#shithappens – you cannot avoid it but you can learn how to deal with it – On this site and in my blogs I share my own personal journey, to highlight that people are not on their own in this journey we call life! #WARNING CONTAINS OFFENSIVE LANGUAGE
Its been a good weekend so far, despite still feeling a little under the weather, I have made sure I have put myself first. I have indulged in some quality time with the grandson, making memories. I have written a fair bit in the book, reflecting on times in my past that I would rather forget, BUT and here is the BUT, I can honestly say had I not gone through that pain, misery I wouldn’t be who I am today, so rather than be morbid or mope about the house, I chose to recall the moments I overcame, the courage I found when I thought none existed and remind myself, I haven’t been perfect, I haven’t made the best life decisions and that’s ok because none of us are perfect and actually owning our imperfections can actually serve to make us wiser and a more humble version of ourselves.
None of us will ever, ever be perfect 100% of the time, it’s physically impossible.
We have all at times in our lives achieved some personal greatness, overcome some emotional feets, gotten over a relationship that we thought we never could, achieved great things in work, that we thought we might never achieve, whatever it is that you have fought hard to overcome, whatever challenge, after all the pain you had to endure to overcome that challenge, you survived, you overcame. You should never forget those memories, now I am not saying you should relive them every day, fuck me we would get anything done, but they can serve as a reminder and help shape who you can be going forward.
These challenges left us feeling good about ourselves, raised our self-esteem, helped change how we see ourselves, helped change how we feel about ourselves, helped inform future decisions moving forward.
I have many, many memories of being hurt, but also have the memories of overcoming and moving on and getting on with my life. I don’t have a plan, I don’t have any great aspirations, all I want from life is to make through each day, being the best I can, doing the best for me, to do the best for those I love around me, to do the best for strangers in need who I may never even meet.
I don’t care about all the materialistic shit, after all, an inanimate object cannot make me love myself or like myself more, the only thing that can truly do that for me is me.
Whatever you are doing today, please try to be kind to yourself, give yourself a break, do something for you or what you want to do. For me, I will be cranking up the music and cleaning this lovely but messy house.
I’m not going to lie, these dark nights and dark mornings have been fucking with my mojo of late. Waking to sunlight, put a spring in my step, but during the winter, it can be like someone has nicked the step and I wake up feeling like I have fell flat on my face.
I long for Spring, summer to come back around again, that natural sunlight that helps make you feel alive and want to jump outta bed in a morning and go for a run in the peace and quiet. BUT, its winter now, the dark early mornings are not going anywhere soon, the thought of running in the dark is not appealing, it also doesn’t feel that safe either, so I can either carry on moaning about it or shut the fuck up moaning and deal with it.
I find great solace in writing, I cannot believe it has taken me nearly 48 years to realize it, It’s meditative and brings me a joy. My inability of late to get up early has impacted on the quality time I make for myself, which is and has been vital of late for my self-esteem.
So to counteract the dark mornings I purchased one of those’Wake up light’s’ they start to glow slowly half an hour before you wake, mimicking the sunrise. Now I’m not convinced it’s going to work yet? yes, it is nice to wake up to a nice soft light in your room opposed to the pitch black, I have even got birds tweeting for the alarm, though I am still having to set the phone alarm ‘just in case’. The birds are not real, they sound tinny, empty, shallow, FAKE, but its better than being woken half to bleeding death, in the pitch black.
And when I left my room and went downstairs to make a coffee, the reality was it was still pitch black, it still feels like I should be crawling back into bed until the real sunrise starts making an appearance. last night I had all good intentions of putting the washing out this morning, but I chose to put it in the dryer, why? mainly because what fruitcake puts washing out on a line in the pitch black? AND I would be hard pressed finding the bleeding washing line!
There are some people who equate bad days as being some sort of failure. Or who measure their happiness based on feelings, which is ok, but you have to recognize unless you live in a bubble, the likely hood IS that some days aren’t going to be as good as others, some are going to be darker than others.
That’s fucking life, #shithappens life ain’t a bed of fucking roses, in fact, I’d prefer not sleeping in a bed of roses, I’d be too worried about the pricks! Seasons come and go, light always follows dark, its life!
I spoke to me mate Shauna, who messaged me after yesterdays blog and she shared a quote she had seen on an expat website, it read “the grass may seem greener on the other side but before you take that leap, make sure you can water it”. I don’t know who wrote it, but it is bleeding genius! She lives mostly all year in the sun, but that doesn’t mean she’s happy 100% of the time. (sorry Shauna)
I am trying to work on the principle that worrying or moaning too much about what’s not going right only causes more stress.YES, I could think, daydream about the summer mornings, sit morning memories of summer, but it doesn’t matter what day of the year it is #shitstillhappens you still gotta take ya self out of the equation step back #Haveawordwitheesen and see things for what they really are and let the shit go, release it, it ain’t helping by holding onto it?
