Let’s talk about the hard stuff

It’s been a tough week. I’m not entirely sure what went wrong, the wheels just started to wobble early on and it just seemed to be a steady downhill ride and they fell off. Considering I think I coped pretty well. I got back up and carried on putting out fire after fire at work, attempting to justify myself without getting on the defensive. I haven’t had a chance to see my pony, so that’s probably added to my lack of energy. I’m fighting a chest thing. I don’t know what it is, all I know is I can’t run…and it’s driving me nuts not being able to train properly. I received less than ideal news about my thyroid from my recent scan.

There have been some great positives to this week with volunteer work opportunities and a teaching opportunity with a pony club. So I’m excited and clinging dearly onto those little highs.

Last week I wrote a blog, which I then deleted from Facebook. It covered a pretty sensitive topic: suicide. I decided I wasn’t in the right mind frame really to talk about it and I was pretty concerned about how people close to me might read it and take it in a way I didn’t mean.

But I’m back. And since suicide has been in the news almost every single day since I deleted it, I decided to buck up and get back on here and talk. That’s what I started this blog for right?

From the beginning: I’ve struggled with depression since I was young. I was probably about 14 when I first realised I wasn’t coping like most people cope and I described the feeling to a close friend as ‘the dark bubble’. It was only way I could describe it at the time. I’m not even sure if the idea of depression crossed my mind then. But I did know something wasn’t right.

Depression and a bunch of other stuff that tends to go hand in hand with it runs in my family. I’ve never been diagnosed by a doctor. I think I’ve probably only ever actually identified it openly with words as depression twice in my life, once with my friend with whom I called it ‘the dark bubble’ and once in casual conversation with my mother. Otherwise, it can just sit in the back of my mind.

Why I’ve been subject to a fairly shitty thing could be down to a number of reasons: over active thyroid (I have a toxic thyroid nodule) issues almost always go hand in hand with mental health and depression, it’s in my family, or I have a personality which is partial to it.

Pick a reason.

To be honest it actually doesn’t matter for what I want to talk about.

Suicidal thoughts.

That word is one that’s not particularly easy to type and I’ve only ever once said it in conversation about myself…and that was last week to my partner.

I post regularly on a FB pg called YouthNet and every article just about has something to do with people needing to open up and talk about these issues, “People need to talk about mental health issues and suicide; it needs to be something we are not afraid to deal with.” That’s what most of the articles say. And I get right in there and say “YES!”

Yet I never speak about it personally.

Why? Because I’m afraid. What if my family starts to worry about me? I’ve survived 100 per cent of my days so far, I know I will be fine. What if a future employer comes across this and thinks I won’t be able to work properly? What if something thinks I have a ‘mental health disorder’ and they don’t want me to be part of their organisation? What if Sam’s friends and family don’t like me anymore? What if people think there is something wrong with me?

And that right there, is exactly the reason we have a massive issue with suicide and depression in our country.

Isolation and fear mean people do not want to talk about it. Not when it’s to do with them.

When I was 14 I remember very clearly plotting out all the different ways to die, narrowing them down into my top two. And whenever I hear someone has died that way it hits a nerve…every single time. Back then it gave me a sense of control over myself and my life. I felt like if I had the option to escape, then it was always my choice to continue. And that took a massive weight off my shoulders.

I often would stop eating. Never enough to be of a major concern and it had absolutely nothing to do with my weight. I probably didn’t realise what I was doing until this year when shit hit the fan when I came back from overseas and I found myself skipping meal after meal.

I saw it this way: I couldn’t control how I felt, but I could sure as hell control a) whether I had to live through it and b) I could punish my body by with holding food. I punished it because it wouldn’t work like other peoples. It was anxious, it was too skinny, it was struggling with things most people found easy.

One day mum knew someone who committed suicide. She told me about it. I saw the pain on her face, the sadness, the hurt, the ‘why?!’

I think it was probably the reason I understood death was in fact final. It was not just an escape, it was over for good. And while it’s easy to say ‘well, yeah? Duh.’ It’s actually a concept that’s hard to grasp when you’ve never seen the effects of death or the reality of it. That is why we need to talk to our children about it.

