Phoenix Fights

"The only thing we have to fear is fear it'self – nameless, unreasoning, unjustified, terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance." Franklin D. Roosevelt. Fighting the FEAR, depression and BDP on a daily basis AND making my own bread. Bring it on 2014….


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TROLLY DOLLY

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As most of you know, I was blessed (or some might say, cursed) with a very sharp tongue which was seemingly tailor made to wound.

Not a very pleasant skill I know, but if it’s any consolation, as fellow vociferous looney tunes will know, we easily beat ourselves up as much, if not more, than we do our unfortunate adversaries.

Fact.

But maybe, just maybe, we shouldn’t be beating people up in the first place.  Even if they do deserve it.

Until lately, I’ve never been much of a Tweeter.  I’m anonymous on there too so can’t connect with real life friends, the people I really want to follow don’t say much of anything (probably because they have a life), so a lot of the time I find it quite boring.

Who cares if Jonathan Ross just had a bit of toast and marmalade for breakfast?

Not I, and I’ll read any old shit to pass time, so it bemuses me why normal busy people spend hour after hour on there.

Then one day all became clear when an annoying celebrity I ripped into acknowledged me.

I was strangely pleased and flattered, which is odd given that I can’t stand the man. Then the penny dropped.  In a world where you, everything you say or do tends to go unacknowledged and unappreciated (especially when you have mental health issues and/or lack in confidence), Twitter is the one place where you can make the famous/arrogant/entitled hear you whether they like it or not.

So, whilst I don’t do it all the time, every now and then, when someone pisses me off, something is unfair/unjust, someone is being a dick, I go on there and have my say.   For the most part, I do it with humour and a level of affection, but of late, my tweets have been more angry and accusary.

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Appropriate and justified you might say, when it comes to someone like Oscar Pistorius literally getting away with moider, Shrien Dewani attempting to follow suite, Donald Trump riding roughshod over anyone and everyone, and the heinous Katie Hopkins being, well, herself. But one day, I got all het up about a baking competition because some old dear took someone else’s ice cream out of the freezer, let it melt and didn’t say sorry!  What the absolute fuck is that all about?

Then, when it came to what happened on ‘Strictly Come Dancing’ last week, I started to turn, well, a bit trolly.  I know, I know, it sound so frigging stoopid, but this female dancer on it really gets my goat.

Let me also just say that joking apart, I am NOT a keyboard warrior.  Anyone that knows me would say that I would happily say what I write about anyone to their face.  And the police would probably be called.  But I digress….

So this dancer, Aliona won the competition three years ago, mainly down the the fact that she was paired up with someone young, hot and a professional performer.  That’s not to say they didn’t deserve the crown, but all of the professional dancers are amazing so she lucked out getting Harry that year.

The following year she got paired up with an adorable old TV presenter, Johnny Ball, someone of whom I loved to watch when I was little.  Aliona was visibly unimpressed but hey, you win some, you lose some, right?  However by the next show she was absent with an ‘injury’, leaving another dancer to tread the light fantastic with the old boy, who, no doubt hobbled by the disruption, performed poorly and was voted out first week.

Then in 2013 the BBC, clearly also suspecting foul play announced that she was leaving the show along with some other dancers.   But, instead of exiting quietly, dignity intact, she went apeshit, telling the press that she was being pushed out and did not know why. All this squawking seemed to work as, later that year she was back on the show and was paired up with legendary golfer Tony Jacklin.

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Had she learned her lesson?  Had she fuck.  Instead of looking after this national treasure, she concocted a ridiculous routine that showed off all his flaws, and that, along with the most ridiculous unflattering outfit I’ve ever seen, earned him the order of the boot in the first week. You could see the triumph in her eyes, and she barely bothered to feign disappointment as she trotted upstairs to rejoin the professional dancers.

This year, unbelievably, she returned again and was duly paired up with Masterchef presenter Gregg Wallace, who, it has to be said, was a veritable Chippendale compared with the other two, but was Modom content?

Hardly.  Whilst her face managed to hold it’s rictus grin, her eyes indicated that she’d rather take to the floor with an incontinent tramp. In a way I got that ‘cos I don’t like him much either, but tough titty sweetie, it’s your JOB to teach him!

You know you really hate someone when you hate them more than someone you really hate.  And I just hate that.

Ahem.

So much wasted energy…

So, seeing a pattern forming, I take to Twitsville and predict Mystic Meg style that poor old Gregg will be first off in week one.

And I was right. The curse of Aliona struck again. Not only that but it turns out that she was so cold and hostile to the poor sap that he was in tears and having panic attacks before his performance.  But she’s not all bad.  She did wait a whole 24 hours before retweeting hundreds of messages saying she shouldn’t have to dance with ‘old puddings’ anymore and begging for the BBC to give her someone hot and young to partner with next time.

