formal

Year 10 Formal, Meet Anxiety and PTSD

formalYear 10 Formal. What was hoped to be a special night for Jessie, ended up being memorable for all the wrong reasons sadly. She looked absolutely gorgeous and had been so excited. My heart sank when I got the first text an hour in, and I knew where it was going. I hadn’t been home an hour after already doing the 2 hour round trip to drop them off before I was doing it over again…

For $90 per head to attend formal, we knew there was a three course sit down dinner, DJ, photographer and photo booth. What we didn’t know was that the girls hadn’t put their table request in so wouldn’t all be seated together. Or that the DJ would be playing so loud you couldn’t hear yourself think, from the start of the night. I felt for the teachers, but that’s how I loved my music many years ago, and all the girls had fantastic night. But for Jessie, her anxiety and PTSD were triggered, she lost her confidence and it was all over red rover.

I was angry. Screw you universe for allowing this to happen to Jessie. Fuck you for giving her this shitty plot in life that stops her from being a normal teen. I was angry that I had all the driving, when I’d been SO needing time out. I was angry that neither of our nights were what we’d hoped for. Jessie had been looking forward to the formal for so long. She’d paid off her own dress with weekly payments. It was a big deal for her, I wanted it to be a night with her friends she’d always remember. For me – I wanted to feel like I assume most parents feel thinking of their teen out having an awesome time. I don’t know what that’s like, Jessie’s been unwell since age 8.

formalJessie’s aware her mental illness isn’t taken seriously, and formal night really cemented that for her. She’d obviously gotten the feeling from friends on the night that she needed to say sorry, and did so the next day. I think she needed reassurance, but instead was thanked by her best friend for apologising. For what I don’t know. She didn’t create a big scene, she managed herself really well, just sat and waited for me. But as we talked about with Jessie’s counsellor, mental illness is invisible, and people don’t understand. If she’d had a physical illness, no doubt her friends would have instead looked after her. And certainly wouldn’t have expected an apology.

Sadly people don’t understand mental illness. The notion is thoughtlessly thrown out there that sufferers should be able to control their symptoms. Yet you’d be a real a-hole to expect someone to control their asthma symptoms, or to walk on a broken leg. But the reality is that I think many mental illnesses are seen as a choice, and can therefore be controlled. If not controlled, the mind must be weak. Weak is definitely not a word I’d use to describe my Jessie, in any way, shape or form!

But that’s life. And as disappointing as it can be, if Jessie can learn how to get on regardless now, she’ll have strong foundations for life.

She loves her friends. And her need for friends is the same as everyone else’s.

They’re all learning – they’re teenagers, all trying to work out how and where they fit in this world.

formal

 
 

extreme

An Exasperatingly Extreme Exhausting Existence

teenagersI’m exhausted.  The cause – me and my extreme existence.  I should stop there because that sounds as if my life is full of adventure and excitement!  It has moments of both, but it feels more extreme in it’s stresses.  I’m hoping by writing what’s in my head, I’ll become untangled from it.

There is so much going on that I feel trapped with.  The feeling throughout my body is ‘I hate my life’.  I hate my life.  But that’s a secret.  One I wish had been kept from me too.  But no, everything’s got to be laid out on the table and psycho-fucking-analysed.  Not much is allowed slip by.  No-one is perfect but how many live under such extreme self scrutiny?  Surely it’s not meant to be so intense?

 crazy eyes GIF

It’s the very basic things that I’m fed up with.  Combined with all the little things playing ‘pile on’, I get to feeling like I might explode into a billion pieces.  And I see little peace from life in the near future.

I love Jessie, my family, and all the people in my life, and I enjoy my volunteering and study.  These things give me temporary relief, but as I said, it’s the basic things I’m hating.  Like where I live and the attitude from our community housing provider I have to live with.  I have to suck it up that we live in a place that is not maintained, or cleaned properly.  I reported the extreme stench of our bins, and the fact that the garbage rooms are never cleaned.  The place is only mopped about once a month, leaving the floors smelling worse then the bins.  But I’m told it’s all of an ‘acceptable’ standard.  I wish I could get paid enough to buy a brand new BMW by doing an ‘acceptable’ job.  Or work in the office of Link Housing – they don’t even reach that standard!!

