I don’t deal well with stress apparently. But at the same time I think I just do it to myself. Yet I can’t seem to stop. Around October of this past school year I started having bizarre health issues. My eyes get all crazy bloodshot and I get horrendous headaches that last until I sleep a day away, I have strange tight chest, difficult to breathe, heart pounding type of situations. The first time the latter happened I thought maybe it was just worry or anxiety. Apparently this was the right guess. The second time it happened I ended up in the hospital all hooked up to various machines. This resulted in some tests and well, it looks like I don’t have a heart condition but in fact I am an anxiety fiend.
So I have taken some steps to help myself. I have a regular workout routine that I have been sticking with. For awhile I cut out all caffeine and stimulants. I’ve tried eating healthier, yoga etc. However, the fact remains that while on my summer vacation I am still feeling some anxiety.
For example, there are some things I need to do for work. I really need to do them. But I can’t seem to get up off my butt to do it. I sort of spend my day lazing around and thinking about the stuff I have to do, making a plan, and then not doing it. This isn’t just regular laziness either...it’s like a strange mental block. I just can’t do. The longer this goes on, the worse it gets. Every day I get up and think that I will accomplish some of what I have to do. Then I don’t...then I stress, then my heart starts to pound...and I sleep for a good four hours. And I get mean - probably because I feel badly about the fact that I’m not productive.
This is the other recent problem. I don’t sleep well. I can only sleep in three or four hour bursts. And it seems that I can only sleep well during the day. I don’t have a lot of interest in anything. I feel bored, yet there is nothing specific I want to do. I feel apathy, but at the same time wish I didn’t. I get frustrated with not doing anything, yet..I’m not motivated to do anything.
Short of being committed I really don’t see a solution in the near future. Time will continue to pass and I will get more stressed out by the day. I am currently finding it frustrating that the word caffeine is being underlined by my spell check. Yet I think that I have spelled it right. I need to get into the school because of a t-shirt ordering fiasco. And that has me so worried I can’t sleep.
Why do I allow myself to be all stressed out? Why do I procrastinate and make it all worse for myself? Why do I continually need to learn these lessons? Grrr. Usually a list makes me feel better. I make a list and then I can cross things off of it. I feel success then I get some of the things done. But right now, I can’t even bring myself to write a list. There is something smelly in my kitchen and I looked for it. I can’t figure out where it is coming from so I’ve given up. The smell in the kitchen is stressing me out.
I was wondering if I need some sort of medical/institutional intervention so I looked up my symptoms on the internet. This is always a good idea if you are already prone to being anxiety ridden. Look it up, because then you can have a whole new list of things to worry about. So I did. Yep, according to the internet I am anxiety-ridden and likely need to be medicated. Henning doesn’t think I should be medicated; he thinks that would just give me more to worry about.
I’m frustrated with people who say things like: “Just get it done” “Oh Katie life is too short, seriously” or something like “snap out of it”. If it were that easy, I’d be doing that. I’m not an unmotivated person; I’m not a slacker or someone who doesn’t meet their commitments. But I simply can’t get it together this time. I’m going to let people down.
I think I’ve been totally burnt out. I was hoping that after four or five weeks of vacation I might be able to feel uplifted etc. apparently not. Furthermore, I am sitting her with the smell in the kitchen wafting past me and getting really upset that I can’t find the source of the damn stench. I sense a total bleaching in the cards. I just hope I can get motivated to do it.
I confess, I’m a crazy person. Maybe, with the amount of summer vacation left I might get my head on straight and find my inspiration or motivation to get things done.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Crap
So, I haven’t written in awhile. I have realized that sometimes I just don’t have anything interesting or inspiring to ponder. I would love to be one of those people who can blog every day and have something significant to contribute to the world but alas, I understand my limitations. That’s not meant to be depressing or self-deprecating. I might just be going through a mid-life crisis. Today I am reflecting on a myriad of topics. I’m actually not sure that I can pull them together into a sort of engaging epiphany that is my usual style of blog. Ah well. Perhaps today I am just not at my best.
