Surrounded By FUCKWITS

We are surrounded by Fuckwits

Morning guys, I had lovely catch up with my bestie, Shauna last night, its not often we get together, but when we do its not like we have never been apart. Its not long before we are talking about whats going off around us, trying to understand life, what. we want, what we don’t want, whats recently pissed us off etc..

She get’s me and I get her. We both accept that we both can be neurotic, irrational, the beauty about our friendship is we are both able to tell each other frankly “I think your over reacting, or I think your being too hard on yourself” but we also share the good times too, and trust me we have had loads.


If you have a mate like this, you are extremely lucky, you might have many friends, but friends who accept you, regardless of your flaws (all of the above), if you have a mate who gets you, but haven’t spoken to them for a while, get in touch, touch base, see how they are doing, listen to what THEY have to say, NOT what you want to say and nuture that relationship. Even if they can be FUCKWITS at times, tell them they are being a Fuckwit. 


Last night our conversation turned to FUCKWITS  

There are loads of definitions of what a fuckwit is, but I like the Urban Dictionaries definition  ‘a person who is not only lacking in clue but is apparently unable or unwilling to acquire clue even when handed it on a plate in generous portions.’

I bet you can think of a few fuckwits?  some make you angry, some make you laugh and some quite frankly will make you despair.

You might work with a Fuckwit?, you might have a loved one whose a Fuckwit? a family member who is a Fuckwit? . So now we have ascertained we are surrounded by Fuckwits,  how do we deal with all these Fuckwits?

You can distance yourself from a fuckwit, but I will guarantee another Fuckwit will pop up again, you can feel like you are constantly “bashing the toad”

Its quite simply a FACT OF LIFE  “We are surrounded by Fuckwits” 

 

Do you know, the sad thing is, the Fuckwits are so unaware that they don’t even know they are Fuckwits.

Fuckwits can only  stop being Fuckwits if they are willing and open to accepting some clues,  so if you have tried to offer some clues and they haven’t picked up on them, then YOUR FUCKED.

So next time whilst you running around pulling your hair out trying to deal with a Fuckwit, ask yourself this “whats worse?”

Being a Fuckwit?

OR

Being the idiot, running around, pulling your hair out, feeling frustrated, feeling angry, feeling upset, feeling hurt all because of a Fuckwit? who doesn’t even know they are a Fuckwit?

Think about it, how much longer are YOU going to let a Fuckwit affect your life?

Reet folks on that note, I’m off to work, to deal with (some, not all) Fuckwits

 

Love Tracey

Ps, please feel free to share your thoughts on Fuckwits

“ I wore a dress and calmed me chimp“

I wore a dress

Morning guys, just got back from me run, its 6.30am and I feel great. So if you have woken up this morning feeling a little crap reading this, so “Im sorry to hear your feeling crap“, (please feel free to stop reading now) but do you know what? I am not apologising for being in a good place.

Now you might be thinking ‘what the fuck is she on about I wore a dress?’ well, every Tuesday and Thursday theres a stall on the bottom of the Moor, in Sheffield, its run by two GREAT women, who have clubbed some cash together to start their own little business. They are there bless em, come rain or shine and cold (and let me tell ya they have braved some shit weather) I love their clothes, they aren’t the usual standard high street clothes, they sell pretty much unique one offs, a style I used to love to wear many years ago, when I had the self confidence to wear something different!

This Tuesday, I popped I to see if they had anything new in or if they had got he dungarees that I’d bought a few weeks earlier, but in black (I’d asked them to get me some if they saw any). Anyway, they pointed out their new stock and said “we’ve got a dress I think you will love“ I’m like “Nahhhh, ya know I don’t wear dresses!“ but they showed me the dress and I did like it, in fact I loved it, but I don’t wear dresses! (apart from when Im on me holidays because no body knows me there, I might wear a long dress at home, but only as long as it comes to me ankles, but thats as far as it goes)

