Wanderer of the Void

Hi.
I'm Leisa.
It's been a while, hasn't it?
A long while.
My last blog entry was a rant and it was over on another one of my blogs that I had forgotten even existed. This entry isn't a rant....and it's firmly placed on a familiar writing platform to me. This is more automatic writing of no particular eloquence, breaking rules of spelling and grammar and sentence construction.
Once upon a time I read the blog of a woman and her four daughters who, after an unspeakable tragedy, wandered from place to place, exploring, connecting, re-organising their lives into some form of random structure. I used to envy them, wishing I could just move around from place to place, not needing a base but just free to move wherever the wind blew, connecting with new people and places and things only to move on again.
Be careful what you wish for. It may come to you....but not in the way you imagined and not in the way you particularly like. I've been moving around from place to place for a number of years now and it's not fun. It's not exciting.
I am surrounded by so many beautiful people who I adore. I am performing and being sought after to work with. I am creating. I am being paid to do what I love. Sometimes I will do it without being paid because I love it so much. I love the adrenaline. I love the feeling of creating something. I love the feeling of co-creating something. I love even the feeling of talking about possibilities even though those possibilities may never happen. I see more shows. I engage with more art. My mind is open to new things and experiences. I challenge old ways of thinking, formulate new thoughts and ideas.

I am so fucking lonely I can't stand it any more. I look down the barrel of a future I never imagined nor planned for and I am filled with terror. Absolute, white hot, soul crushing terror. I long for the end but lack the courage to follow through. I've done 18 years worth of therapy only to come out with an outcome I didn't hope for.

I divorced a person I still love. Do you know what that feel like?

I fell in love with someone who I knew right from the start would never stay. I was ok with this until I was forced out of the easiness that was us by someone who saw and still sees me as a threat.

I hate with a passion I never dreamed possible. It's so intense that it both terrifies and excites me.

I look in the mirror and I don't know who I am anymore. The characters on stage feel more safe to be than the one in the mirror. They are fierce, confident, assured, loved, affirmed, safe. The one in the mirror walks home in the dark on her own, gets into bed alone, rises alone, eats in silence, works and does it all again the next day....day after day after day.

The skin hunger has reached an unbearable level. Do I still exist if I am untouched? It doesn't feel it. I resent those that say...."but in spite of all the problems and trauma I still hold them and fall asleep." That fuels the hate. I pay to be touched. I pay for it. Shaitsu. Thai. All above board. But I hate the fact that I have to pay for it....and the hands doing it don't know me at all....but anything for some kind of grounding. Anything that tells me I exist.

I don't think I do really. I am simply the product of some higher beings insane imagination.

I'm also starting to hate the letter S at the end of words. There's a reason for this.

Rub it out, start again.

Hi there readers.

I know I've been AWOL. As a blogger I'm acutely aware of this. I've been thinking a lot. During those times I've had periods where I've just wanted to grab the keyboard and write and write through an inspirational stream of consciousness. There have been many other times where I've just wanted to pull the plug on this blogging business....well....this one in particular. I find that I don't know how to write my experiences of being a person of short stature because...well...it's just me doing life. Doing life at 117cm is pretty much the same as it is at 185cm...I guess. Nothing much to report really. My spine is doing great, no tingling or numbness anywhere - which is pretty cool considering my age. Still...I never know what's around the corner but I'll cross that bridge if ever I happen to come across it in my travels. 

I've been thinking of simply rubbing all this out and starting again mainly because the biggest journey I have taken is the journey towards wellness - physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually - and I want to talk more about that. This is a journey that I think everyone can relate to so maybe I will just be adding to the myriad of blogs out there dedicated to the same things. I don't know. There have been times I've thought about rubbing all this out and not starting again at all. I'm not a consistent blogger, I don't stick to a theme, I don't network. I suck. 

I keep thinking of the concept of Girl Interrupted. It's certainly felt like that for me. Girlhood was interrupted at the age of nineteen for me, and now I've had the chance to start agin in my 40's. I'm discovering so many new things, confronting a lot of old things and working out exactly who Leisa is without all her props - standing alone. Should I write about that? Does anyone want to read about all that? Should anyone read about all that? Is this journey simply a private matter? All of these questions I ponder often as I run, commute or stare off into space. 

