When you're chewing on life's gristle Don't grumble, give a whistle

Last blog post - April 2018.

Well stone the flamin' crows and slap a Tim Tam on my arse !!!!

Almost 6 months later I only now feel like my life is starting to calm down and even out to a place where I feel like I'm ready to start wasting people's precious internet time by blogging again.

I'll bring you up to speed shall I ?

Work - I am working back in admin again. It's fantastic. 

I am a data entry/receptionist office dweeb.  I work Mon-Fri 8-3 only about 10 minutes from home. It's right on the waterfront at Scarborough.  It's brilliant. Zero stress. 

I sit in front of a computer entering purchase orders while listening to the best of the 80s and 90s on Easy Hits.  No walk in customers so I can look as slovenly as I want 

(read Millers black pants and no iron smart casual tops)

Health - My latest round of ultra-sounds explain why I didn't continue with my Aged Care dream. 

I have hip bursitis in both hips and dodgy veins in my right leg.  The physical nature of Aged Care just destroyed me. I loved the caring part of the job but carrying wheel chairs, making beds and all the squatting (oh god the squatting. My poor fucking knees) killed me. 

But more about my Aged Care experience later. 

I will be having a cortisone injection in both hips this week. I never in my wildest nightmares thought I would ever be looking forward to someone jabbing a big fucking needle into my squishy bits.  

I also have to wear a gorgeous beige compression stocking on my right leg to stop my cactus very close vein from popping a foofa valve or sumthin.

Finally getting a permanent part-time job with you-beaut working hours, that is less taxing on my ole manky hips and more importantly on my fried el wonko brain has allowed me to get back into the land of the LIVING and socialising again.

Hallefuckinglujah !!!!!

We can finally make plans and DO things again.

I've been able to work with a physiotherapist to get into an exercise program so I now walk for 20 minutes each morning along the waterfront before work (sae noice) and I've rejoined Dolphins gym ("oh fucking hell not again!" I hear you cry). 

No no no I get into the hydrotherapy pool which is a divine 31 degrees (it's like taking a bath in a giant pool that has been filled with Lush chlorine & piss bath bombs)

I do my low impact hip and buttock strengthening exercises while trying to avoid being smacked in the face by little Timnmy's pool noodle.......... while his parents sit on the sidelines, eyes glazed looking into their Samsungs,  not watching how their darling little boy is deliberating bomb diving RIGHT where I am trying to do my 'bike' riding on my noodle. ... 

Give me strength.

My self esteem has taken a big battering over the last 2 years but I now feel like I am on the up and up again.  

Intense arsehole bitch face mole bullying in the workplace 

........ followed by intense stress and pressure doing my Aged Care prac (chuck in some bitch face mole bullying there too) 

.........followed by working in community aged care and the physical and crazy emotional pressures of that,

 ........ to applying for SO many jobs only to be knocked by time and time again 

.......combined with my love/hate relationship with all things stuffed with sugar 

has resulted in a hefty gain on the ole WW bathroom scales. Le Sigh.

BUT

I am now back on track and excited for the future.

I have so many exciting adventures ahead of me and I can't wait to share them with you.

I have started compiling a list of sorts. Like a very low key low impact bucket list of interesting things to do. 

No I will NOT be rodeo riding bulls or jumping out of perfectly safe aeroplanes or swimming with irukandji jellyfish.  

I'm thinking more like - Go see a symphony. Go do an art class. Swap full cream chocolate for carob. Ok that last one was taking it too far.  

Shave all my hair off. YES I SHAVED MOST OF MY HAIR OFF. 

(Oh regret)

It feels great to be back behind the keyboard again after such a long break.  

I will be writing about some of the things I've been up to over the past 6 months as there is a lot to tell.

In the words of James Brown 

" I feel good . NANANNANNAAR . I knew that I would now. NANANANANANANA".

And as soon as you're not a human be-ing, you're a human do-ing. - Brad Goodman

I've spent the last 6 months unemployed.

By choice.

This is unheard of for me.

I finished year 12 in 1989 and during those school years I worked at the local service station/corner store/produce store/takeaway shop on weekends while at school.  

I finished school and started work two weeks later at a video store in Toowoomba.  

I have never NOT worked.

In July I had a total mental breakdown.

Yes. I was not in a very good place at all.  Even doing the most menial tasks would stress me out.

Luckily for me I have an incredibly supportive husband and a fantastic group of friends and family who all rallied around me.  

"What in the name of shit have you been doing for the last 6 months?" I hear you wail.

For the first 2 months I applied for heaps of jobs with no response. I was interviewed 3 times but didn't get the jobs.  This stress of looking for work and the slow pulverizing of any self confidence I may have had buried quickly turned my nerves to over load.  It added to my negative thoughts that "there must be something wrong with me. I'm defective. I'm useless".

