a warped view

 That's how many weeks I have been alive (give or take a couple of days). Two thousand one hundred and seventy-nine. Yet here I am still fighting the same fights I have always fought. Self-image, self-acceptance, unrelenting standards, imposter syndrome.  Once again I find myself in a body that feels uncomfortable and unhealthy. It crept up on me slowly and suddenly all at the same time. I still barely eat any refined sugar. I turn down the lollies and cakes and doughnuts at work. It's not even a struggle, I no longer enjoy the way sugar makes my body feel. But my old nemesis, potato chips, remains undefeated. I eat potato chips to fill the emptiness in my soul. To feel as miserable physically as I do mentally or emotionally. To get comfort from an association with my childhood. It is the struggle I can't overcome. The war I can't win. So after months of trying on my own to no avail, months of the scales not budging, I have signed up for a healthy eating plan. I'm n...

 Is blogging still a thing that people do just because? Or is only a thing people do to make money? I had totally forgotten that I even had a blog until some random spam email reminded me... I wonder if I should start posting things again? I mean, I'm mostly just talking to myself anyway

I am so tired of people telling other people how to do any and all of the things. What words you can say if you're over 30, what music to like, what movies are ok to admit you enjoy, how you should be using your phone, facebook, instagram, twitter, toothbrush, kitchen sink, how you should live your life, spend more time being in the moment, not be on antisocial social media, what you should and shouldn't feel good or bad about, how people should or shouldn't be parents, women, men, feminists, activist, human beings. It just goes on and on. Here's an idea. If you don't like the way I do things or the words I say you have two choices. If you genuinely like me then you can choose to put up with the things about me that don't mesh 100% with the way you live your life (as I do with many of the people I love when it's not a deal breaker like racism or violence) or you can remove me from your facebook, twitter, instagram, life. That's it. Those are your two o...

I don't really go in big for resolutions. I've never been an avid resolution setter. As someone said on twitter the other day, if it's important enough to you then you just do it, you don't wait for a special day to start being better. However this year I've decided to make some resolutions. This year I turn 35 and when I reflect on my life in my 30s I see that its been a massive period of growth and change for me. I've become more willing to be myself, found my own style, lost friends and made new ones and lost some again. This year I embark on a new adventure. On the 29th of January I begin my journey to becoming a Nutritional Medicine practitioner, Naturopath and Herbalist. I'm not sure about the herbs and stuff yet, my main focus is on learning the science behind nutrition, how our bodies work and how we can heal ourselves by making choices about what we put in our mouths. It seemed a natural step after my journey from 100.5kgs to the 74.5kgs I am now ...

I was going through the ridiculous amount of drafts on my blog and found this one. I think I was probably going to write more but I decided to publish it anyway because I think it's an interesting idea... I was just reading some statistics about depression and I came across something I've seen so many times before but this time it made me stop and pause. This is what I saw Those with the following personality types are at risk of depression: Lifelong worrier Perfectionist Sensitive to personal criticism Unassertive Low self-esteem Self-critical and negative Shy and socially anxious And suddenly I wondered, are these personality types prone to depression, or are these personality types caused by depression? I'm sure I'm not the first person to wonder this, there are lots of much smarter brains than mine that spend a hell of a lot more time thinking about depression than I do.

Dear Broken Little Girl You've got the world fooled. With your masks and your costumes. With the illusion you have created. I'm not fooled anymore, I see who you truly are. I see the little girl terrified of revealing any weakness or cracks. The little girl who uses people for what they can do for her and then casts them aside until she needs them once more. I used to look at you and think you were so much more than me, that I was so much less. Now I realise that you will never be as much as me. Not until you are willing to be wrong, to be imperfect, to be fragile and vulnerable and human. Anybody can do what you do, yet you doubt my ability. You think you are so grown up and in control, but you're not. Everything you stand against, you have been. Everything you fight for, you've never endured. You are an empty shadow trying to fill yourself up at the expense of others. You once told me that I should learn to put myself first and say no. Well I've learnt. I...

Last night we went to an outing that required us to dress up 1950s style. As always I left everything to last minute but I managed to throw together a pretty decent ensemble. During the night I posted the following on social media  "dress up parties are much funner when you aren't as fat #justsaying #confessionsofaformerfatgirl" I posted this because I realised how much easier it had been for me now that I am a size 12/14 instead of a size 20 to find something to wear and how much more comfortable I felt being "in costume". Somebody took exception claiming that I should re-word my statement as some of our mutual friends may find it offensive and upsetting. Hogwash I say. Anyone who has been as big as I have, or bigger, knows exactly what I am talking about.  When you are any size bigger than a 16 wearing any clothes can be hard, let alone dress ups. While it is getting easier, with more plus size fashion labels available, being overweight and shopping for clothe...

