Squad goals.

[Date: Monday, 21st August, 2017]  [Mood: Full]  [Song:'Thrift shop'- Macklemore & Ryan Lewis]


It's his birthday today. It doesn't feel right not acknowledging it but it feels intrusive of his space to make contact and gate crash his day.
It's stuff like this that's fucked. There's no etiquette or 'how to' guide to navigate break ups.
In the past it's generally served me well to pretend that the other party have died but that doesn't fit in this instance either..
He deleted me from face book at some point over the weekend, which is his call, I guess.
While it stung for a second, I guess I know where I stand.
I suppose I'll just feel the feelings that have nowhere to go until I don't anymore ?
I mean, what alternative is there ?
I had plans to make a huge fuss despite his protests before everything went slightly sideways but I briefly thought of him this morning instead.
acknowledged the day, the feelings I have that can't really go anywhere and went about my day.

I decided to count my blessings instead, rather than dwell on my losses.
I feel like I'm a million miles away from the girl I was just last Saturday.
Defeated, broken and ready to just give up.
A lot can happen in a week. Especially with a crew like mine.
I think back in my first post (forgive my failing memory) I said something like I hope that everyone is blessed with a rock steady crew to drag them, kicking and screaming through the dark times, violently shoving them towards the light. (I may be slightly paraphrasing, here) Cheering you on to kick life in the dick.

Oh man, am I ever so grateful for mine.
They each bring different elements to the table in terms of personality, attitude, etc. They're so different yet so similar in so many ways.
They're all ham and cheese fucking crazy for starters. (I'm fooling no one here. So am I.)
and they all love me. Without question, without judgement, without any sort of conditions.
Even at my most unlovable.
These are my ride or dies.
These are my 4am folks.

It goes both ways you know, If they need me, I show up. I'm their 4am phone call and I feel beyond blessed to know they're mine.
We often joke amongst ourselves that as soon as gay marriage is legal, We'll just marry each other.
It really boils my piss that society has conditioned us females to believe that we're incomplete without a man.
I don't feel that's even remotely true.
and the notion of having just 1 'soul mate' what a bunch of bullshit.
What man knows you so intrinsically that he can nourish your soul better than your best friends can ?
I guess I'm luckier than most in that regard, 2 of my very best friends happen to be dudes.
But it wouldn't surprise me in the slightest if the loves of my life turn out to be my crew.
(I've always believed it was my dog)

I'm proud of us. We have that fierce lady love. The real, supportive, build you up, call you out on your bullshit type love. The love that drives you to being a better version of you because we know all that you're capable of, while still respecting the limits of the needs of each of us individually.
Ain't none of that high school snitchin' here.
And if one of us hates you, we all hate you. That's just how it works. (you can't sit with us)


I've often lamented on loss, abandonment and people vanishing out of my life for a variety of reasons. (I'm not easy to love at the best of times) but a flip in perspective shows me the last ones standing and they deserve my precious mental real estate.
Friends that tell you they love you are so important.
I've never really been one to do that, primarily because up until recently, with friends I used to have, I didn't really feel it.
'Love' isn't a term I just throw around. In fact, I often say that if I love you, I won't have to tell you. You'll just know. But I remind these guys, as often as possible and I owe them the world for being my ride or dies.

Like I said, I feel like I'm a million miles away from last Saturday but I'd still very much be there if it weren't for their help, support and encouragement.

I know from a social media perspective, it probably looks like I'm kicking life's ass and living the dream. (especially if the photos from the weekend are anything to go by.. but more on that later)
The dream is very much in it's infancy.
I made myself go out on the weekend when every fibre of my being was screaming at me to stay home and hibernate. (quietly hoping the phone would ring)

Those friends of mine can damn near talk me into anything.
They talked me straight into attending the longerenong B&S ball. (yep, I'm an Asian redneck from way back)
While my heart hurts, the distraction of everything I love proved invaluable.
Country music, dirt, whiskey, my ariat boots and my akubra.
(and a few hundred new mates with rum.)