Just so it's out there, I'm in therapy. Two lots of therapy to be honest. One to work on just me, the other to work on....other stuff. I gotta say that personal therapy has to be the best thing ever invented. I've been seeing this particular therapist on and off for the better part of fifteen years and each time I head in for another group of the allotted 10 mental health plan sessions (Because the 11th Commandment states that: "Thou shalt be mentally well and sorted out after 10 sessions or else!") it's such a relief to know that I don't have to waste time going through all the background junk because.....you know, TEN SESSIONS ONLY! Whose got time for background stuff?

Anyway...my therapist has well and truly gotten the impression that I mean business this time. I think he worked that out by session one when I came in with something I'd written and read it out loud to him. I could see him mentally pulling up his sleeves, rubbing his hands together and saying, "Right!" It's good to be able to talk with someone objective; whose not emotionally invested. You can say whatever you need to say without fear of upsetting anyone, offending anyone or treading on eggshells. Because of this, you gain clearer insights, start to see a way forward, work on your own goals and formulate strategies on how to get there. 

Why people are afraid to say they're in therapy or counselling is beyond me. It's such a positive and powerful thing to do. Nothing to be ashamed of. 

Thanks for listening. 

In which she gets up again

One good thing about releasing the release valve is that it gives people the opportunity to come in and rally around you. 

I learned a valuable lesson about all this following my last post.

How can people help if they don't know you need it?

I don't know what it is that makes me so fiercely independent; projecting the "I'm alright Jack!" persona that I do. Psychologists would possibly say that it has a lot to do with being the firstborn - the grin and bear it mentality, the people pleasing, the approval cravings. Maybe so.

Following the concerned advice of a dear friend I've made some appointments to explore some of that and address the dark thinking that seems to have pervaded my world at the moment. It's a relief to have done so. 

Whatever was ailing my dog seems to have been cleared out, thanks to the mess that greeted me on Monday evening. She is back to her normal self, has accompanied me on a short run and is now beautifully quoiffed following an appointment with the groomer. The carpets ate cleaned and we've returned to some kind of order.

Friends rallied around after Monday. Financial assistance was given quietly and without question. A box of organic fruit, vegetables, eggs, home grown and made goodies was delivered by a generous soul. I had lunch with some friends on Wednesday and quietened my mind with a Restorative yoga class. 

I guess you could say that I'm learning to look after myself again.

A very dear friend reminded me of safety instructions given before every flight, "Please put on your own oxygen mask before assisting others." I do need to apply that principle on a daily basis. How can I help others if I neglect myself?

It's good to be independent, but independence doesn't mean that you can't rely on others for assistance. It's not good to be an island, a lone ranger. We all need each other and this week I discovered that I am a better me if I let others into my world and allow them to bless me. In turn, it allows me opportunities to bless them in return. 

I cannot express my gratitude to each and every soul who showed concern in the different ways they did. They all helped immensely and in various ways, showed me the tools to help move forward.

I am forever grateful.

Two steps away

Despite the fact that March is filled with birthdays for our family and should be a month of fun, I found March to be a struggle this year.

To be honest, I have struggled with my own mental health. I have been anxious, overwhelmed and in a deeper hole than I care to admit, even needing time out just to get my head together.

I guess there are many reasons that contributed to this. Since December it has been one change after another and I don't do change well. I like predictability and familiarity. Yes I like adventure, but I like adventure that I've planned for. Above all, I love home best. I guess, since December, I've struggled to know where that is. Everything seems unfamiliar and I don't quite know where my place is in the world.

Over the past few weeks as I have been out and about I've encountered people in the streets, on the tram and on the train who seem...broken. I find myself wondering what their stories are. Who were they before I encountered them? What started their slow erosion and what were the events that continued that erosion of mind and body? I see them talking to people who seem very real to them but I am not able to see and I hear them talking in ways that, to me, make no sense whatsoever.

I find my heart move with compassion towards these broken lives because sometimes I feel as though I am only two steps away from where they are.  What tips the balance between sanity and madness? Sometimes I feel as though it will only take one more thing before I tumble those two steps down into being someone completely different to the person I started out being.