Incensed by the unfairness of all this, I went after her on Twitter, telling the world about her evil strategy, how arrogant she was, and that she should be more kind and tolerant or leave, and when I was retweeted and supported, my stony little heart swelled with appreciation and self righteousness. Until I noticed some rather horrible, mocking carping little tweets nestling amongst my nice ones in my outbox….

Ah…..

Kind? Tolerant? Just like moi eh?

troll

Then I realised that I was using my boredom, hopelessness, anger and fear to vent at someone I didn’t know, to make me feel better, and whilst I wasn’t being horrendously cruel or threatening to shank her or anything, I was starting to morph into an ugly, bitter, ranting little troll, that crouched, snarling, snuffling and gibbering over her keyboard, just waiting for someone to trip trap over her hypocritical sensibilities so that she can ‘justifiably’ pounce and rip into them, laughing gleefully as they squirm and bleat with pain.

Who is this girl to me and what right do I have to demand that she loses her job?  What does she resonate in me that pushes my buttons?  Her youth and beauty?  Her arrogance?  Her ageism?  The fact that she gets away with moider?

Whatever it is, my fury is not about her, it’s about me and I have to stop launching myself at people and use that energy to sort my life out instead.

So I’ll stop.

Not totally though ;-)

Anyone with a piss taking gene as strong as mine would have to be made of stone not to join in the #askrobin campaign, someone has to support the underdogs of this world, and I can’t tell a lie, the Donald Trump/Fred & Rose West debacle and the resulting barrage of hilarious retweet requests made me snort tea all over my keyboard.

But when I get really ‘attack dog’ it’s time for me to turn this damn computer off, sit in a quiet place and find another way to vent my pain, before it envelops and poisons the world at large.

God, this self examination shit is hard.

Aliona, you’re a spoilt, disrespectful little cow, but you mean nothing to me or my world, therefore I will leave you alone from now on.

But if you pull the same stunt next year, you are toast bitch, you hear?

Namaste x


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WORLD MENTAL HEALTH DAY

quitter

But I am.

And that’s something.

Things have been tough of late people, and that gene that tells me to fuck up everything that might be good for me is biting down hard, but am ticking off my challenges again, hoping I’ll get some fucking idea re what I’m going to do moving forward, and praying things will change.

Soon.

My beloved Aunty C is back tomorrow and I have never needed her more.

Will post something more eloquent tomorrow, but in the meantime, keep on keepin’ on people

xx


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OPTIMISTIC MIX TRACK 18 – I DIDN’T KNOW MY OWN STRENGTH – Andrea Faustini (X Factor UK)

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Let’s get one thing straight, I never, ever watch the X Factor.

I don’t like the way the contestants are treated, I don’t like the way they rig the competition and, worst of all, I don’t like the way they take artists with genuine talent (well, about 50% of them anyway) and then mould them into tedious reality TV clones.

Then, when they’ve made their dosh and milked the person for all they’re worth, they cast them aside, and they end up touring Butlins, Pontins and working men’s clubs until they too get usurped by the next onslaught of ‘stars’, and their dreams are in tatters.

No. 25 my friends, No. 25.

Never change who you are for anyone.  Not even portly, puppet master Simon Cowell, the twisty, greedy bastard.

Andrea Faustini is currently in the final 6 for the boys category and ‘Judges Houses’ airs this weekend, and I have to say that I hope he doesn’t make it.

Because he’s just too good for that shower.

Listen to the above and you’ll hear why.

His voice, his conviction and this song inspired me this weekend and I hope it does the same for you, m’darlin’s.

I’m nearly broke, and at the mercy of some vindictive old bitch who hates me, I have to sell up and move to somewhere, I’m having to walk away from 2 years free therapy, I have no idea what my future holds and I’m afraid.

But guess what?

The only crumble is this house is a rhubarb and ginger one, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.

I did 8 of my challenges yesterday, and two of you have joined me so that’s gladdened my heart more than I can say.

Namaste and take care x


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31 DAY MENTAL HEALTH CHALLENGE

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OK folks, as I am struggling with a lot of stuff at the moment, I decided to set myself some aims and ambitions for this month, and it occurred to me that those of you who also have mental health issues, or any other shit that might be impinging on your life, wellbeing and happiness might like to join me, so I’ve compiled one of those monthly challenge thingys.

I loves a monthly challenge I does, but sometimes some of them are too ambitious for me, don’t apply to me and my lifestyle and/or some fill me with fear and guilt lest I miss a day, so whilst there are 31 aims/objectives, you/I don’t have do be doing all of them by November.

It’s more of a tick list for your day if you will with the aim to try as many as possible, and includes the basics, but also tools and activities that I’ve found useful in keeping my head above the murky waters to date.

