Category Archives: WRITE TO RECOVER

Write to recover.

Vacant

I’m scared  because I don’t know how to comfort her anymore.

I’m scared because when I go and visit her ,

She  does this trick of making out like her eyes have glazed over into a  dark,shut, emerald door.

I can’t see inside. I try to peek through  the keyhole,  carefully.

There is  seemingly no one there.

Vacant. a word chastened in hyperbole.

The remnants of a body is  clearly  still  in front of me.

I only sit and stare.

I hear a sound – high pitched screams.

It sounds like there is a disturbing altercation   going on in there.

A neighbour  breathes and passes by , leaving  only a scented whisper of

” Feed her chocolate. It keeps her subdued”.

Fair trade Chocolate does not seem like the  ethical solution  to end  a deplorable mental feud.

The air is thick with  my punctuated  words.

WHY?

the neighbour screams,

Red, furious and right up in my face-

“BECAUSE THEN YOU WON’T HAVE TO KEEP UP YOUR NOBLE ATTEMPTS TO MAKE OUT SHE IS STILL A PART OF US HUMANS SPACE“

She is!

look,

Look at her .

I kiss her head and she flirts with that smile.

The neighbour shakes his head.

“All she does is mumble like a car spluttering ,trying to clock one last mile”.

“It would be kinder if they actually just stopped and kept her  underfed.”

Oh really, if she  doesn’t understand then why the hell did she lash  out to hit me ? 

She saw her ring on my finger .

If she is only a  shell then why do  such  emotions come out like she is  a venomous, angered Bee?

“I wish she would go. It has no existence”.

Yes, it is hard to see her exist like this but the only alternative you suggest is that me ,you and her have even more distance.

Maybe I am selfish,

but nobody really knows how much she  knows.

Just because she can’t speak or walk or do much anymore .

it doesn’t meant everyone can just talk  around her like a she is a retard.

 It doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel our ignorance  like fists pummelling  her heart in  fierce blows.

I see the image of her in bed , sleeping with her Teddy bear.

 I can’t take my eyes away from it and just pretend that this is what it is and carry on like I don’t care.

I don’t cry. I will try .

I don’t try . I cry.

Suffer.

Suffer.

Suffer.

If it was me in her place,

 I would make sure I had a will that specified I decided when I wanted to  dissipate into another state or  place.

(For my Gran. Dementia is ……. I am at a loss for words)



Carnival Freaksbut they’re my freaks

‘Don’t compromise yourself. You’re all you’ve got.’ –Janis Joplin

Got to live up to my reputation for being brutally honest, right? I feel so low. I know I post mostly positive posts and come across as having my shit together. I do, most of the time. I can’t pretend that in a couple of months, something has shifted in me. It’s been big enough to derail me – the crustal plates in my mind and body have moved too much and too soon. I have to lean on something to stop me from falling, falling to where? and on what?   What if I just fall and never stop.  How does it feel? I sit back. It’s gnarled at my insides. I have to remind myself to pull the carbon monoxide out with each breath. 

Why now? I have so much to live for, to be happy for. Is this the nature of mental illness? My inner Iago is a great trickster -it can make the most amazing opportunities, experiences that are going to happen or are happening seem like a mirage. It loves to betray me. It loves to jinx me. It loves to beat me. I know it is him but he is good at hiding.

 He is sly and duped my lazy /starved neurotransmitters into believing that they can’t take one tiny step over, from one synapse to another.

 COURAGE YOU IDIOTS!

Man up! I’m on enough pills. I should be a billion dollar comedian with all the serotonin and dopamine whizzing round my brain.

