You can only make yourself happy – no one else

My husband is driving me nuts. NUTS!

He is a deeply unhappy person these days and I don’t know what to say to him anymore. I’ve been avoiding him – which I shouldn’t do – but last night I laid it out straight to him: you need to let go of whatever is holding you back and move on with your life. Stop comparing yourself to others and what they have – comparison is a killer. Stop worrying so much and live! Get some counselling – and don’t say you already have the answers or know what to do, because if you did, you wouldn’t be feeling this way.

I told him that I am at my wits end and I cannot help him. I am not a counsellor. I am neither a psychiatrist nor a doctor. He needs to take action and go and get help.

He was up again this morning at 1:30 and 3:30. Wandering the house, making noise, flipping on lights. Sighing. Listening to music; playing his guitar.

I have had enough! I told him to go get help. I am not having this conversation anymore.

You cannot make anyone happy. You have to make yourself happy. End of story. No ifs, ands, buts or maybes. Happiness lies within yourself.

Tough Love. It’s a thing.

More Love. Less Hate.

As per my last post, I cannot understand why people need to hate one another.

What is wrong with humanity?

My heart aches to hear that so many people died senselessly. Why does this ever need to happen?

Simple answer: it doesn’t.

I feel fortunate to live in a country that allows me the freedom to express my opinion, but I know that it does not preclude me from being responsible for my words.

People are people. We are all human beings. We all bleed the same colour. It doesn’t matter what our skin colour is, who we love, or what we do.

We must unite together to stop this hate.

No one’s humanity should be diminished or held to account just because they think differently.

Attacks like the one in Orlando embody hate. WE MUST STOP THIS.

We have made great strides in acceptance. Let’s do more.

THIS MUST STOP

I have been reading the media reports on the Stanford Rapist. I say rapist, because that is what he is. He is many other things of course, but let’s call a spade a spade here.

I am sad, angry and disgusted at the sentence he’s received. It is unjust and unseemly. I felt like I wanted to throw up when I read it.

I was going to say nothing about this as I think it’s gotten too much media attention already; and the hate and vitriol that has been blasted all over the Internet and social media is enough to make one want to give up on humanity. I almost did, but I will not.

I cannot keep quiet about this. People’s voices must be heard who have experienced this trauma.

It is because of white, Anglo-Saxon privilege that men like this are getting away with abuse of many kinds. IT MUST STOP.

The more this is hidden, the more prevalent it has become – and will continue to be. This is more common than people think. It lurks in the back corners of family history, politics, entertainment, religion. THIS MUST STOP.

I have had enough of patriarchal oppression. I believe that is what has put me in this wet paper bag. I fight every day to get out of it – even though I don’t live it anymore. Now, I want to fight for everyone else who has to fight their way out of their own wet paper bag. I am here. I am with you. I am listening.

This shit is real people. Do not say or tell me that it is not.

Chances are we all know someone who has been violated in one form or another. One in three women will experience some form of abuse in their lives. One third. That number is too high for me. It should be too high for society as a whole to accept.

NO ONE asks to be assaulted or abused in any way shape or form. NO ONE EVER “asks for it.” EVER.

Being drunk is not an excuse. Being high is not an excuse. Being attracted to someone is not an excuse. Promiscuity is not an excuse. Being at a party is not an excuse. Being an athlete does not give anyone permission to violate another person’s body. Being rich does not allow anyone to take whatever they want. Neither does being poor.

We must all be taught to respect ourselves, our bodies and respect others. This must be taught early and continued to be taught throughout our lives.

RAPE MUST STOP.

I cannot stress enough that we must be more, do more and say more to stop this. IT MUST STOP. TODAY.

The last three years

I just read my last post. It was almost three years ago. Much has happened since then to me and my family.

We lost my mother-in-law in December of 2013 the day after Christmas. My husband and I have not moved to England as we had planned and intended. Recently, I also found out I may not be able to have Children - I am 40 and I am not ovulating.

We have been working through this and believe it or not, I have been pretty solid through it all. I've had to be.

I just wanted to say I'm back and I am ready to share again. I need to. I know there are many out there that need this and so here I am sharing with you. Hopefully it will do some good for someone other than myself.