So, I’ll go through them one by one, even though most seem self explanatory:

1. GET OUT OF BED (and STAY OUT!)

Easy huh? Well no, not for all of us. And although most of us have to leave our pit to, at the very least, use the loo of a morning, it’s sometimes only too tempting to dive back under the duvet, even when it’s not a dark day.  So if you can, it’s best to make a habit of making your bed straight away so that there’s less of a temptation to do so.  Then you can….

2. BATHE & CLEAN TEETH

Again some of you might be thinking ‘WTF?  Are you some kind of animal?’.

But for some of us, especially on dark days, are so full of self loathing and lethargy, we don’t think we are worth the effort of getting clean.  But there’s a reason for the belief that ‘cleanliness is next to Godliness’.  You just feel better after a freshen up.  So even if you’re going to crawl back to bed straight afterwards, have a soothing, fragrant bath and scrub your gnashes first and you’ll feel your spirits lift, if only but a millimetre.

3. GIVE IN (Especially for Dark Days)

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As mentioned above, if it’s a dark day and still all too much even after your soak in the tub, don’t sweat it.

That’s what your hibernate tokens are for!  I’ve put six on the sheet for you to tick off, but don’t worry if you go over that.  Whenever you really need to, just go back to bed, wait for the storm to pass, and don’t beat yourselves up about it, my lovelies.

4. MORNING PAGES

OK so I used to do ‘The Artists Way’ and one of the most useful take aways I got from it was to do what they call Morning Pages.  So, if you are able to resist hibernating, grab a notebook or a couple of sheets of A4, sit down in a quiet place and just scrawl down freeform anything that’s in your head.  Your worries, fears, too do list, there’s too much sugar in your tea, your urge for a big poo, whatever; whack it all down there and keep going until you’ve got nothing left to say.  It’s a great way to get everything out there, especially negative stuff, so your mind is clear for the day ahead.  Then if you still have time and the inclination…

5. 10 MINUTE MORNING MEDITATION

I always thought I was crap at meditating; and in a way, I am.  I twitch, i itch, I scratch, I fidget, my mind monkey’s go crazy and I count the minutes until someone speaks, the alarm goes off, or I yearn for an excuse to stop what I’m going and go do important shit.  Like watch ‘Judge Judy’ or something.

But here’s the thing; I did a class last week and went home afterwards, cussed myself out for wasting yet another hour of my life.  But that night, I slept the best I had for a long time.  So on some level, sitting in that hall with a load of Buddhists, a stiff back and cold butt and trying, definitely did something. So I’m going to persist. And let’s face it, it’s 10 minutes! What do you have to lose?  And if you like it, you can always do more :-)

6. (LET’S) GO OUTSIDE

I know, a lot of people have to go outside every day in order to go to work, get the kids to school, check up on their mum etc. but some of us don’t, in spite of George Michael’s enthusiastic little ditty.

And when you’re really down, you just can’t see the point of going for a ‘walk’ when you don’t need to.

Middle and upper class Brits have always kind of been down with going for walks, and tend to make you go along with them, just after you’ve had a massive Sunday lunch, which is incredibly uncomfortable and annoying.  Us working class proles are used to the more sensible option of hitting the sofa and watching a movie after a big meal.

That said, we’ll happily go for a walk TO the pub, have a huge lunch then enjoy a beer or two whilst kicking back in the beer garden (Summer) or on a knackered old sofa by a log fire (Winter), because at least theres some motivation there.

BUT the poshos have a point. Walking increases your fitness, fills your lungs with fresh air and speeds up your metabolism. So even if, like me, you don’t always have a reason to leave the house, do it anyway.  You can always come home afterwards.

7. EAT WELL

I have a history of food issues (surprise, surprise), and have done about a million stints of binge eating before the diet that always starts on Monday but in actuality never starts at all, then in come the ghosts of guilt, the demons of disgust and the, erm, satyrs of shame.  Sound familiar?

But maybe you don’t have anything like that, but eat too much because you like it, or live off ready meals, take aways and Pot Noodles, and worry not one jot?

But if you treat your body like you do your car and give it top quality food, it (and you) will perform better, so make an effort to get the good stuff like your five a day, oily fish, wholegrain carbs and seeds and pulses down you as a priory before eating any crap.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want you to tart labelling some food ‘good’ and other food ‘bad’.

That way madness lies.

If you want a burger, have one.  Ideally make your own or buy one from a street food market rather than Macca D’s, at least then it will be worth the calories. Have some good chocolate or a really great slice of home made cake every now and again, then the next day stick to the low fat/sugar/salt options to balance it out.

List your intake.  Not to beat yourself up about it, but as an exercise and see which days your energy slumps and which days you feel fine and learn what makes you feel good and what doesn’t.  I bet some of you discover that your cat/dog eats better than you do!

8. DRINK WATER

Water is amazing stuff, better and much cheaper than any high end moisturiser, the best antidote to cellulite and the best preventative to headaches and migraines, especially if you are on a shitload of meds like moi.

