Calm Down, It’s Only Survival Instinct

http://www.dynamicrealism.com/FPDrawing_OG.html

When we aren’t where we think we want to be (or worse, the dreaded “should be”), it becomes so tempting, so easy, to romanticise the past.  We look back at jobs we had (and left), or relationships that we had (and left), and strangely only ever remember the good things, and before we know it, we are craving to go back to an old life, with our known comforts (an discomforts).

But not only is going backward not an option, it is also not recommended.

I do remind myself, however, that when things are seemingly going well for me and I am confidently striding along my desired path, that I also have a tendency to belittle my past experiences.  “I am so much happier now”, “This is so much better than where I was/who I was with before”.

The truth- I know- is that neither of these scenarios is actually correct.  They are both false representations of my current situation (and my past).  It is my mind playing [a rather nasty] trick on me.  Maybe it is somehow linked to our survival instincts, i.e. when things are good and we are safe we should roam far and wide and gather food, etc. vs when there is danger, we retreat to a place that we know to be safe.

The problem is, our mind only perceives things, it rarely ever really knows things.  So, for example we only perceive that last job to be “not so bad after all” relative to the stressful situation you might find yourself in this moment. But in a moment of clarity, you might realise that there are so many different reasons why the current position is better and might help you move you closer to your goals.

So, I am trying to not let my mind play tricks on me, and I am going to try to plunge through that veil of false perception in those moments where I begin to demonise my current trajectory.

 

The Work is Never Done

I get that breakups are never easy, even when you are the one doing the breaking, but man, I wish that experience with breakups could at least count for something.

Wine doesn’t help.  In fact, it really does make things a whole lot worse, and I will be the first to confess to a couple of “raging bitch” moments this weekend.  Perhaps that is one thing I can keep in mind for next time (of which I hope there won’t be one but, you know, statistically speaking that is wishful thinking).

I also hate being “that woman” who does the breaking up but then proceeds to bawl through the entire process.  I feel those tears start to burn and I want to punch myself in the face.

And why are we even breaking up? I have absolutely no idea.

Maybe its the way he blows his nose in the shower, or chews with his mouth open, or his endless observations about the likelihood of the economy crashing so badly that we will all one day have to go back to subsistence farming.

Maybe.

However, in the scheme of things that constitute bad boyfriend behaviour, or “deal breakers”, these things don’t even make it into the ball park.

We get told all of the time that in order to be capable maintaining healthy relationships, we must be comfortable with being alone with ourselves.  I sometimes wonder if I have taken that concept far too literally and now find myself unable to sustain the company of another.  Or maybe it is something to do with that whole “loving yourself” caper.  I really did think I was all over that, but I have begun to develop and inkling of late that my initial conclusion on that point was flawed.

Someone told me recently also, that their therapist had brutally (albeit accurately) said to them “No one is coming to save you”.  I agree wholeheartedly with this statement, academically, I understand that we can only save ourselves, but despite that (and despite having literally spent days listening to Eckhardt Tolle and Alan Watts recordings) – I shamefully confess that deep down I think I secretly still thought my knight would come, and that I would be fixed and I would finally find happiness and then live forever after in soul-warming bliss.

I am disappointed to discover that my heart still is not on board with my head, and that there is still much work to be done.

I know of course, that the work will never be done.

Now I have unwittingly allowed another to get caught up in this mess, and suddenly I feel like I am back at square one.

I Quit Complaining

Yesterday was my 36th birthday.

It was just another Tuesday: morning workout, coffee & breakfast, work, sports massage (ok that was not a normal Tuesday activity), work, afternoon workout, play with dog, dinner, work calls, some personal development research, then bed.

With a few additional “happy birthday” calls and texts in between.

I spent the days leading up to my birthday just dreading the fact that is was coming.  Dreading how I was going to feel on the day.  Dreading the passing of another year and not feeling like I had achieved …whatever it is that I feel is in me to achieve in this lifetime.

But, the day just passed like any other day, and I didn’t feel depressed, nor exhilarated.  I just felt….neutral.  Which is normal I guess, after all, a birthday is just another day!

Yet I failed in my attempt to be mindful in this instance – because although on my birthday came and went without incident, I wasted literally days prior to it feeling anxious about:

being 36 and recently dumped single;

being 36 and still struggling to get on top of my finances;

being 36 never having achieved my goal weight/body composition;

being 36 and still living in the same city I was born in;

being 36 and still feeling nervous about my job;

being 36 and not knowing how to cook my mum’s infamous continental cake….

The list – invariably – goes on.