I had a full-blown panic attack this morning. I had to ask G to come upstairs and hold me. This has worked before. I then got up and cleaned up and hit the gym. That helped but it came back with reinforcements. So , picture me mentally rummaging around my wellness toolbox to find the right tool to smooth over the grave bits. The ones that live between my ribs – that defy gravity…

It’s not my heart racing, it’s that space high up in the middle of my first four ribs. It’s like every breath I take is halved- stolen. I have the need to break free, to implode- no, explode from this human body of mine and let the energy disperse. It won’t leave willingly. I need to pick up my sharpest knife , slice myself open and let all the carnival loose.

The freaks can’t stay. I want to accept them but they repulse me. I am scared that if they stay within me, I may become them and I will feel this way forever.

I’m just typing. Loads of errors. I’m hoping I can write myself out of a panic attack. Nothing else seems to have worked.. I am trying to take the least amount of medication as possible. 

I’m due to have a Skype call with a lady who will be making my jewelled bouquets in 20 minutes. I need to send the freaks on errands 

Legless man,go and find a pair.

Fortune teller – read up on everyone’s star signs- dust off your glass ball. Go find some mystery somewhere else.

Obese lady- waddle down the lane and get some organic shit down your pipe hole- and make sure you stop by the pastry shop. Hopefully, you will be too full to waddle back 

Claw hand man – practice jerking off and walking sideways – right, no just a bit more to the right, oops, sorry! I didn’t see the cliff. 

ALL OF YOU – I MEAN EVERYONE. VACATE. THE CARNIVAL HAS SHUT DOWN. 

 They beg me. They have nowhere else to go. Pleading, I can’t turn my eyes away from them despite their defects. I look at them. How can I leave them stranded with nobody to want them and nowhere to go? 

So I write. I tell them I need to cool off. I need them to just go and find something to do and they can come back once I’ve had time to be alone. Once I find peace. Once I can breathe again. I could never make them homeless.

They are freaks. Yes, they scare me but they are my freaks. Sometimes they listen to me and respect me. Let me feel a bit of peace. They come back quieter now and get on with preparing for the next show. I just need to reign them in every now and then.

It’s going to be alright. The order has been restored. I write to live- I write for peace.

I am.

I am.

I am.

I am …

I am…

and that is good enough.



Strange Blood

Dad,

How do I  wish you a great day without addressing the past?

Memories are  usually a good place to start.

Let’s forget about the bad ones.

No room for improvement in a negative mind state.

You taught me how to fish.

That was cool because I actually caught a fish but I was not impressed when you threw him back into the ocean – he was too small to eat.

You taught me a valuable lesson:

Compassion and what is necessary.

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That night I was sitting on the step, crying. Mom was going through a tough time. Nobody understood how ill she was and you sat next to me and begged me not to follow in my Mom footsteps. I would never live a life with joy.

I learnt that  enemies can want the same thing and can come from two completely different viewpoints . Ma never wanted me to follow in her footsteps either.

I remember the day I baked you a cake. You came over to Nan’s and you were sobbing. My great granddad was not well.

You taught me that there is a lot that goes inside a person’s mind and just because they don’t express emotion all the time, it doesn’t mean they care any less.

I remember trying to get to know each other in 1994. My holiday and first time back to South Africa in 6 years.

I sensed you were trying to talk . To break the ice. It is a pity my sister in her teens and  a little shit at the time and you had to act as the buffer.

I learnt that vulnerability doesn’t make you weak. I learned that jealousy is a wasted emotion. It makes us say ugly things.  I am only sad you didn’t try again to speak to me -one on one. 

I remember on that same holiday we went on a safari. It was a treat and one of the best days of my life.

You taught me that you did indeed care about my happiness and you wanted to create happy memories.

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The truth is we are not close for so many reasons. I am so over blaming. It’s unproductive and the truth is we do things that we think are the best for each moment we live. 

I understand this because I am a parent.

I know it is hard to instigate a conversation with someone you barely know.

I know you may have feelings about what you could or should have done differently. 

Let’s not get too hung up on what we could have done. 

Focus more on today and what we can do today.

Want to hear something funny?

