Let’s talk about it.

Yikes! Love it tho!!

evieb70

Who is up for a bit of controversy? Alright then, let’s talk about sex. Sorry girls I am going to let the cat out of the bag. A thousand apologies, but I for one have had enough and I think I deserve more.

Sex that is. I still love sex, in all it’s forms. And I am angry. White hot, distracting and consuming angry. Men, how often do you complain that you are not getting enough sex? And how often do you blame it on us? News flash, the reason you are not getting laid is because of you.

I will always be a girl. No matter how many years we have been together, how many kids there are, no matter how much your job sucks. I. Am. Still. A. Girl. I reckon you men have been around girls for long enough now to know a thing or two about…

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My world and all the stars in it.

You come to me at night in my dreams, did you know that?  And when you do, you share your pain with me.  I am there as some of life’s things feel like sandpaper on your soul.  Nothing I see is a surprise to me, but I do wish you didn’t have to go through this.

Everything you are feeling and thinking is okay.  The same way that it is okay for someone with diabetes to have a hypo, or someone with migraines to need to sleep for days, or someone with Alzhiemers to forget your name.

You come from a gene pool of highly anxious people, on both sides of your family.  It is not your fault and you are not weak or stupid because of it.  Good news is, each generation has been breaking through it earlier and earlier.  By my calculations you are nearly there.  Bet it doesn’t feel like it huh?  One of the best things about being human, is our ability to reinvent ourselves, give ourselves a clean slate.  Time helps us do that.  And knowledge.  Knowledge about our condition, the human psyche, different ways of thinking.

I can’t take this away for you, but I can love you, warts and all, just the way you are.  I can accept you, warts and all, just the way you are.  I know that when I tell you how amazing you are, it is suffocating.  That it feels like a big, black fog is going to drown you.  Because it challenges everything you believe about yourself, especially when you just feel oily and icky and gross.  And that challenge is confronting and overwhelming and too big to deal with.

Thoughts are not facts.  Just because you believe something or think something, it doesn’t mean it is true. Heck, we would still be living on a flat planet if beliefs were facts.  Every now and then in life, we are lucky enough to get a flash of how worthy and perfect we are.  My prayer for you every day is that today is one of the days that happens for you.

I have not always done right by you.  My sole shame in life.  My best I had to give in that minute was not always  in your best interest.  There are not enough sorry’s in the world to express my regret over that.  I can rationalize and make sense of it to myself and you all I like, but often what we know intellectually and what we know emotionally are worlds apart.  That space in between is a mine field of hurt, anger, pain, loathing, fear and shame.  And so darn exhausting and murky, til it feels like there are not enough hours in a lifetime to cry all those many thousands of tears that fill your chest up so full you can’t breathe.

This isn’t all there is for you.  It is but one part of a very complex, often changing and rewarding journey.  It is but one very small part of who you are.  The same way your favorite band or opinion on politics is but one very small part of who you are.  Think of all the ‘stuff’ you didn’t know 5, 10, 15 years ago and how you know it now.  Bit smart aren’t ya!

The world needs you in it.  It needs your kindness, your generosity, your social conscience, your laughter, your friendship.  It needs you to do the things you are passionate about, to raise more who are just like you, your empathy and ability to accept people as they are.

I have faith in you.

The thing about goals is …

Blerk, this is sooooo me lol

Live to Write - Write to Live

Are you finding that you aren’t achieving any of the writing goals you’ve set for yourself?

Do you notice you have (valid) excuses for not being able to achieve your writing goals?

Do you find yourself answering the question, “So, what are you working on?” with “Nothing at the moment.”?

It can feel awkward and embarrassing, right?

Do you think you might want an easier path? An easier career?

When months go by and you aren’t making any strides toward accomplishing the goals you’ve set for yourself, consider that you don’t truly want to be a writer.

Because the bottom line is: writers write.

Writers find ways to carve out the time and do whatever it takes to reach their goals.