And when I reach the bottom of the list of things to worry about, I start right back at the beginning again.

So, despite all of my recent efforts to the contrary, observing where I am in my life without emotion and with acceptance, is still quite a challenge for me.

I am allowing my negative thoughts to strip me of my power.

I attended an Innovation event a couple of months ago and one of the presenters had developed an education tool on a gaming platform that teaches people in the workplace to identify hazards and how to rectify them. It was empowering people to be proactive and take responsibility for their own safety and that of the their colleagues.

The message stuck in my mind – it applies to so many areas in my life, but yesterday I decided to focus on just one, and I have decided to take action (and responsibility).

For the next month I QUIT COMPLAINING.

I will inevitably think of complaints, I’m sure, but the rule is that I am not allowed to utter a complaint and I hope that by consciously stopping the complaint from being audibly formed, I will automatically turn the complaint around, into a positive, or at the very least, “emotion neutral” reaction. I hope that I will be able to consciously just let it go.

Complaining is an empty, pointless activity.  It doesn’t solve a problem – though it certainly highlights them – but I think complaining is distinct from, say, constructive criticism.  Complaints lack any attempt to take responsibility for trying to fix the problem.

I complain a lot more than I should. Sometimes I regret the words the moment they pass my lips.  Sometimes I regret them before they pass my lips but I still allow them. It’s an awful feeling because I know it stems from envy:

If others have a better life than me, then at the very least they can feel sympathetic about the fact that my life isn’t as great as theirs.

It’s a “victim” mentality, really.  Logically I know that I – and I alone – am responsible for my life. When I’m complaining about it, I’m not solving whatever is upsetting me, but I am burdening others with my discontent, in that moment making it their responsibility to cheer me up.

Everyone has their stuff.

I am not special!

It has been said that it takes 4 weeks to form a habit.

1 month. 4 weeks. 30 days.

No complaints.

 

 

 

 

 

Mind Loop

I haven’t been writing a lot lately.  I have been keeping notes of things that I want to write about when I think of them, but I really haven’t had the chance – or the energy – to write.

I thought I had been busy living my life, I guess that was part of it.  Really, I think I was just “busy” scraping by, trying to keep my head above water at work, trying not to let G’s cooking and love of fine wine destroy my ability to enjoy the contents of my closet, trying to meet expectations (both my own and others).

It’s been 5 months since G and I got back together- 5 months tomorrow I think. And whilst my work life has been hell, my love life has been nothing short of blissful. We only dated briefly last year (have I even covered this at all yet? I don’t remember….) but we broke up after a few weeks.  Correction: I broke it off after a few weeks, because I thought we were on different pages, I thought he was rushing me.

We stayed friends and would have dinner once in a while, and I found myself enjoying his company immensely. Then in January we had a talk and he suggested we try again.  He said “We can be whatever we want to be”, and so we did.  I opened up a bit, let myself enjoy having a smart, caring guy to spend my time with. But this weekend past we hit a snag.  He was no longer feeling “it”. So while I am interstate this week, we are taking a “break”, no contact.  I have no idea what conversation awaits me when I get off the plane on Friday, but I have not had even so much as a “dog update” (he’s dog-sitting for me), nothing.  Just silence.

I’m not sure where I went wrong,  a couple of months ago he convinced me to let him book a holiday for us to New York in January, we’ve booked sporting events on the other side of the country in a couple of months time, making plans….

In any case, I figured it must be me.  Men seem to be so “gung-ho” at the start, when I am more cautious.  And just like the last guy (aka “the New Guy“) -who I admit, I have barely mentioned here…partly because he broke my heart and I didn’t want to be whining about yet another failed relationship, and partly because I wanted to try and take my blog in a different direction (who was I kidding?)- when I finally allow myself to believe that they really like me enough to make these long[er] term plans, I suddenly find them turning on their heels and running for the hills as fast as their legs can carry them.

So, again, I figure, it must be me.  There must be something about me that irritates people, or something about my character that once known, renders me unlovable.

Sure, I know I’m not perfect, I can get snippy sometimes, I can be quite emotional on occasion.  It’s been a tough few months for me career-wise, I have generally been feeling like a bit of a failure, and I confess I have been bringing it home after hours. So yes, I have been a bit sad, and insecure at times – but when I’m not talking about work I believe, I’ve just been my usual self. I can’t point at any one thing that I’ve done, or said that could cause such a sudden, drastic turnaround. 