I dressed up, showed up and didn't give up. And be fucked if I wasn't brave when I certainly didn't feel it.
My ball dress had some sort of magical powers, I'm convinced if it. I'm devastated that it was destroyed by food dye and have since scoured eBay in search of a replacement.

It came about Friday night, flicking through my limited wardrobe in search of something to wear.
I don't often wear dresses as I don't often have occasions to dress for and no one wears anything expensive to a B&S ball. The idea is to get messy. Very very messy.
Anyway, I flicked across to this inexpensive, snappy little number I purchased 18 months ago, never worn with the tags still on. Never worn because never before would I have ever dreamed of wearing a dress so short.
there was NO bending over in this little get up !
but between the week long self care and the 'no one gives a fuck' attitude of the B&S crowd, I took the little number out for a spin.
I can't even lie, I was strutting around that ball, oozing confidence.
scratch that, it was whiskey. I was oozing whiskey.
(but my point remains the same)

Through group chat, my crew literally talked me into the dress and on to the ball !
(a shout out must go out to the 2 bras I was wearing to enhance my lack of cleavage, the chicken fillet falsies and the scaffolding that was the bridget jones knickers shape wear, without which, the outfit may never have happened.)

I felt super cute for the first time in a long time. (Maybe because I knew they were cheering on my shenanigans from home)

Things very quickly went from this :

To this :

Yeah, that's food dye. (It's a B&S thing, you probably wouldn't understand)

I had a night surrounded by doing the things I love. I needed a violent reminder to keep loving the things I love and this was very much it.

I love random shenanigans. The nights that are remembered in flashes and the flashes that make you smile in nostalgia for a long time to come.

Monday Musings:

Speaking of the ability to be talked into anything.. I might have smashed out a lazy TWENTY ONE KILOMETRES between the bike & treadmill at the gym this morning while waiting for one of the girls to join me.

Not only could I not even dream of doing that last Monday, never in eleventy seven million years would I have ever contemplated going ALONE.

As much as I am a solitary creature a lot of the time, I don't like trying new or unknown things on my own. I often feel dumb.

It occurred to me today that I had visited James several times, completely solo without a second thought. (look at me go, flying out of my comfort zone, faster than a speeding ticket !)

Not only that but I felt completely comfortable in doing so.

Don't ask me how comfortable I'm likely to feel tomorrow. I introduced one of the girls to my trainer, Michael. I was on the treadmill and texted him about an impromptu training session.

I activated beast mode this morning and felt like a fuckin' BOSS..

Tomorrow, I hold grave fears in not being able to wipe my own lady chamber, let alone being able to sit to utilise the facilities. (whilst on this subject, it has come to my attention that my car is painfully, painfully low. The regret I have at selling my SUV is very, very real)

She'll read this: I love you, please don't stop being my friend because my trainer hurt you. it was your idea that I join the gym in the first place.
Haven't you ever been told to be careful what you wish for ?
The Neish I know wouldn't even have a trainer to text ! (in fact, she'd probably mock you mercilessly for being a gym going wanker.)

The changes made in a week are blowing my mind.
After the disaster of the last few weeks, the greatest gift I could have ever given myself was to shift my perspective and believe that come what may, somewhere in there was a lesson that needed learning. That belief is yet to steer me wrong.
The silver lining out of all this could very well be that I lost a love but I gained a new one in myself. He always told me that I was way too hard on myself.
I think he might have been right. I certainly feel a lot better being much kinder to myself.
Who doesn't love kindness ?
It almost never happens so you may as well start with you.

Self care today consisted of: A slow paced ease into my day with a cup of jasmine tea and my breakfast, tucked up on the couch. (I'm loving this new habit) Booking myself an extra training session for the week. An exercise in taking care of myself and moving forward with my goals and ambitions, rather dwelling on things outside my control and the behaviours of other people. An extra long, hot, shower taking extra time and care in my grooming regime while singing along at the top of my lungs and over dosing on water.

Another little something to carry with me on the daily: ''If you can't see my worth, motherfucker, you should've gone to spec savers." Be damned if i'll stand here and highlight to you, what ought to be as plain as the nose on your face.

