Everywhere

I see you everywhere.

Every bike rider who sweeps passed on the street turns my head. The confident ones, no matter their colour, make me double take to see if it is you.

When my apartment is buzzed, I answer and wait to hear that it is you. It never is. There is a gasp of hope and anticipation and then a thump as my heart is bitch slapped by reality.

You are gone.

That is OK.

I'd rather you be happy.

I lie in bed and close my eyes and imagine you sleeping next to me. With my insomnia, I used to watch you sleep. Your eyelids would flutter and you'd sigh at whatever you were dreaming. I'd kiss you and like the kissing ninja you are, you'd kiss me back mid-sleep as if you saw me coming every time. Those were the moments I spent with you that you didn't spend with me, consciously.

For all the drama and the pain that you caused, I will confirm that it was worth it.

Thank you for the ride of my life. Thank you for the first true love of my life.

I'd change nothing. Nothing.

Now, go do amazing things and know I love you.

Stoopid immune system.

Not My Father's Son: A Memoir

Book 23 of 2015 is Not My Father's Son: A Memoir by Alan Cumming.

I had no idea who this guy was. I picked up the book because I liked his hair and it was rated 4+ stars.

Little did I know that his brokenness would give me freedom and peace that I wouldn't have known before I read this book.

Life shits on you. It does. You can either work through it and be mindful or let it own you. Alan Cummin made me realise that facing all my demons was well worth the effort.  Sure, it will take me a very long time but I will get to a place where my existence is good... or better.

4 floggings out of 5.

Should I read this? Only if you like memoirs. This is a very good one.

What did I learn? They can beat you and you will still survive.

She eats the top of the watermelon

There are things that always make me think of my mother but nothing strikes me harder and brings a bigger smile than when I cut up a wedge of watermelon.

My mother is the most generous person I have ever known. I doubt I will meet anyone who gives more. Sometimes it frustrates me that she gives to her last drop and then some but that is I guess what makes her, her.

As a child, there was only ever one thing that my mother ever took for herself that she didn't sacrifice for others. Take in to account a story I was told as a child about my mum coming home from her first day at school and telling her father that a boy there didn't have a pencil. My very wise grandfather told her that next time she should break her pencil in half and give it to the person in need. I heard this story many times but what taught me generosity was my mother's ability to give and give and give and only feel happy as a result.

Now, my mother is known for being the best maker of fruit salad. She cooks many things but her tropical fruit salad is the perfect mix of everything. I've tried to imitate her but it always ends up with too much mango (I know, is that possible?) or skewed to one flavour. She gets it right.

Since I was a babe, I've watched her carefully and quite deliberately cut up each and every fruit that went in to the fruit salad. The right amount of kiwi fruit mixed with mango and a splash of passionfruit and then watermelon and berries and whatever was in season.

Usually, you buy a wedge of watermelon and not a whole melon as it is too much to consume before it goes to waste. The top of the wedge is the centre of the watermelon. It is the softest and sweetest part. The heart. The reward. No part of a watermelon tastes better.

My mother unwraps the thick shop style plastic from the wedge and cuts the thick green and white rind away. She then, with the flick of a wrist, cuts the top of the wedge out and slowly eats it. After she is done consuming the prize of the melon, she cuts up the rest and hands it to the bowl that holds the perfect salad.

She always smiles as she does this. Sometimes, my sister and I would ask for some and of course, she gave us some but it was the one thing she always took a part of for herself.

I can not remember one other thing or time that my mum ever took the best part for herself. She always happily gave the best to others. It was her culture and her upbringing. It is the best part of her.

Tonight as I cut up a slice of watermelon, I put the nicest parts aside for my mother. She is not here but those pieces are hers. In what is our culture, I will throw some of the best pieces off the balcony in honour of her not being here but being in my thoughts.

Maybe that makes no sense but it is how I will silently show I love her and know what it means for her to be here. It means she gets the top of the wedge of watermelon.

