One of those moments

It’s 5.09pm and I got home from work over half an hour ago. I spent most of the time since I drove in the driveway sitting in my car and lying on my bed with my cat. That might not seem like anything particularly special, but for those who know Charlie the cat it’s a pretty big deal.

Charlie doesn’t sleep on beds. Ever. And he freaks out when I put him on them. But today, a day where I don’t particularly want to face the world, Charlie cat let me not only put him on the bed, but lie down and have a nap beside him. He’s currently still curled up in a bun like formation while I type away at my desk.

Some days are hard. Your guess is as good as mine as to why. But this week my new life has begun to really sink in. The kind of sink where you slowly slip into a lukewarm pool and can’t quite tell if you’re 100 per cent happy about it, but you’re still glad to be there.

I’ve gone from a very body confident, reliable decision maker to a constantly uncertain, emotionally reserved and body conscious individual. I’m not sure how I got from there to here. There’s plenty of good changes too. I think. I can’t list them right now, but they are there. I know how to stand my ground and to be confident in what I do for work. That’s something.

This might sound weird, but a year ago I was a ‘go to person’ one of those people you have in your life for when it gets tough. The person you turn to to talk about anything. The person you need at the end of a rough day…someone who just sort of fixes things.

Somewhere along the road I became allergic to drama, to emotions, to anything that even remotely resembles someone needing me.

And I have no idea why.

At some point I just kind of stopped giving a shit.

And people stopped needing, they stopped talking, and they too stopped caring.

I think when big changes occur in someones life and when they go through challenging times, it’s easy to forget healing takes a long time. A really, really long time.

And people who weren’t there through it don’t realise how patient they need to be. But the people who were there through it often aren’t there any longer.

Someone can look fine but in reality they’re still struggling, they’re still broken, and they’re still healing.

I think the number one relationship killer ,whether it be friendship or romantic, is complacency and lack of respect.

I don’t mean respect in the term you might be picturing it in. I mean it in the way of listening to ideas and advice, listening to that persons way of viewing the world…and caring about it. By complacency I mean people stop caring about the answer to ‘how was your day’ they stop wanting that person to be happy, they stop wanting that person to smile. People just start to go about their own lives forgetting to ask and care: “how are you really doing?”

It’s amazing how easily and how quickly it happens.

And I’m terrified of it.

I’m also exhausted.

Maybe because for me part of my healing process means it takes a lot of energy to be open, to love, to care, to let people in. I don’t know if that ever gets easier, but I keep on trying hoping it eventually will.

This week I’ve started to appreciate my city and the morning drive to work. I’ve tried hard to walk around town more at lunch time, to come up with new places to take my horse; to genuinely live here.

But man, it is not easy. I still miss Hamilton. I miss the people. But I am starting to live here and in all honesty, I’ve made some incredible friends here so far I’d be sad to leave if I ever moved back. This is home. And it’s starting to feel like that.

But it doesn’t mean it’s not hard. I think after any period, long or short, of hardship it takes years to adjust again. This is probably the most time I’ve spent alone or even wanted to spend alone in nearly a year.

I’ve spent a year hiding.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve slowly addressed things as I felt I was capable. I’ve tried my best to counsel and work my way through the hurt bits and the crappy bits and ‘fix’ myself. But up until this point I’ve needed people. I’ve needed to see and be around people to remind myself it’s ok.

And now, I think I’m slowly learning how to be ok alone again and how to cope with myself.

I have a thyroid scan in a weeks time. I’m both nervous and excited. I want to know where it’s at. Has the nodule grown? Will I have to have a life changing operation? Will I not? I play it down but it plays on my mind almost constantly. And that’s just the reality of it.

I think somedays, I just want to feel unconditionally loved, and I want to unconditionally love myself too. I want that love for myself. I want to be in that space again where I don’t question if I’m a hard person to love, where I don’t feel like I’m still a bit broken, where I just feel like a whole human. A few weeks back I wrote a post about how I finally felt like I was no longer recovering. And I feel like that most of the time now.

But with any recovery there are set backs.

And this is just one of those moments.

This blog got a lot more real than I was anticipating. I think Sam ought to bring my red wine to me and I will lie on my bed with Charlie cat and watch crappy soaps.

