tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58083480319644690082024-03-13T12:32:05.783+11:00Spilling InkSpilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.comBlogger519125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-50049174061779081792022-10-21T14:58:00.005+11:002022-10-21T15:00:08.304+11:00When You Wish Upon a Star<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT9hCnFJak8jgoCKfyEfSZmrnEmLjOODi8hM9mq8e_9r9pSXbf76LYUHaGOAI8LnwPWO4dqeg97rOkP2AisUmGfM0_SoxqQJoQ2kgZ6iC5eUgqWVT38devbzXcv9ZneHMGa_Pp-DLTjKW9aCb07-ccLFC8EUnKifwNHj_tCLnfJ9zVw7IZcATMWa-u/s403/311900514_786434309248016_4733305866225552793_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="403" data-original-width="403" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT9hCnFJak8jgoCKfyEfSZmrnEmLjOODi8hM9mq8e_9r9pSXbf76LYUHaGOAI8LnwPWO4dqeg97rOkP2AisUmGfM0_SoxqQJoQ2kgZ6iC5eUgqWVT38devbzXcv9ZneHMGa_Pp-DLTjKW9aCb07-ccLFC8EUnKifwNHj_tCLnfJ9zVw7IZcATMWa-u/w640-h640/311900514_786434309248016_4733305866225552793_n.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px;">There used to be a time when those of us “in the know” stayed hidden in our broom closets and didn’t talk about “the craft” or that we are *gasp* “witches”. With good reason I’d say, because the backlash could be like an avalanche of suspicion, scorn, hate and if you were unlucky, accusations of being in league with demons.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">That was before it became popular to manifest, cast spells and being a witch. Nowadays TikTok is saturated with what I like to refer to as “baby witches” most of whom I have absolutely no respect for because I am, after all, and old hand at this. I come at “WitchTok” armed with decades of practice tucked into my back pocket and I’ll whip out at the drop of a witch’s hat just because my ego demands I get some respect.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I was polishing and shining my athame (ceremonial knife) to place on the altar I was hiding in a drawer or cupboard back when no one knew how to spell Wicca, and I had rejected it as “fluffy bunny” crap by the time it came to be part of the collective consciousness.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Decades and decades, and I know the lingo, I’ve had the heated discussions and I’ve fallen out with an internationally renowned witch over the kind of sessions she was offering people who would’ve been better served by seeing a psychologist, sessions that weren’t exactly cheap.</p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I stepped out in the open for a while, I even had a website and I trained people, but while my journey included a lot that really helped me along the way, I can categorically say that what’s now become part of pop culture is utter tosh. From tarot card readings to mediums and psychics, to shamans and energy healers, to crystals and smudging, to manifestation and vision boards, I’m now standing strong in my view that it has as much validity and efficacy as anything else that you decide is going to help you get life to grant any advantage or fortune you could possibly imagine.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"> </p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Belief and belief systems are powerful but often they’re not in the way that we imagine, so when you wish upon a star your dreams may come true for very different reasons if you’re lucky enough to with the dream coming true lottery!</p>Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-66589813287710018112022-09-14T18:03:00.003+10:002022-10-21T13:01:00.214+11:00A moment in time...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCKUWfYzxB3QXa0_2bEFOrdbNq4OJmpq27J_uzMmJfcA1_YyQzv5NfWsgb1_cZuNMDYTsiXbfgjxK8KkpOSe1SesH-qq4Ksd9RSls7Qzx0s5KBgIU6JpFr5M5mZxZYAVC0tkLSDSM4Ewi139BnygkhHMl9Un1CePp9bmkaKccCgU6kJ6FeRMuGVnEi/s3024/IMG_8077.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCKUWfYzxB3QXa0_2bEFOrdbNq4OJmpq27J_uzMmJfcA1_YyQzv5NfWsgb1_cZuNMDYTsiXbfgjxK8KkpOSe1SesH-qq4Ksd9RSls7Qzx0s5KBgIU6JpFr5M5mZxZYAVC0tkLSDSM4Ewi139BnygkhHMl9Un1CePp9bmkaKccCgU6kJ6FeRMuGVnEi/w640-h640/IMG_8077.png" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I've been thinking a lot about what I want for myself in life going forward. It feels, and it's been feeling like that for a while now, like I'm at some sort of tipping point. Maybe it's an age thing. Maybe it's that I've come to certain realisations and conclusions in general about life and how it's all panned out, what I can and cannot have or do, and what I thought I would have or would be by now.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: courier;">Life just doesn't end up where we originally think it will...and maybe that's just the way it is and maybe even more so, it's really a giant blessing.</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Any moment beyond the one you're living right now, <i>beyond right now,</i> doesn't exist except perhaps in your own imagination and perhaps in what others imagine they want for you. Any moment is a moment that will in part be of your own making but that's also subject to influences that you cannot possibly anticipate or control. It's a scary thought but it's also freeing; it's a thought that's free from expectations of others and subject only to what you feel is right for you and the world going forward, how are you choosing to move forward into the unknown? What can you actually carry on with you from moment to moment in life?</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I'm the kind of person who easily gets stuck in striving and striving, sometimes without a real clue as to what it is I'm really trying to achieve or reach. I thrive on pushing boundaries and growing beyond what seems possible but it has honestly come at a price, and the price is losing the ability to slow down and just to chill not needing or achieve anything at all. It really shouldn’t come as a surprise that I have anxiety and panic attacks. I love it when people recommend meditation as a way of managing it and learning to switch off because I used to teach it but for me, well, I don’t want to switch off or switch down; I really love it when my mind is juggling several things at the same time, it’s like some sort of addiction. </span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">But, maybe, it’s connected to the realisation that any moment beyond this one is a moment that doesn’t exist, and all there really is is the moment that is now.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-15627823354936906292022-02-15T17:28:00.001+11:002022-02-15T17:28:43.432+11:00I Keep My Visions to Myself<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjqxos2JXnMzR5zARVs_qN7cUA2f9sUeb8OGgOvUpaYX_ZNBVZeMc7vGIQuNP9qVE2eTHJw_XnbZ3pmvtpiNpllpYElUYuMPmayq7RiCyh8oN9dZLPvJ4r29ZRCZMIAI24imU6K16uIw4UrVoQmGsPg8rC1WdF0oQwDPOEM8KFsYuJCXIiqHBtoWFHo=s3024" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjqxos2JXnMzR5zARVs_qN7cUA2f9sUeb8OGgOvUpaYX_ZNBVZeMc7vGIQuNP9qVE2eTHJw_XnbZ3pmvtpiNpllpYElUYuMPmayq7RiCyh8oN9dZLPvJ4r29ZRCZMIAI24imU6K16uIw4UrVoQmGsPg8rC1WdF0oQwDPOEM8KFsYuJCXIiqHBtoWFHo=w640-h640" width="640" /></a></div><br />King of Wands: A natural born leader, and a visionary who can change the world. Someone who is focused on their goals with ambition and intent. Be assertive, grab life by the horns and take control!<div><br /></div><div>The pandemic has been hard on all of us, there's no doubt about it. But, I feel on so many levels that the hardest part of what most of us have gone through is that we've had to change the way we do things and not being able to do what we usually do. </div><div><br /></div><div>A lot of it has been about having to change habits which has lead to, in my case at least, to reevaluate a lot of what I had been doing. It's never comfortable to have to deviate from habits - being able to stick to habits brings a sense of certainty. It usually takes something bigger happening before we take a look at things and evaluate the status quo.</div><div><br /></div><div>I changed job twice during the pandemic. It was in part because I was coming to the end of a contract that couldn't be renewed so when I was offered a higher position with more money I jumped opting not to wait for a new position to be created that I could slide into where I was. I walked straight into a reorganisation of the department I was in, I did a u-turn and came back to an upgraded version of the position I had just left.</div><div><br /></div><div>The few months out of my old job did me the world of good. A very short "dating stint" during that time and during the pandemic did me the world of good. Both the new job and the new relationship when to sh*t but it showed me an awful lot about who I've become, and as a result I'm a lot surer about who I am and what I want. I'm a lot more focused and it has helped see how far I've come.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not sure I'm ready to grab life by the horns and take full control but I'm a lot more ready to realise that I have a lot more control and influence on how things turn out. We can't control everything but even when the going gets tough, and life throws us curve ball after curve ball there's an awful lot we can do if we're just prepared to allow ourselves to go with the flow and look for new opportunities.</div><div><br /></div><div>On the back of what had to change last year, the changes the pandemic forced me to make, there are things I really want to achieve this year but I'm almost afraid to put those things out there. I can see clearly how I want things to be but some of it still feels fragile even if I have a strong feeling things will come to fruition. I can see it but I can't touch it yet, and I don't want to be disappointed even when I have a strong sense of being able to make it happen. </div><div><br /></div><div>I can't help but hearing Stevie Nicks' haunting voice in my head as she sings "Now here I go again, I see the crystal visions. I keep my visions to myself" but I stay focused on what I want to achieve and what I want to bring into my life. But, I keep my visions to myself because I don't want anyone to tell me that I can't do or can't have.</div><div><br /></div><div><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div>Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-10419757132589525772022-02-14T16:29:00.010+11:002022-02-15T16:30:24.166+11:00I Used to and Then I Didn't<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizAWwpgt0wPvDVTTFFWflCDRmH-WK34wZlXFpBzk2ii9WEKNNp31_DzNGhuULeEMBT98rsB4TnWb9Da2XTwwX_X7li4vtNw-kKx2EpJrlkNlqTplS3X-QNbao4M8H-Xu1O95dy47Z3fzS0hyOLl2kr-98t4hJVtg4yLe-F8Iqr25Vpqgf_DmCreH-P=s3024" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizAWwpgt0wPvDVTTFFWflCDRmH-WK34wZlXFpBzk2ii9WEKNNp31_DzNGhuULeEMBT98rsB4TnWb9Da2XTwwX_X7li4vtNw-kKx2EpJrlkNlqTplS3X-QNbao4M8H-Xu1O95dy47Z3fzS0hyOLl2kr-98t4hJVtg4yLe-F8Iqr25Vpqgf_DmCreH-P=w640-h640" width="640" /></a></div><p>Two of Wands: Each journey offers the possibility of a new experience. This card urges you to get out of your comfort zone because destiny is waiting.</p><p>It's been a while since I blogged regularly; it's been a really long while. I'm not even sure why I stopped doing it. Maybe it was the lack of drama in my life, something that was the result of knuckling down and doing some serious navel gazing, introspection and tough self-love to get rid of a truly awful habit of keeping people who brought more grief than joy in my life. I really don't know for sure but I do know I stopped writing, I stopped doing art to a very large extent and I changed career. I was still in writing but it was a little different.</p><p>It's not the only thing that's changed. </p><p>I have a long history with new age and spiritual beliefs, too long perhaps. I've walked a fine line between being rooted in science and believing not so much in the paranormal but in something larger and more mysterious than me. I've spent a lot of time looking for any evidence that would show me how some of this stuff works. I've also watched myself slowly but surely dismantle a carefully crafted belief system that was the basis for a recovery from domestic violence and abuse to arrive in a place where I'm more at peace with life just being...life. </p><p>I can see the value of believing in something larger than what us humans are, something more magical, and having faith in there being something after death because it brings comfort and a certain certainty. I've also watched the spiritual movement becoming closer aligned with conspiracy, wellness and a range of other super questionable things that I want nothing to do with. If spirituality and I found ourselves at a crossroad we choose different paths it seems.