Journey of Perfection

Laying in bed one night I had an epiphany. All of my best thinking seems to be done in bed at night.  Much to my desire to sleep's disgust.  I have taken to writing my thoughts down in a notebook or typing them into the notes section on my Iphone.  It certainly makes for better sleep and I remember my awesome ideas the next morning. 
 

Every night when I go to bed, I have plans to conquer the world the next day.  Suffice to say that I am definitely a night owl and am at my best and horribly worst in the late hours of the night.  I do my best writing and thinking after 10pm.  It's not always positive and it's not always productive.  Which is why I feel the need to write things down.  I need to get them out of my head.
 

The epiphany I had laying in bed one night was about perfection.  Perfection is something I think about a lot.  It's a source of guilt for me, as I am sure it is for a lot of people.  Always striving for that elusive perfection.  Then I got to thinking, when you get to the state of perfection..what then?  What comes when you reach the peak?
 

Then it hit me. We shouldn't be striving for perfection, we should be striving to learn from our journey. Perfection means that we have reached our destination, we stop moving.  Imagine going through life and not learning because well you think you have learnt all there is to learn.  Reaching perfection means that we don't feel the need to strive anymore.  It is kind of an anti climax.  Perfection is never really what we envision it to be. 
 

I hope that I never reach perfection. That I am never to the point where I feel there is nothing new to learn.  I hope that I will always be hungry for new knowledge. I hope that I will always be asking questions, looking for the information to satisfy the desire to learn.  I hope that it is something that we don't lose as each generation passes.  With so much at our fingertips now, I hope that it's not taken for granted. 
 

When are you at your best? Do you feel the hunger to continue to learn?

Self Worthless

I've  been thinking a lot lately...yeh, yeh I know it's dangerous but sometimes we have to do it, you know to be a grown up and all that.  What I have been thinking about in particular is the correlation between what we think about ourselves, deep down and how we conduct ourselves.
 

I don't think particularly high of myself. I have gotten past the point of completely worthless but only by a couple of points.  I still don't feel the love for myself, and it was kind of like an 'aha' moment laying in bed the other night that made me realise just how much it manifests itself into my life. How it shows in the things that I do and how I treat things.
 

One of the 'joys' of Borderline is that I tend to put people up high, above myself. This gets me into trouble and it puts me in the position of not realising when people are just rotten.  I am so eager to please, that I fail to see the shit people do and brush it under the rug because that is what I deserve. Then I look around, realise that I am losing the people who aren't shit and it's confusing. Something that I am working on, learning to trust my judgement and not feel that I am the only one to blame when a relationship goes sour.
 

This feeling however doesn't just extend to interpersonal relationships and how I portray myself to others. It also has an effect on how I take care of my possessions.  It hit me the other day that I take care of things that other people have bought me better than I do the things that I have saved and bought myself.  I even have the subconscious thought that it's mine so it doesn't matter.  A thought that I have about myself often. It's only me, what does it matter. 
 

I write my decisions off, I don't put my thoughts forward and just kind of go with the flow.  I pretend that it doesn't matter.  I want better for myself but I'm just not sure if I deserve it.
 

Do you suffer from the 'not good enoughs'? What do you do to make yourself feel a bit of worth?

Hiding in the quiet

Do you know what it's like to have too much noise in your head? When the world is too noisy and there is nothing you can do to quieten it?  You listen to music to try to block it all out, but it just makes you feel worse.  You feel agitated and messy. Nothing is right.  Everything is annoying.  You can't quite put your finger on what it is that is wrong.
 

The world is too hard, too harsh. It is easier to lock yourself away, to pretend it doesn't exist. You crave contact, but it's too much. You feel constantly on edge because you have concocted in your head a story that is more fantasy than fiction.  You imagine what everyone is thinking, saying. Laughter is meant for you, you become agitated, ready to snap at the first person who dares to look at you the wrong way. 
 

Waking is too hard. Your head is constantly heavy. It's easier to have your eyes closed. Easier to pretend that there is no one else there. Everyday is a blanket over your head kind of day. It feels too hard.  Simply getting out of bed feels like an effort. An effort that you struggle with.  An effort that you wonder if it's worth it. 
 