I started to sleep a lot and eat.... a lot..... 

On one particular day I was a mess. I was shaking and crying and thinking some very dark thoughts.

I rang my doctor but he was away so I took an appointment with the temp doctor. 

I will call him Dr Nick.

I went in. I was bawling and trembling and I told Dr Nick that I didn't think I wanted to live anymore. I told him that I needed help.  He sat there looking at me sternly with his arms crossed.

Blowing my nose and sniffing I told that I really needed to apply to a temporary disability pension. 

I explained that I just needed 3 months to get my head in order.

Still with arms crossed Dr Nick shakes his head. "No. No you don't qualify for that".

I burst into tears and stammered "Why?"

"Because your breakdown is related to your job experiences not directly related to your Bipolar".

I told him that I cannot deal with the stress of looking for another job and I need to be referred to a good psychiatrist.

"Would you say you are anxious?" He interrupted.

I looked at him incredulously and sobbed "Ummmm yes???!!".

He prints out a script and gives it to me and says "Just take these. There's a good psychologist upstairs just go see her". 

I was just too drained and exhausted to retaliate so I muttered "..mmm.kay" and walked out.

I went to the chemist and put in the script. 

The chemist came out to me and asked if I had used this medicine before.

I sighed that I didn't even know what it was.

"It's Diazepam. Valium. Sleeping Tablets." the chemist answered.

So let me get this straight. I went to a doctor and told him I was suicidal and his solution?

Give me a box of 50 sleeping tablets.

The people in the chemist must have thought I was mental. Here's this woman in an old stained t-shirt and shorts, hair everywhere, bright red puffy eyes and nose, dark circles under my eyes and I just start laughing in the shop. I mean cackling like a total loon. It was just so ridiculous.

I went home and had a big talk to hubby. aka My Big Hairy Angel.

We made calls to the bank and our My Budget people it was determined that we could afford for me to take some time off. Thank fuck for good budgeting. Yes it would be tight and we would go backwards a bit with our savings but ....................

========================================================

The last 4 months I admit I have spent a LOT of time sleeping.

I gave myself permission for the first time ever......

TO DO NOTHING.

HOWEVER

The anxiety ridden Vicki in my brain screamed at me that I was "wasting time" and I should be using this time to "declutter the whole house/paint the eaves/paint the walls/build a garden/sew 500 dresses" and on and on and on.  You see, I am a "project" person. 

I find it very hard to sit still and do nothing.

 TIME TIME TIME TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME WASTING TIME.

This goes around around in my head.

I had written myself crazy long lists of all the things I felt that I had to do and then I would get so upset with myself if I couldn't do it.

So each day I set myself ONE task to do.

Monday - Wash socks and jocks.

Tuesday - Vaccum

Wednesday - Clean Bathroom

etc etc etc

I told myself I only needed to do that ONE thing. 

It was hard. 

I felt like I was letting Mick down if I didn't have the whole house scrubbed each day.

After all..... I'm not working so it's not fair I sit around and watch Netflix all day is it?!!

I read a couple of great self help books, I binge watched TV shows, I sewed, I listened to podcasts, I napped, and I told myself "it's ok".

I also did a 14 week Certificate IV in Ageing Support with the view to becoming a Personal Support Worker/AIN.  This was the best thing ever.   I absolutely LOVED going to class 2 days a week. I LOVED learning new things and doing assignments.  I LOVED meeting the incredible woman who did the course with me.  My teacher Dianna was just so wonderful.

This class was so incredibly cathodic for me.

I start my 3 weeks of full-time on the job experience on Monday.

I'm nervous/anxious/scared but also excited.

I've had to remind myself that if I do the 3 weeks and decide that this kind of work isn't for me ...

It's okay. It's fine. I gave it a crack and I met some fab funny people.

Why Aged Care?

I realised that what makes me happy is making others happy.

Not in a martyrdom or self sacrificing way.

I put on my Fancy Dress Disco each year. Yes to raise money for beyondblue but because I just love to help bring a night of joy and happiness to people.

I organise luncheons to get frocked up and eat cake because I love to bring people together and make them smile.

I makes me feel good. I makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

So I figure, if I can work with people who are lonely, frail and unable to care for themselves then maybe I can bring a bit of light into their lives and make them feel good and there-fore make myself feel good too.

I realise it's not going to be all lavender sachets, Tabu perfume and Avon powder.

There will be poo, heart break and sadness too.

I'm not going in with rose coloured Ray-bans.

I expect to be exhausted. 

I've worked for the last 20 years as a desk jockey and am now going to be doing a very physical job.

I've never had to shower anyone, toilet anyone, change a colostomy bag or feed someone before.

I have a good feeling about it though.

