Fighting Psychopaths

I have been fighting people who fit the profile of psychopaths and surviving the destruction they spread all the days of my life. 

It has been close contact conflict.

It was all done in the “First person”, one to one.

Not “those people over there” but rather “these people, here, in this room”.

At first it was one generation to the next, me being the child (with help from adults, this is not a solo venture).

Then it was a peer to peer relationship lasting 24 years.

I’m am tired, deep down to my bones weary tired.

However, I’ll keep going because self determination is the prize which I have won.
I am made for this and can go again right now, right from the beginning if I have to.  It holds no fear.
For the rest of my days I’ll keep plugging through because this is who I am.

Let’s take a moment to try and paint a picture:

Do you know how tiring it is when, for example, you watch over a bunch of hyperactive and disobedient children?

When you first take responsibility for the kids you try to be strict, No, Don’t do that, but all you get back is a heightening of the mania and they end up a spitting, thrashing and whirling dervish.

So then you develop coping strategies and mould their behaviour where possible and ignore the bits that are destructive but aren’t actually hurting someone.

That is the tiniest taste of what it is like to try to survive in a situation with a psychopath.

If a psychopath walked up to you for the first time and handed you a business card which said “Joe Bloggs, Psychopath at Large” you would say “Oh, that’s nice, Joe is it, let me show you the buffet table” and then you would dump them there and walk away with barely a glance backwards.

But they don’t hand out business cards.

Quite the opposite.

The clever ones are particularly deceptive.

Phase 1. 
The fun for a psychopath is in being charming, frequently they’re well-presented and handsome, they are attentive and they say they would move mountains. They often present themselves as a rescuer and when they are around, you feel like a million dollars. This phase can last for weeks or years.

Phase 2.

In subsequent encounters, probably over a time frame of years, they cannot hide their attempt to dominate the other person and erode their sense of self (schools for the kids, where to eat, placement of cushions, who can come in the house, when you can go out so it is convenient for them), bringing out the indignant rage, the sulking, their sense of entitlement, their contempt at any comparison to people who do not behave like that.

Phase 3.
Later, if the other party refuses to capitulate, things become physically dangerous rather than “just” emotionally dangerous.

Have you heard about how “their eyes changed” or “they’re a nut job when they get going”?  Yep, alarm bells and warning signs.

The daft thing, for all their charm, is that they don’t know that they are not particularly bright and that people, “normal” people do give and take in relationships so their attempt at dominance is ridiculous because love is there for the sharing, not the taking.  They don’t feel love like civilians do, they feel dominant, superior, all powerful.  Love is not in the equation.  Sure, they’ll say the words to woo someone back, but the feeling is not there.  And no, their emotional bullying is not passion, it is emotional bullying.

The fastest way to make a psychopath leave you alone is to walk away.  Out of sight, pretty much out of mind after a while. 

Don’t get in to the mind games, don’t think this is some Teen-Lit and angst filled novel, don’t try to fix them because even their parents didn’t succeed, don’t buy in to their “my girlfriend left me, woe is me” schpeil because the girlfriend left for a reason.

Repeat to yourself

“I am a drama free zone, I am worthy of genuine love, I have myself and my friends, I don’t need validation, I validate myself, it is never too early and almost never too late to walk away” and then do just that.

Making plans for when it's over *Cough-Divorce-Cough*

Within the next few weeks, my email inbox will revert to receiving only notes from friends, bills, reminders to buy TV licences, and money off vouchers.

I’ll cease having to host and give space to the vast amounts of divorce paperwork.

I can hardly believe that the end is kind of in sight, especially if I stand on a step ladder and use binoculars.

It’s still going to take some time, I’m patient, but we cannot but help have answers very soon.

 

I’m not sure what I’ll do with all the spare email capacity and in my mind’s eye I perceive it like the electricity surge after the Super Bowl games (you know about that, right, where the utility companies have to be on alert during the adverts and at the conclusion because demand on the grid spikes)

I’m not sure what I’ll do with all the freed up time and all the intellectual capacity made available.

However, I’m sure looking forward to finding out.

Acts of Random Kindness

Last night I came home after a long and hard day at work.


On the table, collected from the doorstep by the child, was a lovely gift bag containing a pot plant of daisy type flowers.


Through the letterbox was an envelope with my name on it.


In the envelope was no card or identifier, but a cash gift in £'s (I'm English, we use real pounds).