Have you walked on the beach, in the soft sand with thongs full of sand, up a hill? It's a struggle. Your body aches and you aren't sure if you can keep going.  That is what it's like everyday. Just when you think you are near the end, another hill appears. You want to give up but even that seems like too much effort. You look around, notice all of the mess piling up around you, knowing you should do something about it. Knowing that there is nothing that you could possibly do about it.
 

You can see the parts of your life that are suffering, know that there are things you should be doing.  You can't quite do it.  It's easier this way. But it's not.  Even keeping up a conversation is too much. You stay polite. Hiding away as soon as you get home. Keeping correspondence to messages and social media.  Plastering on a smile. Pretending you aren't dying inside.  

You want to walk away and never look back. Your finger is on the button. You want to make the call but know it will be pointless. Really. You need time out, time to gather yourself. Time where you don't have a little person to answer to. Time where you have no one but yourself to answer to. Time where you can just put the blanket over your head. Admit defeat and start rebuilding yourself.
 

Admitting it is the first step...it's all uphill from here.

Blame Game

The trouble when you have to do a life cull is that you really notice the shitty behaviour of people that you surround yourself with.  It makes you wonder what on earth possessed you to become friends in the first place, to allow these people into the inner sanctum that is your friendship circle.
 

Over the last few months I have been conflicted about an issue. An issue that I have talked at length with friends and family about.  An issue that just won't go away.  An issue that stares me in the face every single day.  That's the trouble with living in a town where everyone seems to know everyone.  This issue looks me in the face every time I look at Devil Spawn and think what could have happened.  How I wish that I had done things differently that night.  Woulda, shoulda, coulda. Something that I am struggling with immensly is that MY son was placed in danger but I am being painted the bad guy.
 

I am protecting my son from influences that I do not want him in contact with but I am being painted as dividing a family.  Devil Spawn is not an adult, he needs to be protected.  Contrary to what others think, he was not able to consent to the situation he was placed in.  The adults in the situation had the choice to go anywhere else and do what they did, instead they chose to do it on my son's bed, while he was asleep.  I don't care how intoxicated they think they were, what they did is wrong.  I am not to blame.
It's amazing when someone does something wrong that their friends take on a mob mentality.  The internet allows this to happen. It's easy to get caught up in the ebb and flow of a situation.  Ease of access to the internet means that it's hard to escape it. It can be in your face constantly.  The trouble with a mob mentality is that there is always one person singled out. I have been witness to this over and over again. It was only when it happened to me that I noticed the effects it can have on someone.  Hindsight can be a bitch. 
 

When we do something wrong, the adult thing is to apologise. To realise what we did wrong and apologise. Unfortunately not everyone thinks this way.  Some people enjoy playing the blame game.  It's something we do as children, but hopefully, by the time we are adults have developed enough morals to apologise when we realise we have done something wrong or we are pulled up on actions that are offensive to others.  The trouble with the blame game is that it doesn't help anyone, especially you.  It doesn't help anyone move on, and more often than not it alienates you from those around you.  Accepting what you did and concentrating on not making the mistakes again is sometimes all that you can do. 
 

However sometimes there is nothing you can do..some people have what I have coined the 'Victim Syndrome'.  If there is anyway for them to play the victim, they will take it and run with it.  I have talked before about how me being suicidal and not on correct medication led to me holding up a chemist.  At no point did I say that what I did was right. I realised and still realise that what I did was wrong and that I was very lucky to get the sentence that I did.  I work to make sure that I do not get back to a place where I feel that desperate again.  I try not to just lay down and admit defeat because I have a little person who is relying on me to keep going. 

Packing my baggage

What will you take with you?
 

When I first saw this prompt I thought it was a bit morbid and it meant what will you take into the 'afterlife' if you believe in that stuff.  No, it's about what will I take with me into 2013.  It's sad but I will most likely carry a lot of baggage. Not good baggage (is it ever) but baggage that I need to leave behind.
 

