...Think, Think, Think...

Stressed Out!

For those of you who saw that last blogpost called "Ooops" and were confused, blame Typepad and my iPhone.  It was meant to be a draft, but it published somehow?  I don't know how.

I haven't posted anything recently because my head really hasn't been in the right place for it.  

Short version of events is that I'd been trying to ignore a number of things that were making me feel extremely stressed, but I'm now at that point where they can't be ignored anymore.

It all hit me on Wednesday.  I was okay in the morning, left the office to go to a meeting and totally lost it.  Its always nice to spend a journey in a colleagues car trying not to cry, then the rest of the day with that person walking on eggshells for fear that they'll totally set you off and not know how to stop it.

Fortunately, I held myself together (just) until I got home, at which point I totally lost it when I realised that I'm actually not coping here.  I've been feeling really taken for granted and under massive amounts of pressure (most of which I'm putting on myself, it seems) and for whatever reason, Wednesday was breaking point.  

I think what did it was realising that I wasn't coping, but that I felt so overwhelmed by everything that I didn't know where to start to fix everything.  Its a pretty scary place to be, knowing so much is wrong but being totally stuck and unable to work out what needed to be addressed first.

I'm still not really sure where to start.  I went to see the counsellor on Thursday (after going to the dentist, fun fun) and that helped.  Just talking to someone who doesn't give you logic always works.  

Its really odd that logic is the first thing people turn to when someone is upset.  We all know the logical answer to a problem.  I knew that logically there were a series of things that I had to either do or change to make it better, but its not that side of your brain that dominates when you're at the "can't stop crying I feel like my life is totally fucked" point.  Its the emotional side, the side that consumes you with pain that is in control. 

So, as I write this I'm trying to take everything one day at a time, one stressful episode at a time.  I need to rebuild my mental strength or I'm going to end up in a padded room!  I'm feeling okay today I think.

Blogging may be even more infrequent than usual while I'm sorting myself out, but I'll get there soon.

Bx

Happy Easter

I don't really dig the whole Easter vibe.  I'm not religious.  I'm barely even spiritual.

I don't understand what the eff chocolate eggs have to do with a guy being crucified for all of mankind's sins only to come back to life.

Its an excellent party trick and I like the chocolate, don't get me wrong there.  I just don't see what one has to do with the other.  Shouldn't we be eating chocolate crosses?  Or maybe gingerbread sepulchres?  

I haven't really been out this weekend.  I think I may be in a friend-transitional-period.  Meaning that I feel a little bit like some of them are going over there, and I'm over here and paths are not crossing.

I've gotta say, its been stressing me out.  The whole "OMGsomehowI'veendedupallbymyselfandIreallydon'tthinkI'vebeenabadfriendandwhatdoIdonow" vibe has been omnipresent for the last couple of months.  

I decided to use the long weekend to try and relax about it all and figure out what I do from here. 

Short answer is that I really don't know.  Other than, I'm not chasing people.  I'm always the chaser.  If I wanted to chase, I'd start dating.  For now, there is no chasing in my future.  Unless I'm the chasee.  It could be seen as childish I guess, but friendships are two way.  Being the instigator becomes tiring and you start to wonder "Are you saying yes because you just don't know how to say I don't want to hang out with you anymore?"

Interestingly enough, just being okay with that is such a weight off my shoulders.  Sitting down and reconciling the fact that spending the weekends by myself isn't terrible and that not going out to dinner a few times a month isn't the worst thing in the world.

It seems that I've needed processing time.  I've had it, but I opted to use it to mope instead.  Not the smartest choice I've ever made.

Anyway, that was my Easter post.  A little snippet of whats going on in my brain.  No major discoveries.  Nothing I probably couldn't have figured out sooner.  But helpful stuff nonetheless.

I hope everyone is having a good weekend, whatever you're doing.

Venting

I am in a horrible mood.

Over the last few months I have comfort eaten my way out of two suits.  Two suits that I really liked. Two suits I currently cannot wear because of my fat-assery.   I never used to have this problem.  Apparently I am now the side of 25 where your metabolism fucks you.  I have other suits, but those are my only two blue ones.  Maybe Next make the blue ones smaller. The other colours in the same size all seem to fit fine.  