I may not know you very well but I have kind of ended up getting married to a man whose birthday is two days apart from your own. I am actually marrying my Dad, in a crazy roundabout way.

AWKWARDS!

Before I end this -I want to thank all those silly quizzes you do on Facebook. 

Who would think that I can learn so much about you based on a trivial quiz? 

We may not be close but if anything happened to you and I held you in my heart with resentment and bitterness, I would never forgive myself.

I do love you, Dad. 

There is some ethereal sense of commitment I have to you. I can’t give you up. I have tried but I won’t give up on you -ever.

I know my illness scares/ scares you. 

I am much more self aware th

I know you do but I want to feel you  see you and hear your voice. 

Have a great day , Dad -from the U.K. to S.A.

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HAPPY FATHERS DAY



ese days. I don’t blame you , Dad. 

All I wish for is to get to know you better. To sit down and have a chat, laugh and I want to look into your eyes and I want you to hug me and tell me you love me.



Thoughts about my daddy issues

If this is hanging my “dirty ” laundry’ out then I will say that this a fresh lot of laundry, just out the machine. It smells of. Jasmine & posies. It’s clean.
And me? I’m only a rag n bone hope sapien like the rest of us. I do what I do to get by. Enjoy your day & if it isn’t Father’s day in South Africa (it is here in your Yorkshire).
I can still see the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh & I can hear your laugh in my inner ear (or mind).
HAPPY FATHERS DAY!
I wish I could give you a hug cos I know how close you were to your Dad. And the loss is hard. You have support ( and I will be thinking of you). I still remember how you broke down great Grandad fell ill when I was 12 or summit. I hugged you. And you let me hug you. It made me cry. These are my words.

What is your big fat monster?

Write about what scares you the most. What is the big monster inside you that stops you from writing?

 

In order to answer this question, I need to explain how I feel. How do I feel? I feel that nauseating twisting cord in the pit of my stomach, that bit that hits the lungs and makes it hard for me to catch my breath. It is pure fear. I’m waiting for fear. I’m crying with rage thinking that I am going to fail. Going to fail? WHY  the hell have I put those words down? 

I’m 

fulfilling my own destiny if I continue to write, to think this way. So pessimistic.  I’m so sad. Who wants to know about sadness? There is too much of it already in our lives. I try my hardest to carry on and swallow down the lump of sadness and anxiety that keeps rising up trying to force me into regurgitation mode. I try to smile and distract myself by the cows and the horses and the sheep passing by. I make the animal sounds with my daughter. I never want her to know such sadness.

 

My big monster is a haunting sense of failure. As I type the cord pulls tighter. It is my very own Gordian knot but it pulls at me with such a force that I forget that I’m typing and it reminds me that I’m freestyling it. Winging it. Just getting it out.

 

 Letting it all hang out. Let’s face it, I’m not going to become a better writer if I don’t write.  A pause here. My partner doesn’t know how to help me. I glance at my daughter. She brushes her teeth and gives me a smile of pride. She turns around and I suddenly notice her honeyed hair has grown and she finally looks like the little lady she is. She is an only child. She has lots of imaginary friends and is always talking to her friends and singing.

 

 How can I be so sad and have this terrible sense of inauspicious dread pervading my insides? I should be happy! I’m getting married in 8 months. I am loved and I love.

Yet, here  I sit -twiddling my fingers – hesitant. expecting to be caught out.  I’m waiting for the tokoloshe or some other monster to come and turn me inside out and roll me out and shake me around like a big old cotton sheet. Hang me up and then beat the starch of uselessness out of me- for all  to see. I know it is there-somewhere – camouflaged chameleon-like  – waiting to expose its true face. I just don’t know when it will strike.

 

It will be quick like a scorpion attack – one quick whip and all my innards will be turned inside out.  Something has happened to my breathing.

The knot has gone away! Where the hell did it go? Did I imagine it? No, it is gone. I’ve typed myself out of a brooding sense of failure.