</p><p>I own an absurd number of tarot card decks for someone who doesn't actually believe that they work. I can categorically state that I have never had a reading I felt was spot on, and that most of more talented and 'accurate' intuitives, psychics and readers I've ever met have one thing in common: they're hyper-vigilant and very good at reading people because of, most of the time, childhood trauma. I don't believe that they're being guided by something mysterious that only some can tap into, and I totally reject that it's something we all can learn to tap into.</p><p>I don't believe there's a way to accurately tell the future. I'm wondering why we're so hellbent on knowing what will happen next - we live in relatively safe times despite the pandemic. I love my tarot decks because they use archetypical images that tell the story of what it is being human. I love seeing how this is interpreted differently through art. I have a fascination with how we see things and how the same things are seen through different eyes, and how we interpret it. Sometimes I lay down a spread from a tarot deck of choice to make me see something through different eyes; that's the best way I can describe they way I use my tarot readings now. I draw cards and occasionally when I have a question that I draw cards for more than once, and I get the same card or cards, I allow myself to perhaps frivolously believe that there may be a message in there for me.</p><p>Two of Wands, I'm allowing myself to step out of my comfort zone in more ways than one at the moment. Whether destiny awaits remains to be seen. Maybe I'll keep you posted.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-45543092773758405602019-10-26T08:21:00.000+11:002019-10-26T08:21:06.031+11:00Who Knows<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirBnpxjUWwyOylNHKIxS8nh_5Ff_nFKLsYd_wZp7bOxUSQWXmHghqaPXujktb-AhoVoD41AhfGlOUEkMU7-01muJ9CXbiuYFh4s-hNaadJgUwNYukOGD2haMH-K38KgKi0-34VXJTdRVM/s1600/Why.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirBnpxjUWwyOylNHKIxS8nh_5Ff_nFKLsYd_wZp7bOxUSQWXmHghqaPXujktb-AhoVoD41AhfGlOUEkMU7-01muJ9CXbiuYFh4s-hNaadJgUwNYukOGD2haMH-K38KgKi0-34VXJTdRVM/s640/Why.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Who knows how it all started and why but it's very much part of my life now, the reluctance to write. It's like all the exuberance and excitement I used to feel has slipped away in favour of a serious way of viewing my self-expression. It's a little ironic. I work in "proper" communications now, and with proper I mean not just with the short, choppy, bossy sentences of technical writing but with more flowery language and what not. I'm a "proper "comms person.<br />
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<h2>
But, as with all things it has to change. </h2>
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I'm applying for a role that is technical writing again and it's not just about wanting to get back to what I know, but also a longing for a stability I haven't had in years. I work in government but I contract and this time I'm hoping to snag myself a permanent job that I seriously, when I really dig deep and have a long hard think about it, I don't really know why I'm going after. Maybe there's a sense that it's the lead up to something else I can't quite see yet.<br />
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But right now it begs the questions, a more pressing question than why I'm looking to leave a tea that's like a family to me, a real family, to pursue another job. It begs the question why I'm back here writing in a blog I've not really touched for years. Why I'm circling back to have a look at a place on the interwebs where I seem to have allowed myself to write freely and not only because it was under the cover on anonymity.<br />
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This blog kept me going during a time I really struggled but when I read the posts I don't see the person I thought I was, I see someone very different, and I'm so glad I brought myself back here to have a bit of a squiz at what was going on here when I used to write all those posts.<br />
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<h2>
I still exist.</h2>
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I do still exist as the person who wants to keep writing here and just allow it to flow in whatever nonsensical way it falls out of my fingers onto the keyboard. When I moved house recently I got to set up a nice desk space again and it's probably contributed to me sitting here now. A room set aside for these kinds of things, where I can get in the mood and actually feel like I've walked into my creation space. It's not so much about what I'm surrounded by but about having the space set aside and the luxury of being able to do it. It's apparently really important to me.</div>
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<h2>
I don't know if I'm back here for good but I'm here now and it feels right. </h2>
Maybe this isn't another failed attempt at jumpstarting Spilling Ink so I can get the drive back to write for the sheer sake of it. It's a luxury, you know, being allowed just to create content with no real intention or purpose. To just sit there and allow thoughts to form and to feel your fingers dance across the keyboard ending up with a post is an enormous luxury and something that I've missed a lot.<br />
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Maybe it's the rebirth. Maybe it's just a tiny twitch of a singular post on a blog that that's been left to collect dust.<br />
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Who knows?Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-40704568690882989892018-11-26T18:30:00.003+11:002018-11-26T18:30:44.951+11:00I'm a Work in Progress<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzYP0ePIEsn1RkMJEfC5vCsVg5qevno6xLErvzFlR8CZVipyCRjnGyy_5MJMDEo9lRu1ip2YZh2Ui-no2cxmKc_wHtLguY7nseTTNmAcnk4QqVnfHx7s9gWjiRj9XYe04yXLTAZI3mCRc/s1600/meditation-1287207_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzYP0ePIEsn1RkMJEfC5vCsVg5qevno6xLErvzFlR8CZVipyCRjnGyy_5MJMDEo9lRu1ip2YZh2Ui-no2cxmKc_wHtLguY7nseTTNmAcnk4QqVnfHx7s9gWjiRj9XYe04yXLTAZI3mCRc/s640/meditation-1287207_1920.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I thought I had disappeared again but here I am, back in front of the computer banging out words on the keyboard not quite with the gusto of yesteryears but nonetheless, here I am.<br />
<br />
I miss writing. It's something that's fallen to the wayside for far too long. Maybe it was the fibromyalgia and its best friend fatigue that took away enough energy to curb what had always been an almost obsessive need to write. The fibromyalgia took a lot from me but that's a story for another day.<br />
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<a name='more'></a>The stuff that used to fuel my posts were probably my annoyance at the world and other people. In the middle of being sick, and being in excruciating pain 24/7, I began to more and more spend time exploring spirituality. I've been into metaphysics and shamanism for well over two and a half decades, and it seemed harmless to delve even deeper when one was macraméd to the couch with Netflix as your only reliable companion. (Netflix both cares and doesn't care. She's always there for you and she doesn't care if you spend a lot of time clinging to her.) I now have a serious beef with what I call the 'love and lighters'.<br />
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It's easy when you suffer to begin to opt out of life and your own pain, even your own physical body, and start meditating religiously (pun intended) because it becomes a sort of spiritual bypass, There are plenty of people out there that will support something like that because it somehow makes you special, but what it doesn't do is allow you to deal with your condition. When you eventually snap out of it and realise that in order to get better you need to connect with your body again, you have lost its phone number and when you finally manage to get in touch with it, you realise that it's blocked you on basically all levels. It becomes hard work and you end up spending a lot of time apoligising to it for abandoning it in the vain hope that it will trust you again and you can rebuild the relationship.<br />
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It's a work in progress.<br />
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In the meantime I have mentally become allergic to people offering me healings and especially to those who offer to send love and light. I just want to smack them down with the biggest angel of fury bat I can find because I'm hoping, I really am, that they will wake the hell up.<br />
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Another thing you become very well acquainted with when you suffer from a chronic condition is the need to hide it. You have to because if you don't every man, woman and child in the Universe begins to tell you how you can get better.<br />
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Have you tried eating vegetables and going vegan?<br />
<br />
Have you tried eating more meat?<br />
<br />
Have you tried apple cider vinegar?<br />
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Have you tried yoga?<br />
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Have you seen a doctor? (This is where I break under the interrogation. I have to firmly grip the nearest piece of furniture to prevent myself from flying across the room like a bat out of hell screaming like a banshee "THANK YOU FOR THAT PIECE OF BRILLIANT ADVICE! IT JUST NEVER OCCURRED TO ME TO SEE A DOCTOR WHILE I WAS DESPERATELY ILL!")<br />
<br />
I don't know if it's just me or if this is actually a thing. Since the invention of the internet and search engines, everybody has become an expert on everything while being completely oblivious to the fact that everyone around them now also possess the incredible skill of Googling for information. They will happily dish out advice and information as though they're the only expert in their part of the world and they don't even care if it's true. They're like Jesus but with zero of the success rate in actually curing people.<br />
<br />
So, I'm back. I'm a little angry because I now dare to, again, embrace negative emotions as you should. it's good for you. If you don't believe me go Google it. I know you want to.<br />
<br />
I'm just saying.Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-7855170721044225522018-10-24T19:07:00.001+11:002018-10-24T19:07:48.216+11:00Movie Star<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
I don't think I've ever talked it here, my pathological fear of public speaking and how much I hate having my photo taken. Speaking in public rated up there with jumping out of a plane and the photos, yeah, nah, I'd rather not.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>It's over two years ago now that I forced myself to stand up in front of 40 of my closest colleagues at work to speak. It was a paragraph long talk, and intro to a bunch of other people talking, and I'm not being overly dramatic here, but I nearly died or at least tried to think of a way to fake my own death or at least a medical emergency to get out of it.<br />
<br />
Things changed dramatically after that. Those 30 seconds or whatever created a pathway into me actually recording a rap song (which was unfortunately lost so I have no proof of it ever happening) and also to becoming a lot more confident with people all around. Like, in my job I had no problem. Socially though, it was a different kettle of fish.<br />
<br />
Last week I had promised a Facebook post on shamanism and I had actually typed up almost 1000 words for it. I sat down and my computer and looked at the sheer volume of text and I wondered how it would look if I made a video instead...<br />
<br />
It became a 13 minute and 55 second video and while I had thought I would hate seeing it I actually watched in fascination. It wasn't just helpful because I had done it. I had a bit of cognisant dissonance going which I knew about. My own image of myself wasn't matching what other told me about me, especially friends. Watching myself there in the video made me see more of what they see and while it was hard to watch I kind of liked the person I saw in the video a lot more than I had liked the image I had of myself.<br />
<br />
