They are the hunters we are the foxes

Been a very exhausting couple of weeks, without much forward progress in anything other than being shattered and overworked.

I think I prefer working night shift to day shift in ICU at work - mostly because you only have a couple of you on and you can run things your way. During the day there is certainly too many chiefs, and with everyone wanting you to do everything at once, you feel like an Indian who is due to be scalped - and almost welcome it. The day nurses are almost like a mafia - they are all lovely on their own but intimidating as a group. It is going to take me a while to settle in and get used to it I think. One more week of day shifts and then back to nights so that will be nice.

Weeks start off with good eating and then that falls by the wayside as I get more and more tired. I don't have the energy to cook when I get home, which of course is a catch 22 because better quality food would make me feel better, but it just takes more effort.

I am still trying to decide on a gym to join. It seems almost impossible to find one with classes that work in with my work hours - which is a pain. But then our roster should change early next year and things might work out better. I just feel lazy and unproductive and want to make that different.

Any other 80s kids (or older adults) out there that ever experienced Rawleigh's Anti-Pain Oil? Dad and I were discussing this today. It was total false advertising. I think the stuff was about 98% alcohol and it induced the most pain ever. Whenever we had cuts, scrapes, scratches, bites, etc, out came the "anti-pain oil". It got to a point where if you hurt yourself you hid it as best you could to avoid the burning pain of this so-called remedy. It doesn't appear you can buy it in NZ anymore thank goodness. I wonder if there were child abuse claims brought around because of parents torturing them with this shit. It wouldn't surprise me at all....

Like a termite that's choking on the splinters

We have these two weight bags at home - one is just 5kgs and is easy to lift and do things with. The other is 25kgs and I struggle to pick it up at all, let alone hefting it around. But it occurs to me that I carry around two of these bags every day in the form of extra weight, and it is horrid to think of the amount of stress and damage my body is under just having to live with this constantly.

I really am tired of feeling like shit every day. I am sick of constantly knocking stuff over because I am wider/bigger than a lot of spaces allow for, or than I calculate for.

I know I go through this phase of being sick of it every few months, but I really am aware now of the damage I am doing to myself. My joints hurt, my digestive system sucks, I do not sleep well, I have bugger all energy, and the list goes on. It's not going to be fixed overnight, but I CAN do this. I just have to want it enough for myself.

There is the added bonus of having recently seen people that I don't see very often, so I want to do it to get a 'Wow' the next time I see them. I don't even care how narcissistic that may seem....

Small steps. I am on night shift for the next few nights which is not the ideal time for making changes, but I can at least make sure that I eat better than I did during my last night shifts, and make small improvements to better myself each day.

I will try to post regarding this more frequently, to keep myself accountable. Please feel free to kick my arse if I seem to be regressing or giving up.

I hope that heaven is your resting place

Today, I attended the funeral of my (second) mum's father, Jacko. He was such a kind and gentle soul, who had an amazing sense of humour, and plenty of time for anyone and everyone. He was 89, so he got to live a full and long life, but that does not make it any less sad when you lose someone you love. And Jo is a daddy's girl, much like I am, so I could only imagine the pain and loss she was feeling. She herself thought she was prepared for it, as he has been in a home for the last five years, and she believed she was somewhat at peace at the idea of losing him, but it hit her harder than she expected.

As I was driving down to Otaki, I passed the hill where Barry's (Jo's first husband) ashes are scattered. This brought on my first tears of the day - it doesn't seem fair that Jo's husband should be gone before her father, and while I cried I told Barry to make sure he is there waiting to greet Jacko along with Mamma, who passed away just two years ago.

What made it worse for me, was that Dad didn't make it today. Him and Jo have been friends forever - their families grew up together on the same street, he was best friends with Barry, and so much more history than I care to go into, or I would be typing all day. When I saw Dad yesterday he told me he couldn't take the day off, and might not make it. I then asked if he had rung Jo at all since Monday and he replied "No but I did text her". Cue a small amount of rage. When Jo's mum passed away, he did the same. I think his reasoning was that he didn't want to ring her and bother her when she was going through so much. If a loved one of mine dies, and my closest friends only text me, and not ring or show up on my doorstep, I will be greatly hurt (and likely later pissed off, but definitely upset). So that fact that this time he didn't ring, and also couldn't organise a couple of hours off from work to come to the funeral? So mad on Jo's behalf, and on mine since I then had to pass on his "apologies". I never want to cause a look on someones face again like the look on Jo's face when I told her that Dad wasn't coming today. It almost broke my heart.

However it was a lovely service. A couple of Jacko's great grandkids were present, and they were playing with toys and generally being cute during the funeral, which was just perfect, and exactly what he would've wanted. It was nice to see everyone too. It definitely reminds you to make the most of your time with your loved ones, since you never know when it might be too late. And to spend time with family at happier times, and not just catching up with everyone at such a sad occasion.

