Pickiness and pedantry

So I've just been made redundant. It wasn't a total shock but it also wasn't on my top 10 things to do this week. If anything, it's kind of inconvenient. But then again, it's also kind of an opportunity.

I've never quite known what I want to be when I grow up. At 5 years old, I proclaimed that I wanted to fold clothes in C&A for a living, at 15 I had aspirations of being a pharmacist and by the time I was choosing a college course, I was all set for the heady world of TV production. I am now 35 and although I folded jumpers ahoy part time during uni, did my school work experience at a local chemist and once did a work placement on Blue Peter, I still haven't really found out exactly what it is that floats my boat.

After some jobs in TV and film production, I packed it all in and went to Thailand to teach English. At the time I found the work I was doing just didn't fulfil me. It all came to a head one day when I was having a heated email debate with Orlando Bloom's agent because Orlando had complained about the size of his nose on a DVD cover. I just decided that there were more important things in life so I handed in my notice at the best paying job I've ever had and flew off to teach 14 year olds the Cha Cha Slide.

I really enjoyed my year in Thailand, but I didn't want to be a teacher full time. But I took something from that job (and I'm not talking about that pack of colouring pens I nicked). A desire to make my work centre around people.

Cut to now, and after a whole lot of years in software testing (showcasing my inbuilt pickiness, pedantry and penchant for pointing out problems) and a wonderful foray into the world of User Experience, I think I've found a little niche for myself. And now here I am, standing on the precipice of change and yeah, it's terrifying.

Change scares me but I am quite glad I've been given this push. I am looking forward to finding a place for myself in the world, and in the last week, I've talked to so many lovely people. People who want to help total strangers, people who want to give their advice and guidance purely just to help someone along their way. People I've known for ages who have rallied round to do whatever they can to make this time easier.

Thanks to these people, I have the confidence to move forwards, onwards and upwards. Thanks to these people, I think I will find my place in the world. Ah people, you're not so bad. Apart from you, Orlando Bloom...

  

Googling your symptoms

I haven't been feeling quite right lately, I haven't been able to quite pinpoint it exactly. Felt like I'm on the verge of coming down with something, a mixture of things that didn't make sense. But the one constant, the one unvarying and ever present factor was tiredness. Wow, am I tired. So I did the only sensible thing anyone can do in that situation... I Googled my symptoms.

Yes, I know. Google diagnosis is a terrible rabbit hole. I once had a very sore thumb and a few searches later I was being directed to A&E. I get it. But... Well, I think it might actually be right this time. I came across an article that described all of my symptoms, I read a couple more and I definitely agreed. Dr Google had hit the nail on the head. It was....

... Exhaustion.

OK. OK. I know, that's what celebrities cry when they are skulking off to rehab. It sounds like a bullshit excuse. But I can't deny that it fits exactly how I am feeling. It even explained some things that I hasn't even considered to be part of the problem. But could that really be the problem? I mean, I don't even live a very active life, I'm as lazy as they come, my job is not stressful or horribly difficult. Am I entitled to be exhausted? Wouldn't people just laugh at me if I said that? 

But I am. I am exhausted.

And who says who's entitled to be anything? I know there's a post Christmas slump, the January blues, call it what you like, but this is different. My thoughts are slow, my brain is a fog, getting out of bed is not just difficult, it's almost an impossible feat. I can barely get myself to walk to work, nevermind go to the gym and my misophonia is through the roof - something that always gets worse the more tired and stressed I am. I don't want to go anywhere and I am finding it hard to keep up with conversations.

If I could stay in bed for a week, I would.

My plan was to get up and go to the gym before work each day this year and I have succeeded a grand total of zero times. My plan B was to go to the gym at lunch time instead (also failed) and then plan C was to go after work (also failed) I thought it would give me energy, but I just couldn't find the energy to go. I didn't even beat myself up about it. My brain thanked me. The couch was so much more inviting.

Maybe it's a vicious cycle (not an angry bike) I mean, I can't be arsed to exercise, but if I just exercised I'd have the energy I needed to exercise. Hold on, my brain hurts. I don't even know how I've gotten this far with this post.

