a warped view

Growing up in Darwin we always had very laid back routines. In my early years my mum, dad, nanna and grandad worked in a family business and so there were long days spent at work with dinner time often being after 7 or 8pm. This kind of laid back attitude to dinner time continued through my childhood and into my teenage years. This meant that I would regularly get to bed quite a lot later than other kids. It was a shock to us when we moved to Perth in my 16th year and discovered that the weirdo southerners would sometimes eat dinner at 5:30 or 6. Ridiculous! I don't know if it's because of this laid back start to life but I have never really had a time that was my bedtime, even as an adult. I have a time that I know should probably be my bedtime but it comes and goes with little notice most nights. I'm also what is generally classified as a night owl, the later at night, the more productive I feel. I can often be found on my computer until 2 or 3am. Sometimes this is b...

Growing up I was a victim of the Hollywood / Disney disease. I was indoctrinated to believe that girls were delicate princesses that needed to be rescued by handsome, dashing, sword wielding princes (or sometimes not princes, but still heroic, good looking men). Even intelligent, capable, courageous woman would ultimately still need rescuing at some point. Of course this rescuing would lead to true love, romance and happily ever after, which is, of course, every woman's dream come true. Also part of the indoctrination. Generations of girls, brainwashed to believe that our lives should be engineered around finding that one man, that Prince Charming to rescue us from our dreary lives (cause let's be honest, not many of us are being held captive by dragons). Despite knowing how silly the whole thing is, how unrealistic and misogynistic, the heart still secretly hopes for that happily ever after. However in recent years my view of that happily ever after has changed. After bei...

Quite often, when trying to explain my depression to people I use the phrase "my depression voice" or the "irrational voice" to describe the constant critic that lives in my head. Occasionally I wonder if people are going to take that to mean that I hear voices Beautiful Mind style or that I might start conducting a fight club with myself or talking to a giant rabbit. I can promise you that none of those thing are true, or are going to come true... well I might start talking to Frank but it's unlikely. However the truth is that I do deal with a constant voice in my head. The depression voice is always there, sometimes whispering quietly, sometimes screaming at me until I break. The depression voice is that arsehole that is constantly telling me that I'm not capable, that I'm worthless, that people don't like me. It's the voice that stops me from leaving my house, its the voice that looks in the mirror and tells me how ugly and unlovable I am...