Someday I'll wish upon a star, wake up where the clouds are far behind me...

So late last week, a good friend of mine chose to end his life. I found out on Tuesday morning, and have been in a state of disbelief ever since.

Nick was so vivacious, and full of life. He had the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met. He wouldn't hesitate to help anyone who needed it. We worked together as vet nurses for 2 years - I think I could count on one hand the number of times I had seen him mad or angry. And even then, I wouldn't need every digit. He was a prankster, and a cheeky shit, but he was never mean or hurtful to anyone.

I can't even imagine how much pain he was in, in order to feel like that was his only option. And he was so loved, and beloved (the church full to bursting was evidence of that). He has two daughters that meant the absolute world to him - there is no chance he would have left them if he felt like he had a better choice.

Yesterday I drove down to the funeral. I got about 20 minutes into a 90 minute drive before I realised - I wasn't going to see him again. I knew I was going to say goodbye, but it hit me that I would never see his face again. That, physically, all he would be was a body in a box. That was hard.

Arriving at the church - it was heartwarming, and heartbreaking, to see the turnout of people who had come to say goodbye to this gentle giant. It was nice to see people I used to work with, who I haven't seen in a few years, although such horrific circumstances to bring us together. Walking into the chapel, and seeing the coffin - it didn't look big enough. He was larger than life - how on earth was he reduced to fitting into this small space? He was such a presence - I mean, he was 6 foot tall, and not a small guy, but he also just filled a room with his personality.

There was a slide show playing - these photos of happy Nick. It was so hard to associate those pictures with what was happening. How could it be possible that we were here for this reason?

His mum spoke - I can not imagine the pain of outliving your children. Whenever I have been really low and down, my Dad is the only thing that gets me through. I could not do that to him. I know that there are others in my life who love me, but I could not bear the thought of my Dad going through that. He doesn't realise that he has literally saved my life...

The vets from the clinic (where we met and worked together) got up to speak. The owner of the clinic - he has been a vet for 40 years, he is a stoic guy, and I have never seen him upset by anything. He gave this amazing tribute - reminding everyone of the kind of person Nick is was. The tales of his pranks and shenanigans, but also how passionate he was about his job, and how much he cared about everyone he worked with. Nick had started at the clinic as an after school job, and then worked there on and off for the last 22 years. He will forever be a part of that place, and it will never be the same without him. And then Mike told this story, about buying a big tree to plant for Nick, and broke down. It was heart wrenching. Next up was Dr Nick, the sidekick to Nurse Nick. Those two were as thick as thieves - best buddies. Again, so heart broken, and heart breaking.

Nick, if only you had realised how much everyone loved you, would it have helped? If you realised how much pain and heartbreak you would cause, would it have made a difference?

And the hardest was yet to come - when family and friends were to carry Nick out of the chapel. When it hit you, and you realised that this was it. He really was gone, and he wasn't coming back. That this is all that remained of someone who meant so much to so many. A box.

We then gathered together - shared our shock and our memories. Tried to figure out how everyone would be able to move past this shock and grief. The questions, the guilt, the confusion. Suicide makes people feel like they weren't adequate, that they didn't do enough, that maybe if they had been more, that if only Nick had reached out and asked for help, that we wouldn't be here saying goodbye.

I went out to the cemetery for a final goodbye - the spot chosen for him is quite beautiful. It is up high, with lovely views of trees and the surrounding hills. It is peaceful, and he will be able to rest there. The sun came out.

I hadn't been in regular touch with Nick for a wee bit. Life gets busy, we lived in different cities. We chatted every now and then on Facebook and kept in contact, but we had both been a bit slack. It is easy to take for granted that people will always be there. Until you realise that that is not the case. Nick and I will never again have a beer, or tell inappropriate jokes, laugh over ridiculous things, share a loaf of sourdough...

He must have been in a lot of pain. I can not imagine this is a choice that he made easily. It wasn't like Nick to give up, and he was not a selfish person at all. I only hope that he can rest easy now, and that he is in peace.

And somehow, the rest of us, will have to learn how to go on without him being around...

I saw a shooting star and thought of you

Well, well, well. What do we have here?