It was her one thing. That one thing she gave herself first. It is the part I will always throw a piece of away for her, forever.

How 2014 Saw Me Break and Rebuild

2014 was a very good and a very bad year for me. However much I enjoy the journey, I will always be a destination person and look at how things ended. 2014 ended very well for me and sees me entering 2015 at the top of my game in my career, with my friendships and healthwise.

Amongst my friends, I am known for my first world problems. They to me seem like a very big issue but to others they would be great problems to have. This last year of my life has involved me getting some perspective and accepting that my life is too good to complain about. There is no such thing as perfection and being upset with myself for not achieving that is plain silly. This is something that I still have to remind myself of but less often than I did in the past.

I always see life as being made up of three different and very distinct segments: Work, Love and Health. So here they are in retrospective.

Work

No means no

After burning out at Microsoft because of my inability to say NO, I learnt the best lesson of my life and have developed the ability to refuse to do every single thing I am asked to do. That is the best skill I have learnt in the past 12 months.

You don't pay me enough to... oh wait, yes you do

2014 saw me work in 3 different contracts delivering software in the biometrics and security space. I was paid very well, in part because I am hyper aware of my worth and because I've become a shit hot negotiator. A friend and ex-colleague reminded me of one of her favourite quotes of mine when I was being asked to do something really silly at work. I said "You don't pay me enough to do... oh wait, yes you do." People do have a price apparently or at least I do :)

The Rule of Three

If you've ever bitched to me about work then you will have had to listen to Damana's Work Rule of Three. For me to stay in a job, I must have two of these three things: Good People; Good Pay; and Good Work. If I have three out of three then I am sublimely happy, which is what I had at Oakton. If I have two then I can keep working happily for a long period of time. If I have one then I leave.

If I am unhappy at work, I try to fix the problem myself. Then I ask for help from a colleague, then from a manager and then their manager. If I can not find a way to fix what I am disliking then I leave. Life is linear and you only do it once. Don't work in a job you don't like. That is why I left the ATO.

Love

Circles within circles

Apparently all human beings have circles of people who hold differing levels of importance in their lives. I have worked out that my family and three of my good friends are in my inner most circle. Everyone else I know (and Stephen Fry) is in the next circle out. The rest of the universal set is full of people I don't know. It used to be more complex than that but I've simplified it. Only those in my inner circle get to know the details of my life and the rest can read about the less important parts of my life on social networks or my blog. My aim for 2015 will be to head for Dunbar's Number or about 200 people in my life.

You don't get to choose them

They always say that you don't get to choose family but if I had the choice, I would have still picked these guys. Through everything I do, my parents and my sister support me in every way I could wish for. They are the kindest souls and the best people I know. On those days when it feels the universe is kicking my arse, I know they love me. There is never a doubt ever. That can get you through anything. Anything. I chose them.

Don't call me Goddess

At the beginning of 2014, I dealt with the most difficult men I have ever had to deal with. My apartment was broken in to and one of my laptops and some underwear was stolen. The guy who did this was simultaneously sending me anonymous bouquets of roses and hate email with pictures of me with my eyes blacked out. He was tracked down via an online florist and spoken to informally by police. No one finger printed my apartment. There is no CSI Canberra. He only stopped because they warned him off. It seems that the police can not do anything unless you are violently raped or murdered.

Meanwhile, I had to deal with a senior colleague whose obsession with curves ended in me talking to our boss. The following three months saw this colleague make my life a living hell until I found a new role. I am very proud that I stayed strong through it and delivered my project early and well before leaving to a job that has been one of the best I've ever had in my life. Lemons to lemonade. In this time, I learnt not to trust a man who calls you "goddess" and quotes Princess Bride at you, AT WORK.

And people ask me why I'm single.

Health

Knock me down and I'll kick the shit out of you

After spending years getting my mental fitness back, being mugged in August 2014 set me back quite a way. Not so much that depression will return but enough that I still feel angry some days and can't always fix it. Each day is better than the last and knowing is was PTSD to start with and expecting it to happen made it easier to deal with it. The tools I have learnt through years of therapy were my saviour. This self rescuing princess totally saved herself.