So, if you are reading this, that was very sweet and lovely, thank you.  You are far too kind.


The plant is now pride of place in our living room, it is the only living non-human thing in our home so makes a bright difference.


Whoever you are, consider this a thank you hug. x




Picture is Morgan Freeman with a quote from the movie Evan Almighty.

Justify yourself.

This blog post is a hard one to share, and at time of composing I haven't yet decided if I will hit the button to put these thoughts out to the wider world.


I am struggling with the constant requirement to justify myself, to prove myself, to defend myself.  There are few areas of life where I am free from the request to justify myself. 


For clarity, I'm up for the task and am very clear on who I am and what I stand for.  I am talented and have grit to spare.


It just annoys the sunshine out of me and detracts from the things we have going on right now.  It costs me emotional and physical energy which could happily have been put to better use elsewhere.


When somebody says "justify yourself" with a negative connotation, I get to look back and remember all the hard work that got us to this point but in doing so I recall disappointments or disappointing people, and explain how I turned that situation around for the greater good and how through tenacity and determination I decided to shape a great life from a difficult one.


For the mean time, I'll set my stance and greet the day with a smile... it's only for a short while that I have to endure these requests.


What makes it easier is being a truth-holder.  I don't have to remember what I said about something, I just have to remember the something.


I am learning to wait well. 
Impatience has no positive place in this endeavour and I could go again, starting from the beginning, up the same hill, under the same conditions as many times as is necessary in order to succeed in continuing to design and create a pretty great life. 


In justifying myself, justice will prevail.

Being in the Photograph.

A tremendously good friend forwarded me some photos she snapped of a group of us girlfriends at the beach a couple of years ago. We live in different cities far from the coast and had all travelled in for the weekend.  The photos were a lovely surprise and a welcome gift.  I think it was a late September day in the UK which should have been wet and dreary but we caught a heatwave bubble and basked in glorious weather.  We almost had the beach to ourselves, our favourite seals popped their head up out of the water to say hi again, we had beach chairs and beach blankets, full tummies from breakfast and it was our final day at the coast.


Now, on first glance I look like a person who perhaps would or should have body issues.  I'm a little more round than tall although great boobies help me carry off an hourglass-ish look!  I have a little more latitude than longitude.  My face is quite round.  Without makeup - which I hardly ever wear - I look a little lived in... happy but lived in.  I am not particularly photogenic at all.


BUT... here's the important bit... I LOVE THE PHOTO'S.


They capture a group of friends all relaxed in each others company, laid out on the sand, laughing, making sand castles, spending time, reading books, resting before returning home later that same day to demanding families and demanding jobs in demanding cities.  There had been a couple of differences of opinion that weekend, that's what you get when you have 7 independent and strong willed women together.  The photos captured how much it was important to us all that we were still all together the morning after the disagreement.  It was perfect in it's imperfection, to me, at least.


What was photogenic is the love we have for each other.
Even when the object of the image is blinking in the photo (me) or is in repose in a chair in a not very flattering fashion, or when we've got our hair in an informal bun with no loose bits for framing the face, and no make up and so forth, the love we have for each other is clearly present.


I used to shy away from photos but nowadays for the most part I welcome them and it is all because I read a story of a lady reminiscing about her life.


The lady had said that she wished she'd been in the pictures, that she'd captured the moments of her husband and children but that she wished she had something to look back on in photographic form to capture the moments that she was in the image with them, that they'd shared it all together.


So, when someone points a camera in my direction nowadays I think to myself


"This is who I am, this body is kind to me, it nurtures and sustains me with good health, stamina and ability, and in 20 years time I'll wish I had this picture, scraggly hair day and all, and in 20 years time I'll wish I looked as good then as I do now, so take the picture and make sure I get a copy!"


Dear friends, please be in the picture. 


Let people capture the wonderful moments and the moments which turned out to be wonderful after all.  The ordinary times together are valuable.  Be glad you have a body, be glad of it's strength, be happy in the opportunities to share memories with great companions.  Don't pose, live a life of poise.  There's a lot of happy to be had. 

Phone-less in a phone soaked world

Phone-less.
A brick of glass and plastic.
A low-resolution camera and phone book.
That's all this bit o'kit had been reduced to.


I'm in between contracts and a keep-my-number transfer which should have taken a couple of hours is currently running at 5 days.


I could get shirty with the folks on the helpline, but they were nice and that's not how I roll.