Till next time x

 

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Don’t dig your heals in and hold the door frame

I’ve been trying to hold back tears at work this morning. My throat is a little bit sore and my tummy isn’t loving me today so it could just be I’m getting sick and being emotional comes from that. But it’s a very strange mix of happy emotions and sad. As I sat looking at my Instagram (bet there hasn’t been an emotion inducing sentence quite like that before), I couldn’t help but be a little in love with my life and incredibly sad that things are moving on.

While I was travelling I noticed something about the way I viewed the world; I began to fall in love with how things smelt, how they felt, with the perfectly imperfectness of it. I fell in love with cloudy, rainy days in the mountains, with the bad smells in the markets in Cambodia, with the loneliness of travelling Vietnam by myself, with the stupid bike with the flat tire and plastic seat that caused chaffing. All the things that were wrong made it something. I loved the perfect things, but I was in love with the imperfect ones. They were what tested my character and what I noticed made the biggest changes in my personality.

I can’t deny the statement of ‘I was a different person when I came home’. It’s so cliché I haven’t wanted to use that so far. But I can’t think of any way around it. I was a much harder person, my heart had a much smaller capacity to love, and my walls refused to allow me the luxury of being in love with anything.

The world is an incredible thing to be in love with.

So where does all the emotion today come from? Well, when I came back from that trip, life was anything but perfect and it was anything but what I expected, but I loved it. I don’t think I’ve ever just relaxed, let my walls down, let my guard down and enjoyed where life was going like I did then. It’s normal I want to keep hold of that.

But things are changing, in great, wonderful, spectacular ways, but they’re different. That photo on my Instagram, a really lovely imperfect black and white shot of my besty and I on our last walk before she heads away, captured all of that. It captured how incredible being in love with the imperfect is – with the things that catch you off guard, that surprise you from nowhere.

I’m fighting back tears she’s leaving. And I’m incredibly happy that I feel that way. It means I’ve learnt to care deeply and not to shut off because it’s hard to say goodbye.

It’s easy to get caught up in life and just keep moving; we rarely stop to appreciate the moment of change, or how far we’ve come.

It’s not easy to move on from things you’ve left behind. Actually, it’s really bloody hard.

I spent several years looking on Facebook at people horse riding and competing. It was torture to see them doing what I expected to be doing. But just because it was hard to move on didn’t mean it was what I was meant to be doing it. It just meant it meant something to me. I loved competing, but there came a time where that wasn’t where I was headed anymore. It’s not my journey, it’s someone else’s. It’s what I thought was mine. But it wasn’t. It’s prepared me for many, many more journeys though.

When I watched my best friend get married and my little sister get engaged I struggled. That was the journey I wanted to be on, what I thought was what I was meant to be doing. But I was wrong at the time. It doesn’t mean it won’t be my journey, it’s just not where I was meant to be at the time. I struggled because it meant something to me, not because what I wanted was right.

Now I sit and see journalists ace stories, I see people doing my job well, I see people winning and making waves and I hear of good stories and I pine after it. I wanted it so badly to be me. But I know, deep down, where I’m headed now is where I am meant to be heading. I miss it, because it meant something, not because it’s where I should be now.

And there are days I still miss the farm. I still see photos of life back then and I miss it. I still get along with Alex. The last time we spoke it was like old friends catching up. But that doesn’t mean it was right. It’s not what either of us needed any longer. And sometimes I struggle with that because it meant something to me.

We all struggle to move on because it meant something. But staying put and chasing the past does not get that back. It doesn’t make it right.

We want to run back to what is familiar and comfortable when times are tough. When we see great change ahead it’s normal to want to run and hide under our blankets and let life stay where it is; where it’s comfortable.

Making things happen, being something, achieving something, satisfaction, love, being in love, travel… all of it is incredible, all of it is within our reach…but don’t ever expect it to feel comfortable.

You’re stepping outside of a comfort zone, that’s how you get somewhere. It’s never going to feel comfortable.

I imagined life to be much more ‘collected’ – a series of events which take place in a controlled chronological order. But it’s not at all. It’s often an unpredictable series of events, at times the events don’t always make sense. But you’ll look back one day and realise what those stepping stones, those branches that smacked you in the face, that mud which held you back, those roots you tripped over… were there for.

When you’re feeling the least comfortable, when you know deep down moving on is right, achieving is right, but you’re still stuck wanting what is familiar, think to yourself, back to a time in your life you struggled to let go and just think, what would life be like if it had never changed from then? Would you really still be happy if it had stayed exactly the same?

Would I be happy if things had stayed the same? No way.