Now, I know there are no guarantees in life or love. No one has a crystal ball, but surely, when someone is making plans with you for next January, you can expect that if something about your behaviour was bothering them, they would be willing to talk about it and work it through- not just immediately opt for the “break” (which is inevitably followed by a “break UP”), without warning.  I didn’t even know there was an issue until Saturday, and quite frankly, I STILL don’t know what the issue is because all I got was “I’m not sure why [I’ve suddenly gone off you]…”

So naturally, it must be a character flaw that I just haven’t cottoned onto yet.

And so it was, in my misery, after one very fitful flight, and two sleepless nights, in a city that is not my own, without even a dog to cuddle for consolation, I started…. Googling. 

*mental head slap* 

I know, I know….terrible idea, the WORST but I did it anyway- I figured it was better than giving in and calling him, or txting him or even worse: emailing him (my emails are much like my blog posts, long winded, excessively wordy and meandering – only, with less editing).

He asked for no contact, for once in my life, I’m going to respect that and stick to it.

Lying there on the hotel bed in my work clothes that I did not have the energy to get out of, I scrolled through websites on my phone. Through tear-blurred vision, I stumbled across a little website known as “Marc and Angel Hack Life“, and more specifically, onto a post entitled “10 Painfully Obvious Truths Everyone Forgets Too Soon“.

It was a good reminder of….well…10 painfully obvious truths everyone forgets too soon! 

But -the bit that caught my attention was #8 – “It’s not other people’s job to love you; it’s yours.” 

[Cue: ugly crying]

“Yep, heard that before” I thought to myself with a liberal dose of dejection “I guess I truly am unlovable then!”

Oh! the self pity – I was all but drowning in it!

And then I saw it.

The link to the self-help book. 

No.

Nonononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononononono.

YES!

I closed my eyes, and cringed (not that one would have been able to distinguish this from the abovementioned crying) as I clicked on the link, which took me to an Amazon.com page, which ended with me accepting the very reasonable Kindle price of $3.99 to purchase this by Kamal Ravikant  (disturbingly, the picture on the cover involved a silhouette of a man holding a gun to his head…but at that point in time it seemed appropriate…..come to think of it, I guess that’s the whole idea).

Once I started reading I knew instantly that I was going to like this book.

First of all, it’s only 68 pages.  Concise. So, I was going to get my answer to Life, the Universe and Everything, quickly. (Yes, I live in a society of immediate gratification, and I embrace it.  Don’t judge)

Secondly, on the first page of the Foreward he references TED. (I love TED)

What followed was mind-blowingly simple, yet seemingly, simply impossible.  A real, useable guide to learning to love oneself.

Not pages and pages and hundreds of pages of airy, fairy, touchy, feely gibberish and complicated exercises, that in themselves are so impossible to master that most people give up before they even really attempt them with any dedication.  Example: I have never been good at “converting” or “rewording” negative thoughts into positive ones. I cant even think of a simple example of that right now, that’s how bad I am at it.  And if I cant do the conversion that quickly before my mind moves onto the next negative thought thing, then its useless.  Even after practicing for a few weeks one time, it just didn’t come naturally to me.  Maybe it will become easier if I can manage to master being be a little kinder to myself.

Likewise: meditation.  I cant tell  you how many people have tried to explain to me how to meditate, and I just couldn’t.

But the practice that Kamal explained, was so simple and so obvious, that I couldn’t help but try it. 

It’s only been 2 days since I downloaded the book, and work has been insane – but its been so easy to do, and at times just focussing on that one thought, repeating the same notion to myself over and over again whenever I feel my thoughts drifting to something that generates fear and sadness, has helped to keep my emotions in check. 

AND I’ve actually been more productive at work than I have in weeks.

This is not a book review, and I’m not miraculousy “cured”. I am still very upset and frustrated about G and the situation we find ourselves in, but I also feel accomplished because I have been able to really focus on doing what needed doing, and I haven’t been obsessing over him, or “the talk” that awaits me when I get home (well, not as much as I would normally). 

It appears, that Kamal’s 3 point method, is a winner.

The key to the method is the Mind Loop, creating a positive “groove” with a positive thought.  Its easy but at the same time, difficult.  Difficult because it feels so natural to slip into negative thought patterns. 

Why is that? Why did I become that way in the first place? Why is it so much easier to grab and hold onto the criticisms, rather than embrace the compliments?

So, my Gratitude today goes to Kamal, and Marc and Angel for leading me to his book 

….and maybe even G for getting me to the point that made me Google…oh…. that’s a rabbit hole I do not have time for this evening, who knows where that little path will end- my birth??!

 

 

And so it begins, 2014….