I'm still here...

I realize I have no posted in over 21 months, but I feel it is time for me to fill this spot again. I know it may seem that I only come here to vent or post when I am troubled, and yes, that is true. However, it does help me to do so and in turn, I hope it helps you in reading this and that you may relate or get something that you can use in your life.

My husband was to go to university in England this month. He is not going because our financing plan fell through and we do not have enough in savings to make it through a year there even if he goes by himself for the first while. This has been stressful to him, and in turn, stressful for me.

I haven't had much panic - yet - but I am sure it will rear its ugly head at some point. I can say that the paper bag has taken on a new form of feeling: oppression. I feel oppressed by all this stress that is being directed at me. While I am sure it is not intended to be directed at me, I feel it nonetheless. I feel it everyday with the constant complaining, the freak outs, the anger, the sadness, the feelings of bereftness that my husband takes on. I try to be positive and indeed, I have been. But there is only so much a person can take. The paper bag is heavy on my shoulders and I do not wish to bear this burden any longer.

I have been thinking a lot lately. More than I usually do and for me, that is A LOT of thinking. I need to write as it helps me to sort through my thoughts and so here I am posting again after a long while. Through all of this, there is one thing that I am not happy with about myself: I have neglected myself - almost completely - and I am sorry for it. I think this is why I am feeling the way I am: oppressed, sad, wanting to run away from everyone and everything, dissatisfied with work and my relationships. I do not like to feel this way - AT ALL. But I guess we must all have the bad with the good as it does give us life experience.

I stayed home today as I had - and still have a little still - the worst tension headache I have ever had. I have taken over the amount of ibuprofen listed on the bottle for the last 24 hours and it has done little to cure me of my pain. I need to let go of whatever I have got hanging on to me and this paper bag is wetter and heavier than ever.

Expect more from me in the coming months. I need to work through these thoughts of mine and the thoughts I have now are radical and almost scare me.

Addiction to full flavoured beverages support group needed - stat!

Two years ago when my anxiety started up again (I’m a long time sufferer – a "lifer" if you will), I cut caffeine out of my diet. It was hard. I was ready to start a "Coffees Anonymous" support group. You have to understand I LOVE coffee. The smell, the taste, the oh so warm goodness as you hold the mug in your hands letting the vapours fill your nostrils. It like spooning in a mug. Oh yeah….

Well, think of having to give that up because it was affecting you in a negative way. So hard! I think I actually cried a few times when I first gave it up. Coffee truly is an addiction. I cannot describe it any other way. Tea just wasn’t cutting it for me. Don’t get me wrong, I really like tea as well. There’s nothing like a good cup of Earl Grey with a lemon wedge and honey. There’s a time and a place for tea and it includes little sandwiches and baked goods along with some good conversation (or maybe some snitching and bitching). But coffee? It’s like being deprived of what you most want in the universe if you don’t have it. I think now I can accurately understand what addicts go through in order to stay sober.

As I got to feeling better from my anxiety, I would have a cup now and then and make sure I had eaten just so the "jits" wouldn’t come. I did pretty well for awhile and slowly built up my tolerance to having a cup every morning. Funny what we tell ourselves what is ok just to fill a need.

But now that my anxiety is acting up again, and I’m thinking of giving coffee up in order to help control it. Pretty sad really. Especially since it doesn’t affect my husband and he makes it in the morning. Doubly hard when your work mates all go out for coffee at the 10am break and you either tag along and get a decaf or tea and they’re all enjoying their coffees.

If there's anything I've learned these last couple of years it's the paper bag can morph into other shapes. It’s a shape shifter. I’ve got to be vigilant! Be ready for the many disguises it takes in order to trick me into getting into it, and coffee (at least temporarily) is the paper bag in disguise. I’ve just got to manipulate it so that it’s less crafty at disguising itself like the Saint and more like Inspector Clouseau.

Hyperbole and a Half: Adventures in Depression

Hyperbole and a Half: Adventures in Depression

Thought I would share this post with everyone who reads my blog. It is really something that made me think.