I could troll their Facebook pages stating how awful they were, but on the scale of awful, this doesn't even begin to measure.


Folks on the telephone were horrified that this thing had gone wrong but it wasn't their fault, it's just a thing gone wrong and which is rectifiable. 


I must admit to being a little "pully face-y" in a grimace because


a) the school always phone, all the time
b) the kid memorised the number
c) I drive a beautiful clunker of a car and have breakdown cover
d) safety and quick dials to the authorities
e) I like phones


so it's all a bit rubbish, but it is only a bit rubbish, it'll pass, it'll work itself out, it'll be fine.


So, I'll see you when we've no longer gone dark. 


If you need me, I'll be the one talking to people and reading a paper book and drawing with pencils and learning the guitar and cooking new recipes and so forth because there's nothing better to do.  Hard life, eh?

Friends, Buddies, the Squad, The Tribe.

The past 4 years have been a colossal change for me and my little family.
Some things are great,
Some things are still challenging and an ongoing project.
Some things are just life, like bills and taxes.


What has made the difference between existing vs. living is pretty simple.
a) steely determination
b) my people.


Now when everything surprisingly and in catastrophic fashion hit the fan one Sunday evening, within 2 hours when the environment was made safer I texted my girls, my squad, just saying something like:
"I really need some love and support, I think my marriage just ended".


Not prone to any form of melodrama, they knew immediately that it was serious and they were as shocked as I, and were as supportive as any person in the history of humanity. 
I've never known better people. 
My heart sings at the thought of them, they're magnificent.


We were offered safe places to sleep (which I should have taken but was in too much shock), we were told we were believed, and we were told we were loved, and we were trusted to take the next steps - whatever they ended up being - they trusted in my ability when I didn't know if I did anymore.


I think in pictures then translate to words in order to communicate.
When I think of my people, my tribe, I get a picture of a cute little house and a white picket fence with a sturdy gate.  Then there is a second perimeter picket fence and a third.  My buddies are in the picture as walking straight through the outer, middle and inner gates.  They have permission to come and go, my house is their house, their hopes and dreams are my hopes and dreams for them.  Strangers and baddies are outside the outer perimeter, various levels of acquaintances are within the other gates.


Over the last 4 years it has gotten to the point where we need a bigger mental first garden, there are so many great and wonderful people in our lives.  The image that comes forth is of a garden party with pitchers of cool drinks and pretty chairs and blankets on the lush green grass.


But the image of the cute home is the grounding force, that is permanent, the fences move to accommodate new people but the house doesn't move, it represents known values, permanence, steely determination and grit.


You find your tribe through shared values, living up to the declaration of who you say you are, and by being kind even when there are other options available, by being willing to learn and grow, by listening to your elders in experience and years, by acting on what needs to be done, and sometimes people join you in those possibilities.


There is no space for wishy washy engagement here, time is short, life is urgent, it can be taken away and with that knowledge in the first person all the other priorities fall into place. 


If you are contented, be contented.  If you are upset, tell a friend, they can listen.  If you are pensive, excited, overjoyed... be those things, sometimes two or three of those things at once!  It gives other people permission to experience their life too.  It's awesome and contagious.


Some days have been ugly, authentic, raw and unfiltered.  A couple of people have sometimes been around when those days occurred but mostly it is a retreat to the house and wait for it to pass experience for me.  So, sorry to those people who were around when I couldn't filter the feelings for polite company anymore... I'll try and learn from those times. Or maybe, next time I won't try to spare you from it.  Let me know your preference on a self addressed envelope and I'll get to it.


Be willing to go it alone and be willing to accept company if others are headed in the same direction.


In advance of 2nd International Platitude Day, we only get 72 goes around the sun if we are lucky... if you are going to waste a day, realllly waste it.  Do it justice.  If you are facing something unpalatable, face it, get it done, endure it, grow and develop.  This too shall pass.  And look sideways sometimes to see and recognise who is at your shoulder, sustaining and supporting you.  It may be surprising who you find there. If they look sideways, do they see you?  Are you sustaining and supporting them too?  I think you are. 

Mouse Click Theory

I have a theory that in a given week we are gifted with a certain allocation of mouse clicks. 

If we are storming through our allotted tasks like a demon in days Monday-Thursday we use up most of those clicks.

Come Friday we are left feeling sluggish and as though we are running through treacle.