Beautiful mess

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I've been absent from the blogosphere. Most of that is because I don't know what to write. I don't know what part of the journey to chronicle as life just seems mundane. We don't really go anywhere. We don't really do anything of local/global significance. Who wants to read about us?

And yet I find myself that the everyday pondering and musings and happenings of other people are exactly the blogs I love so dearly. I love how their words seem to just flow so beautifully on the page screen and I am continually inspired. 

So I determine to write more, and yet I don't. Today I am going with the determination. I shall write about my current musings at least.

I've had plenty of time to muse as well. Last week I was holed up on the couch, feeling very ordinary after a dalliance with gastro. I'm a dreadful sook when it comes to being sick and losing control over what my digestive tract does. I need someone in the room with me as I go through the throes of what gastro entails. I need them to tell me I'm going to be ok. Sad, isn't it? This time the task fell to my eldest daughter, who gallantly stayed in the room, told me I could still breathe after I inhaled at the wrong time and thought I was going to die a rock star death, and got me back to bed again. 

I was also on the couch because my right leg was giving me (and is still giving me) curry. I've been having muscle spasms for over a week now which has drastically reduced the amount of running I've done. I miss it so! This pain is reminiscent of pain I used to be in as a little girl. I remember laying on the couch with my legs in such pain. My father used to sit with me and massage my legs which brought temporary relief. The kids took turns massaging this time. 

So, whilst I was holed up on the couch watching countless DVD's and knitting I also mused a lot about our life, my journey, my current itchy feet, my longings for a simple life, my current relationship status with my husband, faith, religion and world peace........well, not really about world peace, but you get the picture. I began to feel grateful for my body actually making me stop and take some time out to rest and reflect as it healed. Sometimes I think physical sickness is your body's way of making you take time out to give your brain time to de-fragment itself. So, that's what I did...and I chose to stop feeling guilty about my lack of activity and let the world - my world at least - just carry on without me. 

And it did just fine. 

So, with this blog.....I think it's time to just open it up more, be more consistent, stop waiting for the amazing things to happen and just start looking for the small things in every day that are just as amazing.

The Happiness Project

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kikkiK emailed me a $10 voucher for my birthday earlier this month. I love kikkiK, although I don't shop there often. I do love to browse through and look at all the beautiful stationery. I looked at the email on Monday and realised that I only had until the end of this month to redeem the voucher, so I printed it out and went down to my local store as I walked home from work.

It didn't take me long to spot this gorgeous little book sitting on the shelf. I didn't even have to read the blurb, I just had to have it! The title alone spoke to me. I quickly picked it up, redeemed my voucher, paid the balance of $14.95 and it was mine. I can't wait to read it. I'm reading Game of Thrones at the moment  but as soon as that's finished this little book and I have a date!

The Happiness Project chronicles Gretchen Rubin's year long test driving of theories and studies about how people can be happier. I realised when I saw the book that I have been participating in my own Happiness Project for the past year. It's all been unconscious, but I have done a lot of reflecting of late as to why I am happy and how I came to this place of contentedness. 

Here's what I have discovered:

* Smiling!  How simple is that? It's simple but it's powerful. Smiling is relaxing. It takes fewer muscles to smile than it does to frown. Did you know that? Come on! Everyone knows that! I find that if I smile my mood really does lift. And guess what? I see more people smiling back at me when I'm smiling for no reason except that it feels good. It's contagious! Like the saying goes, if you see someone without a smile give them one of yours! Seriously though, never underestimate the power of smiling. 

* Stop the negative self-talk. Honestly, if I talked to my friends the way I used to talk to myself NO ONE would want to be my friend....and I wouldn't blame them. Everyone wants to be encouraged, so why not start by encouraging yourself? If you make a mistake, don't beat yourself up for it! Just take a deep breath and be thankful that you've learned a new way how NOT to do something. Tell yourself to keep going. Appreciate yourself for putting in time and effort on something. Look at a project you've completed and instead of looking at all the little flaws you know are there look at the finished project and be proud of it. Tell yourself it's beautiful. Tell yourself you LOOK beautiful.