The mugger was caught last October and charged with mine and another mugging. Although I don't remember his face at all or whether he was black or white and a shade of lavender, it is good to know he is being made to face what he did. I kicked him so hard in the knee when he was standing on my stomach and pulling at my handbag that he limped away in pain. Even if it was the fight bit of fight-or-flight that did it, I wasn't a victim and have proven to myself that in a stressful moment, I can be strong.

Let's get physical

This is one thing I'm still not happy about. After the mugging, I put on three to four kilograms. It has been hard to get rid of it but I am determined to do so. This is my focus for 2015. In 2013 I lost 11kg. In 2015, I intend to achieve a similar goal.

Be still, my beating heart

My emotional health is in a place that I feel safest at the moment. Having finally felt love for someone for the first time since my divorce, it was an interesting year. The pain of heart break was nowhere near as bad as my divorce was. I have learnt something very interesting about myself though. Once I have loved someone (friend or lover), I will always love them in some way. Him, I miss. He is in my thoughts every day but not voluntarily. He sneaks in to my head when I am doing things. It may always be like this but that is ok. It wasn't meant to be this time but I will still always feel that passion and compassion for him that I felt when we were together. Yes, yes, even though he was a complete jerk to me in the end. The heart wants what it wants. Stoopid heart.

2014

In summary, I worked 3 contracts, fell in love for the first time since my divorce, survived and thrived after being violently mugged, made great friends, loved and honoured my wonderful family, forgave myself my mistakes, made good choices and lived the happiest year of my life so far.

I am well proud of myself and my life in 2014. I did that one well.

2015

My aim to maintain my mindfulness and be kind to myself. With a new job, a new country and a new journey around the sun, I anticipate that the year I turn 39 will be my year. There will be awful times. There will be amazing times. There will be absolutely uneventful times and that's ok because I'm finally getting good and this. Participation, Passion and Peace are my words for this year of my life.

Let's do this shit.

Acceptance Criteria

In software engineering we have a way of working that we refer to as "agile." It means that we behave in a way that makes it easier for us to adapt to change.

I often joke that I work as an agent of change so that I can make others change and not myself :)

There is an idea we work around that says that before we start any task, we must define upfront how we will know that a task is completed.

We call this the Acceptance Criteria.

Today, I applied this concept to a life situation and it helped me accept that what I thought was a case of friendship was really no more than a case of me being played.

As readers of this blog well know, I can be easily be convinced that 'gullible' has been removed from the Oxford English Dictionary. This often underwrites my tendency to believe people when they tell me something and that they are not lying to me. As a logician, I see the flaw in this statement immediately but apparently not in reality.

The acceptance criteria today involved checking what it means for someone to actually care for me. A friend for instance. A person who cares about how they make me feel and care that I am not made sad by their actions. A person who takes the time to understand where I am coming from. A person who gives me the benefit of the doubt. A person who would not act against me, no matter the situation.

Application of said criteria resulted in a fail.

I am a good friend. I am learning that I can not expect that from everyone.

Benefit of the Doubt

I have been good at giving people the benefit of the doubt lately. No matter the situation, I have been able to find it in myself to look through the anger or negativity or coldness and see that there is a person feeling something behind that aggression.

Not everything makes sense to me. The recent events have left me sad that my privacy could be so violated and then those around me think ill of me.

Sometimes, you can't control what is happening to your life and you just have to accept it. This is one of those times.

The cruel words. The false accusations. Being discarded and rejected as if I did something wrong, has been a learning experience. It is most well learnt when you realise that neither you nor the person angry with you did anything wrong. Someone else just kicked you both.

Oh well, I never expected more than friendship from my friend. I got much less and it all wrapped in blame.

Life is teaching me something. I'm learning. Somehow however, it feels like I strayed in to the wrong lecture room of life this day.

Now to move on.

Always feel compassion but move on.