 

At least I hope this is what I have done. Has typing down just anything and everything cured my manic inflictions? The one thing I fear – is I can’t write and yet, when I write I feel more contained, a wholly vessel, worthy and strong enough for arduous  travels across the waves of  an ocean of enigmas.

 

Okay, so this post is no masterpiece but I know what cures me. The sadness has lifted somewhat. I can now pin down the real reason I feel sad today.  Before I continue, my partner has just come to tell me he loves me and to take a break from typing. I told him

“Oh I’m just typing some rubbish!”

 

Why the hell do I put myself down so much?  I’m currently holding the title of Atlas… I don’t want his burden, thanks. How do other people cope and stop that feeling of failure? Don’t answer that… or do if you wish to. In fact please do…

 

Sadness comes from an afternoon visit with my Gran with Dementia and Alzheimers. Why does this illness have to exist? Why does my Gran have to live like she does? How can there be a God when there is so much suffering behind those eyes-  her confusion staring back at me? Staring me down. A mischievous imp -goading me to carry on smiling with my eyes. It knows I’m faking it.  

 She stroked my face -touched it like a  blind person -feeling every bump, every contour. I’m sad because I can’t control time. I can’t control what is happening to her. We are all getting older and time is running out and I need to make a bigger contribution to my life and to the people around me before my time is up. I close my eyes and think : When was the last time I really laughed?

 

Oh yeah, two nights ago. I Skyped my mom and I said something and my uncles overheard what I said and started taking the piss about how direct I am. Family…. not going there but I need my family.



The optimistic Anorexic

I know I have been going on and on about my Anorexia lately but what else can I do but pour out all my stress in my head  out and down onto paper ( well a post) I have started eating again and yes, the scales have gone up by 2 kilos. I do feel anxious and think the scales are going to go up and up and up and up – you get the picture. Since eating food again I have finally got my strength back. 

I have the energy to exercise again which means I can eat stuff I enjoy and fingers crossed not put on weight. I still am holding back with portions etc.. but I feel alive again.

 Anorexia had started to take all my confidence again and I didn’t think I could work in the volunteer sector any more. I had started to become paranoid and my thoughts came out in jumbled sentences.

 I was forgetting how to communicate. I felt like a failure.

But, the silver lining is I keep on fighting. I didn’t resort to old coping mechanisms such as  using coffee, chewing gum, pepsi max and other vices to kill my appetite. If I had chosen to go down that route then I might as well have built myself a coffin. The truth I am stronger than my illness. I’ve accomplished so much in four years. I have a lot of livin to do and being skeletal is not a part of that journey.

Of course, I want to be lean and toned. I want to be healthy. I don’t know what has happened but there has been a shift in my mind set. 

I wish I could tell you how I have done it. I suppose seeing what life is like on the other side of a despondent hell has helped me a lot. My family has helped me. I’m stubborn and wilful but I guess that has been  my anchor.  

My life raft. These tr

aits are  being used for a more positive reason.

I read a lot of posts where people with mental health issues are suffering so much. They don’t have the support and help they need. Here is me with an almost perfect little family, my health- I am not in a wheelchair or have problems so severe I can’t keep healthy and fit. I am not some idiot. I am articulate and smart. I am ambitious and a go-getter. This is my true nature.

 Not some vile, putrid anorexic that cowardly hides behind a mask . I got my medication changed and I do feel better. It may just be a placebo but it works for me. It has helped get me back on equal footing with the world.

I’m feeling optimistic again.  I am going places and with one blow the candle goes out and I can turn the volume down on those voices- trying to lure me like Odysseus’ sirens. I’m navigating my way around the rocky depths of Scylla’s cave.  I’m on my way home- to reconnect with my Penelope- my soul, my pure self. My most loyal self. The self  who has never let me down.


