Phoenix Fights

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

The Daily Post ‘To-Do? Done!’ – SOMEWHERE THAT’S GREEN (Updated)



‘Quickly list five things you’d like to change in your life. Now, write a post about a day in your life once all five have been crossed off your to-do list.’

Of late the majority of my posts have been about the dire stuff that has been happening in my life, hence I’ve been less and less inspired to write, so I thought ‘I know!  I’ll shut up whinging about my shit (yes I do whinge, CD!) and do a “Daily Post” challenge to take my mind of it!’.

And here we are.



WTF, I’ll do it anyway.

My five things, sorry, five OF my things are:

1. Get out of this shitstorm, sell up and find somewhere affordable to live where I don’t keep waking up in a cold sweat (and no it’s not down to the menopause) in the dead of night waiting for the bailiffs/debt collectors to come get me.

2. Find a way to manage my illness with or without the help of professionals, as right now it’s looking like I’ll have to forgo my two years of schema therapy if I move out of this borough. And I can no longer afford to live here.

3. Find some gainful employment that I can tolerate/cope with, so that I don’t keep waking up, covered in sweat, in the blah, blah, blah….

4. Sort out my body, i.e. stop treating it like shite by comfort eating, staying in 24/7 and deliberately depriving it of exercise, and look after it as least as well as I do my car.

5. Find some way of forgiving, accepting and even loving myself so that I can love and be loveable to others and have/keep people in my life.

Pretty fundamental stuff eh?  None of this ‘buy a pair of Louboutins’, ‘pull that hot guy at the gym’ or ‘have a closest clean out’ trivia pour moi.  Such stuff does not even register on my radar right now. Survival is the name of the game.

And how might things look should I achieve the impossible?

Perhaps a little like this:

To clarify, I’m not physically injured and don’t have a ‘semi sadist’ boyfriend; I sometimes wish I did, as I’d be able to justifiably beat the crap out of him, which would be a great exercise in stress relief.  😉


It’s just that I have no idea what a ‘normal life’ would look like for someone like me, so this is as good an illustration as any, and as cringe makingly embarrassing as it is, like Audrey, I do yearn to be away from the city and reside ‘somewhere that’s green’.

But I’m copping out here, because I’m scared to paint the picture.  Because in my heart I daren’t believe it might come true.

But OK, challenges are challenges, so I’ll take a punt at it.

No picket fence, no shrink wrapped furniture (no plastic has been invented that my cats can’t annihilate) and no Howdy frigging Doody who/whatever that is.

But yes, I’m living in that ultimate cliche, a cottage near the sea.

I cook a darn sight better than Betty Crocker and now have a dining room so I can have friends around for BBQ’s, parties and big Sunday lunches.  

I’m living closer to my friends.  I’m close enough to my family that it’s not a five hour journey to get to them, but not so close that it makes either of us twitchy.  

I’m walking distance (or I’ll settle for a short drive) away from the water/beach so I know I can go there and watch the waves when the mind monkeys are driving me ape shit.

I’m walking distance (OK, a short drive) from my part time job which is challenging but not too demanding, leaving me enough energy to pursue the kind of work I love, and yes I have a baking business on the side.

I have the energy to write and make even be embarking on a novel.  At the very least I’m in a writing group and mixing with like minded folk.  

I do yoga. I dance.  I have a social life.  That would be kind of wonderful.

And the biggest thing of all, NO ONE knows about my shit, and whilst I might never pass for normal (quirky/eccentric has been attributed to me in the past), I am accepted and embraced for who I am.  There is no point of me moving to the sticks if the townsfolk know that there’s a (albeit innocent looking) little monster planted in their midst.

If I can have all of that I won’t even need a ‘Seymour’; not yet anyway.  But I live in hope that one day I’ll know what it’s like to be held by a man again, cherished and maybe even enjoy walks on the beach with a strong silent soul.

Control freak dentists of the Shires should, however, watch where they put their implements ‘cos I’m nothing like as sweet as Audrey.

I’m much more of an Audrey 2 really.

With much bigger teeth. 🙂

If I ever achieve all of these things on this list, you’ll be the first to know.  just don’t hold your breath, OK?

Namaste x


8 thoughts on “The Daily Post ‘To-Do? Done!’ – SOMEWHERE THAT’S GREEN (Updated)

  1. That video is hideous, I”m sure you’ll do better than that!
    Good that you’ve made the list!! xx

  2. I hope you find what you’re looking for.

  3. You know, I’ve learned stuff from time to time (not as much as I should have, but hey! waddya want for nothing!) and one of them is, if you’re bloody-minded enough, you can damn well get more than you ever thought you could! You can do this, lady! It mightn’t be perfect in every detail, and saying you ‘just have to believe’ is a total crock, but if you stick your dream up there, clench your teeth fight like hell for it, you can MAKE it happen. You’re one gutsy bird, Sista. Go for it!

  4. You have just been so lovely to me that all I want is the best for you. ❤

  5. Well, Madame, as the old maxim teaches, “One person’s carping is another’s cornucopia”. So…

    Ach, dear lady, call me but Krelborn and I’ll be new baptized.  (Wait, that has the obvious implication of previous baptism, which means—what?  It should be emended to “I’ll be new circumcised”?  Madame, you surely could not have me any more bewitched, however, once is enough.)

    Such a stirring post.  Most especially, as you are not aspiring to win the Irish Sweepstakes or become the next E. L. James (blecch).  You are looking to honestly attainable yet truly fulfilling goals.

    One thing gnaws, though—this idea of normal/normalcy/normality.  You write of having “no idea what a ‘normal life’ would look like for someone like me”.  How is it that you are defining “a ‘normal life'”?  And, what is meant by “someone like me”—is this a matter of your diagnosis/disorder?  More pointedly, is this how you see yourself?  Is it how you believe others see you?  Is it how they make you feel?  Because, with your intelligence and sensitivity and depth, you know that your disorder, while part of you, is not your sum total—no matter how fervently impatient, dismissive, reductionist fucks want to make it so.  You, Madame, are immeasurably more than a diagnosis.

    PS.  No, you don’t whinge.  So, suck it. ;-P

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