It feels good to be going to a CARE industry. 

2018 is going to be a great year.

I feel it in me gutz.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

They don't think it be like it is, but it do. - Oscar Gamble

2017

2016 was a pretty fucking stressful year for me.  

My father finally passed away after succumbing to dementia.  Dementia is a pretty fucking cruel disease.  It's like an alien from some sort of nasty B-Grade horror film.  This creature takes over the host's brain and very gradually eats them alive.  The final 2 months of my father's life was just awful to witness.  He became literally a zombie.  He was dead but his brain was still firing.

My brother and I were with him in his final hours which was a very surreal experience. Such sadness at a life lost and future experiences taken away yet at the same time such relief that it was over for him.  This, combined with the funeral made the first part of my 2016 exhausting emotionally.

Then I left my job after nearly 9 years.

This was an incredibly tough terrifying decision for me but I felt it was time.

Starting a new job in a completely different type of working environment (small business to multinational corporation) , with people you don't know and a system you have never used before was pretty traumatic for me.  It was very much a culture shock. 

I am very fortunate that the girls I work with are so incredibly patient because it was all very overwhelming. My new job is very hectic and you must have superwoman time management and organization skills to do it.  Thankfully, I do have these but it hasn't stopped me having frequent anxiety attacks and depressive episodes.

SO 2017 

NEW YEAR NEW ME?

YES

If you are friends with me on Facey-Bees you would have seen I watched a documentary called "Embrace" the other night.  I guess you might say I had an epiphany.  

https://bodyimagemovement.com/embrace-the-documentary/

Embrace uncovers why poor body image has become a global epidemic and what women everywhere can do to have a brighter future.

I am so incredibly lucky.  I am healthy. I don't have disease. I am able-bodied. I live in Australia in one of the most beautiful peaceful countries in the world. I am a good, kind, empathetic person.

I have a Pookah, an absolute corker of a husband, a loving family & fantastic friends.  

I am blessed.

So I am a size 18.  So what?!

My boobs are now longer perky and my thighs chaff. I have purple veiny things on my legs and weird skin tag thingys on my neck.  Sure I could stand to be a bit fitter but at the end of the day.... if I am healthy and not on the path to diabetes (which I'm not I've been checked) then the only person who really gives a flying shit about my tummy is ME.

So this year is all about SELF ACCEPTANCE for me.

From my teenage years I have strove to be this unattainable THING. 

To be a size 12.

Thin = happiness.

No.

Healthy = happiness.

I've found that I have started getting depressed looking at Instagram.  The pin-up/vintage girls on there always SEEM to look incredible with their perfect makeup and hair. Their amazing vintage clothes and wasp-waists. They appear to be SO self confident and so self assured. They look fantastic and they know it.   

I NEED to stop comparing myself to this false imagery.

I KNOW that these people take off their make up, brush out their hair and chuck on some tracky-daks and have insecurities just like me.  I know that they have taken 500 photos before choosing that ONE that is 'perfect'.

I never thought that aging would worry me.  I always thought I would NEVER be one of those women who gave a shit about wrinkles and veins.... but lately, to my horror, I have become one.

FUCK THAT.

I am 44 years old.  I am a size 18. I am healthy.

2017 RESOLUTIONS

Stop caring what other people think so much. 

People are wrapped up in their own worlds. Stop being so bloody hard on myself. I truly am my own worst enemy.    I constantly worry about what people think and hate the thought that someone doesn't like me or thinks I'm a fuckhead or full of myself because I post selfies.

I will be working on loving myself more.  If people don't like me that is fine and if people reckon I post too many selfies then they can just unfriend me and block me.

Move more.  

No not start some new Couch to 5k or crazy bullshit exercise routine I just KNOW I won't continue after 1 week. 

Just move. W

alk in a park. Swim in the ocean. Play Frisbee. Garden. Walk along the waterfront. 

Just move.

Do heaps of new exciting things.  

Go places I haven't been before.  Do lunch.  Ride a zip-line in the trees.  Go on water slides. Visit the Planetarium. Soak in an onsen. Challenge myself. 

Clean up our house.

De-clutter!!! I have SO much STUFF. Time to get it gone.   

Seriously, how many coffee cups do we REALLY need!!!!

Also, give our house a mini-make over this year. The old girl is starting to look a bit dowdy. 

So bit by bit. Fix up the garden. Weed down the side of the house. Repaint parts. 

A bit of a spruce up is needed.

Sew what you got.

There is a sewing challenge I've been told about that I will be doing.

The next 8 outfits you sew must come from fabric and pattern you already own.  

You can't repeat a pattern and you can't buy any new fabric. It must come from your existing stash.

You can only buy notions.  I don't know what the official hashtag of the challenge is so I've made up my own if you want to join in.

