Sunday, January 4, 2015

I'm ok with old people teeth.

First, my apologies for the non blogging. The last year has been a mindfuck. My head became my worst enemy. Basically, I forgot my zen, my writing, my me.  Recently, I was faced with the news I am to lose all my top teeth. This being no surprise to me as my teeth are monumentally fucked. How does one lose their teeth when one is relatively young and reasonably ok looking? And don't even get me going on the whole 'anxiety-in-the-chair' bullshit.

The treatments began, and oh wow, they were as to be expected. Total hell. See, the good news is, I was able to keep my bottom teeth. But not without lots of work. I have been sorta, kinda, maybe anxiety free for the last five years. Meaning, panic disorder had taken somewhat of a back seat to my actual life. But being back in the chair, that soon changed. Next thing I knew, I was panicking everyday, and needless, driving my ever-patient partner up the freaking wall. Love you babe. 

Alongside my torture, was the tennis match of my self esteem. One does not simply be ok with false teeth. Especially when one polls peers and strangers and the overwhelming response is negative. "Omg! I could never do that!" "Why wouldn't you just go to Thailand and get implants?" "Dentures? They're for old people." However, faced with no choice, these babies were coming out no matter what my sub-conscious felt about the situation. Implants are off the table. At at least 40,000 a pop, Australian, (Thailand is not an option) I had to be cool with this. Besides, I can barely go through a crown without breaking down, no way was I going the whole implant procedure. Way we figured it, this is the best interim-at-least choice. Maybe in time, I can be strong enough to handle implants. 

However, being down with this decision still meant work on acceptance.  I watched YouTube videos of other young women who had gone through what I'm about to, and it was somewhat comforting. They looked gorgeous. 

My anxiety was still a problem. Knowing I couldn't go on in this state, thinking of death every day. fighting the flight, walking the ledge, I needed a way out. So, yesterday, I started meditating, I went back to my interest in Buddhism, hoping to turn the interest into a lifestyle. A big believer in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), I've pulled out the old strategies (my phone is currently going off every two hours with positive talk, beats the hell out of that negative shit), which includes the visual tool of what I now like to call 'Birds'. Each time a negative thought (i.e. the terrifying image of me in the chair) occurs, I instantly visualise a startled flock of blackbirds taking off against a grey sky. This is the image of my thoughts leaving. I'm one step away from tattooing positive phrases on one of my limbs. 

Can't say how I'll be next week. But for all you out there suffering, talk to me kids. Let's do this anxiety shit together.  

Saturday, November 10, 2012

Wtf? Would it kill ya to smile?

The only folks I come across, whilst on my bike, who are friendly and polite and genuinally happy towards me, are the older and the younger. I wizz past the old fella with his dog, an older lady doin' her thing, kids, wee kids, mums & kids, an old couple I'd like to be one day, still holding hands, still in love (or maybe they just met?), I smile & wave and chortle 'Hi!!' and they smile and sing back, something nice, something interesting, something funny.

I smile at a lycra dude, aplogising cos I'm kind of living in the moment, speed wind in my face and paying no heed to the lane direction. He growls at me, 'yeah, go ahead and take both lanes...' miserable tosser.

We're out with the kids, obviously much slower on the trail this way. To the couple racing up behind us, I smile and say,  'hi, sorry, are we in your way? 'I'll move over.'
'No, just go faster...' he grumbles.
I fair wanted to challange him to a bike race right there. Yeah...like to see you beat my Felt on that thing.

I don't want to be like them.

Why does the human race constantly have to fill itself up with near-sighted, narrow-minded, racist, bigoted, nasty dregs? Ok, harsh? But come on. Is even polite decency beyond the effort in our flailing society? Impolite cyclists maybe a stretch in comparison to the blear and dispair of our abusive, murderous, often beyond bearable universe, but if you can't even show civility out in the glorious sun, man, we're truly fucked.

Friday, August 10, 2012

Scrag & Dog. A love story.