Violation of Volition

The preceding ten days has been a maelstrom of insanity accented with violations of my space and time. Yes, there have been major multi-dimensional offences committed.

The most distressing moment was when I realised that someone had complete access to my online presence, my online information and consequently my inner most thoughts via one of my laptops that had been stolen.

I have a habit that I developed mainly through work that has me writing an email that lets me honestly express my thoughts and feelings on a matter without any intention of ever sending it. Just writing it down gets it out of my system and I don't dwell on it anymore. It is always more brutally honest than I would ever be in reality. My email drafts folder is my Picture of Dorian Gray.

There are rules to this that I always honour in case by some cruel twist of fate, the dreaded email is sent:

• Never address the email to anyone;
• Do not mention the name of the person it is for; and
• Delete the email after a couple of weeks.

With the recent theft of one of my laptops, I have learnt a few lessons:

• Always set your laptop up to require password access;
• Encrypt your drives; and
• When a laptop is stolen, change all your passwords immediately.

The more recent set of rules is a result of the said theft of one of my computers on Thursday afternoon.

Yes, insurance covers it and it was reported to the police and all that. I am fine, no harm except that I now must lockdown my online presence and seriously reconsider my venting mechanisms.

Since Friday morning, I have received a few emails from people who were surprised to check their electronic post and find that they had grumpy or delightful or confusing notes from me. Luckily, none of the people who got these letters were the intended recipients so they laughed it all off and complimented me on my ability to insult or wow a person with such eloquence and lack of profanity.

There were (until I deleted them all yesterday afternoon), just under a dozen emails in my drafts folder that consisted of voluminous amounts of my thoughts on different subjects. Nothing terrible but nothing I actually ever wanted to share.

It seems that the person who took my laptop is the same person who has been making my life very difficult this last few weeks and finally got some ammunition to use against me. And boy did they use it.

So, the lesson here is to never write it down if you never want anyone to see it. Keep the thoughts in your head or whisper them to your pet rock but don't put them in gmail and then leave an unlocked laptop around to be stolen by a creep on a mission. It makes it far too easy for someone to screw with your life.

Now, with passwords changed, property secured and draft email folder empty, I shall continue my life and hope that no more damage has been done than the Send button being hit on a few ephemeral tanty-driven electronic brain dumps.

Dark and Lovely

Characters. There is an album that I remember from when I was in my formative years. It really did shape me in ways. Stevie Wonder can do that to you. He changes the way you think. Music does.

If you have not heard it then you should take the trip, and it is a trip.

There is not a song on this album that can't teach you something.

Getting Back Up Again

It is raining in Canberra as I write this. Having grown up in the tropics, rain to me is warm and welcoming. It washes away the day and pushes back the heat. This feels like the right time to sit down and take in the last few months.

As one of the most stressful episodes of my life comes to an end, I am learning to accept that I can survive pretty much anything that life throws at me. I can survive it and not fall apart.

The thing is that surviving doesn't mean that I prospered during that time. It doesn't mean I felt happy every second. It doesn't mean I smiled and was thankful for what got me there.

There is a powerful myth in our society that dictates that happiness is something we must feel 100% of the time and if we aren't then something is wrong. That is wrong and causes a lot of self-doubt when people have a bad time. They tend to think that any emotion that isn't under-pinned by happiness is a fractured and bruised existence.

Feeling other emotions is not a failing. It is life. It is normal.

As long as there is a general happiness and more good moments than bad then I am satisfied that my life is going well.

In July, I experienced something that no woman should ever have to face. I found myself in a position that I never expected and realised that those who were obliged to protect me were unwilling to do so. That shook my view of work and life and people, in general.

The following weeks saw me slow my life down and finally stand still, in some hope that everything would stop spinning. The weeks lead to months and I didn't start working again until one week ago.

It isn't easy for anyone to not work for that long but if I hadn't had that time to rest and recover, I wouldn't be so energised and ecstatic about what I find myself doing now. Burn-out from over work and the horror of July meant that I spent weeks at my parent's house sleeping and trying to get my brain going again.

