Bring Back Communism

Ok, Ok, ok, ok, OK. I know that we ever had it in here, but I kinda wish they would, well some of the principles of of it, not all of it, of course, like society today there are good and bad parts. 

The Cambridge dictionaries definition of Commusism  is “the belief in a society without different social classes in which the methods of production are owned and controlled by all its members and everyone works as much as they can and receives what they need”. 

A society where everyone was equal and there was none of “them and us”  Where everyone had the same, resources, essentials that they needed to survive. Thus removing this sense of entitlement that ‘I” (and I can only speak for myself here) see so much of in society now a days. Materialism has taken over on a mass scale, the Cambridge definition of materialism is “the belief that having money and possessions is the most important thing in life“. 

But, there IS MORE TO LIFE THAN WHAT YOU POSSESS. In the pursuit of “keeping up with the Joneses”. There is this misconception that ‘money can buy you happiness?’ “what the fuck is that all about? (thats what society lends us to believe) OR “If I had this, or had that life would be so much easier?”

Now you can even pay someone to fix you emotionally,  “I know, I’ll go pay someone to fix me”, we see more and more people going to rehab, but its not just for addictions anymore.

Rehab is now seen as a place where you can go for a break! People actually pay fucking thousands for this, when reality is that all you are paying for is a space to hide yourself from reality for a bit, but YOU still gotta do the work, go and #haveawordwitheesen then ya get ya sorry ass back out into society and try again. 

Despite what social media says, “life doesn’t have to be that hard” and there are a lot of people who”get this” but they are normally the ones who have been through some personal life trauma, those whose lives have taken them to “hell and back”. The loss of a loved one, the loss of themselves, relationship breakdown, domestic abuse, addiction, mental health.

The guys who “get this” are the ones who have had to face their ‘EMOTIONS’ not hide behind them because they don’t like the feel of them, or they are scared of hurting someone else emotions.

The people you see around you who appear happy, content with themselves are those who are least likely to measure their  life’s happiness by what they have got, but on how they feel about themselves. Don’t be deceived, money or success DOES NOT BUY YOU HAPPINESS, FACT! 

You only have to look round you to see this. Does it really matter what you have got or achieved in life? Everyone has the ability to be happy and content, regardless of wealth or status. The bottom line is if you strip away all the materialism bullshit, all anyone has is themselves and their loved ones. There is only YOU who can attain happiness.

I have been there, trust me, in my book ‘Blood is thicker than alcohol’ the majority of me feeling lost and isolated in my younger years came from societies expectations of who I thought I should be.

  • I tried wearing makeup, because ‘cos thats what girls do’ and looked a reet TWAT.
  • I dressed like a boy, because I related more to lads and didn’t like skirts, then got accused of ‘being a lesbian’
  • if I questioned anything at school I was labeled ‘a trouble maker’ to be fair I was ‘a little fucker’
  • I would never tell anyone how I really felt, because I would be labeled as ‘being weak’

Whilst I have some amazing memories from my youth, I also have a lot of sad memories, I didn’t know who I was? I didn’t like how I felt about myself? I didn’t have a fucking clue.  I had to work it out for me sen by #havingawordwimesen, I love that quote, cant you tell….. because quite simply “its fucking true….” There is no rule book growing up, we work wi what we got!

Getting to ‘know me’ at 21 years of age wasn’t out of choice neither, and it wasn’t nice, it was the external factors and environment at the time that forced me to reflect on all the above.

And its not hard to start searching for happiness, all you have to do is ask yourself?

How do you measure your happiness? 

  • Would you be happier with more money
  • Would you be happier if you had more friends?
  • Would you be happier if you had a car, house, or well paid job?
  • Would you be happier if you were in an intimate relationship?

If your happiness relies or is based on any or all of the above, you are potentially screwed, because quite frankly my friends, any of these can be taken away from anyone of us in a nano second. And there is potentially NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT

Many people hold onto the limiting beliefs that if they ‘Only I just had any or all of the above’ they will be happy, but its crap.

Take toddlers or young kids they are more than happy with a few toys, ‘or the box they came in’. As long as they feel loved, warm, fed and basically, have ALL their basic needs met, they are happy Arn’t they?

They have very little limiting beliefs, or fears because they don’t know any different, its all learned behaviour. Then they grow up and are exposed to temptation and the misconception that if they have the latest gadget ‘they will be accepted’ by society, because lets face it, if a kids ain’t wearing the latest trainers, they are fucking social lepers!.  Them emotions hurt, them feelings hurt, but rather than deal with those feelings, people are more inclined to pursue all those material items, change themselves, try to change how they think the worlds views them, just to fit in. And some people  will do anything if it makes them’Feel’ better about themselves.

Society is FUCKED up, BUT only if you buy into the BULLSHIT everyone is fed.

BUT and heres the BUT…

If you could start to measure your happiness focusing on what you already have, starting with YOU, your health, your mental health, your physical health, doing things for YOU, that make YOU happy.