There's this woman, let's call her...scrag; and this guy, let's call him dog. And they are observed. His wife a status symbol as he spends every elicit moment with another. Her flirtatious swing of wee skirt ought to know better when it swishes in the direction of his gold band, and yet, not. It doesn't register. Or worse...it does.

That moment, the one in which another's trust and love is carefully decided to be pathetic. She probably deserved it anyway right? All those years of non-trust. Leads a person it does.

And so, Scrag & Dog continue in their 'friendship'. While the wife plans holidays over the ironing of his shirts. Where the wife thinks how lucky she is to have found 'the one' in a fish pond of algae.

Trust is word with many colours yet its meaning is quite, gray. One must have it to co-exist. It means blame. It means faith. It means hope. It means despair. It means a shared offering.

Trust; I'm lousy at it. And ultimately, this could be my undoing.

Scrag & Dog, I hope, believe in Karma. Cos they sure don't help the rest of us.

This I'm working on. Along with all else. It's about the pursuit of happiness. It's not an easy journey.

How 'bout you? How do you trust? Or don't you?


Sunday, June 24, 2012

Manipulation excerpt

Monday, June 11, 2012

Do you see what I see?

Self perception posits that folks develop attitudes by observing their behaviour and concluding what attitudes must have caused said behaviour. Folks decide on their own attitudes and feelings from watching themselves behave in particular situations. Self perception can be poison. Self Concept is a multi-dimensional construct that refers to one's perception of 'self' in relation to characteristics, eg. academics and nonacademics, sexuality and racial identity, et al. Self esteem being the evaluative element. Basically, if you think, therefore you am...

So, my point? I was watching an exhilarating new telly show with my beloved recently, in my pjs, in my bed hair & in my comfort. The lead actress is beautiful. To me. Her lips full, her clear green eyes intriguing, despite, or because of her lack of make up. I immediately felt inferior. I said to my beloved, "She's beautiful..." His response was, "Are you kidding me? You're way better looking than she is."

& you want to know something? He meant it. Researchers debate when self-concept development begins but agree on the importance of a person's life. & you guessed it, a parent's gender stereotypes and expectations impact children's understandings of themselves by approx age 3. No wonder we're fucked, right? I'm not so sure on that one, I speculate that around 7 or 8, development begins to depend upon abilities, interpretations & feedback from all those surrounding, & on into adult hood.

Our environment influences. A person's self-concept is influenced by behaviours & cognitive & emotional outcomes via academic achievements, happiness, anxiety, social integration and life satisfaction.

The message is simple: if we pamper those insecurities until they're bloated, abject superiors with the right of way in our lateralised cognitive processes, we're dog food.

Hearing his words, of course, after I melted some & felt love & mush, I reflected on the inevitable insecurities, the plague of inferiority, the relentless self-scrutiny we ladies dress ourselves in daily. How do so many strong, successful, attractive, but most of all intelligent, females continue to second guess when confronted with the picture of another whom we consider beautiful.

Am I so small in my thinking that I would consider my devoted partner would pat me on the head, kiss my cheek and see-you-round me with the bat of another beautiful eye? Sure, I've been mislead, I've been lied to, I've been broken, but that was then. Get over it.

Distance your negative self and bring forth your positive self.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

how fat is too fat? and should we be 'ok' with it?

I've been thinking alot about Triglycerides. Or rather, the elements that make up our fat. The contributions. The mind-set. The risk factors. Triglycerides are the mechanism for storing unused calories. Their high concentration in blood correlates with the consumption of starchy and other high carbohydrate foods. In other words, yup, 'you are what you eat'.

It's not that one bucket of chips. It's not that one block of chocolate (well, actually it might be that), it's that bucket and that block and that huge 750 calorie dinner and that bowl of ice-cream after and that packet of m&ms and...yeah, you get my point.

