Forgetting in my old age

I lost my way. I am not sure when it happened exactly, or how long ago. But I lost my way.
I stopped trusting, believing in myself. I started doubting, and wondering if what I was doing was the wrong thing. How on earth did that happen? I worked really hard to find that strength in me, and I am a tad disappointed in myself.

I took stock in the last few weeks, and realised that my self love: the one that says that I will accept me regardless of the number on the tag of my clothes, or the size of the dark circles under my eyes, or the tone of my teens voices, had disappeared. That love that would echo my thoughts, and say: "Of course you know what to do, and if you don't, you'll find out!". Damn it!!!! How could I forget?
I guess sometimes it happens because you get knocked down over and over again, and the last time, you allow it to make you lie down for a while. And then you simply forget you fell over, you just stay there and allow people to walk all over you.

I realised mostly when I was preparing to update my blog, and was thinking about the piece I was going to write. And then I looked at it in my mind, and it sounded whingie. Fuck, when did I get whingie? When on earth did I become a martyr, a "poor me" type? NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! I refuse to be that woman, no matter what the pressure remains for feminine women to appear to need to be rescued. I refuse to stay lying down.

So shit has happened, so life is hard. So what? No one ever said it was meant to be easy, and haven't I always thrived under pressure? When did the anxiety consume me rather than fuel me?
I need to start saying: "Good morning, the sun is shining, and I am alive". And "what will I teach my children today?". Lately, the self talk has been more like: "I cannot teach my children anything else", "I have had my time, I am no longer useful". Since fucking when????????

My message here is, that no matter what, I will always be worthy. So, okay, my relationships have mostly not worked out, my preferred career wasn't to be, and internet dating has mostly sucked, I haven't finished my book, my serial attempts at shrinking my arse have resulted in a tight, but large arse. But the point is: I AM ALIVE, I have people who love me and appreciate me (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, YOU PRECIOUS FEW), I am still useful, I am still learning, I am still writing, I am still going to the gym and watching what I eat, I am still dating, and I am still hoping, and loving, and making my life worthwhile.
Next time I tell myself otherwise, someone please shake me! And my hope is that people genuinely never stop talking about hard stuff, the stuff that really matters. Let's not become a society where these topics are taboo. Life sucks most of the time, let's acknowledge it, let's deal with it. Hug someone, be someone's strength when they are low. I know without those people who continue to be my strength I wouldn't be writing these words today.

Strength, vulnerability and Christmas love

It has occurred to me that there is a big difference between being strong and having feelings that make you vulnerable and make you human.
I think it was Buffy the Vampire Slayer who was the first person to ever make me think about this (;)), and recently I have experienced it first hand.
I have had to learn self reliance, yes. I have had to distance myself emotionally from my patients in order to cope with some pretty deep feelings. And maybe I spend too much time doing that. Maybe it is not a bad thing for my children to see me acting like a fishwife every now and again and losing the plot: not always calculated and measured. Maybe it's good for them to see that their mother is human, and vulnerable, and ok the next morning, like that oak tree.
I think the hardest thing is the feeling of falling in a whirlpool and losing control. Nothing a big cry and a sincere phone call to a friend does not fix.
Which brings me to my Christmas wish: I hope that this Christmas I can simply be thankful for all I have. Not the material stuff, not the stuff with price tags; but the knowledge that when I'm really in trouble, I've got at least 5 phone numbers I can try before I need to resort to kicking the punching bag. And my health, my ability to face another year with my health. reasonably intact. Thank you to all those I love, my family, my kids, my friends, my animals. Because they are what makes getting up every morning worthwhile. And if this makes me a little vulnerable and shed a few tears at Christmas, so be it. I plan to embrace my vulnerability in 2015. It's part of me. Love, Yellowfluff. ❤️fi