An old blog post came up on my Facebook's 'On This Day' bullshit, and I clicked it and came here, and re-read a lot of my old posts. Turns out I didn't blog at all last year. Not once. Never. Nada. None.

Turns out there wasn't much to share anyway. I moved back into town, instead of at Dad's. More costly but nice to be closer to work and friends, and to have my own space. My job was made into another 12 month fixed term position, so I am still here. But with way more stress and who knows how much more longevity.

Reading back old posts made me cry. Mostly because I always try to be so determined about losing weight. It's exhausting.

I am currently more determined. Most determined even. I have been exercising regularly for over a year. Regularly being 3 times a week or more. I was doing small group sessions 3 times a week with a PT, and about 3-4 other women, which was hard but fun. And now the PT has left us so that has disbanded. But I have joined a gym, and doing some PT sessions there once a week, with a friend. And then going another 3 times or so to do weights or cardio. Just re-started taking Spin/RPM classes, which are horrible but fun in their own way.

However the weight is not really shifting. That's because food still is, and continues to be, the beast to battle. I have signed up with a nutritionist who I check in with once a week. That fell to the wayside over the Christmas/New Year period, but back to it this week.

Not sure about anything else at the moment. No idea what I want to do with my life job/career wise. Single, and only kind of keen to mingle - I have recently realised just what an independent fucker I am, and I do not like sharing my space if I don't have to (I mean, I had an inkling...). So whoever they are might just have to be amazing in order to have any change on that.

And that's all I have to say about that.

I can beat the night, I'm not afraid of thunder

The mind is a very, very tricky and sneaky little thing. It really is the biggest hurdle to overcome when wanting to make any changes. 

On the one hand, I am miserable. I hate being this big. I hate feeling this way about myself, and being disgusting when I see myself and realise how big I have become. I almost made excuses yesterday as to why I could not go and spend time with family members, because I am embarrassed about how much weight I have put on in the last couple of years since I last saw my cousin and his partner.

And yet, after adopting a better lifestyle for the last two weeks (not too rigid), I weighed myself on the weekend and I had lost 2kgs. You'd think I would be excited right? I was. And then I almost sort of panicked. That's not the right word for it, but I don't know how to describe it. Rather than, woohoo this is working and let's keep going, it was more, oh shit really, now what do I do?

I think I am scared of losing the weight and being successful. I don't know if it is because I don't feel like I don't deserve it (reaching a goal and being proud or happy with myself), or if it is just that I have been fat for so long that I don't know how to be anything else, or who I will be if I lose the weight? Or have I just been using my weight as an excuse for so long, as to why I can't do things, that it scares me to no longer have it is a crutch or a reason? I don't even know.

I spend time last week with my friend and her adorable 5 month old baby, and then with my cousin and his almost 2 year old little girl. I want kids. So much so that it almost hurts. And I know I need to lose weight to get there. And yet that is not motivation. Am I scared of being a shite mother? Or that I will have fertility issues and it would be easier to forgo that heartache? Or still, afraid of being happy and having what I want?

Getting healthy and losing weight in order to be healthy and live longer and whatnot doesn't seem to work.

Or is it just that this slow torturous form of suicide is still exactly what I want? I had thought that I was past that, since there's so many things I want to do and see. But perhaps that is overwhelming too.

Too many thoughts going on in this crazy head of mine....

I will not let myself cause my heart so much misery

So I have 28 weeks (including this week) at my current job (also known as 6 months). It is just a fixed term position and then I have to make choices again. So in order to aid this choice making situation, during this time period I aim to:

- Pay off all outstanding bills (personal loan, credit card) and save my arse off. No matter what I decide to do (travel, have babies, etc), it requires money. The more the better. I have loads of stuff I don't need so will try to sell anything that is worth more than $10, and cut down on frivolous, unnecessary spending. I might even sell my Ed Sheeran tickets for December, seeing as I already saw him this year. And its in Auckland. Maybe.... Anyway, time to update the budget and tighten things up.

- And on that note, getting rid of clutter. It is actually ok to throw stuff away (my Dad would argue against it). Or donate it (clothing/shoe bins, etc). I do not need half the stuff I have. If I say I do, I'm probably lying.