What a Keeper

Once you’ve been knocked about and taken a couple of punches to the face DO NOT run after your partner and console him and say ‘We will work it out’

Do not have sympathy for his anger/ low self-confidence issues and his ‘justified’ reasons. Just because he got bullied in the army, it does not  give anyone the excuse to abuse someone.

Don’t kind of) move in weeks into knowing the guy/gal

Drinking may seem like fun at the time but if you wake up and you take a good look around you and see the house is a tip/ filth everywhere, and you are a neat freak. 

Don’t offer to stay and help sort out the house

don’t allow yourself to be manipulated into ‘liking’ his sexual fetishes. If you feel dead inside while you are screwing, then it may be a sign that you are not in a relationship with healthy sexual boundaries.

Don’t use all your money to keep him going

Don’t stop looking after yourself – if you love to wear makeup. Don’t stop. If he loves your hair up, don’t stop wearing it down sometimes

Don’t fall pregnant 5 weeks into the relationship.

Do not allow yourself to be coerced into taking your on/off partner with you to get an Abortion. He will make you feel like a murderer for the remainder of your days with him.

Don’t start drinking heavily after the Abortion and sleep with on/off ex days after the abortion -you may just fall pregnant again.

Do not feel you have to take the blame for the reason he can’t keep hold of a job/ house/ or pay the bills- this might lead you to taking him and his two son’s( who he sees on weekends) to set up bunk beds in the living room  and use your your one bedroom cottage as a ‘family home’.

If you take a serious overdose and your partner does not seek help in the 4/5 days you are unconscious -it is not a good enough excuse to say he knows ‘First aid’ and didn’t feel the need to ring A & E.

If he knows you have an eating disorder and he starts to call you ‘affectionate’ names such as ‘elephant feet’ – you will probably feel shit about yourself and rate yourself a zero.

If your cat won’t leave your side and growls and runs under the bed every time she senses your partner’s presence – Your cat/dog/pet might be onto something.

If you want to get married and your partner is already married but separated and has no money to afford a divorce– maybe you need to assess your priorities

Don’t drink and take drugs or benzos – you will probably black out and stories about you being violent may crop up.

If you want to move and get out of a room and your partner blocks the way, don’t cower away

Don’t let your partner threaten to make you homeless if you don’t buy him a new car, because you apparently lost the keys to the car. You then find the ‘lost’ car keys in his son’s drawers, after you have bought the car,with your student finance money.

If you need to have micro surgery on your arm after your partner smashes your arm into a double glazed window. Don’t allow him to stay with you at the hospital, especially when the doctor wants a private word with you and you only

If you suddenly start losing all your friends and ignore their advice then you are probably firmly  tangled into your partner’s web.The predator’s  rules rule. You are more likely to believe your friends are false and affirm you are not likeable.

If you have an argument on Christmas eve, when you are both drunk and you black out, and then find yourself in a cell on Christmas day. Don’t just believe your partner’s version of events and what he tells the police.

If your partner keeps on making you homeless. DO NOT  write emails back and forth begging him to let you come home and begging him/her to love you. It is a mind game. One of many that your partner chooses to control you. rendering you weak and inferior

If you are in a crowd with people socialising don’t look at your partner. He may give you looks like what you are saying is stupid,  it may make you stop talking because you think that his manner and expression is what every one else is thinking.

If your partner threatens that if you ever try to leave him he will make sure your child will be taken away from you – you need to do some serious thinking

If you are arguing and he punches you in the stomach when you are 3 months pregnant – think about the life inside you and what his motives are for punching you when your baby is growing.

If you go out and come back home and you get the silent treatment. Don’t fall into the trap of asking him what is up with him. He may use this as an excuse to throw you around and accuse you of flirting/ kissing another guy/s. It may also give him the excuse to ‘punish’ you sexually.

If your mother sees red every time his name is mentioned or when they meet up -maybe your Mom has a good reason. Ask her.