I think the first thing that I am pondering is that I only have so many topics that I think about and that I need to express in order to work through. Honestly, if you have read my blog at all, you pretty much have the sum total of what I think about on a regular basis. Well, excluding current pop culture and Star Wars analysis – but no one really wants to read about that. So really, the total of my thoughts can be summed up rather simply:
1. How can I improve my physical appearance, or accept what I’ve got?
2. Money Sucks and by extension so does everything that costs me money.
3. Talking myself into believing that I am above my past history.
Throw in a few references to education and rants about bureaucracy and you have the total of what I think about. I’m not sure how I feel about that. In some ways it makes me feel a bit shallow or at the very least a bit boring.
I visited a web site today during my dull vacation (see 2). It was called Right To Play (http://www.righttoplay.com/site/PageServer) Anyway, it is a neat organization that tries to help developing nations with difficulties such as HIV/AIDs and education through the use of sport. Evidently there are many Olympic athletes involved with this charity. One can volunteer to work with this organization. It looked really cool. Anyway, I mention this because I’m interested even though I am not into a specific sport. However, recently I have longed to be an athlete (see 1). I just thought this site was really cool and I’ve been thinking all day about a way to incorporate it into some of the things I teach. For example, with the push for character education initiatives surely getting the school involved with a group such as this would be exciting. I think though that I am a bit jaded because when I think of all the red-tape involved with getting involved with an organization such as this...(insert rant about bureaucracy here) Ah well, check it out.
Another focus I have had lately is The 30 Day Shred. Here is someone else who describes it well (http://ashisfit.blogspot.com/2008/07/30-day-shred-review.html). If you search around on the internet you can find some before and after pictures that demonstrate that this video really works. I can tell you that it is killer, but that it is a fantastic workout. You actually do see results fairly quickly. However, it is not for those who want results with little effort. This baby is something you have to be ready to do. You will hurt and you will seriously sweat. You can’t do it half-assed. I love it. Seriously. And I loathe working out, but this makes me feel powerful. Hey, I’m all about the praise and the challenge. If you are competitive like me you will find that this video makes you want to prove you can do it. In about 15-20 days or so I may have the courage to post my before and after pictures.
This is one of my more unfocussed posts. However, I recently found out that my Dad has to go in for more heart tests and procedures at the end of August. This stresses me out significantly. I’m trying desperately to cope better with stress but lately, even though I am on vacation I am not dealing with these things well. Between worry about that and the concern about the work I have to do before school starts I am starting to feel ill. I am also going to miss important parts of the week before school starts because I am going to accompany my family to these tests. I am not complaining about being there for my Mom and Dad when they need me, not at all. That is what I have to do. Let’s face it if I wasn’t there, I wouldn’t accomplish much those days anyway, because I’d be worried. I just have to be prepared to accept that there are things that I am not going to be able to participate in or complete during the week before school. I need to not feel personally responsible for that. Life and family comes before my job...and I can’t ,or rather, shouldn’t feel badly when important things in my life mean that I can’t complete /participate in things at work in a perfect way. However, just thinking about that gets my heart-rate up and I start to feel the beginnings of anxiety. Obviously, I need better coping skills.
For my last unfocussed moment, I just watched a home alarm system commercial. Talk about fear inducing. There is a home, and expensive home in a nice neighbourhood somewhere in the states. This home looks like something that only a high-powered executive could afford, or a dual – income family where both breadwinners are doctors. It is obviously landscaped by a gardener. The husband leaves for work and sets the home alarm. A suspicious looking guy dressed in a black workout suit, with a buzz type haircut waits outside for the husband to leave. Once the husband has done so and the Stepford wife and her perfectly coiffed daughter have a quiet moment, the suspicious criminal kicks down the door and the alarm goes off. Thanks to the alarm the mother and daughter can run up the stairs to answer the phone and tell the alarm company what has just happened. The criminal is scared away by the loud noises and all is well. I wonder how often this happens. Talk about selling fear. I won’t even get into the underlying messages in this commercial. Oh okay I will. How about the fact that in this upper class neighbourhood even the criminals are white males who are athletic and well coiffed? How about the fact that the people living in this home definitely fit the rich suburban white stereotype? People who make less money and who live in smaller, more modest homes are not at risk for home invasion by the way. Interestingly enough people who are not white who live in this area are not at risk for home invasion either. Oh, and by the way, apparently this alarm system will contribute to your family being well adjusted and happy...no yelling at the breakfast table. Furthermore, this is an American company. Why would you need an alarm system...don’t they all own guns to protect their property? (Bad, bad blogger and Michael Moore fan.)