A lot of the time we mistake thirst for hunger. The next time you meander into the kitchen for a little sumptin’ sumptin’, ask yourself if you are really hungry.  Is your belly rumbling?  If not, it’s highly likely that you are thirsty, so give your body what it’s crying out for and clear the toxins out of your system in the bargain.

9. EXERCISE

I don’t exercise anything like as much as I should, especially as I know how much better it makes me feel (self loathing, self defeating biatch that I am) but if you can, find something you love, like or can just about bear to do, and you’ll reap the dividends in high energy, accelerated metabolism and a calmer disposition.

Weights are great if you are just longing to punch your boss out, walking totally works for the less physical amongst us (maybe get a pedometer and do the 10,000 steps thing) and dancing is totally life affirming for everyone.

Oh and yoga?  How could I forget about that?  Marvellous stuff and you can do it at home!

10. MINDFULNESS

This stuff is great, it’s kind of a way to tame the mind monkey’s by pulling your attention out of the dark clouds, coming back down to earth, being in the present moment and acknowledging what is actually going on with a level of acceptance, whilst not actually judging yourself for that reality.  Mindfulness is a big subject and Ruby Wax’s book ‘Sane New World: Taming the Mind’ is an excellent introduction to the practise and the way it can help you and steer you away from self defeating habits.

Simple example.  If you are at your desk working through lunch, devouring a Pret special, browsing t’internet and checking out your Facebook, whilst answering emails and fretting about your next meeting/argument with your girlfriend/next energy bill, and feel yourself going downhill, STOP.

Log out of your PC and take your lunch to the park. Focus on the trees, sunshine and happy chatter as you walk. Find a spot, sit down and totally focus on your sandwich and coffee and fully immerse yourself into the act of enjoying them.  Feel the warm wood of the park bench beneath your bum, listen to the birds, fucking breathe already and be present.  Then you have more chance of looking at your situation as it really is, and not your worst case scenario.

11. RANDOM ACTS OF KINDNESS

Sometimes, doing something sweet for someone else can completely lift your mood.

Note, I say your mood.  I am not going soft here, it’s a win/win scenario!

Giving the odd quid to a homeless person, helping someone carry a pram down the steps of the rush hour tube, paying someone’s bus fare when their Oyster card has run out can put the other person in a great mood, which hopefully they’ll pass onto someone else, who’ll do something nice for another person, perhaps even your boss, so when you get into the office that day, he might not be quite as big a dick as he normally is.

See how it works?  Like I say win/win. :-)

12. DO SOMETHING SCARY

God I feel like such a hypocrite writing this!  :-(

Essentially I procraste for England, especially when I have to do something scary. So instead of mithering, fretting and having mad dreams about it every night I’m going to try and bite the bullet and just do the scary stuff ASAP, then let the cards fall as they may.  If you’re like me, grasp the nettle and have a go too.

13. DO SOMETHING NURTURING

You feel awful/worthless/ugly/unappreciated/uncared for and you’re struggling to convince yourself that you are worthy of love from anyone.

So love yourself by doing something nice for yourself.

It doesn’t have to be expensive, and it’s better to think about what your treat should be instead of just mindlessly buying yet another pair of black boots.

Have a manicure or a massage.  Get yourself a bar of expensive (not that pricy compared to those boots) artisan chocolate and eat it slowly and mindfully with a mug of good coffee.  Grill some peaches and have them with greek yoghurt and maple syrup for breakfast.  Treat yourself to the latest book by your favourite author.  Bake yourself a loaf of good granary bread to have with home made soup.  Go to a football match with your mates.  Treat yourself to cut price tickets for a concert or exhibition. Little things can lift the spirits as much as big ones.

14. TALK TO SOMEONE

I can go days without talking to anyone if I let myself.

By ‘someone’ I mean someone you actually want to talk to, as opposed to spam callers, your bank manager or that bitch of a bus driver who won’t even give you eye contact of a morning.  A friend, a relative, a loved one, y’know?

For me, this can be one of the hardest challenges, as I’m so afraid of people picking up on my mood of thinking I’m going to be a burden to them.

But I’ll try if you do :-)

15. MEET WITH SOMEONE

As above but face to face.

EEEKKK!

16. PROTECT YOURSELF

Conversely, we all know that there are people out there who will tap into our shit and give it a bit of a stab with the sharp end of  their letter opener, purely for their own entertainment, because they are wankers and not worthy of the trust it takes for us to share our vulnerabilities and they will not respect your honesty or bravery.

Be sure to guard against such tosspots when you encounter them.  Hide your fears/hurt/doubts/weaknesses behind an impervious confident smile, show them nothing, and remind yourself that such individuals are probably more damaged than you if they can treat another human being with such poor regard.

And whenever possible, avoid them completely.  Who needs that shit in their life?

17. ARM YOURSELF

I do however, know that there are some people like this that you have to see every day, like a boss, family member or cruel spouse, and their shit does not let up.