I may not be a movie star but making the occasional, informational video with your iPhone may not be such a bad thing. I know it wasn't for me.Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-1261418468506390402018-10-22T05:10:00.000+11:002018-10-22T05:10:16.409+11:00The Serious Business of Being Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
So, we're back here, at least for this morning. I get up and I can't wait to write. I make my coffee to kick start the day and since I rearranged my room yesterday, I end up at my desk and computer instead of at the kitchen table.<br />
<br />
It's a return to times bygone. The keyboard is in front of me begging me to touch it, and so I start tapping on the keys, at first a little hesitant but then it starts to flow.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>Maybe I've missed it more than I care to believe, the typing out thoughts under the cloak of anonymity. Maybe when I stopped I lost a piece of myself, an important piece, that may be like losing a soul piece. I didn't lose my will to write and express myself, I somehow shut it down, made it business and stopped playing with it, became perfectionist about it instead of letting it flow and just be.<br />
<br />
There are two things in life I really love: coffee and writing. If I could find a good man there would be three things. Oh, my daughter Bee has her own category. I love her too much just to love her. She's an extension of me and like all parents I hope that she'll get to do and experience all the things I didn't get to.<br />
<br />
I try not to think about how I have to get ready for work soon. I'm in an agile office environment most of the time nowadays and it means I'm about to go to a large office with no assigned desk. You have to find our space for the day, or even part day. Today I will start in one office, go to a meeting in another, and go back to the first office again. It's its own kind of madness and I wonder how many employees we lose every day because they either get lost or just give up. I try to make my way to the smaller office out in the suburbs most of the time. There my boss has assigned me a desk, I have a cubicle, and I have marked my space with a fluffy animal and some crystal, just like one should when one has a desk of their own.<br />
<br />
It's time to shower, time to figure out what to wear and time to try to resist the urge to buy another large coffee on the way to work from the caffeine dealer close the train station.<br />
<br />
I wish it was Sunday, that's my fun day. Someone wrote a song about that because it's true.Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-79724392078758739492018-10-21T16:55:00.001+11:002021-06-28T11:00:56.682+10:00The Path Spiritual<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
I'm still finding it hard to find the peace to sit down and write. It's become a foreign process; it's become something weird.<br />
<br />
Writing used to be my main way of expressing myself but for some reason, in the past few years, it's become synonymous with work and not with an expressive and creative process.<br />
<br />
I have a fair idea how it got that way even if it doesn't really make sense to anyone else but me.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>I have a tendency to become obsessive about things that interest me. I like to take a subject and research the crap out of it. I like to learn everything there is about, then apply it any way I can to see how it works for, find other people who've had experiences with it and talk to them, and just generally collect as much data as I can about a subject.<br />
<br />
I did that with spirituality. I've been a witch for over two and half decades, and I've been a shamanic practitioner for almost two decades. I struggled to find likeminded people but for the past few years they've been popping up everywhere, and so I've made friends with quite few... and now I'm bloody exhausted.<br />
<br />
Spiritual people are well meaning and positive. Spiritual people are supportive and sweet. Spiritual people are full of all sorts of advice when you have a problem and they're not afraid to share it because they love to help. Spiritual people won't let you go until they have downloaded all their advice onto you, into you and all over you, lest you escape without a better clue of how to fix what ails you. It's hard to explain to spiritual people that sometimes you have to sit with your sad instead of trying to plaster a happy smile on while you flood it with love and light, and allow sparkly unicorn to step on until it's dead.<br />
<br />
You don't get to own the so called negative feelings when there are spiritual people in the house.<br />
<br />
Spiritual people have a cure for everything. Literally. Even death. You don't believe me? They will tell you that we live on after death ,and many of them will tell you that you reincarnate, and they will tell you of their past lives as proof, proof of death not being a terminal condition.<br />
<br />
I've arrived at a different destination. I've arrived at a place where I frequently use spiritual concepts to make sense of the world around me, but I look at them as frameworks because at the end of the day I have zero proof for any of it. Sure, I can get into an energy healing and really get with it, but I can't fully believe that it's 100% effective just like I can't believe that a pain killer cures a condition instead of just masking the pain.<br />
<br />
So, there's the dilemma, I as a seasoned witch and shaman can't buy into most of what the people I 'should' relate buys into and so I lack the kind of people I need to keep me in check. Let's face it, unchecked I go nuts into research and thinking and......<br />
<br />
Well, that wasn't so hard. As long as I get to whinge and whine I can apparently still knock out a few words.<br />
<br />
Wish me luck! Monday is looming and I have zero defence against it.Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-58213762069009911942018-10-15T19:33:00.001+11:002018-10-15T19:33:20.836+11:00I'm back, I am<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
It's been brewing for a while, the will to write, the need to spew my guts in the blog corner of the world. So, here I am, back again, but I'm a changed woman, or at least I think I am.<br />
<br />
Gone are the days of my nervous breakdown; that is after all where this thing started. I can barely remember what it felt like back then. The awful and complicated relationship with O, and everything else. I suspect life was harder back then. Everything seems a lot less complicated now, except for writing. Writing seems complicated. Writing seems like I haven't quite figured out who I am yet, like I'm waiting for form an opinion and to grow up.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>It feels foreign and strange to sit here at the keyboard expressing myself in a way that used to feel like it was second nature to me. Maybe it's because it was taken away from me for a while when I just didn't have the energy anymore to write at all. I had fibromyalgia, and I say 'had' because I refuse to let her have more of my life if I can avoid it. Fibromyalgia took all that was good and true I thought and most days she left me with only a couple of hours when I would have the energy to do anything at all. She silenced me, she sat me down on the couch and she made me pay attention only to me.<br />
<br />
She taught me everything I know about life. Well, that's not true but she did teach me to value life, and the life I had and the life I can have a lot more. She taught me that not matter how hard you push sometimes you can make things happen and the only option you have is to sit down and rest. She taught me to spend time with myself and to face my demons because there were no other choices. She taught me that what you see isn't always true.<br />
<br />
Most of all she taught me to never, ever give up because there's always a state that's at least a tiny bit better than the one you're in and it's always worth reaching for.<br />
<br />
So here we are and I'm making promises. I'm back and I'm aiming to write again. The world is in crisis and I need a place for my thoughts to hide. This is where we're building our secret cubby house.Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-31355689087255540502018-01-14T08:46:00.001+11:002018-01-14T10:37:50.565+11:00I'll be OK, just not today<br />
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<br />
<br />
My mother has Alzeheimer's. Over the course of six months I have watched from a distance how my mother seems to be disappearing bit by bit.<br />
<br />
I'm watching from a distance because I live in Australia and she lives in Sweden. I'm watching from a distance how my father and brother have tried to kind of cover it up. I though, realised that things were rapidly changing when there seemed to be gaps in how she remembered me, when her picture of me had become romanticized and sanitized, as though once the gaps in her memories started appearing she was filling them with more palatable "truths".<br />
<br />
I'm watching from a distance and my brother and father wants me to jump on a plane so I can see her before she dies, but I know, I know on the deepest soul and heart level, that she's not present anymore. At all.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>I have seen Alzheimers before. I have seen the gaps appearing. I have seen the confusion starting. The apologies for not remembering and the shame that inevitably comes with it. I have seen the aggression.<br />
<br />
What a horrible and unkind way to leave this life. Your mind decides to go before your physical being, leaving the shell behind for others to look at for traces of who once was.<br />
<br />
Odds are I won't be able to go home soon. Odds are I won't be able to see my mother before it's over. My fibromyalgia, my daughter's learning difficulties and the difficulties I have facing my family. We're not close, not by a long shot, and now I feel like they're looking at me to take the place of the matriarch who emotionally ruled our family for decades. I'm not looking to step up. I'm looking to step out.<br />
<br />
My own reaction to all of this has been surprising. I have cried for the first time in years. The sadness that has been sitting in the peripheral vision of my awareness, that I have been trying to figure out what it wants, has taken up residence in my chest and it regularly expands to extent it pushes tears out of my eyes when the pressure becomes too big to contain inside me. On the inside of me it wails, and rocks back and forth, and it grieves a familial relationship I never had and an acceptance I never got. I was on orphan I realized when I was in therapy a few years ago when I had the breakdown. I was brought up by wolves the therapist and I used to joke because the "person" I felt closest to growing up was our oversized Samoyed dog.<br />
<br />
I will never have the acceptance of my mother. I will not be able to tell her that I forgive her for being the way she was, her criticism of me, and that I understand why she was the way she was. I will never be brought home to rest in her arms and have her tell me that she is proud of me just because I'm me.<br />
<br />
I'll be OK, I always am except for today. I'll be OK, just not today.Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-28491639115911421082017-08-05T07:56:00.001+10:002017-08-05T14:54:49.186+10:00It's Day Something of my Radical Something-Something Project<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
You can't trust me. I set out on a new and shiny path and I don't follow through. I feel a little like that about my whole life at the moment but I do realize that it's mostly related to any creative endeavours I embark on. But, here's a "funny" fact about my radical self-love project:<br />
<br />
I well and truly followed through on it, I just stopped documenting it here, and in the new true Spilling Ink fashion I sat down and contemplated why.<br />
<br />
And, in the process of contemplating why, I found that there are more things I like about myself nowadays than there are things I don't. This came as quite a surprise to me but it was a good surprise, kind of like getting a Christmas present you had thought of but didn't think to wish for because it seemed a little too much of a stretch.<br />
<br />
