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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It’s a couple of days since I came in from my neighbours hammered, and posted my somewhat  basic New Year resolutions, but I am now sober and have some more, erm, conventional aims to add.


Last year, had I been in this position, I would probably be freaking and calling this entry GET A JOB, ANY JOB, but I am surprisingly serene which is no doubt courtesy of my meds. That said I have bills to pay so do need to work again, but I do want to aim high in 2013 and not end up back in the same industry or doing something that takes its toll on my heath again.  Having a roof over your head is all very well, but at the pinnacle of my crisis last year, a hurricane could have swept it away without my even noticing.  My aim is to earn a crust by doing something (or a number of things) that I love, that I am challenged by and ideally I want to be captain of my own ship.  Worst case scenario I will get something conventional but it will be (a) temporary, (b) not burdened with ridiculous levels of responsibility and (c) not for a company infested with tossers.  And anyone who even tries to treat me the way that pock marked, pot bellied, ginger twat did last year will be furnished with a new, ragged, much-larger-than-original anus courtesy of yours truly and my supercharged hand blender.

Nuff said.


I used to hate my little flat, but in the last six months I have been grateful for its sanctuary, and have worked hard to update it, and now get significant pleasure whenever I put my key in the door.

That said, I have always wanted a little cottage, ideally near the sea, with a dining room and a little garden for my cats, and I don’t want to lose sight of this dream, so I will be keeping my eyes and ears open for any opportunity to move (says the unemployed 50 year old…).

Nothing wrong with aiming high!


Dancing is something that has always given me joy.  I clubbed for years until I was too old, then I jived. This was then superseded by salsa but it gets to the stage where you get tired being groped and/or having your neck put out by over enthusiastic pervs/showboaters, and as for being perpetually soaked through with other people’s musk, that has a very short shelf life indeed, and since then I have had no alternative outlet.

So my plan is to have ballroom lessons, so that I can ease into old age gracefully, wear nice frocks, be treated like a lady and go to events where they serve cake and there is not a drop of sweat in sight.

Win/win innit?


This, I’m sure you’ve figured out, is not about money, status or fast cars.

I never really push to succeed in anything and I’ve always told myself that the reason that I’m not ambitious is that I’m a spiritual, non mercenary type of chick, man, who doesn’t need to stand out, show off or behave like an attention seeking wanker to know her own worth.

It’s only in the last six months or so that I’ve been able to admit to myself that this is, in fact, total guff.  The cold, hard truth is that I don’t try because I think that I will fail.

I can count the number of job interviews I’ve been to over the last 10 years on one hand, and have watched friends and colleagues whizz past me up the greasy pole. At team building sessions, quizzes, and during face time with head honchos, I’ve always laid low with a tiny smile pulling up the corners of my mouth, telling myself that demonstrating such naked ambition and desperate showboating is a pathetic way to behave.  In truth I knew that I had somehow managed to bluff my way into that world, and I didn’t want anyone to discover that I was a fraud, and the strain of constantly trying to remain undercover, and the pain of being ignored, overlooked and forgotten undoubtedly contributed to my breakdown in Spring 2012.

So this time, this year I’m going to try and succeed, excel, win at something.  Be it in my line of work, qualifying as a therapist, baking the best cake, participate in a pub quiz, I’m not only going to try but embrace my desire to do so.

Whoo hoo!


OK, will stop that now……


Whilst under the corporate cosh and trying to manage/disguise my condition, I would so exausted come evenings and weekends that I would, yes, you’ve guessed it, weld myself to the sofa, chug chianti and glaze over in front of the box.

During my recovery time, I have discovered more and more that I’m a bit, well, childish.  I love board games, playing pranks, taking the piss out of people.  As for embarrassing my family, especially the younger members, this fills me with an inexplicable joy.

This was further emphasized when, on a yoga retreat, I, sober as a judge, tried 5 Rhythms dancing.  I was initially very wary of making a idiot of myself, but once we got started there was no stopping me.  I hurled myself around like a loon, laughing hysterically, bouncing like a kangaroo, sticking my teeth out and making farting noises.  I leapt into big, clumsy jetes like a fairy elephant, the ‘dance’ finally culminating in my rolling around on the floor in a mock erotic frenzy.

As I sat grinning and glowing afterwards, I was congratulated for ‘going for it’ by the course coordinator (who went a bit mental herself), whilst the others had been rendered speechless, jaws slack with shock.  Suffice to say, I was extremely grateful that no one had filmed it, and not sure that I could repeat such a tour de force with people I don’t know.