OK so, 2013 was a tough year for me both professionally and personally.  Professionally I was being pushed beyond the boundaries of what I knew (which I considered to be a good, albeit, nerve fraying experience), pushed beyond my limits of what I considered sensible hours to actually BE working, and pushed beyond the safety net where others were around to rush to my defense and accept that sometimes I have to toughen up and stand up for myself. 

Personally, ohhhh….do we really want to go there? I only blogged a handful of times last year and even then most of the times they were a whine-fest.  But I as I always say, it’s my blog, and it really started out as being a bit of an online diary, like many, I suppose.  So, I am not going to beat myself up about having moments of weakness and allowing myself to get caught up in negativity, as long as its a healthy indulgence and not a spiral into self-loathing and man-hating.

So, as has already been discussed in a previous post (or perhaps many, I didnt go back and reread all of my 2013 posts, it was too cringeworthy), many of my friends fell pregnant and had babies last year.  All of the babies arrived safe and sound and I am happy to report they are all quite cute with some distinct personalities already showing, but I am genuinely not bitter and in fact, rather surprisingly, completely unclucky! 

Despite the [temporary] limitations on my social life and the fact that I miss my beautiful friends, I savor my freedom even more so now than I ever did. 

Which has consequently, made dating even harder because whilst the men I have met in recent months have all been very nice, kind souls, I have just found them to be …well…a little boring.  That sounds horrible I know, but its just how I feel. So I would spend my time running away from these men to be on my own and do my own thing.

Its strange that I have no real criteria (other than that they should be employed, non-smokers, and not living with their parents), yet I still haven’t found what I’m looking for (that wasn’t intended to be a reference to Bono but hey…it was a good line).

So that got me to thinking.  Over the past few years, I have whittled my “criteria” down to that short little list thinking that I was doing a good thing (for the guys as well as me), but maybe what it has done is prevented me from really thinking about and identifying what I AM looking for.  So there might be a little more thought going into that this year, I guess it’s hard for me to find the right guy if I’m dating every man that doesn’t cause my tummy to flip but who meets my appallingly short list of must-haves (or “preferable”‘s if that sounds a little more forgiving).

But most of all this year I am focusing on the following:

• learning to back myself (professionally and personally)
• spending more time with my parents
• talking to my sister more
• resisting the urge to feel guilty about things that I really don’t need to feel guilty about
• MINDFULNESS. Getting out of my own head and the thought spirals that lead to catastrophic thinking
• forgiveness

There is nothing in that list about my weight, or sporting aspirations, or money because whilst these too are things I will be attempting to balance better this year, I really think that If I can focus on the list, these things will happen anyway, because I will be happier and more content and will learn how to focus on the things that are truly important to me.

Of course, I will continue to be open to engaging with any new men that come on the scene too, but perhaps I might just pull back on the “searching” aspect.  People always tell me that you find love when you aren’t looking for it.  Quite frankly, I think that’s complete BS.  A few months earlier of course, those SAME people were telling me that if I don’t put the effort in, how am I expected to find it?

But I think there is a difference to being open to something vs. desperately seeking it or conversely, pretending that its not important to me at all.  Both of those latter scenarios give off the completely wrong vibe.

I already have a pretty great life, I dont think I need to take time out to focus on “me”, hell, I spend far too much time in my own head as it is… but I can focus on some key areas that I know will bring me more of what I already love in my life.

So, I guess I just made my 2014 resolutions?

Happy New Year lovely people, whoever/wherever you are.

 

 

 

 

 

Acknowledging the Good Stuff

I really did not want to turn 35 this year.

I know, it is childish, and really I should worry about things I can control instead of wasting energy and wrinkles on things that I can’t.

But even so, I REALLY didn’t want to turn 35 this year.

So, this week I’m making an extra special effort to focus on things that make me happy.

The list so far (in no particular order):

Tickling my dog’s chin fuzz after she has had a bath and is all fluffy and cute-smelling
Lindt chocolate balls
Perfume
Sleep-ins
Having my hair brushed
Freshly painted toenails
Maggie Beer’s Chocolate and salted caramel icecream
The way my dog’s tail starts to wag as soon as look at her, even if her eyes are closed and she was snoring just seconds earlier
The euphoria of finishing a hard workout
A clean house
Walking in the rain (on a contact lens- wearing day)
My mums vegetable soup (which nonsensically, does contain meat)
Cooking with my mum
Flowers
A glass of wine with friends
A view of the ocean
The way my dog’s face looks when I am lying down and she is standing over me, and all the skin on her face falls forward
Sharing a whisky with my dad
Pottering without a time schedule
Good hair days
Good SKIN days…facials
Pretty shoes that fit
Shoes generally…
Mel’s laugh

Not going to lie- I still want to crawl into bed and ignore the world for a few days, but focussing on nice things does help make the day bearable, albeit somewhat unproductive at work.

