I am feeling better. I have an IPHONE!!! I went out drinking and dancing with a superb conversationalist til 4am. Then downloaded iphone applications til 5am. A friend's phone call woke me at 10am. He gave spontaneous invitation to Vic Markets and Aquarium shop.
Now I'm wanting a sleep but my domestic chaos and imminent arrival of one of my oldest friends means I must stay upright!
Onwards and upwards!!
Thanks for bearing with me.
Saturday, 19 September 2009
Thursday, 17 September 2009
Baggage & Confusion
I can't do my job properly because of my open wounds. My brain's not working properly because its' toxic tide is still washing out. All sorts of useless thoughts are getting in the way of my necessary work. It's these kind of experiences that bring up my feelings of doom and hopelessness. And now there's fucking opera on my reliable classical radio station. I hate opera. The tick-tocking cat is also driving me mad, but he has brought in some dollars over the last week. Maybe I'll move him to the other window for the next few hours. I'm so angry at myself I feel sick. I flick through books looking for clues to my dilemma. I feel my heart racing. I get more upset when I realise that if I'm so under-evolved, there's even slimmer chance of romance being just around the corner. I really have hit an oil spill of negativity. I am going to abort this post now and listen to one of Russ Harris' meditations.
I'm embarking on a new phase in my career and I should be heartened and excited by the opportunities. Instead I feel totally incapable and don't trust myself, AT ALL. I want to throw the computer out the window and the feng shui cat against the wall.
At least there's rain outside. I love the rain. It's even more enjoyable now that I have a car. It's not really my car. That's another item I can switch across to the negativity column. I hate my brain. I really don't know why it does this, especially in the face of opportunity.
I've just put on Erik Satie music to try and calm me. A while ago as something soothing to get me back into my work, I made a cup of Chai. I think it's giving me allergies.
I'm embarking on a new phase in my career and I should be heartened and excited by the opportunities. Instead I feel totally incapable and don't trust myself, AT ALL. I want to throw the computer out the window and the feng shui cat against the wall.
At least there's rain outside. I love the rain. It's even more enjoyable now that I have a car. It's not really my car. That's another item I can switch across to the negativity column. I hate my brain. I really don't know why it does this, especially in the face of opportunity.
I've just put on Erik Satie music to try and calm me. A while ago as something soothing to get me back into my work, I made a cup of Chai. I think it's giving me allergies.
Tuesday, 15 September 2009
Giving Up
My horoscope is telling me that I may be experiencing feelings of wanting to give up. It seems to be spot-on, despite being wrong about all things romance for the previous 9 months.
I've lost my confidence and want to go to bed. I don't want to do anything to fix it. I'm over it. I've been crying. I've been wondering what I live for? I've been wondering how much longer I can put up with my mediocrity and lack of material goods to distract me from my mediocrity. The main problem that has caused me all this anguish is a profound lack of confidence in my abilities. Abilities to do with work and the craft that I have perhaps stupidly chosen.
I just had a Skype chat with a friend to garner her feedback on the project that is causing me nausea. She cheered me up, or rather, the fact that I was able to make her laugh somehow cheered me up and reaffirmed my reason for being alive on this planet. Am I defined by other people? I have complete lack of confidence in my purpose and capabilities. Atrocious timing. Couldn't be worse. Once again I've made mistakes on this project and it hasn't even properly started yet. I'm afraid to say that I've experienced some fairly suicidal thoughts today. I have no idea why my brain indulges in such pessimistic and self-loathing thoughts. I was wondering today what makes people happy and feel purposeful in their lives? Having people to love and care for? Such as a partner or children? That seems an obvious solution. I have friends and family to care for but the thought of working to survive to simply contribute to other people's happiness feels a bit of a weak argument for living at all.
Basically I think the whole work thing going pear-shaped is perhaps my brutal wake-up call for not working hard enough.
And yes, the BG's recent reappearance was brief. Apparently the universe doesn't think I'm fit for romance yet. Pretty close to giving up I am, can't even be fucked with the washing-up tonight. Should I indulge such belligerence?
Did I mention the incessant tick-tocking of the feng shui waving cat might be what is driving me mad?
Friday, 11 September 2009
xoxox / semantic titillation
Well BG is back from outer space. Or rather, he made a brief touchdown. I had an epiphany about why he may have been out of touch and it compelled me to chase him with a cop-out but albeit caring sms. A heartening couple of electronic exchanges later, I am buoyed by his e-love. But, really, can I count on an unprecedented number of xoxoxo's to buoy my mood and future romantic prospects? But, I tell you what, if this supposed relationship ever takes off and is consummated - it will be the biggest of bangs! I don't think I've ever desired someone more (as a mature* person anyway).