The biggest bag in my baggage is anger. I have talked a lot about feeling like a ball of fury.  I have started to feel myself uncurl a little bit but it is still there. I'm quick to react, quick to anger, quick to expect the worst.  It's what happens when you get stabbed in the back while getting hugged by a friend.  A friendship ruined by betrayal is the hardest to get over.  If you just drift apart...you feel sad that you aren't as close but there is no horrible gut wrenching feeling.
 

I dwell on things too much. I bottle things up, I remember things with detail and play them over and over again in my head.  I think of things that I could have, should have, would have done.  It doesn't change the outcome, all it does is make me angrier. Angrier at the person, angrier at myself, angrier at the whole situation.
These are the things that I will take with me into the New Year.  They aren't the things that I want to take with me.  What I want to take is a calmer me, a me that takes things in their stride.  A person who realises that there is nothing that I can do about other peoples actions..regardless of how shitty they are, that beating myself up about it, won't change them.  A leopard rarely changes their spots. People who use and abuse, don't feel sorry for the way they treat people.  Even if they are supposed to be 'mature aged women', it won't stop them acting like highschool tarts.
 

That is my one thing that I want to get out of going to see a Psychologist. I want a calm way of letting out the frustration.  A way that doesn't see me bottling it up then exploding like a ticking time bomb.  It may take a long time.  It will be a lot of work, but I am excited for a new me. A me who doesn't take the shit that get's shovelled my way.  A me who speaks up when it's needed.  A me who doesn't snap after being pushed down for so long that there is nothing else to do.  Those who treat me right shouldn't be worried, those who act like giant douchebags...will not phase me anymore.

I will rise above this 

 

Celebrate YOUR SELF this festive season

Today's prompt is: How will you celebrate your self this festive season?
 

Since Devil Spawn came on the scene we have very much done what others have wanted. Gone here, there and everywhere. There hasn't been a year yet where we have just settled in for the day and well to put it simply, bludged. 
 

After last Christmas I told Papa devil that this year we are having our Christmas.  We are sitting at home, doing things at our pace and anyone who wants to join in is more than welcome (except Papa Devils son but that is a whole different story).  I'm really looking forward to it. 
 

I've sat down and written a list of food I want to have on Christmas Day.  All cold stuff, most likely to the horror of Oculus Mundi ;).  You know the old saying, if you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen. Well that is precisely what I plan on doing.  Scrumptious Prawns, ham on the bone and more salads that you can pole a stick at.  I may even have a go at a scrumptious dessert. I have been scouring Pinterest for.... research ahem.
 

At this stage I have no idea who will be here other than Papa Devil, Devil Spawn and myself and at the moment I am ok with that.  I will most likely freak out when it gets closer but at the moment my list making is keeping me calm.  I love a good list.
 

Once food is served and done, I intend on doing nothing but veging in the back yard or on the couch and drinking vodka.  Most likely it will be stinking hot so I inted to get Devil Spawn a pool between now and Christmas that we can lounge around in for the duration of the day.
 

Devil Spawn is more into the whole Christmas thing this year, so it will be great to leave biscuits and a beer out for Santa and see the excitement on his face on Christmas morning when he opens all of his presents. 
 

I want to celebrate my self by surrounding myself with the people who I love and love me right back.  Christmas can be such a stressful time and it's nice to have good people around you.
 

What are you doing this festive season?

Self Harm FFS

Hi! This week I decided to do FFS a little differently and did a Vlog.  I was scared as hell and it took me about 50 takes to do.  Devil Spawn also kept running from my bedroom to the bathroom through the whole thing.  I haven't rewatched it for fear that I will delete it, so here I am in all my rawness.

Those who self harm may find the following Vlog triggering.  If you or someone you know is at risk of self harm please seek professional help.

Linking up with Dear Baby G 

Emotional Cost of Parenting

 As I have stated in numerous earlier posts, I struggle with the mothering gig.  Especially the emotional side.  Most days feel like a giant mind fuck and I am ready to hide under the blankets and never come out again. 
 

In Part 1 of this Two Part series I covered the physical costs of becoming a parent. Part Two will be all about the emotional responsibilites of becoming a parent.  Something that you never fully appreciate until you become a parent.  You can work in childcare and still not fully comprehend the emotional toll having a small person who you are completely responsible for 100% of the time.
 