Just another blog post about being last…

Ok so this year, I turn 35. I am officially mid-thirties, and on the last rung before the slippery slide to forty. 

And friend #6 announced her pregnancy today. 

That’s 6 friends, all pregnant, all due about the same time. (Ok today’s announcement was more of an acquaintance but as all but one of my closest friends is indeed, up the duff, I figure I could include her in my tally).

And I, am officially the last single gal.

I’m not sure how I feel about that. First of all, why am I always last? I’m like Gretl freakin’ Von Trapp.  That line where she asks “why am I always last?” always used to get me, even as a child- because I did always seem to be last, and I totally understood how she felt. Move over morose middle child, being the youngest isn’t all kittens and sunshine either!

Growing up I experienced a lot of lasts.  I was the last one to be picked on sporting teams (thanks, lack of hand-eye-coordination!).  I was the last to know about any birthday parties (and I suppose it should be noted, I never had one myself).  I always came second to my elder sister in hacking and showjumping (heck, I was usually plain last in showjumping anyway!). I was the last of my friends to kiss a boy.  I was the last of my friends to become a woman (urgh I hate that phrase). So far as I know, I was the last to have sex.  I was the last to finish my studies. I was the last to travel overseas. 

However, I was the first to get my pen license in grade 3, but then I moved schools and upon showing up to my first day with a pen (not thinking anything untoward, I had after all, been writing with it for 6 months by then), my new teacher swiftly removed it from my possession.  That I had the audacity to assume I could continue to write with INK before she herself had decreed it so, clearly convinced her that her new pupil was of a rebellious nature and needed to be taught a lesson  She then proceeded to make me earn my license back all over again with the rest of the class, and just to make sure I got the point-  you guessed it…I was last!

So, in the last few years my friends have slowly, one by one, met, fallen in love with, and (in all but a couple of cases) eventually married their lifelong partners. That didn’t really change much by way of our friendships, I must admit.  Sure, sometimes I felt a bit like the odd one out when I’m the only one at dinner without a partner, but I was always thankful that I never seemed to be seated at the end of the table like some kind of outcast. 

But this is different.  First of all, in one fell swoop, I have lost my social life. No more pub/wine bar action, no more girly soirees over red wine and chocolate (ok I guess the chocolate is still on the list).  Two weeks ago I was on my way home after finishing my Saturday activities and I suddenly had the urge to go out somewhere.  After two very long work weeks, I was in the mood for maybe a vino and some dancing, some live music and perhaps a flirt with a bartender, but a quick scroll through my phone revealed that in fact…there was no one to call. I had no wing[wo]man.

It’s not unreasonable for this to have happened of course.  We are, after all, in our mid-thirties, but naive as it may have been of me to not forsee this, I just didnt expect ALL of my friends to drop out of my social life at the same time. 

And I am sad.  I am sad that all of my friendships have now changed forever.  I am sad -and a little annoyed- that I wasn’t more prepared.  In About a Boy, Marcus, even at the age of (12?) recognised that you need backup, and sure enough, here I find myself, devoid of such.

I realise this does make me sound like an immensely selfish individual.  Yes, I realise that my friends lives and families are not about me, but this blog is, so please, do try to keep up.

Dont misunderstand me, I am extremely happy for all of my friends who are about to embark on a very exciting new chapter in their lives. I’m super excited about being ‘cool aunty Serene’ again, and I genuinely cannot wait to meet all of the new arrivals.  For those who simply refuse to divulge gender (you know who you are) I am simply DYING to know so I can go crazy with the online shopping (my credit card is newly paid off and ready for action!). 

And those feelings are entirely separate from the fear that suddenly has its vice-like grip on my stomach and heart. 

Furthermore, it turns out that with the intgration of online dating into modern society, it turns out that it is actually much easier to get a date, than it is to make a new friend to hang out with on a Saturday night.

But I don’t want a date.  I want someone(s) who I can laugh with, cry with, share my fears with, and dance like a lunatic with and share stupid stories with and whinge to…all without the pressure of having to decide if I want a “relationship” with that person when the evening is over, or having to spend the entire evening thinking up the best way to let them down gently.