Oh, my hair still kind of tops the list.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>In the process of wondering why (is it because of the bloody eclipse season like the spiritualists and the new agers say it is....) I realized that I had a lot of stuff to get rid, not only mentally and emotionally, but also materialistically. It's really time for me to shed a lot of the stuff I've collected and to try to make sense of what's left, and I mean across the board: spiritually, physically, mentally and emotionally.<br />
<br />
I've began a sort of transition into feeling incredibly proud of myself for bringing up quite the amazing young lady. I actually had a moment the other day when I was home sick and I watched a great movie, ended up thinking about how anything I had created so far and will ever create was going to be substandard and irrelevant. I message my most creative friend to tell him and his reply was simple and to the point: "Don't be a jerk. What about that kickarse kid that you not only spawned but also managed to bring up to be a decent and amazing human being?"<br />
<br />
He's right. That there, that right there is enough.<br />
<br />
There's something freeing about sitting on the verge of becoming menopausal and being close to claiming your crone title (an important phase for those of us who have played around in the metaphysical realms for decades). I realized a few weeks ago that there had been distinct phases in my life. I moved to Australia as a plucky 22-year old, got married and partied my way through my 20s as a way of coping with an extremely unhappy and abusive marriage. At age 31 I gave birth to my daughter, I became a mother, and I buckled down forging a career and set about not only bringing her up but also to create a safety net for my family financially. By the time my daughter legally became an adult I had worn myself out to the point I needed time out to heal what had become a serious physical ailment.<br />
<br />
It all makes sense to me now. I can see the path so clearly, and looking back at it it almost looks perfect, and it also explains why I feel so restless at the moment and why I can't quite buckle down with any of the things I set out to do.<br />
<br />
I've worked hard at setting myself up in my field of work and it meant that I could easily walk into a great job after my eight months off from work. I literally breezed into a job that is "perfect", where I have respect and in which I earn the same money as I did as a manager but with significantly less responsibility. I realize it's not luck but rather a position I worked hard to be in. I'm almost three months into it and I'm just not feeling the joy of the job though, and for the past week I've thought a lot about why.<br />
<br />
Did it come to easy to me? Yes, for sure but I don't think that's it.<br />
<br />
Do I miss managing people and making bigger decisions daily? Yes, but again, I don't think that's it.<br />
<br />
Do I find it tedious to do the actual writing part of technical documentation? Not really, I've always enjoyed being part of the actual authoring process.<br />
<br />
If it's not any of those things or anything vaguely related to that then what is it that makes me feel like this job may just be a temporary thing?<br />
<br />
I think that part of it is that this is a company in flux. Six months ago they shed a lot of people to make room for new people and new ways. I can feel the discord and I can feel the reluctance people have to make friends and establish relationships. Nowadays I actually want relationships with people and I want a tribe.<br />
<br />
I think another part of it is that I don't want to fight the "corporate" fight anymore. The jockeying for position is evident even in this small company and I don't think it's for me anymore. I want to create something more lasting and something that's more beneficial to people.<br />
<br />
I think that money and career is no longer the main objective for me. I'm looking for something else now. I feel like I've paid my dues and everything that I know and have learned now needs to have a more useful focus.<br />
<br />
I guess, in the end, while on the surface I look like an unorganized and unplanned mess there's some really heavy stuff going in the the deeper waters of my soul, and it's all about finding what's right for me in the next phase of my life.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's the crone phase or maybe it's what happens when you loosen the grip of two years of being in chronic pain. Maybe it's a combination of both. It probably doesn't matter because there's a part of me that want to celebrate this new state I'm moving into even though it lacks anything concrete to grab a hold of.<br />
<br />
Maybe something really great will come out of this.<br />
<br />
I'm just saying.<br />
<br />
<br />Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-7761938603869014482017-08-02T08:16:00.001+10:002017-08-02T08:18:00.830+10:00Perfectionism, Procrastination and Paralysis<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieyLNwCQFGb3HL06EPgHId8NZhFfdszHwwEttK2pnXV4QOZ31gARHPlP6xJl3HfywchzZ9b6AiCEFov1Gr-tyEfHzJZ4Y7SgJKLhT5gUe065dxT4R2d5anefSB2LZ0wJbPcj_-oF9OtRU/s1600/beach-193786_960_720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieyLNwCQFGb3HL06EPgHId8NZhFfdszHwwEttK2pnXV4QOZ31gARHPlP6xJl3HfywchzZ9b6AiCEFov1Gr-tyEfHzJZ4Y7SgJKLhT5gUe065dxT4R2d5anefSB2LZ0wJbPcj_-oF9OtRU/s640/beach-193786_960_720.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I managed six days of public self-love before I lost steam, public steam that is. I have a theory about why. Something in me has broken when it comes to the confidence I used to have about my writing and putting my thoughts out here on the interwebs. For the past one and half years I've actually judged what it is I'm doing and I've become a little perfectionistic about it.<br />
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Perfectionism leads to procrastination which leads to paralysis. This is a pretty common theme in my life and it has been for the past few years, even when I find something that I really, really want to do.<br />
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There's something broken inside of me, something that I'm currently in the process of healing, something that's making my own judgement of myself incredibly fascinating and visible to me. Coming out of a condition of chronic pain unmasked a lifetime of self-criticism that I quite frankly do not like.<br />
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I don't think I'm any worse than most people, and probably any of you, or that I'm more critical of myself than most, in fact I know I'm not. I'm just more honest about it with myself nowadays.<br />
<a name='more'></a>Sometimes I wonder if it's not the whole mindfulness meditation thing that's making me to do this. I've become quite the watcher of my own thoughts and while I still feel a lot of the feelings they bring up and while I still get stuck in that space, I'm beginning to understand more about what it is that's been holding me back, and more importantly, how many of my thoughts are not of my own making.<br />
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I have been programmed with a lot of beliefs about myself and like all of us I've fixated on the more negative thoughts.<br />
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Last week I sat down and decided on ten words/expressions that I want to use to describe myself. I didn't have to think hard; it happened one morning before going to work and it was a very quick process. The words that are now stuck in front of me on post-it notes on my computer screen are:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Healthy body, mind and heart</li>
<li>Vibrant</li>
<li>Sexy</li>
<li>Attractive</li>
<li>Successful</li>
<li>Beautiful</li>
<li>Welcoming</li>
<li>Calm</li>
<li>Wise</li>
<li>Friendly</li>
<li>Trusted</li>
</ul>
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I've struggled with some of these and I've to realize that it's not that I need proof that I am any of these, or at least not proof from any external source, but rather this is how I want to think of myself and feel about myself. It's a self-focus and it's how I want to feel when I interact with other people and when I go about my life.</div>
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If the six days of blogging about what I liked about myself taught me anything it's that there's a lot more I like about myself than I thought, but there are things that I want to feel about myself that are more important to me. </div>
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I will keep blogging about this but I won't make it a daily thing unless I feel the need or urge to. The self-love journey is still ongoing though, it's not stopped, and I hope that you decide to take it with me because I know you're out there reading this - I've checked the stats. :P</div>
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Take care all y'all and for the remainder of this week lay all your love on yourself.</div>
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I'm just saying.</div>
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P.S. I still like my hair. A lot.</div>
Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-48628115305588857782017-07-21T06:05:00.001+10:002017-08-02T07:10:31.124+10:00It's Day 6 of my Radical Self-Love Project<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-mJQIIAwFVM2t8hASeEzxaTnsj7AG0p3SaQtq7t8NgAn0s568_4SxUf0rLR7cOHrsDQXGblhBs7WnA039jBZ_ey1YyqHpPVp31LQrLjv57pn2Kx1KHmd95kN17zv32SkMCu8ozxSSLo/s1600/morning-2243465_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="853" data-original-width="1280" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-mJQIIAwFVM2t8hASeEzxaTnsj7AG0p3SaQtq7t8NgAn0s568_4SxUf0rLR7cOHrsDQXGblhBs7WnA039jBZ_ey1YyqHpPVp31LQrLjv57pn2Kx1KHmd95kN17zv32SkMCu8ozxSSLo/s640/morning-2243465_1280.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
We need a picture today. We really do.<br />
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It's day 6 and I woke up just before the alarm clock after a night of extremely poor sleep. Too many thoughts and too much wondering. I forgot about my resolve to meditate and I forgot that I go inwards for answers. I got scared and I felt powerless.<br />
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I think that this is probably a natural part of what I set out to do, a form of self-sabotage, a way for the subconscious to try to protect the beliefs it's put in place to protect me from getting hurt again. It wants me to forget about this and it thinks this is a stupid idea. Me being tired gives it more space to play. Me being tired makes me less able to fight against it taking back the ground I gained this week.<br />
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<a name='more'></a>But, I"m determined.<br />
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<h3>
Morning</h3>
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I like that I refuse to give up on this.<br />
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I like that I want to learn to love myself more and that I've set out on a journey to learn how to.<br />
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I like that there's a part of me that feels like rushing to my own aid when I feel like this.<br />
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I like that there's a part of me that feels like I could be loved by another.<br />
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I like that I allow myself to see that people like me.<br />
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And, the hair. I still like my hair. A lot.<br />
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<h3>
Evening</h3>
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A complete cop out this evening I'm afraid. I'm so tired all I can do is eat blueberry and cheese strudel, and simulate death. But, not to be a complete dodger of what I set out to do:</div>
<div>
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I like my hair.</div>
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I like how I handle things at work with people even when I feel like I'm about to have a nervous breakdown because I don't think I'll have their respect.</div>
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I like how I like machinery. A venture into the lab at work today was a total treat.</div>
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I like how I like myself more now than or maybe just noticing more what I like about myself.</div>
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I like that I am giving myself the opportunity to just jump straight into bed tonight and just sleep.</div>
