly every nail and my palms are scratched to pieces. But I gave it my all. So much so that I fell off the wall at one point. My arms literally could not hold me anymore and, before I knew it, I was hanging there like a sloth on a vine. I'm thankful that the person on the other end of the rope did all the right things and I didn't plunge to an inelegant death (especially in a harness!).

I found the events of today to be a good analogy of my life. The metaphorical climb back to who I can be requires so much effort. I throw all I have at it but sometimes, despite doing my best, I cannot hold on anymore and I plunge back down again. The important thing, I think, is that I keep on getting up.

Eye candy

This list of sexy men in the world has just increased to seven - I have been introduced to the joy that is Scott Eastwood

Fucking awesome

I have decided that a man should be either fucking awesome or provide awesome fucking. Heaven help if he fulfills both requirements.

Shooting the shit

I have never been the worlds chattiest person but I can easily shoot the shit except when I am nervous. As soon as I am with someone I like or I'm trying to impress I fall to pieces. I have been working really hard lately to overcome this but it is proving challenging.

I have spent so long holding back. I withhold physical affection (I am generally a pretty touchy person) and I bite my tongue to help protect myself from embarrassment or reprimand for having said the wrong thing. I am trying to remove those filters. Relax. Just be myself.

I will never be the kind of person that talks for the sake of filling the space with sound. It's just not how I roll. I firmly believe that if I cannot improve the silence then I should keep mouth shut. However, there are plenty of times when I have something to say but I hold back out of fear. I am so scared of saying the wrong thing and making a fool of myself that I choose to say nothing at all. Naturally, I then worry that I am coming across as boring or stupid.

I am so full of insecurities that I am guard at all times. I have been working on trying to let go of that. It is a work in progress.

Be the change you want to see

The new chipotle ad  is bound to stir emotions. Even if the message only reaches 1% of viewers it will be worthwhile.

Come at me bro

So, on top of hearing yesterday that I will be out of a job soon. My ex told me this morning that he has a girlfriend.

I now have my gloves on ready to start yet another battle. When did life get so complicated?

Effort with ease. Effort with ease. Effort with ease.

Effort with ease

I'm taking up a new challenge. Starting now.

This afternoon I found out my contract is not going to be extended at work. I am not surprised but at the same time, I am devastated. I love my job. I love the people I work with. I love the location. I love working a nine day fortnight. I love the clean building and the underground car park. I love that my occasional afternoon chocolate fix supports a good cause. I love casual day that benefits children in need. I love the view from my desk and I love the way our local barista has, under instruction, perfected my morning hot chocolate.

I am, quite honestly, shitting my pants that I won't find another job. I, like many others, have financial obligations to meet. I could see this as yet another punch in the face, another gaping chasm in a life full of too many holes to fill. However, I am going to attempt to address the effort ahead of me with ease. It is my new motto and I am going to embrace it.

I know that I will lose sight of it; I will drop it and I will forget it at times. But I will continue to pick it up. Start again and proclaim to the world that I fear is out to destroy me and bring me down into a whimpering pile of tears: "Fuck you!". I do not give you permission to destroy me. I have worked too hard to be undone again. I will not be torn apart and ripped to shreds.

So, I take a deep breath. I sit up straight. I lift my head up and, as I exhale, I mentally picture pummeling my fist into the face of my boss. Not really. Okay only a little bit but enough so it hurts. No, seriously. I breathe in and out and try to let it go so I can focus on what needs to be done for me to move forward.

Onwards and upwards!

Let us not discriminate

Mr Abbott, you have some explaining to do. My children will be after you.

Surely the tourism industry will fight this one?

Stupidity reigns supreme

Tony Abbott is a disaster zone - his latest promise? To destroy world heritage listed forest in Tasmania. Rape and pillage Mr Abbott.

I am not against timber harvesting. Forestry is my discipline after all but there is always a line. Logging old growth forest is not sustainable nor advisable. This time the hippies have it right. The Libs better arm themselves for a battle because not even the Timber Industry is going to support this.

True love

I have found true love and it looks like this

Allergies abound

Allergies are rife and affect more people with greater severity than previous generations. In Australia, hospital admissions for allergies have doubled in the last decade.

Personally I am allergic to onions and garlic, stupid people, routine and weeding. But seriously, it's a growing concern. Both my children are allergic to gluten. Being coeliac sucks but there are so many places that will cater for gluten free diet these days (the fashion of the day helps). Hell, even the Pancake Parlour now has "glutton" free pancakes (fuck how I hate those ads).

There are various theories about why allergies are on the increase - hygiene hypothesis, the age of introducing solids and the types of first foods and lower breastfeeding rates. Personally, I believe that the way our food is grown has a bearing on allergies. Monsanto has a lot to answer for.  The commercialisation of food crops to the extent that Monsanto has taken things is just too frightening for words. The evils of Monsanto are too numerous to mention but include the deliberate sterilisation of crops so farmers are forced to purchase seeds rather than save them from the previous year and genetic engineering of seeds to ensure farmers have to not only purchase seed but herbicide and pesticide to ensure optimal growth.

