Thursday, 6 June 2013
Wednesday, 5 June 2013
Brand me slightly dubious
I know much smarter men have never got this far
'Monsoon' Robbie Williams
Went into town today and had a crack at the 'positive body language' malarkey that hypno-dude suggested to me last week. Decided to start simply by trying not to be so conscious that I'm squinty and limpy and currently sporting a really bad hairdo. Seriously, it needs work. I'm getting it sorted out this Thursday. Major zhoozing required!
Managed to walk a little taller, shoulders a bit further back and didn't feel squinty or limpy. Success!
I probably need somebody objective to tell me if it's actually the case but I think I do manage to project confidence a fair bit of the time. Not feel it certainly, but project it. Or maybe I kid myself into thinking I do, because otherwise I may not get out the front door. I'm well past the serious agoraphobia of my twenties, where I went through a stage of being almost literally too scared to go out of my bedroom, but it still bites me on the arse every now and then. If I don't get out often enough it can get harder and harder to do it so part of my harden up routine is to force myself out the door when I'm starting to get a bit jittery about it, which seems to keep it under control. I don't really kid myself that I could never go back to the bedroom-lurking days. I won't, but I could.
I know I rant about hippy dippy attitudes but there's enough of the egalitarian hippy in me to be slightly pissed off that projecting confidence matters. I'm sure it's a direct result of having been judged on my appearance (ie fatness) my whole fucking life but I absolutely refuse to judge anybody's worth on how they look, dress or present themselves. Except for myself, of course, that's different innit. Apparently. The kindest man in the world has massive issues about being bald and having skin problems. I couldn't care less. That man's heart is more beautiful than the lushest head of hair or porcelain-like skin in the world. It's the person that matters, not how well the package is wrapped. Except for me. I do realise the hypocrisy there.
Another thing that gets my hackles up is this concept of 'personal branding'. I understand why people want to do it, particularly in a world more and more driven by image, but by the same token it makes me despair for humanity. The cynic in me also says it's a really, really good way to make a silk purse from a sow's ear. I worked in marketing and communications for a while, mainly promoting government initiatives and programmes. Let me tell you, I made some friggin' beautiful silk purses out of some incredibly manky sow's ears. They were still bloody sow's ears. As the Americans like to say, you can't polish a turd.
But, and I am literally scewing up my face as I type this, maaaaaaaaybe branding yourself wonderful isn't so bad. I suspect that ultimately it's better for one's psyche that what I've been doing, which is branding myself shit. It wasn't deliberate but it was the natural consequence of walking around thinking and saying that I am shit, thereby projecting the message 'I am shit'.
All those silk purses out there may actually be sow's ears but at least they attempt to like themselves and think they're worth something. Is that bad? It's better than what I'm being doing to myself. Innit?
I keep going on about contributing to the world but part of what's brought me to this journey of self discovery was the realisation that branding myself shit doesn't only affect me. It's affected everybody I could have helped, encouraged, made laugh and inspired had I not been so tied up in bloody knots with my own insecurities. For that, world, I am sorry. I'll make it up to you eventually.
'Monsoon' Robbie Williams
Went into town today and had a crack at the 'positive body language' malarkey that hypno-dude suggested to me last week. Decided to start simply by trying not to be so conscious that I'm squinty and limpy and currently sporting a really bad hairdo. Seriously, it needs work. I'm getting it sorted out this Thursday. Major zhoozing required!
Managed to walk a little taller, shoulders a bit further back and didn't feel squinty or limpy. Success!
I probably need somebody objective to tell me if it's actually the case but I think I do manage to project confidence a fair bit of the time. Not feel it certainly, but project it. Or maybe I kid myself into thinking I do, because otherwise I may not get out the front door. I'm well past the serious agoraphobia of my twenties, where I went through a stage of being almost literally too scared to go out of my bedroom, but it still bites me on the arse every now and then. If I don't get out often enough it can get harder and harder to do it so part of my harden up routine is to force myself out the door when I'm starting to get a bit jittery about it, which seems to keep it under control. I don't really kid myself that I could never go back to the bedroom-lurking days. I won't, but I could.