At which point we now feel the need to tell everyone around us that we are "feeling it", that we have run out of oomphf but are going to battle through anyway.

The theory of the mouse clicks answers so many oddities in my life. 

It lends my thoughts to effort and resilience.

It reminds me that stamina is required to complete tasks.

It reminds me that if "I'm feeling it" then frequently the end is in sight and I just have to push through.

It's quite a comfort in a back to front "at least I know what's going on" kind of way.

Honesty and The Landmark Forum

I grimaced today as I provided information requested by the court on a personal matter.

I didn’t want to be seen as “that awful woman” or selfish.

I wanted to people-please and make everyone like me by being overly generous.

But I checked myself, and recognised what was happening, reviewed whether being overly generous would be truthful and came to a decision.

I decided to stick with honesty and modest figures when assessing another person’s need and requirement.

It hurt, it made me anxious, I didn’t want people to hate me.

I did it anyway, hit send and I grimaced.

 

A few minutes later I received a correspondence back, so I breathed a little and opened the email.

I expected to be criticized but instead read from my solicitor….

 

“Thank you, Cheryl.  That’s perfect.”

 

There’s a lesson there somewhere.

Next time I’ll try to remember that as long as I am trying to review facts, stick to “what happened” and not “what did I make that mean?” (Thank you, Landmark Forum, from an alumni class of ’98 student) (http://www.landmarkworldwide.com)

and was willing to stand and say “yes, this is my honest assessment of the situation”, it is possible that things will not be as fraught as I had feared them to be.

 

 

We bought a trumpet

My daughter is a polymath, someone who picks up skills pretty easily for the most part and is pretty great at most subjects but not outstandingly brilliant at one or another by comparison, it frustrates her like crazy.


So, we were enjoying the Sleepless in Seattle soundtrack in the car on the way to Church on Sunday and the song "Kiss to build a dream on" by Louis Armstrong came on with its crisp and clear brass solo toward the end...


The conversation went something like;


"I haven't heard this song in years, since I was about 8 years old!  Oh I love this song"
"Really?"
"Yep, and this sounds like a great wedding tune for a first dance"
"I was just thinking exactly the same thing!"
"I'd love to play the trumpet"
"Would you like me to pick one up for you?"
"Oh my gosh that'd be amazing, yes please, I want to be able to play 7 instruments by the end of the year"
"Ok, I'll have a look online and see what I can do".


Fast forward to today, one cheap n cheerful trumpet procured for delivery this week.


Why?!  Why do I offer these things? 


If you need me at any time in the next year, tap me on the shoulder to gain my attention.  These bad boys are going to be my best friends for the foreseeable future.
 

Stress and a Parent's Evening.

I’ve been feeling a little stressed on and off recently, nothing too bad, just enough to remind me that I’m alive and I have to work hard at simplifying life and not sweating the small stuff.

But then I went to Missy’s parents evening at school.

She’s in a good school, great school actually, phenomenal even.

They teach to a high standard, they expect a great deal from all their students, and they provide a safe environment for the children to become adults.

The children still have challenges and have to negotiate the social structure, but it is not brutal like many other establishments and the spats are quickly over.

They nurture when necessary, and get super strict when that’s required too.

They took her in when she’d had challenges elsewhere, and they didn’t give up on her when she demonstrated her “less than mainstream” view of the world.

When you are a mum to a headstrong teen and you ask them about their day, you get to hear about how much fun they had at lunch and how they’re “failing every class, ugh, I don’t even know why I bother”.

And you worry.

You prod them to get them to school on time, with the right kit and the right attitude, and the right homework, but you worry a little.

Then they have a temper a few times to get you to try and give up on them, which for 10 minutes after the fact you want to capitulate but then you dust yourself off and go at this parenting lark again.

Missy’s tempers are a sight to behold. 

In a temper she’s fierce, intense, articulate and she’s tall, and she is immovable and imposing, and bristly, and it can – for a lesser mortal than I – be a scary sight to behold.

What people see is frightening, but the reality of the situation is that she is in a heated moment, trying to communicate a distress at an injustice.

She’s just so tall and imposing that even though she is still, she’s often considered to be a worry.

So, parents evening.

You sit in front of 9 of their teachers for the exam courses they’re studying.

And the teachers ask the child to tell them how she thinks she’s doing.

And they listen and then tell her the good things.

They remind her and tell me about the good grades.