I can explain it to you, I can't force you to understand. If you don't understand, you musn't be on my team. If you're not on my team.. Bitch, bye.

"Know your worth. Then add tax." - Random internet meme.

Sea Legs

[Date: Friday, 18th August 2017]   [Mood: Satisfied]  [Song: 'how country feels'- Randy Houser']


Freaked the hell out of the kid this morning, I was up at 6am, on the couch, legs tucked underneath my bum, snuggled into the couch blanket. I was taking my time in getting ready for work, rather than rushing around like a shrieking lunatic.
I don't think in his entire 11 years he's ever seen me up that early and definitely not up that early and completely chilled out. (I enjoy keeping my kids on their toes !)
I had a cup of white jasmine tea and a bowl of muesli and I was slowly enjoying it with all the time in the world to spare before heading off to work.
I always used to think 'he' was mad. He used to (and likely still does) rise at least an hour earlier than required to ease into his day with coffee and a cigarette before going about his morning routine, even if he starts work at 3am. (mad bastard !)
We might not have been together long but he sure did teach me a thing or two.

Hell, I don't even wear make up, purely because I believe that's an extra hour or two of sleep that I'm robbing myself of every morning. (I'm also not very feminine and lazy as fuck. so, there's that.)
There's definitely something in starting your day not stressing. Was even early to work ! That never happens.
Kicked my day off as a shiny beacon of positivity. (with really fucking sore legs!)

Rocked some serious sea legs today, every so often they would tremble and threaten to give way from underneath me.
Shout out to the new kid at work that could see I was in a world of hurt and kindly bent to collect the things from the floor that I had clumsily dropped. (you're a prince among men, mate!)

There's a bench at work that customers usually sit on to try on shoes, it looked like an ideal spot for a few step ups in a particularly overly enthusiastic moment.
the sock drawer was slightly ajar, I kicked it closed, yelped in pain from the fire in my thighs and quickly put that stupid step up idea to bed.

I painfully powered my way through work and made my way to see James.
(it would seem that I never fucking learn !)
I might have had to hoist myself up the stairs with the aid of the guide rail but I managed a sweaty hour on jelly legs and left feeling content with my efforts.
A new playlist of booty shakin' jams never goes astray either. (90's R&B, all the way !)

Got in a little self love by way of a visit to one of my dear friends that also happens to be my hairdresser. The only thing more peaceful than having someone else wash your hair would have to be being in a coma. For real. (I think. I don't actually know for sure)
When my head is in that basin, I don't have a single problem in the world.
I deeply appreciate her artistry, I can't look like a scruffy cunt on drugs all the time, people would talk. (Not that I'd actually care what they've got to say, mind you.)
For someone that has rather high maintenance hair and generally takes it pretty seriously, I
A. rarely brush it.
B. wash it myself even less than that.

Whenever I sit in her chair, I honest to god don't know how or why she doesn't kick me repeatedly for undoing all her good work. But I always leave looking, feeling and even smelling more amazing than when I entered. Contrary to what I look like a lot of the time, my personal grooming regime is important to me but it's somewhat of a team effort.

A little more self love for dinner.. one of my best friends and I finally indulged in the Thai dinner we'd been fantasising about all week. One of the quickest ways to my heart would have to be Tom Yum soup. Was so good, I ordered it for Entrée AND Dinner !
Seriously, It's like giving your tummy a really spicy hug.
Self care/Self love doesn't have to be huge grand gestures. Sometimes, all it takes is a bowl of soup to make your world a better place.

Random Friday Musings:

Often, in the car I'll just zone out. It's often where I do a lot of my thinking. Some people do it on the mug, I tend to do it hurtling along the backroads at 110k's.
it occurred to me.. 'The most inclement sea will always present you with the same two options.. Sink or swim, motherfucker !'
So here I am, swimming like my life fucking depends on it. Because, it does.
No one else is going to fight for my happiness, it's up to me to glove up and jump in the ring.
(No matter how many times life kicks my ass like I'm a wayward step child)

Someone that I deeply respect and admire told me something important today. (seriously guys, she's life goals, she's one of those 'makes the world a better place' just by being alive, type of people)
She said: "Harmony is never found without chaos. Only the broken have wings.''
Just today alone I've got 3 new philosophies to carry with me while I kick life in the dick.