So what should I do? Obviously I've been back to Google to get some advice on this as well, and apparently I need fresh air, oily fish and lots of water. So I'm off to audition to be the new Captain Birdseye.

One thing that is new though, is that I'm not beating myself up about this. I'm tired, it's ok. I need to rest, it's ok. I don't need to be forcing myself to do things. I'll get there. So whilst I may not be checking myself into a fancy, countryside retreat as per the celebs, I am going to indulge in sleep, sit down, eat, drink water and allow my mind to just go it's own way. The gym will still be there when I get there. Until then,  I guess the fish fingers are on me....

Anxiety: Some days just feel like

Peacocks and Penguins

I have always struggled with self esteem, confidence and belief in myself. I have always been afraid to try new things, for fear of getting them wrong or looking like a nob. I have always been embarrassed about myself, self conscious about my appearance and terrified of saying the wrong thing. Very little can help with this, though surrounding myself with people who like me for being me means that I can feel more at ease with myself. It's taken a long while to get to, but I no longer waste time with people who aren't good for me or don't get me.

The NHS website suggests that you can write down evidence that challenges the negative beliefs that come with low self esteem. When discussing my own feelings earlier, I came up with:

I am funny and good at hugs

My friend came up with:

You are smart and good at drawings and great at cheering me up and making weird food combinations and going for walks with.

I have to say that did cheer me up. I'd be friends with me.

Jokes aside, I know that there are good parts of me, positive attributes that people do like and appreciate. I know I'm not all bad. Buy why is it the downbeat, nagging doubts that have the loudest voice? Why can't I wake up and think "Woo today I'm going to make an awesome cup of tea and be a good friend to someone!" rather than "Christ, I look like a sausage in a bin bag"?

I don't know. Maybe because it is hard to allow yourself to like yourself. Is that a British thing? A female thing? A poor mental health thing? Well, I'm all three so it's hard to know. It's kind of looked down upon to like yourself. People call you vain, self centered, a twat. But why is it so bad?

I mean, there are limits. I'm not talking Narcissus here. I just mean why not allow yourself to acknowledge the good things about yourself?

I am considerate of other people's feelings. I will always share what I have. I can make a really good honking sound. I don't have any fillings.

See... that wasn't too hard. However I do feel like some bragging peacock and now really want to delete what I just wrote...

Maybe the more you get used to being nice about yourself, the easier it will become. Also, it's something just for yourself, to think about or to write down privately. I don't expect to be broadcasting the reasons that I am so great every day. Then people would start to think I was just a twat. Regardless, I know I'm not a twat, well not a total twat. God how many times have I said twat?

No one likes themselves all of the time (OK, maybe some people do) but attempting to challenge the thoughts and ideas I have about myself is a good place to start in order to get some way towards that. I will never be a peacock, but I will settle for being someone's penguin 😊

Something to say

I have neglected the blog for a while. It's not that I don't want to write something, I just haven't been able to. I mentioned this in my last post and things haven't gotten any easier. It's not that I don't have any issues, ha! God, no, I still have issues. I just haven't been able to put things down in words for a while. Thinking about it though, I think it's because I've started to speak up more.

If I am worried about something, I ask. If I am bothered by something, I say so. It's really working for me. It's something that I have been working on with my self esteem in mind. Being heard. Not being walked all over. Being just as important as everyone else. I may not yet believe it, but I am working towards it.

Let's take a completely hypothetical situation where someone who isn't me, was told they had to move desks at work. They were moved to sit with a different team, people who were very nice, but did not work with that person directly. This person felt like they were unimportant, that their feelings weren't considered. That they had been taken away from their team, that they had less capacity for learning how to do their job, for bonding with their teammates. Their complaints were initially dismissed. Eyes were rolled in their direction, people mocked them. But they did not give up, because they had a valid point, because they felt unhappy and uncomfortable and perhaps, maybe, they cried alone in the toilets about it.

