Posts tagged ‘worth’

Decency

There are some people in our everyday lives that seem to unconsciously use us and manipulate us to satisfy their own selfish whims. They will of course tell themselves it’s justified. They don’t see the self-centredness in their behaviour,  to do so would be to admit they are not good at the core and let’s be honest, nobody really wants to face up to that.

My example is of my most recent ex-boyfriend. Bet you were all wondering where my dating blogs had gone. The summarised version is that he did all the chasing, he pursued me tirelessly but as it turns out most of what he told me was a fairy tale. They were small plausible lies that made him feel good about himself and were devised to reel me in to his duplicitous and twisted world. It all came to a head when he stood me up one day. What astonished me was the fact that he actually tried to blame me for the events of the day. I’d never encountered such arrogance and unwillingness to see outside of one’s own head in all my years. Some might call me gullible for not seeing this trait sooner but I’ve always seen the best in people. I will always take someone at face value until they prove otherwise. Well, surprise surprise, he proved otherwise. I also believe that how you treat people reveals everything about your character that anyone needs to know. The lies began to unravel once I was in a position to examine the relationship more objectively. Each lie when taken alone seemed innocuous enough, such as saying he was on strong sleeping pills when he wasn’t. Why lie about something like that? What’s the point? When did these stories begin? I’ve no idea, but it just takes one lie to call everything he ever said into question.

We’d only been going out a few months, that’s no big deal. What really got me riled was that we’d started out as friends, we’d been close friends for 12 months before the relationship began. I now doubt that our friendship was built on anything other than an elaborate tale of fiction and manipulation designed to massage his fragile ego. Why did he behave so appallingly, both in general and on that particular day? I’ve no idea and I really don’t care what his motives were. All I know is they are not characteristics befitting someone deserving of my time and efforts.

What I would love to know though, is how long he thought his stories would last? Was it calculated or was he making it up as he went along, falling deeper into the morass and trying to bring me with him? Did he even go so far as to believe his own stories?  Did he have an endgame? What was the point of all this? Was it  driven by malice or simply a pathetic attempt to seek affection?

So what is it that drives people like this to lie compulsively to others? Do they consider those around them unworthy of basic honesty and decency? Do they even think about the other people they affect? I appreciate each of us are essentially selfish at our core, that’s simple self preservation, but to cause harm to another for no apparent reason beyond personal gratification or ego-massaging is something I cannot quite get my head around. Surely such a blatant lack of empathy coupled with a fragile ego is classic narcissism, how did I not see this sooner?

Most importantly I refuse to let this change me as a person; elaborate revenge fantasies aside! I will continue to be warm, honest and open to everyone I meet. I will continue to believe that truth is singular and the most valuable gift you can bestow upon anyone. I will continue to maintain a positive outlook in all my dealings with people and in potential relationships. To do anything else would be to let him under my skin and he’s proven that he’s not worth that. But a word to the wise, don’t ever dare lie to me or break my trust: what is it they say about a woman scorned?

And so I’ve returned to Tinder, where for the moment at least, I’m new and interesting. I might even be referred to as fresh meat. And the first date dress is out in force again.

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Who Is Your Best Self?

inner-strength

We all want to be the best possible version of ourselves. We take pride in our successes and try not to dwell too much on our failures. We are continuously learning, growing and changing. We make small changes to our character and attitudes all the time. We learn understanding, compassion, grace or generosity from others. Similarly we can learn intolerance, ignorance, hurt and deceit from the behaviours or reactions of others.

We all try to be a little bit better, stronger or warmer. Yet everyday we experience failures to some degree. From time to time we can come across what seem to be insurmountable walls, obstacles that seem too big for us to overcome.

We look at others, how they scale their walls with ease and wonder is it something we’re doing wrong? Are we weak? Are we destined to sit behind that wall forever and never see the other side? I believe the key to being your best version of yourself is not to be the person to scale the wall first time, every time. The key is to pick yourself up and keep on trying, every single time. I think we learn more and grow more as a result of facing up to these challenges than we actually do from the final act of overcoming them.

There are some truly insurmountable walls that in truth we’ll never beat, but to be perfectly honest most of the walls we meet are those we build ourselves. We decide in advance we can’t do something, or we quit after the first half-hearted attempt. Our strength lies not in our ability to scale these walls but in our ability to keep on trying.

Can you imagine never facing up to the wall? Never trying to get to the other side? Sitting down behind it and shaking with cowardice. Or worse, convincing yourself that you never really wanted to scale that wall anyway, all the while accepting your lot and never achieving your possibilities.

I try to work hard at not lying to myself. I stumble at my walls regularly, as I’m sure we all do but I will usually pick myself up pretty quickly. I pride myself in my resilience, my ability to dust myself off and try again. I’m not particularly special, I’m no better than anyone else but I will keep trying and keep a tight hold of the strength of will that allows me to do it. Some call it stubbornness, I like to call it determination.