"If it's what's inside that counts, I guess that makes me tacos and anxiety." - Feminine Funk.

Oh, my aching ass.

[Date: Thursday, 17th August, 2017]  [Mood: aching]  [Song: 'Hey Jealousy' - Gin Blossoms]

I won the challenge yesterday. I didn't cry. (go team!)

Today however, is a completely different kettle of fish. (think less emotional pain and more physical pain.)

Where the hell did Thursday go ? Oh, that's right, I completely slept through it.
On the sleep front, it's either feast or famine around here, seriously.
Last night, after the TWO sessions with James (that I fucking smashed by the way)
I must have been tired.

After hoovering down some dinner, (I was fucking ravenous !)
I performed a little self care ritual, Hot shower, hot water bottle and a hot cup of sleepy tea.
(it's herbal tea available from T2 stores, nationwide. I swear, it contains rohypnol)
I'm not sure what happened after that.
All I know is that I woke up later than usual, I must have straight up passed out.
My phone was on my pillow beside me, uncharged and no alarm set. whoopsy !

Hustling the junior to school in my jammies (which I often do, late or not)
I came home and ate breakfast.
Yes.
Breakfast.

Anyone that knows me knows damn well that I'm not an eat during the day type person.
(unfortunately for my metabolism) I'm also a don't eat when I'm stressed or anxious person either.
For someone my size, surprisingly, I don't eat often at all. (but when I do.. watch me stuff all the things into my face hole. All of them)

On the advice of my trainer last night (more about that shortly) He advised that I start eating.
ugh. okay, okay !
So, since I had the day off, I made it into a little self care ritual.
Everything hurt and I felt like I was dying so I heated up a hot water bottle, remained in my jarmies and took my muesli with me, back to bed.
(I often eat in bed. as often as possible. My dining table is for building lego. No, I don't care what you think)

So, I'm in there, in my cozy sheets, bowl of muesli/berries/lactose free yoghurt balanced precariously on my tummy with my book in one hand and a spoon in the other.
and.. that's all I remember.
I woke up in time for the school run.

I had every intention upon eating lunch but I clearly slept through that.. and I've had plans for days to catch up with a friend for burgers tonight.. (treat yo'self, girl !) Neatly undoing everything I did with James yesterday.

Speaking of which..

7:30 last night saw me roll in to the gym for the second time in the same day.. (can I just take a moment to marvel at that occurance ? for someone that had been maybe once in the past 15 years.. what the what, now ?!)
Met my trainer, Michael. At least, he said his name was Michael. I was calling him 'Holy shit sauce, are you SERIOUS ?'
Nice guy.
We spoke a little of my óbjectives' once again.
I tried not to snicker out loud. I failed.
So, I broke it down for him. 'I'm here to literally out run my problems. At present, my 'run' is less 'run' and more of a 'brisk waddle', that's where you come in, my friend. And if we've got time, I want the kind of thighs that will crush the soul of the next man to ever fuck with me.'
We reached an understanding.
He encouraged me to learn to pee standing and exit the premises using the guide rail that leads down the stairs. (side note: STAIRS when exiting the gym is just plain cruelty in my book. who's idea even was that ?)
We did eleventy five billion squats, THE END. (Not really, but we did fuck tonnes and my legs doth protesteth, today.)

Random Thursday Musings:

Yesterday, I absolutely fell in love with leaving the gym. (wait, wait, let me explain)
despite the fact that every muscle, tendon and nerve in my body was screaming for mercy and I was almost certain I could feel my pee boiling in my bladder, moments away from blowing a head gasket.. The feeling of leaving is the best. When I step out of the doors, I'm immediately enveloped into a hug from the gentlest breeze that lasts all the way on the short walk to my car. You guys, it's the best feeling ever. (or, you know.. it's probably just the endorphins that has me shitting positivity)