So, this means that I either need another little dose of food poisoning (the last one was a nasty bug, but no real weightloss occurred).  A break-up would do it too.  There is the healthy eating option, but lets be realistic here.  This is me we're talking about.  The girl who currently has a pack of those Easter special Cadbury's Caramel bunnies in her bag just in case.

As I type am in a hotel somewhere near Milton Keynes (so the location isn't helping) working before going into a meeting.

We arrived just before 8am and sat in the lounge for over 20 minutes before we could order anything, because my boss who has been here before said that the woman serving wasn't settled in - hence she didn't see if we wanted to order anything.  I'm sorry, but if you can't do your job from the point that you arrive in the morning perhaps its time to get another job. I'd love the luxury of "I'm sorry, I can't work just yet..I'm not settled in" but I don't think I ever really settle in.  I just start work and try to keep my head down.  It seems that my new role, which I love, doesn't exactly make me popular. Although I don't suppose I've ever been popular as I'm one of those people who likes shit done right and if its not, I get a bit...tetchy.  Maybe not tetchy.  More like intolerant.  I'm getting better though.  

I have a latte.  With sweetener rather than sugar. "Sweet N Low".  Pink packaging, presumably tailored to women's tastes.  As its only women who diet and all women like pink.  Its not even the type of place where I can jazz it up with the addition of some sugar free syrup.  Or maybe I can.  I'm just not sure that miss "settled-in" can stretch to that.  It is the ungodly hour of 9:37am after all.  Very early.  It makes me miss Starbucks.  Grande-skinny-latte-with-sugar-free-hazelnut.  Yum.  Better service too.  You can go in there at 7am and nice people serve you...quickly.  Because its their job.  There are also marshmallow twizzles.  Double yum.

I'd sort of counted on it being pay day today.  It appears that it is not.  Wednesday.  I don't need anything, but some comfort shopping would have been nice today.  A nice lipstick or something.  Not today.  Unless its a nice lipstick that is less than a fiver.  Which really constitutes a normal lipstick.  A nice one is one of the ones that costs £10 plus...or even £20 plus.  Extortionate, yes. But can one put a price on short-term material happiness?  

Meeting o'clock.  Must dash.

Recurring Dream

I don't often remember my dreams.  I sleep a lot, but I think i always wake up at the "right" point in the sleep cycle so I feel okay.

I have had this particular dream a few times, although this is the first time in months that it has happened.

A bit of background that may help.  I can drive (only an automatic), but I don't.  Its one of those things I really, really don't enjoy doing.  It feels like a lot of responsibility, even in a little car.  My dad hired a car recently when we went up north for the funeral and I did zero driving until we were back home and even then, I drove myself into town, a distance of less than a mile, and then got out and he drove wherever he was going after that.  I needed a reminder that I could still do it, but I have no real intention of having a car of my own any time soon.

In the dream I'm in the passenger seat of the car when suddenly I realise that  no one is driving.  The car is going, but its not being steered by anyone.  I try to reach over and put my foot on the break and steer the car but I can't reach.  Eventually I get into the drivers seat and control the car. Sometimes, there is a police car nearby and I panic that they'll see me and stop me for not having a license.

The obvious analysis would be that I don't feel like I'm in control of my life and that I feel like I'm doing something that I don't think I have the right to do, when actually I do.  To an extent it could be true as I very often don't feel like I'm "enough".  At work, my boss couldn't be more pleased with what I'm doing but my standards for myself are very harsh and I sometimes think I should be doing more.  I should be better.  At home, I'm going through a period where I feel a bit like I'm not fitting in with my friends the same way I used to, that perhaps they have outgrown me and I'm not entirely sure what to do about that.

So my wonderful, wise readers; help!  Do you have any insight on what this all might mean?

B'bye 2009

I didn't really enjoy 2009.  Yeah, there were some good things that happened but overall it was a bitch.

Shame really, as I started it so optimistically.  It was going to be MY year, I was going to have a great one.

I didn't.  At least it feels like I didn't.