I sometimes feel uncomfortable telling people I’m not ok, so when I share, bare myself on here, trust me when I say that when I press that send button, sometimes I can get anxious. It is always there in the back of my mind, that someone will be wondering, “is she ok?” Or “what is she NOT saying? ” or read too much into the post, or search for unwritten words behind them. I’m just letting you in on one of me #havingawordwimesen sessions.
I am simply just saying how it is for me! There are no hidden meanings, I’m just saying what I think, because I can, because I want to, because I think that honesty is always the BEST policy, I always have. Though I realize it’s not that easy in practice I get that! But I am also working on it, being honest with myself, is hard, but it is also very rewarding. So I am just practicing on getting it out there, off my chest, that’s all.
Today, for example, I know already that I have a lot of work to get through, I have got to have a conversation with someone who I quite frankly think is a DICKHEAD, with a capital D, but guess what? “that’s what I am paid to do”it’s my job andthat said DICKHEAD is just that, its not like I’m being asked to sleep with him, I am just being asked to work with him, alongside him.
Whilst I come across the most amazing people on a day to day basis, I still have to deal with Fuckwits, Dickheads, people who don’t care as much as I do, people with no passion for the job, just the wage and GUESS what that’s ok, that’s what we call life!
The season may change, but life is still the same
Alas, it’s light, I’d better get my sorry ass into work and prepare myself for dealing with the DICKHEAD
I have invested in one of those alarm clocks that apparently slowing wake you up, mimicking the morning by bringing half an hours fake sunlight into the room before the alarm pipes up. My rationale is, that this time, 3 months ago, during the summer months, this time in the morning (7.20am) I would have already been out, done a 2 mile run, stretched whilst chilling with a coffee, feeling energised, positive, contemplating the day ahead #havingawordwimesen and getting ready for whatever work shit had ready to throw at me.
Just recently though, I have been quite the opposite. I just constantly want to sleep, “The bed slug is back” I can hear our old man say!I have literally zero capacity for any bullshit, and my head, my brain feels like I am permanently hungover, which would be ok, if I had been drinking. People have said “slow down” but to be honest, if I slowed down any more I would fucking stop. So after being concerned for a while, I took the decision to go to the doctors yesterday. Not sure where to start, I was hoping that he would give me some magic beans to take away that would transform this shell back to the dynamo battery I felt I was three months ago, but I know deep down that this is unrealistic and get rid of any expectations before I walk onto the doctors room.
I try to log into the system a keypad, which tells the receptionist that you have arrived, but it doesn’t work! GREAT, which means I have got to press the magic bell to tell someone behind the screen that I am there. I waited a while before pressing the demon bell, hoping that one of the staff will see me stood there. I hate having to press the bell, it makes me feel like I am being impatient and demanding when I know that they are busy, but it would seem like I was wearing my invisible cloak that day because despite seeing me, looking straight through me, no fucker came. I stand there and look around me, people are sat in the room, giving sympathetic smiles, smiles that are saying to me “I know they are crap aren’t they”.After what seemed an eternity, I am reduced to hitting the bell, a receptionist arrives, but cannot log me on, because the doctor is already looking at my notes, I’m actually impressed, he’s doing his research before the next hypochondriac walks into the room.
He was a lovely guy, not one of the regular docs, a trainee, I sigh, assuming that this appointment is going to be like trying to talk to my 1-year-old grandson, but I quickly #haveawordwimesen and remind myself to “stop being a judgmental twat”.I am gestured to a seat and the young doctor asks me “what’s up”. I don’t know where to start, but I start by saying, this time a few months ago, I was a different person, full of beans, full of energy, I was focused, positivity came naturally, but over recent weeks I feel like its an effort to even fucking wake up in a morning, I cannot think straight sometimes, my head feels like its full of fog, sometimes I am focused other times I cannot even think straight. There have been times when I have been out walking and had to stop to balance myself because I am having a light-headed moment. I was like this a few months ago, well a little worse, I had to take two weeks off sick, I even had to get a sick note, something I forgot even existed. They said it was likely a viral infection and just required some rest. So I rested, I rested some more, and after two days back at work, I felt back to my usual chirpy, sarcastic self.