If You're Committed

If you’re not achieving what you set out for yourself earlier in the year, why not take now to recommit to those goals? Stop thinking something better or easier is…

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Inside my head, today.

I’m not suicidal in the manner of which I have a plan for suicide but I would still like to be dead. I just don’t think I’m a very nice person. Death is with me all the time. When I think about spending the next 40+ years feeling the same way I have felt the last 40+ years, I don’t think I can face it. I feel things so overwhelmingly, so invasively that it impairs my behaviour and my judgement. To think of the next 40 years still feeling that knot in my stomach, the tears jammed in the bottom of my throat, the panic in my mind, the loathing I have for myself and the impact that has on the people that matter most to me, I can’t see the point. Why would I want to inflict that on other people?

I’m so ashamed of myself. I look back at how I shut myself down and make myself unavailable to people, how is that fair on them? Who would want to live like that? I don’t finish stuff, I give up, I’m irrational. When I see my partner’s pain for example it overwhelms me the point where I can’t comprehend or choose an action other than to shut myself down. I look at what my illness has done to him, I have such regret. Then comes the fear, he will leave me of course because who wants to live with a shadow of a person. It’s lonely, it’s tiring, it’s unfulfilling and endless. How can I ask anyone to live their life like that? When I don’t want to live my life like that. I’m so tired, so scared, so full of loathing. I don’t want to be here in this life anymore.

I’m so lonely and so sad. There is this disengagement between me and people and that space is filled with just scary shit. I should know how to make my partner my best friend but is it my ego, my illness, his ego or am I just not good enough. I see the easy exchanges between people, best friends, husband and wife, parent and child and I feel like such a failure. I feel like a paper doll trying to walk through a cyclone. I hate this illness.

I don’t want to be me anymore. I’m tired of being ashamed, of being embarrassed. I see what my illness has turned my children into, I see what my illness has turned my partner into. I think back over the past and I see how my illness has turned everyone away and I don’t want to go on. I don’t want to keep trying. When you see that light go out of somebody from the stress of dealing with you it’s horrific. I don’t know what to do.

Apparently I’m a smart person, but surely a smart person would find the key to getting rid of this shit. Apparently I am a strong person but then why do I feel so weak? Right now I feel like I am having a heart attack my chest is painful and it feels like my throat is being squeezed from the inside. The upper part of my chest is full of tears that I’m too tired and too afraid to shed. My right arm has tremors, I feel sweaty and clammy and the thought of food makes me ill. There is a scream lodged at the top of my throat but I’m too uptight to let it out.

My head. Oh so full of panic and unkind words toward myself. I am subhuman. I am not skilled enough to tackle the professional world. I should just die and be done with it. I am humiliated, shamed and angry. I feel stupid. I am stupid. I will never amount to anything in this world. My breath wants to rasp in my throat like an asthma attack.

I keep blurting words and phrases out loud over and over. I am going to die. I am going to die. Stop it, stop it. Help me please help me. Which is fine, sort of, when I’m at home. But today I am on the train. So I am trying to distract myself so I don’t speak out loud in public.

I am fidgety. At the train station, instead of waiting quietly for the train, my feet were shuffling constantly, taking me slowly in repeating circles on the same spot. I feel oily and slimy, I keep shaking my head from side to side. No. No. No. No. The clicking of my tongue on the roof of my mouth as I say that is strangely comforting.

There is no room in my lungs for air. I feel lightheaded and buzzy, my face is tingling. The sounds of the people and the train are very abrasive and I find myself jumping at noises and the movements I catch out of the corner of my eye. My neck muscles are tight and sore my shoulder aches like a bitch, making my left arm feel weak and useless.

A lot of the noise in my head is implied, making it difficult for me to capture exactly what is going on in there. It is equally difficult for me to capture exactly how disgraceful and contaminated the sounds make me feel. Way, way in the back of my head there is a little voice telling me to hold on. That this too will pass and I will be back in the land of the living. I crave that feeling of peace and surety that is missing right now.