Do you see what 1, 2, and 3 has led to?
I think the first thing that I am pondering is that I only have so many topics that I think about and that I need to express in order to work through. Honestly, if you have read my blog at all, you pretty much have the sum total of what I think about on a regular basis. Well, excluding current pop culture and Star Wars analysis – but no one really wants to read about that. So really, the total of my thoughts can be summed up rather simply:
1. How can I improve my physical appearance, or accept what I’ve got?
2. Money Sucks and by extension so does everything that costs me money.
3. Talking myself into believing that I am above my past history.
Throw in a few references to education and rants about bureaucracy and you have the total of what I think about. I’m not sure how I feel about that. In some ways it makes me feel a bit shallow or at the very least a bit boring.
I visited a web site today during my dull vacation (see 2). It was called Right To Play (http://www.righttoplay.com/site/PageServer) Anyway, it is a neat organization that tries to help developing nations with difficulties such as HIV/AIDs and education through the use of sport. Evidently there are many Olympic athletes involved with this charity. One can volunteer to work with this organization. It looked really cool. Anyway, I mention this because I’m interested even though I am not into a specific sport. However, recently I have longed to be an athlete (see 1). I just thought this site was really cool and I’ve been thinking all day about a way to incorporate it into some of the things I teach. For example, with the push for character education initiatives surely getting the school involved with a group such as this would be exciting. I think though that I am a bit jaded because when I think of all the red-tape involved with getting involved with an organization such as this...(insert rant about bureaucracy here) Ah well, check it out.
Another focus I have had lately is The 30 Day Shred. Here is someone else who describes it well (http://ashisfit.blogspot.com/2008/07/30-day-shred-review.html). If you search around on the internet you can find some before and after pictures that demonstrate that this video really works. I can tell you that it is killer, but that it is a fantastic workout. You actually do see results fairly quickly. However, it is not for those who want results with little effort. This baby is something you have to be ready to do. You will hurt and you will seriously sweat. You can’t do it half-assed. I love it. Seriously. And I loathe working out, but this makes me feel powerful. Hey, I’m all about the praise and the challenge. If you are competitive like me you will find that this video makes you want to prove you can do it. In about 15-20 days or so I may have the courage to post my before and after pictures.
This is one of my more unfocussed posts. However, I recently found out that my Dad has to go in for more heart tests and procedures at the end of August. This stresses me out significantly. I’m trying desperately to cope better with stress but lately, even though I am on vacation I am not dealing with these things well. Between worry about that and the concern about the work I have to do before school starts I am starting to feel ill. I am also going to miss important parts of the week before school starts because I am going to accompany my family to these tests. I am not complaining about being there for my Mom and Dad when they need me, not at all. That is what I have to do. Let’s face it if I wasn’t there, I wouldn’t accomplish much those days anyway, because I’d be worried. I just have to be prepared to accept that there are things that I am not going to be able to participate in or complete during the week before school. I need to not feel personally responsible for that. Life and family comes before my job...and I can’t ,or rather, shouldn’t feel badly when important things in my life mean that I can’t complete /participate in things at work in a perfect way. However, just thinking about that gets my heart-rate up and I start to feel the beginnings of anxiety. Obviously, I need better coping skills.