- Eat healthier. I have fallen back into shoddy eating habits. The warmer months do make it easier to eat more salads (with tasty ingredients included so I don't feel like a rabbit), and things rather than stodgy, warming foods. Breakfast, healthy snacks, and cooking proper dinners. Even meal prepping and having food in the freezer!!

- Move more. I do belong to a gym. I do like classes. I also have a beach nearby to walk on (and even job once I get a bit more mobile and less painful), and to swim in once it's warmer. Trying to find more active things to do, eg when catching up with friends. I really want to learn to kayak. Also use weights at home (I do belong to a gym filled with them but it's a bit intimidating at the moment).

- Commit to learning the guitar - get actual lessons (this will eat into savings but I have been wanting to do it for ages, and I even own a guitar). Now that I am not working shift work and nights, I don't have that excuse. I need to find a teacher. And just do it. That way, I have an instrumental skill when I'm traveling (for in the Canadian wilderness around a campfire, obviously), or I can play the guitar to my baby....

That's it actually. Doesn't seem too bad.

An ominous landscape of never-ending calamity

So I've been looking back over photos from when I was overseas, and realising that it was 10 years ago is just mind boggling. I like travel. In fact, I would go so far as to say I love it. Discovering new places and things and cultures and people. When I went I thought it was partly to find myself, as naive 20-somethings do. But I think it was more to lose myself. It makes you appreciate home and the people in your life so much more. And it's amazing to be part of something so much bigger than yourself and your problems. It gives you a different perspective on life. Especially when you see how lucky we are in NZ, compared to the problems of other countries in the world and the scale of their issues.

And it makes me want to go overseas again. I miss it. I want to discover new things and places.

But then I have the issue of which I want more. Travel, or babies. Not that I can't have both. But both require money and so need prioritising.

And I think, travel and then babies, because then I can travel selfishly and it will be cheaper, etc. But then I go shopping for clothes for my friends' kids (just turned 1 and 2) and almost cry over the baby clothes, and end up leaving without buying anything. And I think, okay so babies first. But is it just hormones talking?

Either way, I need to save up, and lose weight/get healthy. The weight and health is obvious for babies, but I also want to be able to do amazing things if I go overseas - climb mountains and hike through wildernesses (especially in Canada). And then once I'm ready for either, then I can make the decision.

So then I need to make a vision board with both options I suppose....

Still a little bit of your words I long to hear

So it's been a while since my last update. A few things have changed:

- I got sick of being treated like crap at my job and resigned. I thought it was the dream vet nursing job, but that turned out to be a big fat lie. The job itself had it's moments, but was generally really depressing and just confirmed for me that I do not want to do emergency and referral work. It can be exciting, but give me the mundanity of general practice veterinary work any day. Especially referral medicine cases. It sucks when you feel like only half of your patients walk back out the front door again. Some of the team I worked with were awesome, and some of them were really really really not awesome at all. The job is too stressful to be able to cope with shitty people as well. And I don't really need anything extra to add to the downward slope of my mental health. I think being told by my "mum" that her and my dad had had meetings to discuss me, and thoughts of interventions, might have been the critical point that made me realise it is just not worth it.

- So now I am in an admin role. It's great. It is only fixed term at this stage, while someone else goes off to have baby (and I try not to get the eye twitch of jealousy for all things baby related).  So it's until the end of March. I will try to win them over with my awesomeness so they find a way to keep me, but even if I don't, I'm determined to not freak out over the uncertainty of what I will be doing after that time.

- I have moved out of my temporary country paradise and back home to Dad's. I am a lot more comfortable about that than I have been before. I love my Dad to pieces, it's easy, cheaper, and who knows how much more time I will get with him (fingers crossed for the rest of my life, but the universe can be fickle). Plus Diesel is pretty chilled out there which is nice. Room to run around, trees to climb, rodents/birds to catch outdoors. And I have the bonus of bugger all lights at night or pollution, so the sky is beautiful and clear and full of stars to gaze at. I find that actually, despite the shittyness of his small kitchen, it's easier to cook at Dad's too. In the country I had a fancy pants big kitchen that I loved, but living on your own isn't as fun. Now I get to cook for Dad too. It's kind of nice.