Something else I love: It's random as all get out but I love watching my washing dry on the washing line. It sounds all whimsy and wanky, I know. but I don't care. I'm easily pleased.
I can get lost for ages, just staring at it flicker around in the breeze. I caught myself doing it for a few minutes this afternoon.. just twirling in the rain. (fuck you, Melbourne weather. seriously)


I bought myself a little treat last week (I do this often, regardless of financial status. sometimes present neish makes future neish cranky with her impulsive decisions) In this instance it wasn't expensive, just a cheapy perfume from the chemist.
A girl from work wears it, and it's the most gorgeous scent (bvlgari crystalline) I don't think it suits me at all, but I love it anyway. It reminds me of her. She has the best heart, one of those pure souls in the world that you only ever wish the very best for.
It's comforting in an odd way. Scent is my strongest sense. Fragrance is like a portal of time travel to me, instantly taking me back to whichever moment I associate the smell to. I love that.

While the urge to wag a date with James is strong.. (I've pumped out 4 sessions in the past 3 days.. I know I'll be irritated with myself if I don't.) So, off I go.
Climbing the stairs into the joint ought to be interesting..

Update 6:42pm

LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL. I'm not going. So, there. Myself can be irritated with myself all it fucking likes. There's no way in hell I'm getting into the joint without the help of a cherry picker hoisting me through a window. Lets be honest, here. Stairs ? today ? Fuck. Off.
Alternate point: Tomorrow is another opportunity to try again.



" I like long walks on the beach, big dicks and fried chicken." - Jujubee.

not today, Satan. not today.

[Date: Wednesday, 16th August, 2017]  [Mood: Rough]  [Song: 'Song #3' - Stone Sour]


I woke this morning feeling rougher than sandpaper undies. I slept like shit last night, I grew used to his warm, often slightly sweaty body beside me most nights that he wasn't working. I missed the window to take a sleeping tablet so I was left with very little choice other than to tough it out.
Sadly, I couldn't summon the strength to hold one of my new books (I'm sure my bingo wing arms will thank you, one day James.. but today ain't that day !)
And putting on a movie didn't provide the distraction that I hoped it would.
He was on my mind. Nothing new there. He often is.
I finally managed to snatch a few hours sleep in the wee hours.

I knew today was going to be rough from the moment I opened my eyes.
That familiar heaviness in my chest was back.
I don't know if I've finally run out of endorphins or adrenalin to live off of but here we are.

So, I set myself a bit of a challenge. I said, 'Kid.. I reckon we can not cry in bed today'.
(I often refer to myself as 'Kid' when I'm having a bit of a self chat)
I felt I was on the verge of losing the battle when every single sad song in my playlist decided to come on in succession on the school run this morning.. (for fucks sake, seriously ?!) never have I skipped so many songs so quickly and force of habit was like a gravitational pull back to the sanctuary of my bed.

So I set about flipping the shit out of my day by yep, you guessed it.. 'Self love.'
Christ, we really need to come up with an alternate title that means essentially the same thing. It's gotten to the point where I cringe, even thinking it. It feels so trite.

I wanted to keep the momentum of the past few days going, I wanted to conjure up sunny, sub conscious feelings of optimism and hope with a view to eventually feeling it.
(fake it til you make it !)

I'm not kidding myself, I'm a leading expert on knowing that wobbly days will and do happen, no matter how strong your will may be.
But the main objective was to adjust the focus, alter the coping mechanisms and see if I could power through with a new view. It's okay to not be okay, It's not okay to unpack and live there.

It started off with a cup of green tea, on the couch sitting in the sliver of sun that shone through the windows. Normally, in this dark mood I would be almost angry at the sun for daring to shine when I felt so cloudy inside. Instead, I remembered that he loves the sun.
he often sat in that very same spot, shirt off, laying on the couch, enjoying the warmth through the window.
Rather than feel dark inside, I tried to smile and thought that wherever he is, whatever he's up to... I hope he's got the sun on his skin. (just typing that, I'm blinking furiously, trying not to cry. so far, I'm winning.)