There is a place for organic produce. Not only do small mixed farming business spread our risk when compared to massive monocultures but the food they produce is of higher nutrient content (therefore we need to eat less of it to get the same nutritional value). I truly believe that fresh is best. If I could afford to buy entirely organic produce I would.

I once shared a dream of owning a farm and growing all our own produce but, even with a surburban block and a brown thumb, we can all grow something. I have fresh parsley from my garden in pasta and soups.  This weekend the kids and I will be planting strawberries so we can harvest to our hearts are content later in summer.

Staring is caring

I had to post a letter today. There were a group of men (fine looking construction types, probably in their mid twenties but I am unreliable with age) having a smoke and coffee as I walked to the post office before work. As I passed them I overheard "whoever is tapping that is one lucky bastard". I assumed they were talking amongst themselves and continued walking.

On my way back to the office the same guy stopped me (manmers are so underrated) and said "damn you are fine". I gave my standard response ("you're welcome") and he repeated his initial comment. I smiled as I walked away thinking to myself 'if only he knew'.

Sometimes it is the little things in life that pull you through.

Rinse and repeat

A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds - Ralph Waldo Emerson

I live an unstructured life. I like being able to be spontaneous. I love that I have no standard commitments. If I want to go out on a Tuesday night I can.

There are people that have to live with routine. Knowing what is coming is important to them. Some even have set meals on specific days. That would not roll for me. I would be bored by week two. I cannot do mundane. I am not built for routine. I refuse to become a sheeple.

Living solo

I hate being alone. Firstly, I miss my children terribly. Secondly, I am so full of love and I want to share that with someone. However, I am loathe if I am going to spend my whole day feeling shit about myself. So, I set myself the task of coming up with ten great things about living alone; contained herein:

1. My music, my shows, my choice whenever I want
2. I return to a house that is in the same state I left it in (no additional mess to deal with)
3. If I want to run the dishwasher and washing machine at 2300 there will be no complaints
4. I can have the heater on when others would deem it unnecessary
5. No complaints when I don't want to cook
6. If I have to stay back at work I don't have to stress about letting anyone know where I am
7. I don't cop an earful when I walk out the door without packing lunch (I'm a big girl now and if I am disorganised then it's me that will suffer)
8. Flowers don't have to be confined to the kitchen, they can be displayed on the bathroom bench instead
9. The bed is always made when I get into it at night and when I leave home in the morning
10. (and I admit that I am clutching at straws here) I can make a nudie run from the bathroom after my shower

Monkey mind

I have what yogi call a monkey mind; it jumps all over the place. Furthermore, it is overwhelmingly self-critical; sometimes without reason. In fact, berating myself is one of my most refined skills. I generally dislike everything about me and I scold myself terribly as a result of any shortfall.

If anything goes badly I wonder if it is my fault. I am incapable of seeing positive in myself even though I can rationalise my strengths if I put my mind to it.

I frequently wonder why I am the way that I am. Does genetics play a part? Is upbringing involved? What is there I can do to change the way that I am?

So I turn to the only resource I have - Google. I have tried many things to "remedy" myself from mindfulness to yoga, breathing techniques, relaxation, guided and solo meditation; I have tried it all.

Acceptance is next. But I fear that is the way of the weak. Rather than work through the messy pile of shit, I just move on. Sweep another pile of debris under the carpet and hope I don't trip up on the way out. Sounds risky and short-sighted to me!

I will not apologise

I have high standards.  Mainly of myself but sometimes for the people around me. I am fussy when it comes to food, I try to dress well and I will not stoop in the way I conduct myself to suit others. I choose to live in a way that makes me proud of the person I am today.

I have been told that I am impossible. Perhaps this is true. But I am who I am and I will change for no one. I have taken that path before and it has not served me well. So, like the most divine Ms Monroe says "I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best".

I have made choices in the past that I am not proud of. I have been ashamed of myself for many years. I am now taking steps to move forward from that and I will let go of even the most awesome of people if they drag me down. I will never again let someone stand in my way. I am not bitchy about it.  Quite the contrary, I am thoughtful and considerate to a fault. But I come first now. I will not lower my standards to accommodate others. I would rather go without than settle for second best. 

I know that this means that I will go without a lot of things. I know that I will forgo immediate satisfaction for long term gain. I refuse, however, to look back at my life in a decade and be disappointed. I choose not to apologise for my high standards for those who really want to be in my life will rise to the challenge. They will step up to meet me and it will be worth their while to do so.  

I choose to surround myself with people that bring out the best in me; with people that make me think and who push me beyond my current boundaries to achieve greater things. 

I just want... More

A friend posted on Facebook that her housemate had left her a twirl (chocolate bar) on her pillow. What she really wanted was a hot man.

I'd go further than that. My hot man needs to have a deep voice, a sense of humour, an adventurous spirit and a kind heart. He needs to be great in bed and a good cook. He needs to massage my headaches away and hold me at night. He needs to be independent but loyal. Above all he needs to love my kids as much as I do.

So, if you see my hot man in your travels, be sure to let him know where I am because I'm starting to worry that he won't find his way.