It wasn't like when I had severe clinical depression. It was nothing like that actually. There were shitty moments but it never felt so hopeless like falling in to a bottomless pit. It was tough though and there were nights for months where I slept with the lights on in my bedroom or didn't sleep until the Sun came up. For some reason, day time seemed safer. That or I was becoming a vampire. I do sparkle.

Anyone who has been through really bad patches will tell you that being in a rut isn't the most horrible part. The being in it part is something you can accept as what you are going through. It is falling in and climbing out that are the most challenging moments. No, not moments. Moments are short and fleeting. These are periods of time and everything slows down like when you stack a push bike and see the ground coming at you.

Right now, I am climbing out. Back at work and thriving as part of a real team where I feel I belong. I'm not allowed to work more than 40 hours a week which leaves me 20 more hours for life that the last job didn't. Yeah, no more 240 hour months.

Restabilising takes time. My new routine is being established. My old friends and new colleagues and awesome family and wonderful social circle are helping me bound back to a semblance of a normal life. Soon it will actually be a normal life. Accepting that I am no longer tripping on every tree root as I run blindly from the wolves is not as easy as I'd hoped. I keep checking for the wolves when a granny with a chin walks by. Sometimes, I even lose it and say I'll just give up and not participate anymore but I wake up the next day and I do.

So, I'm getting there. There are so many people I have to take aside and thank for holding my head above water. There are others who don't deserve to be mentioned or even to have a thought wasted on them. They don't matter. Only the good ones do.

And I'm a good one too. Just one who is trying to get the rhythm back in my life.

Now you're just somebody that I used to know

There is a song bouncing off the walls at the moment by Gotye called Somebody that I used to know. My need to listen to it over and over again comes late at night at that time when it takes clenching teeth to keep my eyes open.

I was sitting at my work desk on the 22nd of September wondering what I'd forgotten to do. Did I miss someone's birthday? Did I have an appointment for a pedi or a massage? Was there a bill due?

I forgot it again. Even after toughening myself up a couple of weeks in advance for what would have been my fifth wedding anniversary or our 14th year together, I still forgot.

Right now, that seems to be a good thing but I can't lie. When I did remember, it ached. Ached through my entire body. Skin, organs, limbs and the split ends lying on the floor of my hairdresser's floor.

There may always be a pain there... where he used to be. Even now he's just somebody that I used to know.

Officially Old

As my 35th birthday approaches, I wonder what age is "officially old".

It keeps moving as I age but I wonder if I should be looking back and remembering when I was young. Instead, I feel at my peak each year. As if there is so much more ahead of me than behind me.

My mother just turned 63 years old. She is sharp, vibrant, beautiful and brilliant. Nothing is out of her reach. She is writing a book, teaches 5th and 6th grade, tweets and facebooks and wants to go to see Janet Jackson with me in November. She isn't old to me.

Maybe it's 80 or 90 years old but then there is my grandfather who was born in 1900. I met him when he was 96 years old. He died at just over 100. He had all his own teeth. He said it was because he always chewed sugarcane. It's fibrous and cleans even with it natural sweetness. He chewed beetle nut and walked over ten kilometers each day. He walked slow but he walked. He laughed at jokes and smiled at our youthful wit. He wasn't old to me.

Maybe it isn't about an actual age. Maybe it's about your attitude to life.

Recently I met an amazing man who inspired me to see life as wonderful. He taught me to not treat anything as a tragedy, no matter how Shakespearean it seemed. He was my muse, yet he condemned himself to the life he entered via an early contract promised to honour. It was sad to watch. He was my friend and taught me so much but partially through knowing that I never wanted to sacrifice my promise and happiness for an earlier agreement. I never want to be like him.

Life is following your passion. Finding it. Naming it. Living it. Holding it. Pushing it.

Promise me something. Promise me that YOU will be everything you can be. That you will follow the amazing that you are. Hold the hand that takes you home. Live your dream.