I wouldn’t have a boyfriend who twirls me around the supermarket or turns up to work with flowers. I wouldn’t have had the balls to apply for the police, to start running, to study psychology. Heck, if life had stayed as wonderful as it first was when I started my job as a journalist I never would have left, I never would have gone overseas. Things change because we need them to, not always because we want them to.

Am I 100 per cent happy with where I am right now? No way. But I am in love with my life in every imperfect detail and every day I wake up proud of how far I have come and excited about what I can achieve… even the things I have no comprehension of right now. God’s got it.

But I struggle still to let go completely, to move on entirely, and to trust that there is a season for everything.

Who doesn’t?

So on that note, I’m off to continue eating my popcorn and sipping my tea, waiting for that 2pm to come around and for me to race out of here in search of weekend freedom!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#atleastIhavemywine #Ishouldprobablybloglessaboutwine #andstopusinghashtags

Ok so I know I’ve been really slack with my blog posting…but there is a reason. I think. Well, it’s an excuse. Despite what it may seem like (while you’re all sitting there cringing while reading about my life) I’m really crappy at talking about how I feel. I’m quite good at getting other people to talk about how they do, and I’m good at talking enough about mine to cover up the fact I’m not really saying or admitting anything. To be fair, it was something I’d never really noticed before I met Sam. I knew I liked to keep stuff to myself, but I never realised how MUCH stuff I liked to keep to myself.

Pretty much the more I like someone, the less I can tell them. AND IT’S REALLY DRIVING ME NUTS. And preventing me from blogging honestly, which really then means blogging at all is pointless.

(I’ve decided to capitalize random things in this post…and also put random editing notes in brackets through it to stop me from editing the actual content)

After a breakup I tend to reflect on all the things I could have done better. I don’t mean I sit there blaming myself, I just like to improve on things. I don’t think anyone is ever a complete person; we’re always growing. So it makes sense to use every opportunity to improve things when you can.

So I know this is something I REALLY need to work on. Up until this point I’ve been drawn to people who like to open up quickly and easily. I often find people who are in need of someone to talk to; someone to trust. I think, because it makes it easier to hide behind how they feel and what they say… essentially it means I never have to ACTUALLY admit what I feel, we can just keep the focus on them until I slip under the radar and people forget to ask. It’s rather unhealthy. But it’s been my safety net, and I think it’s why I never completely fall in love. I never let my walls down completely. It’s a personality thing.

Now I’m in this part of my life where I am growing up and if I want the kind of relationships that come with that; ones that will last and are built on decent foundations, I’m going to have to get over it and learn how to be a grown up with how I process feelings.

I don’t mind if people keep some things to themselves, I don’t get upset about someone’s feelings not matching mine, I don’t get clingy or jealous easily… but that also comes obviously with negatives too, and that is the inability to completely fall for someone or let my guard down. I filter everything I say. It’s a good and a bad thing. I’ve always needed to filter who I am for people to be ok with me.

And I’m not keen to keep living like that.

So I grew some balls and had a decent chat to Sam last night and I’m really glad I did. Because I’m learning, it’s baby steps, but I’m learning to stop holding on for dear life to the cliff top and just enjoy the fall. I think everyone needs to learn how to do that at some point in their life.

I’d never really even done that with myself or with my life until I went travelling.

While watching the sunrise over Angkor Wat, while standing on the top of a mountain in the Austrian Alps, while walking along the lantern lit river in Hoi An at night, I learnt to fall in love with life and appreciate it for all it’s quirks and charms and ups and downs.

While I was crying in my hotel room in Africa because I was struggling to process how different my life was from people there, while I spent two weeks talking to no one in Austria, while I navigated a hospital alone, as I figured out how to walk the streets of Cambodia and catch a tuktuk on my own, when I trusted strangers, while I sat on the pavement in Vietnam eating local food…I learnt to love who I was with no filter.

(I also learnt I have a problem with how much I love coffee and red wine)

I realised who I was; an incredible person, a resilient person, someone who cared deeply about the world, someone who could do incredible things, someone who was not limited by others. But I also realised, the more I learnt to love myself, just how little I let other people love me…who I really am.