The first time you meet his mom and have a girlie natter over coffee and his own mother warns you not to give up your home and questions you about his drinking habits. She may be telling you something – In fact this is a BIG RED WARNING SIGN THAT THIS MAY NOT TURN OUT WELL.

If he sits in a corner rolling his eyes while you are in labour screaming and grunting and pushing your baby out of you -he is possibly the biggest dick ever.

Don’t tell him he has a small dick when you are drunk. You will probably pay for it somewhere down the line. Mental abuse is pretty potent.

If you have to stay in hospital for longer than necessary due to mental/ physical health issues and he won’t leave your side -not even to brush his teeth or take a shower- he may just be worried someone will want to talk with you.

If he has to leave your side to feed your cat and the midwife asks you questions about your relationship. Talk to her!

If you are afraid to leave him with your child,or even for him to hold your baby -trust your instincts. Something is probably seriously wrong with this relationship

If you are advised to put your surname on your child’s birth certificate -maybe ask why. Someone may be trying to tell you something

If you keep on overdosing regularly in the relationship. Perhaps you are not happy and need to think about your options.

If you find your partner talking to  other girls on-line and leaving the laptop wide open for anyone to see – you are been played and there is some serious mind fucking going one.

If you have given up your home and have had to find a new home, seven months pregnant, because you have been thrown out AGAIN – perhaps this partner doesn’t give a shit.

If your partner lets you do most of the painting in your new home  and carry most of the shopping bags in the latter stage of your pregnancy – this says a lot about his character and his views on how he sees females.

If you are watching the ‘X factor’ with him and Nicole Sherzinger comes on in dancing and singing a provocative dress and he slams his beer down and starts shouting, that she deserves to be raped, No child of his will be allowed to dress like that- RUN!

If he puts his other two sons before your child -this too says a lot about his character and possibly what he thinks about the female gender.

If you splurge out on loads of gifts for his birthday,. say you get him a watch with the names of his children and the date of  each of their birth dates engraved on the back. When you present him with his gifts, and if all he has to say is ‘you got S’s birth-date wrong’ -He is a cunt.

If you are in the worst place mentally and physically and are finding it hard to cope when he is around. You carry on drinking too much when you are around him and have another blackout. You may wake up in a cell again and be told you need a lawyer.

Why? Because your partner may have said you assaulted your child and shook her. Then he goes  to seek legal advice the next day to try and get full parental responsibility over your child-  due to your poor mental health:it is time to get your armour on and prepare for battle.

If social services become involved and it looks like he is losing the battle and he agrees with social services to have your child adopted at 12 weeks old. Try hard not to pay a sniper to take him out.

If you get your child back after 16 months of fighting social services and your ex-partner -and he then wants nothing to do with your child ever! THANK THE BASTARD  for finally doing something positive in the entire relationship.



Mind tricks

“I feel as if I were a piece in a game of chess, when my opponent says of it: That piece cannot be moved.”  Soren Kierkegaard   #FollowGreatFootsteps

WHY I’V CHOSEN THIS QUOTE

Not an especially inspiring quote  but it does reflect  my mood and the frustration I am feeling at the moment.

There are plenty of us  living with all sort of illnesses and I just like many of you , try to cope with living with them in the best way I can. These days I have good coping strategies but they don’t seem to be working.

I’m using my new skills and upping my game harder than ever and still I suffer.

No purgatory.

Well, there is an element of being lost and not knowing in what direction I am going in.

My opponent not only mastered this game of chess ,he carved the very pieces of each piece,  made the board and wrote the the rules. To say I’m frustrated and stuck is an understatement.

I’m struggling . That is the truth.

I need to start to think differently. I don’t know where the rule book is. I know all the cheat ways to get to my goal but I want to do it in a courageous and new way.

Our fight is frustrating. We feel at the mercy of our illness but we can stick together and support one another. Just by expressing ourselves in our blogging we are reaching out for support.