I’m not upset, I’m not angry, nothing bad has happened, basically “I don’t think I’m depressed” I mean I am already on 40 ml of Prozac a day for the dreaded PMT, so I shouldn’t be depressed, should I?
He takes my obs, everything is ok, there’s no temperature, my glands are ok, the blood pressures fine, so he suggests some blood test. Happy with that,So I’m ok, I am just having a shit patch, which I know will go away soon, I just need to work on my patience, carry on, as usual, look after myself, drink plenty of water, eat well and operate at a slower pace.
My new alarm this morning is a single bird chirping to its sen, which is ok I suppose.
Its day one, I was hoping to wake up with a renewed spring in my step, alas whilst I was up and out of me pit a lot sooner than of late, I still feel like death warmed up. But I am sat here coffee in hand, committing to writing, keeping my journal, offloading my shit, taking some time out, for me, because despite how crap I feel, making time for me is more important than ever and I remind myself, that I am still here, breathing, still able to physically function.
I am sharing this with you, on here, not for sympathy, please don’t ask if I am ok because I promise you I am. I’m sharing this because, its a reminder that life isn’t always fucking sunshine and flowers, sometimes life, your body can knock you off balance and that’s ok, that’s life, its ok to “not be ok”. But if you are in a bad place, or not feeling I always remind myself and say to my self
‘This too, will pass”
A proverb from the medieval Levent (Persian, Hebrew, and Turkey) around 1200AD. The proverb means that all material conditions, whether good or bad, are transient. This proverb has the ability to make the happy person sad and the sad person happy because of the realization that both the ‘best and worst of times’ will soon pass.
Right, I’m off to get me sorry ass ready to “Kick some ass” – well go to work, anyway whatever you are doing, look after yourself and your health, we only have one crack at this life, make every fucking second count and even if you feel crap, smile, even if you are faking it, sometimes you have got to “fake it to make it”
Working on being kind to myself of late, with what has been a very very busy last week, finding time for me hasnt been easy, but not impossible neither just a little harder. It is so much easier and feels nicer to be able to look back on postive memories and smile, but sometimes we are reminded of a past we would prefer to forget.
Sometimes, in fact most times if i’m not 100% life and soul of the party, bouncing around on postive energy then “something must be wrong with me?”
Negative memories of a past long gone, have returned churning thoughts and feelings I thought had been boxed away, buried, after all I’ve moved on, to to a very different place in my life, a better version of me, RIGHT? Don’t worry I’m absoloutly fine, but its just reminded me that your past is always going to there, it never truly goes away, hence why it is so important to acknowledge and work on accepting who you once were, without feeling you have to re-live it over and over again, every day that way when those memories do come back they dont stay around for long, because they no longer have purpose.
My memories for this past week, though have served a purpose, the past has actually helped with the writing, writing the book hence why i havent written on here of much of late.
There is something very special and powerful about being able to write everything down, being able to re-read thoughts, memories and see them for what they are….. Just memories.
“A true and accurate measurement of one’s self-worth is how people feel about the negative aspects of themselves.”(from “The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life” by Mark Manson)
He was supposed to be dead already and I never know when or even how he has come back to life again, in my dreams but he has. He’s never as bad before he died last time, which means this could go on for a while, before he deteriorates again.
This time dads living in the tower blocks on Norfolk Park, where he used to live when I was as teenager and where I lived for a short period of time, so I was familiar to the space, the flat that he once lived. His living room was sparse, just the basics, I don’t reacal seeing alcohol. But I knew my role there was to be his taxi and take him to the pub for the alcohol.
I was wondering how he was going to pay for the drinks, because remember feeling anxious that I didn’t have much money myself. But he is still looking smart, dad always looks smart, he’s pretty wobbly and unstable on his legs as he prepares himself for the walk to the car.
I know whats whats coming already, people staring making judgements “why is she taking him for a drink, when he clearly has had enough already?” , “he looks ill should he even be drinking?”
And its times like these that I’d love to whisk them into my shoes for a day, week or even a month to try and get them to understand and stop fucking judging me. I love for them to try and tell dad, that he shouldn’t be drinking, or suggesting he just drank a little less, or in this dream “dad, how come you are going out if you have no money?” But dad always had an answer, dad knew everyone and also knew that he would be drinking,”don’t you worry about that shug’s’, just get the car ready”
There was never no point arguing, it took too much effort, it was always easier to just go with it, after all it wouldn’t be long before he passed again and life would return back to normal “what ever the fuck that means” or for me until the next dream comes back. The dreams are always different, but always the same.