Your probably wondering ‘why doesn’t she wear dresses, the weirdo?’ its because I hate my calfs! yes, you heard right! I hate my calfs, they are like footballers calfs, not ya slim feminine calfs, mine are “massive“ – well the girls on the stall convinced me to try the dress on over me clothes, I reasoned that it if covered my calfs, it might be a goer.  And it did, “just“ cover me calfs, and I did like it, I was presenting at a conference the day after and thought that it would probably look better (more presentable) than the torn jeans and baggy top I was planning to wear. So I bought it, but did say, “look if im not sure im bringing it back Thursday ya know“ so it still wasn’t a done deal that I would wear it the following day, I still needed to see it properly myself.

I got back to work, and beckoned me mate Helen to the small office (she was probably wondering what the fuck I wanted) I was like I’ve bought a dress!, I’m actually laughing to myself writing this its official I am a weirdo“ I tried the dress on again, over my clothes, again and asked her what she thought? of course she said “its nice, it looks nice“ little reassured, but also feeling a little bit of a tit of me sen, , I took the dress off and said “i’m still not sure, i’m going to try it on again when I get home” 

I got home, the very first thing I did was try the bleeding dress on. it looked ok, it was different, I took it off, feeling a little more confident. So, when Pat got home, I was like “right I need you upstairs“ Poor sod thought it was his lucky day!“ Instead, I stripped off, put me dress on and said “what dya think“ he obviously said it looked ok, so I took it off for the third “fucking time“ and decided, yes, I’m going to bite the bullet and wear it the following day.

I reasoned with myself that even though I might feel out of my comfort zone, wearing a dress to the conference, nobody at the conference would notice, because the majority of them

a) Don’t know me and realise that I am a weirdo

b) Don’t care that I’m wearing a dress, they want to know what I’m there to talk about 


Morning of the conference I went for me morning run, got back, showered and dressed, and thought “right this is it, I look ok, lets do this”. My colleague Charlotte was picking me up, she pulled up, got out of the car and the first thing she said was “Morning, you look nice” (god little did she know), now I feel comfortable telling Charlotte, so I was like ” You do realise that this is the first time I have worn a dress in years!” I had to have a word wi me sen, this might be a BIG deal for me, but no fucker cares if im wearing a dress or not!

It’s fair to say, my first outing wearing a dress,  that did in fact,  show some of my calfs, (I’d noticed when I was carting me rucksack on me back, but every-time I thought about it, I tried to let it go).  The conference went GREAT, our presentation went down well, a lot of people in the audience asked questions, and a few stayed behind after to ask more questions, which is a good sign. Whats not so good is when theres NO questions and a room full of people running out for lunch as soon as you’ve finished your presentation.

So presentation done and apart from not being able to sit with me legs open, like I would have been about to do wearing trousers and trying to remind me sen to cross me legs, AND dealing with more than usual sweaty legs, Christ how do women do this? my first attempt at wearing a dress that showed a little of my calfs went ok.

Now you might think I’m weird and I would agree, I am also openly admitting to being someone who can and does quite frequently  ‘over think’ I frequently ‘question myself’  and ‘doubt myself‘. And if were all really honest with ourselves “we all do” and guess what?  its OK.

I read a GREAT book a while ago, in fact, after telling a few friends about it, Ive bought them a copy and I would encourage you to do so too, its called the “The Chimp Paradox”

Basically we all have a chimp, you cannot get rid of the chimp, but you CAN TAME it, by learning to understand it, and learn to understand which chimp is chatting shit in your head. For me, from buying that fucking dress, my “insecure” chimp, would not shut the fuck up! but because I reasoned and  didn’t listen to the chimp, I wore the dress, ‘no one died’, it felt ok, ‘well it did feel a little weird, but it was ok’ 

Disclaimer: The picture of me wasn’t taken to make a point about wearing a dress, I’d promised the girls on the stall that I’d get a picture and let them use it on their facebook page to help them sell some more. (they had better give me a discount next time on there, which will be today, by the way, I’m hoping me dungarees which pat says ‘make me look like Handy Pandy’ might be in.