The tell me about the great behaviour and attitude she’s exhibiting (whooohooooo!  She’s a hard kid to raise).

And they set goals and tell get her to buy in to the strategy that will take her where she is from to where she could be.

 

To hear that her teachers are very fond of her, that they appreciate what a great kid she is, that they’re pushing her as they should, and that they are affirming she should enter law school or med school or enter the International Economics arena when she graduates is music to my ears, and to her ears too.

“You are a strong woman, Missy, and you are going to go far, you just need to get organised and here is how you do that….”

“You have a vast body of knowledge and you apply it well which is a delight in the class and increases your grades”.

“You managed yourself very well when you were feeling stressed today in class, next time could you…..”

“You have to hand in your homework even if you feel it could have been better, to give you a mark, we have to see it…”

One teacher caught me by the arm after Missy walked out to the corridor between appointments and asked

“Is she as intense at home? Wow, my hat goes off to you, you manage so well and you are doing phenomenally.  We really appreciate everything you have done to bring her to this point, she’s amazing and we can see her growth.  You are a powerful parent to her and she is blessed because of it”.

 

And all of a sudden, I was a little less stressed, and I could concentrate on the things which needed my attention.

 

I can feel it lifting -

A couple of months ago I wrote about now sometimes I can feel an episode of feeling blue roll in right here...
http://rightsizeglass.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/depression-minor-head-cold-sometimes-flu.html
and over the past few days I felt an episode of wobbly emotional health start to envelop me again - boooooo hisssssssss - *throws popcorn at the screen*

But!!!!!!!!!  But, I have amazing resilience, phenomenal powers of analysis and deduction, and beautiful friends.

The resilience has be honed over what feels like millennia, I've been here before and got out of it, I can do it again.

The powers of analysis have been honed over decades, why am I feeling this way? What triggered it? Is there something hiding behind what looks like the trigger?  Is the trigger based in reality or am I worried about things which may not even come to pass?  What do I have control over and what do I have to relinquish?  What can I do?  Have I eaten?  Have I eaten something with vitamins?  Am I tired?  Have I been outside today?

And the beautiful friends have been gathered over a lifetime, some more recently than others but equally valuable and loved.  They said "You've got this, we love you, breathe, did you eat? Do you know we love you?  Do you know that you are totally kicking this things backside? Can you see yourself how we see you?  You have got this, it'll be great, it's going to be amazing, buckle in for the ride, enjoy it and breathe".

Now, I ask you, who among us could not see the joy and blessings in their life with experience and talents and friends like that? Who?

Poxy brain flu !

Things for which I know I will soon be grateful, when the brain fog lifts:

work
kiddo
friends
close family
an ugly car that runs
house
endurance
choices
faith in the future
contentment in the present
the rule of law
neighbours
post
laughter
bad jokes
gerberas

For a tough broad I cry too much.

I consider myself to be a rufty-tufty kind of woman, one who can adapt to changes and roll with whatever is happening.  I consider myself tough, although "rufty-tufty" might belie that a little.  I consider myself to be empathetic, pragmatic, competent, emotionally independent with a little help, grateful for my friends, humorous and I mostly enjoy life regardless of some of the challenges that living in this time and this place presents to us.



But I cry, often. Not pretty, dab at the corner of the eye tears. 
We are talking about ugly tears, unpretty, undignified tears and a Rudolph red nose and quite frankly it is a tad embarrassing. I can feel it about to happen, my heart/emotions will be nudged, my eyes will prickle and my throat closes and I think "oh no, not again, not here, oh... there we go" and nothing I have thought of can retrieve the situation once the process has started.



I cry at photo's in the newspaper, there was a photo of a old, grey haired firefighter with his face contorted and crying at a 9/11 memorial and I totally lost the plot because I felt of his grief.
I cry at a fragment in a song, when it suddenly echoes my hopes or trials for a fraction of a minute.
I cry at a hope of something in the future, mostly to do with hopes for my child.
I cry at TV shows or news reports sometimes, not at the blatant "send us your money" reports, but sometimes at the response of a nearby person who intervened to make something better.
I cry at the Humans Of New York series, particularly the teachers who are making a difference.
I cry at TED talks, mostly the school principals who announce on the PA "if nobody told you today that you are loved, we love you".
I cry in disappointment.
I cry, and pretty much lose the plot, when I hear kids singing in Church.
I cry at the idea of crying.