For my last unfocussed moment, I just watched a home alarm system commercial. Talk about fear inducing. There is a home, and expensive home in a nice neighbourhood somewhere in the states. This home looks like something that only a high-powered executive could afford, or a dual – income family where both breadwinners are doctors. It is obviously landscaped by a gardener. The husband leaves for work and sets the home alarm. A suspicious looking guy dressed in a black workout suit, with a buzz type haircut waits outside for the husband to leave. Once the husband has done so and the Stepford wife and her perfectly coiffed daughter have a quiet moment, the suspicious criminal kicks down the door and the alarm goes off. Thanks to the alarm the mother and daughter can run up the stairs to answer the phone and tell the alarm company what has just happened. The criminal is scared away by the loud noises and all is well. I wonder how often this happens. Talk about selling fear. I won’t even get into the underlying messages in this commercial. Oh okay I will. How about the fact that in this upper class neighbourhood even the criminals are white males who are athletic and well coiffed? How about the fact that the people living in this home definitely fit the rich suburban white stereotype? People who make less money and who live in smaller, more modest homes are not at risk for home invasion by the way. Interestingly enough people who are not white who live in this area are not at risk for home invasion either. Oh, and by the way, apparently this alarm system will contribute to your family being well adjusted and happy...no yelling at the breakfast table. Furthermore, this is an American company. Why would you need an alarm system...don’t they all own guns to protect their property? (Bad, bad blogger and Michael Moore fan.)
Do you see what 1, 2, and 3 has led to?
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Thoughts of MJ.
It was not warm enough to have not put a coat on to go out for recess. Yet some of the older kids were walking around in the early spring sun in only thin cotton t-shirts. I held my skipping rope hoping that some of the girls would want to play with me, include me in their games. I couldn’t play double-dutch. I wasn’t good at it. But I could play all the other rope games. The fact that I had my own rope means they would have to let me play.
A tall boy, definitely at least in grade five came around the corner. He had a large silver-grey old-style boom-box on his shoulder. Everyone was following him. It was like the pied piper. The music that echoed throughout the schoolyard was inspiring. It was catchy. The songs told stories. In that moment, as I followed the sounds of Thriller , I became aware of music.
Later I danced to Thriller for my grandmother. I blasted that music on my small red tape-player that lasted me until university. I remember pepsi commercials. I had a blue and black tracksuit from k-mart that resembled the jacket that MJ wore in Thriller. I remember that video being one of the most fantastic things I had ever seen. It was terribly frightening for someone my age, but I still forced myself to watch it in awe.
The song We Are The World was the song that first impressed upon me the need to have a social conscience. It was a magical demonstration that made me, as a child, feel like the world was a good place.
Although later in my life I found out that Michael Jackson had terrible misfortune befall him, demonstrated some eccentric behaviours, and allegedly was a predator. I still feel that he was a part of my development. His music is something I hear and I remember my childhood. I smile.
For today, as I watch the memorial I will silently thank him for that spring day, when I was included as part of a group, inspired by the same music. The day I didn’t have to ask to play.
A tall boy, definitely at least in grade five came around the corner. He had a large silver-grey old-style boom-box on his shoulder. Everyone was following him. It was like the pied piper. The music that echoed throughout the schoolyard was inspiring. It was catchy. The songs told stories. In that moment, as I followed the sounds of Thriller , I became aware of music.
Later I danced to Thriller for my grandmother. I blasted that music on my small red tape-player that lasted me until university. I remember pepsi commercials. I had a blue and black tracksuit from k-mart that resembled the jacket that MJ wore in Thriller. I remember that video being one of the most fantastic things I had ever seen. It was terribly frightening for someone my age, but I still forced myself to watch it in awe.
The song We Are The World was the song that first impressed upon me the need to have a social conscience. It was a magical demonstration that made me, as a child, feel like the world was a good place.
Although later in my life I found out that Michael Jackson had terrible misfortune befall him, demonstrated some eccentric behaviours, and allegedly was a predator. I still feel that he was a part of my development. His music is something I hear and I remember my childhood. I smile.
For today, as I watch the memorial I will silently thank him for that spring day, when I was included as part of a group, inspired by the same music. The day I didn’t have to ask to play.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Waiting
My car is sick. I mean that in the literal sense of the word, not the cool modern sense of the word. It is an SUV – so it is definitely NOT cool. It sort of makes me a soccer mom with one small problem, I have no kids.