Soooo who’d have thought? to anyone looking at the pic, how would they know that it had caused me so much wasted worry and grief? ‘after all, its a fucking dress for crying out loud’ so next time you see someone and think to yourself ‘look at them, they are always happy or I wish I had her confidence’ remember alls not what it seems

Reet I’m off

Love Tracey x

 

 

Life is like a game of snake and ladders (A metaphor for understanding life)

Life quite simply is like a game of snake and ladders, the question to ask yourself today is….

  • Are you playing?
  • Is someone playing on your behalf?
  • Have you been stuck in the same place for a while?
  • Have lost your dice?
  • Do you like who you are playing against?

Morning, just on me way to a conference to talk about the work partners in Sheffield Help us Help  have been doing around raising awareness to the general public about the people they see who are visible (mainly in the city centre) but who can look vulnerable or intimidating, you might refer to them as ‘street drinkers’ or ‘drugaholics’ a phase I know someone uses to describe people who are hanging outside an off licence in town either begging or in small groups being loud and rowdy.

Anyway, this morning I was being picked up early, so I set me alarm earlier, so I could get me morning run in.  Whilst out running (ok jogging and the odd walk) an idea / concept came to me.

Well I’m lying, the idea came to me last year, I designed some domestic abuse training for new staff, who were part of a new multiagency team to work with families, including the victim, perp and children affected by domestic abuse. The I’d designed the whole training session  around the board game “Snakes and Ladders” YES you heard, me “Snakes and Ladders” and cycle of change.

It got me thinking, I’ve been looking for a metaphor that could be used to describe how we can deal with life on life’s terms, a common sense approach, because lets be honest the worlds gone fucking mad.

When older generation say “hey it weren’t like this or like that back in my day” well it wouldn’t would it, we live in a completely different place now compared to, 10, 20, 30, 40, 50 friggin years ago.

Whilst our environment around us ‘human’s’ might have changed, personally I don’t think, us as humans have or are adapting as well as well could. Life is complicated regardless of you you are, where ever you were born, where who ever you are.

Back to the game

ANYONE can climb the ladder, and anyone can slide backwards. this might be self inflicted or out of your control. But, regardless your still a player in the game, you can chose to either, say safe (what ever that means to you) and stay where you are “Spit ya dummy out”and refuse to play OR you can dust yourself down and play this crazy world we call LIFE!

More often than not, the only thing that is stopping us from participating and playing are our own limiting beliefs, YES you heard it YOU.

Right that far too much fucking thinking for me today, BUT I do intend on expand and talk more about the ‘Snakes and Ladders’ metaphor

Love Tracey

 

 

Are you a pragmatist or a dreamer?

Is what you want in life really achievable

When you get what you want, will you be happier?
How will you know you will be happier?

Can you compromise? could you be happy with something less, more realistic? or more attainable

Take weight loss for example, if you have said one or more of the statements below, it might be time to have a re-think? You don’t have to but, it wont hurt neither will it?

I want to be slim
I want to lose my excess weight by xxxxx –
I want to get rid of my cellulite –
I want to be more toned
I want to get rid of my kangaroo pouch
I want to get rid of my stretch marks
I want a smaller ass
I want a bigger ass
I want bigger tits
I want smaller tits

Now ask yourself….

‘How much time is wasted, daydreaming, aspiring to attain one or more of the above?’
‘How many hours of negative thoughts and feelings have you given to one or more of the above?’
‘How much have you spent financially to try and attain one or more of the above ?’

Now ask yourself….

How much time have you spent accepting you as YOU?

Let me guess, I bet not much, and do you know why? because it’s painful, it doesn’t feel nice.

and its not easy when society  is always selling us ‘ if you buy xxxx then in two months you’ll be xxxxx;. You buy into the idea, the dream, not just to lose weight, but more than anything, what you really really want is to stop feeling fucking SHIT about yourself.