By about 15 I started to feel ok and by 16 I can’t remember any suicidal thoughts. I never said anything when I was younger and I’m not entirely sure why. I think because, while I knew most people don’t think that way, I was really fine. I didn’t want to die. At the end of the day it was about control.

Life has had many, many up and downs since then but while I’ve suffered moments of depression, I haven’t had any overwhelming thoughts about death. So I never really worried about it. It became a moment in time that could easily be forgotten. I was young, hormones were changing.

I’ve put a lot of it down to things like my thyroid, my diet etc. And it was the reason for a lot of the issues. But it’s not the reason for all of it. I don’t know the reason.

So it took me by surprise when last week, out of nowhere, in the midst of life feeling pretty darn good, I found myself back in those moments when I was 14. “What’s the best way out?”

And it was then that I had to actually accept this is something bigger than me. People don’t just ‘get over it’ and moments of depression, of wanting out, strike out of nowhere and there is very little one can do about it.

Someone came up to me on Sunday and asked, “Are you ok? You seem a little off.”

I replied with “Yeah, I’m fine.” I mean, I don’t really know how to just sort of lay “Oh yeah, nah, I’m struggling with suicidal thoughts out of nowhere that I can’t explain and I’m really fine, but also feeling like complete shit.”

Laying that on someone makes it real.

No I don’t want out. I love my life. I love being alive. I love the people I am with and my friends, my family are some of the best around.

But that doesn’t stop those thoughts creeping in.

And that is my message. You have absolutely no idea what is going on in someone’s life. There have been moments in mine where it really was all turning to shit and I was feeling like  I was living in some joke that went wrong, yet it looks fine. It looks good.

Doesn’t mean it is.

And just because someone may have an amazing life with what seems to be no reason to be upset. They can be struggling. They can be fighting their biggest internal battle and you do not know that.

Some of my friends have had no idea the extent of my thoughts last week. But they are the reason I’m feeling resilient and pretty good this week, even though it’s been a crappy one. I know they’re there for me, they want to support me, they want to make sure I’m ok without having to make me feel like I’m ‘different’ or ‘weak’. I’m not different and I’m far from weak. This is not a struggle only I struggle with and I think the news this past week has made that pretty clear to New Zealand.

Let’s stop making people feel like they need to ‘toughen up’. Let’s stop ignoring teenagers when they aren’t coping and telling them ‘you’re only young, what do you have to worry about?’

We need to stop treating people like they’re less of a person because they struggle with something they cannot control.

Knowing people care, a smile in a coffee shop, a hug from an acquaintance at church, a wine with the girls. I didn’t want to get out of bed so Sam brought me breakfast in bed. And then gave me no choice to get up. Having my friend and her husband send me some absolutely amazing encouragement…that’s what gets me motivated in those moments. No one needed to take on my burden – that doesn’t help anyone, but just knowing someone had taken a moment of their time to care about me, that’s what I needed.

For me, when I’m struggling often I seem really bubbly, I seem happy. But there a moments I’ll stare off into nowhere. I’m not sure why that is. It’s just me. When I’m not struggling, I can have a bad day and I’ll look sad, I’ll feel sad. But that’s sadness.

Moments of depression feel as if you are in sinking sand, it’s the sick feeling in the pit of your stomach, it’s the dread of the day, it’s the not seeing a way out from the moment of darkness you’re in.

One of the most powerful quotes I have read came from a site called The Broken Borderline (follow her on FB).

If the photo hasn’t loaded on your screen it says this: “The so-called ‘psychotically depressed’ person who tries to kill herself doesn’t do so out of quote ‘hopelessness’ or any other abstract conviction that life’s assets and debits do not square. And surely not because death seems suddenly appealing. The person in whom its invisible agony reaches a certain unendurable level will kill herself the same way a trapped person will eventually jump from a window of a burning high-rise. Make no mistake about people who leap from burning windows. Their terror of falling from a great height is still just as great as it would be for you or me standing speculatively at the same window just checking out the view; i.e the fear of falling remains a constant. The variable here is the other terror, the fire’s flames: when the flames get close enough, falling to death becomes the slightly less terrible of two terrors. It’s not desiring the fall; it’s terror of the flames. And yet nobody down on the sidewalk, looking up and yelling ‘don’t and ‘hang on’ can really understand the jump. Not really. You’d have to be personally been trapped and felt flames to really understand a terror way beyond falling.”

