So the week begins

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Above is a small insight into where I live. I had a million things to write in this blog when I wrote the title and took the picture, now, sitting my bed, with a candle lit, watching the clock, telling myself it’s time to sleep, having written a story I’m freaking out a little about, listening to music that makes it all a little better. At the same time, reminding myself I should not use the word ‘that’ so often, and I should really learn to spell check everything, and proof read too.

Life is this crazy sort of ladder, you spend years going through primary school, feeling so out of your depth, not knowing what to do, then you finally reach your final year – on top of the world, and you made it. Then you start intermediate, from the bottom again, having no idea what to do.

So it goes, eventually, you make your way out of college, apprenticeship etc. You start work, once again, it’s a whole new world and you’re in it, waist deep, but you learnt to swim – thank goodness – but it’s just as daunting as that first day at primary school.

My boss is away for two weeks, I get to step up and take over while she’s away. There has never been a moment where I doubted my ability to do so. It is one of the strange things about me, it takes serious failure to make me doubt myself.

However, rather than waist deep, I’m treading water. I’m really bad at floating. I’m a sink or swim sort of person. So, I want to do the best possible job I can – and then better some more.

I have my floaties on just in case. I can do it. But I’m also scared. Few things scare me, but failure is one of them.

But fear is what drives us, or me at least, to fear of failure keeps me up late at night, it makes me work harder to correct mistakes, to prevent mistakes.

And I want to sleep, I want to hide, I want to run. But I also, want to be better than I know I can be.

A friend seemed surprised I didn’t work on weekends. I do, sometimes, actually work. But the honest truth is I never stop working. Even when I’m not writing in the office or interviewing, I don’t stop. My mind thinks of different angles, it takes lessons and uses then in small talk conversations, it tries to piece together different puzzles to make it all work.

I am always working. Even in my sleep. Because I am a writer. I don’t ever stop being a writer.

So, can I do it? Yep. Is it a big deal? Nope. Am I still going to worry? Sure am. Will I look back and laugh because I was so scared? Definitely. Will things go wrong? Pretty certain. Is it the end of the world? Most definitely not. Am I excited? Sure am.

I live off fear, it’s why I jump horses, snow board down mountains, jump off and out of things, why I love heights. I love fear – it motivates me.

So bring on tomorrow.

Enough of my weird ramble. I’ll try to be funny some other time.

Cheerio.

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You do not give up.

Giving up is hard. For me it simply isn’t an option. Anyone who has ever fought hard to get somewhere knows what I am on about. Giving up is the thing you can’t afford to think about or you’ll break, you wont make it. It is not an option. I had never given up on anything until I was told my horse had arthritis, at 7. It broke my heart. It still does. People don’t get that. I often get told I’m competitive. I’m not. I’m scared, terrified that things wont work. I don’t believe in myself and I don’t have much faith in other people. 

When you’re a horse rider, you simply learn to never give up. It is not an option. 

Then I had to. I had to stop getting that amazing rush when you take a 500 kg animal flying through the air, around corner and then you win. You’re the one who was better, the best. Sometimes you don’t make it but granted most of those times, it’s because you started to doubt. 

If you’re facing 1.30 on the back of that animal, the one you’ve spent an hour or two or three or more with, every, single, day for the past 4 years, and you doubt that you’ll make it over, you often don’t. So after flying over that jump solo with the horse looking at you like you’re a freaking idiot, you get it. You get that you don’t doubt, because doubting is painful. 

I never got on the back of my horse to win. Not once did I go into a ring wanting to win. I wanted the rush, that addiction filler, that satisfaction of having given it my best shot, of pushing myself. Of being better than I was last time. To feel that incredible, indescribable feeling. I was, and never have been competitive. Not because I can’t, but because I don’t want to be. It is pointless to compete against other people because there will always be someone better. I compete with myself, to be the best I possibly can, to not give up. I push myself because I do not want to stop. I know I can do it, so I do. 

Does it bother me when people tell me I’m competitive? Yes. Not because it is a flaw, but because it means they have no idea who I really am. I want the best for every person I meet, I want them to succeed and if that sometimes means giving things up so they can, I will. But it does not mean I will ever give up completely. I do not want to be the best, I want to be better. 

 

Tie her up with red ribbons

Competition. It’s fantastic. It is… I’m not being sarcastic. I think it truly brings out the worst in people- the real person lurking beneath the face we like to masquerade around in front of people. Competition is something I am very familiar with. Once again I will point out I am a horse rider. One who potters around on my overly energetic, better cared for than myself, horse jumping brightly coloured objects and solid one’s when I get bored. Needless to say this post is written somewhat from a mad woman’s point of view.

I have won my fair share of first placings. Parading around in front of all the people who said I couldn’t do it with my pretty red ribbons. It’s a nice feeling. Until your horse spooks and throws you straight into the path of the people you were trying to impress. To put it simply: horse riding teaches you in a very literal way- pride comes before a fall.

I will never forget the priceless moment when someone I was rather jealous of won. Hands down a great rider. Then, as he was coming out of the ring on his horse with his nice shinny ribbon and no doubt large smile of pride on his face (rightfully so I might add). The next moment I turn around to see his horse go one way and him… well he kept going the other. 

Life is just like that. Horse riding just sort’ve puts in an example format that not many of us actually appreciate. 

I think we all earn our share of red ribbons. Those moments we can look back on and say ‘wow we actually did it’. But at the end of the day there is no time for pride. Take the wins, learn from the losses and congratulate the people who kicked your ass- even if you don’t think they deserved it. 

Because sometimes, you’re going to be the person who wins and sometimes you’re going to be the person who falls flat on your ass. And it’s going to hurt like hell. 

But that’s just competition for you. 

Jealousy my old friend.

Jealousy is a funny thing. It the little green monster that creeps its way through a relationship slowly eating it from the inside out. Ok thats kind’ve gross. But it really is the best way to describe the kind of destruction it can cause.

I’m easily angered, especially by things that are a direct dig at my self-esteem. Most of the time I find it funny. Sometimes I find it surprising, but almost all of the time it catches me out. I tend to get angered and pissy before I can even realize that its the little green monster working its way back into my relationships.

I’m not the jealous type. I am however, very competitive. This tends to end up with me intentionally making people jealous, in order to win. What ever strange competition that may be. It’s not that I’m not jealous because I’m an ‘up myself little fairy’ its more because I don’t often care enough to be jealous. Oh that sounds shockingly terrible! But I said I’d be honest on here.

So, my point in all this late night gabble. Jealously can be a tooting fruiting beeper that really does get in the way of realizing -you’re actually pissing someone off!- If they’re jealous, sometimes it means you’re winding them up. Or maybe that’s just me. Either way, I don’t think it’s always a one sided thing. I think sometimes you’ve just got to catch it before it escalates into something mind bogglingly, soul eating destructiveness.

Worse than the bogey man.