I can never get hold of our housing manager, and she has returned my calls on extremeone occassion only.  Emails I’ve been sending in about a car parked in our driveway adding to the safety hazard – ignored for the last two months.  The last time I was on holidays up north, I’d rung after a leak in the roof had damaged my wall making the paint bubble and peel and the carpet discolour. My request to have it repaired had gone ignored and I was chasing it up.  How dare I!  I was asked by the staff member in a holier than thou tone, “Do you have a roof over your head? Do you have electricty? Do you have water?”!  I made a formal complaint about her.  Didn’t ever hear back.

We have dead gardens and the grassy areas are nothing but weeds.  I told them the gardeners rarely come, and all they do is mow when they do come.  But I’m told we have the same gardeners as another block where the gardens are beautiful, and that they come every two weeks to tend our gardens.  I was the second tenant to move in here, but hey, what do I know?!  I only live here!  We are the newest block in the street, and the most dishevelled after only six years. It’s embarrassing.  But the attitude is that we’re all shitkickers, not entitled to anything better than acceptable, or entitled to a voice – the very thing I can’t stand!!

What amazes and angers me is that it’s so often those claiming to be caring and advocating for those in need, that treat those they advocate for with such disdain and discrimination.  And because I do have a voice, I’ve earned myself a bad extremename at Link.  I could easily write a book with all the stories from living here over the years!  But in keeping with the integrity of Link Housing, when I asked the CEO who their governing body was, he told me the it was their ‘skills based Board’ and provided me the Chairpersons email.  My query as to how they can be governed by themselves has gone unanswered.  I would’ve thought that if a tenant asks, they’d be obliged to give a truthful answer.  I really can’t stand being treated like an idiot, but it comes with living in my world unfortunately.

The chief assets manager did call me yesterday and she’s coming out to meet with me on Thursday with the assets manager and the CEO.  She tells me that it is their responsibility to keep on top of everything here, and they plan to improve their processes, but I’ve heard the second part of that sentence before. We’ll see…

I’m also struggling with accepting events of the past.  The position Jessie’s in is a extremeconsequence of my choice in men. I know all the positive thinking tools. And I know I need to be compassionate and forgiving towards myself to be able to move forward.  However I feel like I’ve gone full circle, and am back at the point of knowing my choices are the reason Jessie has so many problems.  In reality, how can anyone really forgive themselves for their child being sexually assaulted by an ex?  If I was healthier in my mind, she wouldn’t have been assaulted because I wouldn’t have chosen him.

Seeing Jessie so happy after her social get togethers last week, did create a spark in my heart and did give me some relief.  Unfortunately the day to day picture quickly put that spark out.  Our normal is so far off most people’s and I’m finding myself wishing for a different existence.  I feel like I’ve lived in some kind of dysfunction for most of my life.  Things were supposed to settle as I got older, but that hasn’t been the case.

Jessie’s a very intelligent girl, but today she dropped her electives, so is only doing core subjects in middle school.  This leaves her ineligible to go on to Yrs 11 & 12, although she plans on going to TAFE next year.  I’m really worried she’ll struggle with a full workload, as she’s not used to it.  My fear is if she doesn’t want to put the effort in she’ll give it up, and then we’re in trouble.  I know there’s no point worrying about the future, but it’s much easier said than done.

I’ve brought a child into the world who is constantly telling and showing me how much she hates herself.  She doesn’t have much care about her cleanliness or appearance.  Her room is disgusting. She’s blamed me, having shouted at me that I shouldn’t have fucked her father.  What do you say to that?!

As her mum I’ve failed to keep her safe and I know I’ll only be able to forgive myself if she has a contented life.

Then there are the ‘pile ons’

I’m owed over $27 000 in child support arrears, and this financial year owed a paltry $8 per week to contribute to Jessie’s upbringing.  It’s insulting. I’d rather not get anything.

extremeI want out of city living, but I know I’ll never be able to afford to move to the country.  That has to remain just a dream.  I want out of Link Housing, but I can’t afford full rents.