- With the out-of-routine-ness of my shitty job, which involved shift work - nights, weekends, holidays, 12 hour shifts, generally crap - and people that I needed to escape from, and general excuse-making, I have loaded on even more weight. Talking to Dad last night and he mentioned how big he was at his heaviest, which turned out to only be about 100kgs. I was looking through my old photos from Ireland (wanderlust and itchy feet are making themselves very present), and thinking how big I felt then, and yet that was double digits and almost 30kgs ago. Gah. Babies and travel need to motivate me. Or I just need to motivate myself. Something. Broken record syndrome I know, but somehow I need to fix this. I need to find the fire within me to get myself going.

That about wraps up my update. Spring tomorrow - bring on longer days, and pretty flowers, and baby animals everywhere!

Bandaids don't fix bullet holes....

I'd been feeling like work was getting better. Although the last week has involved so many euths and sad cases, and it does definitely get hard.

Worst of all though is the bullying. I have never had an issue with any place I've worked before, but now I am about to have my second "performance" meeting in a few months, thanks to someone who keeps complaining about me. Since the first meeting (held in March, about "issues" from Christmas - so nice and timely), I have given 200% more so that no one has reason to have any such complaints. And yet just yesterday I received an email requesting another 'informal' meeting to discuss performance issues.

I don't feel like I do any less than anyone else regularly does - I make sure the patients are all looked after the best that they can be, as well as doing loads of cleaning, washing etc. I don't get it. I know the Christmas problems were primarily from one person, and were all pretty petty. She doesn't seem to hide the fact that she doesn't like me, or think I'm good enough as a nurse. Despite the fact that she is only in her early 20s and hasn't graduated that long ago.

I don't really know what to do. I don't love the job enough to put up with being driven to tears regularly by someone singling me out to bitch about me to my bosses. But at the same time, I don't want to let bullying drive me out of my job either.

Ugh.

Today is never too late to be brand new

Right that's it. I want babies. Time to sort this shit. Stay tuned.

What do you see when you turn out the light?

I am exhausted. Physically, mentally and emotionally.

I don't know if it is just 6 months of a demanding job and stupidly long hours catching up with me. Combined with uncertainty about whether this is even the right job for me, let alone the career, and what the heck I want to be doing with my life. I used to love vet nursing, and I thought getting back into the industry was what I wanted. But this job does not seem to be the right one for me - maybe I just can't hack the stress of emergency care, or the fact that the cases are all critical and it gets depressing with the amount we can't fix/help/etc. I never thought I was a people person (I don't like people), but I do actually miss building up relationships with clients, although mostly with their animals, and getting follow through rather than just seeing them while they are really sick, before they go back to their own referring clinic.

At the moment, I sleep badly at night. If its a day off, I tend to fall asleep halfway through the day for a nap. Or when working, fall asleep on the couch after work. And then I can't get to sleep until late, and sleep badly at night. And the cycle continues. I am just tired all of the time.

I went to a wedding last weekend. The day before I tried on the dresses I was considering wearing, only to find that none of them fit any more. I went and found on last minute (phew!). But the wedding photos came out a few days ago and made me cry - I knew I was big, and I knew I had put on weight lately, but it was quite the wake up call. I guess I generally look at myself only half a body at a time, so a full length photo didn't help. The photo had a mix of slim and bigger people, so it wasn't just that I look huge compared to the tiny people, but also compared to people I thought were a similar size to me. Horrendous.

So I am telling myself that these will great "before" photos when I get to where I want to be. But that also feels utterly hopeless. I don't have the energy to cook and eat well or exercise. I know that doing those will make me feel better and have more energy, but it's all just a vicious cycle that seems far too hard right now.

I feel stuck. I'm pretty sure, that similar to when I moved from Wellington to Auckland and back again, that moving cities/jobs/etc doesn't actually help when I am unhappy within myself. But unsatisfying surroundings are demotivating.

At the moment, I need to try to make the most of living in this lovely house/environment for the next 5 months. Although that even has its problems - Diesel hates one of the cats here, and I have had enough of their constant yowling and fighting, and him being covered in scratches :( So he will move back to Dads for the meantime. I feel mean for giving him up when I am living with other cats - it feels like I am "cheating" on him. But I also feel guilty for moving him here where he seems to both love and hate it.