I know I rant about hippy dippy attitudes but there's enough of the egalitarian hippy in me to be slightly pissed off that projecting confidence matters. I'm sure it's a direct result of having been judged on my appearance (ie fatness) my whole fucking life but I absolutely refuse to judge anybody's worth on how they look, dress or present themselves. Except for myself, of course, that's different innit. Apparently. The kindest man in the world has massive issues about being bald and having skin problems. I couldn't care less. That man's heart is more beautiful than the lushest head of hair or porcelain-like skin in the world. It's the person that matters, not how well the package is wrapped. Except for me. I do realise the hypocrisy there.
Another thing that gets my hackles up is this concept of 'personal branding'. I understand why people want to do it, particularly in a world more and more driven by image, but by the same token it makes me despair for humanity. The cynic in me also says it's a really, really good way to make a silk purse from a sow's ear. I worked in marketing and communications for a while, mainly promoting government initiatives and programmes. Let me tell you, I made some friggin' beautiful silk purses out of some incredibly manky sow's ears. They were still bloody sow's ears. As the Americans like to say, you can't polish a turd.
But, and I am literally scewing up my face as I type this, maaaaaaaaybe branding yourself wonderful isn't so bad. I suspect that ultimately it's better for one's psyche that what I've been doing, which is branding myself shit. It wasn't deliberate but it was the natural consequence of walking around thinking and saying that I am shit, thereby projecting the message 'I am shit'.
All those silk purses out there may actually be sow's ears but at least they attempt to like themselves and think they're worth something. Is that bad? It's better than what I'm being doing to myself. Innit?
I keep going on about contributing to the world but part of what's brought me to this journey of self discovery was the realisation that branding myself shit doesn't only affect me. It's affected everybody I could have helped, encouraged, made laugh and inspired had I not been so tied up in bloody knots with my own insecurities. For that, world, I am sorry. I'll make it up to you eventually.
Tuesday, 4 June 2013
Past it
Sooner or later, we learn to throw the past away
'History Will Teach Us Nothing' - Sting
Interpretation is everything. - E. H. Carr
I'm torn at the moment between blogging and lying out in the sun in the hope the sunshine will nuke the germs out of my fluey body. Yet feel I am on the verge of articulating something cool, so blogging it is. I may of course be feverish, so if I wind up spouting a crock of crap you can blame it on that.
No self hypno yesterday (smack botbot). I would say does thinking about it count but this may land me in the poo with hypno-dude when I go back and see him this Saturday. No excuses, no surrender!!! The kindest man in the world has said both last night and this morning that he thinks I'm doing well and has noticed I'm not shitting on myself from a great height anywhere near as often. Also thinks the process is allowing me to 'reprocess things and put them in another basket'. I'm not sure what basket yet or where I should put it or if I should just throw it out. I'm sure this will become clearer as time goes on.
Have been thinking about the process and premise of the hypno and how it allows you to reinterpret things in ways that make you not want to shit on yourself from a great height. The thing that sold me on hypno was the simple concept that the unconscious mind doesn't know the difference between fact and fiction. This kind of blew me away when I heard it, because suddenly me being desperate to change, willing to work on change and yet being seemingly unable to change made perfect sense. All the shite my unconscious mind had sucked up from others and me about being useless, unloveabale and dumb as a bucket of rocks was still lurking even though intellectually I know none of those are true. Mostly. No, I do. Mostly.
When I was at uni I studied historiography, or the study of the ways history is written and for what reasons. I realise history isn't a popular subject these days, mainly because Gen Y think nothing existed before them and the internet but I'm into it, mainly modern sociopolitical stuff (ooooo, get me) and have always been fascinated by different interpretations of why things happened and continue to happen. Because regardless of whether you like history or not, things happen due to cause and effect. There are reasons the world is the way it is and there are reasons I've spent a large part of my life feeling useless, unloveable and dumb as a bucket of rocks.
Historiography will tell you that facts exist, but interpretation of those facts comes purely from you, your experiences, your background, your slant on things. Does your interpretation make the facts wrong or right? No. Does your interpretation of the facts shape your view on the world? Yes. The Vietnamese call the Vietnam War the American War. Australian Aborigines call the British colonisation of Australia invasion. Are they wrong?