People are not my favourite species.  I’m sick of most people.  So many are arrogant, self centred, unkind, cruel and rude.

It’s been two and a half months since I quit smoking but I’m still having the vivid, extreme dreams.  I wake up feeling like I’m ready for bed.

I could go on but it’s all just whingeing.  So many things are aggravating me that I’m deep breathing so much I’m making myself dizzy.  I fear my head’s likely to explode.  Or I could quite possibly go mad…that sounds more fun.

extreme

 

teenagers

Teenagers, Parties and Alcohol

teenagersDay Before the Party:  I was unexpectedly asked the dreaded question this afternoon – “Mum am I allowed to have a drink at the party?”.  I was a little taken aback.  This all seems to be happening so quickly.  For me anyway! Teenagers and drinking – it doesn’t bring pretty pictures to mind.  But I must remember that my teenager’s not me at the same age.  That’s a massive consolation, and I’d love for it to stay that way.

Today Jessie met up with her old friends from school which was a lovely surprise.  She was anticipating only knowing one friend in the group that was going, and was super excited about, so having them all made her day.  They went into the city to play laser tag, and she was gone for the entire day.  I’d started getting worried by the afternoon.  She normally texts me regularly and sends me photos on the occasions she does go somewhere without me.  But nothing…until she needed me, haha.  She was too busy enjoying herself thankfully, and didn’t need the contact with me.  I’m so happy for her!  They’re responsible, really lovely girls who I trust, and trust with Jessie.

teenagersAfter leaving the house at 9:20 this morning, she rang at 4:30 asking could she go with the girls to a party tomorrow night.  Omg this is awesome!!!  Socialising with her old gang!!  Having a life outside of her bedroom!!  Seeing Jessie so genuinely happy and feeling like she really belongs is elating for me.  Even a couple of months ago I doubt she would’ve wanted to go out today, let alone go to a party.

Such feelings of elation aren’t evoked by the details of this party though.  There are lots of girls from her old school going.  Which immediately told me drugs and lots of drinking, by some anyway.  That’s a concern. But again, my teenager is not me at that age.  She is way more sensible and switched on!

teenagersMy decision comes down to a choice really.  I either trust in Jessie’s sensibilities, or I not allow her to go, at a time when these friendships have a chance to bond again.  That’s how I see it anyway.  And being her only parent, that is my perogative.  Jessie’s socialisation has taken a real hit over the last couple of years, so I’ve chosen to let her go.  Intertwined with my anxieties about it was real excitement for her.  A glimmer of normality for her was so relieving for me.  It’s brought me out of a deep rut I was in about our dysfunctional reality.

My next decision was around alcohol.  Two of the parents are allowing one drink, however there are such strongly divided sides to this amongst mums and dads. My thoughts go back to my adolescence, and to things our much loved caseworker had said a few years ago.  It was time for me to now make up my own mind as a parent.

teenagersThere are two irrefutable facts:

1. alcohol is damaging to teenagers maturing brains and,

2. teenagers who want to drink are going to drink.

 

Jessie knows more about the damaging effects than I do as it turns out.  Good job school!  We discussed the possible side effects of alcohol with her medication and the concerns with her bipolar.  On this she was well researched and I was impressed with her knowledge and understanding.  She can be so mature – I see glimpses of her grown up self. She’s so funny, I was giving her a few excuses to use if she was pressured to have more to drink. She looked at me like I was mad and said “why would I have to lie? I’d tell them straight out I don’t want another drink.” And I have no doubt she would too!

My preferrence would be she didn’t drink at all, however I think it’s safest to discuss and negotiate together.  That way we’re both heard and respected. I’ve learnt that teenagers have a greater chance of sticking to an agreement they’ve had a say in putting together.  With a close relationship comes a respect and trust they really don’t want to break.  But if Jessie was to slip up or find herself in trouble, I’d rather be the first one she calls.