However, make the most of this house and freedom and independence. Try to last out this job for the next 5 months - I can build up my skills, it will help my CV to stick in the job for longer, and in the meantime, brainstorm about what I want to be doing (primary school teaching keeps coming to the front of my mind - but then retraining AGAIN feels ridiculous.....).

When enemies are at your door I'll carry you away from war

Sometimes I lament the fact that I don't have a lot of friends. But then I realise that I have a few amazing friends, which make me so freaking lucky.

And they are friends that I believe are meant to be - they came about out of circumstances that weren't common or normal or usual for me.

First is EG. She and I met at my first time at University. We were in the same tutorial class for Psychology. As we were leaving class one day, we were at the same traffic lights waiting to cross the road. And I spoke to her. Something along the lines of "Hey I think we're in the same Psych class/tut". This is something I don't do. I am shy and terrified of new people. Especially my first time at Uni. I was shell shocked and so scared in this big new world. But something about her made me approach and establish a connection. And it has been one of the best connections ever. She has been with me through some of my very toughest times, such as losing Jeremy, and just general life crappiness, and knows me so much better than I know myself. I would do anything for her, and believe the vice versa is also true - which makes me thank my lucky stars on a very regular basis.

Second is HS. I met her cousin on a Foo Fighters noticeboard - we talked a lot about opening our own music store, which would also be a cafe and vet clinic? Somehow it was going to work. Through her I then met HS through online blogging and then we all met for a drink at a Wellington pub one day. Again, I don't like new people. And in fact, all three of us are quite similar like that, which I guess is how it worked. When I moved down to Wellington, and was stuck for a place to live, she offered me the spare room in her flat. And the rest is pretty much history. She is amazing and lovely and someone else I am very lucky to have in my life. She accepts me, and even loves me, with all my flaws and imperfections, and perhaps even because of some of them.

Last, in the timeline of meeting these lovely ladies, but definitely not least, is AB. She is my sister from another mister. I don't understand how I have not known her my whole life, but I can't imagine not having her in my life for a single minute. She moved into a flat that I was already living in. Have I mentioned yet that I am not good with new people and making the first move with people? Well maybe her second day in the flat, I got up and I don't remember which of us was in the lounge first - but I was tired, and she was hungover, and we managed to bond over the Home and Away omnibus. It was the start of something amazing. We are so similar, that it's actually surprising that we don't ever really fight. Somehow we complement each other beautifully and, without going all 'Jerry Maguire' on it, she completes me.

I sometimes think that if I won one of those competitions where you can have a private screening with 20 of your friends, that I would struggle to come up with 20. And life can get lonely once in a while. But I have a few very close friends, who are the very bestest ever, and I would not change that for all the friends in the world.

You drove me nearly out of my head while you never shed a tear

So today was my very very first time using a ride on lawnmower (other than a short tutorial in how to use it). And so you'd think I'd be forgiven for not being perfect at it first time out. Instead, I berate and belittle myself for not being amazing the first time out. Just little things like not being able to get the catcher to work properly (which I did manage to rectify), and the engine cutting out on the slightly too long grass in some areas, and then getting a flat tyre. So then I am convinced that I suck and am no good at anything.

Thanks mum.

I do recall my mum's favourite saying to me (or at least the one that stands out most) was that I was "useless as tits on a bull". Even if it was my first time doing something, if I wasn't great at it straight away, she would get frustrated and speak the above golden words. Which is why now, I hate trying new things, mostly because I'm worried that I won't be perfect at them. And nearly no one is perfect at anything the first time they try them out. But yet, I can't seem to give myself a break.

I do think about if it was someone else in the same shoes. I would tell them they are being silly for expecting to not make any mistakes the first time they do something. But we are our own worst critics, especially when you have been brought up with that same criticism by one of the people that is supposed to love and support you unconditionally.

I know that she had the shittiest upbringing with way worse parents that I have ever known, but that still doesn't make it okay. At some point, someone needs to break the cycle. I promise I will. First I just have to start with myself, and forgive myself if I make some mistakes along the way...