Start listen to YOUR own feelings, YOUR own emotions, learning to understand YOUR emotions, because even though them emotions can be a biatch and they can physically hurt, They don’t ever go away…

You can try suppressing them all you fucking want, but I can guarantee they are there, lurking ready to raise their ugly head again, when you are least expecting it. People really do underestimate how much emotions and feelings drive us, if you understood this, trusted this, then you would be more likely to feel alot better about you and who you are.


There really is no need to ‘Bring back Communism’ but there is a need to get people to start questioning their values, questioning and learning to understand what limiting beliefs they carry around with them.

Start to understand that underneath all the materialistic bullshit, we are ALL fundamentally the same.

Start  by having relationship with ourselves.  Because if more people understood this, then I would be happy to bet, that they/ YOU would be a lot happier – AND GUESS WHAT, Its FREE

Right RANT over with, but I’ll tell ya now! don’t expect me or anyone else to do it for ya, COS I CAN’T and WON’T.  But I can and will offer some guidance, its your choice, you can take it or leave it, some might be utter bullshit, (I don’t care) you just take what YOU need from it.


Recommendation

Although these are not free, there are a couple of books that I would highly recommend you read, that could help you on your journey to start learning and listening to yourself.

Feel the Fear and do it anyway – By Susan Jeffers, I read this many years ago and will often go back and re-read again.

I love love love The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck – Mark Manson, its is currently only available on Kindle, the book isn’t out until 2019

 

 

Nothing to say

Well after breaking my 35 day alcohol free experiment this Saturday, its fair to say, the consequences were pretty dire Sunday, morning, afternoon AND evening. “How the fuck did i do this EVERY weekend?” 

Now don’t get me wrong, i knew that the likely hood of me going for me 6 am run Sunday morning was about as predictable as England winning the world cup. but i did not expect it to feel that bad.

Walking up, wi a gob like gandys flip flop (which to be fair, IS TOTALLY expected) but I swear some sadistic bastard somewhere had got a voodoo doll of me, and wa sticking fucking needles in me head. 4 Ibuprofen and 6 paracetamol later, the headache was still hanging around until i went to bed at 10pm.  I ate every greasy, unhealthy food stuff in reaching distance, I sat and pretended to watch mind numbing TV, i did nothing, and i mean nothing, even if I had wanted to, i wouldn’t have had the energy, i was totally and utterly spent.

This morning run, well it wasn’t even a fucking run! my belly was more swollen than usual, i didn’t have the usual empty Kangaroo pouch bouncing around, it felt like i was carrying fucking twins. My skin still looks dull as fuck, I’m still feeling slightly lethargic,  BUT what i do know is, that this feeling WILL PASS.

On the plus side, i had one of the best days out in a long time, i bumped into people i hadn’t seen for ages, i was in great company, the weather was perfect, not too hot, not too cold, the music and atmosphere was mint, was it worth the dire hangover yesterday? I’d say YES, but, and here is the but…

I learned something from it, for the past few weeks whilst i have been alcohol free, what iv’e gained personally far out weighs the consequences of drinking. Now that’s not me saying “i’m not drinking ever again”, far from it, but i DO HAVE CHOICES. If i have the time the day after drinking to mong out all day and be of absolutely no used to anyone, especially me sen, then so be it. However, if i haven’t got the time or feel like dealing with a raging hangover the following day then i will simply abstain – SIMPLE

I could have sat and mourned the one day out of my life that i lost, which for the record would have only served to depress myself even more OR i could (which i did) take the hangover on the chin, (although there was quite a bit of moaning going on) and accept that it was self inflicted, no one forced me to drink, quite the opposite, i was ready to test me sen and oh, fucking boy did I?

So test outta the way, i am looking forward to getting back to feeling me old send again, back to me morning runs, early morning writing, which my friends is going very well

 

Run Fordy, Run……

My morning run, takes me on average 25 minutes, the round route is approx. Between 1.98-1.99 miles, (trust me that o.1 counts)  and I normally average between 13-14 minute per mile. I am currently getting 4 runs in per week, alarm on for 5.45am, (but I’m more often than not stirring already). My morning routine, consist of having a piss, which is normally dark orange ffs, Question, ‘Is that normal, considering I haven’t drank alcohol for over a month?’ – advice greatly appreciated in the comments box below… 

My old man, Pat, ’I think’ thinks im having a mid life crisis, running first thing, then getting back and tapping away on the keyboard, before work! Fuck me, if I’d been up early previously, he’d have been saying “has tha shit bed?” On account for me being known for liking me sleep, I’m also affectionally known as the “bed slug”, hence why pats affectionately called “Pat the Twat”. (I digress) 

So I put me running gear on, its the same outfit for the whole week, same pants, leggings and t-shirt. ‘Yes call me a scruffy git, but at least im not a lazy scruffy git!’ There are actually some benefits to doing this!  a) it cuts down on washing, b) I don’t have to piss about the night before and c) I can just pick them up get dressed and go, plus not fucker smells me !