What I will do is resolve to try and do something fun every week.  Without getting arrested.  Ideally.


I rely far too much on Facebook, Twitter and yes maybe even this blog for entertainment, acknowledgment and conversation, and before I know it the day has ended and I haven’t had any face to face or even telephone interaction with a single living soul.

Whilst this blog is a creative outlet, an opportunity to share my secrets and thoughts, and has a definite purpose, fannying around on FB and Twitter for hours, OMG-ing about reality TV stars and actively hating Piers Morgan does not, so will be cutting that down significantly.


Time goes by extraordinarily swiftly when you are walking the corporate wheel or hibernating at home, and I am very guilty of ignoring the world, its wonders and the people outside.

So I have created a mood board of the people I want to see this year, places I want to visit, people I admire and the things I want to achieve.  This in turn helped me pull together a bucket list of all of the things I would like to do before the Mothership returns.

For instance, I want, and will make an effort, to see more of my family oop North and they, surprisingly, are open to this.  I also want to go to Thailand and wash an elephant with a big, stiff broom.  Quite what the elephant thinks about that is anyone’s guess, but you get my drift.

Let’s hope these tools open up a whole new world of experiences for me.


This sounds infinitely worse that it actually is.  I think.

After a hard day at the office, I would come in, kick off my heels, feed the cats, put on some trackies and open a bottle of wine to relax.  This habit has continued long since I walked out on Tosspots Inc. and I have nothing left to be wired about.

This seemingly harmless little habit is fine if you are sharing with a loved one or flat mate, but it is very easy to finish that bottle and then have a hot chocolate laced with Baileys before bed.  Not good.

Therefore I will not open wine and drink at home unless (a) it is a dire emergency (b) there is someone else there to share it with me or (c) I have at least 3 alcohol free days in a row and a maximum of two glasses on the days either side of this abstinence.

Question – what do people drink of an evening if not wine?!  Lemonade?  I’m not a child!  Tea?  Water?   This is going to be hard….

Not as hard, however, as the final three resolutions……


The fact of the matter is, unless I have surgery, I am not going to get any prettier as I get older and even when I have botox, I still don’t like how I look when caught unwares.

Most of us can adjust our features into an acceptable format when voluntarily gazing into a looking glass.  It’s those times that I catch sight of my reflection in department store mirrors that I cringe, and seeing ‘candid’ photos of myself looking hideous online chills me to my very marrow.

That said I did a very brave thing today.  I answered the door to the young grocery delivery man without a single scrap of make up on, and you know what?  He didn’t stumble back and scream ‘Aiieee! Get back, evil one!’  And I felt huge sense of relief.  I’m not even joking.

So, I am going to try and be brave and do this kind of test more often.


GROAN….this is the hardest thing of all for me, it even trumps dating….

Whilst I am sometimes impatient and can lose my temper, the worst thing to be on the receiving end of from me, so I am told, is what an ex colleague used to call my ‘Ice Maiden’.

If someone crosses me, shafts me, hurts me, or the biggest sin of all, deliberately, strategically and skillfully goes out of their way to hurt me, a 12 point locking, 6 inches thick, high security steel door slams shut on them, seals, all of the lights go out and the temperature drops to 5 below freezing.  My demeanor is calm, but totally emotionless and icy contempt emits from my eyes.

This used to distress my poor ex a lot and he was only subject to a minor version of it.  That said when we first split, if I saw him in the street, I would walk past him as if he were invisible and feel nothing myself or for his distress. I know people say that they do this but they usually feel something, anger, glee or satisfaction, but I do not.  I just close down and it’s as if you never knew me, not only that but that you are so insignificant, I can’t even see you.

This is something I clearly developed as a defense mechanism when I was growing up, perfecting and refining it as lifes experiences impacted upon me, and for a good 20 years now, I’ve had it down to a fine art.

I don’t sound like a very nice person, do I?

I know that it does not serve me well.  I know that.   But it’s a very hard to put down your weapon when you’ve had to fight for survival for your entire life.

God, help me with this one, as my sword arm is tired and I really do want to let this go and learn to forgive.  No one is perfect, least of all me, and I need to find a way of protecting myself without feeling the need to hurt someone and cut them out of my life.

A lot to do this year, yes?  Better get on with it.

Oh look, Celebrity Big Brother has just started….. 🙂


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