This is not an unusual circumstance, a quick Google of something along the lines of “last single girl” or “all of my friends are married with children”, raised countless results of blogs, forum posts and Yahoo questions all uploaded by people in the midst of a massive panic attack, upon realising that they are the last one, who are suddenly desperate to seek verification that they aren’t freaks, and that this doesn’t mean they are destined to be alone forever. 

If I wasn’t so goddamned petrified myself, I would be reading these hastily typed queries and marvelling at how desperate they sound.

These people have been left behind- through no fault of their own, or their peers – with no hope of even some good natured girly backup on a night out to blow off some steam and share a few glasses of bubbly, laugh off their fears of turning 40 with a collection of cats, whilst pretending not to entertain a heavily repressed hope that a chance meeting at the bar, or in the taxi queue, might be the critical turning point to set them on the right track to blissful coupledom.

A few months ago, I would have confidently reassured myself that I had plenty of friends and that this would simply never happen to me.  There would always be someone still sufficiently childfree to call upon.

But as luck would have it, I find myself experiencing that well worn path of being last….again.

Only, I don’t have an Uncle Max to reassure me that it’s just because I am the most important.

And even if I did, I don’t think that explanation would really fly at my age.  I mean realistically, nothing makes you more aware of your relative insignificance, than being left behind.

So, in honour of my beautiful friendships, which are now altered forever, I apologise in advance if my behaviour in the next 6 months resembles some of this:   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G_Z3lmidmrY

I am hoping that I will have worked my way through most of the stages before the bundles of joy arrive!

Hello Morning!

Image credit: efired / 123RF Stock Photo

There is something to be said about the briskness of a cold, clear winter morning…  The way the icy air catches in your throat when you first step outside…  The way it instantly jolts you awake and stings your eyes just that little bit… The way the quick under your fingernails tingles….

Ok, so, technically it’s only Autumn and this of course, is coming from a woman who lives in Australia so, this “icy” air is probably closer to a balmy spring day for those who live in much colder climates- hey, it was definitely below 10 degrees (Celsius), OK?!]

I woke up early this morning, having used a new alarm system.  I downloaded the “Sleep Cycle” App on my iPhone.  I’m sure it’s a load of rubbish but I really like the sound of the alarm (I’m currently on “Forest Glade”) and how it oh-so-gently brings me to consciousness.  It’s just less of a shock to the system if you ask me, and a much more pleasant way to wake up.  I’m sure there are other alarms that I could have downloaded for free and saved myself $0.99 but I was curious about what the App was supposed to do.

Nevertheless, my eyes still felt just as grainy as they always do, and I was still tempted to put my head back to pillow after turning off the alarm, like I always do.

But I didn’t. 

I had promised the dog an early morning walk, having spent too much time in the kitchen last night after my gym workout, and not wanting to venture out at 9pm by which time my quads were definitely protesting.  She didn’t seem to mind, we played with a tennis ball in the hallway for 15 minutes and I have some lovely scratches on my arms today to show for it.

A couple of years ago I was an enthusiastic morning person.  I LOVED getting outside before the sun was up and getting the blood pumping. In recent times, I have simply fallen out of the habit, I got lazy. I had forgotten how lovely it is to be outside so early in the mornings.  To see the sun rise and the world slowly wake up. It is dark in the mornings now until after 6:30am, but I have missed that early morning outdoor silence, the comfort and freedom that comes with knowing that you are unlikely to have to pass too many strangers who awkwardly look ahead or at their feet as they approach-rather than simply smiling and saying ‘hello’, the feeling of already being wide awake- before you switch on the coffee grinder (or step into the shower), that secret smugness you carry with you until well into the day knowing you’ve had a “great start”.

I know it seems strange to reacquaint myself with early morning during the colder, darker months of the year but that appears to be what I’m doing this year.

…And I’m loving it.

Hello Mornings!

Frown Upside Down

Wow, what a week!! I have had a headache for days, my brain has been firing on all neurons and in complete overdrive, hours spent in bed have been prolonged but sleep has been sketchy (and not in a fun way either! Hmph).

There have been one or two things ticking along over the past couple of months but I will not bore you will many irrelevant details. 

Let me begin this story at: last Friday.

Last Friday, I woke up in a happy place, it was a day off and I had a relatively chore-free day ahead.  I went to my training session, kicked a** in that, totally pumped despite the ridiculousness of the early hour for a day off.

I raced home to pull together the last of my PhD papers so I could drop them into the project manager and chew the fat over what’s been happening the past couple of years since my departure.

I sent The Crush  an upbeat text to say that I have cleared my calendar for the ONE weekend he was (apparently) free to see me over the next month.