I took myself off for a shower in an attempt to get some relief into these aching muscles. Shit must be serious, I could barely navigate the shower sponge around my body, my arms were crying in protest.
(fuck you, James. Seriously)
Never the less, I persisted with the fancy, expensive soaps once again and lathered the fuck up !
By a bit of fortuitous luck, I remembered a gift card I had in my purse from my birthday for a massage. checking it was still valid, I dragged myself to the shops to redeem it.
I had an oily, blissful half an hour, face down in silence.
He was still on my mind.. but I remembered that when we first started talking and getting to know each other, he said something along the lines of I needed to make more time for myself. (I think that was the day I sent him a text of my feet, mid-pedicure)
So, I took his advice and literally thought of the colour black for 30 minutes. inky, black nothingness.
It helped to switch my mind off and I even felt sleepy and relaxed when it was over.

On the drive home, the sun was warming me through the windows of my car and of course, the one song that always reminds me of him comes on. (Song#3 by stone sour) My finger hovered over the button to skip it.. but I thought, Fuck it.
I cranked that shit up loud, belted it out at the top of my lungs and hosted a really shit, one woman mobile concert at eleventy three billion decibels all the way home because that's what I always did when I was happy.
I thought to myself, I hope he does the same, someday soon. I know he loves that song too.

I'm back in 'his spot' on the couch, typing this out and feeling less heavy in the chest.
And I haven't cried yet, I'd say that's mission accomplished, wouldn't you ?

I'm even considering a walk in the sun. He always used to tell me how much a walk outside could change your mind set. Might give it a crack and see if he's right ? (he was, sometimes)


Random Wednesday Musings:

The one (and probably only) time I've been glad of my rock steady stubbornness is now.(being a hard headed cow has its perks !) I'm relying on it to carry me through this shift in perspective and if sheer stubbornness alone is what fuels my momentum for now, then so be it.

People often say that your mind is your most powerful asset. They also say that you're always much stronger than you think. I've often thought that people are full of shit but I appear to be proving them right. (and we all know how much I love being wrong)
So I begrudgingly admit that they *might* be on to something.
I simply decided that I refused to drown and I'll be fucked if that isn't what's happening right now.
I accept that I probably won't win every single day but trying to, is half the battle won.

Also, I need to ease up on the cheesy empowering/motivational lines. As true as they may be, They don't feel authentic to me. Probably not enough profanity.
I need a way to make the exact same point without sounding quite so stale. (I know ! I'll add more profanity!)
and by no means am I a pom pom waving cheerleader for major life change or any of that wankery.
I'm just an ordinary girl, trying to stay afloat by any means necessary.

One more bullshit line before I go, one I need to tell myself way more often than I currently do..
'There's minimal real estate in your mind. Choose your investments wisely.'
I'm satisfied with my investment for today. Can't help but hope it'll make a return though.

Christ, I'm like a fat dalai lama. break up with ones boyfriend and I'm suddenly shitting wisdom.

Anyone care to tell me why the hell I'm paying a therapist ?

Update: 6:47pm.

While I felt yucky and restless for some of the day, I didn't quite get out for a walk in the sunshine, I went to see James instead. (in my defence, it started to rain)
My mindset was: Keep moving. Keep moving til you can't feel a fucking thing.
It very literally ended up being the case, I spent an hour going harder and faster than yesterday if only to expel that restless energy to the point where my finger tips were numb as well as my shins.
I have strong suspicions that the personal trainer will own my ass in about 30 minutes when I'm due back there. I'm just hoping the outcome is: I'm tired enough to sleep.

I've come home to shower before my next session. Yes. I smell THAT bad.
And if the smell wasn't quite enough, the swamp ass seals the deal. You know, the unholy
pool of sweat that congregates in the crack of your ass when one indulges in excessive movement..(form an orderly queue, fellas !) or when you just exist in general in a northerly wind on a 40 degree day. 
A group text to the girlfriends: 'Help ! my car smells bad!'
The general consensus was it wasn't my car that smells bad, so much as me.
Tell me something, Is it like the tree that falls in the forest when no one is around to hear it..
Do you really smell that bad if no one is around to smell it ?
one of the great mysteries of the universe, I suppose.




