Category: Social

People and practices

May I buy a vowel please?

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I’ve been discovering that my anti – depressant medication is working well – That is:
I’m not crying all the time;
I’m not a screaming fish-wife;
getting out of bed is not ALWAYS as difficult;
I have interest in life;
I’m doing creative things for myself;
I recognise the goodness in my life;
I can get out and do the things that seem like a good idea in my head most of the time…… and much more that has previously been in the too hard basket.

However, I’m finding I’m still not as ME as I want to be, or think I ought to be. There are things I want to achieve; things I want to do each day that do not eventuate. And it causes me to question: Are these still symptoms of depression or am I just inherently lazy?

For such a major part of my life; for the past 22 years; I’ve been misdiagnosed and mistreated for depression. I have struggled with all of the symptoms above and the guilt of being ‘wrong.’ Finally, last year, I referred myself to a psychiatrist who properly diagnosed me and I have been properly medicated and improving since. As I said, though, I have certain expectations of myself and my accomplishments that are as yet unrealised. Is this normal? Does everyone, especially those who are NOT depressed, feel like this? Is it just me? Have I always been a thinker and NOT a doer of my wild and wonderful ideas?

I don’t have all the answers to the above. My hypotheses so far are: yes; yes; no and probably a bit, but I hope not.

So now, further experimentation is required.

May I buy a vowel please? I’d like an E. Are there any spare Es out there willing to be my friend?

In case it sounds like I have actually lost it, I’m talking about Extroverts. I’ve been undertaking MBTI personality testing with one of my senior classes and in teaching them have learned a bit more about myself. I’m an extreme extrovert.

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This comes as no surprise to those who know me, but perhaps very few realise how far I swing in that direction. When I’m really ME, I need literally no alone time. During my serious bouts of depression, this flipped to barely wanting to see anyone. I would work when I had to – and ‘play’ at being my general happy self – come home and go immediately to bed. I would often pretend to miss phone calls so that I could either text people or call them when I could cope with it. This is NOT the real me. Nowadays, I ask my family members to follow me to the shower to continue a conversation in case I miss out on company time.

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Back to my experiment. My hypothesis is this: My motivation to do more will increase with the acquisition of an E friend who likes similar things and has/makes time for me. So I need an E please!

My family love me and do spend time with me, but all 5 (actually, uncertain about Theo) of them are I people and, after a day at work or school, scatter like cockroaches under kitchen lights. They know who I am and do spend time, but, short of a roster, there’s not enough company for me.

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All of my close friends are I people. That’s always been the case, now that I think about it. I make plans and my friends enjoy coming along, but they don’t NEED me like I need them. Not need like clingy for emotional support, but need in terms of time. I’ve always had I friends and they don’t think of inviting someone (specifically me) every single time they think of going somewhere. Not out of spite, you understand, just because they are happy to do things on their own.

So, I’d like an E friend who’d like to spend loads of time with me.

The idea I have is that I will have more E time and therefore more energy. More energy equals more things achieved.

What are your thoughts? Any other experiments? What’s your personality type and how has it affected you?

Tattoo for the soul

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In just over a week, I am going to a tattoo parlour with three of my friends to be inked with my first tattoo.

Since writing this post, “Permanent Ink,” I have found, once again, that people need someone to talk to. Sharing such a tiny part of my story has opened the gates for friends and acquaintances to ‘feel ok’ to talk about their own emotional story.

So, for those of you who still aren’t sure why I would choose to get a tattoo; I, who change my mind about what I like more often than others change knickers; I, who have a needle phobia; I, who do not have a style and if I did, it wouldn’t be a tattoo that was the symbol of it; here’s why.

Today, I read this article and last fortnight I read this blog post and in between I’ve read about The Semicolon Project.

I want to start a conversation with those who need it; I want to let people (including me) know that it’s ok to not be ok and that you are loved; I want to remind people (including me) to “pause and keep going.”

And that’s why, next week, I will be voluntarily extending my hand for permanent ink.

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Steampunk Names

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Just for a little fun this afternoon, I have used this highly official name generator on our family. Henceforth, I shall known as, Professor Josephine Wraithwaddle.

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My husband is: Lord Roderick Wraithhold
Eldest son (and heir to all our debts) carries the dubious title of Lord Wilfred Roth stone.
My daughter, my princess: Chief Inspector Henrietta Supperwaddle.
The two younger children have clearly tested our ingenuity as they clash on several points of unoriginality:
Earl Archibald Clankingfield and Earl Archibald Clankingchild.
Our visiting guest goes by Chief Inspector Percival Knightchild.

Clearly the steampunk community are only original when it comes to style of dress, not naming conventions; in our household at least.

Comment with your new Monicker!

Honest Romance?

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A) I should not stay up til 2 am watching ‘romantic’ movies.
B) Said movies should not call themselves such if the plot involves two people who have been best friends since childhood and have avoided sharing their true feelings for one another almost as long.
C) There are 3 minutes of screen time left and they’re both still teary and un-together. This had better get better fast!
D) Stupid bloody fools! 12 years wasted.
E) Be honest.
F) For goodness sake, get some sleep!
G) Last 14 seconds of movie is kissing; prefaced by the words, “Better late than never.”
H) No.
I) Well, technically, yes. But why?!
J) Am going to watch something more honest, predictable and believable.
K) Like Jumanji.

Permanent Ink?

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I have never considered getting a tattoo before. This has been for two main reasons:
1) Apart from God and my family, I’ve never stuck to one thing long enough to warrant contemplating having it inked permanently onto my person.

2) I have a relatively severe needle phobia. This is self-explanatory.