For me personally, those flames have never been close enough for me to do anything other than weigh up the options. And that has been my mission for a long time; make sure those flames never do get close enough.

I have surrounded myself with amazing, caring people who complement me. I have quit things in life that drag me down and make me feel like I’m worthless. I have taken on volunteer projects and have found ways to make sure every single day I know, without a doubt, that I am valued, I am loved, I am wanted, and I belong.

Most importantly, I belong.

And that is why I came back from my travels with an absolute certain drive that I wanted to be in a position to help. To make sure people do not EVER feel like they do not belong in their own lives. That they are WANTED, LOVED, VALUED. And most importantly, that there are people who do GET what it feels like to feel the flames and want desperately to escape the terrible thoughts that surround your mind. The darkness that wraps itself around you and makes its home in your tears, anger and frustration.

It does get better. I can promise that. But I will admit it is still at times a struggle, but every single moment I wake up in the morning and I am glad to be here. That is a victory. And I know that. The struggle is worth it.

I’m studying psychology because I want to fix it. I started, to be honest, because I actually wanted to understand how to fix myself. But now I feel like it’s bigger than me. And because of that I try to find at least one thing in my day that went either well, or that I am thankful for. It can even be the lady at the supermarket who helped me with a smile.

I cling onto just about anything good. Because I do understand what it’s like not to feel anything good. And because of that, I really do appreciate what good feels like.

So to end I just want to say be kind, be loving, be the kind of person you’d want to meet on a bad day. Buy someone a drink or a coffee, make the time to send a text to someone on your mind. Don’t ever stop caring about other humans; create an environment around you where people can be open. People should not be afraid to be open in whatever forum they want to be.

Just writing a post like this is a massive step for me. Talking, even with a very guarded mindset to my partner about it was also massive.

But as everything in my life…it’s one step at a time. One step toward loving it, toward coping with it, toward just being a bloody good person.

Be a community. Love as a community. Because you have no idea who may very well need you.

You are valued, you are amazing, you are one of a kind, and please stay around because the world needs people like you.

If you know someone struggling, what this video from the other night on TVNZ. It really is worth a watch for everyone…

https://www.tvnz.co.nz/ondemand/the-hard-stuff-with-nigel-latta/09-08-2016/series-2-episode-8

Also, have a scroll through these pretty real and wonderful quotes from The Broken Borderline pg.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Much love x

 

Advertisements

Hot tea and time for the coats!

Winter is on its way. One more week and it’s here! As it gets colder I’m not quite sure how I feel about that. I am enjoying hot water bottles, cups of tea in bed, and listening to the rain. But when I get back into riding in the mornings I know I’m going to regret my enthusiasm for winter.

Mondayitis has set in and in between motivational songs I find myself wondering where we’re going from here. You know when things come to a bit of a standstill and it’s hard to get moving again? Yeah, I’m there.

It looks like I may be off to Turkey, Egypt, and Greece this time next year. Fingers crossed I can make it happen!

Lately I’ve been pretty tired, mainly from a lack of sleep, my immune system has been remarkably resilient to the cold that has been attacking nearly every person I have seen lately.

I have finally managed to conquer an awful case of writers block and can now string a sentence together rather than short statements.

Due to my amount of socializing last week, I have become allergic to people. Ok, that’s a bit of an over dramatization, but you know when you get to the point and it’s just like ‘I just can’t deal with your *$&%’….I’m there.

I am very thankful for a great family, and the good friends I do have.

Someone I met recently told me I worked too much. I laughed… and continued to laugh. I work hard, but not too much. I work a fulltime position and I love my job, so why would I not give it my all? Some day’s my all is not very much, other days it means I miss out on drunken nights. But I’m quite happy about that.

I love the opportunities I’ve had lately to help people, and have fun in my job. I mean, why would you want to do anything else if you’re in a good place?

Another person told me I should get out of my routine.

I laughed.

They say laughter is good for the soul… I must have a pretty healthy soul by now.

I love my friends, and I like advice, but I am amused by the ‘advice’ lately.