Dwelling on the past is fucking pointless and I don't want to do it or suggest that anybody else does but I am more than happy (well not happy, but still) to hold my hands up to the knowledge that my interpretation of my past is basically what's fucked me up and by that I mean yes shit things did indeed happen and they can't be regarded as anything other than shit. But it was me who chose to believe on some level that those things actually made ME shit.
Fact, people who start a sentence with the word 'fact' are really annoying but we really are responsible for hauling our own arses into gear and becoming happy, productive people who can contribute something to the world rather than sooky la-la's wallowing in our own puddles of self-induced loathing. And ok, some of us have to haul their arses further and longer to reach this enlightened state. Suck it up, princesses.
Fact, people who start a sentence with the word 'fact' are really annoying but we really are responsible for hauling our own arses into gear and becoming happy, productive people who can contribute something to the world rather than sooky la-la's wallowing in our own puddles of self-induced loathing. And ok, some of us have to haul their arses further and longer to reach this enlightened state. Suck it up, princesses.
Monday, 3 June 2013
Now and Zen
Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will. - Gandhi
Going to try and keep this one brief today as I seem to be getting some bloody fluey thing not that long after getting some other bloody fluey thing and there are a few alarm bells going off in my head about a possible ME dip, which is not going to friggin' well happen. After a couple of OK years with it this year has been a bit of a struggle, I think due to a very, very hard winter here in the UK and me trying to kickstart a new business. Let's just say that pacing myself is not my forte but over the last few years I have had to learn or wind up with permanent viral ache and/or having to sleep all day. I repeat, not going to happen.
Very happy with the self hypno yesterday when I was non-hungover enough to do it haha. It is progress, and if I'm making progress, I'm happy. My normal inclination is to want to progress about eight billion steps forward a day but my inner Zen master tells me even one step forward a day is fine. This sometimes makes me want to tell my inner Zen master to go fuck themselves, but that's only because I'm annoyed that they're right. Also need to accept that some days one step takes the effort of about eight billion so don't knock the one when it happens. It's still forward, that's what counts.
Advice from hypno-dude on Friday was also to work on projecting positive body language. I am to consciously move as a positive person free of crap. I'm going to have to think about this one, not because I don't want to do it but I'm not totally sure how to work it in practice. I do know there are times I'm out where I just wish I could do what I have to do, not talk to anyone and go home and/or shrink into the background unnoticed where I am (apparently) safe. Realistically nobody who's five feet nine and seventeen stone can shrink into the background, particularly when they dress like me, but the thought occasionally comforts me while at the same making me want to slap myself stupid for such terrible logic.
The fat has definitely been a hiding mechanism and it says something that your mind can somehow lead you to honestly believe you can hide from the world when you are (as I was) 22 stone. What the actual fuck? You can't hide a moving target, let alone a bloody enormous one!
Was very sad to wake up this morning to news from Aus that Mandawuy Yunupingu has died. Mandawho Yunuwhat I hear you ask? He was probably best known internationally as the lead singer of Aboriginal band Yothu Yindi, but was also an incredible motivator and educator, somebody who worked hard not only to improve the lives of his own people, but for reconciliation and frankly in Australia that can be a hard road to hoe. I have to thank him not only for his work but for a song which has motivated me to get off my arse and sort myself out for the last twenty years. It's not his or the song's fault it's taking so bloody long. (Inner Zen master now reminds me about the one step. Persistent git.) RIP Uncle.
(By the way, please, please don't watch the vid to this, just listen to the song. Note to Youtube users...if you are going to do a lyrics vid, get the lyrics and spelling right!!!!!)
Going to try and keep this one brief today as I seem to be getting some bloody fluey thing not that long after getting some other bloody fluey thing and there are a few alarm bells going off in my head about a possible ME dip, which is not going to friggin' well happen. After a couple of OK years with it this year has been a bit of a struggle, I think due to a very, very hard winter here in the UK and me trying to kickstart a new business. Let's just say that pacing myself is not my forte but over the last few years I have had to learn or wind up with permanent viral ache and/or having to sleep all day. I repeat, not going to happen.