Next is taking me tablets, theres me, Hay fever tablets, Vitamin D (apparently its good for bone strength, and I need it at my age, cos I aint getting any fucking younger) then my trusty Prozac, which I have been taking for the past 20+ years, 20ml per day for PMT, because trust me, without them once a month I turned into David Banner (The incredible Hulk). More recently this has been upped to 40ml, because I am now Perimenopausal , ‘this growing old malarky, is no fucking joke, is it?’ These are washed down, with plenty of water to also aid turning me piss clear again. Earphone’s in, Spotify on, trainers on (yes same socks all week too), run keeper on, then I’m off and outta the door for 6am.

This mornings run took 30.44 minutes, did 1.98 miles at a pace of 15.30 per mile a bit longer, but im going to explain why…

In addition to helping clear me fucked up head, me morning run is the only time of the day for ‘ME’ no one else benefits, just ‘ME’ I can go at ‘MY’ own pace, listen to what ever music ‘I’ want to, I can run were ‘I’ want, I can chose how far ‘I’ want, its all about ‘ME’. 

I don’t start off running straight away, (like I did when training for the half marathon earlier this year) I start out with a steady walk to the top of me road, loosen up (thats my excuse) then I’m off, like Forrest Gump, Zola Bud, Usain Bolt, Paula Radcliffe, you see I can be anyone ‘I’ want when im out running, AND I’m not the only one! There are a couple of others (regulars)  normally going a lot faster than me, but I don’t care, because this isn’t a race for me, its about having some me time.

This mornings run, was amazing and left me smile for the whole run, I still smiling now as I write this, its left me with a happy feeling, that will probably stay with me ALL day. So, I as I reach the brow of the hill and start to descend theres always a couple of people stood at the same bus stop, the same time, every time I go out. 

The lady is older, and I would take an educated guess and suggest she is the mother. The guy, younger, in his 2o’s I’d guess, is always stood there with a long white guide stick, one of them with balls on the end. He wears dark glasses so I never knew if he was partially or totally blind. But this morning, as I approached, I treated them, with me usual ‘Morning!’ And the guys said, “excuse me, how far do you run?”I explained “either 1.98 or 1.99 miles”, “Wow, where do you run from?” I explained my route, he was then like “why?” His mother at this point interjected and said “stop with all the questions” I was like “its ok” I turned to him and explained that it sorted me head out before going to work. He said “why what do you do” well I wasn’t going to go into too much detail, we’d have been there all day! “I work with drug users and alcoholics”, he smiled and said “go on then, run you need it I guess” or parted wishing them a good day and trotted off. 

As I started jogging again, I thought to myself ‘I’m going to ask him next time I see, him, where he is off too at this godly hour a morning’ . Now I don’t know this guy from adam, he obviously also had some learning difficulties, but that didn’t stop him enquiring. You see there is another lady I often see towards the end of my morning run, I often see her near the local frechi pond. She isn’t running, but she is walking, walking at a fast pace, swinging her arms with a determined look on her face.

 I always try and catch her eye to ‘try’ and say good morning, but her eyes never meet mine, although I know she see’s me, cos she aint got no walking stick. I don’t know anything about her, all I know is that she’s out the same time as me, I see her every time I go for a run, so thats four times a week. 

All I can do is make some educated guesses, and I say ‘educated guesses’, because that all I can do, so I am guessing…

She comes out early, because there are less people around, less people like me for example who might judge her for being over weight. Not that I am judging her, far from it, one of the main reasons I go out 1st thing, as well as the benefits I mentioned earlier, is that theres not many people around, so that means less people to see me wobbly ass or kangaroo pouch bouncing around. 

She never smiles or acknowledges me, because she might be thinking ‘here she is, that runner, showing off again, smug cow’. Yes, that’s what I am assuming, because thats what I have thought before, when I have seen people going faster than me, or looking leaner than me, I’ve been there thinking, ‘ahh its alright for you, you don’t really need to be out here running, ya skinny bastard’ I now however realised that the reason they are probably thinner, leaner than me is because they get their sorry purt assess outta bed and do some exercise every morning and I bet they don’t have a kebab on a weekend either? I bet they eat that, Quinoa shit and are vegan! “See I can still be a judgmental biatch”

Anyway, every time I see her, she never smiles, nor makes eye contact, and I wish she would, because I am not judging her, she might not even think I am? But I kind get the feeling she is. This morning though, i’m sure she cracked a small smile, I’m sure of it. There wasn’t any real eye contact, but it was an acknowledgement! ‘what she will never know is, that little smile, made my day today’ 

I would love to make eye contact so I could smile at her, or wish her good morning. I wish I could be as brave as the young lad this morning, to have the courage to make an effort and ask a complete stranger why they ran! 