No, I’m not quitting my job because I can’t get drunk on a week night. Yes, I love my boyfriend, no I don’t want to travel right now, yes I will travel eventually. And yes, I do know what is best for me.

So as I am losing feeling in my fingers because it is so cold, even in the office, I’d better stop there. That and the day has galloped past me at a great rate and it is now 2.30pm and I have accomplished very little.

Peace out and keep warm! 

The idea of perfect

http://convergemagazine.com/engaged-8944/

The above blog has inspired me to get the thoughts I have been trying to put into words onto a page. I am a perfectionist. No, the clothes on my floor 60% (…or 80%) of the time would not make it look this way. But people don’t see my room. I am a perfectionist in the way that I like everything to look perfect, even if it is not.

I had absolutely no idea I did this until my instructor pointed it out in my riding. She said something along the lines of “stop don’t just keep him there to look good, you have to be ok with messing it up to actually get it where you want it to be”. That is what I took from what she said anyway. People should really get dressage lessons, even if they don’t horse ride, dressage instructors say some incredibly deep and helpful daily life things.

But anyway, the point I am making: I keep things tightly controlled, I hold on and I do not think to question because I do not want it to look anything but ‘pretty’. It looks good, so it is good. That was my mentality. If people think it looks perfect, it is. 

Wrong. 

And I called myself out on it.

Shortly after I realised that that was the exact problem I was having with my relationship. There were so many things I did not question or think to change, even though they bothered me, because it looked perfect, and I had it together in other peoples eyes. I have been going about pulling it apart layer by layer to find the problems, to fix them, to actually have a good relationship. 

Like the above blog, it is easy to forget about the important things, rather than just good it looks in a picture. It is not about the look, it is not about what people think, it is about how it is. That is evidence enough in itself. If I can win events on my horse, if I am happy riding him, and I can sell him to a great home, that is success, not if he looks pretty every time I ride. It is about if what I am doing each ride is amounting to something and helping me achieve the end goal. 

Same in a relationship, is what I am doing for others, or for me? Do I care about getting engaged because there are so many people on Facebook with their freaking perfect rings? Yep. Really, I am not at that stage. I’m happy for them that they are, and I can’t wait till when I am. 

Life is not a competition to look the best. Life is about your life, how you feel, what you accomplish. 

Am I doing it for the Facebook pictures, or am I doing it for my life?

 

Up lift

So, because I am in a bit of a chirpy mood (my neck being out is causing strange things to happen with my brain), I thought I’d post a few cool little quotes, tips and thing-a-ma-gigs (meant to be said fast in your head) that I have learnt lately on here to give you all a bit of my chirp!

 

Green Tea:

If you want a fresh-faced look in the morning, add a few green tea leaves to your facewash, I use a cut open tea bag because it’s cheep. It feels awesome and gives you a nice glow.

Liver Detox:

I am currently trying a cool new (expensive) tea. Having had very temperamental skin as of late, I decided it was time to get rid of all the baddies. No alcohol for the next month, lots of fresh dark leafy greens, pea protein smoothies with freaking everything in them, and this tea stuff that has fennel, milk thistle, globe artichoke, peppermint, calendula, and dandelion root. 

 

“We hardly ever realize that we can cut anything out of our lives, anytime, in the blink of an eye.” ~Carlos Castaneda

 

Cucumbers: 

There are so many uses for them I never knew of! (hopefully you can all view this link: https://www.facebook.com/permalink.php?story_fbid=660531267351863&id=642763002462023&substory_index=0) 

In short though, this is a few uses:

1. Fat busting: Do you ever wonder why women put cucumbers on their eyes to relieve puffiness? The photochemical in cucumbers makes the collagen in your skin tighten, thus the lack of puffiness. Did you know that you can rub a cucumber on a problematic spot of cellulite anywhere on your body to lessen the visibility of it? Did you also know that it has the same effect on wrinkles? Wow, it makes purchasing those fifty dollar creams seem a little silly, doesn’t it? You can also rub a little bit under your kiddo’s eyes after a long bout of crying to avoid that puffy ‘I cried for an hour straight’ look.