Very happy with the self hypno yesterday when I was non-hungover enough to do it haha. It is progress, and if I'm making progress, I'm happy. My normal inclination is to want to progress about eight billion steps forward a day but my inner Zen master tells me even one step forward a day is fine. This sometimes makes me want to tell my inner Zen master to go fuck themselves, but that's only because I'm annoyed that they're right. Also need to accept that some days one step takes the effort of about eight billion so don't knock the one when it happens. It's still forward, that's what counts.
Advice from hypno-dude on Friday was also to work on projecting positive body language. I am to consciously move as a positive person free of crap. I'm going to have to think about this one, not because I don't want to do it but I'm not totally sure how to work it in practice. I do know there are times I'm out where I just wish I could do what I have to do, not talk to anyone and go home and/or shrink into the background unnoticed where I am (apparently) safe. Realistically nobody who's five feet nine and seventeen stone can shrink into the background, particularly when they dress like me, but the thought occasionally comforts me while at the same making me want to slap myself stupid for such terrible logic.
The fat has definitely been a hiding mechanism and it says something that your mind can somehow lead you to honestly believe you can hide from the world when you are (as I was) 22 stone. What the actual fuck? You can't hide a moving target, let alone a bloody enormous one!
Was very sad to wake up this morning to news from Aus that Mandawuy Yunupingu has died. Mandawho Yunuwhat I hear you ask? He was probably best known internationally as the lead singer of Aboriginal band Yothu Yindi, but was also an incredible motivator and educator, somebody who worked hard not only to improve the lives of his own people, but for reconciliation and frankly in Australia that can be a hard road to hoe. I have to thank him not only for his work but for a song which has motivated me to get off my arse and sort myself out for the last twenty years. It's not his or the song's fault it's taking so bloody long. (Inner Zen master now reminds me about the one step. Persistent git.) RIP Uncle.
(By the way, please, please don't watch the vid to this, just listen to the song. Note to Youtube users...if you are going to do a lyrics vid, get the lyrics and spelling right!!!!!)
Sunday, 2 June 2013
Anger management
Sometimes I wonder what all these chemicals are doing to my brain
Doesn't worry me enough to stop me from doing it again
'The Nips Are Getting Bigger' Mental As Anything
Hello, my name is Sandy and I am not an alcoholic. Today however, I am massively, massively hung over. How the hell did that happen? I mean, I know how it happened but I don't really do massive hangovers. I have a foolproof plan for avoiding them which involves only drinking vodka and soda. Usually works a treat but I had no soda water to take to our friends the Lambretta King and his missus' place last night. Wound up taking light cranberry juice instead. See, it's the bloody fruit, not the third of a bottle of vodka!
As a result it's now about three in the afternoon and no I have not done my self hypno today yet because I was in bed until about two feeling really good as long as I didn't attempt to move. Normal service will resume shortly I am sure. I would say I'm never going to drink again but I'm Australian and to speak such heresy may result in me being thrown out by the immigration authorities when I try and go back. I'm sure I saw an episode of 'Nothing To Declare' where that happened.
Progress report from yesterday. One self hypno session done and quite productively I think, but need to work out a way to alert the kindest man in the world when I'm doing it because he'll wander past and start having a chat, disturbing the aura of Zen calm I've worked so hard to develop. Maybe I need to hang a sign around my neck. It's not as simple as just telling him 'I'm going to self hypno now, please bugger off' as it may be he's just come down from having a sleep and I'm not going to wake him up to tell him stuff unless it's about something really important, like football scores or Thatcher dying. Also can't say 'if my eyes are shut just walk on' as he's partially sighted and sometimes can't tell. Need to get my thinking cap on about this one.
When I saw hypno-dude last Tuesday, one of the things he asked me was if I had a lot of anger and I've been pondering this one for the last few days. I don't regard myself as an angry person. This may be a tad delusional on my part. I get angry at myself for allowing things in my life to crush my self esteem and occasionally lead me to eat my body weight in crisps. I get very angry at stupidity, and given the current state of the world and the number of fucktards that are given air time these days that is a shitload of stuff to get angry at. My friends on Facebook are used now to me ranting about the stupid actions of governments, the EDL, Justin Bieber, moronic opinions about immigrants and people who are threatened by marriage equality. Gay marriage threatens the institution? Fucking spare me. Think of an argument against it that isn't based in fear, ignorance or religious superstition and I will still disagree with you but at least you've thought it through intellectually rather than dribbling biased shit.