As individuals we have learned, if we can help it, we try to avoid painful situations at all cost ! Even at the cost of our own self esteem, heres a fact for ya…..

You cannot

Buy self esteem on the internet or in shops
rely on others to support or maintain your own self esteem!

You can though

Start learning to accept who you are, you are more than your looks, that loved ones love you regardless of how you look
Start to see all them marketing messages and see then for what they are

Stop seeking approval from society to determine what’s socially perfect and what’s not !

#haveawordwitheesen AND ITS FREE – well you can pay me if you like, cheques and transfers accepted

Start listening to yourself!
Nurture yourself
Pick up a book, start to learn how to look after yourself
Do things you enjoy
Make time for you
Be selfish, it’s ok to be selfish

 

Reflection #Having a word wi me sen

Recently, people have asked ‘how come you are so calm lately?’ I tell them, I’ve  started to ‘#Have a word wi me sen‘. Yep a standard Yorkshire slang, but very true.

Sounds simple, eh? and they are like ‘eh?, I don’t get ya?‘ , of course you ‘don’t get me, and thats the point, I’d started not getting  Me sen, I felt lost and felt like I didn’t know who I was anymore’!

Its hard to explain (and I am trusting by that doing this blogging malarky, might will help me understand more)

Let me be clear though – The happier, less stressed Tracey, didn’t happen over night, I didn’t wake up and think ‘thats it! im going to change‘  have been contemplating “well procrastinating” and thinking for quite a while, in fact far longer than I care to admit. Because thats all I had been doing for a few years, is ‘fucking think’.  Now don’t get me wrong I’ve been keeping busy, working hard, achieving great work, going on nice holidays, making time for me best friends, but thats all I have been doing.

BUT I’ve still done nothing, not achieved something on a deeper level, I can only describe it as ‘losing me MOJO’ 

And its not for the one of trying,  I get all fired up saying, ‘right thats it, I’m going to run everyday now‘ OR ‘I‘m going to stop eating crap at the weekend’ OR ‘I’m not taking on anymore SHIT at work anymore’  you name it I have said many a time,  ‘THATS IT’ but then the burning ember, soon dies again and when I does, im back to square one feeling more of a ‘fucking failure’ AND the procrastination cycle starts again…

Whats different though this time, is that I am using my thinking to question some of my under lying, long term beliefs and values! anyone can think, you can think until the cows come home. What  I’m talking about is thinking a little deeper AND you don’t need to sign up to meditation classes or turn vegan ‘YES’ I said it ‘Fuck me EVERY ONE (well not everyone) is fucking Vegan, its the new ‘in thing’ and we have got vegan friendly restaurants popping up all over to accommodate this new band of  ‘VEGANS’. AND no,  before I carry on ranting, I genuinly have nothing personal against the people who have chosen to go vegan, BUT I do question their motives, think the majority of this vegan movement is more about whats ‘cool’ its the new socially acceptable ‘in thing’. I question, ‘do people actually really want or like being vegan, or are they doing it because their mate at uni is doing it?’ I quite frankly ‘don’t know the answer’ What I would question though is,  do these individuals understand, or accept these beliefs and values? or are they just copying other people, based on their underlying belief (based on what they see) that the other person, ‘seems so much happier than me, it must be since they turned vegan’. if I turn vegan then I’ll be happy like them. AGAIN, forgive me, I started using vegans as an example and it turned into a FULL BLOWN RANT.


Right back to me,  I digress – This is my own personal journey and my hopes and aspirations are my own and unique to me,  so me telling people what to think is a complete waste of time. all I have done is start to question my own beliefs and values. whilst I can tell myself that I’m unique and I will tell you ‘I  don’t care what other people think, this is actually a lie, because I do, more than you will ever know’  AND thats my friend is whats changed.

Ive stopped comparing myself to others, well im learning and trying NOT to.

