My old friend, how I don't miss you

1:30pm
Today is a beautiful day, the sun shines down on Melbourne's pretty buildings. People walking through the city are meeting friends for lunch and fair trade coffee. I sit at a table at the Bare Pear, a gorgeous little cafe that serves organic whole foods. On the bookshelf in this cafe I found books on topics of eating for good health. This is my kind of place. I have finished my delicious smoothie with fresh fruit, soy milk and a shot of flax seed oil. Today I lunched with Al, a special girl that one, always great to see her and catch up on our lives. Al has just left and I continue to sit, I am not going back to work, I just sit. I'd like to say that I am not working because it's my day off and I'd love to say that I just sit because I have nothing to do but enjoy this stunningly beautiful existence. I would love to say that, but I can't. Instead I'll tell you that I am not at work because the anxiety won't allow it, that I am continuing to sit because the paralysis is beginning to take me over and that I can't enjoy my surroundings because my insides are agonising. You've heard it all before; my heart races and races, on the brink of exploding - but it doesn't, I wish it would. My stomach feels and tastes revolting, turning and turning. The sickness can be felt from the bottom of my stomach right to my mouth where I feel like I am gagging on it. My head spins - it contains unwanted, overwhelming images. I can easily access my rational thoughts, 'everything is good,' 'this will pass,' but knowing these things, having my rational side still in tact is only torture because it not only makes no difference to the anxiety but I realise what it is like for it not to be there and I desperately long for that. Multiple times I have began writing to describe the locking up of the muscles but in not wanting to give in to a helpless, immovable body I think that of course I can move which means there is no need to write about it. When trying to move my leg the images in my mind become strong and painfully intrusive, knives, pills and accidents of all kind rush my thoughts. I keep saying to myself, 'just don't feel this way,' 'there is no need to be like this,' I sound like someone who doesn't get mental illness. 'It's not something I can easily control,' I respond to myself and amongst this internal conversation the images are flashing - flashing! A friend who I am meant to be meeting calls, I tell her that I can't meet because I am having a panic, quite frankly. 'Perhaps I can meet you later,' I tell her, 'depends on how this turns out.' What an odd thing to say, but it's the way this anxiety thing works, I could be fine in an hour or could be effected for days. My friend messages me, 'what can I do?' I don't respond, I don't know how to. What can she do? What can I do? What can anyone do? At this stage I am either heading to the doctors or to bed. I call my doctor, she is not in, I hold back the tears. Time for some intervention, Valium or a natural remedy? I have been sitting here for hours and hours now, drinking tea and smoothies to attempt to calm my stomach, man I need to pee! I call home, no one will be there tonight, is that a good or bad thing? I have plenty of friends to rely on if that's what I choose to do. What to do? My heart begins to quieten, my tummy is feeling more normal, I slowly and carefully consider the option of moving and I don't panic from it. It feels like the anxiety is subsiding.

7:45pm
After that episode I was able to gradually work on removing the anxiety from my body and mind and now I am anxiety free. I am in bed nearing sleep - an episode like that leaves one exhausted! It's a good thing I am looking to sleep now as I am teaching in an early Step class tomorrow. That's right, I will be fine tomorrow morning - I feel strong and together. That experience which I described right as I was in it, and ones like it, are really bizarre things. Sure, I study Psych so I get it on a intellectual level but even with the text book knowledge and even having had the first hand experience I still find it an incredible thing. It is amazing how one can be hit with the anxiety so suddenly and so strongly and after that that's it, they are lost to it, no control, no hope. And then it can be gone just as fast as it came an hour later or perhaps one might not be so fortunate and are still struggling a week later. When I was typing out what I had written all I can do is think was 'yep, that's what happened,' but since I am not experiencing anxiety now it seems so separate from me so surreal but when you are in it, it is your whole world.

So what now? Should I be getting treatment? I have been avoiding seeing a Psychologist because of the cost. I don't think the anxiety is severe or frequent enough for medication. Are natural remedies effective enough for this condition? I don't know if it will happen again within the next few days or not for another few months. Perhaps I should get myself some Rescue Remedy or some primrose oil or something of the like, see how I take to that. Things to ponder. What I do know now is it's time for a pie and sleep.

Oh, my friend from earlier just called. She has decided she is coming around to see me. What a truly great friend. Okay, now it's pie, Ange, then sleep.

The things that make us who we are

'How do you spell animal?' the young girl asks the back of her mum's head, clutching a permanent marker in her hand. Her mum tells her, not taking her eyes off the television. The girl remembers the combination of letters as she goes back into her bedroom where 'AN' is already written on the wall. She finishes the word with care and precision, 'IMAL.' The girl stands back, places the marker on her desk and looks at her work, she thinks this representation of what she loves looks good over the floral wall paper of her room.


She met him for the first time in the hallway, by the front door. There had been a knock at the door, the doorbell doesn't work and the familiar visitor knew this. The girl ran to the front of the house but waited for her mum to walk the hallway and open the door. The door opened to two guests; the girl knew the man who had knocked, he was the friend of her older brother, he greeted her mum but the girl wasn't interested in him. The other guest was what caught her attention, she was meeting him for the first time. On meeting her new friend, the girl didn't yet realise how he would change her, that he would teach her to love and respect all creatures, she would never be the same because of what they would build together. The girl fell to the ground and hugged her new best friend as he excitedly jumped all over her, licking her face.