In January:

• My best friend and his partner took me wine tasting for my birthday.  I learned the proper way to get pissed on wine.
• I saw a burlesque/circus act where a woman pulled a hankie from out of "there" as a magic trick and another deep-throated the leg of a bar stool.
• I had a terrible birthday itself (got locked out in the rain, had to cook my own dinner).
• I fell on an incy pavement and hacked my knee to shreds (still have the scar).

In February:

• Someone tested the water to see if I'd be up for a threesome.
• I was a mere micron away from flashing someone in the pool at the gym.
• I got promoted.

In March:

• I felt stuck in a rut (kind of a theme for the year).
• I asked everyone to tell me their favourite quotes (then put them in a word doc and didn't put them into a book like I meant to).
• I got a funny phonecall.

In April:

• It was suggested I swear too much. (Fuck, no!)
• Someone looked at my blog in search of mother/daughter relationship advice (wrong blog, sistah!).

In May:

• I started to get reeeeeaally unhappy at work.
• I had a brief existential crisis.
• When asked to name an intelligent person who didn't exercise, I came up with Prof. Stephen Hawking.
• I entered a pub quiz on a team called "quiz on my face" (and I'm still laughing).

In June:

• I thought I was out of the rut (wasn't.  so wasn't).
• I lost one of my best friends because I guess he had to make a life choice.  I'm just sad that a compromise couldn't be reached.

In July:

• I got the goose flu and spent 10 days sounding like Marge Simpson.
• My mother dramatically damaged Anglo-Norwegian relations.
• I got my own domain.
• I got a crush on Danny Dyer (oh, the shame).

In August:

• I did a quiz so you could all learn more about me.
• I got annoyed with the neighbours and their screaming kids.
• I apologised for whining so much.
• I identified some things that really piss me off.
• I got ID'd in Waitrose buying posh fruit cider and dinner.
• Not blogged, but this is when stuff started to get really bad at work.  Like crying before I left the house bad.

In September:

• I shared some brief insight to what breakfast is like when I'm unhappy (hint: not healthy).
• I saw Danny Dyer in a play (he was 6 feet from me, if that).
• I experienced the pain of calf massage.

In October:

• Someone found my blog upon searching for "Young Person with Bags Under Eyes" - nice ego boost.
• I got free trainers from www.fitnessfootwear.com.
• I went on an unsuccessful clothes shopping fit and had someone imply I was fat.
• Not blogged, but my maternal grandmother (who I had no relationship with) died.

In November:

• Not blogged, I went to the funeral of my maternal grandmother.  It reminded me how friends are the family we choose for ourselves and made me wonder if I'd see any of the people there again.  It was a very weird experience all around. There were only 3 of us in the crematorium not really grieving.  I felt like I was trespassing.
• Not blogged, by now work was pretty much destroying me and I'd started work on my CV.
• I was in a minor car accident for which I totally blamed myself.
• I met fellow bloggers and saw a play called Poles Apart, which was a wonderful experience.
• I revamped the beauty blog again.

In December:

• My role at work completely changed, meaning that I do virtually no direct customer service work, am not responsible for a team and work directly for one person.  I couldn't be happier, its like starting afresh.  The extra nice thing about this was that the person I now work for specifically asked for me to be the one to help him and its all going really well.
• I struggled to find the enthusiasm to put up Christmas decorations.  In fact I struggled with enthusiasm for Christmas altogether.
• I got some sort of lurgie which the Doc initially said was eczema and forbade me from having bubbles or hot baths/showers.  Turns out, after a second visit to another Doc its Pityriasis Rosea which will eventually go by itself.  This means that I can't treat it and have returned to the world of hot bubbly baths and long, hot showers.
• I wished all of my wonderful readers a Merry Christmas.

So, a long recap there (check out the archives for the original posts).  It felt like such a long, stressful year and I was constantly run down and ill.  It seems that stress will do that to you.  

2010 will be different.  I'm not sure how, but it will.  Today I'll be tidying all my shit so that I'm starting the new year I'll at least be able to find things.

I hope you all have a fantastic time tonight, whatever you may do.

I'll see you on the other side!

Bx

No Bubbles

The two most awful words to the ears of a beauty junkie.  No bubbles.

They screech, cutting you to your very core.  The horror.  THE HORROR.