Had better stop that train of thought before it turns into another rant haha but yes I do get angry and I sometimes wonder whether it's a way of deflecting my own crappy self esteem. Yes I am passionate about social justice, inequality and wanting to shoot Simon Cowell before he inflicts any more shit music on the world, but in some ways those things are a lot safer to get angry about than thinking about the hole I've dug for myself and getting angry as hell that I didn't put my energy into something more productive.
The problem, if you can call it that, with assuming responsibility for your own big pile of poo is that you can't blame anyone else. I don't want to blame anybody else for my pile of poo, and I will not blame anyone else for my pile of poo. My life, my responsibility, end of. But if I don't want to blame anyone else...why am I so happy to blame me? Aren't I worthy of the same respect I give other people? Other than members of the EDL and Justin Bieber, of course. I can't respect morons.
I don't want to be angry with me because it's yet another waste of time and energy in pursuit of happy well adjusted Sandy and frankly more than enough time and energy has been wasted in that regard. All it does is get me deeper into the cycle of self beating uppage and that's one particular roller coaster I am frigging desperate to get off.. Lesson for the day, accept damage done to self without judgement. Can't change the past, but can work towards a better tomorrow.
Doesn't worry me enough to stop me from doing it again
'The Nips Are Getting Bigger' Mental As Anything
Hello, my name is Sandy and I am not an alcoholic. Today however, I am massively, massively hung over. How the hell did that happen? I mean, I know how it happened but I don't really do massive hangovers. I have a foolproof plan for avoiding them which involves only drinking vodka and soda. Usually works a treat but I had no soda water to take to our friends the Lambretta King and his missus' place last night. Wound up taking light cranberry juice instead. See, it's the bloody fruit, not the third of a bottle of vodka!
As a result it's now about three in the afternoon and no I have not done my self hypno today yet because I was in bed until about two feeling really good as long as I didn't attempt to move. Normal service will resume shortly I am sure. I would say I'm never going to drink again but I'm Australian and to speak such heresy may result in me being thrown out by the immigration authorities when I try and go back. I'm sure I saw an episode of 'Nothing To Declare' where that happened.
Progress report from yesterday. One self hypno session done and quite productively I think, but need to work out a way to alert the kindest man in the world when I'm doing it because he'll wander past and start having a chat, disturbing the aura of Zen calm I've worked so hard to develop. Maybe I need to hang a sign around my neck. It's not as simple as just telling him 'I'm going to self hypno now, please bugger off' as it may be he's just come down from having a sleep and I'm not going to wake him up to tell him stuff unless it's about something really important, like football scores or Thatcher dying. Also can't say 'if my eyes are shut just walk on' as he's partially sighted and sometimes can't tell. Need to get my thinking cap on about this one.
When I saw hypno-dude last Tuesday, one of the things he asked me was if I had a lot of anger and I've been pondering this one for the last few days. I don't regard myself as an angry person. This may be a tad delusional on my part. I get angry at myself for allowing things in my life to crush my self esteem and occasionally lead me to eat my body weight in crisps. I get very angry at stupidity, and given the current state of the world and the number of fucktards that are given air time these days that is a shitload of stuff to get angry at. My friends on Facebook are used now to me ranting about the stupid actions of governments, the EDL, Justin Bieber, moronic opinions about immigrants and people who are threatened by marriage equality. Gay marriage threatens the institution? Fucking spare me. Think of an argument against it that isn't based in fear, ignorance or religious superstition and I will still disagree with you but at least you've thought it through intellectually rather than dribbling biased shit.
Had better stop that train of thought before it turns into another rant haha but yes I do get angry and I sometimes wonder whether it's a way of deflecting my own crappy self esteem. Yes I am passionate about social justice, inequality and wanting to shoot Simon Cowell before he inflicts any more shit music on the world, but in some ways those things are a lot safer to get angry about than thinking about the hole I've dug for myself and getting angry as hell that I didn't put my energy into something more productive.