That person took a plunge and spoke very openly and honestly in front of the entire company to say that they were unhappy with what had happened. A day later, they were returned to their seat. They instantly felt happier, they felt listened to.

And whilst that person was definitely not me, I understand how they feel. To feel that you are not being listened to, that you have no voice, that you are not as important as others, can be crippling. With the help of my psychotherapist, I am finding my voice. I am learning to say no. I am learning to turn down things that I don't want to do and to ask for things that I want. I speak up if something is not right and I question things that seem odd. God knows I don't always get it right, but that's how you learn.

I find that asking questions takes away some of my anxiety. I feel that saying no empowers me and that asking for things I want is making me happier. So many problems have arisen from keeping quiet, for not talking openly and for assuming rather than asking. I would rather know that I tried and failed than that I sat back and kept quiet. My obsessive thoughts are difficult to contain, they always come out eventually, but when they explode out of my mouth after a few days of worrying, things always seem worse than when I simply voice them as soon as I can. As we all know, nothing is ever as bad as you think it will be. Well, almost always.

So whilst I may have less to put down on (virtual) paper, I do, in fact, have a lot to say. I will just be saying more of it out loud. So expect more questions and maybe, if you're lucky... more complaints!

Not that it was me, of course.

A little bit of mindfulness

That is pretty much what it's like inside my head. A million thoughts rushing at lightning speed, never letting up, never quietening down, never giving respite. So why have I had nothing to say whenever I open up a new post for this blog? How can NONE of the endless, deafening thoughts come together and form something coherent, witty, entertaining, or, at a push, sort of interesting?

Every time I have tried to write something, nothing has come to me. The more I tried, the harder it got. Yet the noise continues. My psychotherapist told me

Woah.

Wait. Stop right there.

Yes. I have a psychotherapist now.

Get me.

I am seeing an amazing therapist once a week and she is really helping me get a grasp on my own feelings and make some great strides. I can chart my changes. I could draw up a time line and add flags to it, big, fancy flags that would flap in the wind, declaring the real and meaningful progress I have made. However as they started to play my national anthem (ok, it's getting rather fanciful, but bear with me) it would just be a giant mess of thousands of instruments playing out of time and way out of tune. I'm getting there, but the orchestra is still in the making.

Where was I? Oh yes, my psychotherapist told me to practice more mindfulness, which I have been making an effort with. For a brief few minutes last week, my mind went quiet as if someone had hit the mute button. It was glorious. I want more. I have set myself reminders to take breaks and to indulge myself in some breathing exercises. To retrain my brain. To rest it.

Of course, mindfulness isn't for everyone, but I do value it and what it does for me. I have had guided sessions in person and with recordings of someone speaking, both of which were very calming and useful to me. I am not a fan of going it on my own, I just can't trust myself to keep the heady rush of thoughts at bay. I like to be able to concentrate on someone else's voice and allow them to take me away. I feel an immediate benefit after the session and am always surprised at how the simple act of conscious breathing can make such a palpable difference.

There are countless studies into the benefits of mindfulness, but even if you are skeptical, it can't be argued that taking a ten minute break from your desk, allowing yourself to relax and take some deep breaths is going to be good for you in one way or the other.

So whilst I know that the noise is not going to disappear, I also know that for a brief amount of time, I can mute it. And for those thoughts that I cannot mute, I can learn to live with, to welcome them. As Rumi said so well:

THE GUEST HOUSE

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond. 

Normal people

I wish I was normal.

You know, normal.

Like all the normal people out there, getting on with their lives.

The ones who are happy. Who aren't awake at 2am, catastrophizing, ruminating, imploring their mind to just be quiet.

The people who didn't spend their evening wondering how on earth they can continue to feel such a barrage of emotion.

Those who live their lives without the distraction of a constant cacophony playing as the soundtrack to their day.

Ah to be normal.

To be without the constant self doubt, worry, terror and hammering heart.

To feel on top of the world, right as rain.

To be normal. To never feel anything but OK.

They're out there, right? The normal people. I just haven't seem to have come across any yet...