A couple of weeks back, I noticed a little red round patch on my arm.  Nothing major, not itchy or weeping or anything grim.  Just a little red patch.

Then a couple of days later another one.  A bit further up on that arm.  At intervals, cue repeats on my thigh, my chest, back, calf, hip.  Some of them are a bit itchy.  Blech.

Last week I decided I'd best make myself a doctors appointment as it was definitely getting worse.  Earliest the one who specialises in the skin stuff could see me was today, at the surgery in the "group" that is the furthest from my house.  1.9 miles walking, according to Google Maps.

All weekend, I scoured the internet trying to self-diagnose, which we all know is a fools game.  Eventually I came to what I felt was the only logical conclusion.  It was Ringworm and it was obviously the cat's fault.  She hates me anyway, so why not infect me with hideous fungus?  Smug little sod.*

Turns out, I am not fungal.  Its eczema.  This brings both good and bad news.

Good news - I am not fungal.  Always nice to know.

Bad news - No bubbles.

By that, I mean that the doctor has advised that I use no perfumed products or bath/shower doo-dahs that lather until this is all sorted.

Its likely to be caused by a cold weather/central heating combo, mixed with my love for baths so hot you could cook food in them and a good dose of stress thrown in for seasoning. 

I've now got all sorts of new but boringly packaged, un-sexy smelling products to use.  E45.  Doublebase Gel.  Some sort of steroid cream just in case the itching gets unbearable.  And no more scalding hot baths.  I'm allowed short, warm showers.  Lucky me.  Just what you crave after a long day at work "Oooh yes, I'll have a quick splash in some lukewarm water for 30 seconds".  Great.

I'm torn between my love for soaking in a hot bubbly tub and my vanity i.e. knowing that to not look like a plague victim I have to take the advice.  Okay, I exaggerate.  I don't look like a plague victim.  children are not singing Ring a Ring o' Roses at me as I walk down the street** but I feel SO unattractive. 

I'll try to be good.  I switched from a daily shower/bath routine to a shower only routinue before when I had my tattoo done.  Although that was in late summer/early autumn so I felt less of a need to surround myself with a warm cocoon. 

As a plus point for friends and colleagues, I'll be going through my huge box of bath and shower goodies and handing out some castoffs.  I may alternatively open a branch of Boots.  I do believe I have enough stock to last until sometime in mid-February.

What I find most interesting slightly appalling is that the stress of one thing or another at work has had me feeling run down for ages.  It is only now that I'm showing physical/cosmetic signs of stress that my vanity kicks in and goes "Oi! You'd best do somethng about this.  You're starting to look a bit rough".  Am I really so shallow that my appearance is a stronger motivator than my health?

I'm not going to answer that.  You can draw your own conclusions.  The only hint I'll give you is that I will be redirecting my bath/body product fund into expanding my makeup collection.

* I apologised today.  I picked her up and hugged her and she looked more unimpressed at that than at the accusation.

** Did you spot the deliberate mistake here?  I know, I know.  Its nothing to do with the plague.  All a myth.  I was just testing.

"But can't THEY hear it too?"

A few doors down from us, there is a family with two young children.

All day, every day, one of these children alternates between shrieking (you know, that kind of shrieking that goes right through you) and crying.

My dad, who is off work at the moment and is home all day, has been subject to this all week while he's been sorting out the back garden. He's a fairly patient sort of bloke, but these kids have really tested his patience.

You see, the parents don't seem to do much about this screeching.  God knows if we can hear it, they must hear it louder?  Why would you ignore it?  Why live like that? 

I'm not a massively maternal person.  I like children when they say terribly profound things, or when they inadvertently embarass their parents - for example the story my therapist told me about the little boy in the supermarket with his parents who, after being told he couldn't have chocolate, announced to his mother and all the shoppers in the vicinity; "If you don't let me have a Mars bar I'll tell Grandma that I saw you licking Daddy's willy".

Badly behaved children are a problem for me.  In restaurants, or shops - but especially when I've been at work all day and I want to chill in my back garden with a glass of wine and talk to the cat that isn't ours (more on her another time).