It wasn't always this way, I had it under control for years and was able to function without this embarrassing affliction. But, I was numb, stoic, trying to keep it all together and I don't know which way of being I prefer, then or now.

I am mainstream, not a new age hippy, and the word "feelings" to me is quite a bit of a swear word and a cop out.  Yet it "feels" like I am feeling too much.  Sundays are my worst day - when I step in the chapel during particularly trying times it feels like the only place in the world where I don't have to emotionally fight.  Sometimes the tears there are because I received a longed for answer or because I get the sense of eternal allies for the briefest of moments and I don't feel alone for that moment.

I am hoping that this intensity will calm down after a period and that I'll learn and adjust to feeling these emotions.  It's a little like taking the perforated lid off of a microwavable meal when it has just dinged, that first blast of steam that risks the old fingers for a moment.  I am hoping that admitting I have a problem might be the first step in overcoming this affliction.  Here's to hoping, eh.

Net Worth and Perspective

Have you ever been down to your last £2.76 in the bank?

Yeah, no, me neither.

If it were me, I’d be grateful that

• we have enough simple food storage to see us to payday.
• the bills are covered completely.
• it is +£2.76 and not -£2.76.
• there’s a couple of quid in the purse.
• the car has a full tank of petrol.
• the laundry is done because we’ve just run out of laundry detergent.
• the knowledge that this is temporary.
• the belief that net worth does not define my value as a person.
• the belief this is all for the greater good while we fight the good fight.
• the knowledge that things are this way because of what we are building.
• that in years to come we’d have some great stories and perspective.
• that our head is above water because you swim so damn good.
• that hopefully things will never be this lean again.
• that we still have a "laugh at the Universe" attitude. So what you're skint, so what!

You know, if it were me, which it isn’t.

 

Bucket full of frogs day

In order to apply for an exemption to something big and icky and related to "the incident" and to move swiftly on to the next step, I have to prove that I am or have been at risk, and provide the paperwork accordingly.


Most peril or risk conversations with authorities happen face to face or over the phone.  They don't follow up with a nice letter detailing the conversation because people at risk don't need the "risk-er" going through their post and messages and finding that stuff, and the "risk-ee" opts out of things dropping on their doormat.


BUT, they didn't figure on the new filing system in the new filing cabinet!  HA HAAA!


I have to hand papers and a certificate from The Freedom Programme (http://www.freedomprogramme.co.uk/online.php) and a MARAC report.


There's an old saying that if you have to kiss a bucket full of frogs, start with the biggest and ugliest one first and get it over with.


So today, I snogged a toad, full on the lips, great big snoggy smooch as I walked to the cabinet, removed the binder with these pieces of information, scanned copies and sent them to the person that needs them.


No mess, no fuss, just juice.


I want get angry at the Yang part of the universe as I scream "take that, you snog frog demanding pig head" but no need.


It's done, we'll find out if it's enough in due course. 


The amazing lack of angst over finding the pieces of paper I needed is astonishing and after I close this message today I will just be able to get on with the task at hand.  So There!  Take that, bad side of the Universe, you didn't get me today.  Ya Snooze Ya Loose, Sukerz!  (Yes, I know, a very grown up response, aren't you proud of the progress I'm making?)

Today I put down roots, which is a good thing.

Today I put down roots and bought a filing cabinet.

A cute thing, adorable in fact, which locks and it petite and fits in the space I have in mind.

Isn't it preeeettttyyyyyy.

 

We move house every couple of years and furniture is so heavy.

Today I realised I hire people to move house for me.

My mind moved from fear about having to do it myself again, to comfort that it’s ok and I don’t have to anymore.

 

I’ve been avoiding buying this filing cabinet for 13 years because I genuinely have a personal paperwork phobia.

Business paperwork is easy peasy and an absolute pleasure.  Weird, eh.

 

Historically my paperwork system was a mess, all over the house in every drawer and box.  I had no system, I had no peace of mind on the subject, needing to find something was a mammoth task.  In recent years I’ve been using a holdall as a filing cabinet, a really big holdall, because it is squishy and on wheels so is portable.  I have whittled down the process of moving correspondence from the letterbox to “the system”.

 

All bills are scheduled immediately and filed away, the things that I can’t face go in to the box, which is then hidden in the cabinet, which is behind the sofa, and things I really can’t face, which are scary, go behind the mirror for a couple of days until I pluck up the courage to face the contents, normally after letting out some kind of primeval yell about how unfair everything is.