She and her friends are sensible girls, and Jessie acknowledged the trust I was placing in her.  Still, I hope I’ve made the right call…

*I trust in myself that I have *

teenagers

 

mindfulness

Achieving Mindfulness, Relieving Mind Fullness

What is Mindfulness?

I think of mindfulness as way of living that gives us some time out and peace from life’s pressures and worries. It gives us clarity and focus in each moment. It’s free and can be done in the privacy of your own mind.

mindfulness

Google’s definition of mindfulness is:-

“1. the quality or state of being conscious or aware of something.

 2. a mental state achieved by focusing one’s awareness of the present moment, while calmly acknowledging and accepting one’s feelings, thoughts and bodily sensations, used as a therapeutic technique.”

It’s the latter explanation I’ve been attempting to achieve, for its intended benefits. I really suck at it. I’m told it takes practice though, so I won’t be too hard on myself. Nothing worthwhile comes without effort.

What is Mind Fullness?

mindfulnessMind fullness is a colloquial term for when our head is constantly full of thoughts about the past, present and future and everything in between. They swirl around, getting all mixed up together. The thoughts pile gets so big it can feel claustrophobic. The important ones become misplaced and the unhelpful ones find their voice. Our fuse gets shorter and shorter. Tolerance levels drop. We can be forgetful and very easily distracted. Ask me anything! I’ve got mind fullness down pat!

I can get up to get a drink and be distracted by the washing machine turning off. So I’ll hang out the washing and go back to what I was doing. I’ll then remember I was getting a drink, so get up and pour one and put the bottle back in the fridge. Then I’ll remember I need to make a phone call, so I’ll do that and go back to what I was doing. Now I think of my drink again and need a wee. So I go to the bathroom and as I’m sitting there I’ll notice the bathroom mirror needs cleaning. So I’ll clean that and then go back to what I was doing. As I sit down I’ll see my drink sitting on the kitchen bench. True story!! Granted, it’s kinda productive. But fuck it’s frustrating!!

Why Choose Mindfulness?

Thoughts are just that, but they have a way of coming to life, taking over, evoking emotions and causing us stress. That’s when we shout at the kids because our patience is gone. We’ve given it to that jumbled mess in our minds. Being mindful allows us to separate from the current situation and calm our farm. By taking a deep breath and focusing our attention we can become aware of our thoughts, emotions and sensations in the body at that moment. We stop being taken hostage by them, becoming an observer instead. Then we can make a conscious choice as to what we say or do next. We can claim control of our reactions and words, and in the process learn so much about ourselves.

Who wouldn’t want to choose a less chaotic way of living?? I like knowing I can feel what I feel, but I am not what I feel. I don’t like that conflict between wondering if I’m a cranky cow, or if I’m actually a happy, good person. How can I be both? It’s been a battle of good and bad for so long. I accept I will never be perfect and I wouldn’t want to be anyway. I’d have no funny stories to tell.  But I hope as time goes on I get to the point where mindfulness is second nature. I need to keep remembering that I don’t need to react. I have a choice. What I want is to find peace of mind to make the right choices.

mindfulness

 

Dealing With Death and Dying

dyingThey’re not topics I like to talk about. Even though death and dying are part of life, and an inevitability that has affected nearly all of us. Still, I find it so overwhelming. And it never gets easier. I’m unable to get a handle on it. Death is so final. It’s one thing you can’t change, no matter how deep the desire. It’s too late to say goodbye. Or make amends. Or offer love you wished you’d given. It’s a reminder of how precious my loved ones are, including the furry ones. That reminder gives me patience and acceptance.

Sadly today was the end of days for my parents’ cat, Suu Kyi. She was 14 and had been losing kidney function. She’d been happy enough, and was still mobile and doing her day to day things. That all changed this afternoon, and gratefully for Suu Kyi, she didn’t suffer. So we have a big gap in our family. Mum and Dad of course will miss her most. She was their baby, and a source of love and love bites she will be remembered for. Animals aren’t just animals with us, they are family members. We’ve lost some beautiful souls, but their memories live on.