One of the things that scared and continues to scare me most is that this little person depends on me for absolutely everything.  There is no handing the child over when you need a sick day.  This little person is your everything and they think you are their entire world.  A baby in simple terms is a completely selfish creature.  They don't care if you are sick, have only had 3 hours sleep or are hungry enough to chew your own arm off, they want your time, love and attention.
 

I think one of the hardest things as a parent is seeing your child sick and there is nothing you can do about it.  It could range from a common cold to a life threatening disease but you will still feel like you are completely helpless.  For me the first cold was the hardest.  Devil Spawn was only a couple of weeks old and he snuffled and tossed and turned in his sleep.  There wasn't much I could do but seeing him being so uncomfortable was heart breaking. 
 

There have been numerous studies performed on the importance of getting enough sleep to encourage good mental health.  Babies...they don't care how many studies you've done, they want up and they want up now.  Overall Devil Spawn has been a pretty good sleeper.  He slept from 8pm until 6am from about 3 months onwards and would have a decent nap during the day.  All that changed at 18 months. He decided to scrap the daytime sleep. Me? I wasn't so ready but finally admitted defeat when I realised that no day sleep meant he was in bed sound asleep by 7pm.  That was up until about 8 months ago. He decided sleep was for the weak. One night surviving on just 3 hours sleep and was up and at 'em the next day like it was nothing.  Mummy on the other hand was ready to kill the first person who crossed her path.  11pm was an early night in these parts.  We muddled through it and just as suddenly as it started, it stopped.  I don't question it and am just loving the return of the 7pm bedtimes.
 

Tying in with the physical costs is the emotional guilt of providing the money for those costs.  Unless you are heartless, than you WILL worry about where the next meal is coming from.  As your child gets older you will also begin to worry about the *wants* that you can't provide.  Now this isn't a given, if you have a career that pays well, or you and your partner both do, then this won't be such a big issue but we all have to start somewhere.  The funny thing about chilren is that they don't always come when you are expecting them.  If we waited until we could afford them, then we would never have kids.
 

I'm linking up with Jess for IBOT :)

Hindsight

Unfortunately sometimes in life it takes a big event for people to show their true colours.  It can feel like a slap in the face and hindsight is a bitch.
 

It can really be a knock to your self esteem.  I've started to wonder if it's something I do that attracts these kind of people.  The kind of people who will hug you with one hand and stab you in the back with the other.  Do I invite these people or am I just not perceptive enough to see the true colours that lurk beneath the surface? Or are these people so cunning that they hide their true colours until a situation arises that forces their real personality to the surface?
 

For the duration of 2012 I have been an angry ball of fury.  Everyone and everything got on my nerves.  Life became an unbearable pit of anger. I hated leaving the house because everything pissed me off and I was constantly on edge.  A scowl was a permanent fixture on my face and I wasn't very approachable.  I thought I needed new meds.  I think a lot of it was down to the fact that I was in fact surrounded by arseholes.
 

I've had a facebook acc since 2007. It wasn't until this year that it started to become more of a burden than a help.  It made me paranoid and untrusting as knives were coming from every direction and I didn't know who was throwing them.  It revealed it's underbelly of gossip and back stabbing behaviour and I didn't like it.  I spent more time worrying and talking about the latest drama that had happened on facebook instead of focusing on my own life and bettering myself. 
 

Then a few weeks ago an incident happened.  An incident that I do not wish to go into detail about on here because I am trying to put it behind me and not dwell on it anymore.  My group of friends were supportive during this time...until some of them weren't.  Actions started to become underhanded and immoral behaviours were expected to be forgiven and forgotten.  It wasn't that simple, it's never that simple.  A small group began to form who supported and excused the incident.  Saying that I didn't know the full story, despite me being the only person in the group who was there when the incident occured.  It all came to a head and I thought fuck it and did a friends list cull.
 

The weight off my shoulders and out of my mind was immense. I left mutual groups, so had no reason to interact at all.  I suddenly felt my brow start to uncrease.  I felt my shoulders to to unhunch.  I felt the ball of fury becoming smaller as each day passed.  Facebook has become a safe haven again. It has become somewhere that I can vent and talk to my friends withouth having to worry about a game of chinese whispers. 
 