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So little of it but it feels important. I'm just saying.</div>
Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-43900344342785512242017-07-20T06:01:00.001+10:002017-08-02T07:09:59.532+10:00It's Day 5 of my Radical Self-Love ProjectIt's too early to think or feel, or is it? I'm feeling a little sad on the inside today, like deep down inside. It's bubbling up and I kind of knew this would happen. As we move the smaller things that cover the deeper stuff up it tends to uncover the things that bubble away under the surface, the things we work hard at not having to deal with. These are the things that feed any addictive and destructive behaviours.<br />
<br />
I started noticing a change in what I wanted to eat just a couple of days ago. I'd got in to the habit of eating sweets, a sure sign that I feel insecure and anxious. Instead of wanting to eat I started to feel anxious, and I started to worry again, and when I started to feel those things I tried very hard to try to let them be there.<br />
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There are plenty of signs that my fears are unfounded. There's still plenty of room for my fears to play. This is a work in progress. This is a process.<br />
<a name='more'></a><h3>
Morning</h3>
For a little while now I have had a feeling that something that will freak me out a little but that will make me happy is going to happen. I have no clue what it is but there's a part of me that's looking forward to it. In the meantime I'm going to do my best not to be swept up on the lonely side of the sad today, and to allow myself to feel it and work through it.<br />
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So, this morning:<br />
<br />
I like that I'm willing to allow myself to be sad even if it's uncomfortable.<br />
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I like that I'm willing to think of myself as a success even if I'm lagging behind on some projects. I need to learn to not take on too much.<br />
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I like that I love myself enough to do this.<br />
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I like that I care enough about myself to pack a healthy lunch every day.<br />
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I like my hair. I just can't get enough of at the moment. It's not just the "fall back" fifth point that I add when I run out of things to like about me. I <i>really</i> like my hair.<br />
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Onwards into the day<br />
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<h3>
Evening</h3>
<div>
Amazingly tired this morning. Wonded out. Brainfried. Slow. I think it's just week nine of being back at work and it's starting to sink in. It's just a dip in form. I need to recharge. Early to bed with me tonight.</div>
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So without further ado:</div>
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I like that I'm hanging in there.</div>
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I like that I now at least consider the possibility of letting love into my life again.</div>
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I like that I've stopped craving sweets.</div>
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I like that I'm able to help people at work and that I'm able to teach them stuff that will make their work easier and better.</div>
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Oh, and I still like my hair. I'm just saying.</div>
Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-35326191489791580792017-07-19T06:00:00.002+10:002017-07-19T19:30:33.360+10:00It's Day 4 of my Radical Self-Love ProjectIt's day 4 of my radical self-love project and this morning I'm laughing a little at my using the word "radical". It's early days, it's baby steps, but just the fact that I'm concentrating on loving myself at all is a kind of radical rebellion against how I've been thinking and treating myself for the five decades I've been alive. Even after only three days I'm starting to pay better attention to how I treat myself and most definitely how I think about myself. While I've been eating well for the past year because of my fibromyalgia I can still improve and every time I put something in my I think about what it is, and it's not in that judgy wudgy way I used to. I feel a genuine need to eat what supports my body.<br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />
<h3>
Morning</h3>
I've been back at work for eight weeks and I find that I'm starting to get tired from it. I've started to sleep better at night which is great, but I have to watch that I don't get too involved in the work itself. I keep hearing my father's words from two days ago. "Taking a step back in position is a step forward if it means you suffer from less stress <i>especially</i> of you're earning the same money as you did as a manager. You're doing great." If you'd asked me before my birthday this year I would never had said that my father is a truly inspirational man but he is. I'm healing the relationship with him and I'm healing a family wound.<br />
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So here we go as I head into a new day:<br />
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I like that I can forgive myself and my father so we can grow closer.<br />
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I like that I decided to do this. It's early days but I think it will teach me a lot of good things.<br />
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I like that I want to take better care of myself and that I'm determined to love myself.<br />
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I like that I almost automatically stand up for people in the workplace.<br />
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I like that I smile a lot because it makes me feel better when people smile back at me.<br />
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And, this is a bonus one, I really like my hair!<br />
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<h3>
Evening</h3>
<div>
I'm truly conscious of having thrown up what sounds an awful lot like new age nonsense this morning. To quote myself, "I'm healing the relationship with him and I'm healing a family wound". I feel a little dirty but it does have a ring of truth to it.</div>
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I'm sleeping better suddenly but I'm also tired when I get home from work. It seems that settling into a routine with going back to work has happened, and that I can probably start relaxing a bit about fearing the whole getting sick again. I'm not quite at the stage where I feel adventurous again but it may just be heading that. Anyway, this evening I like this things about me:</div>
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I like my hair. Yep, it's back on top of the list.</div>
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I like that I feel a lot happier nowadays.</div>
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I like my sense of humour.</div>
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I like that I'm a friendly person and that I have pretty much got over my social anxiety.</div>
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I like that I don't fret over work anymore and that I have a bigger plan for my life than just my career.</div>
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I'd still like you to join me in this and let me know what you like about yourself. Go on! You know you want to! I'm just saying.</div>
Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-70881693454958508662017-07-18T06:06:00.001+10:002017-08-02T07:10:19.921+10:00It's Day 3 of my Radical Self-Love ProjectI dropped the ball yesterday. I didn't post at night yesterday. In my defence it was an act of self-love. As I got up to leave work my dad called (my landline is redirected to my mobile) and since I didn't want to talk to him while I was on the bus that became a conversation had later.<br />
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I like talking to my dad nowadays. We talk about happy memories and I realise just how much of an early feminist he was back in the 80s when I was a teen. I'm starting to see where the strong belief I have that I as a woman can do anything comes from. I didn't see it clearly before because my mum isn't like that at all.<br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />
<h3>
Morning</h3>
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I like my hair, no really, I love my hair.</div>
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I like that I can get excited about someone replying to a Facebook post on their timeline.</div>
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I like that my body is trying to get better after going back into pain again.</div>
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I like that I'm so good at my job.</div>
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I like that I want to like my body and that I'm working so hard on doing that.<br />
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<h3>
Evening</h3>
</div>
<div>
It's been a day of too many words. Too much editing documents and too much of tidying up what other people have written. My brain aches from it. I long to wax lyrically about things and I wonder about that person who's decided to switch to calling me by my real first name, not the middle name I use for convenience, publicly on Facebook. Last time someone did that they were trying a combination of sucking up to me and showing off. I don't think that's the case this time but I've spent a lot of time thinking about it today. Why? I guess I could ask but perhaps it's better left as a curious mystery.</div>
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I swing from really enjoying my new job to seeing it as somewhat of a deja vu drag in miniature form. Smaller company, a lot smaller, but the same insecurities surface in people and I just don't want to play with that anymore. I try to distance myself but I can't help getting involved where I can help. Yesterday I was in a focus group and I ended up saying what I knew people who have been there for years wanted to say but didn't dare. This morning one of them thanked me. I knew he felt like he'd been heard in a roundabout way.</div>
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So this evening,</div>
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I like that I'm outspoken especially when it helps others.</div>
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I like my sense of humour.</div>
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I like how I naturally fall into the mode of encouraging people.</div>
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I like how I got happy that someone acknowledged something I did weeks ago this morning.</div>
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I like my hair, I just can't get enough of it at the moment.</div>
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Have you thought about joining me yet? I would love to hear what you like about you. We could share. I'm just saying.</div>
Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-55917073087125351702017-07-17T07:06:00.001+10:002017-07-17T18:42:18.302+10:00It's Day 2 of my Radical Self-Love ProjectIt's amazing how hard this is already. I had decided that I wasn't going to pay any mind to what others think of me doing this, this is an anonymous blog after all, but I'm thinking about how self-indulgent this is and I'm wondering if I'm being a little narcissistic.<br />
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Never mind.<br />
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<h3>
Morning </h3>
It's Monday morning and the coffee has not kicked in yet. I've managed to have a laugh and joke (at his expense) with my intuitive mentor. I'm feeling ill prepared for Monday morning. I'm stuffing my face with scrambled eggs at the moment. But, today the things I like about me:<br />
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My hair, I still really like my hair. Wash, bend over and dry, and toss it around a bit. Today it shall be known as the Tossed Salad of Goldie Locks.<br />
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My knees, for being so kind that they barely hurt this morning despite the stair master crap I pulled yesterday.