2. Defogger: Do you get annoyed when you get out of the shower and you have to fight the fog on the mirror? Who has time for that when the kids will be awake at any moment? Try rubbing a slice of cucumber on the mirror before you hop in and not only will you get a fog-free mirror, but you’ll have a nice smell that will boost your mood.

3. Headaches: If you suffer from headaches from chasing your babies all day (or pets or your husband), or had a little too much wine with dinner and want to avoid a hangover, eat half of a cucumber before bed. Cucumbers are high in B vitamins, sugar, and electrolytes, and they replenish the nutrients missing in your body to help you avoid a hang over or to beat that headache that’s been threatening to take over.

10. Frugal facial: Slice up a cucumber and boil it in a pot of water. The chemicals inside of the cucumber will mix with the steam. Remove the pot from heat and lean over it, letting the steam hit you. Your skin will be more radiant and healthy, and you will feel relaxed and rejuvenated.

 

“You can’t truthfully explain your smallest action without fully revealing your character.”

 

Pea Protein:

(Woohoo! No dairy in it!) 

My intention when I started eating this stuff was not to build muscle, but when my abs started to appear from their usually soft outer shell, I became quickly disappointed bikini season is over. Never the less, I realised this was a pretty good sign it is giving my body the boost it needs! 
This stuff can be expensive, but shop around and you’ll find cheaper versions. Mine cost $30 for a big bag. I would seriously recommend to anyone. If you’re feeling like you’re running out of energy, want to build a bit of muscle, just need that ‘push’ to mange the day, then this is for you. It tastes pretty bad, so you’ve got to up the berries if adding to a smoothie, but once you get the balance right it is terrific! Should be available in most health stores. 

Friends: 

These are quite a key ingredient in one’s life. Even if you don’t see them often, quality talking time is the best remedy for de-stressing. Just being honest with someone, and being completely yourself is always a nice relaxer! 

Get that butt out of bed:

I mean it. I am a late night person, but I decided that this wasn’t going to work for my life any more. So I did a switcheroo. I now get up at 5.45am, just before the sun does. I have enough time to ride my horse, make my lunch, whip up a smoothie, have a shower, make my bed (not really, but close enough), do my make-up, get dressed (key part to most days), and whatever other little chore eg. hanging out the washing, before leaving for work at 7.40am. 

After I have convinced my body that it is in fact a reasonable time to get out of my beds snugly hold, I am able to get much more done than if I waited till after work. My brain hasn’t used up it’s power, if I’ve had a bad day it doesn’t affect my horse riding, and I don’t leave the house feeling stressed. 

It does mean earlier nights :/ so that means less days to go out with friends. But I have designated one morning where I get to ‘sleep in’ till 6.30am, meaning I don’t have to go to sleep until 10.30pm. 

 

“Life’s problems wouldn’t be called hurdles if there wasn’t a way to get over them.” ~Author Unknown

 

“The way you treat yourself sets the standard for others.” ~Sonya Friedman

 

“Worry gives a small thing a big shadow.” ~Swedish Proverb

 

So there you have it. 

I have decided since talking to the endocrinologist about my thyroid, that it was time to cut out the crap. No more excuses and piss poor efforts at self control. If I want to be happy, healthy, and working at my full capacity, and expect great things constantly from my body, it was about time I got real. I can’t expect it to function if I don’t program it properly! So, bye bye bad stuff!

Mountain of goals

I want to be many things. I figured I’d start with journalism, it seemed like a good place. My bucket list is a mile long, I want to be a rally car driver, horse breeder, sky dive instructor, be a councillor (those people who make decision for the city), a psychologist, a columnist, author, mother, farmer, riding instructor… I could keep going but I think that should do for now. There are all those quotes about getting on and just doing things, seizing the day and what not. If I actually listened and tried to do everything I want to do, right now, it wouldn’t end well. It is impossible to do everything right now. But yes, I can start. So, I did. I became a journalist, which means I get to have a column, where I do cool things, like drive a rally car, and learn about things a councillor does, at times you have to be a psychologist, I have money for a horse, so I’m breeding her, I’m learning more from my new horse, which means one day I’ll make a good instructor. 

Sometimes, you just have to start somewhere. 

The only thing with go after your goals, which in my case means enough for at least two life times, is you have to be prepared to work, and work really hard. 