If you are in this position, do what I was unable to do, and, on the surface, keep your cool.

Stay focussed and do not give them the opportunity of harming you.

If it’s a work colleague, do not trust them, do your share and then some, cover your ass every time so they have nothing to pull you up on.

If it’s a family member, treat them like a child.  Be kind and polite when they’re on form, and when they’re being dickhead, give them your most sympathetic/patronising ‘Oh dear…’ look and excuse yourself, even if it’s just to the next room, and compose yourself.

If it’s your partner, think about getting the fuck outta there, because no one should take that kind of shit from their husband or wife.  Easier said than done I know, but a bad marriage/relationship is the worst place to be for our kind.

18. TALK TO YOURSELF

I’m serious.  If you find yourself in a stressful or distressing situation, make an excuse, go somewhere quiet and ‘talk yourself down’ like you are on the ledge of a very tall building, preparing to jump.

You don’t have to say it out loud. But try and tap into your higher self and let them take over.

Say things like:

It’s OK, no one noticed you fluffed that slide on your presentation, they were too busy focussing on the good stuff!’

‘You’re safe, there’s no need to panic, we’ll wait here until the crowd disperses, then try and board a quieter train’, or 

‘Take no notice, she’s being a bitch because she’s threatened by you.  She doesn’t know that you’re in the loo freaking out.  Chill. Then we’ll put some fresh lipstick on, repair that eye make up and walk back to the table like a badass, OK?’

You’re essentially being your own in house counsellor.  Have a go.  it’s worked for me in the past.

19. GET SOME PHYSICAL CONTACT

Some of us have more physical contact then we ever really wanted, and then some, in the form of touchy feely men on the tube, snot nosed, screaming toddlers and overly sexually demanding partners, but some of us can go weeks without a cuddle.

And that’s hard.  Because as much as we may mentally dread someone being in our space, the human body needs touch, so try and get your quota somehow.

See family more often, lunch with ‘huggy’ friends and/or get yourself a pet.  I swear you’ll reap the benefits.

20. LIMIT SOCIAL MEDIA/TV

At the moment, much of my life takes place on the computer screen I’m currently staring at, but ‘It’s life Jim, but not as we should know it.’

Actually it’s no life at all.  It’s merely escapism, otherwise why would you feel so lonely?  Limit your internet time to 20 minute stints then turn it off, stop watching ‘Real Housewives’ and go out for lunch with a friend instead, Goddammit!

21. SAY “YES”

Oh Gawd, again, I am not good at this at all.

I bail all the time on social events, and as a result, I’m as lonely and isolated most of the time. Trouble is I’m crap at small talk, and unless I click with someone, I tend to long to go home 30 minutes into a party/dinner/Meet Up event because I get bored.

Naughty Sista!  Take it from me, it’s probably one of the most self defeating thing you can do, so say ‘Yes’ to stuff, even if you think you might regret it, and work through your boredom/anxiety/insecurity if you can. The only regrets I have are for not taking that chance and going out in the first place.

22. SAY “NO”

Are you one of those people who gets pressured into doing stuff because you’re afraid to say ‘No?’.  Usually by people who know they’re imposing but still do it because they know they can get away with it?

Fuck ‘em!

Next time they saunter up wearing a shit eating grin with their:

‘Hey can I borrow your brand new car to take my druggy buddies to Glastonbury as we can’t afford trains, don’t have a tend so need it to sleep in?’

‘Hi! Can you just keep an eye on little Igor for say, 8 hours, he’ll be no trouble, he’s nearly over that stomach bug, and is just coming out of his ‘screaming as if he’s being stabbed’ phase?’

Or ‘Sweetie, I’m just off to the rugby, you don’t mind entertaining my sour, humourless, whingy face-like-a-smacked-arse parents till I get back do you?

ZAMMO

Do a Zammo and just say NO!

Don’t get defensive, apologise or justify your decision.  Like Queeny says, ‘Never complain, never explain’ because you’ll just be giving them the opportunity to negotiate.  Just smile sweetly, utter that one syllable word and walk away to the sound of their jaw dropping to the ground.

Sweet!

23. DO NO HARM

Guess what?  I used to be a revenge freak.  If someone hurt, betrayed or shafted me, they’d be punished.  Either by my frosty silence, my cutting excoriating condemnation or even, once, I booked 10 early morning alarm calls in one night (I was young, OK?!) for an ex boyfriend.

:-)

Sorry.  That was not a good thing to do!  Well it was at the time, but us punishers perpetrate our own karma because as bad as we can be to others, it only pales into comparison of how vile we can be to ourselves.

Anger is destructive.  I am the living embodiment of that statement.  I was born angry and whilst it’s lessening all the time, I’ll probably be about 90 by the time all of it is out of my system. But nowadays I choose to try my very best not to lash out either to others or myself.