The person I am at 2am when I’m still awake worrying about the next day, when I’m jumping up and down with excitement over the stupidest things, when I’m in my ‘bliss zone’ grocery shopping, while I ignore them as I write another book that I’ll probably never finish, when I’m doing the hobbies I love, the way I look at the sunset or the sunrise, the strange thoughts that float around my mind on a long car ride, the big and wild dreams I decide I’m going to embark on because why the hell not? I’m a why not person. I live my life taking on everything unless you can give me a bloody good reason not to. It means I do some really stupid things sometimes, but it also means I go and will go incredible places and do big things. I want that for my life. Even if they’re little big things. I want life to be bigger and unlimited by what I might be afraid of. And ultimately I want someone beside me who feels the same way, who wants to push me to do that, who does not ‘tolerate’ my personality but rather brings the positives and helps me overcome the negatives. I need someone to constantly challenge me to be a better person, but feel safe enough that they’re going to love me even when I’m a really crappy person.

(And when I listen to the same song on repeat 6 million times before I get sick of it.)

I’m happy alone, I just have to learn now how to not only be happy alone but with someone and realise it’s not a bad thing to love people. It’s not a bad thing to fall in love.

It’s ok to be out of control and just see what happens.

Ok so I think my problem with my inability to write blogs comes from this new thing I’ve started doing called ‘editing’. Did any of you realise how much pointless crap I waffle on about on here? I’m sure one day my children will discover the dark archives of my blog and will forever use it as a valid defense in any argument.

*cries into glass of wine and remembers once again why reproducing might be a bad idea*

Anyway! Pretty much what I’m trying to say… is I’m bloody brilliant and I’m fantastically happy and life is moving in this slightly dream like direction… sometimes I’m not quite sure how to handle that because it’s been a little while since I’ve felt this satisfied. Actually, I don’t think I’ve felt quite like this about my life before.

(I’m a perfectionist and I’m not good at this ‘accepting my flaws and realising life can be perfect without being perfect’ thing)

It’s baby steps, I’m learning lots of stuff. I’m enjoying sunsets and sunrises. I have an amazing person by my side and I’m going to miss my bestie like crazy when she moves soon, and I’ll probably cry, but I’m also so damn glad life is moving on for us all in the best possible way.

And it’s Friday.

And I’m visiting a friend tonight and we’re going to have a night out!

Both of those things make me incredibly happy.

#Illalwayshavewinetocuddleifitturnstoshit

 

Roses are red…

I went swimming in the sea yesterday. It was a little bit funny because I spent most of the time being bowled over by the waves and flailing around trying to not drown. I’d swim under one wave and stand up to do that whole ‘flick my hair back while looking hot thing’… and instead was taken out like a skinny rugby player who didn’t run fast enough with the ball by the next wave.

I gave up and just flopped around like a whale. I then lay on the beach to sunbath, trying my best to look like a babe, and managed to be eaten alive by biting insects and now I look like I have some sort of contagious disease. Happy valentines day from the world!

I regularly try to explain to people how I don’t really do ‘perfect’ or ‘cute’ or ‘romantic’. It’s not because I don’t like it, it’s just that I’ve accepted my life is not a romantic drama, it’s more a romantic comedy, and I’ve learnt to laugh about it.

I probably laugh too much. I was chatting to one of my best friends yesterday before I went to church, dragging the guy I actually like (you can all be as shocked as I was) along for the first time. She said to me “Stop worrying, it’ll be fine, so far everything else has been perfect.” I looked at her, dead in the eye, with a very straight face, and said “That is EXACTLY why I’m worried”.

Perfect and me don’t go together.

So anyway, went to church, it could have gone much worse, I keep telling myself that… I also laughed out loud on a number of occasions because it was by far the most ‘out there’ service I’ve ever been to there. Sigh.

But here’s the REALLY weird part of the day… I came home and went to my room to find a dozen roses on my bed. We then went to the beach and swam and lay sunbathed, then finished off the evening with a lovely dinner eating some of my favourite foods.

Gosh darn it, it was so damn perfect it made me want to cry.

I wish I was one of these people who could stop and appreciate how lucky I am, and how incredible my life has been. But I’m not.

I’m the kind of person who has enough doubt and fear I’d never have to work another day in my life if I could translate it into money. I’ve had a life of many blessings but I’ve also had many hurts and many failures.

And I sadly let it control how I look at life now. I’m working on that. It’s just a slow progression from ‘fearful and doubtful’ to ‘certain and secure’.

People often seem a little taken back when I admit I’m genuinely afraid and certain everything will end terribly.