However, my intelligent younger sister just pointed out "but he's not very good at keeping in contact is he?"
No, no, he's not. But I still want to devour him. In some bizarre act of post-rationalisation I think his minimal contact and/or slow but 'clear' advances are good for me. I am forced to cultivate self-confidence in the absence of romantic affection. And in my ideal ensuing relationship, I will maintain my emotional and physical independence. But I still need regular cuddles and a jolly good shag.
Feeling so much better about my work as of the last day and a half. Nothing's really changed except my confidence has resurfaced. The challenge is to get and stay immersed so that self-criticism can't reach the light.
Had another epiphany earlier this week too: that a haircut was urgently in order. Despite fiscal challenges (I'm truly getting on top of it, I am!), I decided a haircut was non-negotiable. I am a terrible wearer of long hair. As of this evening I have a reliably short 'do'; but lets wait and see if it improves my life or not. Life's not that bad anyway, I guess. The waving feng shui cat is ticking and spring has sprung. Rent has gone up but I am a lucky bird.
BTW, in totally uncharacteristic television consumption, on Wednesday I inserted Disc 1 of The Staircase series whilst I cooked dinner. 8 x 45mins later, it was 4am and I had been gripped by series from end to end. I've never done this before. Masterful filmmaking (and extraordinary access to the subject matter). Can I make something like this one day? I hope so. Better log-off, wash-up and let my brain attempt such feats.
Good night and good luck.
*biological age only.
However, my intelligent younger sister just pointed out "but he's not very good at keeping in contact is he?"
No, no, he's not. But I still want to devour him. In some bizarre act of post-rationalisation I think his minimal contact and/or slow but 'clear' advances are good for me. I am forced to cultivate self-confidence in the absence of romantic affection. And in my ideal ensuing relationship, I will maintain my emotional and physical independence. But I still need regular cuddles and a jolly good shag.
Feeling so much better about my work as of the last day and a half. Nothing's really changed except my confidence has resurfaced. The challenge is to get and stay immersed so that self-criticism can't reach the light.
Had another epiphany earlier this week too: that a haircut was urgently in order. Despite fiscal challenges (I'm truly getting on top of it, I am!), I decided a haircut was non-negotiable. I am a terrible wearer of long hair. As of this evening I have a reliably short 'do'; but lets wait and see if it improves my life or not. Life's not that bad anyway, I guess. The waving feng shui cat is ticking and spring has sprung. Rent has gone up but I am a lucky bird.
BTW, in totally uncharacteristic television consumption, on Wednesday I inserted Disc 1 of The Staircase series whilst I cooked dinner. 8 x 45mins later, it was 4am and I had been gripped by series from end to end. I've never done this before. Masterful filmmaking (and extraordinary access to the subject matter). Can I make something like this one day? I hope so. Better log-off, wash-up and let my brain attempt such feats.
Good night and good luck.
*biological age only.
Tuesday, 8 September 2009
My Carpophobia
Defined merely as the irrational fear of veins and wrists. The experiences and effects of this phobia can range very widely depending on the individual. Just the thought of the underside of the wrist can make sufferers thrust their wrists away from them or become nauseous. Some even have trouble writing with their wrists exposed.
I have had a conscious fear of the underside of wrists from about the time I was 14. At least I don't have Ithyphallophobia (fear of erect penises).
I remember needing to pull down my jumper over my wrists as I did written exams in the Queensland summer.
I remember feeling sick when I put my watch on (only in the last month).
I remember my siblings hysterically shoving the underside of their wrists in my face, once they'd cottoned on to my fear.
I remember not being able to fully look at a friend's new tattoo.
Talking about the inner side of wrists makes me squeamish.
I always avoid looking at or talking about wrists.
I can very easily look at the top side of my wrist, but even seeing an inner wrist in my periphery makes me nauseous.
I'm also nauseous about BG. He's officially disappeared. I innocuously made contact. No response as of yet. Sickening. Confusing. Self-loathing is coming at me hard and fast.
A few months ago I looked alright. I had short hair. Now I have long hair and a spotty complexion. A few months ago I felt loved by BG. Now I'm in an ice bath, confused.