"My goal is to always come from a place of love. But sometimes you just have to break it down for a motherfucker." - RuPaul.

You've come a long way, baby.

[Date: Tuesday, 15th August. 2017]  [Mood:sore] [Song: 'Rack City' - Tyga]


Buckle up, kids ! This could be a long one.
I should probably start at the beginning but truth be told, I'm not sure where that even is.
Today ? or two years ago ?

Today saw me return for a second date with 'James'. (get used to that reference, that's never going to be not funny to me)
I achieved a little more than yesterday and you know something ? I'm a bit proud of myself.
Hell, if you'd even so much as hinted at the idea of me attending the gym last week, I would have asked if you were on crack.
Not only did I attend for a second time today, I even booked a personal training session for tomorrow night. Just to dip my toe in that particular pool to see if it's my thing.
I enquired at the front counter about rates and such and left my details for a trainer to get in touch.
They asked about my objectives.
can we all just take a second to chuckle at that ?

MY. OBJECTIVES.

Oh honey, I'd like to just climb the steps into the joint without feeling winded.
Also, not sweating while I eat would be aces.
And if we've got time,it would be super if shaving my legs in the shower didn't resemble yoga with a side of jelly wrestling. (you're welcome for that visual, by the way)
So on the piece of paper with my contact details, under óbjective' I jotted down 'Would like to run and not die.' That should sum shit up rather nicely.
The reality of the situation is my objective is to stay afloat.

It's no secret that I battle sketchy mental health on the daily.
Christ, the past week alone that I've had would bury a lesser girl. Never mind the 2 years that preceded it.
The fact of the matter is, I'm willing to try anything to stay afloat.
I cannot afford to drown.
So, here we are.

I said to one of my girlfriends just yesterday, I'll die when I run out of options.
loosely translated, there's no giving up when the options are almost limitless.
If that means surviving on endorphins for now, so be it.

This whole Gym/James thing makes me laugh. It was only a few months ago on my tinder profile (I know, I know) that I made my stance on the gym very clear. I believe it read something along the lines of 'Does not attend the gym. Unless the gym has couches and cake.'
I also described myself as 'brainier than Kurt Cobains' ceiling.'I can't have been entirely repulsive, it did land me a boyfriend with a sense of humour as equally broken as mine. (yep, still missing him like crazy)

Today as a whole is just blowing my mind.
On this day last year, I was hurting, really, really hurting. Much like I am now, really. but for entirely different reasons.
I was a year on from losing someone I love. It had been 365 whole days without that person in my life. I was a whole year away from my old life.
The year before, (2015) I lost my favourite person in the whole world. I begged with everything I had in me to go too. I didn't want to be in any sort of world that he wasn't.
At the same time, my relationship of 10 years, came to an end. (shittiest timing ever, or what ?)
The next year that followed was basically an incredibly steep learning curve of re training and man, did I ever learn some hard lessons. Christ, I'm STILL learning, 2 years on.
cancel that. It wasn't a 'learning curve' so much as a fucking baptism by fire.
This time last year, I was bewildered, overwhelmed and still in very much a state of disbelief at how my entire world as I knew it could implode so quickly.

But. I survived.
When the odds were against me, (by the skin of my fucking teeth some days) I prevailed.

Today, makes me chuckle a little at the thought that I'm hurting. really, really hurting for entirely different reasons once again but, I'm also prevailing.
What choice have you got when failure isn't an option ?
(still very much bewildered and overwhelmed a lot of the time) *sigh* The more things change, the more they stay the same, am I right ?

Today, I've reflected on lessons I've learned these past 2 years. These are things I carry with me every single day.

1. Forward is forward, it doesn't matter if it's a centimetre at a time, forward is still forward.

2. The fast track to disappointment is believing that everyone has the same heart that you do.
(this one still regularly bites me in the ass with a good ol' reality check that never hurts any less.)