The next time I see the young chap, I am going to stop and say my usual good morning, but then I am going to asking “so where are you off too these early mornings then?”. The next time I see this lady, I am going to continue in my effort to get her to make full on eye contact and see if she will reciprocate with a “good morning” too. 

Now, its 8.21 am, I’m getting picked up at 9.15, so I had better get me sorry ass weshed, and I need it, after wearing same clothes for a week, and yes i’m still sat in me running gear! But quite frankly ‘I don’t give any fucks’ because today, will go well, regardless of what shit work throws at me, all because that lad had the courage to take an interest and because I got a slight smile for the nameless woman AND I got to take in these great views 

I actually made a start!

Well this writing malarky is fucking hard graft!!  its no wonder its taken me soooo long to have a go at writing a book! I actually had an argument with the laptop last night, I proper ‘spat dummy out’ it was about 9pm, I’d been trying to figure out this bleeding subscription link on WordPress, I was getting online advice and it was still ‘fucking gobbledygook’ I was having a proper rant to me sen, I turned lap top off and stomped downstairs.

I was tempted too go and watch ‘Love Island’, YES I love love island, I reasoned it was the only thing on that would take me mind off trying to write.

I was there with all the negative affirming thoughts,”you can’t do it”, “its too hard, writing is for other people”, “your deluded, even some of the people around you look like you’ve grown two fucking heads, when you tell em, your having a break off the drink to concentrate on writing” there were more, trust me …….To say I was feeling pretty shit about myself would have been an understatement.

Actually, I was only downstairs for five minutes, when I started to #Haveawordwimesenlook just relax, you don’t need any more stimulation, go to bed,  tomorrow is a new day”, “your not going to get it right all the time” , “what you have to say will come”, “trust yourself“, “give yourself a fucking break, for crying out loud”, “don’t look at your phone, stay off social media” “just go to bed and try and relax” 

Guess what? this#Havingawordwimesen malarky is working! because, when I got back upstairs, I stared at the dead computer and thought to me sen, ‘right go to your journal and have an off load, then go to bed’. So I did, then guess what? it started to come.


I’d made a decision the day before to actually start and make an attempt at writing the book, my post yesterday, dedicated to dad, was a start. but I still didn’t have a Scooby do, how to start. Now,  whilst I have already written a few chapters over the years, I have decide to start again. And I am glad I am, because I’ve got a real opportunity here to spill me guts, I don’t care if anyone who reads it, doesn’t get it? fuck em? this is about me. One day in years to come, I will have left at least left something of me, for any future great, great grandkids, who will never get to meet me, but they can get a good understanding how fucking whappy their great, great grandma was… and probably understand how they take after me. (sat here smirking to me sen) 

Do I start with the introduction? or do I just get straight into my story? Again, I could feel me sen getting wound up again, then I realised I’d previously made some notes about ‘why I wanted to write the fucking book’ I reasoned with myself that I would just type these up as a start and just take it from there, finish writing (at least I would have done something) then come back and look at it again today.

So I did and I am, I have to say, ‘I am pretty impressed wi me sen‘ – feeling better, I finally got me sorry ass into bed.


It’s 7.05am, Wednesday 18th July, I’ve already been for me morning run,Mick I had one of them moments” I was doing me gentle jog, when Kyle Minogue came on Spotify. “Better the Devil you know” for those who wasn’t there, this was played at dads funeral. I remember people’s faces in the room, they were like “what the fuck! Kyle Minogue?” whats that all about?. But what they didn’t know was that dad, loved Kyle…

‘Well he liked her ass in them gold hot pants’ He’d once asked me to get him Kyle’s CD, which I did, then the day after, he was like “it doesn’t even fucking work!” I was like dad it does, look… I went to CD and turned it on.

Its was sooo funny, because dad was like “Nah I don’t want to listen to her, I wanted to watch that video with her in hot pants” Bleeding typical, he wanted a DVD so he could watch her pert ass, not listen to the song, for fucks sake….

So back to this morning and the Kyle song, after dad passed, me and my sister were sat in my living room (I can still see us now) trying to choose a song for the funeral. It was soo hard, I mean how the hell do you chose a song that tells a story about your relationship, a song that says a final good bye?  but then Kyle “Better the Devil you know” came on.

We sat and listened and ironically that Kyle song resonated with us both, in fact I am listening to it now, it totally reminds me of dad and how both me and my sister felt about what we’d just been through. Which was fucking pure hell, I can tell ya! but it was also a reminder about his fuckin fixation on them hot pants, right to the end he was still a saucy fucker… which makes me smile.

But regardless, it was all worth it, at least we can say, it might have been 35 years too late, but at least we got to know him,  was it perfect? NO, would I have preferred to have got to know dad earlier? YES, but hey #shit happens, some times you just gotta live with it and make the most of what ya got.