So before you decide that you are an angry person with a problem or a person deserving of the treatment they receive, first make sure that the people you are surrounding yourself with aren't putting those behaviours in your psyche.  Be who you are and you will find people who let your real personality and nature shine. 

Mind your words

The mind is a crazy, mixed up thing.  Well mine is anyway.  I have a tendancy to remember all the shit stuff and have a hard time remembering all the good stuff.  I'm reminate on stuff constantly.  In laymans terms I am Stewy Mcstew.  I find it really  hard to let stuff go and negative words have a way of drilling down into the depths of my psyche and taking up residence.  It's something that I really need to work on. 

 An article on Psychology Today says:

The environment that children are raised in molds not only their mind, but also their brain. This is something many long suspected, but now we have scientific instruments that show us how dramatically childhood experience alters the physical structure of the brain, and how sensitive we are as children to these environmental effects. Words--verbal harassment--from peers (and, as a previous study from these researchers showed, verbal abuse from a child's parents) can cause far more than emotional harm.
 

My biggest struggle and thing that plays on my mind constantly is my weight.  Something that my mother would constantly comment on. As well as the volume of food I was consuming while a child.  I wasn't a massively overweight child but yet every hairbrained diet that my mother went on, I was put on as well.  From about the age of 8.  At least that is as young as I can remember.  My mother is overweight and has always always been overweight.  Yet if we were to say anything about her weight, it was the end of the world. It still is.
 

Through my teen years I really struggled with the whole putting food in my mouth and not feeling guilty about it.  To the point where I started starving myself.  My mother was oblivious. Acting dumb whenever my Dr or Psychiatrist mentioned that I hadn't been eating.  From the age of 14 until 18 I only ate one meal a day.  I rarely if ever ate at school.  In Grade 12 I lose 25kgs in 3 months and she didn't think there was anything wrong with that. Even commenting when seeing me eat that I 'better be careful or you'll put all that weight back on'.  To this day I still tell myself that I 'deserve' to eat when getting something out the fridge. There is always an internal dialogue going on when it comes to food.
 

One would think that someone would learn from their experiences with their first child. No, not my mother.  I have just come back from two weeks staying with my parents and my 13yo brother.  My brother got all the good genes and is a bean pole.  By no stretch of the imagination is he overweight.  He is taller than me and so at his weight is well within his healthy weight range.  He's a grazer, I don't think I have ever seen him eat a big meal in my life.  While he was rifling through the fridge one day mum says to him 'Stop eating, you're going to get fat'.  My brother is a lot like me at that age.  He takes things in and stews on them.  What was his response to mums words? He went for a 2 hour walk.  Mum thought this was hilarious saying that he takes things so literally. 
 

Children's minds are so delicate.  Please be careful what you say.  You never know how deep they are burying the harsh words you use.   

Bygones

Sometimes I wonder if it is my twisted perception of interpersonal relationships that makes it hard to make and keep friendships.  Other times I wonder if it's just because other people are stupid.

As I have gotten older, I become more aware of my actions and thoughts.  The thin line between my brain and my mouth closes and I think about what I say to others.  I have clear retrospection...or so I like to think.

The last six months have really made me more aware of how my actions have an impact on others.  How not everyone is straight up and honest.

Facebook has made me paranoid.  There is so many she said, she said, that you wonder who to trust.  You get stepped on and pushed over so much that you begin to question humanity's integrity.  You wonder what goes through people's heads and who is the crazy person.

In the end though all you can do is act how you will always act and hope that you will attract others who feel/think in similar ways.  Tell the truth and be up front.  Never say anything on the internet that you wouldn't to their face.  Living like this might get you 'haters' but it will also get you friends who 'get you'

Say it like you mean it

Edenland

This week is all about saying sorry...for anything and everything.

I'm sorry that I was in to the too hard basket.  I'm sorry that you're easy fix didn't work.  I'm sorry that I push anyone away who gets too close.  I'm sorry that I still think about hurting myself even though you think I shouldn't.

I'm sorry that sitting on the couch staring into space is easier.  I am sorry that I yell more than I talk.  I'm sorry that you just want a hug and I push you away. I'm sorry that the DVD player plays with you more than I do.  I'm sorry that I don't have the energy to do anything about it.  