Anyway, I bought this vehicle approximately seven years ago. When I bought it I wanted it. I thought that it was cool. I had always wanted an SUV. And hey, I lived in Bancroft, close to Algonquin Park and I wasn’t one of those crazy people who buy big SUVs and live in the city. I need the all wheel drive and ability to avoid ditches and tow stuff. The fact remains that when I bought it, I couldn’t afford it. This is why I’ve had to pay it out over an extreme amount of time. And it is also why car repairs freak me out. I still have an awfully high car payment that makes it difficult to pay for fixing. Now, given that the vehicle is approximately 7 years old, it is due for a round of repair...and I will start noticing that I will have to put more and more money in to my silver beast.
The good news is that I make my last enormous car payment in October – so I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. The bad news is that the car is in pretty rough shape. Currently, it threatens not to stop when I brake. Okay, it just doesn’t stop well. It sort of haltingly comes to a stop. This is a clear indication that I need a brake job...at least in the front end. Someone told me when this started that it was just a warped rotor. However, I am concerned that having left it so long has resulted in a seized or broken calliper. In fact, when I turn right and use the brake there is an unpleasant sound that resembles speaker feedback. That is the sound that worries me the most.
I tend to be a car hypochondriac. Every sound and bump worries me. So I take it in, and while it is in, I worry excessively about how much it will cost. Truthfully, I have a fantastic mechanic. It is a small family run business who bills you for your repairs at the end of the month and who know you by what you drive. I called this morning and said “Hi it’s Kate Cockburn calling” and the mechanic replied, “Ahh and you have a Santa Fe.” Then I tried to explain the halting stop and the feedback sound and I always feel really silly doing that. I think that mechanics should video tape people describing what is wrong with their vehicles. I’m sure that I would star in several of them – it could be a t.v. show like America’s funniest home videos.
Anyway, now I sit here. The car has been at the shop since 8am. It is now 1pm. I feel like an anxious parent or family member waiting for someone to exit surgery. I’m not sure if the surgery will work or if the someone will be able to function like they once did. This car is something I use every day; it allows me connection to the outside world, namely, the city; movies and shopping, visiting friends. To me it is a lifeline, not simply a luxury item. It is also the first big item I was able to purchase all by myself. Even if it was a poor financial decision, the car and I have history. I even have accepted the fact that the car will not ever be able to be a traded in. It is far too beaten up to ever get my money out of it. I’m sure that any car dealer that saw it coming would wonder how the hell they would ever be able to get it off the lot.
But it is mine. The beast is mine. It is a symbol of my adulthood. It is also a symptom of my adulthood. It is the reminder to always call my father before I spend a bunch of money on something. As much as I hate to admit that I have to do that...this adult knows where her weaknesses are. It is one material possession that straddles my two very distinct life paths. It has been part of an end and it has helped me have new beginnings. It has moved people out of my life and into my life. This vehicle has known two incarnations of me. It not only is my lifeline, but it is also a monument, a history of my travel into my adult life. So, really, why am I so worried about cost of repair? I have weathered far more expensive moments. So I will wait in anticipation, because repair, whatever the monetary cost will only serve to allow my car to valiantly drive me into my future. Perhaps one day it will realize its image and I will have car seats and soccer balls, ice-cream stained seats and goldfish crackers on the floor. Or, maybe it won’t. Maybe it will be like me...unsuspected, not what you think. Following a different road to get to my destination – because, that makes all the difference.
Anyway, I bought this vehicle approximately seven years ago. When I bought it I wanted it. I thought that it was cool. I had always wanted an SUV. And hey, I lived in Bancroft, close to Algonquin Park and I wasn’t one of those crazy people who buy big SUVs and live in the city. I need the all wheel drive and ability to avoid ditches and tow stuff. The fact remains that when I bought it, I couldn’t afford it. This is why I’ve had to pay it out over an extreme amount of time. And it is also why car repairs freak me out. I still have an awfully high car payment that makes it difficult to pay for fixing. Now, given that the vehicle is approximately 7 years old, it is due for a round of repair...and I will start noticing that I will have to put more and more money in to my silver beast.