Signing off, Fordys got her MOJO back (I will probably lose the fucker again, but hey, #Shithappens)

Introducing Dad, Frank Thomas Ford

HI Guys – let me introduce you to me dad, Frank Thomas Ford, dad is the inspiration for the book i am writing ‘Blood is thicker than alcohol’ below is a poem, I wrote, before dad actually passed away.  It was written one night when i couldn’t sleep, through worry, off loading all my crap and feelings was one of my coping strategies at the time.

We had this printed in the obituary section in the Sheffield Star, (Cos that’s what people did back then, check out the obituary section daily to see who had snuffed it) I’ll tell ya what though, it nearly didn’t make it, after doing the word count the bill was about £250 fucking quid – robbing bar stewards. 

Thank god for social media, now a day’s you can tell every fucker for FREE!

Dad, Drink & Me 

33 but still a child

Both far too young to be contemplating death!

He’s only 54 looking more like 84

I’m 33 and know this subject well

Nether the less I’m still going through hell!

I just want it to end….

But the only options are death OR continue to pretend!

Too young to die and yet too young to care

But Alcohol has brought us both here

 

We have been here so many times before

And with each time it affects us both a little more

What does it take to make someone see….

That if he chose life over drink he’s got grandkids and ME!

 

Looks of pity and shame from those who knew him well!

The loss of independence, for a man who always knew what he wanted..

Too a man in his prime, locked inside a body far too old for his time!

So what’s he got now to look forward to?

Apart from regular visits from the hired home help, who have to assist him to the loo

 

And what about us? Who’ve always been there?

Left to cope with feeling of exhaustion and feelings of despair?

But walking away is impossible to do, because you are our dad and we can’t help but care…

 

I can truly see the temptation to drink

So I can drown my own sorrows and help stop me to think!

But I have followed your journey and seen where it ends

 

We all have choices and this one has been yours

And so, despite all the heartache and pain on your part and mine

I guess I’ll just have to console myself again…

 

Until the next time

 

RIP DAD

20.03.2004

Insight into my journey so far

 

Morning guys

I hadn’t intended on doing a post on here this morning, because I have been working on #havingawordwimesen and writing in my personal journal. But then I started to read back to where this all started and thought I would / could share one of my very earliest journal entries with you.

Im doing this, just to highlight how ‘fucked’ up sometimes our heads can take us and I’m looking back laughing right now (though at the time I was pretty pissed off wi me sen, I can tell thee)

Tuesday 18th June 2018

I missed out on writing today, spent far too much time and energy on researching fucking non-alcoholic drinks and the sugar content. Whilst I haven’t had an AF beer since Saturday, Pat pointed out that there is more sugar in AF beer than normal Beer, still feeling pretty bloated from being over indulgent on holidays, I got fixated on trying to find the lowest sugar beer.

Plus it didn’t help that I had shared on the group facebook page that AF beers were my go to thing and some clever twat started saying ’ooo I stay away from them theres too many carbs and sugar in them’ then someone else says ’ooo be careful they could be a trigger?’

I drove myself practically mental, and stressed myself out until I realised that the average level of sugar per day is 30grams, and ok, so my fave beer has 3grams, thats not so bad. Plus I’m not going to wine after the beers like I previously did, and drinking beer I didn’t feel the desire to eat chocolate neither, sooooooo AND by being alcohol free I am allowing myself to relax and reflect clearly, take one day at a time and I’ve been so productive at work, without compromising myself, leaving some time left for me.

I had a word wi Mesen 

I have got that used to taking peoples views and opinions into consideration, that I lose sight of what I think and feels right. In fact I was happy until I actually listened to the fuckwits ! Well I am the fuckwit for actually listening, but hey I’m learning.

 

See its not just you …..

What am I thinking?

 

  • Can you sometimes predict what someone is thinking and have been right
  • Can you sometimes predict how someone is feeling and have been right?
  • Can you sometimes predict a scenario that’s going to happen and have been right?
  • Have you ever predicted what someone was thinking, but was wrong?
  • Have you ever predicted how you think someone was feeling and been wrong?
  • Have you ever predicted a scenario that you thought would happen, but been wrong?

If you answered YES to any of the above, well i am sorry to piss on your bonfire, BUT i am….

The reality is,  we simply cannot ever always know, what someone is thinking, feeling or going to do? BUT we can predict what WE

  • Are feeling
  • Are thinking
  • Are planning to do

If we knew all this about everyone else we would all be fucking psychic right!

How can someone predict what someone else may or may not be thinking, feeling or going to do, when half the time the don’t know them fucking selves? Save all that psychic energy and use it on yourself….

#Haveawordwitheesen

#shithappens

I want you to do something for me 

Take a quick look back on your life, lets say go back to being around 16 years old or anytime during your teenage years.  Now try to recall how you perceived the life you wanted for yourself at that time?

  • Was it a career?
  • Was it love?
  • Was it marriage?
  • Was it kids?
  • Was it a house?

Now I want you to take a moment to think about, where you are at now?

Did you get what you want? maybe you did? maybe you didn’t? maybe you had it and lost it?