We live, many of us, in denial. We eat crap. We don't excersise, drink too much and smoke. Um, death wish much? Triglycerides facinate me. As does much of the inner workings surrounding the machine that is our body. We 'think' we're ok, cos we can actually go on living like this for a long time before any effects begin to become permanant. We skip breakfast, make up for it at lunch or dinner or extra snacks along the way. The lifestyle we lead has a direct impact on our longevity, our mental health, our relationships, our looks and our brain power.

Western culture today has it so wrong. We are so educated, in comparison to our ancestors. so what's our excuse? Personally, I think we've all become a bunch of lazy arses. Western society has sheltered us. We live in a protected environment, we drive to work due to geographical expansion therefore necessating harmful emissions. We practically live online. When was the last time you went outside and played a game of anything with your family or took a walk in the park with a lover? Most of us are so bloody busy who has time for good food and excersise?

It's actually very easy to look after our selves (Within reason: token qualifier). Eat in moderation. Excersise regulary. Give up the ciggys. Drink less. Voila. Healthy enough. But I watch so many do all this arse-about. Ignoring the signs. Ignoring the messages. Teaching their kids 'it's ok to love your self the way you are. It's natural.' Well, let me tell you, there's nothing natural about obesity. Atherosclerosis is a condition where an artery wall thickens as a result of the accumulation of fatty materials like cholesterol and can lead to heart disease and stroke. Natural enough for ya?
Get off your bottoms. Go for a walk. Put down the triple choc layer cake. The pyschology behind this is simple. Life is better when you're active.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Are you being abused?

The signs

The things I want to know from you, are the following. Are you happy? Are you a woman who is controlled? Do you ever think, maybe this is not all there is to my life?

If this is you, you’re not alone. Domestic Violence, (DV) also known as Family Violence is something many women suffer. And it’s a terrible way to live. Someone close to you; your husband, your carer, or even a family member may be hurting you. DV is also not always physical. You could be suffering from emotional or verbal abuse, and believe it or not, even financial abuse. You and your children may be trapped and have no idea how to get out. This is unacceptable and you need to leave.

Don’t panic. It’s not as scary as it sounds. And life is so great on the other side.

What is it?

Emotional Abuse (verbal) is a technique used by a partner to control and dominate. He will tell you you’re worthless, nobody else could ever want you; you’re fat, ugly, stupid. Often teamed with the physical threat, this can prove crippling to women who after a time begin to believe.

You may over time become isolated socially as his hold over you becomes stronger, until you find yourself putting off friends, family and acquaintances to keep him happy. Social Abuse may be hard for you to talk about and you keep what is going at home to yourself, lying to those around you.

You may find you are controlled in less obvious ways, such as; you’ve become financially dependent upon your husband. Financial Abuse is when your partner has control over the money, possibly only dealing out exactly what you need week-to-week in order to feed the family and fill the car with petrol.

Physical Abuse is when he hurts you. Punching, kicking, strangling, pinching, slapping and pushing you around. It’s all the same. Not good enough. I know you’re scared. But it’s time to find you.


What you can do

It can be overwhelming, leaving. The first step is to talk to someone. Talking leads to action, eventually. This can be a terrifying prospect to you right now, I get it. But you have to start. From there, you could be on your way to a real life. One that doesn’t involve pain and heartache and trauma for you and your kids.

If you need to be careful, when looking at websites, like my own, and the ones containing help lines, then please take the care you need to. Go out of the house, when he’s at work. Go to an internet cafe. Look it up there. But do it. Take the first step, and confide in someone. Even if it’s me. And dare to dream that there could be something else out there for you. Someone better.

I’m not about to tell you that it’s going to be easy. It’s not. But it’s a finite period. Whatever you go through afterwards will pass. You must keep yourself safe in that time. If you need a shelter. Use it! These provisions are there for your own safety and wherever you are is better than being with him. Use the police, use the courts and get your self trained in self-defence.

You have a right to be safe. You have a right to be happy. You have a right to your own interests. I know it takes energy to start a new life. But I also know how much energy it’s taking for you to live the one you’ve got right now.

Please stay safe. I repeat; learn how to fight.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Password please...


