...Think, Think, Think...

Random Beth Facts #1

I'm a quiet person.  I talk a lot, but I have things to say.  I know people who are the type that give a running commentary for everything they're doing - it drives me nuts.

I love second-hand book shops.  I tend to look through for the names of the people who owned them or the little inscriptions of the ones given as gifts.

When I get a text message on my phone, my alert sound is Dr Zoidberg

My favourite precious stone is Ametrine

If I go out for indian food, I order the same thing every time.  An indian restaurant is the only place I don't deviate from the regime.  Poppodums, Chicken Tikka, Chicken Korma, Pilau Rice, Bombay Aloo, Nan Bread.  Its not that I can't eat anything spicier, I just like to really enjoy what I'm eating.

I'm scared of horses.  I have no idea why.  I can only suppose in a previous life I was killed or hurt by one.

I believe in reincarnation and karma.

I aspire to have the ability to wear high heels all day, rather than to wear trainers walking to the office and changing when I get there.  Its the pussy's way out.  My feet should be tougher.

In terms of art and music, I love things that are encompassing, that make you feel wrapped up in them. Two examples of this that spring to mind are the Rothko Room at the Tate Modern, and the song "Play Dead" by Bjork.  I find both overwhelming in a very profound way.

On a cultural theme, I'll hop over to film and announce that I love John Cusack.  Love him.  He's so extremely underrated as an actor.

I used to carry an emergency Galaxy Ripple in my handbag.  I stopped when I realised I wasn't saving them for emergencies.

I passed my driving test last November.  I still don't own a car.  The responsibility scares me a bit.

Why having dirty mind is a bad thing at the office

Earlier this week, the owner of the company I work for had been out to a  meeting, presumably about motivational sales techniques.  He was recounting a story to 2 people in my office while I was stood by, writing out a compliment slip to go with something I was sending out.  He was explaining:

"...so, they've got this poster on the walls, with a fist on it.  I asked why and the guy held his hand up, fingers spread and said "What's this?  Its an open palm, and all these fingers are separate.  But whats this?"  He held his hand up in a fist and said "Its a fist, all the fingers are together as a team."  So all these people are holding their fists in the air and chanting "Fist! Fist! Fist!".."

At this point, I burst out laughing and my boss and the two salesmen look at me in mock horror. Cue comments like "Young Lady!" (from the boss) or "Beth!  I'm surprised!"

I went scarlett.  In fact no, scarlett isn't red enough.  I went uber-scarlett.

But come on...really.  Can you chant that in an office and not get any sniggers?  Am I the only one who thinks that chanting "Fist! Fist! Fist" is more appropriate talk for an extreme gangbang than it is for an office? 

Maybe I'm just the only one who didn't know better than to laugh!

Seeking Comfort in the Familiar

As mentioned in my previous post, for the first time in about 8 months I went and had a session with my counsellor.  He and his wife both work as therapists of some sort.  He lectures in mental health nursing at a nearby university and his wife is an acupuncturist and naturopath.  They don't have a living room, they have a therapy room.

That room is one of those places that makes you feel like you're totally safe from the crap in the outside world when even though you're actually closer to it than you are when you're living your day to day life.  You peel back all of the layers and admit things out loud that you're barely able to admit in your head. It has a particular smell, that room.  I'm not sure what it is, other than its one of the oils that is used after an acupuncture session.  I love that smell.  I try and remember it when I'm feeling like I'm having a stressful moment.  It makes me feel protected somehow.

I find it fascinating how a total stranger can look at you and read you.  He sees through all the bullshit.  He knows exactly why you're doing what you're doing and makes you face up to it. 

The boyfriend hadn't contacted me in any way shape or form for 10 days at the time I had the session.  I explained to my counsellor (who I'm attempted to refer to as Donnie as a nod to Woody Allen) how things had been better, the communication was a lot better than it had been previously and then this past week-ish, it had gone to shit.  I got no reply to a "Miss You" text, or to a "haven't seen you for 2 weeks and would be grateful if you could make time to see me this week" voicemail, or finally to a "I haven't heard from you for a week and a half, you're not at work, I'm worried" voicemail."  I told him I was hurt and angry as it really isn't that hard to send a text to say "Hi babe, really sorry, things are mad - will speak to you soon."  I'd have been cool with that.  I wouldn't have been wondering why I was being ignored or worrying that something awful had happened.  I wondered why, when on Thursday night I'd left that voicemail saying I was worried, he hadn't called me the next day to say everything was ok.  Why would you make a worried person wait any longer than necessary to put their mind at ease?

My counsellor pondered for a moment and said, "You're such a clever girl Beth.  You're perceptive and witty and just bright as a button.  Why do you make yourself a doormat?"

Because thats what I am when I'm involved with a man.  I know why too. 

I'm terrified of turning into my mother.  She's a nag. When my dad gets home from work, she's on his back straight away.  There's always something.  I don't want to be like that.  So when my boyfriend says he's busy at work, I don't make a fuss.  I just let him get on with it knowing he'll call/text when he can. 

So in my utter fear of turning out like my mother - bitter and spiteful and ungrateful - I put myself in the position of being walked over.  I allow a lot of people to get away with things that I really shouldn't.

Interestingly enough, I had a text from the boyfriend this morning to say that he'd been so very busy and to apologise.  I did reply, although I was in two minds about it as I'm still hurt that I'm so low priority that my being worried doesn't want a quicker reply.  All I could say was "Thank you for letting me know you're ok, I'll talk to you when you're less busy x"

This afternoon I wondered if my reply was a little short.  Too abrupt perhaps.  But in the grand scheme of things, I felt it was warranted.  I couldn't love him more if I tried and its because of that I'll let certain things slide rather than make a nuisance of myself, but sometimes a little consideration for my feelings is required. 

I have to work out for myself how I deal with these issues and I'm comforted to know that while I'm trying I have the familiarity of that room as a sanctuary.

A quick note about comments...

While I'm happy for people to read my thoughts and I'm always grateful for input from my readers, on this particular post I'm not interested in a barrage of comments telling me he's not worth my time or to dump him. That won't be in any way constructive to me during a difficult time that I'm trying to navigate through and so on this occasion if thats your opinion I would ask that you please don't post it - Many Thanks.