I’m not sure why that comes as a surprise. It’s very simple. It’s the same reason you don’t want to touch an electric fence, or why you don’t put your hand on a hot element, or why you always let a hot cup of tea sit before you take a drink: you know damn well it’s going to hurt. It’s going to hurt, so you don’t do it. And sometimes you forget and get distracted and you sip that hot cup of tea too soon or you grab the electric fence before turning it off…but it doesn’t change the outcome.

While I’m well and truly aware being loved and loving someone is not exactly the same, it’s the same principal behind why I’m afraid. If it hurts every time you do it, you’re going to stop wanting to do it.

But I’m starting to look at it another way. When I was teaching kids to horse ride they’d often fall off. It was sometimes a little bit funny, because it’s in that moment you know if they’re going to make it as a horse rider. If they can fall off, get back up, dust themselves off, and get back on…they’re going to be able to be a great horse rider. If they lie on the ground bawling their eyes out and not wanting to get back on, well they’re probably not going to go far. Because you can’t be afraid of the fall if you’re going to push yourself to heights humans probably shouldn’t go with a 500kg animal.

I’ve fallen off my horse so many times I’ve genuinely lost count, it would be well into the 100’s. I’ve spent hours at the physio, at the chiropractor, and I’ve had lesson after lesson after lesson. Yet I keep getting back on that horse.

Because I know a horse will do unexpected things; it will spook stationary objects, it will decide it doesn’t feel like jumping that jump for no particular reason, it will decide it wants to gallop around the paddock for hours before it lets you catch it, it will buck you off because it didn’t feel like working… you get the picture.

And time and time again I forgive it, I find ways to improve the situations, and I work on it until we’re enjoying it. I also sometimes give up and sell the damn thing because I just can’t be bothered with the crap anymore.

People aren’t much different. People do unexpected things. And sometimes you just have to accept it has nothing to do with you as a person, and find ways to fix the problem and work on it.

Unfortunately I can’t sell people, that’s illegal, so I have to just walk away when I’ve had enough and there isn’t anything else I can do.

It’s not about me. It’s not personal. It’s just about saying ‘ok, I know there are things I need to work on, and it’s time to find someone I work better with’. But just like I’ve found my one horse I love to pieces and am willing to put up with the little bits of crap because all the other times are incredible, I will eventually find my person I love to pieces and am willing to endure life with…good and bad. And if I don’t I’ll just collect horses and cats and dogs and have my cute little cottage on a cliff top all to myself.

Lately I’ve found a pretty awesome human. And I like him.

I also freaked out and shut down a little last night because everything was so damn perfect. But I’ll come right. Eventually I’ll be able to human normally around him. Or just in general. Being able to human effectively in general would be nice.

My brain is screaming at me a little like ‘dude! We were only just single and now you’ve gone and down this, like what the hell? I don’t even know what to do with all THIS’. And I’m just like ‘yeah, yeah I know, now here’s some inspirational quotes, deal with it’.

As usual I’m trying to cope using my ability to take the piss out of myself. I even dragged my tired butt out of bed at 6am to go to the gym to punish my body even more. But I have goals and I’m determined.

So I’m going for it. I’m still not used to someone I like seeing me all sweaty and looking as though I’m genuinely on deaths door.

I’m not one of these people who look ‘hot’ and ‘sexy’ and ‘babe’n’ while working out. I despise people who do and stare at them in the gym wondering if they’re possibly robots.

So that’s my life at the moment. It’s a bit wonderful, a bit scary, and there’s a lot to accomplish. But I have faith it’s going to work out just fine, and just how it’s meant to. I’m putting a focus on spending more time with my family and I’m making sure I get out of bed at least a few times a week at 6am to work out.

I’m prepared to work for what I want. And I’m not prepared to let anything, or anyone, stop me from getting there. I think this year will be one of personal development and realising life is more than your fears.

Bring it on!

(Someone also please get me coffee because I need that if I’m going to be all ‘yes I can do it!’…that takes motivation and without coffee… well… just get me the coffee please)

Happy-go-lucky

The count down to Canada has begun! It’s less than a week before I fly out of the country and I’m still yet to figure out what on earth I’m packing. Sickness has found me once again in the form of a cold and all sorts of average feelings. But I had it coming really, my body doesn’t love take aways, no sleep, and alcohol for over a week! Running around in the rain probably didn’t help either. Never the less I’m now taking the hint and sleeping as much as is humanly possible while still working and occasionally eating. Ugh, I must be getting old. I’m now adding ‘don’t drink vodka’ to my New Years resolution list. Lately I seem to swing between wanting to cuddle up in bed with a good book and my cat and wanting to go clubbing all night and never sleep. I’m some weird combination of grown up and someone trying to relive their teenage years.