I've been looking for a four leaf clover...

Well I have survived the first two weeks of the new job. I feel like I fit in well within the team, which was a big worry for me considering how convinced I am that nobody likes me. Everyone is lovely and easy to get along with, and so far it is pretty fun working with them. In a job so stressful and busy it is nice to work with great people.

The job itself is hard, and has been a lot of learning and thinking and it is tiring, but it is awesome to be back doing something I enjoy, despite how hard it is. I work long shifts, it is very physical, and you very often do not get a break or a chance to just stop and breathe, but it is worth it. I haven't been great with food habits for the last two weeks, while I try to get used to the new routine, but time to sort that out too. I have been wearing my FitBit and I am regularly doing at least 7000 steps a day, without any extra effort at all. A couple of days have been at the 10000 steps mark, so this will definitely help in the long term. I definitely do not miss sitting on my arse all day in an office job. I am shattered at the end of each day, but it helps me sleep well, and I feel like I am actually achieving something, and doing something worthwhile that I give a shit about, instead of the last couple of jobs that were fairly inconsequential.

I haven't had enough energy to do much else, or think about much else really. Focusing on proper nutrition will become important since I need to have the energy and well being to make it through each day. I will also join the workplace gym because the more I am moving, the more I want to move - which is a nice bonus :)

Also, this time next weekend I will be up in Auckland preparing to see Mr Justin Timberlake, which I am pretty damn excited about!

At most I'm sleeping all these demons away

You know when you break up with someone? And you know it's the best thing to have done for both of you in the long run. And it gets to where you actually really do know and feel that, and its absolutely the best thing to have done, and you don't miss them in the slightest. But then you hear via the grapevine that is Facebook, that said Ex has bought a house and has just got engaged. And even though you do not want any of that with him, you still feel sad because you do want all of that, and you don't have it. And that makes you just a teensy bit jealous because you get life-envy. But then you laugh at the poor woman for being stuck with said-ex. And you laugh some more because he has gotten yucky, and you know that even though you have put on weight, you are still prettier than his new girlfriend, and that makes you smile just a little.

We don't have to be ordinary

Well well. A wee bit has changed lately. Despite my absolute lack of confidence, I managed to score the job I was talking about in my last post. I have 2 weeks left of my current shitty job, a week off to prepare and panic, and then I get to be a vet nurse again. And back at Massey in the Vet Hospital where it all began, just as a staff member instead of a student this time. I am excited but nervousness is the primary emotion still at this stage!

Despite some of the staff remembering me, I can essentially reinvent myself to who I want to be. 3 weeks to form some healthy habits and prepare for a new life, as it were.

It was Jeremy's 11th anniversary this week. I thought I was feeling better about it. Actually, I know I am overall. I am much better these days at remembering him with more smiles than tears. That said, it hit me like a punch to the face on Thursday. I was grumpy as hell, and just overwhelmingly off all day. But it was better than the previous years. And he sent me a fantail to brighten my day on Friday.

I've also been to a yoga class (which reminded me how much I enjoy yoga, even though this was not really the right class for me), and a meditation class. Reminding myself to breathe and be more aware of myself is definitely good for my soul.

I am still having my down moments but overall feeling happier. Now I just need to stop letting other people have so much emphasis on how I feel about myself and remind myself that I am awesome and people should want to spend time with me. Its their loss if they don't and I should try not to take it so personally.

The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had

I am having a confidence crisis. In almost areas of my life.

I eat well for a few days or a week, and then I am convinced that I will fail, or that it won’t make any difference in my life even if I did succeed, and I give up and go back to bad habits.

I hate my job, but it is comfortable and I feel like I will never get a vet nursing job, because I have never had a full nursing job before and I no longer have half the skills required, and no one wants to take on a nurse who needs retraining in some areas. And I feel like I am crap at the job so it is easier to stay in a job I am good at that I don’t give a fuck about, rather than risk failing at something I want.

I think I am scared of going to Canada because it means so much to me, and I keep sabotaging my own saving efforts, because I don’t think I can hack it.

I feel like I have to be the one to initiate hanging out with friends a majority of the time, and then that they only spend time with me because I badger them into it. I think this is why I don’t have many friends anymore – is because I am so sure they are happy to be without me that I stop putting much effort in. They also don’t put in the effort but I know I am mostly to blame.

I want to get fitter and stronger, not just to lose weight, but to feel like I would do better at vet nursing or zoo jobs, but I am so convinced that I am shit at it that I give up in that area too.

I thought I was doing better. Some days I am.

I have a vet nursing interview next week. I almost want to cancel since I am sure I won’t get it anyway that I don’t see what the point is. How can I work in a teaching hospital if I need to be taught myself?

In the meantime I am going to go and drown my sorrows in a bubble bath. Not literally...