Phoenix Fights

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




2014 has been a wee bit tough for me so far.  Deaths, illnesses, resigning myself to applying for benefits, baking stall disasters etc., but last night I did my first Fear Smack Down of the year.  🙂

I’d pretty much spent 4 days and nights on my own, and one of my friends, whom I thought was supportive of my illness not only appears to be blanking me *, but has kind of ‘jumped in my grave’ so to speak, and snatched an opportunity away from me that I alerted her to, mug that I am.   And given she is one of my new supposedly ‘positive’ acquisitions, it feels like such a betrayal and makes me fall back into thinking that I can’t trust anyone whatsoever.

So me being me, of course, I found a polite way of saying ‘stuff it up your arse’, backed off and let her keep it.

Then last night, I was meant to be going to a Meet Up group with another new friend who, after asking if she could go with me, cancelled on me at the very last minute.

Instant karma anyone? 😉

I know, I can hardly talk, but it did drag me even further down mood wise.

And as the turbulent storm outside (and the even bigger one in my head) raged, yes, you guessed it, the urge to bail and stay glued to the sofa for the night was almost irresistible.

I did my usual procrastinations to kill time; hoovered the flat, played Scrabble online, sniped a bit on eBay, bleached my teaspoons etc. and all along the voices told me don’t go out, stay in, no one will talk to you let alone dance with you, what are you going to say when they ask you what you do, you’re too late now, look at the state of you, you’re too old for this, stay in and watch TV with us, you don’t need anyone else, you’ll only get hurt….

Then a very familiar voice cut through all of the others and said kindly but insistently ‘Don’t let the child sit in and fester!  Encourage her to go along, and remind her, she can always come home if she doesn’t like it.’

And for once, out of the hundreds of times I failed to listen to Aunty C’s sage words, I slid off the sofa, rushed to the bathroom, hurriedly daubed on some make up, pulled on a top and jeans and scuttled out into the night, muttering to myself ‘It’ll be fine, it’s loud and anonymous; take the car and if it’s awful you can always leg it home quickly.’

And do you know what?

It wasn’t fine.

It was brilliant!

As soon as I got in I spotted someone I’d met before and before I knew it, we got chatting to two other girls and I had friends, for the evening at least.

The bands were loud, too loud for us to chat too much, so I kept my anonymity, hid my nuttiness, and any nervous OTT antics were probably just perceived as me trying to be heard over the din.  The dancing was hilarious, everyone was clowning about and it was so much fun, and I span till I was dizzy, and all I could feel was joy and gratitude to God for this few hours of respite.

I also got a few appreciative looks from the opposite sex, but I avoided their eyes, ducked my head and steered clear.  Run men of Knightsbridge run, you have no idea what you’re dealing with….


I even had a couple of cheeky ciders, both of which I am regretting this morning, but in all all?

I was glad I went.

So take that Fear!  OK you might be well up on points, and have hundreds to my one so far this year, but I warn you, this time, I’m committed to kicking your arse by the medium of dance.

So, I’m spinning around, move out of my way bitch!

Namaste x

* I could be wrong 😉


RIGHT NOW! (Thrust, thrust)


Had a particularly heavy session with Aunty C today about the Fear, plus heard about something terribly tragic that happened to a friend of mine, so in order to cheer myself up, I decided to clean my kitchen from top to toe, in lieu of the imminent ‘Baking Police’ inspection.

Yes folks, I certainly know how to live….

When it comes to chores like this, you need something to help you through. I mean, you spend hours cleaning grease and filth from the ceiling, the top of cupboards, inside cupboards (WTF? How?!!), the contents of said cupboards, under the fridge, and not to mention, the dreaded inside of the oven, and when you’re done, and you stand back and look at your handiwork, you can barely notice the difference?

Not fun. So I had my iTunes on shuffle to keep my spirits up.

When my music library decided, in it’s infinite wisdom, to play some really morose stuff, I had to get down off the step ladder, take off my rubber gloves and go and change it to something more upbeat before I decided to Hara Kiri myself with the hand blender, so I decided to listen to some Salsa.

In no time at all, I’m having a little shimmy whilst shining the windows, giving it ‘back basic’ whilst bleaching the sink, and doing a little rueda for one whilst raking out the revolting contents of the vegetable basket.

After a while the gunk started to get to me, so I made myself a cuppa and went to check my emails, but even seated, I couldn’t stop wiggling, much to the disgust of Dexter cat who quickly dismounted from my lap, digging his nails into my bare legs for good measure.