Standing Before the Wizard

How gingerly I walk the tight rope that runs across the gauntlet of my chiseled ethos and the driving need to not harm others.

While Olga and I joke of our constant struggle with buyers remorse, the actual struggle that I have faced this week has been one of cognitive dissonance.

Instead of my strong ideals pushing me to follow a course of action, I have found that two opposing powerful beliefs have clashed so violently, I am left in a state of real and present anxiety. Last night was the first time in my life that I lay in bed and experienced true paralysing anxiety. The kind that leaves you unable to breathe and without a rational exit.

The Internet poses many interesting questions and leaves us open to a myriad of situations that would never have existed in a world of pen pals and rotary dial telephones. There are benefits and losses. As a scientist, there seems to me to be endless positives to this futurist Jetson-style world we live in. I long to look outside and see flying cars but then the reality of 3D conceptualisation crashes head on in to the fact that most people have trouble merging in to one lane, as they drive on a linear surface in their 1 tonne boxes of steel reinforced status anxiety.

Everything is accelerated. Faster. Dizzier. Manic. We love it but oh how we cherish the moment it all stops. The duplicity of our stop-go lives leaves me in a state of confusion, often. Then I sit down and wait, think and process then understand the source and meaning of my life momentum.

Last month, an old colleague touched base with me. We often share facebook comments or take a passing glance as the photos posted on flickr. We worked together a long time ago at Quarantine, in Canberra. That was a place full of old guys who had moulded in to furniture and found young upstarts like me too energetic at times. This guy was part of the furniture.

He was fun to talk to online. We even had a coffee while I was visiting the capital recently but the real meat of the story comes in the dark menacing form of the online shadow. A person who sees you are suffering or in a bad place, from your mood online and decides to exploit that for their own gain. I have seen this multiple times and mainly during my deepest depression when people saw I was at my weakest. Luckily, I had good people around me and although I made errors in judgement, there was nothing that caused too much pain. Ask anyone on the Internet and they will have a story of duplicity and betrayal for you.

At first I wondered about the reasoning behind the behaviour of these people. What makes someone prey on another member of their species? What perks up inside them when they see someone who they perceive as weak? What is the reward they seek at the end of the hunt?

The last question is interesting. The WHY of it all.

From my recent experience with a shadow, it was some kind of moral test. A game of positioning and baiting. Pulling me in to a situation and then abandoning me at the point where I stood alone before the Wizard. I am still not sure if I passed or failed the test. What I do know is that as soon as I made the decision to no longer play, I was answered with boredom and disinterest.

So, this will happen. It will happen with people who you once knew. That's a great way to make contact. The best way to respond is to refuse to play the game. Follow your moral compass. Trust your gut. Make decisions based in thought and not reaction to sensory stimulation.

Honour yourself.

Soul Mates

I will quote anyone if they help argue my point. In this case, it is Samantha in Sex and the City 2. Carrie compliments her for not dumping her friends and going off with a handsome man. She laughs a haughty laugh and says something about how they worked out long ago that men and babies don't matter because the four of them are soul mates.

It wasn't until I heard that a second time that I realized that I have soul mates. People who fill in the cracks when we are are together and make everything feel complete and whole again. People who act as scaffolding until we can hold ourselves up.

There is a corny story that talks of people existing as a perfect vase long ago. One day, the vase shattered in to many tiny pieces. In time as we live and are reborn, we will find the pieces that fit in to us and make us whole again. They are our soul mates.

Do I believe it? Yes, to an extent the idea is good. There are people everywhere but only a few that we fit in to and them in to us. We may travel a million paths and never find that one or few people who make us feel complete. Those who we didn't know were missing until they appeared. Not something we lack that is fulfilled but something that compliments and increases who we already are.

So often, life is either a compromise to accept people in to our lives or a series of shut doors to ensure we don't let the wrong people in. It may even become the case that we reject so many people by default that we don't let certain _right_ people in. I don't believe this is the case with so-called soul mates.