 

But today I said to myself, “I don’t move myself anymore, the movers move me and they are strong, so they won’t mind moving a filing cabinet, so decision made”.

 

The duffle bag has been a faithful friend, loyal, on hand, quite organised, but I can do better, and from this Saturday, I shall.

 

Good enough

Things work out, boilers get kinda fixed (if you don't count the worsening leak the plumber created - at least we have heat), children dry and put away the dishes eventually like they're supposed to, laundry ends up back in the wardrobe in a wearable condition, work (knock on wood) goes fine, kids will wake sufficiently to make it to the car in time for Seminary, feelings mend, life moves on - slowly at first but then you notice that nothing has changed yet everything is different.
So even on the black dog days, and offsetting the risk of another zombie apocalypse passing through town, and if all the cards stay where they fell for a while, you can hope for a pretty good today and an even better tomorrow.
It's not the end yet, and it may be some time arriving but often times, good enough is good enough.

Ingratitude vs. Just Not Knowing

Sometimes people tell you your faults.

Sometimes they get on such a roll that they have to stop to catch their breath before they can start again like a sprinter getting a pain in their side and holding on to a lamp post to catch their breath and stretch it out before starting again.

Sometimes what they have to say, although harsh, may be rooted in a trace of truth.  But it’s the kind of truth where someone takes a good thing, puts it through the wringer, jumps up and down on it for a while, drags it through the mud and then presents it back to you as a truth.  There’s a trace of the original there but it has become twisted and tainted.

Sometimes, because there was a trace of truth, it stings.

Sometimes it’s just vicious.

Someone took it upon themselves yesterday to tell me as many of my faults as they could squeeze in within a two minute window.

It was only my love for the person that stopped me yelling “Hold My Hoops” as I metaphorically took out my earrings.

There’s only a handful of folks who qualify for me biting my tongue. 

The viciousness of it was the surprise.

We’ve had words since, and it is resolved.

The bit that got me thinking was when they told me in no uncertain terms that I’m “stuck at my level in business because I am stupid and surely my bosses have to put up with my stupid behaviour and treating people like idiots”.

I’m not stuck at my level at work.

I’m rewarded handsomely for my labour.

I declined an opportunity in an adjacent industry recently because although it was significant pay rise, great prospects, opportunities for advancement, company cars and kudos, it would take me away from the time I needed to raise my family, to be on hand, to do what was necessary.  

I chose family.

One of the hardest parts of filling the role of Mother and Father, nurturer and provider, is that something has to give.

My personal sense of fulfilment was set aside in favour of the needs of someone else, and that was a hateful position in which to be placed.

Two conflicting demands, to provide and to nurture, were competing for dominance and I had to choose.  So I did.

So while this person was yelling at me, I had to keep in mind they only had their side of the story, their perspective. 

I still want to tell them all of their faults, and like them I’d be holding on to a lamp post to catch my breath, but that is not the right way nor an effective way to proceed.

Ezra Taft Benson said something like “words are like a kite with the string cut mid-flight, they cannot be taken back”. 

I don’t know that I’d have the wherewithal to refrain from retaliation again.

I strongly dislike having to behave like a dignified adult.

I much prefer the shouty, air all your grievances, get it all out in the open, sunlight is nature’s disinfectant approach but it doesn’t fit with where I live nowadays but internally The Essex Will Out. 

So today, I am tired.  Being dignified takes a toll.  Someone fetch me a desk-pillow please.

Endurance: what a swizz.

Sometimes there are big decisions to make which keep us up at night.
Sometimes we have to work through big feelings or obstacles.
Sometimes things are ok and bob along nicely.


This whole "endure to the end" thing is a total swizz.
Sometimes it's quite an ask.


But using some form of mindfulness you carve some peace out of the chaos.
You create a haven in your soul.


Do you know what you find in that haven?
All the kindnesses you've received.
All the times you made it.
All the times you were ok to be authentically present, joy and sorrow and all.
All the times you didn't screw up.
All the times that people said "hey, I noticed you didn't screw up, good job!"
All the times that you were enough.
All the times it worked out ok.


No sorrow is found in the haven other than any upset that you want to bring there for safety.


Then you have to step out of the haven to deal with the on-going onslaught of life but you know that you have a well of ok-ness that nobody can spoil and which you can step in to for a few seconds as need arises.


Sometimes I forget there is a haven but I found it again today.


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