When we stop trying; we stop learning, we stop growing, we abandon our dreams and we cease to be valuable to our loved ones.

After all, a diamond is just a piece of charcoal that handled stress exceptionally well.

Enough

Today I’m fed up. I’m fed up of not being well, of not winning the battle. I’m tired of feeling sad, angry, numb, anxious, and inferior. I’m exhausted from the feeling of my heart pounding to get out of my chest, of hyperventilating multiple times a day, of feeling unwell and needy, of feeling unnecessary.

I’ve had enough of having the concentration of a goldfish, although I suspect that’s an urban myth and not actually true. Poor misunderstood goldfish.

I’m worn out from having all my thoughts clouded by negativity and confusion, of not trusting my own thoughts or feelings, of being on edge all the time, of doubting anything good that anyone says to me. I’m fed up of being told that walking, exercise, mindfulness or being busy will help because I’m exhausted just keeping my head above water.

I’m tired of celebrities telling me they’ve been where I am and they got through it. Every battle is different. Every person is different. By telling me they’ve succeeded, they’re reminding me that I’ve failed, yet again. Yes, it’s well intended and it certainly serves to raise awareness but it’s not helping me, clearly I’m doing something wrong if I can’t succeed.

But mostly I can’t take being told again and again that there is an end to these feelings. Depression and anxiety are not like flu, a broken bone or cancer. They are not beaten, you do not heal. More often than not they are never cured. They are managed and balanced every day of my life. I’m fed up of falling down the well numerous times in my life. I’m fed up of climbing back out again. I’m fed up of the never-ending merry-go-round that is my mental illness. I’m fed up (in advance) at the prospect of the rest of my life being like this, a constant balancing act to feel worthwhile for a small snippet of time.

Yes, I’m also fed up of harping on about it. I’m fed up of it dominating so many of my conversations with colleagues and friends. I’m fed up of crying when my boss is being nice to me. I’m fed up of confirming to her that I’m a basket-case. Truth be told, I’m fed up of feeling like a basket-case.

I’m tired.

Down The Well

Imagine you’re walking along a familiar path. There’s a pretty deep hole in the ground, just like a well shaft. You’ve walked this path many, many times. You’ve fallen in occasionally but not every time, sure that’d be silly.

You’ve put up warning signs around the well; you’ve learned to tread carefully so that you won’t misstep again. You’re applying knowledge from previous falls and everything pretty much goes according to plan.

Occasionally you will still lose your footing and when you do fall, what happens is that you won’t have the strength to catch the walls and halt your fall on your own. By far the easier option is to roll into a ball and protect yourself from the inevitable bang that awaits you at the bottom. You convince yourself that once there you will gather your thoughts and consider your options for escape. Of course, the sensible option is to catch yourself mid-way so you’ve less of a distance to climb back up but you’re not thinking rationally, you’re in freefall.

Recently I missed the warning signs and fell. This time was different though. Instead of curling into a ball to protect myself from the impact, I used skills I’d learned from previous falls. Go me! Applied learning FTW!

What I did was I wrote about it here, I told everyone what was happening and do you know what happened? I stopped falling. I clung to the edge of the well and watched as so many people threw ropes to help me up. I’ve stumbled on some of those ropes and I’m still climbing but I refuse to stop climbing, I’m stubborn like that.

What have I learned this time? To talk, don’t just tell someone, you should tell everyone. The people around you won’t know you’re falling if you won’t tell them and they can’t help you if they don’t know. One rope just isn’t enough and it places far too much responsibility on the person holding it at the top. If you had any other illness that you live with and manage daily you’d tell them if it was flaring up, wouldn’t you? So tell them, tell each and every one of them and let them throw you a rope, and they will.

To everyone who called, texted, commented, provided company and identified with my words, thank you. It means so much to know others want me out of the well. I’m not there yet but without you all I’d be sitting at the bottom of that well, alone. Thank you.

 

Until Tomorrow

She’s been doing this for over three weeks now. She gets up, puts on her mask and goes to work. Her colleagues can’t tell the difference, or at least she believes this to be the case. She’s more detached than usual, less likely to partake in daily banter but on the surface little seems different. She’s probably just busy or distracted, they think. Her attention span isn’t what it used to be but she thinks she’s hiding this pretty well too. She makes a note of everything because she’ll forget it if she doesn’t. Her ability to make tough decisions has all but disappeared so she tries to avoid them at all costs and eagerly takes guidance from colleagues.

Once home, the mask comes off. Aah, that’s better. It’s been smothering her, it’s tough work keeping it on all day. In fact it’s utterly exhausting. At least she’s at home now, she shuts the door and is safe from the stress of real life for today.

She should make dinner but feels no incentive. The only value in eating is to quieten the grumbling sound in her abdomen, so she goes straight to bed, eats 2 bars of chocolate and that does the trick for now. Not even chocolate tastes good anymore so why make the effort of real meals. She’ll be hungry again in an hour and will make another poor dietary choice. She’ll eat better tomorrow, when the real world hasn’t felt like such a struggle, just not today. Maybe tomorrow.