Ive been taking just a little time out of my day ‘for me’ whether thats sitting here writing every morning, going out at lunch time, for a walk and a brows around the shops, instead of sitting and committing ALL of my working day ‘to work’ – I’ve learned that work isn’t a competition, but I feel like for the past few years  I have allowed it to feel like that. I have been putting myself forward vying for 1st place everytime time. AND let me tell you “its fucking exhausting’ 

I haven’t signed up to any program, I’ve just signed up to putting myself first AND thats been the most empowering thing I have done for AGES and guess what? ‘ITS FUCKING FREE, Yes I said it FREE…

So fuck you slimming world, taking my cash every week to tell me I’m a failure, because I gained or stayed the same (ps I don’t do slimming world, but thats what I think it does to people AND they pay for the fucking privalige)

FUCK you alcohol I don’t need you to have a good time, I can still be the same sarcastic twat with out you thanks very much!

“So, whats helped me learn this? it has been going back to basics, back to ME, I had lost the ability to ‘listen to myself’ to ‘trust myself’ to ‘value me and what I want’ to ‘stop putting other peoples feeling first’ (that doesn’t mean I don’t care about anyone, far from it)”

Right, morning rant outta way, I’ve got some ‘real work to do’ (see the sarcasm)  and I’m looking forward to going, because I am going into work knowing that whilst I love my job, im good at my job, thats all it is, it doesn’t define who I AM, it defines me a little but its NOT ALL ABOUT WORK. so I am defiantly signing off, see you next time, unless I decide to get pissed tonight and crawl back into me shallow shell again….

 

Love Tracey x

# Had a word wi me sen

 

This blog isn’t about weight loss, if I’m honest, I don’t remember the last time I got on the scales, because quite simply ‘what I saw every time fucking depress -ed me’  When did I start measuring my self worth based on a couple of digits? (actually when you think about it, it is rather insane)

Its my second week of getting up at 5.45am, getting me kit on, ‘its not a good look, let me tell thee’ I bang my Spotify on, set me run keeper app and I’m off. – sounds so easy and simplistic doesn’t it, but I’ll let you into a secret, this is a BIG deal for me, when I started running last year, it was winter, so them early morning runs were mainly in the dark ‘This was why I ran in the morning, because it felt more comfortable’ because no one would see me AND me kangaroo pouch bouncing up and down. However the more I ran, the lighter the mornings became, the more comfortable I became ‘in my own skin’ I love jogging pass the morning dog walkers saying ‘Morning’ and no longer worry about what they think about me, I mean really who gives fuck? well I did, but my point is, I don’t know these people personally, so why am I allowing a complete stranger make me feel ashamed, well in theory I wasn’t, it wasn’t them, it was me….

I’ve started to love going for me early morning run, this morning I did just under 2 miles (1.93 to be exact) when I was training for the half marathon, I was happy with the 12 minute miles I was attaining. When I decided to start going for a morning runs again, I set off out of the house and headed up my road (small incline) and did a fast walk, to warm myself up, at the top, I upped me pace into a gentle jog.  I remember thinking ‘fuck me I’m unfit again, that didn’t take long!’ But then I reminded myself (Had a word) ‘Christ Tracey, gi thee sen a break, you’ve just been on holiday, drinking everyday sunbathing, do pretty much fuck all exercise, why are you surprised it feels uncomfortable’ 

With that in mind, I decided to just take me time (after all its not a fucking race)    at the top of the road, the road starts to decline ‘great a reprieve, now that feels better’ at the bottom of the road, I take a left turn, another hill but, I reason with myself its shorter and if I take my time, I’ll soon be back onto flat surface.

Half way up, I’m breathing and sweating like a fucking xxxxxx (xxxxx is what really wanted to say, but it was highly inappropriate). so here I am pushing through it! I’m telling me sen ‘I don’t like this, this is not, nice!’ then I had a light bulb moment ‘WALK THEN, ya fucking weirdo’ simple eh? after all:

  • its not a race
  • im not holding anyone back, I’m on my own
  • I look round and the views are impressive – take the views in, take a mental photo

I’m supposed to be enjoying this – well I am now I’m walking, I actually started to laugh at myself, if anyone had seen me they would have thought I was a weirdo too!