I’m going to make a mystic meg prediction and suggest that,  ‘Your life to date, didn’t pan out the way you had previously planned it to?’

I will also predict  that ‘your journey from A to B hasn’t been an easy one, Right?

I know I am right – Christ! I think I am fucking psychic !!


My own experience 

To be honest, when I was younger (teenager) I didn’t have a fucking Scooby do what I wanted from life nor was i able to predict how I got to where I am now, I mean, I certainly would never have predicted

  • losing my virginity at 16, and getting pregnant straight after
  • Having my own home at 17, being responsible for a kid
  • Being at home every week end, whilst everyone around me was going out and ‘living life’
  • Getting addicted to speed
  • Caring for my alcoholic dad, was like watching a slow suicide
  • Oh trust me the list goes on, and on and on… there is plenty of CRAP that i had never factored in my life happening, but it did…

I know for a fact i never said “I hope that in the future I go through some real crappy shit, physical and emotional pain”. I mean who the fuck would wish that upon themselves?

Joking aside, because life isn’t a joke, life can be pretty shit, its perfectly normal not to want to feel shit. However, sometimes the shit ball rolls our way and we have no choice in the matter, we didn’t ask for the shit ball,  but we got it. The good news is though, we do have a choice and options on how we deal with the shit ball we can either

  • Accept shit happens, be sad for a while then move on                                                OR
  • Continue to moan about how the shit ball rolled your in your direction and continue to play football with the shit ball

Reality check folks

The reality is that most of the time, we cannot predict or control our future, if we could you would have sailed through life pain free and got everything you wanted, right?


Your experience 

I want you to think of a time in your life that was tough, emotionally, physically, mentally or financially painful = SHIT.  At that time, I can take a pretty good guess and say ‘you felt  at the time like your life was going to feel like SHIT forever?’

Now i’m guessing, you survived it? but at the time you didn’t think you would? but you did! Your a survivor

Remember just because you are having a bad day, a bad week, a bad month doesn’t  that mean your going to have a bad life?

Life can be shit, but we DO have options either deal with it, or play football with it

Love Tracey x

 

 

What do you see?

I recall many years ago taking a Neuro-Linguistic Programming test, alternatively known as NLP.  The training had been arranged by work, so all staff had to attend and to be honest at the time I was thinking ‘what a load of cod wallop’. But in fact, a light turned on inside me during that day, well I say ‘a light turned on’ its hard to describe, so let me ‘try to’ explain…

According to NLP, people generally experience the world via five senses — sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell, however each of us also have a  preferred mode of perception, how we see, hear, feel and sense  the world, our environment around us. There are three main modes of perception

  • Visual – Seeing
  • Auditory – Hearing
  • Kinaesthetic – Feelings

In the training room we were asked to take. short test, we were asked to go through a list of statements, but not to spend too much time thinking about the statements and tick the ones that we were drawn to.

I still recall the room, doing the test adding up my scores to find that my scores revield  (I cannot remember what the percentages were but this gives you an idea below)

  • Visual = 15
  • Auditory = 10
  • Kinaesthetic = 75

The theory is that by y understanding your preferred perception (view on the world) you can better understand, how and why you act/react in life.

This helped (for me and I am not saying it will for you). But, this is when the ‘lightbulb went on’. My result was a real revelation for me, because its the first time in my life I recognised  how much of an emotional person I really was.


Even though at the time of taking this test, I had been clean for over 12 months, I was still in early recovery, I was still learning about myself, trying to figure out what I wanted from life, who I was, who I wanted to be etc etc, FUCK ME IM STILL HERE TRYING TO FIGURE IT OUT

So whilst on the surface, I may have appeared sorted, back in control, underneath there was always a feeling of uncertainty, self doubt, its always there folks, we all feel it from time to time, I don’t care who you are…

Not that anyone else’s could ever see it, but then how could they? all they had ever seen was someone, getting angry, frustrated, someone who mostly was unable to express herself and say how she really felt.

Feelings are a BIG deal, if you suppress them they WILL ALWAYS pop up again at a later date or time, trust me. Then what will happen is when you get upset/emotional the next time or something really pissed you off, presses your buttons, you will REALLY over-react, I mean really over-react!. I bet you have all done this at some point, then asked yourself “what the fuck is up with me?”

After the test I looked back and thought about who I was when I was admitted into ‘The Nuthouse’ I’ve mentioned in earlier post that I was broken and ‘I was‘ But in all honesty, I think what had happened is all my three modes of perception had snapped, they had stopped working.

I was just an empty shell. SO a major part of my recovery was mainly about rebuilding ‘me’ not the surface me, but the real me’. Not the Tracey, whose life had previously been dictated by what others and society expected, I’d literally, physically, mentally, spiritually, emotionally, had had enough, I was like ‘STOP THE WORLD, IVE FUCKING HAD ENOUGH’. So when I say that being sectioned was the BEST thing that ever happened to me, I really mean it.  I’m getting to my point be patient….

