Phoenix Fights

Fighting the FEAR, depression and BDP on a daily basis AND making my own bread. Bring it on 2016….


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yoga cats


I know most people had all of this stuff mapped out by 1st January, but I bet it was all of the usual stuff, e.g. lose weight, go to the gym, get a better job etc.

Whilst that kind of stuff is no doubt relevant to me too, I have a much bigger ask of 2013 than getting bikini fit and having more money.  I want it to make me want to stay, so I’ve taken the last six days or so to mull things over whilst scoffing the last of the Christmas cake with big mugs of tea.

Starting with the basics:


I’m sure if I could see you as a cartoon, you’d have a thought bubble with a big question mark floating above your head, but sometimes I don’t go out for days, unless you count putting the bins out, so I am going to make a fervent effort to leave the building Elvis style, even if it’s just to walk to the shops and back.  This will have the added benefit of the need to incorporate the next resolution, which is…..


What I mean by this is be in a state that I would be happy to answer the door in.  So, bathed, clean tidy hair, made up (at the very least a bit of lippy and mascara) wearing attire that I would walk down the street in.  By 9 a.m. latest.  Not after ‘Cash in the Attic’.  Which leads me onto…..


God I am so ashamed…..

Look, when you aren’t working, it tends to be the case that you have nowhere in particular to be, and few demands for your presence during the day, so it’s easy to sit down with tea and toast at 8 a.m. to watch the news, stay another hour or so for those ‘Great British Bake Off’ re-runs, then before you know it, some psychotic bitch masquerading as a Judge is shrieking at some poor rednecks, it’s getting dark outside, and you’ve started to develop bed sores.  Actually this should be STOP WATCHING TOO MUCH TV period as it is easier to watch pretend lives, reality TV and other mind numbing shite than focus on your own sorry state of affairs. So, in place of back to back ‘Celebrity Whatever’ I need to……


The amount of times I’ve bailed on friends because the voices in my head tell me I should (because I’m shit company, I’m too old, too ugly, I won’t like it, they don’t like me, it’s raining, blah, blah, blah) it’s amazing that I have any left.  I tend to think that they won’t care because of my aforementioned shortcomings, but they get pretty pissed off actually and in a lot of cases, stop inviting me anywhere, hence my current isolation. I also embark on courses, lessons, meet ups and invariably never follow anything through to completion.  Nothing will change  and I will stay exactly where I am unless I nail this one, and…..


So, you will have no doubt gathered that people like me aren’t always easy to be friends with.  We are super sensitive, so take anything that might be a slight as a deliberate body blow, cull people at the drop of a hat, feel excluded if we’re not invited to something, feel paranoid if our calls/texts aren’t answered in a matter of seconds and then are hugely unreliable ourselves.  I’ve avoided, fought with and rejected so many people out of self protection, sometimes justifiably but usually not, so need to find a way of handling my paranoia and emotions, cherish the friends who have stood by me and make new ones too.


I am one of those unusual people who actually likes certain forms of exercise as they require focus, quieten the voices in my head or help me vent my frustrations.  I recently discovered that I like hiking, martial arts and skating, but as soon as I realised this, I stopped doing them?!  Why?  I don’t know.  Maybe I think I don’t deserve to do them.

Sometimes when I’m at an amazing concert, a really exciting event, on holiday, or on a really nice flirty date, I inexplicably get the sudden urge to go home.  I must be the only person watching Mary J Blige and Chaka Khan duet (both of whom I love unreservedly) whilst simultaneously trying to remember the last train times home.  WTF?!!!  I can’t explain, I really can’t.

I also need to look at my diet, eat good stuff and not binge on shit and alcohol as much as I have recently (nothing to do with Christmas).  I’m an avid baker and no longer believe that any food in isolation is bad but I know a lot about nutrition so should know better than to abuse my body the way I do sometimes. Physically I have good genetics so why do I want to fuck that up when it take relatively little effort to maintain a good physique and good energy levels?  Pass.

What I will also focus on is my yoga and meditation.  My spirituality is one of the only constants in my life and if nothing else, I will make a super human effort not to neglect these any more.


Again when you aren’t working you can end up staying up till the wee hours, doing whatever and I need to commit to being in bed by midnight latest.

By alone, I mean cat-less.

My boys have been such a comfort to me over the last 2 years and it’s been nice to have them sleep on my bed. What’s not nice is when they disturb my sleep, which is getting to be a rather regular occurrence.  Charlie will wake up after a couple of hours, realise I’m there and greet me like a long lost friend with much purring, butting and climbing all over me, scratching the bedding to get my attention.  How can a be cross with a kitty that loves me so?

Dexter however gets bored and torments me with a game he invented by scratching my beautiful bed frame on one side, so that I flail at him with my arms, mumbling to make him stop.  He then waits until I’ve nearly nodded off again before running the other side and doing the same. This can go on for hours with me thrashing around like I’m fitting and Dex purring with delight, the little bastard.

The final straw was last night when one of them fell asleep on my head and I woke up thinking I’d had a stroke.  NO MORE.

Anyway, there may come a day when a male of my own species wants to share my clawed, shredded mattress so I had better get them prepared for that.  As I type this paragraph, I smile grimly as this leads onto the task of……


And here we have it.  As much as I know how having a significant other would enhance my life and bring me some kind of peace, it’s the biggest challenge of all.

I sometimes ask myself why God made us attracted to the people who are bad for us and utterly indifferent to those who would enhance our lives.  It seems like some kind of cruel joke, but at least I’m not the only target.

I also have major trust issues around men, as I didn’t have very positive male role models when I was growing up, and I think every man that looks at me is out to get me in some way shape or form.  He must be a liar, cheat, opportunist, mass murderer etc., and because I’m so ugly and desperate for a boyfriend, he plans to con me into loving him, then I will dote on him, and he will milk me of everything he can, sucking me dry till he falls away from me, bloated, red and tick like, whilst I float away, a desiccated, shrivelled, leafy husk.

Shit. Where the fuck did that come from?

Another fly in the ointment is I don’t fancy many guys my own age.  I don’t choose to feel that way, but it’s by the by as they certainly wouldn’t consider me girlfriend material anyway. There was some research done a couple of years ago that stated that men felt that they were entitled to someone at least 14 years younger than them, which goes a long way to explaining Greg Wallace’s attitude to women.  So, essentially I’ll be lucky to get someone of 64. :-s

And please don’t suggest a toy boy; I hate my reflection in the mirror of a morning enough already without seeing someone with peachier skin than me sharing it whilst trying to shave (him not me).

I’m really trying to be positive about this one, but surely you see my point?

Maybe I should just settle for sex if I can garner some enthusiasm, before my fanny gives up in disgust and seals itself shut.  Which leads nicely to…..


This is a feng shui thing (I kid you not) that says if you wear nice lingerie you will feel sexier and that will put out positive vibes to any passing male who will know of your frilly wearing and immediately cleave to your side. Seriously.

I do have a drawfull of nice undies but the problem is, I don’t wear them.  I wear flesh coloured t-shirt bras and nice M&S apple catchers. Even a 64 year old would run screaming from them.  But they are practical, comfortable and to date I haven’t been able to be bothered to wear the sexy stuff just on the off chance that some bloke at the bus stop might be able to detect them and get all fired up.  That said, I will experiment and report back.

All of these should eventually lead to my being able to…..


Hmmm.  Good luck 2013, you’re certainly going to need it.


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