The good news is that I make my last enormous car payment in October – so I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. The bad news is that the car is in pretty rough shape. Currently, it threatens not to stop when I brake. Okay, it just doesn’t stop well. It sort of haltingly comes to a stop. This is a clear indication that I need a brake job...at least in the front end. Someone told me when this started that it was just a warped rotor. However, I am concerned that having left it so long has resulted in a seized or broken calliper. In fact, when I turn right and use the brake there is an unpleasant sound that resembles speaker feedback. That is the sound that worries me the most.
I tend to be a car hypochondriac. Every sound and bump worries me. So I take it in, and while it is in, I worry excessively about how much it will cost. Truthfully, I have a fantastic mechanic. It is a small family run business who bills you for your repairs at the end of the month and who know you by what you drive. I called this morning and said “Hi it’s Kate Cockburn calling” and the mechanic replied, “Ahh and you have a Santa Fe.” Then I tried to explain the halting stop and the feedback sound and I always feel really silly doing that. I think that mechanics should video tape people describing what is wrong with their vehicles. I’m sure that I would star in several of them – it could be a t.v. show like America’s funniest home videos.
Anyway, now I sit here. The car has been at the shop since 8am. It is now 1pm. I feel like an anxious parent or family member waiting for someone to exit surgery. I’m not sure if the surgery will work or if the someone will be able to function like they once did. This car is something I use every day; it allows me connection to the outside world, namely, the city; movies and shopping, visiting friends. To me it is a lifeline, not simply a luxury item. It is also the first big item I was able to purchase all by myself. Even if it was a poor financial decision, the car and I have history. I even have accepted the fact that the car will not ever be able to be a traded in. It is far too beaten up to ever get my money out of it. I’m sure that any car dealer that saw it coming would wonder how the hell they would ever be able to get it off the lot.
But it is mine. The beast is mine. It is a symbol of my adulthood. It is also a symptom of my adulthood. It is the reminder to always call my father before I spend a bunch of money on something. As much as I hate to admit that I have to do that...this adult knows where her weaknesses are. It is one material possession that straddles my two very distinct life paths. It has been part of an end and it has helped me have new beginnings. It has moved people out of my life and into my life. This vehicle has known two incarnations of me. It not only is my lifeline, but it is also a monument, a history of my travel into my adult life. So, really, why am I so worried about cost of repair? I have weathered far more expensive moments. So I will wait in anticipation, because repair, whatever the monetary cost will only serve to allow my car to valiantly drive me into my future. Perhaps one day it will realize its image and I will have car seats and soccer balls, ice-cream stained seats and goldfish crackers on the floor. Or, maybe it won’t. Maybe it will be like me...unsuspected, not what you think. Following a different road to get to my destination – because, that makes all the difference.
Friday, July 3, 2009
May I return...to the beginning
I’ve stated before that every moment in my life has led me to exactly the point I am now. I would not want to change where I am now. I like it here. Granted, I tend to take the long way or the hard way round to get to my goals, but I eventually do get there. Hopefully, the journey has made all the difference. I know for a fact that I am a better person now than I was in my twenties, and I am definitely better now than I was in my teens. When I say better, I mean that I treat people better and think about my actions before I act...usually.
There are some incarnations of myself in the past that I would rather forget. However there are also aspects of my past self that I would like to recapture. I would like to possess the fearlessness I had when I was a kid. I would like to look at a chain link fence and feel confident about attempting to climb over it, instead of walking around. I wish for the courage to hop a creek. So what if I get wet. It’s like I’ve been conditioned to over-think things now. I would like to be more carefree...I would like to be able to wildly party like I could in my university days. I want to want to party or let loose. Now a reckless evening involves staying up way too late watching a movie, reading a book or playing my video game.
I would not want to revisit some of my less flattering hair experiences. Or my late Goth phase. In retrospect, you don’t start looking funny costuming yourself as a dark minion of evil when you are 26. You (okay I can’t speak for everyone, I) look funny doing it anytime over about 20. I have to give kudos to my parents on that one...they knew it but didn’t say anything. I don’t ever want to be someone who doesn’t value themselves again. I am proud that I learned that you have to demand to be valued by others. I think the most important thing I learned from my past selves was that I have no one to blame for how I’ve been treated by others but myself. One can blame circumstances, other people, other people’s personalities or shortcomings, other people’s flaws...or the ‘natural’ state of something. But the fact remains that it is you who made the decisions that lead you to be treated badly.