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My thighs and calf muscles, for feeling like they got a good workout and dealing with it.<br />
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My eyes, for being extra piercing this morning. Woe unto any cranky bus drivers and difficult engineers this morning. They will be met by my baby blues and a smile, and they won't be able to fight my mighty.<br />
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My right big toe, for not being a jerk this morning after being generally sore for the last week, and being stubbed on a stone step yesterday but that is playing nice this morning.<br />
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Onwards! The day awaits! Happy Monday!Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-68514741089279108312017-07-16T06:06:00.003+10:002017-07-18T19:23:46.077+10:00It's Day 1 of my Radical Self-Love ProjectI said I would so I'm doing it. This is day one of my self-love project and it's not a very exciting post, I have to admit that. It's early days though, my friends, and I'm feeling terribly self-conscious doing this so please be patient. I'm just saying.<br />
<h3>
</h3>
<h3>
<br /></h3>
<h3>
Morning</h3>
It's 6a.m. Sunday and I've got up early to head to Palm Beach for what at this particular moment feels like a completely crazy reason. Yesterday I decided to do it because one, it's going to be sunny, two, we saw dolphins the last time we were there, and three, I want to finally walk up to the lighthouse (and this even though my knees hurt today).<br />
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<a name='more'></a>I've decided that this is how I'm going to try to work this:<br />
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I'm doing an entry in the morning when I wake up. I'm listing five things I like about me. I'm writing some sort of entry at night adding five more things I like about me plus whatever else comes to mind.<br />
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Today's mission is selfies because I'm truly traumatised by having my photo taken. It's part of my journey. Were it not for the fact that this blog is anonymous I would post them here but for now, not so much.<br />
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So, on with this morning's list of things I like about myself:<br />
<br />
I like my courage.<br />
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I like my creativity.<br />
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I like that my body is healing itself.<br />
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I like my hair being what it is, I'm starting to appreciate those blondes locks.<br />
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I like my knees for not giving me too much trouble anymore.<br />
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I'll see you tonight. Onwards into the day!<br />
<h3>
</h3>
<h3>
<br /></h3>
<h3>
Evening</h3>
<div>
<span style="color: black;">We made the trek to Palm Beach and I'm so glad we did. It was a glorious day out. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: black;">We walked to the lighthouse up on the head. It starts with a walk along the beach on either side of the headland, and then a choice of two paths. One is the smugglers path and the other is the.....other path. Of course I choose the smugglers paths with it's million steps. I'm starting to see now that staying home doing a million squats would have the same effect on my butt and knees but I wouldn't have got sunshine, fresh air and some really good tacos after. I'm going to pay for it; my knees will not be happy tomorrow but I walked and it was fun and we had a great day out. And, not a single selfie taken but there'll be more days.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: black;">I'm a little tired now so on with this evening's list of things I like about myself:</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I like my stubbornness.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I like my sense of humour.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I like my hair; I'm really liking my hair today.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I like my legs for taking my up all these steps because I know they wouldn't have a year ago.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #00000;">I like my determination to get fitter (I do really need to). </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0000000;">It's early days and this is making me feel a little weird but I will press on and hopefully not miss any days. In the meantime here's a picture of a palm beach, not the one I went to but what can you do?</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09IInO6wqutQL94a3pVcua_egoEloey1dZe_G_w448C-u8Ifu2-0yQzkxr-HeRkgoQhu7TdRHsChviyI0_2S6ikC8Obtp_NW7qsX9xP9aHscZIcRrysvsd0YvoReBSqGorqlZyf_BOsA/s1600/beach-1236581_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09IInO6wqutQL94a3pVcua_egoEloey1dZe_G_w448C-u8Ifu2-0yQzkxr-HeRkgoQhu7TdRHsChviyI0_2S6ikC8Obtp_NW7qsX9xP9aHscZIcRrysvsd0YvoReBSqGorqlZyf_BOsA/s640/beach-1236581_1920.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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P.S. Come walk with me on the journey of radical self love. Five things you love, like or are grateful for about yourself. Add them in the comments. I'm just saying.Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-65503627908403104522017-07-15T08:23:00.002+10:002017-07-15T10:53:51.987+10:00It's a Brand New Dawn, a Dawn of Self-Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0aAGsmsvzeYXPAqfjqP_NlHn01bKwFZ_9wlKV-_K_KSeZ_73371FdrBV3KNcN62DYvnNMTudBMXi6WOS7YYHL8VJq4SHjFHbkvmj8DvB0byRMeDV8rNVrx7E1J-5fLWwKAgJsHRh5YbY/s1600/self-confidence-2076799_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0aAGsmsvzeYXPAqfjqP_NlHn01bKwFZ_9wlKV-_K_KSeZ_73371FdrBV3KNcN62DYvnNMTudBMXi6WOS7YYHL8VJq4SHjFHbkvmj8DvB0byRMeDV8rNVrx7E1J-5fLWwKAgJsHRh5YbY/s640/self-confidence-2076799_1920.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I'm going to look like a right arse if I don't follow through on this one; I'm going to blog about self love and I'm choosing to do it here to keep myself accountable. My blogging track record in the past two years have been appalling and I have thought about killing off Spilling Ink many times, but I love my little blog so it's still here. It contains a record of part of my life's journey and I've found many times that it's good to go back and look at it to see how much has changed.<br />
<br />
Well, it's time for a bigger change and it's high time.<br />
<br />
For those of you who don't know, I have suffered with the symptoms of fibromyalgia for the past two years and the pain reached unmanageable levels almost a year ago. I quit my job in September 2016 to take care of myself and I didn't go back to work until end of May this year. Eight months in self-imposed exiles gives one a lot of time to think, and experiencing the first pain free day after years of chronic pain that you have learned to cope with is a real eye opener.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>The one thing that no one told me, in a sea of very helpful people giving me a lot of well meaning advice, is that beneath physical pain sits a nice thick layer of emotional dust that has been left unmanaged, and when the pain fog lifts that's what you're left with. That, and a brain that no longer understands pain the way it used to.<br />
<br />
I'm 50.<br />
<br />
I'm single.<br />
<br />
I'm overweight.<br />
<br />
I'm unfit.<br />
<br />
I'm walking around feeling a little like I'm a waste of space.<br />
<br />
I'm constantly wondering why people choose to hang around with me; I'm nothing special.<br />
<br />
I'm deal with a constant barrage of negative self-talk that is waging a war on all the proof thrown at me daily that I'm a more than worthy person.<br />
<br />
I've come to realise quite a few things.<br />
<br />
I'm 50 and I think I look old but people tell me constantly I look a lot younger. It doesn't matter what they tell me if I can't assimilate it and I still feel I look bad and old to the point that no one would find me attractive.<br />
<br />
I'm single and I can't see how anyone would want me but I get approached all the time, and I see women a less attractive with me (a contradiction right there - I feel unattractive but on some level I don't) have loving partners (so there must be something wrong with my personality.<br />
<br />
I'm overweight, yes, I am but I'm not much worse off than most women my age so in order to torture myself I wish I was looking like my skinny 22-year old self.<br />
<br />
I'm unfit, ah, well duh! I have spent two years hardly being able to walk to block mixed in with periods of being able to walk up to 10km. I'm not going to have the stamina of a marathon runner or a crossfit training body.<br />
<br />
I'm walking around feeling a little like I'm a waste of space but I have landed a great job, and I have made a lot of great friends especially in the past one and half years. People ask me for advice all the time and it helps them. I think the proof is in the pudding but I can't seem to get a part of me to accept it.<br />
<br />
I'm constantly wondering why people choose to hang around with me, I'm nothing special, but I know that I'm fun and entertaining, and that I make people feel good about themselves.<br />
<br />
I'm no better or no worse than your average person but in my own mind I'm a lot less acceptable and I'm not unique in feeling this way. In fact, I spent an hour in a car last night going to meet friends at a pub for a friend's birthday, and we talked a lot about it, a lot, so I've decided to start dealing with it for my own sake and for her sake. I'm beginning the work on learning to love myself today and I'm documenting it here, and I'm going to try my very best to post something every day.<br />
<br />
This is my journey.<br />
<br />
This is every damned self-indulgent thing I'll do to make peace with myself.<br />
<br />
This is hard and I feel stupid about it already, but wait for it, I deserve to be loved and I deserve to give myself the opportunity to be loved.<br />
<br />
Stay with me. Take this journey with me. We all need to be loved.<br />
<br />
I'm just saying.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-12251272042314918492017-06-12T17:24:00.002+10:002017-06-12T17:27:10.643+10:00On Pain and Dolphins<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
The last few weeks have been weird. It's not just that I went back to work after eight months taking time off work; that part is strange enough.<br />
<br />
Just the fact that I have barely written at all during that time and now I'm back here but also have another project starting up, a project that's more on the spiritual side and where I get to write more about the healing arts. This here is my place of anonymity where I can let loose and not be as cautious. about what I say and how it comes out.<br />
<br />
So, I'm back writing and it's great, but a huge part of me feels like it's living in the postwar devastation of the Great War on Fibromyalgia. That part of me is nothing if not a tad dramatic.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>I went to see my holistic chiropractor last week. She's been instrumental in getting my back on track and while we know I'm not out of the woods yet we are tentatively celebrating me having my life back at least to some extent. I like to refer to my body as the "Temple Ruins" and I don't dare to say it in front of her. It would alarm her.<br />
<br />
I thought that being pain free was the holy grail but as it turns out when you've been in pain for a long time you brain goes to some trouble to rewire things. My senses are heightened due to having to 'shout' through excruciating pain so everything seems loud, hard and pointy. A gentle touch registers as an assault on my body, soft cotton clothes scrape my skin like wearable cheese graters and smells enter my nose just so they can punch me in the sinuses it seems. The whole world is shouting at me. including the f***ing cricket that's going to the trouble of playing little song for me while I'm writing this.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I welcome the pain when it comes back and my joints start to creak and the muscles start to spasm again, I can't lie to you about that.<br />
<br />
When I was at the chiropractor she decided to realign something in my pelvic floor. Whole muscle groups in my body have kind of wasted away and the pelvic floor muscles have joined in with the knees muscles to be one of the worst areas in my body. We're starting from scratch here. Anyway, the chiropractor used an instrument to knock on the pelvic bone and she warned me it would hurt. She knocked it, looked at me and said "Oops that didn't work" and did it again. This is when we both realised how warped my sense of pain has become. Any pain that doesn't register as pain that will render me immobile or is a direct threat to my life is largely ignored. It registers but I just don't shy away from it, I don't even flinched. My chiropractor was both a little alarmed and fascinated by it. Both of us are waiting to see how long it will take for the brain to rewire itself again to respond normally.<br />