The biggest fright and disappointment is the potential inaccuracy of my intuition. I thought this was one of my strengths. If I am wrong I am absolutely and violently furious at my brain. How could you lead me astray like that? Brain?! What made you do this? If it was totally baseless and you've misinterpreted all that sweetness and love, why did you do as such? Have you got a lesion? Are you seriously malfunctioning? Are some of the electrical pulses misfiring? Fuck you brain. How do you expect me to respect your thoughts when you took me down the garden path as such? It really is truly depressing.
I guess there could be some reason for his absence. There you go brain, indulging invented excuses again. Is this pure truth and instinct or is it mindless delusion? Why should an ostensibly intelligent person like me fall victim to such irrationality? I wish I could drain my brain of such nonsense daily. A bit like a dialysis, but perhaps more expensive. A male friend who knows BG a bit better than I, said I should reach out to him, that he is hopeless and probably moping and wondering why Ms OK hasn't been in touch. I love the hopeless boys. It's pathological. I waste time awaiting his correspondence. When will I ever learn? How can this be love if I'm such a nutcase?
This morning I had a very unsettling experience. I phoned a colleague who is 25 years my senior. At home, he didn't sound well. I said as such and then asked of what kind of ill he was experiencing? He responded: "I suffer from depression". It was so raw and highly unusual to have someone admit to suffering depression when they're in the 'black'. If it was me I wouldn't have answered my phone. I would have made light of my dysfunction if I truly had to take the call. I wouldn't have said it as plainly and simply. But I'm proud of him. How brave. Now I have a better understanding of him. It's strange though, because although not a taboo it is a very private matter. I couldn't share it with anyone, so instead I just carried it with me all day and sent him an sms this afternoon. He is feeling a bit better. Went to the gym. Out of serious concern, I did phone a mutual colleague who has known him for 30 odd more years than I and all I could say or wanted to reveal was "Have you spoken to him today? He's not well. He didn't sound too good". "Not good in the brain" I had to clarify. I certainly didn't pass on the same perfunctory statement "he is suffering from depression". Was this out of respect or am I perpetuating a cultural taboo?
I have had a conscious fear of the underside of wrists from about the time I was 14. At least I don't have Ithyphallophobia (fear of erect penises).
I remember needing to pull down my jumper over my wrists as I did written exams in the Queensland summer.
I remember feeling sick when I put my watch on (only in the last month).
I remember my siblings hysterically shoving the underside of their wrists in my face, once they'd cottoned on to my fear.
I remember not being able to fully look at a friend's new tattoo.
Talking about the inner side of wrists makes me squeamish.
I always avoid looking at or talking about wrists.
I can very easily look at the top side of my wrist, but even seeing an inner wrist in my periphery makes me nauseous.
I'm also nauseous about BG. He's officially disappeared. I innocuously made contact. No response as of yet. Sickening. Confusing. Self-loathing is coming at me hard and fast.
A few months ago I looked alright. I had short hair. Now I have long hair and a spotty complexion. A few months ago I felt loved by BG. Now I'm in an ice bath, confused.
The biggest fright and disappointment is the potential inaccuracy of my intuition. I thought this was one of my strengths. If I am wrong I am absolutely and violently furious at my brain. How could you lead me astray like that? Brain?! What made you do this? If it was totally baseless and you've misinterpreted all that sweetness and love, why did you do as such? Have you got a lesion? Are you seriously malfunctioning? Are some of the electrical pulses misfiring? Fuck you brain. How do you expect me to respect your thoughts when you took me down the garden path as such? It really is truly depressing.
I guess there could be some reason for his absence. There you go brain, indulging invented excuses again. Is this pure truth and instinct or is it mindless delusion? Why should an ostensibly intelligent person like me fall victim to such irrationality? I wish I could drain my brain of such nonsense daily. A bit like a dialysis, but perhaps more expensive. A male friend who knows BG a bit better than I, said I should reach out to him, that he is hopeless and probably moping and wondering why Ms OK hasn't been in touch. I love the hopeless boys. It's pathological. I waste time awaiting his correspondence. When will I ever learn? How can this be love if I'm such a nutcase?
This morning I had a very unsettling experience. I phoned a colleague who is 25 years my senior. At home, he didn't sound well. I said as such and then asked of what kind of ill he was experiencing? He responded: "I suffer from depression". It was so raw and highly unusual to have someone admit to suffering depression when they're in the 'black'. If it was me I wouldn't have answered my phone. I would have made light of my dysfunction if I truly had to take the call. I wouldn't have said it as plainly and simply. But I'm proud of him. How brave. Now I have a better understanding of him. It's strange though, because although not a taboo it is a very private matter. I couldn't share it with anyone, so instead I just carried it with me all day and sent him an sms this afternoon. He is feeling a bit better. Went to the gym. Out of serious concern, I did phone a mutual colleague who has known him for 30 odd more years than I and all I could say or wanted to reveal was "Have you spoken to him today? He's not well. He didn't sound too good". "Not good in the brain" I had to clarify. I certainly didn't pass on the same perfunctory statement "he is suffering from depression". Was this out of respect or am I perpetuating a cultural taboo?
