Phoenix Fights

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

THE ARTISTS WAY: Week Two – Recovering a Sense of Keeping the F*ck Up

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worry

So, yes, I admit it, I didn’t check in this time last week; I fell of the horse (mechanical bull more like) but I’m back on it.  Just.

Rather than cram everything into this one post and bore the arse off you, I’m going to do last week’s key observations today, and Week 3 observations tomorrow, OK?

One thing I need to flag up is that unlike most of the people following this course, I’m kind of doing it in reverse; I’ve got some creative stuff going on in the form of this blog but need to use the lessons to get back into the workplace, make new friends and carve a complete life for myself without losing my creative self again.  And do even more creative stuff.

OK.  So last week was about Recovering a Sense of Identity and this mainly addresses the people/things/thoughts that can trip you up along the way. Again, I don’t have work/family commitments or distractions but the ‘Poisonous Playmates/Crazymakers’ section was very interesting.

A Crazymaker is essentially some arsehole that makes unrealistic demands on your time, surrepticously puts you down, and tends not to be too chuffed when something actually starts to go right for you.

Being the defensive old cow that I am, any psychopaths that wander into my life are given very short shrift indeed, but the friend I am estranged from didn’t seem to like the fact that I was coming out of victim mode and trying to get back on track. She’s not a bad person and may not have known she even felt that way, but it’s probably useful to think about your friends and do a quick ‘health check’ on them and make sure you don’t have a secret saboteur. Remember, you don’t need to be paranoid to have someone in your life who’s out to getcha 😉 !

Another part asks that you analyse where your free time goes. Mine tends to be taken up with being in a drugged stupor on the sofa, buried under  a blanket of cats, watching ‘Real Housewives’ (aka narcissistic bitches with more money than sense, who would find someone to argue with if they were at the bottom of a lift shaft to the centre of the earth.  Post Armageddon), but that’s all about to change.  I’m going to start putting together a plan for every day so that I can’t fanny around and waste this precious life God has given me.  I mean it this time.  Honest.

This will also incorporate doing some of the list of ‘20 Things I Enjoy’, some of which I already do so can tick off (yay!) but picking at the wound on my hand doesn’t count, so am I going to force myself to really push the envelope and have a good time this year.  Yowser.

My biggest challenge however and something I need to put some real work into is ‘ATTENTION’.

When one is paranoid, panicky and generally bonkers, you are essentially driving on autopilot because your mind is whizzing around like a rat on a wheel, and you pay only enough attention to not totally insult whoever you are with, get knocked down by a car, or get the sack.

Because I’m constantly obsessing about me, me, me, I tend to pay very little attention to others.  It’s not because they’re not important or interesting, but I’m totally absorbed in trying to survive.

Every encounter with a stranger or a group of people would end with me thinking something along the lines of the following examples:

‘Phew, she didn’t seem hate me; think I got away with that! Hang on, what was her name again?’

‘Oh God, they totally hate me, I saw that blonde one look at her manager and smirk! They think I’m shit, that I’m a joke, word will get round, I’ll lose my job, and…..oh fuck, I didn’t take any notes, what am I going to write this report with?’

‘Well, he clearly thinks I’m desperate, I bet he thinks I’m a sure in for a shag but not good enough to be his girlfriend!  Oh no, he clearly thinks he’s much too good for me!  Well, I’ll show him, just wait till he calls, I won’t be in and….’

Even typing this out makes me cringe, but I can be frank with you, and quite honestly, to date, I can’t help it.  And because this is my default, I have to constantly back peddle to try and catch up with the things I should have taken notice of, and eventually I end up so paranoid and defensive that these people don’t want to be around me anyway.  And who can blame ’em?

What also doesn’t help is I’m ‘blessed’ with quite an aloof face when I’m not smiling (not my choice, I wanted a J Lo or an Angelina – thanks again for that, God…) so a lot of people think I’m snooty.  Little do they know…..

I saw the above image on Facebook today, and it hit me like a frying pan upside the head, so I thought I’d share it.

Who knows, maybe someone else on here has ‘Chicken Licken Syndrome’ and/or is as demented as I am, if so, this is for you my feathered friend.  Take heed.  Worrying is pointless.  Bok, bok, bok, SQUAWK!

I’ll close with the part about ‘Praying for Guidance’.

Look, I haven’t got clue who is up there.  I could be God, Buddha, Allah, Thor, but I don’t actually care.  I feel and have always felt that there is another greater, higher intelligence who exists alongside us, and I don’t think he/she/it cares what you call it either as long as you call it.

I call it intermittently; sometimes I pray, sometimes I meditate, sometimes my yoga feels like a dance with it, sometimes, when I’m angry, hurt, or afraid, I tell it to bog off, but I know it’s there. Hovering.  Hoping for the best for me, willing me to get my idle arse into gear and make a difference, I just wish it would give me a frickin’ clue sometimes.

But again, maybe it’s me who’s not listening…..

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