20 odd years ago my recovery wasn’t just about, not taking drugs anymore, for me, it was about finding out who “I was, what I wanted, it was time to get selfish and think about me for a change” being in hospital had allowed me to safely reflect back to my past journey, and try to make sense of where my life had taken me and more importantly “How the FUCK at 22 did I find myself sectioned” I was a mother of two young girls for crying out loud…

I did ALOT of reflection at the time and I mean a lot,  I asked myself loads and loads of questions, I really did question myself …

  • Why did I think it was so important to please everyone else?
  • Why did I always feel a disappointment to others! – not meeting their expectations of who I should be or act, trying to be someone I wasn’t 
  • Why despite everything I did, did I feel misunderstood?
  • Why had I dedicated my life around to trying to make everyone else around me feel happy?
  • Why did I hate letting anyone down! – always saying ‘yes’ when I really wanted to say ‘NO’
  • How come no-one knew or understood how unhappy I really was? – Now, this is the MAJOR one…

The bottom line was if I didn’t know the answers to the questions ? “how the fuck did I expect anyone else to know?”  This was something that I had to work out myself.

So here I am 48 years old and 25 years later asking myself the same questions? Now don’t get me wrong, I am nowhere near the person I was back in hospital all those years ago,  I’m not having a mental breakdown, (I promise) I have a very good sense of self awareness, but I do think and feel that I have been getting by the past 15 years, just focusing on the surface stuff, I’ve lost touch with me! the real me?

Our personalities are made up of different layers, we are very complex human beings and I suppose I haven’t listened to me, the core of who I am for a long time and have basically started to  #haveaword, touch base with me again.

There are a lot of things I still want to achieve in life, I’m not sure what they are yet? well I do,  that dam fucking book, but there is more I can feel it, sense it.

I have a great partner, two great kids, grandson, a few amazing friends, who “get me” and the job I am very fortunate to enjoy, where I know I am making a difference.  But even with all these things, which I am eternally thankful for, I haven’t really been true to me for a long time. But now is the time…

Four weeks ago, something clicked again, I felt like something was missing, I didn’t know what? I couldn’t see it, but I felt it.  The saying is true “you cannot buy happiness” real happiness can only be achieved (in my humble opinion) by learning to take some responsibility and start asking yourself some questions, start thinking about

  • Practicing to accept the things you can change, but more importantly practice accepting the things you cant – a lot of things in life ARE out of our control. 
  • Learn to truly accept and love yourself for who you are – instead of waiting for someone else to make you feel loved, start loving yourself, regardless of how you think YOU look -Trust me, no one is bothered, only YOU
  • Practice looking around you and be thank full for what you ‘have got‘ and stop focusing on  ‘what you haven’t got’ and do you know what with this one? if you have got YOUR HEALTH you are very very lucky, because when your dead, your DEAD
  • If you have a roof over your head, be thankful, some people haven’t!
  • If you can only afford to buy the basic essentials, be thankful, some people cannot!
  • If you aren’t in a place you want to be, learn patience, work toward your goal if you don’t get there, it wasn’t mean to be, but at least you can say you tried?
  • Life is about taking RISK’s, we can either have a go and learn to manage and understand our fears & feelings that prevent us from taking a risk, OR we can stay exactly where we are.

And folks, this is exactly what I have been practicing myself, over the past four weeks…

  • Making time for ME
  • learning to accept that I will always have self-doubt, but I can learn to manage that self-doubt, learn to live with it
  • Learning to accept and ignore when people have questioned why I bought a desk? computer? why I have started writing? because it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks as long as “I’m happy”
  • I’ve learned that the happier I am with myself the happier people around me are
  • I feel less stressed, calmer, sleeping better, ALL because I started to #Haveawordwimesen AGAIN.
  • AND I am practicing to write, FOR ME, whilst I am happy to share my writing with a select few (that’s you by the way) I am writing for ME.
  • In the past 4 weeks, I have had a break, from alcohol, just to see if I could hear and listen to myself again, Trust me it’s hard to hear yourself when you are dealing with a shitty hangover 
  • I set this website up, started a blog, (this was never in my plan) but it feels right?
  • Whilst I am expressing myself on here, I am also learning to develop my own unique style of writing, so when I DO finish the fucking dam book, it will be a real true reflection of my interpretation of the story.

Now in the picture above, you might see someone talking to a wall?

I see someone who is talking to their own reflection, talking to themselves. No one else, that shadow is MY shadow, it’s me, but just a reflection, a different view of who I am, and I for one am happy that our paths have crossed again.

A shadow only appears when the light is present if it is dark and you cannot see your shadow, create some light…

Tracey x

Taking back my dice

Morning

I took a break from drinking alcohol socially over 24 days ago now (thats not to say I’m NOT DRINKING AGAIN) But the main, fundamental reason I wanted a break was to ‘find me again’ . Over the past few years the only time I ever really got to myself to relax and not think about work, life etc, was the weekend.