Be kind and leave the others to their fate and find a way to vent without hurting others.  You’ll definitely keep more friends that way!

24. TAKE YOUR SHIT

Because like it or not, shit is coming to you.

And it’s not because you’re a bad person, have done something wrong or deserve it.  It’s just that shit comes to us all.  We emotionally vulnerable types are just not that great in dealing with or accepting it.

i rather naively believed that the more I was in touch with myself, and the more I prayed and meditated that the shit would, OK, not stop plopping down, but maybe come down the size of rabbit droppings as opposed to huge slabs of elephant dung.

What. A. Fool.

I really didn’t get it.  These things don’t stop it blasting out, they just train us to be more accepting and complacent about it, so that no matter how vile and stinky it is, we have a choice and the opportunity to choose how much it disturbs our equilibrium.

So when you get hit by a massive metaphorical doody (or a real one, some neighbourhoods are like that) shake off the worst and find a way of getting the pain/disappointment/fear out of your system (see Exercise, Mindfulness, Do No Harm, Something Nurturing).

And maybe invest in a robust umbrella. ;-)

25. BE TRUE TO YOURSELF

You feel that people don’t like you, so you try and morph into what they want you to be so that you’ll be accepted?

Enough already.  God/Buddha/Allah/that Rabbit from Watership Down made you the marvellous, unique, individual creation that you are, so embrace your quirks and oddities and stay true to yourself and you’ll attract your true kinsmen instead of cringing in a field of boring, bleating sheep, terrified that you’ll be found out.

26. LIMIT/CUT OUT STIMULANTS

My darlings, people like us need drug taking, binge drinking, overeating, or a constant drip feed of black coffee like a frigging hole in the head, especially, as I said earlier, if you are on masses of medication

Plus such mood enhancers come with a price, and the comedown is hard enough for ordinary folk to bear, let alone us loonies.

Anything beyond a few wine gums or a coffee flavoured Walnut Whip should be avoided or used in moderation.  OK?

27. (ACCENTUATE) THE POSITIVES

Sometimes, even if you’ve had a crap day (or especially if you’ve had a crap day) and like me, you are prone to letting bad stuff take over and sully everything, it’s good to make a list of the nice things that happened and stuff that you are grateful for before hitting the sack.  They can be anything from getting a pay rise, to some hot girl smiling at you on the train, or bumping into an old mate, to having a good nights sleep, it not raining that morning or your flatmate leaving you half a pizza in the fridge when you get home. There’s always something to be grateful for if you look hard enough.

It’s also a good way to start the day, but I’d wait until you’ve had your first cup of tea/coffee first.

Just sayin’.

28. PLAN

Try and plan out a schedule for your week, as it will enable you to ensure that you’re not bogged down with just work and drudgery, or it will ensure that you have something to do if you don’t work and tend to hide from the world.  You might not always stick to your plan for that day, but if you’ve got your week mapped out with fun, nurturing, positive arrangements, you’ll be less likely to let it whizz past in a SSRI stupor of nothingness.

29. FORGIVE

Had an encounter with some total tosspot/bitch and you’re still seething about it?  Try not to let it disturb your rest.  Figure out their side, why they might be behaving like a complete twat, and you might actually start to feel sorry for them.  If that doesn’t work, you might want to put pen to paper and rant about them in your….

30. EVENING PAGES

Remember Morning Pages? Well I also do them before going to bed, especially if I have loads on my mind.  Somehow spilling out my troubles on paper before turning out the light somehow makes me feel as if I have shared them with someone and sometimes I even have a solution when I wake up.  Certainly worth a go I reckon. Then have another crack at Forgiving! ;-)

31. PRAYER/MEDITATION

You don’t have to be religious to pray you know.  If you don’t believe in a Higher Self, just use your prayer as a form of affirmation or to talk to your subconscious.  Share your troubles, your fears, your wishes for the future and see what happens.  Or, of course, you can meditate instead.

Easy, right? ;-)

OK, I know it’s not easy to do anything when you’re at your worst.

But if you print out the attachment, look at it every day and try and do as many as possible, then you’ve achieved something, by the very act of considering your options!

It goes without saying that I’d love for as many of you as possible to join me on this as I’d love your company and to share your stories, so please tag me in if you decide to have a go!

What the hell, in order to get the ball rolling I’m going to tag the first ten fellow sufferers I can find, starting now!

 

http://takingthemaskoff.com/

 

http://phoenixtherebirthofmylife.wordpress.com/

http://lifeinabind.com/

http://thebipolarbum.com/

http://marcimentalhealthmore.com/

http://dysthymiabree.com/

http://mrsbipolarity.com/

http://crazyaboutbipolar.wordpress.com/

http://battybeth108.wordpress.com/

http://momof3isnuts.wordpress.com/

Please have a go and share with others if you’ve a mind to.