The problem, if you can call it that, with assuming responsibility for your own big pile of poo is that you can't blame anyone else. I don't want to blame anybody else for my pile of poo, and I will not blame anyone else for my pile of poo. My life, my responsibility, end of. But if I don't want to blame anyone else...why am I so happy to blame me? Aren't I worthy of the same respect I give other people? Other than members of the EDL and Justin Bieber, of course. I can't respect morons.
I don't want to be angry with me because it's yet another waste of time and energy in pursuit of happy well adjusted Sandy and frankly more than enough time and energy has been wasted in that regard. All it does is get me deeper into the cycle of self beating uppage and that's one particular roller coaster I am frigging desperate to get off.. Lesson for the day, accept damage done to self without judgement. Can't change the past, but can work towards a better tomorrow.
Saturday, 1 June 2013
Let's get metaphysical
OK so only three or four days in but this new journey of self awareness seems to be chugging along fine so far. Self-hypno done yesterday and update sent to hypno-dude, who has reassured me that my wandering mind is not a problem (in this regard anyway haha) and gently suggested I may be overcomplicating the crap out/good stuff in part a tad...which doesn't surprise me in the slightest. I think that sometimes I need to think less about thinking. Do you think I'm right? I thought so.
In terms of how all this is affecting my outlook, I do feel like I'm making progress in feeling like a worthwhile human being but it hasn't stopped me eating. I put the full stop there because that's where the full stop came in in my mind and better to put it there and acknowledge it, ather than rethink it into something more socially acceptable. I don't want to stop eating, really. I made a pretty good bulimic in the past but I would be an absolutely terrible anorexic. Fancy not eating at all! I don't want to stop eating, I just want not to think about it so bloody much (there's the thinking thing again, bugger it). This week has not been stellar in the food stakes but I did weigh myself this morning and I'm only up a pound so that's good going as far as I'm concerned.
I am (admittedly reluctantly) coming around to the thought I may have to put my weight loss (five stone so far, go me) on hold a bit while I work on other stuff that needs fixing, which let's face it probably was the cause of being ten stone overweight in the first place. Do I just want to be thin, or do I want to be happy in myself and relatively well adjusted? Do I have to choose? Right now? Aaaaaggghhh!!!
This morning I've been rereading a very fine book, 'Living Well With Pain and Ilness: The mindful way to free yourself from suffering' which I first bought when I arrived in England two and a half years ago. Two and a half years? That doesn't sound right. No, it is. Forgive me, I've been back and forth so much in the last few years, and am so crap at maths that it's hard to keep track. I bought it a while ago, that'll do. I'm currently rereading it primarily to see how I can help the kindest man in the world, who after 28 years of type 1 diabetes has, among other things, major neuropathic issues with his feet which are currently keeping him awake at night and painkillers and medication really aren't cutting it. What do you you do when Western medicine has no answers, but you still want quality of life?
The author explains it's an attitude adjustment. She's a Buddhist and very into the whole 'suffering is caused by wanting' philosophy of Buddhism, in this case, suffering is caused not just by the pain but wanting not to have it and railing against it. So there's primary suffering (being in pain or ill) and secondary suffering (fighting and railing against it, or trying to block it out completely) and ultimately it's the secondary suffering which affects your life the most and makes you miserable.
I do have issues with this whole suffering caused by wanting thing, which is probably as much my ignorance of what it really means as much as anything. But, but, have to also accept that a lot of the pain in my life has been caused not by the actual shit things that happened but how I responded during and after. But, but if you just accept everything that happens to you in some Zen induced hippy dippy it's all written in the universe way, doesn't that make you a victim? Haven't some of the greatest injustices in the world been stopped by fighting them?
Obviously I haven't really got to grips with the book yet. Maybe the answer's in a chapter I haven't read but I can't get away from the knowledge that trying to run away from (block out the suffering of) stuff that has happened to me has never, ever helped me feel better or be a better person. Fuck knows I've tried!!
In the end, you can't escape pain of some sort, can you? It happens to us all, physically, mentally and emotionally. Are you going to spend your whole life bitching and whinging about it or learn what you need to learn from it and move on to something else? If the pain is permanent, are you going to spend your whole life bitching and whinging or are you going to learn from it and grow? Well, Sandy, are you?