<br />
It made me think though about how fantastic our brain and our mind is when it comes to coping with suffering and how used we can get to it. That in itself explains why it took so long before the fibromyalgia pain actually made me stop. That in itself explains why people can get so used to pain that in the end it's the only sensation their brain understand so they use it to feel pleasure.<br />
<br />
It's a weird topic but it has me thinking. You see it so often, that thing that happens when people you think should be doing something just refuse to change even when you think they should be fighting for the chance to.<br />
<br />
It's a bit of a morbid topic, I know. Just couldn't really muster and upbeat post especially not since I have been without internet for four days until this morning. The fixing of the ancient copper wire that powers our telephone network took a turn for the worst and shut down our whole neighbourhood. It felt like a disaster but in the end there are ways to get movies playing on your Apple TV and to hotspots your computer so you can quickly check e-mails, etc. We survived it and we left the house, headed for one of the most famous beaches in Sydney (where they film Home and Away a program I have never watched) and where I found myself seeing dolphins for the first time in my life. I can tick that off the bucket list! There they were frolicking in the surf only meters away from surfers, tossing seaweed around just for funsies. Despite a dismal, rainy day the trip was totally worth.<br />
<br />
Sometimes you just have to take the good with the bad you know and things turn out real well in the end.<br />
<br />
I'm just saying.Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-25431844458301026812017-06-04T12:17:00.001+10:002017-07-15T10:57:35.594+10:00On Being Cranky and Trying to ManifestI'm just not a happy camper today. I went back to work two weeks ago and it's a great job. I was feeling a lot better after doing a lot of recovery from the (stupid) fibromyalgia (crap) I've been dealing with. I was (almost) feeling grateful until I woke up yesterday morning realising I could barely move. I had somehow managed to throw my back out during the night and since it happened while I was sleeping there was nothing or no one else to blame but myself or my stupid body.<br />
<br />
I spent the whole day yesterday with a tens machine strapped to my back watching survival programs on YouTube because nothing cheers me up like watching macho guys eat scorpions and raw snake. It's a survival strategy of my own that I have perfected throughout the time my fribromyalgia was kicking my butt.<br />
<br />
Did I mention I'm not a happy camper today?<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a>I had my heart set on writing this weekend. I have project I started for an intuitive coaching site. I was going to sit down to empty my mind of the extreme wisdom it contains onto this site, a site a very lovely friend of mine insisted on coming over to help me set up. I know he did it to make me feel slightly obligated to actually do something with that part of my life. I'm a little mad at him now for knowing that that kind of thing works awesomely well with me. I literally feel obligated to work on that site. You could be forgiven to think that it's a bad thing the way I'm talking about it here and now but it's really good. I'm finally going to get this done and it's largely because of his trickiness and wily manipulation of me.<br />
<br />
It's not the pain in my back that has me so cranky; it's the being stopped in my tracks again, the being forced to sit down and take it easy. After eight months of doing just that I feel a little like I should be able to take the world by storm and just power through basically anything. I feel like I should be like a female version of the Rock except not as obsessed with training and diet but still equally and amazingly fit, and oozing of wholesome positivity. Oh, and blonder. A lot blonder and paler. But, still the same age range kind of and still as amazingly fit and positive.<br />
<br />
The truth is that I'm not.<br />
<br />
I have become incredibly adept at handling pain and to the point that any pain that is not threatening to stop me from getting up and moving or that's not chronic just don't register properly. I've been assured this is part of having been on chronic pain and that my brain will rewire itself again to become normal with the way it handles pain response. Go ahead I say, mainstream if that's what you want, brain, but in the meantime could you please concentrate a bigger part of your process on making sure I don't get hurt again. It's important to me. I'm just saying.<br />
<br />
But, here's another things that's really bothering me with this. Being cranky that is. I've been looking into what's been working for me in the past few years. I've been looking at how I've been setting goals and how they have or haven't been achieved. I've been looking at how my wishes and wants have manifested, at what rate and how accurately. I've realised that I've had some brilliant results in some areas and in others while I've not gone backwards I've not made a lot of progress either. I've been doing a lot of thinking about self-sabotage and how I deal with my own beliefs in how good I am at achieving something.<br />
<br />
A real eye-opener to me was when I started to think about going back to work and worried about how marketable my skills were, and then ending up with three job offers on the table with two of them being jobs I didn't even apply for. I have a very strong belief in my skills as a technical writer and manager so I don't struggle at all it seems with getting what I want there. I feels so grateful for that but I realise that I have to have a look at how I can apply that to other areas of my life.<br />
<br />
Feeling a little better having written this and that's a good thing. Getting to a better mental place is important. I have scoured a lot of my old journals of late and I've realised that I've spent a lot of time whining while offering myself very little solution. So, this here, moving from utter cranky to feeling a little more upbeat and a little more solution focused is what I have discovered to be one of the key things to getting closer to achieving your goals and manifesting stuff you want.<br />
<br />
You should try it if you're not already.<br />
<br />
I'm just saying.<br />
<br />
<br />Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-65652505148659151462017-05-05T06:20:00.002+10:002017-05-07T17:09:20.655+10:00When the New Age Movement Grows UpI was in an interview yesterday afternoon for a part time copywriter job. After seven months of "couch surfing" (aka recovery or healing enough to integrate back into normal life) I've started thinking about becoming gainfully employed again. No sooner had the thought started to form, and no sooner had I started to worry about how to find a job, did a possible job offer appear from an ex-colleague of mine. And, no sooner had I began really entertaining the idea of taking that three month contract with her business than did another ex-colleague send me a job description for the part time copywriter job i interviewed for. If I get the copywriter job I will be effectively going from the engineering to PR/marketing (the other job makes me jump from engineering to HR/finance). To me it feels a little like defecting to the dark side (but the guys at the PR firm wear much cooler clothes and are a lot hipper - I have no clue what the HR peeps wear.)<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
It was during the interview that I was "forced" to explain why a career minded little freak such as I would be content to work only three days a week. I've sat on the interviewer's side of the table far more times than I have been interviewed so I know what it looks like when people try to explain away things, or make things sound better than they really are. I personally recommend sticking to the truth or at least some version of the truth. (While some interviewing managers come across as stupid most are not.)<br />
<br />
My truth is that the two days a week left over would be dedicated to setting up a small business/practice that's nudging the spiritual field. I can't remember how much I've actually rambled about new age and spirituality on this blog. (Maybe I need to read my own work but who does that?) While I've skirted and/or immersed myself in it the past two decades I am also very much at odds with the industry of utter tosh it has in part become. The rehashing and repackaging of concepts drive me a little crazy to be honest. While there are a lot of helpful practices about there's also a whole marketing machine driving the movement and where there is marketing there is also a lot of crap. (See how I will fit in soooo well with the new industry I'm attempting to enter with my job interview? No? That's right, I don't trust marketing because it's so powerful.)<br />
<br />
Anyway, I thought it was better to tell my interviewer, my impression was that she was a smart woman, that I would be attempting to set myself up as an intuitive coach and of course inevitable questions followed. Was I doing something really spiritual? No, too much woo woo. Was I doing life coaching? No, there's too many of them out there, it's a saturated area. Well, what was I doing then? I'm taking my empathic and intuitive skills and applying them to problem solving specifically around overcoming obstacles preventing people to reach goals or their potential. But, is it still a spiritual thing? Yes, but since some of spirituality is so woo woo, fluffy, undefined and plain out there, I want to make it grow up a bit and become more practical.<br />
<br />
I'm not saying I'm the person to make the new age movement take a long hard look at itself and make it mature but I'm saying I think it needs to. There's a lot of places in spirituality and especially the new age movement where you can hide with your own problems and pain, and just never ever get around to dealing with them. There are ready made excuses for behaviors and for not doing anything about your circumstances, for crazy and addictive behavior, for remaining detached and inflexible, and for being judgemental. You name it, and in the new age movement you can find reasons for changing and you can find reasons for not changing for everything and anything<br />
<br />
While I think that something like spirituality is a very personal concept I don't agree with pseudo-professionals serving up advice for how people should live their lives, and yet that's where I'm heading myself it seems, I do think there's a lot we need to take on board from it. We are heading towards the destruction of humanity and it seems to be all related to a worship of greed rather than a reverence for life itself. I think though that unless the new age movement repackages itself into something new that's more tangible, or it simply matures, it's not going to be the thing that helps us get there. While we all need a bit of hippy in us it's not where most people's minds are at as they are living in a perpetual fear of not making enough money to "make ends meet" because they are buried in a consumerist cycle.<br />
<br />
If I had my way we would concentrate more on people's emotional and spiritual health to kind of balance how we've concentrated so much on the material and intellectual aspects of our lives, but in order to do that we need to make the new age movement, and spirituality, about more than crystals, smudging and oracle cards. We need to make it grow up and mainstream.<br />
<br />
I would love to see a movement that actively encourages values that are more about the community and that are less commercial because at the moment we are still seeing a movement that is very much about money and profit. Instead of the movement being about revolutionizing our thinking and bringing more meaning into our lives, it has tried to fit itself into a commercial world and has corrupted itself in many. I think it needs to grow up and stand on its own two feet and become something completely new and bold. What that has to do with what I started this post with is anyone's guess but you know......<br />
<br />
I'm just saying.Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-41409779762868067892017-05-04T10:54:00.001+10:002017-05-07T19:33:00.913+10:00From bamboozled to........errr, finding your way back<span style="font-size: x-large;">“One of the saddest lessons of history is this: If we’ve been bamboozled
long enough, we tend to reject any evidence of the bamboozle. We’re no
longer interested in finding out the truth. The bamboozle has captured
us. It’s simply too painful to acknowledge, even to ourselves, that
we’ve been taken. Once you give a charlatan power over you, you almost
never get it back.”