This afternoon, I came upon this blog post:

The Semicolon Project

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And I felt a blast of decision. I will do this. I will tattoo a semicolon on my inner wrist to:

1) Remind me to take a pause and keep going. When I struggle with my depression, I need this. Life throws all manner of things at us and we all need to pause and keep going.

2) Start conversations. When I’ve shared my experiences of depression on Facebook, I’ve been whelmed by the conversations that are ignited. People vent and share and feel they’re not alone. I’ve had some people say that they’ve been on the verge of taking their own lives and, having seen my posts, have felt less alone and kept going.

One woman, hearing me describe my decade at a ladies’ conference, came up to me afterwards and said that her grown up daughter felt the same way as me and they’d never understood each other.  She was going home that day to apologise and help her seek help. I’ve seen her since and apparently all is going much better.

During times like this, when I feel like my depression is somewhat sorted and under my control, I often forget to share and the world sees me as ‘normal’ me. I’d like to remind others and myself that depression is often ongoing and the need to support each other is also ongoing.

If experiencing some little pain will help even one person, it’s enough. I’ve been through much better and much worse than an hour or so of needle pricks; I can do this.

I will do this. Who would like to join me?

Part 2 – Creative Writing – A Journey

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Create a character with personality traits of someone you love but the physical characteristics of someone you don’t care for.

I’ve chosen to use my mum (whom I love dearly) and a man I knew when I was about 13.

Renee is tall and wiry. She has is muscular to the point of thick, ropy cords of muscle rippling under her leathery skin. She looks old. Her skin is far to tanned and is beginning to look dehydrated. Her hair is also wiry and the white grey of the not-quite-old. She is decidedly unattractive in a conventional sense, but when you know and love her like I do, looks are no longer important.

Renee is generous to a fault. She is sometimes so concerned about the feelings of others that she apologises for doing something nice for them. Renee will do anything for her friends and family. Sometimes, this has backfired and she has been hurt, but family always wins out in the end. She seems incapable of being still for very long, finding jobs and activities to keep her hands busy and help others.Renee enjoys nice things like clothes and food, but mostly she enjoys sharing these things with others. She has been blessed with a reasonable wealth and is now intent on bestowing that blessing on others. She is love in action.

Mummy Win!

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“Mummy, I love you so much!”
“Thanks darling. I love you so much too.”
“And Mum, I love you sooooo much!” With all accompanying squishing of face that we do to little people sometimes.
“That’s lovely, Theo. I love you too.”
“Mummy, you are my best friend!”
“Oh thank you! That’s beautiful.”
Daddy asks, “And what about me?”
Serious thinking face followed by, “Yes…………..

You love Mummy, too.”

Brilliant!

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Love from Eski 🐛

I’ve created a monster!

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I have literally created a monster. With $3 worth of material; two hours and one small boys epic imagination, I have created “Theo Hulk Smash!”

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You may now applaud. Thank you.

When we were at Spotlight today, Theo chose some green fabric. When I asked what it was for, he said it was so he could be Hulk.

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He then asked the assistant, “Lady, you have purple Hulk shorts, please?” Thankfully, she did.

I spent a fun two hours this afternoon making it up as I went along and I am really pleased with it, especially how the green legs bubble out beneath the shorts.

Goodnight!

Eski 🐛

Echoes of bad parenting.

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Bad parent award goes to me tonight. I jokingly told Neal to “Shut Up!” forgetting about our youngest child (evermore known as ‘Polly’). When I could get a word in edgewise through the loudly repeated, “Shut up! Shut up!” I had to humbly apologise for being naughty and demonstrate how a good wife and mother lovingly requests that her husband silence his contradictory opinions. It is really hard to keep a straight face when the rest of the table ‘quietly’ chortles behind their hands and ‘Polly’, in response to the question, “What do we say instead?” replies happily, “Um, Oh bugger?”

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Honesty – again!

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Billy Joel says it best. “Honesty is such a lonely word, everyone is so untrue. Honesty is hardly ever heard and mostly what I need from you.”

So often we present a Facebook status view of ourselves to the world; even those closest to us. That’s one of the reasons I believe Facebook is so popular. It allows us to hide or display ourselves as much or as little as we want to. Now, of course, there are extremes of each.

We’ve all seen, and desperately tried to forget, updates on a person’s bowel movements – with or without accompanying graphic; the selfie in the toilet; the badly framed view which didn’t take the mirror behind them into account; the 2am night out shot – etcetera, etcetera, ad nauseum.

And the moment by moment, blow by blow account.
#ateasandwich
#brushingteeth
#gothiccups
#goodnight
#goodmorning
#goodafternoon
#walkeddog
#sneezedmygutsup
#yougetthepicture!

Mostly though, I think we as a society are guilty of the director’s cut life. You know what I mean. Those Facebook updates that make you feel like your life is never going to measure up. By comparison, you – or your significant other – don’t make the grade. Photos of huge flower bouquets from darling husbands for no reason. Happy, smiling families with not a hair out of place. Cute videos of children who walked sooner, further and on a cleaner floor no less, than yours. New jobs, new friends, new hair, whatever it is, it’s always good and it’s always better than yours.

Now please don’t get me wrong, I’ve probably posted about every single one of the things listed above, with the glaring exception of the cleaner floor. It’s what Facebook is for, no doubt, but is it honest? And if we live that way in the virtual world, how much creeps in to our real, face to face, everyday interactions?

Virtual world or not, it’s ridiculously easy to pop on our ‘game face’ and answer, “Fine,” at appropriate moments, but if we do it too often, I believe we actively block real connection with those to whom we could be close.

For real connection, be honest. Be real. Don’t be, “Fine.” Be, “Just awful, but thanks for asking.” Be, “I’ve had better mornings, thanks.” Cry if necessary.

Be you, in all your glorious splendour.
Be you, good, bad or ugly.
Be you. Truthful. Honest
Be you.