I need another way. I’m reaching out today becasue I don’t know who else to turn too

Acceptance

“Happiness can exist only in acceptance” George Orwell

Why this quote?

I have days when I am buzzing. I’m on an all self empowerment mission

 

if you don’t like me then talk to the palm , see the worry on my deadpan face.

Not accepting what and who you are and look like is a one way trip to an asylum – I know  this.

Some days I accept I am a “normal” weight  and body shape now. I am not supposed to l have  the body and measurements of a 14-15 year old.

 

I know this but I have moments where I struggle to accept I have breasts, periods, thighs that touch, hip bones not jutting out.

I work out but I am not muscular -I try to see that this is healthy and is a  desirable  look  to achieve and aim for.

 

Sometimes it is hard to separate my old beliefs that healthy =  chubby or not slim or thin.

I wonder if I have made some God awful mistake taking up  exercise. I’ve bulked up and when I see a picture of myself, on a down day. I zone in my arms.

Why are they so big? Where have my waif arms gone?

Not accepting yourself can drive you mad. I know this.

It drives old behaviours and thoughts.

There is me trying to fit in with the world and it ends up like this!

My biggest not so helpful behaviours are weighing myself obsessively -so I may as well super glue the thing to my feet, I do it so much.

The worst mind fuckery is when I ask my partner to take pictures of me. It is hard to accept myself  and be happy in a body when the mind won’t allow it.

It rejects the body as a whole. It zones in on one particular aspect.

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Big arms, no six pack, bloated tummy, cellulite.

So many thoughts scrabble  the mind

It must be the increase in medication

 I eat too much 

Why did I fool myself?

Why did I let myself be fooled that I am beautiful? 

The most insane thought…

Let me upload a bunch of pics of me  in my bikini,not in some exotic holiday place lazing by the pool ,sipping cocktails; but in my small bedroom, pale , no tan, trying to get in  as many angles as possible so I can scrutinise my body.

Anorexia begs me

PLEASE PUT THESE PICTURES UP! WE NEED SOME KIND OF VALIDATION!

I won’t and I can’t….

So this is just a small insight into how even ONE day of not accepting yourself and others can turn your day from driving by in a vintage open top Rolls Royce, past cotton fields, the air is a  sweet honey and the smell of fresh pine.

Not accepting yourself or  others can turn into a day of picking cotton, boiling and beating the starch out of the linen, the smell of sweet honey becomes a harbinger, it coats the scent of dead charred bodies- slaves.  Try to mask it. You become the person who sees the carefree people drive by so cool and seemingly  no problems.

I want to be happy so I must strive to accept myself as much as possible. I cling on to the good days and try to remind myself of the days when  I feel like I am in a suit and not a real body.

in other news today… Money comes in and money goes out.

It’s bill paying day  Just go with this one, please.

That is fucking seriously depressing but it doesn’t depress me because I accept that in order to be comfortable and happy I have to pay for that privilege.

It sucks that  I have to pay for it but it DOES NOT  have an impact on my happiness. I know I am poor in money and rich in love – I accept that just a  thought. ….



Be careful what you wish for.

 

Days go by and merge into one long never-ending Groundhog day at times. Well, it does for me -every now and then.

I create excitement in my life by signing up to do things that I think are going to get me out of the slump. Give my life a wardrobe of scenery changes and with that hopefully comes new feelings.

These feelings are my drug- the euphoria I crave. The rush of blood to the head.  Anything to make me feel worthy.

Be careful what you wish for.

In all the time I have wished for things to change and things to not stay the same. It has had good outcomes and bad.

 I guess the crucial question is what is it I have been wishing for that I have created to become my reality. 

What about relationships?

We can all get into “are we doing enough” in our relationships?

Are we living life together and truly going for it?

Be Careful what you wish for.

Sometimes it is okay for things to stay the same.

What am I going on about?

Say someone you care about has an appointment for an eye test or a medical review.