I'm sorry I was so difficult. I'm sorry that I kicked, screamed and scratched just to not being your presence.  I'm sorry that I caused you so much pain.  I'm sorry I wasn't perfect. I'm sorry I gave up to easy.  I'm sorry I didn't try harder.

I'm sorry I screwed up..that I continued to screw up even when I knew the right way.  I'm sorry that I am more scared to live than I am to die.

I'm sorry.

AHHHHHHH

I'm stressed...when I stress I revert back to old habits.  Habits I thought I had kicked.  Habits I am not proud of.  Habits I don't speak of....until now

When I started this blog I wanted to be open and honest in creating a snap shot into my life...even if that is always sunshine, lollipops and all that other fucking shit.

My first port of call in the stress express is retreatment...retreating into myself and having no motivation or energy to do the everyday tasks.  

Second stop is 'negative coping mechanisms' a lovely term for 'shit you really shouldn't do'.  Since having Mini Man cutting hasn't made an appearance on the stress express but other mechanisms have.  Hello getting plastered aka social norm coping mechanism.  Then there is not so social norm coping mechanism.  Binging and Purging.

Since starting this challenge I have really struggled to keep myself in check.  After downing multiple laxatives for weeks on end, going cold turkey was fucking hard.  The urge to binge has been ever present and today I gave in....gave in bad.  It's a good thing I have no laxatives in the house.  

I'm trying desperately to keep myself in check and not let my emotions get the better of me.  I'm sucking it princess....

How

How do you tell a 'professional' that you aren't really sure if you like your child.  

That you aren't sure if what you feel for him is real or just an act.  

How do you say that you regularly tell him to go away and leave you the fuck alone.  

That you just want to lock yourself in your bedroom every single day and pretend that everything outside your room doesn't exist.  

That you are feeling a real resentment towards him but you have no fucking idea why.

Part of me really wants to say all this out loud but I really don't think that I can.  As much as these feelings bubble up to the surface, I can't lose him.

Maybe I just can't do this any more.  Maybe I'm at the end of my tether.  Maybe I'm just fucked.

The Bullet Has Been Bitten

Yesterday I took the Mini Man to the Child Health Nurse for his 2 year old check up.  It was all about me and my inability to cope with the everyday of having a toddler.  Of having the Mini Man.  I was so worried about how I was going to say it, how I was going to word it and have it come out how I wanted it to.  All I did was blurt out 'I can't do this anymore'.  

It's good when you have a health worker who has kids and understand that sometimes it's fucking hard y'all and it's not always rainbows and fucking butterflies.

I got a referral to a social worker, who I need to be equally honest with.  I need to tell them about my disconnection with Dyllan.  Is it permanent, just a part of my mental illness or something else entirely?  I just feel that most of my actions towards Dyllan are an act.  That I'm doing what I feel that I 'should' do rather than actually feeling anything.  Surely this isn't normal.  He's a good kid. I don't want him growing up and hating me (well more than the average teenager hates their parent anyway).

This is fucking hard yo

I don't even fucking like wine and yes I am still in my pjs!

Today the Mini Man turned 2...hello onslaught of comments to the tune of 'here start the terrible twos'. Now I think I speak for almost every parent of a toddler when saying 'it fucking began months ago morons'.

One of the things that no one prepares you for in parenthood is the sheer amount of strangers with 'sage' advice.  Much of it is outdated and you really have to restrain yourself from punching them in the head.  Sometimes I am sure that these people really have forgotten what it is like to have a toddler.  Don't get me wrong some of the advice they have is golden...like the old lady who told me to put a couple of drops of water in the children's panadol to thin it out and make it easier to swallow.  Now that was a pearl of wisdom...no more choking on the panadol for Mini Man.

There is no switch that suddenly turns your baby into a terror at midnight on the day they turn 2.  No its a gradual, grinding you down until there is nothing left process.  By the time you actually get to the age of 2, its become a way of life and you can't remember life being any other way.  Oh yes it's that bad here.  I yelled at Mini Man on his birthday....yes it's that bad.