And then, things started to crumble around me.

I got a phonecall on my work phone.  I didn’t answer the call because I was driving, but once I arrived at my destination I retrieved the voicemail, in case it was something I needed to attend to immediately.

It was from TC’s ex-wife….only, as it turns out, she isn’t his ex-wife, she’s his current FIANCÉE! 

I received a text from TC saying that she was going to call and that what she was going to say wasn’t true.

In a daze, I attended my meeting, though I’m not sure I really heard a word of what was said, my brain was too busy reliving every interaction with TC over the past 14 months, the excuses, the cancellations, the grand gestures when he was able to make time for me, the promises, the discussions about moving in together, the secrecy over where he lived, the seemingly honest error in the address he had given me days before (turns out his street didn’t exist- and even then I STILL did not assume he was lying- I thought the MAP was out of date!!!)

When I got out of the meeting, I tried to call him but no answer. 

Well, that’s not a good sign.

His fiancée had asked me to call her, but I didn’t want to talk to her, I wanted to hear it from HIM.

Finally, about 5 hours later he called. And he admitted it all.  He was engaged to someone else, he had been the whole time, they had been having problems, blah blah blah, same old cliché. 

His feelings for me were real.

He never meant to hurt me.

Irrelevant really, when he had knowingly lied to me for over a year and had put me in the position of being “the other woman”. 

Here I was again.

You think I would have learned to read the signs after the whole Mr X debacle.

But I guess it’s true that your perspective really does get skewed when your feelings are involved.

I haven’t spoken to him since.  I’ve received a few text messages, and some flowers but I really don’t know what I’m supposed to say to him.  I can’t forgive him for that lie- he knows that- but anything else I might say just makes me sound like a complete B**** and I don’t want that either.  I think silence is just the best right now, plus, one thing I DO know from experience is that until the anger hits (which it hasn’t yet), talking to him is likely to just make me sad and pathetic and then I probably will forgive him and somehow find a way to make it my fault.

But I feel really weirdly calm.  When I found out aboutMr X’stransgressions years ago, and when it all came to a head, I really flipped out in private.  I threw things, I cried hysterically, I punched the pillows, I cowered in corners, I would burst into tears in the middle of a task and sink to the floor in sobs. I wrote novels describing my feelings, I wrote about 13 letters to him that I never sent, I read and re-read years worth of text messages which I could never bring myself to delete.  I would listen to his voicemail messages over and over again until the phone company deleted them.

I was rendered truly useless for months.

But not this time. This time I’m just getting on with things, thankful even, for the fact that I now know the truth.  Thankful for the days that I wont waste waiting around for a man who will be spending it with someone else and telling me he had to work.

Fast forward to yesterday, when I attended a BBQ at my bestie’s place and – as pre-warned- Mr X  arrived with new Ms X and Baby X.   The first time I had laid eyes on him since sometime in 2009.  I knew they were going to be there, and I really thought it wouldn’t affect me at all.  After all, I’m totally over him- aren’t I?

WELL.

I’ll be honest. It really did feel like a kick in the gut. People were talking to me, I could see their mouths moving but for about a good half hour, all I could do was nod and smile, and try not to openly stare at her or the baby.  Didn’t help that she was stunning, the baby…well, he was cute in his own way but the snide cow inside me assured me that our baby would have been cuter.  When someone quietly (and jokingly) pointed out that the baby was blonde and was he sure it was really his? A teensy tiny little piece of me seriously wanted to consider that possibility.  But I squashed that thought pretty quickly. That’s just mean and besides, fair hair or not (which we all know can grow dark as one gets older), he did have some distinctly Mr X features. 

I feel good though, I didn’t cry, not even when I got home.  I didn’t get all mopey, but wow my chest still had that familiar ache that it always got around him after we went our separate ways. 

Some things you just never get over completely, I guess. 

At least I wasn’t ducking behind the BBQ to avoid him.

Finally, the last bit of drama for my week (I hope!) I resigned from my job today.

I was so nervous. I have had a fantastic offer from another company and it’s a really exciting opportunity.  But I honestly do love the people I currently work with and I am very sad to go.  I was so concerned they would feel like I was leaving them in the lurch, that I was betraying them somehow (as my previous employer was want to do).  But they were amazing, genuinely excited for me, but disappointed to see me go.

What a relief!

As B said today, after surviving this past week, I can survive ANYTHING.

Nevertheless, it took some awesome violet lipstick and a cracking dress to help me face this day, but I think the worst is over. 