When I began 2015 my only new years resolution was to be ‘unapologetically me’. At the time I wasn’t entirely sure what that looked like, all I knew is I was tired of trying to make people happy or impress them and either putting on or shutting down parts of who I was to achieve that. I’d actually forgotten about it when I made 2016’s resolutions, until the other night. I was sitting with one of my best friends when he turned to me after a moment of silence and said “I’ve never met anyone who is so good at being themselves as you are”. It’s funny because I rarely stop to think about what I come across to people as. I know from feedback on my blog that each person reads what I write differently, and I really enjoy that, but I haven’t often stopped to think about how my friends perceive me or my life for that matter.

Quite often I get so focused and just doing my thing I don’t get the chance to congratulate myself on how far I’ve come or pat myself on the back for things I’ve achieved.

I have indeed managed to become unapologetically me and I now know what that looks like: me being me without trying – the people who like who I am, stay and those who don’t, leave. I really like who I am as a result of it and while it’s meant losing a few major people in my life, I’ve made even better friends and become closer to the some of ones I already had.

Part of my being me plan was to live life large; start saying yes more and getting out of my comfort zone. After travelling like I did I thought comfort zones were a thing of the past and getting out of them was a piece of cake. I was wrong, like I usually am, and I’ve found being single one of the hardest things to get used to in terms of meeting guys and striking up conversation with people. I don’t think many people realise just how comforting it is to have that one ‘person’ there for them and how little you rely on other people when in a relationship. Suddenly now I’m single I rely on people like I never have before. I need my friends around me; I need people to laugh with, have nights out with, talk to about random things in my day, share exciting things with, all the little things I shared in a relationship I’ve found other people to share them with. But that, until now, was a very daunting thing. And it still is at times. My happiness is reliant on a lot of different people, I’m still feeling vulnerable, those people can and will move and change and carry on with their own lives just like I will with mine…and I have no say about that. It’s scary. The unknown is scary.

But it’s also exciting. I’m learning to just enjoy the now and the people I have right now. I never thought I’d care about people or want to help people the way I do now. I’ve found the more I go through and the more I see in life the more determined I am to get alongside other people; face life together.

I had another friend point out the other day that I “do so many cool exciting things all the time”. Again, I’d never stopped to think about it. But I suppose when I add up the travelling, the hobbies, the nights out, I am in fact living life large. I’m enjoying every moment of it and I’m grabbing it by the horns. Instead of thinking about it, I’m just doing it. And I think that’s the best way to approach it.

I’ve become a happy-go-lucky people person and that was never something I expected. I looked at people who loved life and frolicked in genuine happiness with a bunch of amazing friends as foreign objects. I honestly had no idea how people did that. Yet just like that, I’m one of those people. When I say just like that I don’t really mean I closed my eyes one night and woke a up different person. I think it’s more a case of the deeper the sadness and hurt you face and the more you see of the world, the more you make the most of the good times and the faster you recover in the bad. It’s not that you ever really stop being sad about the really sad things, you just carry them around in a different way. I’m doing a terrible job of explaining this, but hopefully you get the jist.

So I’m going to stop there before I ramble on into oblivion. Bring on another 12 hour sleep night, healthy food, staying out of the rain, and having cuddles with my cat.

#Icanbeagrownupsometimes

This is life

The thing I have come to realise about life, is you can’t chose which moments impact you the most.

There are things in life you think you’ll suffer from forever, then there are others you desperately want to move on from and just can’t. Too many people run, and hide, and refuse to admit just what’s really going on. Forgiveness has always been something I’ve found quite easy. Just move on, it’s that simple.

Nope. I’ve found it’s not quite so.

As I’ve said several times on here, I’ve been catching up with an ex. Sometimes a story doesn’t have an ending yet for a very good reason. There’s no spark so this is not coming from a place of those sort of feelings, but there is a lot of anger on my part.

I very rarely let my guard down for anyone, but he was part of my life in a particularly hard time, so I needed someone. Of course, as all great stories end, there was plenty of cheating. And because I’m like a dog with a bone I refused to stop asking the right questions until I understood just the extent of it all.