* Physical exercise. Oh my goodness! No one told me that there were so many feel-good endorphins that kicked in when you participate in regular physical exercise. I love this natural high! My addiction is running. I simply love it, but when I started I could barely run 100 metres without feeling I was going to die. I could have given up then and there, thinking I was a hopeless cause, but I persisted because I'd always admired runners and wanted to be one. It paid off. The longest distance I have run is 7 kilometres and I recently participated in my first Fun Run by entering Run for the Kids 5.5km course. Running has improved my mental health exponentially. I feel fit, strong and healthy - physically, mentally and emotionally.  So, find what works for you and go for it! You won't regret it!

* Sunshine and fresh air. Hand in hand with physical exercise comes sunshine and fresh air. I'm not a gym junkie. I don't particularly like exercising indoors. Nothing beats getting out there in the early morning sun and the crisp, fresh air and going for a run - or at least walking briskly. During my lunch break I also like to head out for a walk. I find it clears my head and my mood, giving me the extra oomph to get through the rest of the work day. I also love to spend time on the beach watching the sunset with the kids, walking through the bush and sometimes simply sitting in my backyard being still and appreciating the sun on my face and breeze on my skin. So, get out there and breathe and get some Vitamin D!

* Look after yourself. I was one of those wives and mothers who made sure that everyone else was taken care of and I got what was left over. I guess to some extent I still do this, but I also know how to say "no" more often. If I'm too tired or emotionally drained to do something for someone else I have no qualms in saying so. Sometimes I've even pampered myself - had a massage, taken myself off to read a book and drink a coffee in my favorite coffee shop. I've treated myself to a cute top I've admired, simply because I want to dress nicely. Get more sleep! See a friend! Go to the movies by yourself! 

* Learning to love yourself. There's a vast difference between being "up yourself" and loving yourself. Being "up yourself' is selfish, conceited, borne from the fear that you're actually not good enough so you try and be better than everyone. Loving yourself is gentle. Loving yourself is accepting yourself just as you are. Loving yourself means that you take care of yourself, that you realise you're a beautiful, priceless human being. Loving yourself means taking an honest look at yourself, facing up to the traits you know aren't particularly attractive (like gossip, being judgmental) and challenging yourself to change for the better. Let go of old hurts and bitterness that have been weighing you down and cause ugliness to take root. One of the most WONDERFUL things I've learned about loving myself is that I've found I have SO MUCH MORE love to give out! There's no room for rubbish anymore because there's so much love! How can you love others effectively if you don't know how to love yourself, when you're constantly down on yourself and judging yourself according to how you see others?  

* Find what you love doing and do it passionately. For me, it's running and taking care of my home and family. I also love sewing, knitting and reading. Things like running, sewing and knitting involve repetitive movement. I've found  that repetitive movement soothes me and promotes a sense of calm. I recently finished a Fringed Quilt for my daughter Sarah's birthday. It was so therapeutic sewing this quilt and the best part of all was that she LOVES it because it features fabrics from her childhood. This makes me SO happy.

There are probably hundreds of other items on my Happiness Project List, but these are the big ones. 

I can't wait to read The Happiness Project and get some more ideas!

Call me crazy but...

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I cannot begin to tell you how much I love running.

It's actually really surprised me how much I enjoy it. 

Despite the fact that my morning alarm wakes me too early at 5am and the night seemed to have flown by, I love the feeling of putting on my gear and my shoes, grabbing my iPhone and earphones, clicking on RunKeeper and heading out the door in the quiet of the morning, where it's still dark and most of the world hasn't yet woken.

I usually do a warm up walk for about a kilometre. Then I stretch out my hip flexors as advised by my chiropractor. Then I start running.

The first wall hits within the first 200 metres. I wonder if it will be today that I give up and say that it's all too hard. I argue with my mind and body. 

"Come on! You know this is the first wall. It always happens. Push! It will get better!"

Then comes a shuddering breath and I'm through.

This morning's run was....dare I even say it....a pleasure? I didn't think it would be. I was all geared up for it to be a slog. Hormonally I'm headed into a rough patch. Apparently my hips kind of lock up as I head towards my period and this is the week it normally happens. It didn't. I hadn't even really planned to jog. Just a brisk walk. But when I got down to the reserve a kilometre down the road (well, actually it's just under 800m) I did a stretch and started....and ran......and the wall wasn't too bad....and I kept going and going and going.