The universe must currently have an opening for good souls. An old friend I read, had to have her family dog put down today as well. A loved relative of Mum’s died last Tuesday and on Thursday I’m attending the funeral of a neighbour and friend. I’m dreading it, I really hate funerals. Not that anyone enjoys them! But the sadness is overwhelming and I always cry. Sometimes too much, while others around me are more composed. Remaining dry eyed while people are hurting and crying around me, is an impossibility for me. I can’t help but put myself in people’s positions and imagine their loss. If it’s my own loss, hook me up to your water tanks, there’s a big rain coming!

dyingI can’t get my head around dying, and that fine line between life and death. That moment of death when the heart stops beating and life leaves the body. Where does life go? How can a body have personality one moment, then be completely void of it the next? What happens to “us”? Things don’t just disappear. Sorry, they don’t. Disappearing acts are illusions, tricks on the mind.

Our soul, our essence, leaves our body, I have no doubts about that. The first body I saw was my friend Steve. He was on life support for 5 days before his parents made the heartbreaking decision to turn it off. While I still visited each day and talked to him and held his hand, I believed he looked like his soul was gone then. Maybe it was the machine breathing for him, and his pale colour. He might’ve started packing, but he didn’t move out until half an hour after life support was turned off, and he was pronounced dead. There was no doubt he was gone then.

I remember after my cat Zeppelin died, sitting there for so long, just looking at this empty vessel that was not long ago him. I was so upset and I wondered if I was waiting for him to come back.

At my Gran’s funeral, I wanted to go in to the viewing room to say goodbye. I had to see her and hold her hand. Her soul had gone, but to comfort our human needs, she was made up to look like she was just taking a nap. As the tears flowed, the clash of images was confusing. I wanted to stay with her and talk to her. Maybe some clarity would come? But even your body is on a busy schedule after we die!

dyingWhen Gran was dying, we’d travelled to visit her. She was rather hazy but knew who we all were. It interested me incredibly to see Gran focusing on young Jessie in particular. She wanted to hold her hand all the time, and the way she looked at Jessie was really special and full of love. It seemed really pronounced, and I’ve always wondered if it was youth Gran was drawn to in her final stages? Could she see her younger self in Jessie? I’ll never know.

Losing people and animals we love, doesn’t get easier. It hurts. It hurts a lot. I still find it a shock when the grim reaper comes, whether he was expected or not. Dying scrambles my mind. In an instant, we, with all of what makes us us, leaves every cell of our bodies. We’re never to be seen again. Never to be hugged or cuddled again. Never to be conversed with again.

I used to feel comfortable with what I believed in regards to our souls after death, until I started thinking about them put together. Instead of creating a nice tidy connected line, my brain exploded with ‘need to knows’ and ‘but hows’.  I have so many questions. Questions there are no answers for. In reality we only have our beliefs, to help fill an otherwise void hole.

Death leaves a heartache no-one can heal. Love leaves a memory no-one can steal.

 dying

 

mondayitis

Every Day’s Been Giving Me Mondayitis…

mondayitisMondayitis – this is really knocking me around lately. Nearly every day’s feeling like a Monday; with that strong urge to call in to life sick. I’m sliding through the days with the same amount of effort and enthusiasm as the cat on those stairs.

Time is passing in strange increments. It’s been four days since I was in the city, although it feels like a couple of weeks ago. Thirty minutes can drag on for what seems like hours. Hours can pass in mondayitisminutes. I’ve had splitting headaches and my body feels like it does after a seizure, although I’m having 4-5 aura’s a day. My muscles feel fatigued as if I’ve done a tough workout. My brain is hazy and I cannot trust that what I see is what is there. What is a dream and what is reality is not entirely clear. And no – I am not taking drugs!