I’ll be creating a nice certificate for you to have on your wall (don’t get too excited, OK?) when we’ve finished, and who knows, maybe this list will help you in the way that it’s helped me at times.

That said, no worries if you’d rather pass on this.

Good luck Mistas and Sistas! xx

http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Artists-Way-Discovering-Recovering/dp/0330343580/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1412154817&sr=8-1&keywords=the+artists+way 

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Sane-New-World-Taming-Mind/dp/1444755730

http://acanvasoftheminds.com/2014/01/07/blog-for-mental-health-2014/


10 Comments

YOUNG BPD WOMAN (Inspired by Maya Angelou)

Roanne-Program-Borderline-Personality-Disorder-BPD3

Pretty young women think they know my shit

I’m not cute, an old boot, gone down hill quite a bit

But the truth is much more,

Than I’d care to admit

I say

It’s in the storm in my heart,

The voice in my head,

That tells me I’m worthless,

And wish I were dead.

BPD woman

Unfortunately.

Old BDP woman,

That’s me.

I’d walk into a room

Just as cool as you please,

And to men I would seem

Just a cold hearted tease

But some would still come,

The hunter, the sleaze

I say,

‘Twas the ice in my eyes,

And the curl of my lip,

The putdown, the shutdown,

The jut of my hip

The terror I hid ‘neath the sarcastic quip

I was woman

Cynically.

Cynical woman,

That was me.

Those men themselves wondered

What they saw in me.

They tried so much

But did not touch

My cold dark mystery.

I tried not to show them,

I’d not have them see

I’d say,

‘It was mark of my father,   

The scorn of his son

The fearing, the jeering

At school, from that scum

You think you can touch me?

Well think again, chum’

I’m a woman

Impenetrably.

Impenetrable woman,

That’s me.

Now you understand

Why I live alone

No family to love me

No real sense of home

BDP girls when you read this

Please learn from my poem

I’m BPD woman

So solitary

Solitary woman

That’s no way to be

Girl, your enemy is not without, It’s within

Don’t make others suffer

It wasn’t their sin

Try not to reject love

Before it begin

I say…..

Raise your chin, flash a grin

Bathe the world with your smile

For the love of another

Can make life worthwhile

Swing those hips

Shake those tits

For all you are worth

And try to find joy

On this place we call earth

And when demons rise up

All howling en masse

Take shelter and know

That this too shall soon pass

And accept some support

From your woman or man

For to struggle alone

Was not part of God’s plan

I say…

It’s the light in your eyes

The strength in your heart

Your youth and your beauty

That’s only the start

Of all that you are and are willing to be

BDP woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal BDP woman,

That is thee.

Namaste little sistas xxxx


15 Comments

NOWHERE WOMAN

longform-original-7323-1411035821-21

I arranged to go to a party tonight.

Yay!

I bailed last minute.

Boo!

I’m lonely and beating myself up over my cowardice….but it would have taken so much effort to mingle with all the strangers.  Like Bernard Black from ‘Black Books’ (see above quote), I seem to be at my happiest when stewing at home in my own misery.

Plus, said the little voice in my head, what’s the point of socialising with these people when you’re not staying anyway?

Earlier in the day I met a friend for coffee.

‘I haven’t seen you for months!’ she squealed causing me to wince at her shrill enthusiasm ‘what have you been up to?’

I can’t remember what I answered.  I think I just lied through my teeth as the real answer was ‘I’m not exactly sure…every day seems like the last….are you 100% sure it’s September?  I could have sworn it was still June!’

And I had to explain my current situation and try and make it sound positive and exciting, but I don’t think I was fooling anyone.

‘So, I need to sell up and if all comes to plan I’ll move to a beautiful clapperboard cottage by the sea….but in all likely hood I’ll end up in the armpit of the UK in an ex council house next door to Mr & Mrs Asbo and their thirteen kids and pack of rabid Dobermans, but hey at least it will be mine!’

Shrieky looked as unsure as I feel.

‘How, erm, exciting, you must keep me posted!’  And scurried off lest my now tangible desperation was contagious, whilst I scurried off in the opposite direction to the safety of my lair.

I’ve always felt like a leaf carried along by the wind.

But never have the currents felt so stormy and unknown.

I’m tired of being that loser who everyone gossips about.

I always start so well, and seem so normal.  But it’s hard to maintain the act when you’re not working, not dating, not travelling and have just gobbled up over two years of your life without making anything of yourself.

It’s then that the penny drops and people realise that underneath your oh so plausible, pleasant veneer is nothing more that that, and that you’re about as substantial as a blow up doll.

How long will I be able to stay in this new place before I have to move on ‘cos I’ve been busted yet again?

Maybe I should just go into full hermit mode and buy a smallholding on the Outer Hebrides and stay at home with the cats and a couple of chickens and live off the land.

Knowing my luck though, fucking Donald Trump would probably rock up, build a whorehouse on top of my hen house, and cut off my water and kick me in the crotch for good measure.  Which would be unadvisable as I’d tear his fucking wig off for him…but I digress….