I emerge from this week triumphant and bearing a genuine smile.  I refuse, REFUSE to let this week’s events drive me into a man-hating haze, even though I did have a strong desire on Saturday to knee every man I saw in the you-know-whatzits. 

But I am better than that.

Poised, even 😉

And I have the best of friends to keep me sane.

1 Person, 9 Personalities

I am on the cusp of some very big, potentially life changing news! The waiting is torture.  Excruciating even, but I hope I won’t have to wait too much longer.  My life lately has pretty much revolved around this little piece of news for the past few weeks, it’s all I can think about.  Perhaps I shouldn’t place all my hopes and dreams on one thing that may or may not, become a reality for me soon, but I can’t help it.  For now, it’s my little rainbow, glinting in the distance.  Nearer in my field of vision are my friends and loved ones who will still be there for me if I am faced with disappointment, the people who give my life substance.

But I can’t stop my tummy from doing a little flip when I think about the potential changes to come, and what opportunities that in turn might bring, and it makes me smile to think of it.

On the man front, I am still seeing The Crush, though I still doubt if we truly understand the needs of the other.  His inconsistencies confuse me to the point of hair-pulling at times, and I find my patience drawing extremely thin and the rollercoaster of the “highest high’s” and “lowest low’s” thoroughly exhausting.

But, I continue to loiter in this space, for the moment.

25 May 2012…that’s my deadline.

A somewhat arbitrary-but-not deadline I decided upon yesterday.

It is quite frightening that I now see the similarities between myself and my Ex, M.  Perhaps I am now at the point that he was (except for the desperately wanting a baby part), and I can kind of understand is inability to be flexible about his wants and needs.

For better or worse, I now find my resolve hardening when I think about what compromises I’m willing to make.  At the most basic level, I cannot accept a relationship where I am the one making ALL of the compromises.

I can’t help thinking that there has got to be something better. Surely there is a relationship out there for me that isn’t riddled with countless disappointments in the first year.

Which leads me to the Enneagram – an almost complete stranger sent me a book on this recently, and without even reading the majority of the other personality types, I knew without a doubt that I identified most strongly with Type 4- The Romantic.

Disclaimer: I’m not about to start basing my entire existence on the theory behind this personality test – or any personality test for that matter- as though it is the answer to all my problems. I must admit though, that I was reading it I did have flashbacks to a Scientology personality test I once did many moons ago – before I knew what it was.  (I of course walked out of there in disgust after they basically told me I was a manic depressive who could basically implode at any moment, and by the way I should spend a month’s rent on some books and classes to help me find my path). So, I tend to take these things with a grain of salt. However, I suppose I could view this as a tool, like any other that people might use to cope with their lives at various stages of development.  A tool, that can perhaps assist me personally to identify where my dissatisfaction stems from (and to take comfort in the realisation that I’m obviously not the first!) and make positive changes to overcome these negative thought processes.  I certainly wouldn’t condone it’s use to pigeon hole me as a person or to use it as a scapegoat for justifying bad behaviours as the Catholic World Report seems to believe (and they are most welcome to their opinion of course). My opinion is that I find these studies interesting, and I see no reason why they cant be useful when applied in a logical and level-headed manner.  Life is not black and white.  In a world of quick fixes, political correctness, lack of accountability and/or transferrance of responsibility: be discerning. Take the teachings that are useful to you to help you progress your journey to being a good person and finding your happy place. Don’t hurt others in the process.

This is a colorful gradient version of the Enneagram figure or diagram. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

(ahem). Sorry about the tangent.

Soooo, Type 4.  No, that does not mean I am all rose coloured glasses and love hearts (though my Facebook page might suggest otherwise on that latter point), but if this blog has taught me anything about myself, it’s that I do find it difficult to be content with the present and I am often dwelling on (and ok, “romanticising”) the past, or dreaming about some point in the future when things will be ultimately better.  Everyone does this to some extent, I know, but not always to the point, it seems, where such thought processes sabotage their ability to be happy in the present, as it would seem to do for me, if I’m being completely honest.

Case in point, this very post began with me idealising some potential change to the point where I’m almost convinced that should it occur, will make me happy and fix all of my current woes!

OR perhaps that isnt it at all.  Perhaps there just IS something better waiting for me than what I have experienced to date, and that when I find it I will be able to calm down just a little bit: be thankful for my past, content with my present, and anticipate my future.

(sigh) Ok, so I have some work to do, but first, some personal research and I’ll report back on that soon.

In the meantime, I am pleased to report that I managed to avoid the chocolate frenzy over Easter, but I am currently 4 cookies into my day and it’s only 9:33am.