However, for the past, christ knows how long, my weekends have been spent trying to relax, but its hard to relax, when I was fucking hungover and crap. And then theres the ‘dam book’ getting around to writing ‘that fucking book’ for years and despite attempts to make a start, they have always been half hearted, because in order (I think) to pore my heart out about some personal crap, will require me to be in a good place AND it helps if your not hungover and feeling CRAP.

I think I have known and felt this way for a while, but could never put my finger on what was missing.

So during the first 22 days, I honestly have to say, I have never felt better physically and mentally, whilst its felt different, the way I feel about myself is 1000 times better than I have done in years. I have realised what was missing was “having a relationship again with me”. I’d started to prioritise me! and by not drinking, I’d given myself the space to ‘think about me’ .

In the 4th of July’s post, I talked about life being like ‘A game of Snake and Ladders’.

I have recently had a couple of shit, crap, wank days this week, that made ‘me’ feel crap about myself. How ever after some ‘me time’ reflection I can now see how I had allowed this to happen.

And, yes I said “ME” even though there were some external factors, incidents that had happened. I didn’t like how I was feeling and realised that the past couple of days, whilst it had been going through the motions, I had stopped #Havingawordwimesen


So it was time to #Haveaword, this started off by asking myself, what happened that ‘I’ had allowed to piss of off over the past couple of days?  Looking back

Soooo….. I had a couple of meetings at the beginning of the week, of which I felt uncomfortable about dealing with, (it would appear I was probably more anxious about them than I thought). 

I got the first one out of the way and felt better, relieved and  relaxed again.

Then I returned to my desk to be told the admin worker called in sick, I did feel gutted because the consequences was that, that day there was a deadline to be met, which meant I would have to do it. But at the time though,  I reasoned (#hadaword) with myself, ‘ok, its happened, there is nothing I can do about itI will just have to do it’. So I re-priorised my work and cracked on with the task in hand.

So what with managing,  juggling and troubleshooting other work related issues, I did leave work that day feeling drained from being under pressure. I was physically and emotion knackered by the end of Monday, so went to bed early too get some rest for the meeting that lunch time that I was ‘really dreading and anxious about’

I had prepped for the meeting, I had all the information at hand, I was struggling to prepare myself for having to deal with the person chairing the meeting.

In a nut shell, he’d previously been publicly derogatory and had made some flippant remarks about one of the projects I’d managed, however as I wasn’t at the meetings when he’d aired ‘his’ flippant remarks I obviously wasn’t able to defend or respond. SO basically I knew, that should he start making flippant remarks, whilst I was present, I would have NO choice but to challenge it.

On route to the meeting I was constantly #havingawordwimesen, reminding myself that…

  • I was  good at my job
  • That it was only HIS opinion
  • I was well respected by my peers
  • Try not to take it personal

Well, after being in the meeting for approximatly 15-20 minutes, he made another similar derogatory remark, like the ones he’d made at previous meetings, those meetings, where I hadn’t been able to defend back.

WELL its fair to say I LOST ME SHIT, in fact the only part of me losing my shit I recall is saying “I’m sorry, but I am NOT having that!” I honestly do not remember what I actually said.

All I know is that after I stopped, all the eyes in the room were on me, which left me feeling slightly (well a-lot) embarrassed and ashamed of myself. Even though, it was fully justified, I felt (a little better) I had not wanted, nor intended on reacting like it did, essentially I had let him in and allowed him to get to me.

Even though, I would love to have stamped on his fucking head and give him ALL the FUCKS I possessed, the reality is, I would’ve felt better initially, but then what?

  • Would that stop him from being a FUCKWIT? – NO
  • Who left that meeting feeling SHIT? – ME

I checked in with a coupled of people who were there after, firstly to apologise for my outburst, but also to find out what I had said (because I honestly don’t remember). One said “He deserved it” the other said “all you did was show how passionate you are”, so basically I went OTT.


I don’t like ‘being’ or ‘feeling’ like that person. Yesterday, I came home knowing Pat was out all night, which meant I could use the alone time to #haveawordwimesen, I got out my personal journal and started to write and do you know what? I started to feel a lot better, because after reflecting on all the of the above, I understood why I was feeling ‘SHIT’.

It was because my feelings had been hurt, i had taken stuff to heart and personalised something that wasn’t in fact personal nor intentionally intended to hurt me, but that I had made it personal.

So like ‘the game of snake and ladders,  what I had done is stopped rolling my own dice and had allowed someone else to throw my dice for me… and guess what? “thats ok,.

Sometimes we don’t realise that we are allowing someone else to throw our dice” the key is when you realise you are allowing someone to play the game for you, you have a choice, you can either take back the dice, or continue to let them play YOUR game on YOUR behalf.

Sooo, the question you could ask YOURSELF today is who are YOU allowing to throw your dice?

 

Love Fordy x