Somehow don’t ask me how, dad is back, he’s back in my dreams, he’s back from the dead, the sense of “him knowing what was good for him” was back. That gut feeling of despair is back, worrying about being judged and questioned by my family back home, who are frustrated at me for even giving dad the time of day. That feeling of not being able to walk away. these are the very same thoughts that I had, after three days of being by dads bedside, being there with him, when he took his last breath, which never came.
Then i woke up, but not before writing much much more for the book.
I have shared this as a reminder to others and myself, that memories, that the feelings associated from those very same memories, never go away, you just have to come to terms with them, learn to live with them and move on.
But they will always be there, well in my case, in my dreams #shithappens it’s how you deal with it that counts.
And before you start wondering “is Tracey ok?” yes I am, in fact I have never felt better, writing and sharing just a little bit of me helps. I class myself very lucky to have come through life to date and still be ok, some poor fucker is still dealing and living with this shit!
Well its International World Mental Health Day and I say lets have these days EVERY FUCKING day of the year. Now I’m all for raising awareness, today we will be bombarded with unheard stories from celebs or people who have struggled with their mental health, hoping to encourage people to come forward and seek support. But there is still a massive stigma around “not being ok” or “having a bad day”.
I do it and i’m sure you do, I see a obscure post on facebook, “I’m soooo fucking angry” never sharing the reason why, then a friend pops up, “whats up?” or “you ok?” then the reply is “i’ll in box ya”.
I’m of the opinion, that is you have a problem and you want to share it, say it, then SAY IT! because if you dont all you will be labled as is an “attention seeking twat” but isnt that being judgmental too? isn’t it just another way of telling someone, anyone “your not ok”. Sometime’s though mate dealing with ya problems on social media aint going to help.
How many times have you wanted to question something, say something but havent, fearing that what you might say will make you unpopular, I know I fucking have, and I know I will always live with that fear everytime i open me gob!
Alot of this can be attributed to the fact that we have soooo many messages thrown at us, every friggin minute, telling us whats socially acceptable or whats not. Alot of people have lost the ability to think for themselves. I get sooo frustrated when i seeing people buying into consumerism, materialism and moralistic consumerism, just accepting everything that they read or see is fact, chasing the fucking dream!, then getting pissed off because they chased it, invested in it and still didnt feel better!
And I get it, its easier to be like that, because if you did question something, you run the risk of being judged, laughed at, dis-regarded, dismissed or being “differant” And no fucker likes rejection do they?
But heres some facts
Rejection is all around us, we dont always get our own way, we can’t have everything that we want
We will never be able to educate fuckwits, we are surrounded by narcissist and there will always be people who have differant opinions than us.
We will always live with fear, its natural, its what makes us human, you cannot run away from it, because it lives in you.
We cannot change everything we dont like, but we can work on changing ourselves,
And another fact… We are all going to die, YES it comes to us all, now i dont know about you, but i’m going out on a bang,
I care enough about me, to not give a fuck about people who dont get me, as long as I GET ME, thats all that matters, you get one chance at life and I for one and going to make the fucking most of it and on MY terms.
After sharing about this blog and my writing and the reasons behind it, some one suggested to me “you have found god, you just don’t know it?”Now don’t get me wrong, faith is brilliant, if it brings people comfort, hope, love, compassion, I aint got no problem with that. I work along side some amazing christian’s and muslim’s who who do some incredible, amazing selfless work, giving back into their communities, and they do this voluntarily and in the name of their god. And thats brilliant, who could argue with that!
But I have also experianced and come across “people of faith” who are the bentist bastards I have ever met, and they got away with their bentness by hiding behind their faith or justifying their actions based on their faith.
Yes there have been times in my life, when i have wondered if there was a god, but I always come back to the same answer! Yeh Me sen
For me personally and based on my own personal experience, I kinda like to think and believe that I am where I am at now and who I am now has more to do with how i have adapted or reacted to circumstances in my life.
Like a small kid trying to touch fire without getting burned, being told “your gonna hurt yourself” Ignoring the advice, doing it, realising it fucking hurts, but then goes back for another go, hoping it wont hurt again.
Been there and done that a few times trust me.
One of the main lessons I have learned about myself and life in general is that learning to trust myself, learning to like me sen, learning to love me sen, sitting back and realising that if I want my life to change then there is only me that can do that, no fucker else can!
So the idea of handing over all the credit of where and who i am in myself, right now, today over to a guy who I have never met before, is defiantly not appealing.