Last week was spent managing nerves and anxiety before a TV interview Thursday morning. I had a couple of panicked moments over the preceding days, but was able to get it under control before it all went pear shaped. (No offence to pears. I love pears.) The first pounding headache came Thursday night. My mood took a nosedive and all I wanted was bed. The next morning I woke with that mondayitis feeling, along with an aching head that has stubbornly persisted.

mondayitisMy mind was fighting old thought patterns again. I question everything and get down on myself for whatever is happening to me. My neck and back were so sore, and I’m sure the cause of my headaches. I went to the gym on Tuesday thinking I could work it out. It wasn’t to be, although I did feel the shift of energy and faintly felt my strength scrambling to free itself from under that heavy, dark blanket. Happy hormones 🙂

By yesterday afternoon I could’ve chopped my own head off, so went and had a remedial massage. I’d say 45 out of the 55 minutes were pure agony, dished out by a tiny, softly spoken asian woman. I came home and crashed on the lounge. The soup I’d started cooking earlier would have to wait.

Today my muscles are sore from the massage but the headache is finally gone. The pain is so worth the reward. I’ve only had one aura today. I feel human again! So I know that I haven’t been well. I’m not really sure what happened, but it’s an awesome feeling having the fog clearing.

mondayitis

self worth

Being True to Your Self Worth

self worthAfter 46 years I am so glad to finally be aware of my self worth. I seem to be magnet for the takers, manipulators, and users in this world. I’d always blamed myself. I believed that others opinions or treatment of me determined my value. Now I determine my own self worth.

I’m aware of my faults and my shortcomings. There are still aspects of me I’ll continue to improve on. However this no longer diminishes me as a worthy or worthwhile person. If anything, being self aware and able to own my faults with the willingness to change those which I believe will make me a better person, are qualities I respect and admire in others. And so I appreciate them in myself as well.

self worthAlthough acceptance by others is nice, I no longer require it. Having others turn nasty when they can no longer take advantage of me is something I still struggle with though. It’s a personality type, as I’ve mentioned before, that I attract. Thankfully I now understand that they can only use or hurt me if I give them the opportunity. I am becoming quite adept at recognising the red flags, but I still need to work on my timeframe for getting away. To prevent the anger caused by the actions of such self serving humans, the first red flag needs to be my exit point at this stage.

To be able to simply cut off from these situations is my goal. Whether my personality type is capable of that in all cases, only time will tell I guess. I’m not a wallflower by any means, so maybe it will be a case of finding that balance between speaking up and moving on. People’s arrogance and expectation that I value them more than myself, astounds and angers me.

My self worth came slapping me ’round the head recently. I stopped volunteering for a passive aggressive woman who seemed to think her little venture should now be my top priority. Moderating a brand new group and accepting any new members 5 days a week, and make some edits, was what I agreed to do. Easy. But every day, messages or group chats with her other volunteer, which took way more time out of every day. A drama was made out of everything, it was pointless and draining! I was meant to have undisturbed days away at Mollymook, but had a long message my first morning there. That was the last straw for me.

self worthUnfortunately she had no respect for anything else her volunteers had going on in their lives. Before I went away she wanted me to call her. I said I would if I had time but I was quite busy. That was unacceptable so she got her other volunteer to ask could I contact her instead. When I first started she got me to do the same when someone who hadn’t even begun volunteering with her yet, wasn’t responding to her messages. I’m happy to help those who are helping themselves. I find it arrogant and egotistical to want things and then expect others to volunteer their time do the all the work because you refuse to learn the things you don’t know, or claim not to ‘have time’. But people like this are unable to look at themselves, and always place blame elsewhere!

I used to believe I was cursed, and these people were put in my life as punishment. This surely had to mean I wasn’t a worthy person. Now I’m kinda looking forward to the next one to try out the lesson I just learned. And that is to trust in that first alarm bell and act on it.

Each of us has our own story to tell. They’re all different, even the same ones. People’s perceptions vary. So when deciding on our own self worth, our perception is the only one that truly matters.

self worth

me

Who Is This Person I Call Me?

meI believe the answer to that question is ever changing. I think the fundamentals of ‘me’ have always been there. I’m just changing as I’m discovering what those fundamentals are.