Then when this track, ‘Hoy Tenemos’ by Sidestepper came on, I thought ‘Sod it’ and got up for a proper boogie.

There is a full length mirror in my spare room, so I checked out my style whilst giving it some, just checking out whether I still knew all the moves.

And you know what, it’s like riding a bike, it all comes back once you get going. I even had a go at that shoulder shake/shiver thing Latinos do so well. You know, the one that looks like the kind of thing a cold dog would do if it felt someone walk over it’s grave, but mine always was, and still is a bit slow. Then again, the twins kind of make it a bit difficult 😉


So there I am, wiggling away like a proper Chica, when I happen to glance out of the window and see some bloke at the bus stop grinning straight up at me.

My immediate instinct is to drop to the floor and hide, I feel so stupid and exposed, not to mention disgusting with my greasy face and hair all piled up on my head, but I manage to resist the urge, grin back, shrug my shoulders and he laughs. I nod, laugh too and go to move away from the window, but he waves his hands around like he is signaling a plane to land.

I frown and tilt my head to indicate confusion.

He points at the pavement.


I shrug again theatrically. Has he dropped something?

He mouths something and does it again.

This is getting awkward; he’s kind of killed my groove, my hands are feeling dry and that floor won’t clean itself, so I shake my head sadly shrug again, and make to move away.

He flaps his arms again wildly.


Then I get it.

Come down. Come here.

Then I manage to lip read.

He’s wants to talk to me before his bus comes.

‘Right now!’ he’s saying.

Which is a huge coincidence as that is a line from the song, not to mention a fucking miracle, as I look like shit.

This is ridiculous; I want to move away and get on, but I’m trying to refuse politely so not getting very far. Then, finally when he mimes some kind of jiggy jiggy hip thrust actions, leaving no doubt to his dishonorable intentions, I do finally hit the floor and Get Down (as James would say) and crawl carefully on my hands and knees back to the kitchen.

Dirty Bastard. I am now a bit freaked out and worried that I have a salsa lovin’ stalker.

But also ludicrously flattered that I can pull looking like this. Yes I know, there’s about a hundred yards and two floors between me and him, but clearly my Latin moves haven’t lost their charm.

Maybe it’s time to go back to salsa, and maybe even one day consider doing the ‘horizontal tango’ again.

It won’t be Right Now though.

But not altogether out of the question. Like the song says, all we have is today, tomorrow? Who knows?




I nearly didn’t go to my ballroom lesson last night.

As soon as I started making moves to get ready, all the usual buzz killing demons popped by and had their say.

‘You keep on messing up, don’t go and make an arse of yourself’

‘The teacher doesn’t like dancing with you, so you must be a klutz’

‘How many times have you tried dancing and never got beyond average?  You have no focus, quit already!’

‘The men don’t want to dance with you, you’re too old!’

‘You had chilli for lunch, you can’t breathe that in peoples faces, it’s not fair!’

Their voices all come at once (that’s demons for you, no manners….) which disorientates me, then I end up roaming from room to room, trying to get ready, trying to figure out what I went in there for in the first place, and fighting the rising panic within me.

I managed to get out of the door, heart pounding, with seconds to spare, and only just arrived in time for the warm up.

But I am so glad that I went.

I may not be the best, most focussed, most coordinated dancer in the world but when I’m not pressuring myself and allowing myself to enjoy it, it brings out some kind of joy in me that I don’t understand and can’t explain.  In yoga, whilst I understand the principles/concept of chakras, I have yet to find/feel mine, but one things for sure, if they ever do make their presence know, it’s bound to be through some kind of dancing.

Even the discomfort of being in close proximity to men again has turned into nervous jokes and banter, and giggles when we go wrong, which has to be an improvement when compared to ironing board rigidity and resistance.

These are beginners classes that I’m attending too, which means that for much of the lesson I am lumbering around to too slow music, occasionally bumping feet and crashing into others couples, but when it flows, and there is a meeting of synchronised bodies and minds, something bubbles up inside me like champagne and my spirits soar, and all my theories of wanting to buy an abandoned cottage on a remote Scottish island somewhere and live out the rest of my existence with sheep, hens and goats and NO HUMANS go flying out of the window.

And toward the end of the lesson, when we get to do a bit of jive at the right speed, and my previous Ceroc lessons come to the fore, it was like WHOOSH, not only bubbles in my core, but fizzing foam shooting up and through and out of the top of my head BANG at 60 mph like a cork flying through the air on the last bong of New Years Eve.