Yesterday, Dad was pushed to the point that he ended up yelling "Would you just SHUT THOSE KIDS UP".  Shortly thereafter he saw both children being put into their carseats and taken out for the afternoon, leaving him with a bit of peace to do what he was doing.

I've just got back from having my hair done and they're back at it again.

Is it wrong that I'm considering giving social services a quick call, just saying how concerned I am about all the screaming?

I mean, it may just be a phase (my friend Su's little ones went through the same thing, albeit on a lesser scale I think) but what if it isn't and I have to put up with it for the rest of the summer they're actually hurting the children?

Video Blog Update

For those of you who saw it and are wondering where it is, I've taken the video blog down.

I needed to vent and I did, and I very much appreciate your comments.  Silly as it may sound, I felt like I needed some rational adults to tell me that I wasn't way off base for reacting the way that I did and because my readers are awesome, a few of you did that - so thank you all very much for that.

I may do another post to update on the situation further, but after a few days to think and no returned calls or email I think I'm fairly safe (but heartbroken) to say that that chapter of my life has now drawn to a close.

If anything, this has taught me that you can't force people to be your friends - nor can you choose their spouse for them to make sure they get someone who you know they really deserve - and I guess if you really care for them you let them do whatever they need to in order to live as happy and peaceful a life as possible.

And thats what I'll do. 

I'll probably despise her forever though, just to be clear on that. :)

At 27 years old, how did I get here?

Thats it.

Just a question.

How?  What steps did I take that put me where I am now?  Maybe, what steps didn't I take?

I figure, not going to university was one of them.  Not knowing what I wanted to do with my life didn't help.

This puts me, at 27, living a life that I'm not sure that I'm happy with*.  I'm also not sure how to fix it.

Stuck sucks.

*I do realise that happy isn't a permanent state, but it being an occasional state would be lovely at the moment.  When things that make you unhappy day to day either put you back in therapy or leave you so frustrated that you can't speak because you know if you do you'll either get extremely angry or cry its a pretty sorry state of affairs. 

Late-Summer Clean and a serious case of the What If's

Lately I've been feeling a bit sort of unsettled.  Not unhappy, but not exactly happy either.  Feeling like I needed some sort of change and thats quite a difficult thing to engineer.

I feel like I need to go through everything and throw out the things I don't need.

Last weekend I started with DVD's and books.  I have 320 dvds now and that doesn't include the 32 that I'm never ever going to watch again that ggot put in a bin bag to go to the charity shop. 

I got rid of 15 or so books.  Those little gems on relationships that are supposed to help keep things running smoothy.  They never did.  If twisting myself into knots to be agreeable and "understanding" and behaving like a complete doormat wouldn't keep the man around, some crappy notion about Mars and Venus wasn't going to do much either.  I get rid of the books on what to do when you get dumped again, because that path I'm now familiar with, I have my own way of dealing with it and it usually depends on the method of dumping.  Fortunately in the last year I haven't had to worry because I haven't put myself at risk.

Books and DVD's done my bedroom is now substantially tidier.  I spend probably 90% of my time at home in there so some space is nice, given that its little more than a nicely decorated, technically well equipped cell.

This leaves my wardrobes, drawers, handbags and shoe collection.  I've been saying for months that I'd go through all of these and put it off every time.  Its not a nice job.  Its harder than with books or dvds because I know I can re-buy them if needs be.  The clothes/shoes/bags are seasonal - once they're gone they're gone.  But whats the point in keeping things I never wear?  They may as well go to people who will use them, who need them more than I do.

But here's my worry.

What if I do all the sorting out, get rid of all the clutter and things I don't need and free up lots of space and don't feel any better?

I'm inclined not to take action at times, because if I don't (and this is the losers way out, I know) I can say "X isn't working, but I could do this if I wanted and that would probably fix it".  I'm just sort of scared that if I do it and it doesn't, I'm even more stuck.  No hope of moving forward or making change because I've tried and failed.

I have this attitude with fitness.  I could be slimmer and more toned if I exercised.  I'd probably feel better in myself and even be more attractive to the opposite sex...but what if I do it and I don't and I'm not?  What then?

Its fear and I know I shouldn't let fear control my life on any level...I'm just weak at the moment.