I heard something that resounded deeply with me at my first Buddhist teaching. And that was that our true essence is always there – it just gets covered over by piles and piles of dirt which represent the sufferings of human life. As we slowly dig away the dirt, we get closer and closer to our true selves. I love it because it allows for compassion and forgiveness, but most of all HOPE. And hope is one of my favourite things. For me, I find it calming, peaceful and full of possibility. I cherish hope as I’ve lived without it before. I respect its value.

I’ve lived a lot of my life off the beaten track in comparison to my family you could say. Bloody black wool – and I made sure I stood out like dogs balls in my teenage years! My favourite haunt was The Piggery at Byron Bay until it became more of a nightclub than a live music venue. We saw bands like The Violent Femmes, Midnight Oil, The Lime Spiders, Hunters and Collectors, Canned Heat and heaps of others. Unsurprisingly, I’d say my toxic love affair with being in an altered state began around this time.

meI left home at 17, which was probably more like “I’m moving out!!!”, “Great, get in the car, I’ll drive you!!! Don’t forget your toothbrush!!!”! I may have been a little challenging at times…karma has caught up with me! My mum used to say I was like the little girl in the story with the curl in the middle of her forehead. “When she was good, she was very, very good, but when she was bad she was horrid.” Although these days I’m not usually as horrid, this has always rung true with me. I’ve become better at dealing with my ‘horridity’ and keeping it leashed. Unleashed it does too much damage and leaves me hating myself. I push people away, and lose people I don’t want to lose.

meI haven’t dealt with traumas well. PTSD and depression grips with its filthy claws disabling me. My mind visits dark, bleak places. Life becomes my enemy and people my greatest fear. But fortunately bad days always pass, and then I see the me I like again.

I try to give more than I take. I’ll help you if I can. If you need me to stand up for you I will. I will fight for the under dog, and house the lost dog. When I’m good, my heart and my home are open.

I love to learn. I want to know how things work and why – mostly people. Psychology is a passion. I love the brain for its complexities. It’s interesting how our experiences can affect the brain, which in turn determines how we think and behave. I like to know what has shaped people, and why  – myself included. I have a huge capacity for empathy and compassion, for myself now too. Trauma and repeated heartache can break a person’s usual spirit.

“The way I am today has nothing to do with what I’ll be tomorrow.”

It’s a spiritual life I’m heading towards. My mistakes and losses provide for learning and growth. Communication is a skill I want to perfect. I’ll keep digging away the dirt and working towards a peaceful mind.

me

“I am who I am today because of the choices I made yesterday” – Eleanor Roosevelt

my brain

My Brain Review

my brain
What Depression Looks Like in the Brain

I received my brain over 46 years ago. I think I was given a prototype that hadn’t yet had the glitches ironed out. A gift nonetheless. Repairing the glitches and disarming the many self destruct buttons has been my job.

Incorrectly placed, faulty circuit breakers between my brain’s communication ports have seen some erratic and extreme behaviours and thought patterns over my lifetime to date.

My brain first showed signs of irregularity when I was little. Miss Minnie became my alter ego when I got into trouble. She had a purple elephant and drove a mini (if I remember the story correctly) and was quite eccentric, but perfect. This brain of mine holds some strange memories and visions from under the age of 8. I am so certain of them, they are still so clear, yet I have always questioned their reality.

From my teenage years my brain has struggled with addiction, with the effects of multiple traumas, depression, anxiety, self confidence, my weaknesses, my strengths, and the inconsistencies and seeming polarities of who I am.

I have a brain that is intelligent, stupid, knowledgeable, naive, empathetic, judgemental. It is childlike, old, inquisitive, bored. It can be so happy but then so dark. It’s assured yet insecure. It trusts, but has no trust. It can love so deeply yet be so bitter. This brain can be my best friend and my own worst enemy.

But, it has given me the life that I have. And a rich life it’s been. Without this faulty brain of mine I wouldn’t be who I am today. I have a long way to go. But because my brain has my back way more often than not these days, I’m rating it a 3 out 5. There are many glitches I’m still working on. I’ll review in another 5 years and see how the repairs are going.

my brain

What would your brain review look like?

Submissions being welcomed  at https://mindfump.com/2017/02/11/submissions-wanted/

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