Hope

Hope is a four letter word. It creates desire for the unattainable. It makes us believe we can change our course. It gives us a false sense of peace and a quiet satisfaction. It allows us to defer to tomorrow what we should be doing today. It makes us look forward to something that will probably never happen. It sets unrealistic expectations and leads, inevitably, to disappointment.

It's all about breakfast

Breakfast is my favourite meal of the day; not only because I love mornings but for the fact that I love the choices (and because few breakfasts contain onion, garlic and beans).

I am a fan of pancakes and fruit toast, I love muesli and berries, New York bagels and smashed avocado on sourdough bread. Fresh fruit salad in summer and pastries (think croissants with homemade jam and those delicious cinnamon snail things) in winter.  Freshly squeezed juices and steaming hot chocolate.

I love the relaxed pace of eating breakfast out. If you can find a spot out of the wind and in the sun outside all the better!

This morning I treated myself to breakfast out.  Due to the skydive (and the fact that I suffer with motion sickness) the only meal I had yesterday was dinner.  Ergo, I woke hungry with nothing suitable in the house as I had not done any grocery shopping.

I went to a gorgeous place that came highly recommended, the Brunswick Flour Mill.  I sat in the glorious warm spring sunshine while I dined. I took the path less travelled and ordered scrambled eggs with feta ad torn basil, thyme roasted tomatoes (fresh herbs are the bomb!) and a side of avocado. It was divine! I am not a huge fan of eggs and feta is one of my least favourite cheeses but the combination was actually okay (hunger makes the best sauce!).  I have to admit that it is not something I would order again but it filled the protein void. The bread was passable, thick without being chunky, but too crusty for my liking. The hot chocolate was hot and chocolatey without being bitter so I consider that a win. Don't serve me tepid watery crap!

The only downside this morning was the traffic noise. Sydney Road, with all the cars and trams, is never quiet. Apparently not even before nine on a Sunday.

It was just me and the perfectly volumed music from expertly disguised speakers. While I believe all meals are better for sharing, I am not opposed to being alone (a good thing considering my current circumstances). I am not afraid to go out by myself. I am not embarrassed to be seen alone. However, unless I have something to do, I hate being alone at home - the emptiness and quiet bothers me. But out in the world, although I am by myself I am okay.

Abbottoir

I am disgraced to be an Australian. I am not impressed (nor surprised) that Abbott is in power. 

Our two major political parties are a farce. One is led by a misogynistic homophobe the other with constant power struggles. I'm taking my bat and ball and going home only to resurface at the next election and hope to see sense. 

I might fly today

For me, there is nothing more satisfying than doing something someone says you cannot. I tore my medial cruiciate ligament in a skiing accident in my early twenties. I was told by my (very highly qualified and experienced) orthopedic surgeon that I would never walk or run again without surgery. Considering he had a vested interest and I don't trust the medical profession (and tipped over by the fact that I could not afford the surgery and was not covered by insurance) I declined the surgery. I spent a week researching the specific injury; studying my xrays, ultrasounds and MRIs and devised my own physio routine. I cried through six weeks of intensive water work. Literally. I had tears streaming down my face with the pain.

However, I refused to accept that I could never again run or play netball. I refused to accept defeat. So I built up strength. Slowly but surely. After six weeks I could walk without crutches. I still struggled terribly going down stairs. So I did more research. I joined a gym and spent an hour a day doing leg weights.

In a month I was back to running. I started off on the treadmill and worked up from there.  It was a full year before I was strong enough to play netball.  But I did.  And, nearly two decades on I still do.

Today, I jumped out of a plane. Not necessarily because it is something I have always wanted to do (which is true; I've had it on my bucket list since my teens) but because my ex would not allow me to do it. It is my "it's okay" for enabling my ex to control my life. It is not healthy to continue to berate myself for things that happened in the past. It is time to let go of the guilt and start to forgive myself.  Everyone makes mistakes. It is time to move. Onwards and upwards. Like with my knee, my progress may be slower than I had hoped but I'm still moving forward and getting stronger. With each passing day I can see the old me coming back. She's stuck inside but she's still there.

I'm not proud of myself. I feel shame every day at the choices I have made and the resultant position I am in but I am not going to be here forever. Today I will smile and show everyone that I am stronger than I was yesterday.

Repeat ad nauseam.

Self care

I don't want to be alone
I don't want to be a last resort
I don't want to be a time-filler
I don't want to be an afterthought

Considering these things, my focus is on self care. I have abused my body and neglected my brain for too long.  It is time now to put myself first; to ensure that I meet my own needs for I can rely on no one.  I am forging ahead and accepting my circumstances as best I can.  I know that there will be days perhaps even weeks when things unravel or fall apart completely but I am going to try to equip myself as best I can.

I will strengthen my body by going to the gym. I will harden my heart with running. I will stretch myself with yoga. I will eat whole foods. I will stimulate my mind by learning a language and a musical instrument. I will write to soothe my inner child. I will breathe deeply and let go of all the toxic shit I have been carrying around. I will spend time learning to relax. I will try to sleep.

When I fail, as I inevitably will, I will pick myself up off the floor and try again for it is hard to beat a person that never gives up.