I will never toe the line, fall in line or stay in line. I do not follow the crowd, the beaten path, go by the book, with the flow, roll over or play the game. I will make waves, rock the boat, misbehave, challenge, contradict, reject, act up, offend, transgress. I will be out of line, out of order, go astray, get into mischief, make trouble and do it with joy. I am passionate, intense and zealous, never apathetic or indifferent. I will get it wrong and I will make mistakes and I'll admit when I do (usually).This is who I am. I don't hide it. Don't expect me to change it. It's taken me a lifetime to become comfortable enough to be proud of who I am. So don't take advantage of my passion when it suits you and then try to change me when it doesn't. That's a good way to lose my respect. This is me. Deal with it.

Warning: this post is a post written for me. To get my feelings out of my head where they go around and around. There is no obligation to read it. The voice inside me has always told me that I have to be someone. I have to achieve something amazing. Change the world. Affect people's lives. Not just this. This living. I think it was created by my belief that I am no one. By being told when I was younger that I could "be someone". That I had so much potential. But never really believing it. I have a constant internal conflict between the two extremes. Seeing all my old school friends on facebook, seeing them graduate uni, travel, have awesome careers, makes it so much harder. It makes me feel like I'm a failure. None of them have jobs that create world peace or cure cancer (as far as I'm aware), but they are more somebody than me. I know I shouldn't compare myself to others. I know each life stands alone, with its own misery and happiness. It's own difficult...

I've noticed that when I stop trying to push my emotions away, when I am more conscious of feeling my feelings, I dream more. Not just more, almost constantly. Vivid, complicated, intense dreams. I can't help but feel that the two things are related.  By being more in tune with my feelings am I allowing my sub conscious more freedom? Am I allowing my inner voice to speak rather than forcing it to be silent? I'm not a huge one for dream interpretation, my dreams are usually inspired by conversations I've had or something I've been watching. I don't necessarily think there are hidden messages in my dreams, I'm more interested in the act of dreaming itself.  I've always had a lot of dreams. They are always very detailed and, as long as I think about them as soon as I wake up, I'm easily able to remember them. However for most of this year I've either not dreamt or been completely unable to recall any dreams at all. The human brain is a fascinating t...

Working with my psych has made me realise that one of the biggest mistakes I make is invalidating my own feelings by explaining away other people's bad behaviour. I've spent the majority of my life rationalising, its something that I think I learned from my mother. It's something that used to make me angry at my mother. She is a big believer in seeing both sides of the story, and consequently so am I. Seeing both sides of the story is not the issue though, I still think that's a great ability to have. The problem comes when you are so good at seeing the other persons side of the story that the feelings they caused with their actions become secondary, or get lost completely.  I realised today that I now do it to my daughter and I want to stop. When she comes to me to tell me about something that has happened with her friends she doesn't want me to be objective, she wants me to soothe her hurt feelings. She doesn't need help seeing why the other person did what th...

So I was a bit anxious about seeing a psychologist. I've done it before in the past and the experiences were mediocre at best. I didn't find them particularly helpful in the long term though they did probably provide some short term benefit. I am always worried that I won't like the psychologist. That I won't feel comfortable with them and I will spend the whole time wishing I could leave. I am, to my own detriment, sometimes too quick to judge people. Although I am most often proved right about my gut feelings I do occasionally get it wrong and then have to eat some humble pie while trying to apologise for getting it so wrong. When I first saw the woman who would be my psych my anxiety levels increased. She had a hard edged look about her, sharp and harsh. Not soft and caring and anything at all like the sort of person I wanted to spill my inner secrets to. Luckily, in this case, I was wrong. Once we got into the session I could see she was very good at her job and...

So a lot has been happening in my world. I've started taking my anti-depressants again and I've started seeing a psych. Things (like getting out if bed and forming coherent sentences) were getting hard and there was no chance of me accomplishing anything harder (like laundry, remembering to eat or what my name was). There is no shame in getting help, I'm just super stubborn and even avoid taking panadol or using band aids whenever possible.  I also decided that I needed to make a concerted effort to start reading again. So I started reading a book I received as a present from one of the loveliest people I know. It's called The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin and I love it. It's all about Gretchen's quest to become happier and what she did to achieve it. She wasn't particularly unhappy to start with, she just felt she could be happier, more engaged in her own life and kinder to herself and the people she loved. She didn't want her life to just whiz by...

"Now Muscle Shoals has got the Swampers  And they've been known to pick a song or two  Lord they get me off so much  They pick me up when I'm feeling blue  Now how about you?" - Lynyrd Skynyrd Chances are you've never heard of Muscle Shoals, Alabama. It is highly likely however, that you've heard  of Aretha Franklin, Wilson Pickett, Otis Redding, Bob Dylan, Paul Simon, and the Rolling Stones. All of these artists, and many, many others, recorded some of their most popular, successful and groundbreaking songs and albums at both Fame Studios and Muscle Shoals Sound Studios in Muscle Shoals. This beautifully shot documentary, named after the town, takes viewers on a journey through history, introducing us to the key players and a supporting cast of famous faces.  Utilising, interviews, archive footage, photos, sound clips and some of the greatest music ever recorded, Muscle Shoals introduces us to the men who made ...