The problem is when I finally did, I couldn’t decide whether to laugh, or throw my soda water at him. Both probably would have been perfect…

I expected it to be easy to move on, but I realised last night, when I was angry at the world, and angry at myself for getting to a point where I struggle to trust anyone, that I wasn’t ‘over it’ and I wasn’t ready to forgive and forget.

I will be eventually, and it’s going to take a lot of strength to do that.

But words don’t describe the kind of hurt I felt over the whole situation.

I’m a grown up now (not by choice) so I’m going to have to deal with that hurt and move on in the best way I know how; lots of exercise until I’m too exhausted to be angry any more.

But there are certain things in life that drag up emotions we all like to avoid. Last year I lost my grandfather, the day after my 21st birthday. I also moved house and took on a greater work load at work during the same month. It was two days after he died I moved house, and the day before his funeral.

I’m not sure I’ve ever been so exhausted in my life.

But it was the one time I desperately needed someone to lean on. Anyone would have been okay. There is this awful sinking feeling when you look up, begging for help, and there is simply no one there to pull you back up.

I’m still struggling with that hurt. This ‘I am alone in this and I’m going to have to find a way out’ feeling. It’s perhaps one of the most daunting places to be in. And it’s going to take me a long time to forgive those closest to me for not being there, and expecting me to be ok with that.

So the reason for this long winded emotionally charged blog, is because I’m not holding back this year. I’m tired of watching what I say or what I share, hurt comes in many forms, and hiding doesn’t prevent you from it.

If there is a friend you haven’t seen for a while or someone who might be having a hard time, just take a few moments from your day and help them out.

You’d be surprised just how far a little love can go.

It’s the next chapter

FOR THE BLOG

So last night, after I wrestled the bacon bone soup out of the freezer and the chicken drumsticks escaped and attacked my foot, I struggled to sleep.

The bacon bone soup was good, exactly what you need when you’re fighting the flu and unable to sleep.

I was thinking to myself ‘seriously dude, just close your eyes and sleep!’

It’s not my brain’s fault. Life has been what I would call a white water adventure as of late.

My grandfather is dying, I’m selling my horse – evidently that means no more horse riding for a while, my other horse is having a foal and I am seriously out of my depth, I’m moving house, I’ve been revisiting old wounds with an ex, and work is full on – but good.

So really, my brain doesn’t really have much of a shot at being ok lately.

To tell you the truth, I think it’s doing pretty damn well.

Stories for work this week have been some of the best since I started working, I have loved the research and the interviews. But one in particular about family violence has stirred up a few past hurts (NOT with my own family!). The problem with me, is I don’t really move on from things until I talk about it. I need to talk to figure it out. The other person doesn’t even have to say much, they just need to understand.

The problem with this particular time in my life, is there is only one person who actually can understand it. So it’s back to the past I go.

There is this whole folder in my brain reserved for ‘2010, when things fell apart in a rather impressive way’.

I got it together thank goodness.

But it doesn’t make it all go away. It just makes you pretend it’s not there.

That’s not healthy.

So I’m being brave and actually drawing lines and treading carefully on very broken glass. But with the mix of everything that’s going on at the moment, I choose to slip into a world of good drama TV shows.

This is definitely the start of another chapter for me.

But I have absolutely no idea where I am going. I have an idea of what I want and what will be there, but it’s making the sentences that scares the living daylights out of me. Because it is the first time in my life I’m not ignoring anything. I’m not trying to ‘escape’. I am facing my fears and I am doing what I know is best for not just me, but the people around me.

So, here is to the next step.

Sore foot from chicken fights, green juice because I hate chewing my greens, cups of tea to sooth the hurts, and good TV shows to take my mind off it all when I just need a break.

It might not seem like a lot from the outside, but it’s a huge amount to me. And I’m ok with saying that. Everyone fights their own battles in their own time, and this is my time and my battle.

But I’m going to win.

Because it’s my life, and I want better than what I’ve been giving myself.

Goodbye to the week that’s been

Ok week. We’re done. I am literally digging my way through paper to get to my desk. My nose hurts from sneezing, I am well over tired because my poor brain has had far too much going on; socially and with work. I have spilt one cup of tea, burnt my tongue on two, pissed off an inspector (high ranked policeman), slept through both alarms this morning, and I desperately need to give my hair, nails, legs, face, and so on some attention before I resemble that of a yeti.

So it’s really not that bad.

Compared to others in the office, my day was a good one.

To be honest, I can’t even really sum up this week other than: I think we all need a wine.