Bottom line is, I don’t know who I am, where I’m going to go and what I’m going to do.

And I’m so afraid.

I’m trying to be positive, but when you’re Nowhere Woman it’s like trailing your bricks and mortar around the desert, nowhere is safe and it’s not going to work.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK…..

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/beatles/nowhereman.html


7 Comments

OI OI!

greatest_show_on_legs

When you’re at rock bottom, teetering on the brink of ruin and/or homelessness, and on top of that, wake up with a knackered back, it’s funny where inspiration can be found.

Quite literally.

Today I deemed that it was totally pointless trying to do anything, as no matter how hard I try to be positive, the shit just keeps  splatting me in the face, so I decided to lie low, bar taking a stroll to hopefully loosen my injury.

I then got up, went to the loo and within seconds, managed to knock my last loo roll into the toilet with my elbow whilst flushing, the waters dousing it with cat litter, pee and poo.

Fuck the walk.

Clearly nothing was going to go my way today. I went back to bed and picked up my favourite read of the moment, ‘Becoming Johnny Vegas’ the memoirs of one of my favourite actor/comedians.

I love Johnny Vegas because he’s as funny as fuck but also a truly sensitive vulnerable soul, and I frequently fantasise that he’s my friend. I then read that Michael (JV’s real name) loved and hugely admired the self styled father of British Alternative Comedy, comedian, club owner and notorious prankster, a man by the name of Malcolm Hardee.

‘Hmm,’ thinks I, ‘I know that name’, and lever my wincing carcass back out of my pit, I go and Google him.

Of course!  That sarf London guy with the glasses who was in ‘The Greatest Show on Legs’ where he danced a precarious routine with two other geezers and some party balloons, invariably exposing his knob and an alarmingly pendulous set of balls by the end of the set. Intrigued I wanted to know more about this man who inspired such love in my hero, so I went on Wiki and was shocked to discover that Malcolm was actually dead.

Shit!  He can’t have been much older than me!  What did he die of?

Alcoholism?

Lung cancer, as he was never seen without a fag in his gob?

Or did he finally get a good kicking for peeing over one of the punters (another party piece) at his comedy club?

None of these things. Malcolm Hardee, absurdly, drowned in the Thames whilst travelling 50 yards in a dingy from his floating pub ‘The Wibbly Wobbly’ to his houseboat ‘The Sea Sovereign’ whilst pissed, and when they brought up his body he was still clutching a bottle of beer.

A fitting if untimely end, it seems. But this man clearly lived his life with gusto and inspired great love and affection in his peers and family for being unapologetically and unashamedly himself.

FuneralWreaths

As for his funeral, it was, according to one chap, ‘The best I’ve ever been to!’, attended by hundreds of comedy’s great and good, whom kept the banter/heckling going via some ‘bespoke’ floral tributes, propping his sailors hat and a life belt on his coffin (a bit ‘stable door’ methinks) and no doubt the chosen few, posthumously, took him down yet another peg or two at the wake.

It’s what he would have wanted.

But it was this eulogy by another great British comic Stewart Lee, paraphrasing Matthew 6 Verse 25-34 that struck the biggest chord with me.

For some reason I found it unbearably touching and came to the closest to weeping as I have since my post medication days.  Partly because it was the perfect tribute, partly because this man was so loved, and partly because Malcolm was clearly the perfect example of someone who lived without fear or worry.

He quite frankly did not give a fuck, and probably drove friends and family half mad with his impulsivity, mad criminal activity (he once stole Freddie Mercury’s 40th birthday cake), practical jokes, and sheer unadulterated irresponsibility (he apparently would take unwanted bills, tax claims etc. and fill them in as being ‘deceased’) and was as free as the birds of the air, if somewhat less than fragrant as the lilies of the field.

Of course that did not stop him dying young.  But would worrying about it have changed his final outcome?

Each day does indeed have enough trouble of it’s own.

I’ve finally come to realise that praying, meditating, cosmic fucking ordering et all is not going to stop the shit raining down on my head.  It certainly rained down on Malcolm both metaphorically and apparently in real life one day when he deliberately steered his boat under a stream of effluent spewing out of a pipe from a liner, covering himself and all of his friends/passengers with a stinky brown soup. But I digress.

The point I’m trying to make is that if shit is in my future, it’s going to happen.  I’ve just got to grow a pair of big pendulous Hardee stylee balls and be ready to face it head on with a chirpy ‘Oi, oi!’.

That said I’m never going to be one of the Malcolms of this world.  It’s not in my make up.  But if I try harder, get out there and make my mark, maybe I’ll be loved a least a fraction of the way that he was and still is AND have some fun along the way.

And that will be enough for me.

God surely does move in mysterious ways…. Namaste x

http://www.malcolmhardee.co.uk

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