That’s not to say that I think that people who have been violently victimized cause their own trauma. But in terms of relationships with friends or lovers, people will treat you at the standard you accept.
This is why often the past can make people angry. Usually one focuses this anger on a person, like an ex-friend or ex-boyfriend. I find this is very true in large social groups. It is easier to be angry with the person who treated you badly. I’m not saying that there isn’t some blame due in that direction if someone has wronged you...but, if they have wronged you repeatedly and you were unable to see that you were selling yourself short...it results in misplaced anger. That anger manifests itself as obsession, gossip, and all sorts of behaviour that in reality is – you treating yourself badly. And that is unforgiveable. Behaving in a way that makes you feel like you are a bad person means that you are not holding yourself to a decent standard of care. I am guilty of this still sometimes.
But my journey the long way round has taught me some important things. I can hold myself to a standard of behaviour, a set of morals that allow me to meet my definition of a good person. I’ve learned that when dealing in financial matters ‘want’ cannot overpower what actually is your financial reality. And, if you let it, you end up in a long term mess. Similarly, if you allow people to take too much of yourself, lend out too many pieces of yourself – it takes a long time to pay yourself back. I guess learning these things has resulted in the cautiousness I practice when faced with a chain link fence or a creek. The fearlessness is tempered with experiences and what you are willing to risk changes. You recognize that although hopping a creek should be easy, you know if you misstep you will have to sit in your wet clothes...and perhaps get a rash. I don’t think I deserve a rash.
There are some incarnations of myself in the past that I would rather forget. However there are also aspects of my past self that I would like to recapture. I would like to possess the fearlessness I had when I was a kid. I would like to look at a chain link fence and feel confident about attempting to climb over it, instead of walking around. I wish for the courage to hop a creek. So what if I get wet. It’s like I’ve been conditioned to over-think things now. I would like to be more carefree...I would like to be able to wildly party like I could in my university days. I want to want to party or let loose. Now a reckless evening involves staying up way too late watching a movie, reading a book or playing my video game.
I would not want to revisit some of my less flattering hair experiences. Or my late Goth phase. In retrospect, you don’t start looking funny costuming yourself as a dark minion of evil when you are 26. You (okay I can’t speak for everyone, I) look funny doing it anytime over about 20. I have to give kudos to my parents on that one...they knew it but didn’t say anything. I don’t ever want to be someone who doesn’t value themselves again. I am proud that I learned that you have to demand to be valued by others. I think the most important thing I learned from my past selves was that I have no one to blame for how I’ve been treated by others but myself. One can blame circumstances, other people, other people’s personalities or shortcomings, other people’s flaws...or the ‘natural’ state of something. But the fact remains that it is you who made the decisions that lead you to be treated badly.
That’s not to say that I think that people who have been violently victimized cause their own trauma. But in terms of relationships with friends or lovers, people will treat you at the standard you accept.
This is why often the past can make people angry. Usually one focuses this anger on a person, like an ex-friend or ex-boyfriend. I find this is very true in large social groups. It is easier to be angry with the person who treated you badly. I’m not saying that there isn’t some blame due in that direction if someone has wronged you...but, if they have wronged you repeatedly and you were unable to see that you were selling yourself short...it results in misplaced anger. That anger manifests itself as obsession, gossip, and all sorts of behaviour that in reality is – you treating yourself badly. And that is unforgiveable. Behaving in a way that makes you feel like you are a bad person means that you are not holding yourself to a decent standard of care. I am guilty of this still sometimes.
But my journey the long way round has taught me some important things. I can hold myself to a standard of behaviour, a set of morals that allow me to meet my definition of a good person. I’ve learned that when dealing in financial matters ‘want’ cannot overpower what actually is your financial reality. And, if you let it, you end up in a long term mess. Similarly, if you allow people to take too much of yourself, lend out too many pieces of yourself – it takes a long time to pay yourself back. I guess learning these things has resulted in the cautiousness I practice when faced with a chain link fence or a creek. The fearlessness is tempered with experiences and what you are willing to risk changes. You recognize that although hopping a creek should be easy, you know if you misstep you will have to sit in your wet clothes...and perhaps get a rash. I don’t think I deserve a rash.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Rainy Day Vacation Ramblings...or a computer, some chips and some coke.