Media. Before we know it, we'll be set to log in by the open of an eye. So few of us are offline. How much of our lives are lived on the outside? We parent, work, socialise, shop and network We even job hunt via the Internet. Digital footprints shall haunt us forever.

I wonder, at the Rimbaud, the Picasso, & of course, the Shakespeare, I wonder at the 'profile'; of their 'presence'. Would they be the figures they are, if the labyrinth of technology had been the reigning complexity within their time. Would the intricacy of applied science; activated & correlated have caused consternation between the Vernes & Wildes. Would we have seen Woolfe, brazen in her collection of movements of defining & defending equal political social & economic rights for women, pioneer a way of thinking? Or how 'bout Marx; the philosopher, historian & social scientist, was surely the most influential socialist thinker to emerge from the 19th century.

My point, is would these, those of whom became great, have stood from the crowd? Or would their works have been mispent amongst the gross masses humming along the wires.

I, myself, am an irrefutable enjoyer of the Net, but I am led to wonder at how little we really achieve in the face of hours spent ensuring we have the exact amount of online presence during our quest for success. There's something to be said for logging off. Something to be said for the handwritten word. I fear for the lost art of stranger-to-stranger conversing; we're so afraid of eye-contact & it's often violent repercussions that we prefer to stride out in solo ignorance, encased firmly behind our protective Suit of Armour: the iPod.

Whilst living behind your avatar, don't forget the simplicity of life. It's still there. It's still ours.  

Sunday, July 24, 2011

T & A: what the?

Is it just me, or is there an epidemic on the amount of T&A shoved down our throats lately?  Every goddamn telly show, it's in the movies, & on the Internet. I join twitter, I'm inundated with requests for www.hardcore girls etc etc...My fiance joins, he gets his pick of the classless spreads.

We watch movies and I find myself IMDBing the parental guide, so I'm for-armed ahead of time, kind of like preparing for battle. We surf the net and tweet and fb and lordy, oh my, there's boobs and bits and nasty pics screaming out 'Look at me!' Just look look look!

Of course, it's always been there. And one click of the button you have tasty treats (if that's your thang) in secs. It's the incessant 'call-centre' mentality that's driving me to raise a banner and march to the beat of 'no more titties!'.  

Question is, when did I become such a prude? Since I found 'the one'? I'm sure I didn't mind a bit of the old saucy before now...Is it like when you're pregnant and you every where you look is pregnant chicks?

Or am I that insecure I can't handle my fella accidentally encountering a bit of the nudy stuff.

I'd like to say I'm outraged 'for the kids'. And what they may stumble across. Cause deary me it's a minefield. But I'm not sure I wouldn't be fibbing somewhat and in reality, I just ain't as cool as I used to be.

Oh lord, will I be one of those old deary's with the pursed thin lips?
Please, Madam, this is most inappropriate...

Monday, July 18, 2011

Use it or lose it.

So I've struggled to write recently. Not because it's not there. More that I can't seem to find the time. I'm working full-time & home-time means a whole other world of work. I find the lack of words a constant source of anguish. So, the moon is full & the crazies are dyed obnoxious--surely there's winding cobbled path I can follow them along?

Oscar Wilde & Jules Verne surely faced the uncertainty of a blank page coupled with bleeding gape of inactivity.

Maybe it's a baby-step thing...

Cracked

The Picture of Dorian Gray got me thinking about a topic that's been on my mind lately. Are 'we' obsessed with looks? How much of our behaviour is based on how we feel about ourselves? Do you step out with your best face forward, or do you hide behind a mask? If one was given the 'gift' of eternal youth, at what age would you settle for? Twenty? Thirty? Younger? Imagine looking out, aged & wise, from behind beauty & smooth. Would you? Should you?

Recently I conducted an experiment by posting an altered image of myself on facebook. I was surprisingly less confident in my communications, yet I, in my usual form, am wrought with insecurities as it is. We fight constantly to accept ourselves. & it's a joke. If we can't do it, who the hell else is going to?

Something to think about before we go influencing our kids.