3. Ain't nobody happy unless I'm happy.
For as long as I can remember, I wasn't a priority. I didn't make myself a priority nor did others. You can imagine how that went down, right ?
(it took some intense therapy to retrain myself to believe that it's okay to put me first ! If you don't, no one else is going to ! and here I am telling you for free. - You're welcome)

4. I can't be responsible for the happiness of others.
(This one kills me. But it's taken me a very long time to learn that I can't save my loved ones from hurt. It took me a long time to learn and only minutes to remember.. Believe me, I would if I could. No amount of trying will ever make it so.  Believe me, I've tried,)




Random Tuesday musings:

Something that made me snort with laughter today. This text from one of my closest friends..

The person or persons that decided 'whatever doesn't kill you, makes you stronger'. I owe that guy a kick in the dick. For real.
I don't know who it was that decided that I was some sort of superhero or fucking ninja or some shit but boy, did they severely overestimate my capabilities.
Same goes for the dick bag that coined the term 'You were given this life because you're strong enough to handle it.'
(I know you can't see me right now, just know that i'm absolutely giving the finger to THAT guy.)

People often comment about my inner strength. Look, I wont lie, my inner strength could bench press a fucking bus. But ! believe me when I tell you, I get tired. tired to the marrow of my fucking bones, guys. I am certainly not indestructible.
and you know something ? That's okay !
(even if it isn't, I don't fucking care)
I tell myself it's okay to be tired. It's not okay to unpack and live there.
When you feel tired, I sincerely hope you have a crew like mine to carry you through.
I'm blessed to be backed by an army of some incredible people that love me. Flaws and all.
I don't know how they do it but I'm grateful that they do.

Fuck, my mind is a funny thing.
Only days ago, I was open mouthed, snot crying in bed (yes, I know. not my finest half hour)
I couldn't see any sort of hope on the horizon.
I was taking 3 different types of daily medication just to function.
My hands permanently trembled from anxiety. (trying to text was a sheer fucking delight)
Now look at me go, all positive philosophies. (if that's a side effect of the medication, please keep that shit coming !)
I'm down to just 1 daily medication, I only seem to tremble when I'm with James and my heart beat is at 180BPM.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not shitting rainbows and affirmative declarations just yet, but forward is still forward.

You know something ? I've never tried cocaine because I was always lead to believe that it could cause your heart to explode. (and if I could realistically afford a recreational drug habit, don't you think I would have one by now ??)
Guess what ? Being built like a fridge and supremely unfit, motoring along on treadmill like a clown with a chainsaw is chasing you, will yield similar results. You don't need to try cocaine, kids ! now you know. (or a treadmill with your heart rate at 180 BPM for 30 minutes, for that matter)

There was no such opportunity to stew in my stanky sweaty juices today.
(unlike yesterday)
Lord above, I was FUNKY. (Think less James Brown and more, blue cheese mixed with feet mixed with 6 month old road kill)
A sign that I had had a productive afternoon. Productive, yet stinky.

You'll be pleased to know that I've done my research by way of a 3 kilometre bike ride on a stationary bike. The pap smear courtesy of captain hook that I mentioned yesterday ?
I'm pretty confident that it would feel much like riding that stationary bike.
That seat ? This bum ? Lord Jesus, NO.

I rewarded myself with a little self love ritual. (Can I just say, the term 'self love', I can't decide if it's pure porno or pure wankery. **no genitals were touched in the creation of this musing**)
As much as I don't like the term 'self love' I did some nice shit for myself, post date with James.
Like I mentioned yesterday, I changed my bed linen to my coziest set this afternoon on my arrival home and took an ultra long shower, shaved the fuck out of my legs using really expensive soap that was a gift from a customer at work. (wait. was she trying to tell me something ?) Never the less, it was the super fancy kind that I'd never think to buy for myself.

I got home to a parcel on the doorstep. Can I just take a minute to announce how much I fucking LOVE parcels when I arrive home ?
If you online shop as much as me, the contents are often a mystery, adding to the belief that it's like a present to yourself.. from yourself ! Tell me that that's not a win ??
In today's case it was a delivery of books.
The perfect post gym present.
Past Neish sure is a fucking legend, sometimes. She seems to know exactly what I need.


'She's large, in charge. Chunky, yet funky. The bold and beautiful.' - Latrice Royale.