Life can be shit, is shit, #shithappens all the fucking time – and I have remind myself to be brave enough on a daily basis to deal with any shit that comes my way “whether i like it or not”
I have worked hard to be who I am today and I have to work hard every day, to be me, to be a nice person, be compassionate towards others, speak up for those unheard voices, speak up for the underdogs, fight the corner of those who at that time in their lives, have nothing let to fight with, I’m not doing this in the name of any god, I do it because it is the right thing to do! I haven’t got a problem with people having faith, who would? If its helping people navigate this thing we call life, then you do what you gotta do! crack on
But for me any faith that I have, quite frankly is in me sen and no fucker else and defiantly no fucking bloke I aint ever met before – And I am no feminist, before you start, I aint got time for that shit neither, but that’s for another blog.
I’m off to exeter today, sitting on the National BBN review board, cos some one thinks i have got something to offer! get me eh! looking forward to a four hour train journey, plently of time to have some peace and quiet time, to catch up on shit that needs dealing with AKA work.
I was talking about being able to have unfiltered conversations yesterday and how after weekend away with great company a weekend away full of unflitered conversations, i’m like back into reality, back in the rat race we call life
I sometimes feel that i find myself filtering the real me, but sometimes by trying hard to filter myself, my filter gets blocked, with worrying about, not offending someone, or not saying the right thing.
Also when my filter gets blocked the people around me don’t really get the real me! See its thereagain, that feeling of being misunderstood! My off the wall, over excited, passionate, my inappropriate use of language, but thats thereal me.
Or not being able to write in the, right language … “Ah ya grammar still needs some work!”
How’s about FUCK OFF
I do get frustrated a-lot of the time, because I feel like I am in certain situations having to mind my filter. Making sure I don’t say something that will offend someone, (because it isn’t socially acceptable)
Or be careful, that person that you are speaking to requires a little more respect because they are on a higher wage than you – BULLSHIT
Your representing the council, that does my head in too, because when your working for a society who blames the fucking council for everything that goes wrong, it can some times feel like, no matter what you do, it will never be fucking right!
I don’t like labels, in fact I fucking hate them! but i do know that i use them, even though i try my best not too. I know the times when I know I need to shut up and listen, and I also know that I need to learn to listen more and I am working on that.
But how cool would it be, if we all could feel safe enough to drop our filters and started and to express how and what we think, at least that way, every fucker would know where every fucker stood.
In the mean time, i will surround myself with people who i feel safe being around, being the “unfiltered version of me” as much as i can.
There is my unflitered rant over for this morning, have a great day
Its a paradox in itself, me saying “I dont give a Fuck” when in fact its quite the opposite, I find I “Give many Fucks”, but often i can be giving a fuck about some things that arnt worth giving a fuck about! and that can be my problem.
After yesterdays post, i decided it might do me some good if i re-read the “subtle art of not giving a fuck”. which quite frankly would be near the top books i ever ever read, after, “the Lion, the witch and the wardrobe” which is the BEST book EVER, by the way
The last time i read it, was on me Kindle, as i was in a rush yesterday, i deceided to download the audio version and trust me when i say, its one of the better decsions i have made of late.
Mark manson, the author is fucking brillaint! he talks about the problem with society at the moment is that it is very much comsumer led, we are surrounded my articles, images of people who all seem to “have it figured out” and that its all a fucking illusion and he’s right!
Its not ok to “not be ok” in todays society and thats fucked up! – He’s right, when he ask, how many times have you found it hard to share with someone, even someone close to you that “your having a shit day?”.
In an attempt to avoid or escape the negatives in our lives, will only backfire and we do, DO IT, think about it?
The avoidance of suffering is a form of suffering
The avoidance of struggle is a struggle
The denial of failure is a failure
Hiding what is shameful is itself a form of shame
listening to Mark, helped reinforce my view (which i had been ignoring) and gave me a stark reminder that #Shithappens, and it does. It reminded me that when i talked yesterday of feeling distracted, it wasnt distraction, it was infact avoidance. I had started to give fucks about things that didnt matter!
Shits going to hit the pan at some point in my life, the best way of dealing with it, is to accept it face one and stop running me sen ragged trying to avoid the inevitable.
Life is full of fuck wits – you can chose whether or not the opinion of said fuckwits counts! If it doesn’t then you have a choice and you can chose to ignore it!
And its ok to be NOT OK!
Today though, up to now is OK, i have made some more headway with the book, writing a few more chapters this morning. I have meetings planned that are full of people who lift my soul. I have a meeting to go to later that quite frankly, i would prefer to to go, but i am because its important I go and I have said I will, so I am.