I have two very dear friends back in Australia, Gary and Tanya, who lost their four year old daughter to meningococcal disease a couple of years ago. We visited them when we were back in Aus last year. Their pain is still excruciating and obvious, but at the same time they're carrying it with a dignity that awes me. In the two days we spent with them, Gary said something which I think will be with me forever, that he has fully accepted that there's going to be an undercurrent of sadness in him for the rest of his life. No bitterness, just acceptance. Does this bring his daughter back? No. Does it let him live the rest of his life and look after his wife and son in the best possible way? Yes.
I'd feel like a twit chanting and incense does my sinuses in, but the Buddhists may just be on to something.
In terms of how all this is affecting my outlook, I do feel like I'm making progress in feeling like a worthwhile human being but it hasn't stopped me eating. I put the full stop there because that's where the full stop came in in my mind and better to put it there and acknowledge it, ather than rethink it into something more socially acceptable. I don't want to stop eating, really. I made a pretty good bulimic in the past but I would be an absolutely terrible anorexic. Fancy not eating at all! I don't want to stop eating, I just want not to think about it so bloody much (there's the thinking thing again, bugger it). This week has not been stellar in the food stakes but I did weigh myself this morning and I'm only up a pound so that's good going as far as I'm concerned.
I am (admittedly reluctantly) coming around to the thought I may have to put my weight loss (five stone so far, go me) on hold a bit while I work on other stuff that needs fixing, which let's face it probably was the cause of being ten stone overweight in the first place. Do I just want to be thin, or do I want to be happy in myself and relatively well adjusted? Do I have to choose? Right now? Aaaaaggghhh!!!
This morning I've been rereading a very fine book, 'Living Well With Pain and Ilness: The mindful way to free yourself from suffering' which I first bought when I arrived in England two and a half years ago. Two and a half years? That doesn't sound right. No, it is. Forgive me, I've been back and forth so much in the last few years, and am so crap at maths that it's hard to keep track. I bought it a while ago, that'll do. I'm currently rereading it primarily to see how I can help the kindest man in the world, who after 28 years of type 1 diabetes has, among other things, major neuropathic issues with his feet which are currently keeping him awake at night and painkillers and medication really aren't cutting it. What do you you do when Western medicine has no answers, but you still want quality of life?
The author explains it's an attitude adjustment. She's a Buddhist and very into the whole 'suffering is caused by wanting' philosophy of Buddhism, in this case, suffering is caused not just by the pain but wanting not to have it and railing against it. So there's primary suffering (being in pain or ill) and secondary suffering (fighting and railing against it, or trying to block it out completely) and ultimately it's the secondary suffering which affects your life the most and makes you miserable.
I do have issues with this whole suffering caused by wanting thing, which is probably as much my ignorance of what it really means as much as anything. But, but, have to also accept that a lot of the pain in my life has been caused not by the actual shit things that happened but how I responded during and after. But, but if you just accept everything that happens to you in some Zen induced hippy dippy it's all written in the universe way, doesn't that make you a victim? Haven't some of the greatest injustices in the world been stopped by fighting them?
Obviously I haven't really got to grips with the book yet. Maybe the answer's in a chapter I haven't read but I can't get away from the knowledge that trying to run away from (block out the suffering of) stuff that has happened to me has never, ever helped me feel better or be a better person. Fuck knows I've tried!!
In the end, you can't escape pain of some sort, can you? It happens to us all, physically, mentally and emotionally. Are you going to spend your whole life bitching and whinging about it or learn what you need to learn from it and move on to something else? If the pain is permanent, are you going to spend your whole life bitching and whinging or are you going to learn from it and grow? Well, Sandy, are you?
I have two very dear friends back in Australia, Gary and Tanya, who lost their four year old daughter to meningococcal disease a couple of years ago. We visited them when we were back in Aus last year. Their pain is still excruciating and obvious, but at the same time they're carrying it with a dignity that awes me. In the two days we spent with them, Gary said something which I think will be with me forever, that he has fully accepted that there's going to be an undercurrent of sadness in him for the rest of his life. No bitterness, just acceptance. Does this bring his daughter back? No. Does it let him live the rest of his life and look after his wife and son in the best possible way? Yes.
I'd feel like a twit chanting and incense does my sinuses in, but the Buddhists may just be on to something.
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