The second wall hits around 3.5km in and I slow down a bit but today it wasn't too bad and I kept going through it, enjoying the rhythmic pounding of feet on pavement. My breathing had managed to find a steady, easy rhythm. My mind felt clear and I let it meander around my thoughts and clear out some of the cobwebs.

I finished off the last kilometre with a lap around the reserve across the road from my house. Normally the last 200m are a nightmare with my muscles screaming for the end. Not today. As I approached the end I thought, "I really could do another lap!" but I didn't because of time constraints. Maybe next time.

I jogged a total of 5km and walked 0.94km at an average of 9.13min/km.  It felt great. I got home and devoured breakfast. Running makes me hungry.

I registered for the 5.5km course for Run for the Kids yesterday. I think I'm ready.

Kindred Spirits

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You know, the more "recovery groups" I do, the more blogs/diaries I read and the more I attempt to connect with people; the more I learn that the experiences I've had as a person with a "difference" are not exclusive to me, to people like me, to people with a difference/disability. They're all part of the human condition.

It's been quite comforting really, because I've realized that there are more kindred spirits out there than I originally thought.

People I've judged as being physically attractive often struggle with being extremely insecure about their bodies.

People I've seen as happy and confident, who seem to have no shortage of people who like them can often be insecure and shy.

People who have no reason to suspect that they stand out and are up for public scrutiny can feel horribly self-conscious when they're out in public and they almost pray not to be noticed and will do everything they can to avoid attention being drawn to them.

This year I've learned to let people in and I've learned that we can ALL relate on some level. I've felt less alone on what I perceived as my little island.

Let's hear it for SSRI's!

I think taking control of my mental health is one of the most sensible decisions I've made all year.

I guess there's still a stigma attached to antidepressants. Maybe people see it as admitting defeat, that you're too weak to cope on your own, that you really are seriously losing the plot. I didn't *really* want to take them. My prior experiences of them weren't really the most positive. I felt like a bit of a zombie, looking at life around me through a glass box. I felt neither happy nor sad, excited nor down. I just felt...nothing. Just this disinterested observation of life around me; just going through the motions like an automaton. The only thing I could feel was a soaring libido which was annoying more than anything.

I didn't want that again, especially this time when I was about to embark on a ten week Art program for people who experienced anxiety and depression. I wanted to be able to tap into emotion and draw on it to be able to produce good art. I didn't want my art to be a reflection of disinterested observation.

But I knew I needed something to help me undertake some necessary changes in my life. Mental health is just as important as physical wellness. Let's face it, if you presented to a doctor with a broken leg the doctor wouldn't just say, "Cheer up! Things will get better! Just keep going and your leg will get better eventually!" No! You'd be treated, your leg set and encased in a cast and you'd be given a pair of crutches to help you get around until your leg totally healed. Perhaps you'd even be sent off to a physiotherapist to help with the healing.

So why do we think that when we have a broken heart, or broken emotions and an overwhelmed mind we should just carry on? We shouldn't! For me, I knew that I was on the right road, but with my current mental circumstances I was easily going to get overwhelmed and just keep traipsing around in the wilderness, never fully healing, never getting anywhere. So I went to my doctor and I told her where I was at, told her all the practical things I was doing to help myself heal, explained how I felt on the last course of antidepressants, and together we formulated a plan to help me on the road to holistic health.

This time I've been dedicated to it. I've stayed consistent with my medication, my exercise plan, my diet and building relationships. The medication has helped me balance everything. I'm not a zombie looking through a plate of glass. I can feel all emotion but it doesn't overwhelm me like before. I can plan and think logically. I still tear up at touching, emotional scenes in movies and at beautiful, joyous moments in my own life. I feel more like ME - and I like it.

So, that's the reason why Lexapro is my friend right now and one of the most sensible things I've done for myself this year. I hope one day I'll be healed enough to be weaned off it but for now it's part of my daily routine. I like the way it's helped me through an incredibly trying year. I like the way it's helped me give myself a break and enabled me to learn that I am ok just as I am.