On crappy days / weeks that feel like they’re slowly suffocating you, I find the only thing I can do at the end of them is be thankful I’m still alive, and operating. Enjoy the company of good people, or just the cat. Sometimes, it’s not even the cat, just the horse. Grab a glass and bottle of wine, and do something completely and utterly different and unrelated to daily life.

Or even something I just love doing, like sitting in my bed with a hottie bottle and food.

No place like bed.

All the best for your weekends! 

Saving grace

Today, and yesterday, were the kind of days where I have to remind myself to breathe. One, because I need oxygen, two, because I need to relax. Along with a splitting headache and aching stomach, the clear indicator for stress was standing in the kitchen writing stories in my head. 

Stop it brain. Time to shut off. 

But I’ve done enough complaining lately. I actually enjoy working 8.30am to 7pm some days, in a weird way it means I can consume myself in work enough I can forget about all the other things I should be doing. 

Like making friends. Doing sport. Keeping fit. That sort of stuff. 

I realised though, these last few days, just how lucky I am. Today I have been trying really hard to be positive, so here is a list of things I am grateful for:

1) The guy who flashed his lights to warn me of a speed camera so I didn’t end up with another ticket. 

2) The fact it stopped raining when I went to feed my horse.

3) Fantastic people I have met during my interviews lately, these are amazing reminders of why I love my job.

4) Friends who bring me food. Like, there are no words for people like this. I love them more than I can explain. There is simply nothing better than a friend who offers to bring you food when you’ve had a really shitty day and forgot there was this thing called eating which you need to do.

5) Good music, the amount I have found lately has kept me afloat.

6) People to dream with. Even if it is something simple and far off, just having someone to discuss the future and the excitement of it makes me smile. 

7) Having a work car… because I am rather poor.

8) Managing to not crash it even though with this awful weather lately there have been several very close calls. 

9) Having a horse, because sometimes, you just need horse cuddles to make the world seem like a nice happy place.

10) A bed, a roof, a warm house, food, and a job. I don’t think I ever stop and appreciate these things enough. I am so lucky to live in a house, let alone the incredible house I live in, with good people, in a safe country.

So I have a life plan. I have a headache. I didn’t get a speeding ticket. I have managed to actually achieve nearly everything I need to by 10am tomorrow. I have fantastic friends. And my hottie bottle and cup of tea are perhaps some of the more reassuring things after a long day. 

Anyway, what I actually came on here to say was that I have become a far more vulnerable person. While that was very scary at first, it feels good to rely a little more on others and a little less on myself. Bad days are still unpleasant, but when you’re not shouldering the whole world, you feel much more equipped to cope. 

People rock. Good people, are really quite incredible. 

So folks, remember to ask for help when you can’t do it on your own anymore, and remember when to say no when you can’t take it anymore.

But don’t forget to say yes and to lend a hand when you can, because everyone has their turn at feeling like their my paddock in the rain with a horse running up and down it. 

 

Over it

Do you ever have those phases where people just start acting weird, and you don’t quite know if you’re losing the plot completely, or they are? Well, I’m having one of those I believe. I want to hibernate. Bears have it sussed. It gets cold, they eat, then they sleep for a long time. Why can’t humans do that? 

It is Monday. I am freezing my butt off. My horse is set about destroying his cover and I don’t have money to replace it. It’s cold, did I mention that? And I am at that point where I desperately need a good cup of something warm and delicious, and a good girl friend to bitch to. 

I want a dating site for friends, all my good ones seem to be living far away… or visiting nice places far away. 

I think the problem with my intolerance for strange or fake or demanding or just plain rude people has stemmed from journalism. I constantly ask people things, some things are quite personal, on first meeting them. It’s like that constant small talk and act we put on for others… all the time. Which is good, we need that, but when it comes to friends, sometimes you just need people you can talk to while in your underwear, or in your oldest comfiest clothes, with no make up, bitching till your heart desires, with no need to feel ‘chirpy’ or ‘together’ or ‘inspired’. 

All in all I think I need a holiday. And a hug. I really need a hug. And real. I really need real people. 

Anyway… that’s is enough of my emotional, cold, over Monday, whinge. 

Time to get tough. Out with the people who I’m over. Dealing with the people I don’t understand. Appreciating the people who make my days. And time to figure out how I’m going to get some much needed R&R in a warm place. But for now I think I’m just going to sleep. 

Sleep fixes everything.