The comparison from the way I felt less than two days prior to that night was astounding.  In that moment all of my pain was gone.

I know that dancing brings me joy.  How it looks to others is irrelevant.

Enough of the self hatred and self sabotage.

I must keep it up this time.

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I suspect the purpose of my blog might have been a ambiguous as my wording in the heading was, in hindsight, maybe a mite vague, so I’ve tweaked it and will give you a quick outline just so we’re all clear:

I started this year pretty much in the shitter with regard to nearly every facet of my life, was at the end of my tether, and had no motivation or energy to even attempt to get it back on track.

So what does our heroine do? Lay down and die? Enter a nunnery? Find a damp cardboard box under Charing Cross?  Get committed?

No!  She creates an anonymous online journal, makes to some tough, outlandish (and sometimes bizarre) New Years Resolutions with the aim of achieving them all by 31 December 2013 thus completely transforming her life as we know it.

Ta da!!

That’s where you lot come in.  Because I’ve said it now, in writing too so it’s all legal, and if I don’t do it you’ll think I’m an arse.  You might already think I’m an arse, but that’s by the by….

On good days, I also employ the things that I feel enhance my life such as cooking, music, knitting, poetry, yoga, etc) in the hope that doing things that fulfil me will help get me well.  I blog about them too in the hope that it helps others suffering from depression find solace in them too.

I also regularly host a Pity Party and play ‘boo hoo’ tracks when I feel sorry for myself or just in the mood to hear them.  This sounds pretty grim, but the plus side is that I only ever feature the very best music :-).  I even feature ‘Optimistic Mixes’ too when I need a kick in the arse!

So, you get the ups and downs, rants and raves, thrills and spills and, if you stick around long enough, you’ll get to know whether this tatty old Phoenix achieves all of her planned so-called ‘Flights’ into the real world!

To date I’ve made a teensy bit of progress, but I’ve still go the best part of 10 months to complete everything, Okay?!

So when the bongs chime on New Years Eve 2013, I hope to be….

An employed/working/solvent, outdoorsy, attached, dancing, bendy, serene, cat lovin’, successful Amazon of a woman, who gets up with the lark, so is always presentable post 9am (even at weekends – imagine!), who has loads of multi orgasmic sex (that she wears comfortable sexy underwear for), so doesn’t even have time of an evening to watch TV, has loads of friends because she  is very reliable as far as social arrangements are concerned not to mention forgiving, so is hardly ever in to drink at home,  looks after herself mind, body and spirit, and whenever she passes a mirror, she winks and whispers to her reflection ‘You FOX, you!’

I think that covers most things?

Glad that’s been cleared up, Better get on with it then……



Accidentally on purpose forgot to do my monthly 2013 New Years Resolutions update at the end of February, reason being it’s probably quite a long read, truth be known.

Actually that’s not the reason.  The main reason is that I was too afraid to address it.

What were you like at school/university?  Super organised?  Did you do your homework/assignments:

(a) As soon as you got home

(b) A few days later, or:

(c) Burning the midnight oil the night before, and desperately scribbling down the last bits in assembly?

I’m sure you can guess which category I fell into.  I procrastinated/self sabotaged and still do to this day, even when it was a subject/task I liked, which is probably why I’m in my current situation, as, apart from the odd telephone prompt from family and friends, no one is here to make me do stuff.

Newsflash – just had an emergency call with Aunty C and am (again) under strict instructions and as such will add follow up/action points to all of these beauties to make sure I follow up.

Here we go!  This time, for your delectation, I’ve used examples from the British bird kingdom for illustrative purposes:


The Song Thrush

Like the Song Thrush, I’m still something of a shy bird, and am only really seen out and about when I need to feed.  When the freezer is full, and there’s plenty of milk in the fridge for tea, I may not even open the front door….

Action Point – Go for a jog or walk every morning before breakfast, and schedule things to do that involve going out every day.


The Owl

After having had man flu, I have fallen back into bad habits of late and am, like the Owl, am mainly nocturnal again.  I can sometimes be seen in daylight hours, just not the crack of dawn.

Action Point – Get up and into the bath (or out for that run) the minute the alarm goes off (or when the cats stomp on my tits, whichever comes first) as opposed to wincing and burying myself under the duvet.


The Goggle Eyed Plover

Don’t need to elaborate here do I?  This is my Achilles Heel along with t’internet.  Perhaps I should have given it up for Lent along with booze, but that may well have pushed me over the edge….