#sewwhatyougot

So there you have it.

I'm excited for what this year will have in store for me.  I'm sure whatever comes my way will be exciting and challenging.... but that's OK.

I will be making a point of blogging more this year.  

I find it very cathartic putting my thoughts onto the screen.  

I stopped blogging because, frankly I thought 'nobody gives a fuck about what you're doing Vicki. Why do you think Vicki that people give a shit about what you are dribbling on about... what's the point if nobody's reading".  

Now I will blog for me.  If nobody reads it, that is cool. 

If you do read my shit then I would love you to comment just so I know someone is there LOL

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

FLOAT

Today I took a big jump out of my comfort zone and decided to try FLOAT at Lutwyche.

"What the hell is a FLOAT ?" I hear you wail

OK so you pay someone to let you float in a tank of  magnesium-based Epsom salts water in complete & utter darkness and silence for an hour.

"Ummmmm okay why?" I hear you stammer.

Well it's meant to zen you the heck out and relax the hell out of your body.

Now, my problem is this....

I have a bad over active imagination.

So instead of imagining myself floating blissfully like a fetus in embryonic fluid without a care or worry, my mind immediately went to Ryan Reynolds in Buried Alive.

Lovely Vicki brain. Lovely.

I need not have worried. From the moment we arrived we were made to feel really calm and relaxed by Chris the owner.  To help quash any fears, before we went in Chris went through how the whole thing operates and how it is kept mega hygienic. The facility was super clean & I liked that it was very basic without all the hippy wanker stuff like Buddhas bought from Bargain Hut.

After the orientation I was taken to my room. There was a large shower room that was very dark but lit in purple light.  When I saw the door to the float room I have to admit I started having a panic attack. I felt like I was going to start crying and I was shaking.

 Again, the good old Vicki imagination kicked in to over drive because quite frankly, the door looked just like a mortuary door and the room beyond looked was SOOOOOOOOOO dark it was like some sort of gateway to the Upside Down or something out of Stargate.
 (I've read way too many sci-fi novels)

I almost pulled the pin right then & there but Chris (who no doubt has seen this initial reaction a million times) assured me that I can leave the door open a bit to let in some light and it can't lock so I can stop at any time and get the fuck out at any time.

He then squished some ear plugs into my ears and it was time.

I had my required shower, took a big breath & stepped into the room like I was a weird nude astronaut stepping through a time travelling portal to another dimension (shut up Vicki imagination).

I sat in the water which was only about 14 inches deep and let my eyes get used to the room. I lay back and was immediately amazed by the feeling of the 'water'. It is super super salty and I can only describe it as like when you make jelly and it hasn't quite set yet.  It is heated to be the same temperature as your body and felt really nice. I kept my eyes open and focused on the strange feeling of the water.  Then my morbid black humour kicked in and I started giggling because the room looked to me like Dexter's kill room but with thick black plastic instead of clear plastic.  (yes I'm a weirdo)

I began to relax and just be silly by pin balling myself up & down and side to side. This was very fun.

After about 15 minutes I built up the courage to close the door.  I was abruptly plunged into complete & utter darkness.  Crazy dark.

Surprisingly, I was cool with not being able to see my hand in front of my face but the temperature of the air pumped into the room is also body temperature in order for your body to not feel any cold or heat and that DID make me feel suffocated. I am the sort of person who even in winter needs a window open, so I cracked the door again to let in some cool air.

*disclaimer - this is NOT me but it IS what the room looks like

I didn't doze off and I didn't go all zen and shit but I did do mindfulness and focused on my breathing and the sensation of the water which was lovely.  I'm not sure if it was all the magnesium in the water but I found that I REALLY needed to stretch.  "Righto" I thought "if my body is telling me to stretch then I will".  It was very cool doing stretches in super buoyant water.  Suddenly I heard 3 knocks which indicated the end of the hour so I slowly rose up like a fluro white dugong and stepped back out of my tomb.

The water felt all weird &  slimy but after having a really hot shower my skin felt AMAZING.

I thought that I would feel all sleepy afterwards but I found the opposite.  I felt quite energised.

Would I FLOAT again?  

Probably not.  I mean I am really glad I tried it and I was very proud of myself for doing something 'scary'. For me, I prefer a nice massage.

Would I recommend FLOATING to others?

Absolutely.

I can totally see how people could really become 'addicted' to floating.

It is relaxing as all get out.  This world is bloody noisy and a sensory overload and I think having a break from all of that is great.
The Big Fella (my husband) LOVED it and will be back for sure.

I liked that Float at Lutwyche was a floating ROOM and not one of those pods.
I don't think I would have gone into a pod.  That would be a bit too Matrix for me.

You should totally try FLOAT.

Vicki rating 4 out of 5 stars

http://floatbris.com.au/