</span><br />
Carl Sagan,
<span id="quote_book_link_17349">
The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark</span><br />
<br />
<span id="quote_book_link_17349">It's been a strange few days for me, actually the last few weeks have been filled by much strangeness brought about by change. I love change but I'm kind of used to being the one who sets it in motion. Seldom have I become so relaxed that I trust the Universe, or whatever or whoever is in charge controlling the chaos and randomness of our lives, with delivering anything that will in the slightest change me, my life or my circumstances.</span><br />
<span id="quote_book_link_17349"><br /></span>
<span id="quote_book_link_17349">My inner control freak seems to have given up and gone on some sort of extended break.</span><br />
<span id="quote_book_link_17349"></span><br />
<a name='more'></a>Maybe it's because I had to let go back in September when I quit my job, and maybe it's because I now realize that I was a lot sicker than I thought when I did.<br />
<span id="quote_book_link_17349"><br /></span>
<span id="quote_book_link_17349">Maybe it's the being sans responsibility for so long while having the relative luxury of being able to afford taking time off to get better even if it taxes that tiny wealth you have horded in case when you would need it, you know, like when you get sick and can't work or something,</span><br />
<span id="quote_book_link_17349"><br /></span>
<span id="quote_book_link_17349">Maybe it's the realization that in the end we actually have very little control and that it's the ability to roll with the punches, or your resilience as the psychologists like to call it, that matters the most.</span><br />
<span id="quote_book_link_17349"><br /></span>
<span id="quote_book_link_17349">Strip away the glossy that having a career and being someone "important", someone who controls at least part of the destiny of others and you're standing there strangely naked, and you have to somehow begin the work of redefining yourself all on your own.</span><br />
<br />
<span id="quote_book_link_17349">Today I'm staring down, maybe staring is a little too dramatic a word, never mind, the barrel of having an interview that's of the impromptu kind, for a role that I've actually never had before, that of a copywriter. I've always written a lot, with the exception of the past year for some reason, but when it comes to professional writing it's mostly been about technical writing. </span><br />
<br />
<span id="quote_book_link_17349">Technical writing is clean and should be void of the author's own voice and preference which is probably why I spent time blogging with such reckless abandon, seldom editing what it is that poured out from head onto the computer screen. I like the freedom it brings even though my musings are often littered with spelling and grammar mistakes, even confusion of words.</span><br />
<span id="quote_book_link_17349"><br /></span>
<span id="quote_book_link_17349">I seem to struggle to become really attached to outcome nowadays. There's a part of me that wants to make a good impression today especially since a friend has gone out on a line and recommended me for the job. There's a part of me though that's done a firm reality check and that knows full well it's a long shot. The industry is marketing and I have a solid background in engineering except for last year. Maybe I have become a little Buddhist and less attached as a result of hours spent on the couch doing nothing and being completely and utterly unproductive (unless you count recovering from the disease).</span><br />
<span id="quote_book_link_17349"><br /></span>
<span id="quote_book_link_17349">Part of me feels like the veil has lifted, hence the quote in the beginning of the post. I was a little bamboozled by having a career and the slight importance being in middle management gave me. In a way I'm glad it was taken away from me because as the quite says "</span><span style="font-size: small;">It’s simply too painful to acknowledge, even to ourselves, that
we’ve been taken", and I truly do believe that I had been taken in by it in a way, and at least to the point that I allowed my own health to suffer by not putting it first. There was an element of being a single mum needing to succeed to be financially secure, sure, but there's always an element with that is based on wanting to succeed just to see how far I can push.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">If I get the copywriter gig I will be working part time which should give me enough room not to think of careers and start getting involved in politics. It will also give me room plot and scheme to start my own venture, a side business as an intuitive coach and perhaps also empathy trainer. Sounds fluffy and vague? It's because it is but I'm fairly certain that I have something to teach people in this area.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">So, if you're still checking in with Spilling Ink keep me in your thoughts today as I reach out into the world of employment again firmly attempted to get the couch to give up custody of my behind. It's for a good cause; some money flowing in wouldn't go astray at this stage.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">I'm just saying.</span><br />
<span id="quote_book_link_17349"><br /></span>
<span id="quote_book_link_17349"><br /></span>
<span id="quote_book_link_17349"><br /></span>Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5808348031964469008.post-19273367154075701812017-04-19T13:00:00.000+10:002017-04-19T13:00:04.824+10:00Take careI've found my will to write again, at least momentarily, and while I pray (this is how grim it's become, I'm resorting to prayer) that it will last I've decided that I will only allow myself to hope a little. Just like I'm only hoping a little bit that I can restore some sort of nice look and feel to this blog after I applied a new theme, and then found that basically nothing works and I cannot find my way back to what once was.<br />
<br />
Bare with me, folks. I am trying my very best to integrate back into society. Baby steps.<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
I've not written anything since beginning of 2016 really. I've missed it. I've missed the effortless ranting and raving in posts, and I've missed expressing myself freely in writing. I had an incredibly tumultuous 2016 which contributed to my losing my will to write, and then I simply lost confidence in my own writing, something I'm still battling with to be honest.<br />
<br />
I started a new job beginning of 2016 after having worked for the previous company for 16 years. I went from being the queen of technical documentation in one company to being the quintessential deer in headlights in another. It didn't bother me much, I had expected it and I wanted it, but it does tend to drain your energy a bit.<br />
<br />
I would say that I was successful managing two promotions in my first five months there but I have to add that it's that kind of company. Big staff turnover and you either make it big or you get stuck. I was starting to make it big.<br />
<br />
The job itself was good was it not for a company culture that demanded business at all times. I would carry my laptop to back to back meetings all day just so I could keep up with the hundreds of e-mails I received every day, and then go home and answer more of them on my company phone. I had been hired, I thought, for my experience with changing processes and my department needed it badly, but the resistance to change and constant busyness left me feeling like I was getting nowhere at all. That's not a good thing for a person like. We like to get things moving.<br />
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And, then it happened. My fibromyalgia decided to put an end to it all, it decided to put me in my place and on my arse, and it made me care just about me. I left my high-paying, middle management job with the excellent advancement opportunities just so I could take care of me. Or, as Bee put it, "you've been taking care of me giving it 120% and you've been pouring yourself into your career giving it 120% and now it's time you give that 120% just to taking care of yourself". It's hard to argue with an 18-year-old using logic (especially when you're unwell).<br />
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Here I am, seven months later, still off work awaiting my recovery. I was willing to set aside three to six months to do this thing, to get healthy and to be back to normal. It was a little more complex than that in the end and it's not until now that I'm finally starting to gain some traction with this healing thing. Two years of chronic pain (and what was before that when the pain wasn't strong enough to actually keep me from doing all the things but when I was using a myriad of coping mechanisms to cope) had taken its toll on my body. I'm only now starting to find out how much muscle waste there has been and what it's like not to have nerves firing all the time causing pain and cramps. The thing is, you learn to live with it and it becomes your normal.<br />
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Back in January when I had my first completely pain free day since forever, I woke up thinking that I had lost feeling in my body because the normal pain "reporting in" from my body wasn't there. I panicked and it took me about half an hour to come to terms with that it's how it feels to be pain free. I spent half the day marveling at the opportunities now presented and the other half worrying about what it would be like when the pain came back again. The pain did come back but that day gave me hope that there could be an end to it but I was still exhausted, too exhausted to really do anything.<br />
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I've spent a lot of time wondering how I ended up with this my physical pain. There are times when I wonder if all the emotional pain I used to be in that wasn't dealt with somehow ended up in my body instead. There are times when I think that's pure bullshit. But, there's simply no real explanation for what's happened to me and I now don't actually look for and explanation to how it started, I'm looking for the solution and for ways to make myself feel better.<br />
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Eventually I am going to have to make a living but for now I will make the money last longer to give myself more time to become as healthy as I possibly can. I deserve it. If there's one thing I have learned since September it is that I deserve so much more than I have given myself. Being a miser with what you give yourself, how much time you devote to self care is akin to idiocy and there's no way to make that pay off in the end.<br />
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So, here I am making something new, taking care of me and doing the things, the things that need to be done to achieve that. Nothing more. Nothing less. Except hopefully this here writing.<br />
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Take care of yourselves! For your own sake.<br />
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I'm just saying.<br />
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<br />Spilling Inkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02427671883940188334noreply@blogger.com0