Action Point – Limit myself to 2 hours of TV per day max.


The Scarlet Tanager

Like the Tanager (yes, there is such a bird, thank you) I remain somewhat elusive, but did stick with my plans to go on that hike, remember?  And what happened?  Yep, exactly!  Humiliated and left behind!

Put it behind you Sista, put it behind you….

Action Point – Find a new hiking club for oldies 🙂 , book dancing lessons, join local yoga club.


The Eagle

Apart from the odd night here and there, I remain, like the Eagle, solitary and a bit melancholic, but not anything like as magnificent. I can also be a bit cruel  when hurt or let down, which I am learning to curb. Also working very hard on managing my expectations of friends and need to make more so that I am not relying on my precious few all the time.

Action Point – See above


The Gannet

The Gannet is allegedly prone to eating to excess as am I, in the form of comfort eating.  I couldn’t find a bird that eats junk food, though I’m sure most of them would relish a bag of Monster Munch if proffered.  To be fair, my diet has been mixed, I have good days and bad, but am not consistent.  The worst thing I have neglected is my yoga and I have teacher training tomorrow and am very nervous that this lack of commitment will be all too obvious.


I thought about just ‘fessing up to my teachers that I am barking mad and postpone completing the course until next year, but Aunty C says ‘No, that’s not enabling the child!”.  Huh.  Bloody kids.

Action Point – Get back on track with yoga and log/monitor food intake to make sure that my diet is covering all the stops nutrition wise.


The Sulpher Crested Cockatoo

I, like the SC Cockatoo, love to move to music and have surprisingly good rhythm (and I don’t poo on the carpet either), but I’ve cancelled local dance lessons three times now.  Sigh….

Action Point – Book more dancing lessons and GO!


The Dove (From Above)

OK, this is the one thing I’ve aced, because I’ve given up alcohol for Lent and so far I’ve stuck to it, hence the angelic Dove From Above (more Reeves and Mortimer references). The negative side of this is I’ve eschewed a couple of social gatherings as it’s no fucking fun being around my buddies when they’re battered, dancing around and chugging bubbles, when I’m nursing a flat, warm San Pellegrino and a thin, pained smile.

Action Point – Buy drugs to replace alcohol when going out to party.  I’M KIDDING!  Suck it up Sista, your liver will thank you for this, and post Lent?  You can have a little drinkie every now and then :-).


House Sparrow

Like the Sparrow, I’ve barely moved more than 2 kilometres from my home, let alone started work.  Not out of laziness, but pure, unmitigated fear combined with not having a fucking clue what I’m going to do.

Action Point – Explore volunteer work to get me back out there for a couple of days a week.


The Chicken

RE underwear, I’m still scarred (both mentally and physically) by that cheesewire knicker incident I blogged about, so this can bloody wait until I’ve met someone worth wearing frillies for before I go there again.

As for dating, as some of you may know, I have rejoined a dating website (cringe) and two people have sent me messages, but as I’m rather Chicken (geddit?), I haven’t replied as yet.  But I will  Tonight.  Honest.

As for sex, I don’t think casual encounters are for me right now, so this will come if/when I meet someone I want to get down and dirty with.  In the meantime, I’m trying to reactivate my mojo (see ‘Mrs Mojo Risin’ if you really want to go there) so that when the  time comes, I’ll know that it’s going to be worth it, as I don’t do sympathy fucks.

Action Point – Reply to emails, have a fiddle once a week and in the meantime, embrace the 100% cotton apple catchers. Yay!


The Body Dysmorphic Budgerigar

Like the good old Budgie, I do look in the mirror sometimes, but, unlike the budgie, I don’t strut around, get all sexed up and regurgitate clumps of gob and millet all over it.  There are some days I could vomit however….

Action Point – Remove mirrors?!  OK, get fitter and start wearing ‘natural’ make up every day.


The Eagle

Like the Eagle (my spirit guide apparently, maybe that’s why it came up twice) I can be intractable and cruel when hurt, but am coming to terms with stuff and closer to finding peace in my heart every day.

Action Point – Pray

Phew, wasn’t as painful as I thought! And I know more about British birds than I probably ever need to know….

Off to get something healthy to eat, maybe watch an hour of TV then have an early night as I have a full day of yoga ahead of me tomorrow.  Better not wank tonight as shaky legs tomorrow will not help my Warrior in the least….

Wish me luck!