I am angry with myself for not managing this better. I have felt this building up and have done the right things, yet here I find myself again. While not suicidal, I certainly would not argue if God came knocking to take me home. Why can I not stay in front of this for any great length of time? It is not like I sit on my hands and do nothing to manage it. I have been calling Lifeline, I have been slowly working on my goals. I have been meditating, writing, talking to others. Yet still I find myself here.

I feel like such a burden. My partner already has enough on his plate and I am loathe to add more. I think the strain of me is taking its toll. I feel so guilty for that. He must be wondering what he has got himself into, saddled with this person with big dreams and no runs on the board.

My suicidality must feel like an enormous rejection to the people who love me. In my mind I imagine how overwhelming that sense of powerless to make things different must feel for them. I picture it wearing them down making their world smaller and darker and louder. My solution to that is to not share with them. But they know I am holding back from them which makes them feel powerless, makes their world smaller and darker and louder. So the end result for them is the same. So I can’t see why anyone would want to be with me.

It’s not me, it’s you

A few weeks ago, I got myself a new job. Yay me.  I picked what I imagined would be a nice safe place to work, not far from home.  After my previous experience, I just didn’t have it in me to tackle a full time corporate environment so, part time it was, even though I was employed in a senior role. From the very first day my new employer displayed behaviors I just wasn’t comfortable with.  She told the staff off publicly, bagged them out to the other staff, discouraged meal breaks, asked you to stay longer almost every time you came in, micro-managed everyone to within an inch of their lives and set unrealistic workloads for them.

 

I was wary of raising these issues with her as I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t over-reacting based on my most recent experience and was concerned that my message wouldn’t be taken seriously based on the fact I am setting up an anti-bullying training and education business.  In short, I didn’t want to be seen as a zealot.  I felt that my statements would have little credibility based on these things.

 

Anyway, a few weeks into the job and the HR firm called to check in with me to see how things were travelling and to pass on the positive feedback they were hearing about me.  After ensuring our conversation would remain confidential, I expressed my concerns and stressed that I wasn’t prepared to raise them at this stage as I felt that not enough time had passed for my observations to be 100% accurate.  HR and I came to an agreement on who would raise which issues and when. 

 

The very next day at work my employer asked if we could have a chat, to which I said of course.  Right from the interview stage my employer and I had established a straight up style of communication, something that was important to her as she had recently had some negative experiences with staff not speaking up and she was keen to break that pattern.  Needless to say, I was annoyed when she said that HR had called her and said I had some concerns, I felt cornered and betrayed.  However, I raised a few of the issues I had discussed with HR, how could I not?  As graciously and as kindly as I could I explained to her that by bagging out the other staff as she did it became difficult for anyone to develop more than the required sense of loyalty she was entitled to as signer of our pay cheque.  I went on to explain that being publicly reprimanded was very dis-empowering and de-motivating for the staff, witnesses and targets alike and that I was concerned this would continue to negatively impact on her business which she was clearly very passionate about.  She thanked me for being courageous enough to bring this up and for trusting her enough with this, we both teared up a little and went on with our day.  As the day went on, she thanked me again several times for our conversation.  I was relieved.  I had spoken up and not was not shut down and our relationship had improved as a consequence.  Phew.

 

Back to work the next day, and she again asked for a conversation, sure, be happy to I said.  Apparently she had discussed our  conversation with her husband the previous evening and he had agreed that she was too serious with the staff and needed to build better relationships with them, as a consequence, my position was no longer available. Ok.  However they would still need a receptionist and I was welcome to apply for that.  After a little discussion, I agreed to take on that position and it was arranged that HR would call me on Monday to arrange to transfer the role.  No problem.  An hour later, as I was leaving for the day, she asked for my keys back and to make sure my time book was up to date, a formality required by HR apparently.  Then she wished me good luck with the rest of my life and my own business.  Hmmmm, not quite the agreement we had made not more than  an hour ago.

 

By the way, did I mention that my employer was a psychologist?  Surely someone a little above such a passive aggressive response to feedback that she requested.