Most of the female friends I have are hard on themselves. I'm not really surprised, people tend to attract people they have something in common with..and well, I'm hard on myself too. For example, I spend an awful lot of time worrying about the way I look. Call it vanity. That, after all, is what it really is.
I worry about my size and by extention my weight. I worry about my size to the point that I am concerned about the size of my head. That may seem really strange, but whatever body dysmorphic problem I have, it seems to focus on two places - my head/jaw and my butt. I admit that I practice taking pictures of myself to find the exact angle that my head does not look huge. (I am briefly reminded of a Mike Myers film...look at the size of his noggin...it's huge ) Seriously. Like most women I know, I worry about the size of my butt.
Lets talk about my butt for a minute. It is decidedly difficult to find pants that fit my butt well. But is that really my butt's issue...or is it the fact that very few clothing designers create pants made to flatter the curves of women who have ass-sets? I hear this complaint often. It seems that unless one is 16 years old and hipless, pants were not made for you. So, this again brings me to the idea that because sooo many women complain of this problem, and we spend only one or two years of our lives with the bodies of 16 year olds, my butt should be absolved of all charges.
After all, it does it's job. I can sit on in comfortably, it boogies well on a dancefloor, it looks somewhat sexy in lingiere..and it does all of the biological things that butts do. It has smooth soft skin...why would I complain about my butt. Seriously. Why would I let clothes make me feel bad about my unique physique - the physique that I have been told by people is attractive.
Now, perhaps these people are lying. I mean let's face it, all of us answer our friends and say, "what are you talking about, you look great.." or some other phrase when someone is being self-depricating. Do people really always look great? Or have we now desensitised ourselvess so much to the question that we can't answer it honestly? I am going to hope that it is really the case that everyone looks great. I was recently at a party where a woman was wearing a provocatively short skirt. She had fantastic legs...and a fantastic ass-set. In fact when she bent over or some wind caught her skirt you were able to see exactly how glorious her legs and rear were. I want to wear clothes with abandon...without worry...I want the confidence to claim my short skirt, show off my ass-sets and hold my head up proud. (Okay maybe not to that extreme...as I am a teacher and showing off my ass-sets is not appropriate - but a skirt above the knee...a swimsuit in public would be good steps)
I am 33 years old...and I look HOT. Seriously. I look at other people who are around my age and I think, wow I look awesome. I have a strong body. I have a curvy body. I have parts of my body that look better than some 16 year olds. I know how to dress my body for its best parts. I haven't had kids so I haven't had to deal with the body fallout from that...and I know from talking with friends of mine who are parents that you look at your body differently when you have children. I haven't had children, I might not ever have children. I need to feel good about my non-reproducing 30 some odd year physique and be proud.
I am not Jennifer Garner or Angelina Jolie. My livelihood does not rest upon my red carpet appearances. So, I should not feel that I have to work out 4 hours a day minimum and eat only raw foods. My living is made mainly from my brain...so I need to start working it out...and THINKING. So, I guess I even need to appreciate my big head which houses my big brain. Maybe I should take pictures that emphasize my enormous head...embrace it...own it...
Hey world this is my awesome big head.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Procrastination and Cleaning
The truth is that I despearately need to clean my house. I feel better when it is clean. I'm happier...I feel like life is in control.
However, I cannot seem to bring myself to clean the damn thing. Seriously. I'm going to have to work naked because I simply can't bring myself to do laundry. I'm likely to get some sort of disease from my kitchen. :(
*sigh* Well perhaps I will rise from my mound of filth and write again.
However, I cannot seem to bring myself to clean the damn thing. Seriously. I'm going to have to work naked because I simply can't bring myself to do laundry. I'm likely to get some sort of disease from my kitchen. :(
*sigh* Well perhaps I will rise from my mound of filth and write again.
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