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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FEAR(LESS)

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I started the New Year on a high.

Reeling and spinning wildly to an Irish folk band with my friends, when midnight struck, I thought ‘What am amazing start to the year!  Surely only good things can follow a night like this!’

Then the rain came.

Then Christmas was over.

The decorations come down.

Then reality bites.

I’m almost broke, still unemployed, still nuts, and have so, so very much to do.

And much of it is out of my hands.  How I hate been beholden to or having to rely on anyone else.

So I made like a very grey squirrel and hibernated under the duvet as the storms ripped and swirled and howled outside my bedroom window.

So today is essentially the first day of my 2014 and dawned when I was rudely awakened by the postman trying to deliver me a parcel.  Even I was too shamefaced to start the year answering the door to him all crusty eyed and apologetic AGAIN.

Déjà vu much?

https://sistasertraline.wordpress.com/2013/01/04/please-mr-postman-2/

But I’m up and about and starting to do good stuff for myself whilst waiting for the rain to stop and my group therapy to start.  Like drinking more water.  Cutting down on sugar (as much as a wannabe baker can).  Making tentative social plans for the week.  Making plans for the year over all.

As whilst 2013 didn’t kick my butt down the stairs, it did very politely escort me to the elevator and press ‘B’ for basement as far as helping me achieve my aims was concerned.

But there was stuff I needed to see down there and I’m guessing I needed to go a bit further back, just so’s I can get a good run up when leaping forward into 2014 😉

Besides, good things came from 2013, without a doubt.

And whilst I do have some New Years Resolutions to keep front of mind this year, I’m not going to bore the tits off you lot with all of them.  I’ll find other ways of letting you know how I progress in life. 🙂

But here are a couple that might resonate with some of you:

  • Not swear like a foul mouthed chav/football support/navvy all the time
  • Treat my body more like a temple and less like a graffiti covered, piss streaked bus stop in Peckham (whoops, did it again, gosh darn it!)

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  • Start one thing and finish it before embarking on something else. That should stop me disappearing into cyber space for hours on end when I’m meant to be working.
  • Practice yoga.  If it leads into a career path great, if not, I still benefit.  NO PRESSURE.
  • Workwise, stop fannying around (arghh!) doing things in a half hearted manner.  If I’m going to act, I owe it to myself to make some kind of commitment, get some good photos done, build a portfolio and treat it like a business as opposed to a hobby.
  • Focus my energy on things that count and move ME forward, and not rant about Piers Morgan/Gordon Ramsay, get caught up in reality TV, or spend days commenting on and sticking up for people like Nigella Lawson who is fabulous, but has/had a great legal team and, let’s face it, doesn’t even know that I exist.
  • Eat uncooked jelly/jello as it’s meant to be good for the nails and mine are like paper.
  • Groom my cats everyday and then they’ll vomit up fewer hairballs and I won’t walk out of the door looking like a yeti every day.

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  • And finally and most importantly, work hard to conquer the fear.  After all, what’s the worst that will happen?

Don’t even think about answering that one!

After all I may be a cat lovin’, pill popping, fear filled freak, but one things for sure, I sure ain’t no pussy….

Happy 2014 one and all!

Namaste

SS x


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WHAT SPEW, PUSSY CAT?

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I ask you, is there any creature more contrary than a frigging cat?

Answer – two cats.

Because, I swear to you, they collude….

In the years BC (before cats), I had beautiful natural wool off white flooring that I managed to keep immaculately clean for a good eight years.

Since being a kitty momma, it has gradually deteriorated after being clawed to smithereens, having litter walked into it, and having hairballs and undigested cat crunchies vomited on it on practically every other day.

I groom my mogs whenever I can get hold of them, but Dex is pretty fluffy and Charlie is prone to ‘scarfing and barfing’ his food anyway (because he thinks quite rightly that Dex will steal it, given half the chance) so even though I clean up any stains and deposits as soon as I can, my flooring is a patchy, scratchy shadow of it’s former self, so the time has come to have it replaced.

Aware of the havoc that these cute, innocent looking, furballs of destruction can create, I’ve taken care to do all my research with regard to avoiding loops, light colours and anything that might stain.

I then narrowed it down to four options and ordered some samples to ensure that it complemented my decor and now have found one that fits the bill perfectly.

The only fly in the ointment is that whilst a brand might say that their carpets are stain proof, vomit contains stomach acid, and if I’m at work (hah!) and this stuff is allowed to sink into the pile for a number of hours, it could still stain, so I had a brain wave.

Next time one of them puked, I would scoop it up <retch>, pile it up onto the carpet sample, then leave for eight hours or so and see if it survives the ordeal. 

Congratulating myself on my canniness, I planned ahead and got some quotes with a view to have something fitted within the fortnight, and waited for one or both of them to screw their little faces up, make that awful honking noise and produce the goods.

That was over three weeks ago.

After approximately five years of chucking up nearly every other day, their mouths are, as of now, resolutely welded shut and they haven’t so much as regurgitate a single, solitary kibble.

How.  Can.  This.  Be?

And, more to the point, why?

Why now?

I eyed Dex crunching his way delicately through his breakfast this morning, and whilst I’m not cruel enough to do anything to make him puke, I wish I could give him a temporary weight complex so that maybe he’d ram his paw down his throat just this once.

‘Putting a bit of timber on there Dexter, look at that belly!  Are you sure you haven’t eaten too much today?  Summer’s a-comin’!’

This doesn’t even break his stride.  He just looks at me scathingly and carries on regardless.  I forget he wasn’t around for my eating disorder days.

And I just know the minute I throw these carpet square in the bin, they’ll be back to putting Regan from ‘The Exorcist’ to shame.

So with regard to re-carpeting my flat, I am literally at their mercy.

And I thought I was Top Cat.

Whenever you’re ready boyz, whenever you’re ready……