And it is ok to seriously want to rip your hair out and stop. Cry, and sleep. Well, at least I keep telling myself that it is! I feel on top of the world, while also feeling like I got there by falling off a cliff. It doesn’t always feel ‘fun’ or ‘great’ or even good while you are clambering for the top. There are moments of great achievements, but most of the time it is a journey of hard work and you don’t even realise just how far you’ve come, because there is always, always another mile stone to get to. 

It’s worth it in the end I’ve been told… but to be honest, I think the only way I’ll be reaching ‘the end’ of my goals is when I am buried 6 ft under. And somehow… I don’t think that’s going to feel too good at all.

So, it’s time to buckle up and just enjoy the ride there. 

The ‘it’ girl

Schmoozing is hard. Really hard. The kind of difficult that makes me squirm, anxiously wrap my fingers in my hair and hold on for dear life. Short, quick, broken breaths – the kind the swiss ball woman on the DVD in my  laptop would disapprove of. I like to write. Love to write. I enjoy meeting people. But I suck at conversation. In interviews it is completely different, I have control, it is my platform. My time to shine. Schmoozing, I am out of control, nervous, worried that I will not be what that person wants in a person. That I will not be a satisfactory human being. It terrifies me. If I meet someone, just randomly, I like that, I can control the conversation or at least sway it. I don’t need them to like me. Future employers, the people who’s jobs I want. Well, those people I need to like me.

Unfortunately not being the popular girl or even being in the ‘popular’ group at school did not stand me in good steed for faking it till I make it. I really am what you see is what you get. Most of the time. I struggle to fake it. There was a short period of time in my first year studying I thought I had mastered it. Apparently I hadn’t. I am just an awkward person. Not insecure, but desperate. I need a future I can see and it is driving me nutty that I have no idea what’s next. No clue. Nothing. Nada. 

I did meet famous people today, New Zealand famous. I am extremely excited by this and though it may not seem like it today was wonderful. I truly enjoyed learning, listing and the… well… interesting company. I felt like I was slowly getting there on my train to being me, successfully being me.

This is an accomplishment of it’s own. Meeting people I imagine with light shinning from behind them as they descend down a golden stairwell, that was just a bonus.  

This is how I’ve grown up

Thinking about seeing past guy is a little scary I must say. Mainly because I struggle to remember what I was like back then. I know I was shy, very, very shy. Quiet, definitely quiet. Didn’t say much to anyone other than the people I knew – though I did stand up for myself when people picked on me. Normally I wasn’t quick enough to have anything intelligent to say. Looks wise I suppose I’ve changed a bit – who doesn’t in four years? But nothing shockingly different. I haven’t really grown, my hair is still roughly the same colour just a bit longer and my face lost a bit of it’s baby look.

19 is still pretty young. Nearing 20 it’s strange to think this is what I always thought about when I was 16 – who I would be when I was all grown up. Maturity, apparently that is what makes me seem older. I don’t feel very mature most of the time, but then in other moments I surprise myself. 

I am now, what I always wanted to be four years ago. I got here. That’s the problem, where to now? 

Smiley faces were certainly a chronic infestation in all of my texts, I definitely know that. My sister now complains I don’t use them enough. I still do the …. thing when I have nothing to say, I blame Daniel for that habit, never really managed to shake that. Really, I have picked up small things that I have liked from each person I have met and carried them with me. Sort of a collection of things from the people I want to be like. Whatever the trait was that I wanted, I found a way to make it happen. Weird I guess. 

When you think back, who did you want to be when you got to here? Did you get there? 

It’s odd when you stop to think about it. Some of it makes me sad. There were so many pure and wonderfully innocent things about my personality I loved then. I hated it at the time, but don’t we always when we can’t look from the outside? The world certainly does roughen and torment over the years and the sooner you try to jump into it, the faster you learn to stand on your feet and to shield your eyes and your heart. It is relentless and it is very unforgiving. 

Four years is a very short amount of time in the scheme of things, but when you realize how much changes in that time, it seems like eternity. 

Reality is, I was always this person, I just had no idea.

Lonely habits

I am a creature of habit. Unfortunately, or perhaps not so unfortunately, I pick up certain habits from people I talk to a lot, or spend time with. Normally they are the thing’s a I either hate or notice because they annoy me. Then, just like that, I take them on. It drives me nutty.