It's always so hard to pick just a handful of films from the Revelation Perth International Film Festival (or Rev as it's affectionately known) lineup to recommend. When people ask me what they should see my answer is usually "ALL THE THINGS!". But I'm going to do my darnedest to pick out the best of the best. I'm going to split it into three different categories, my top 5 features, my top 5 documentaries and my overall top 5. Anything that makes it into the overall top 5 won't be included in the other two because that would be silly. Top 5 Features White Reindeer A Field in England Gimme the Loot Cheap Thrills A Monster in Paris (A kids movie and showing in 3D!) Check out the trailer for the not-your-average-Christmas-movie White Reindeer here Top 5 Documentaries Burn The Act of Killing  Fierce Green Fire Sunset Strip Hunter The trailer for The Act of Killing is here . It's chilling stuff. and now, DRUMROLL... Top 5...

Its nearly that time of the year again. Its Perth, its winter, its almost July and that can only mean one thing... Its nearly time for the Revelation Perth International Film Festival ! For those of you who don't know, this is one of my favourite things ever! As someone who adores film Rev gives me (and all of you Perthians) the chance to see amazing films we would most likely never get the opportunity to see anywhere else. Rev has moved to a new home this year, with the bulk of the action taking place at Luna in Leederville and additional screenings and events happening at Paradiso, Luna on SX and at other venues around Leederville and Fremantle. While it sad to leave the Astor, the new home base in Leederville opens the door for lots of new and exciting happenings (and a whole new collection of places to eat during the festival, YAY!) The last few years I have blogged about Rev and this year I will have heaps of reviews, recommendations, suggestions and maybe a few surpr...

<rant> you know what? no matter how much you think you're doing the right thing. regardless of the fact that i suffer from depression. regardless of how much of a "responsibility" you feel you have. when you tell me that you are going to call the police to do a welfare check on me because i tweeted that i was sad and you've never even met me in real life and we don't have a personal relationship other than superficial tweets on twitter then you're being a condescending arse. and quite frankly, how dare you?! and yes, you will probably get offended by this but i don't fucking care. you offended me first. </rant>

Last Friday I made someone cry. She is a friend of mine, I've known her for over half my life, my children call her Aunty, I love her dearly. I didn't set out to make her cry and I'm not proud of it. I'm sorry that I upset her. I'm not sorry about the reason I made her cry.  We nearly always have drinks and nibbles with my mum on Friday nights. We have a regular cast of friends that join us when they can and last Friday a group of about 8 of us were gathered. It was a normal  Friday night, drinking, laughing, eating, talking. One friend (not the one I made cry) has been having a terrible time of late with all sorts of unpleasantness in her life. She's been quite down and I would suspect is suffering from depression. She made a half hearted "joke" about walking to work the other day and getting caught waiting for the train to pass at the train crossing and declared that for a moment she'd thought to herself that if she threw herself under the train ...

When you look at me do you see a girl who is rude, unapproachable, snobbish? Who thinks she's too good for everyone else? Do you see a mum who just drops her kids at school and runs away because she doesn't want to be involved? Or do you see that I am afraid and anxious. That I try and avoid social interaction because I don't know what to say, because I'm convinced no one will like me. Do you see the scared little girl who was bullied so badly she didn't want to go to school, the scared little girl who was called names and teased and picked on, who had her things stolen and destroyed, who spent more time hiding in the nurses office than she did in class? Do you see the lonely girl who had no friends to call her own? Do you see the desperate girl who sat in her mother's car and begged not to be sent to school, with tears streaming down her face and sobs choking her words? Do you see the woman who still becomes that scared child when she enters a school. Do you ...

How much mental illness can people take? How many posts on a blog? How many text messages asking for help, for comfort, for reassurance? How many sob filled phone calls? How many times can you show up with a tear stained face with nothing to offer but melancholy and pain? How many times can you cancel at the last minute because you realise you can't bring yourself to leave the house before people stop asking you places? How much depression can you show people before they stop trying to be sympathetic and get fed up with the drama? Every time I want to tweet that I'm not doing ok, or post on Facebook that I'm not coping, or write a blog post about the darkness I worry about people's limits. I worry that I'm THAT whiner who just goes on and on about depression all the time. Who never has anything good to say. Who brings everyone down with her constant downers. I wonder how many eyes will roll. How many will want to unfollow or unfriend me. How many will try and offe...