Saturday, 5 September 2009
Cosmopolitans & Feng Shui
Desperate, in email correspondence with a friend I mentioned my disgraceful financial situation. I've known her and been close for several years now, but only last night she revealed an incredible gem.
CLOSE YOUR TOILET LID AND BATHROOM DOOR FOR GOOD FENG SHUI!!! Don't let your money go down the toilet!
Tonight I'm onto my second homemade Cosmopolitan. Ha! I have an incredible sense of abundance despite physical evidence to the contrary. This morning I awoke with the impetus to contact BG. To say: Hi, how are you? But I haven't yet. Despite feeling so much better about his absence the last few days, this morning I uncomplicatedly felt inspired to email him. The saga continues perhaps... but I haven't yet followed through with this thought. Wait another day.
What a delight to have Cosmopolitan ingredients in the house. My dear aunt gave me a bottle of vodka to mark my 30 years on the planet. I already had some dregs of Cointreau on the shelf (as of tonight exhausted) - so all I had to do was buy some cranberry juice, lemons and pull out the glasses. I love cocktails. They are an icon of happiness. Albeit, terribly Western and indulgent icon of happiness, I know.
I'm steaming the last of my brown rice. I've designed new solutions to tackle my lack of concentration and creative productivity. Will put them into action once I've tired of the Cointreau-less Cosmopolitans.
CLOSE YOUR TOILET LID AND BATHROOM DOOR FOR GOOD FENG SHUI!!! Don't let your money go down the toilet!
Tonight I'm onto my second homemade Cosmopolitan. Ha! I have an incredible sense of abundance despite physical evidence to the contrary. This morning I awoke with the impetus to contact BG. To say: Hi, how are you? But I haven't yet. Despite feeling so much better about his absence the last few days, this morning I uncomplicatedly felt inspired to email him. The saga continues perhaps... but I haven't yet followed through with this thought. Wait another day. What a delight to have Cosmopolitan ingredients in the house. My dear aunt gave me a bottle of vodka to mark my 30 years on the planet. I already had some dregs of Cointreau on the shelf (as of tonight exhausted) - so all I had to do was buy some cranberry juice, lemons and pull out the glasses. I love cocktails. They are an icon of happiness. Albeit, terribly Western and indulgent icon of happiness, I know.
I'm steaming the last of my brown rice. I've designed new solutions to tackle my lack of concentration and creative productivity. Will put them into action once I've tired of the Cointreau-less Cosmopolitans.
Friday, 4 September 2009
Money, money, money
Mood has been questionable. Went to kinesiologist and felt emancipated. On a positive note the kinesio session has cleared out some (but not all) BG anguish. I'm no longer stalking him.
I'm broke. Beyond belief! This has caused me much stress in the last 24hours. I don't have much, there's a lot of things I need, but I am sensing the positive effects of my morning yoga routine!
Work brain is troubled. I know what I have to do to improve my skills and learn more and yet I'm not doing it. Could it be as easy as the yoga routine? Better go to bed now. Have appointment with life coach at 9am!!
Tuesday, 1 September 2009
Hope?
Depressed? Think I might be tonight. Possibility has slid down the drain.
I know I need to get better at my vocation. Even If that might only take a whiff of effort, it feels out of reach.
The wave I was riding has just hit the shore. I don't know what to do. A life with sufficient funds and productive workload feels insurmountable. I want to wake up a better person.
On a positive note, my routine of washing-up and bed-making has become pathological. Maybe one day I will be a better person? If I can improve my domestic habits, surely my professional competencies, financial management and man-delusions are just another frontier?
I know I need to get better at my vocation. Even If that might only take a whiff of effort, it feels out of reach.
The wave I was riding has just hit the shore. I don't know what to do. A life with sufficient funds and productive workload feels insurmountable. I want to wake up a better person.
On a positive note, my routine of washing-up and bed-making has become pathological. Maybe one day I will be a better person? If I can improve my domestic habits, surely my professional competencies, financial management and man-delusions are just another frontier?
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