It'll leave you breathless or with a nasty scar

When I had a talk with Jo the other day, I realised that the thing I most want in this world - more than polar bears and travel and to work with big cats, is to have kids. I knew they were high on my list, but if I could only do one thing, it would be to be a mum. Crazy huh? Surprised me....

I have to stop thinking of wanting to lose weight as actually losing weight, or generalising getting healthier, or less specifics. At this point, even if I had a man, or a turkey baster, I don't think I could actually get pregnant. And even if I could, the extra weight could potentially kill me. And cause gestational diabetes. Etc etc.

It's not about getting fit and strong to make work easier, or to make travel more adventurous (although it will definitely help). It's so I can get pregnant, safely have a baby(ies), and be a good mum who can carry her kid(s) and run around with them and set a good example.

So maybe my vision board needs babies? Or at least motherly related things.

Currently watching One Tree Hill and the little kid on there is so cute it makes my ovaries hurt. Someone gets an ultrasound and hears their babies heart beat for the first time, and I dissolve into tears (and not for the first time). 

And here I was thinking I was content enough with fur babies.....

There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

I had this discussion with my "mum" a few years ago, about how could never commit suicide, because of the pain it would cause to those that I love, especially my Dad. After going through that with a wife, plus a parent should never have to bury a child. I saw a colleague go through that and I would never wish it on anyone.

But she did also tell me that even if I didn't blatantly commit suicide, I was still killing myself because of the fact that I do not take care of myself well - my obesity and that I do not much to combat that, at least not long term. I still eat badly, and I both punish and comfort myself with food. At the time, I got what she was saying, but I guess I didn't feel it.

At the end of 2014, I "got" it. I went to the doctors and for the first time in my life, despite years of being grossly overweight, I had high blood pressure. Admittedly it was a small cuff, so gave a higher reading than normal, but at the same time, I do not want to defend the fact that my arm is so fat that I need the bigger cuff.... I wasn't really shocked. And I didn't really care. And it was then that I realised that Jo was right - I really was slowly killing myself with food and self-neglect.

So we had another talk about it, and got to the nitty gritty. Turns out that all the stuff that I like least (or hate) about myself, are traits in myself that I associate with my mother. And not even traits that are apparently that major in me, but that I make bigger because of their association. So it turns out that, in a very simplified nutshell, I am killing myself (albeit, slowly) so that I do not turn into my mother, who also tried to kill herself (but in an abrupt hurtful instant manner, which is apparently worse). It's still a bit complicated in my tiny little head.

Ensue some tears and some light bulb moments that I am NOT my mother, and the things she said to me, that I still repeat to myself, are not actually true and I no longer have to believe them.

There are also issues with the fact that everyone has a primal need to be loved by their mother. And while my mother might very well love me in her own way, it's not really the way I need to be loved, which she is not capable of due to her own screwed up upbringing. On a conscious level, I really don't care. I have Jo and my Dad, and other people in my life to give me that love. On a subconscious level, apparently that is crap and not enough. Gah.

Anyway, over Christmas I got sad. Not only because I really do feel like the only alone person in the world - everyone is loved up and whatnot. And I only get to spend part of the day with Dad because he spends the other part with his new family... I digress. But also because it is the main time of the year when my desire for children really kicks in. I want to start fun traditions, and leave out food for Santa and his reindeer, and make Christmas fun again. So then I realised that if I do keep slowly killing myself, then I won't get that chance, and worse, that if I did, I would leave my kids motherless, or at the very least, screw them up just like I was, with harmful attitudes towards food and all that jazz.

It's all a bit confusing and hard, and frankly, it hurts my head. But I must make baby steps (excuse the pun). Small goals, slow sustainable progress.

Friends of mine are moving to Canada for six months, and I am supremely jealous. But also fortuitous as I am moving into their place for that time - to look after the house, the cats, and to live on my own but with considerably cheaper rent than usual. I am looking forward to having my own space, and my own proper kitchen so that I can take care of myself better. A 6 month project if you will. Ready, set, go. I must remember that the tortoise did beat the hare in the end.....

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...