She’s deleted her dating profile for now, it’s such hard work interacting with the people she knows and likes that there’s no way she’s in a position to converse and get to know new people. It’s only online but it still requires wearing the mask. It is easier than real world interaction, she knows that but she just can’t be bothered for now. Maybe tomorrow.

What if she went for a walk? Get some air in her lungs, she’s been told repeatedly that exercise is good when she feels like this but she can’t seem to face up to it. The prospect of 30-45 minutes alone with her thoughts while out in the world, is terrifying. She’s tried all day to not let those thoughts in, she’s certainly not going to let them waltz into her consciousness now. The far preferable option is to stay indoors with a box set, away from her thoughts. Her attention span is dead so she can’t risk a movie but she thinks she can manage a TV episode or two. Surely she’s not that much a victim to her own cognition.

Why doesn’t she just go to the doctor or call that person she used to go to when she last felt like this? Well, she can’t even write this in the first person yet so she’s clearly not ready to be proactive in dealing with these feelings. Besides, she just might feel a little stronger tomorrow.

Maybe talk to a friend then, wouldn’t that be easier? Her friends are busy with their own lives so she won’t inconvenience them with something intangible that they can’t fix anyway. Besides, she’d only be whinging. They’ve real lives with real problems. She’s just feeling sorry for herself, it’s not like there’s anything really wrong with her. And maybe it’ll pass, it could all be gone tomorrow and it’ll turn out she was whinging for nothing.

She does know that only she can fix this but she just doesn’t have the energy today. Besides, she’s got to put that mask on again tomorrow and without a good nights sleep that’s going to be tougher than today. So she clings to the hope that she’ll get a good night’s sleep, that tomorrow will be magically better somehow and she won’t have to face up to dealing with this.

How Do You Spell Single?

Online dating is a bit like a left handed wank. It feels weird and unnatural but if you put the effort in, you might just get the result you seek.
With this in mind, perhaps a cursory check of your profile is a good idea, it’s the only thing your prospective dates will have to judge you on. Remember folks, spell check is your friend.

I’m not a complete autocrat, there are some errors I will forgive. I’m also perfectly ok with a lot of text abbreviations. I’m sure I’d never get laid at all if I didn’t forgive the occasional typo of the your/you’re, there/their/they’re and the then/than variety.

image

On one site in particular, one of the questions you need to complete is your occupation. Here’s a selection of occupations of my prospective matches in the greater Galway area:

Pumber
Capinter
Tower cane
Diector
Factoty
Free lancer

I’ve found men on this site in the past few weeks describe themselves as follows:

I am cearing (I can only assume he means caring).
I am toaled am funny (Well I laughed).
People say I am a GD man (No idea what he’s trying to say here).
Will fill dis out later (Can’t imagine how he’ll improve upon this insight into his character).
Could of (Just how difficult is “Could have”)?
Searious (Seariously?)
Simular (Like is far easier to spell correctly).
Looking to meet the wome of my dreams (What’s a wome?).

The pickings are slim, even when I’ve conceded to accept the more forgivable typos. The world of online dating is a very bleak place indeed when spelling skills become a basic requirement in a suitor.

I am also learning quite a lot of peculiar text speak lately. Did you know that bbe means babe? I mean who’d see a need to type an extra letter to make the subject matter clearer? Never mind the fact that we’ve never met and I’m wincing at being called babe, in any format.

I’ll bet you couldn’t guess what wbu stands for? No? Well that’s because the letters in this particular acronym don’t even represent the words within it. It stands for ‘what About you’.

Are single women just as bad? Can anyone spell correctly anymore or am I destined to drop my standards even further?

I despair.

And parents, can you please ensure your offspring never fail to get the ride in the future because of a poor attention to spelling.

The Dress

There are countless variables that go into a successful date. A small selection of these include: are you familiar with the venue, is the atmosphere conducive to conversation, is it coffee or drinks, and how have you been getting along virtually.

There is one thing I can have complete control over and it helps a lot to calm the nerves. I have a dress. Shocker, I hear you say, we’ve all got a dress. This dress is different. It isn’t spectacular, nor does it have some fancy schmancy designer label. What this dress can do is make me feel good about myself and I feel completely comfortable in it.

I’ve worn it on a lot of dates, every 1st date since last October to be exact and it has never let me down yet. I try not to believe in luck so this isn’t my lucky dress, it’s simply my first date dress. Since selecting this uniform for first dates I haven’t yet had a first date that failed to turn into a second unless I decided I didn’t want a second.

In this dress I’m relaxed and comfortable. This must shine through as it’s got a 100% success rate. I highly recommend selecting an outfit that you feel good in, that you look good in and using it for dates only. By all means, trial run a few options first before selecting the right one. It’s the single ingredient in a first date that you’ve got complete control over.

That’s my two cents.