If someone is meant to be in your life then it doesn't matter if they come along too late or too under the radar to register at first because they will continue to reappear until one of you realises.

Is this the same as 'true love' and 'forever friends'? No. I'm not sure those exist. They are fluffy concepts wrapped in Hallmark and coated with pink fairy floss.

You laugh and say soul mates are the same thing. Maybe I'm aging and becoming more idealistic but I'm not convinced. There is too much evidence in my life that says that not making early sacrifices will result in true friendship found. It's a combination of waiting, trusting, not trying and always being yourself. Then when you find it, there is no real effort required to allow it to happen. It simply works. It makes sense. It is easy.

My only active advice is to not let it go. Hold on to it as other forces will surely push to re-sever. Not in a way that forces it because that can cause stress to but more in a way that is conscious and mindful of it's value.

Value the valuable. Somethings lost are wounds we my never recover from. At least for a few more lives, when we attempt to find them again.

Your style is you

People talk about style as though it is something that you can go out and buy. An acquirable commodity that will appear if you follow a recipe in a fashion magazine. An emulation of the hottest star.

Style is none of those things.

Style is the ability to find a look that compliments your character and expresses who you are.

It is a personal thing. A me thing. A comfortable thing.

When you feel at ease in your clothes and don't trip on your shoes, you are there. Just be yourself and dress in what makes you feel good. That is your style.

Your style is you.

Trust Degraded

One of my New Year's Resolution was to be more open to different kinds of people in the world. To not judge and reject people because they failed to meet a set criteria for those I would associate with.

For the last three months, that attitude has seen an array of characters waltz in and out of my life. It has to be said that I have never made a more stupid of harmful resolution in my entire life.

It was a mistake.

I have been used, abused, fooled, embarrassed, humiliated, hurt and brutally re-educated by the lowest forms of life, crawling this pretty enough planet.

Men have told me all I want to hear and then turned on me. Women have gained my trust, only to betray it so easily.

Wow! What a seedy world there is underneathe that one that I inhabit. There be dragons.

Resolutions are a good idea because they give you a new set of rules by which to try new things and reform your life. They don't always work. It's not often they fail so miserably for me but I guess that happens.

My trust has been degraded but I am learning more about myself and the environment around me. Is this a bad thing? Yes and no. It menas I will be less trusting but that is a good thing. Am I learning? Yes and no. Some of the things I am learning suck though and I wish I didn't have to suffer so much to gain the knowledge. Has this changed me for the better? Yes and no. I see that there is so much bad in the world but the contrast has made me appreciate the good.

For the record, this resolution has stopped dead. There will be no more accepting idiots for who they are and thinking they are deep-down good types. Nope, first impressions. Trust my instincts. Be less bleeding heart and more realistic.

If only you could hear what I hear

Maybe I have a trusting face.

Maybe I am so high disclosure that people feel they know me and can trust me.

Maybe people feel for me and want to tell me that they know how it feels.


In the last few days, I have heard so many stories about people being bullied. They were children or adults. They were friends or they were partners. They were afraid and they got strong.

Thank you for your stories. It takes a lot of voice these memories when the people who did these things made us feel worthless. It takes strength to keep going and throw away those horrible times and forget the words that hurt so much for so long.

Keep being good people. Don't let bed people make you less than what you are.

Freer or Fear

I'm in a strange predicament.

After cutting off the axis of idiocy, who abused me the other night, I feel afraid.

Afraid that they will do something more. Something more frightening.

As for what, I don't quite know. Maybe turn up at my front door or send someone on their behalf. Maybe run in to me in the city and hurt me.

Hopefully, they are content with their emotional torture from the other night and will leave me be.

At present, I lock the door of the house when I'm both inside or away from home. I lock the car door as soon as I'm in it.

My heart beats a little faster when I see an old white Camry. I'm jumpy. Usually, I'm pretty blasé about everything. Not now.

I hope this feeling passes soon. The stress is very taxing.