You then get a phone call saying that person has to go to hospital to get another opinion on their health status.

Why didn’t this person tell me things could get so serious?  

I’m in shock. I don’t react.

This second opinion then turns into a third opinion.

No more mundane sameness. I have got my wish.

Am I prepared?

To do surgery or not?  This is two people I know and love now, one is definitely   having invasive surgery on Thursday and the other person  is to find out if they should have surgery.

You can’t buy health.

You can try…..

 When your health is steady and away -this is a good time to not wish that there was more going on in your life.

I would rather live the rest of my days partying hardly if it meant the health of the ones I adore didn’t go from not something to worry about, to

fuck what am I going to do if I lose you mode.

Accept that whatever/whomever you have in life  is a blessing.

So what if you don’t have a model’s clothing wardrobe , a TV. the size of an over-inflated sponge bob character?

So what if you don’t get loads of  likes on your posts, status updates and profile pictures?

Yes, all of these things can give you that high we crave. The one that gets our heart beating like a wooden drum.

Success after hard work or not is an exhilarating feeling.

Personally, I just don’t think it would keep my happiness momentum going, for as long as I had the people around me- well and in my life.

I too want to better myself and have everything better .Sometimes it’s alright if something is serving its purpose and is good enough.

I don’t believe we are put into the world to seek validation from others.

 Though I can’t tell you how many times and years I have wasted seeking it.

There is so much that is superficial – nobody knows what is real.

I watched a  documentary on the fashion industry last week. Watch the TRAILER if you can.  Us ladies and now men strive to fit into clothes made to look good on a  13/14 or 15 year old child. 

POTENTIAL NEXT BIG SUPER-MODEL !

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NADJA -SAME GIRL AS ABOVE. WE STRIVE TO LOOK LIKE THIS

The targets are the coy lolita looking ones that , say a  girl  out of Siberia -living in a world of poverty at the back end of a communist regime era , with  the promise of earning loads of money and travelling the world off the back of their one playing card- their looks. 

There are children going over  to Asia or the West and can’t speak English and are children and get exploited. There is no glossing over it.

These girls start going to modelling schools as young as 5 years old learning to manipulate the camera –

Make love to it !

Isn’t it crazy that most of us humans in this world are  brainwashed into having sick minds?

Isn’t there enough disease and suffering for the taking?

We get older and still strive to dress in provocative clothes that  can only look good on a 13/14-year-old model!

That whole sentence is just incongruous.

This is the extent to how ill our society is.

How ill we all are.

We get older – fashion can’t survive on yesterdays’ image!

We don’t even have time to get the ‘today’ look off the hanger.

The fashion world and society won’t let us enjoy a moment that extends further than a sales transaction and a bag of goodies ,that mainly ends up as close to your body as that sinister lampshade you inherited from some distant relative.

It makes you  shudder every time you pass it or look at it. Epic impulse buy. I buy into it -a lot of us do

So, we are always chasing the ‘look of tomorrow’,  usually a younger version of some ‘ideal image’ that could easily have found its way into the Deity section in the Roman world.

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It is an illusion.

Our bodies and minds change in our lifetime.  Nature dictates and  so does society.

Often both are in conflict.

We are not meant to be trapped in a peter pan -esque body for the rest of our lives.

I’ve kind of digressed.

Well, I have made it less personal.

This is how the post started-  health and my loved ones as being something personal to me .

I guess I have taken the model industry and society as an example of our idea of what healthy and successful is.

 It then becomes something that is hopefully a post we can all relate too.

If it is personal to all of us, maybe we can understand or start to question what is the picture of  true health and success. 

What is true happiness?

What is true?

There is no need to go chasing dreams and filling other’s pockets if it is going to make you ill.

Instead of being a small dot in someone else’s story, go and make your own. I’m sure you will get to the end of your story  in a better mental and physical state . HAPPY EVEN!

Be Careful what you wish for.