According to my mother I have charisma, oh course because mum has to say nice things to me I try not to be overly happy about this compliment. But I like to think I do either way. I don’t know if the habits that make me, me are learnt or if they are in fact me. One thing is for certain I have not changed much since I was a small kid. I’ve just become a bigger and much more vibrant version of it.

It makes me wonder though, how many things we never notice about ourselves? Other than the annoying things we don’t want to notice, I mean the good things that we simply have no understanding of. The things that make other people smile and take their breath away. I have always wanted to spend a day in someone else’s shoes, just figuring out what makes me tick. I don’t even know what makes me tick. Perhaps that is the magic though.

You meet someone and their magic works with yours, like these amazing electric sparks going off around you and you just have no idea. Those ‘I totally get what you mean!’ moments when you suddenly realize you’re actually not alone in all your madness. 

This just really sweeps me off my feet in amazement. How complex we are as human beings. 

Alone time does this to me, thinking. I like it though, when I’m happy thinking. I have narrowed down my urge to bake and decided I will attempt doughnuts tomorrow. I have also decided to start running in the morning. That probably wont happen, like cutting my hair short, but hey, the thought counts right? 

P.s I have forgiven my new hair dresser, I think I like the way it is now. It curls!

The good cookie moments

It is hard to imagine life anywhere but Hamilton. It is nearly impossible to picture making new friends, good friends, living alone, affording everything on my paycheck and working every day 9 – 5. Of course after spending 17 years in Tauranga I could not imagine life away from the busy beach town. The fast realization of how fast life has been changing and how well I have been adjusting is quite terrifying I think. In 4 months I will probably move. I will leave my friends and familiar streets and go adventuring.

I’m not quite sure how to feel about that. Most of my friends are not in Hamilton, I have very few close ones and certainly not like I had at school. I have moved house 4 times in three years so I don’t really have anywhere I call ‘home’ and I am no longer competing my horse so it doesn’t really matter where I keep her anymore. 

Of course there are things I will miss. Like the people where I graze my horse, after a while when things change so much something like that becomes a stability, you rely on going there every day at the same time and seeing roughly the same people.

To change that is a big thing. At the same time, my horse is loving her relaxed and ‘retired’ life of hacking, the occasional gallop and a bit of jumping mixed with lots of food and doing nothing but ‘hang with the other ponies’. It is really horse bliss when you think about it. So moving her to somewhere new is probably something she needs to spice things up. 

You see it’s actually more perception and my total paralyzing fear of the unknown rather than the actual fact of the matter. I will be hopefully moving somewhere I will have more friends or be closer to them or have the opportunity to make a bunch of new ones who fit the person I have grown into. I will be doing something I love doing and I will no longer having to study. I might even get to have a house of my own to call home. Decorate it my way and make it smell like my home. That actually sounds much better than Hamilton. 

So after nearly three weeks of a glimpse of the future, I will go back to study and whinge all about that. Hey, that’s ok. Moments in life are just like warm cookies.

Delicious and wonderful but if you have too many good ones, you’ll never want to stop eating them and that’s bad for you. And you’ll forget how good they really are. So a few bad one’s throw it all into a rather good perspective. Right now I think I’m in a good cookie moment.  

The Great of great.

On seeing my friend had written about the Great Gatsby, it reminded me how much I loved the movie. The story line was quite nice, the concept was quite cool and the lessons were quite meaningful. What I loved though was the extravagance! A fairytale bought into the adult world. Oh how I wanted a house so big I could get lost in it with curtains that danced throughout the room when the wind blew in or laws so perfectly mowed it looked as though someone had painted them. 

I wanted big dresses and fast cars and horses that were exceptionally groomed. A little cottage next door and a pool that looked so crystal you could drink from it. Or perhaps it was the food and the dancing and the parties! Oh how I wanted to party! A mindless whirlwind of dancing and laughing and frolicking! 

It was a film of pure dream. Of course until it all ended badly, sadly and without event other than to leave one a little shell shocked at the fact all this extravagance amounted to nothing. 

I wanted to run away at that moment and join in. I wanted so badly to take that life. That is the signature of a good film.