I picked up my pace again, nice and steady and started to get me own little swagger on, and continued at that pace all the way home. I get home check my runkeeper app, 14 minute miles. ‘I’ll take that’ because you know what? as soon as I #had a word wi me sen, I loved every minute of it! I didn’t lose half a stone, i certainly didn’t look healthier (in fact, I looked like xxxxxxxxxx) I’m still not saying it!

BUT I felt fucking amazing, sometimes I do feel like shouting stop the fucking world I want to get off!’ I sat on the back garden, wi me black coffee and vape, making the most of the post exercise come down, that natural high, you get after doing something slightly energetic and I felt bloody amazing, OMG i am having a day ja view moment… ‘Ive been writing this blog before, weird, but a nice weird. 

Anyway, back to me blog, the point I am trying to make is, it was a subtle reminder to self that, I can make anything as hard or as easy as I want.

‘Do I want to measure a successful run by how many minute miles I did? or how hard it felt? Nah do I fuck,

The only person putting pressure on myself was ‘ME’. Does it matter how fast, or how far I ran, at least I DID IT and now I’m sat here at my little Ikea desk writing about it and sharing it with you, before have to get of me ass and to work.

Love Tracey x

1st EVER Blog

HI guys

Im Tracey, im 48 years old, I live with my long term partner, also  affectionately known as ‘Pat the Twat‘ . I also have two grown up daughters, Lauren 26 and Danielle 31.

At the beginning of the year I think I had a mid life crisis! more like started to ‘Have a word wi me sen‘. I’ve lived a very varied life (will share more about me as we go on in the blogs) some of it was horrific,  embarrassing,  exciting, rewarding some of it has been brilliant!

As well as dealing with my own addiction in my early twenties, in my thirties I found myself caring, supporting and losing my ‘Bad Ass’ dad to alcoholism.

During this time, when I couldn’t sleep, so rather than toss and turn in bed, i’d get me sen up,  go downstairs, open my A4 notebook and write down all the shit that was keeping me awake. (Its fair to say there is a-lot of shit in those books)

I’ve always wanted to write, but to be quite Frank ‘Im not the best at English, my grammar is crap, I like to swear, and I don’t know what im writing about most of the time’ but this writing malarky is like fucking itch that won’t go away.  Before dad passed, many a time people have said ‘you could/should write a book’ , writing a book sounds ‘Fucking brilliant doesn’t it?’. 

‘Of course it sounds brilliant’ I’ve even started writing the book (three un-edited chapters) I have the title for the book and everything! what you don’t know is I started writing the fucking thing over 12 years ago!


So, back to the mid life crisis. don’t asked me where it came from? but I started  to have some rather depressing thoughts, I’m like thinking about the fact  ‘I’m 50 in two years’ thats three quarters into my life!

Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t feel physically old, I’m fit (I swapped the fags for my trusty E-cig two years ago) I like running (well a gentle jog) but the bottom line is whilst my body is showing signs of ageing and I’ve come to accept that the ‘bastard cellulite’ aint going any where any time soon! there is still life in the ‘Old Bitch’ . I’ve been procastinating about actually doing something for years with this writing, I  remind myself constently ‘when are you going to do summit?’  For my 40th I even had a tatoo saying ‘Procrastination is the thief it time’ as a reminder, and here I am eight years later, still doing the same as I have always done ‘fucking procrastinating about procrastinating’

I visulised myself being present at my fiftieth birthday party, celebrating a GREAT life, but secretly thinking to myself  ‘your all gob!, you still haven’t done anything, about that book, what a fucking waste’  

Bottom line is ‘I aint getting any younger’ so I have three options, I can either

  1. Shut up – stop moaning
  2. Put up – accept it
  3. Or do fucking something about it

So, guys heres my attempt of blogging trying to make sense of my 48 years in preparation for me 50th and also to help get me writing that ‘Bastard book’

Wish me luck, love Tracey

1st June 2018