The girl loved her encyclopedias and educational books. She would spend hours in her bedroom reading information on all sorts of topics. The sections she enjoyed the most, usually were about animals or the environment and she would copy these out in her notebook, word by word and trace the pictures. The girl came across a section on White Seals, there was a picture of an adorable seal lying in the snow. A fluffy creature with a tiny body, a cute round face. The girl read about the White Seal to horrifically discover that the babies are killed by way of clubbing and their fur used for clothing. The girl was outraged by this and thought everyone needed to know. She took the book with her to school and showed everyone the cute picture so they too could fall in love, she then went on to tell the people the horrible news about how they are beaten, their lives taken away from them for a selfish purpose. The girl knew they only pretend to care.


23 stitches the young girl had in her leg after she was bitten by the Blue Healer. In the hospital bed the girl asked what would happen to the dog. She had seen and heard enough to know what a cruel world she lived in and she wasn't stupid, the dog was to be killed. The girl didn't agree that the dog deserved this, it was his breeding that made him the way he was. The family loved their dog a great deal and would never let this happen again, they would keep him away from strangers if only he could live through this. It was only a slip in judgment and no real harm was done, the girl thought. The girl asked her mum to please not allow them to do it, the mum gave her daughter a look to say 'it has to happen.' Tears filled the girls eyes and she pleaded with her mum, she begged and screamed that a life shouldn't be taken. 2 weeks later the girl ran to the sound of the doorbell and opened the door. A young lady stood in the doorway holding a large koala teddy bear, she asked to see the girl who was bit by the dog. 'That's me,' the young girl responded and to this the lady handed her the koala, explaining that this was a 'thank you' for what she had done for their dog, her family couldn't appreciate it more.

Walking down the dirt road, the girl and her friend excitedly discussed their plans. 'We'll put flyers up in the shops.' 'We can make coupons.' The two girls planned to start a dog washing and walking business, after school and on weekends. When these girls hung out in their bedrooms, lazed out on the floor or bed, they would rarely speak of boys, instead these girls spoke about animals, passionately. They loved animals and hated the abuse and use of them that was seen all around. They planned to donate all the money that they earned washing and walking dogs to the RSPCA, they had no interest in keeping the money for themselves, they knew using it to help animals was more valuable. When the girls told their parents their plans, their parents couldn't say or do anything but give them looks that said 'darling, how do kids come up with this stuff?'

VCE at Kangan, the girl's class could orally present on the text they were studying or a topic of their choosing, they had free range. The majority of the class presented on either the text or on what was in the media at the time, gay marriage. The girl decided she wanted to do something different, something that would have an impact. She spoke to her English teacher for inspiration, she admired his view of the world greatly, how he would never be something or someone just because it was the norm or expected. He suggested that the girl might be interested in Australian philosopher Peter Singer's writing. The teacher thought the girl would be interested in this topic based on a creative writing piece she had done earlier in the year on the tortured experience of a dairy cow. The teacher had some of Singer's writing in his office which he gave to her as a place to start, she read with great interest the theories on Animal Liberation.

It was a Friday evening and the girl was driving home from work. A striking thought came into her mind. It was a thought in that instant which meant a significant and permanent change to her life. This girl was to be a vegetarian. She had lived with the guilt and disgust of eating meat for many years. For years she knew it was something she didn't want to be a part of but continued doing so, guiltily and painfully so. What it was about that moment, not a moment a year earlier or a moment a year later, she couldn't tell you. But there it was, she was to be vegetarian and there would never ever be another moment in this girl life where she would consider eating meat. Vegetarian, and although she didn't know it yet, veganism, would bring purpose and incredible happiness to this girl's world. And there she was, she had arrived at her destination.

Three Kristys and an Alf

This weekend (granted I still have most of my Sunday to go) has been a mush of being old school Kristy, the new Kristy and anxious Kristy who, chronologically, sits in between old school and the new Kristys.

Cam can vouch for this picture of old school Kristy. She enjoys nothing more and doesn't want anything but days, many, many consecutive hours, to stay in bed with a hot water dog, wrapped up in many blankets, smelling of someone who hasn't been a part of society for quite sometime and eating loads of junk food (in this weekend's case, the junk food has consisted of donuts, cakes, pies and sausage rolls from my much loved and conveniently close and cheap vegan bakery and of course, as like most weekends, a packet of Doritos and a jar of salsa which I included an avocado for dipping under the pretense that it will transform it into a healthy snack). Old School Kristy's hours are swiftly swallowed and never to be seen again by the consuming and stimulating images and noises of Theme Hospital and Warcraft 2, satisfying is the feeling of achieving the goals of and bringing order to a fantasy world, using those at my command to do so - cartoonish and cute characters be they - doctors, nurses and janitors or footman, arches and knights. And because that is not enough visual and auditory stimulation to serve as a distraction from reality, Futurama, Simpsons or a random chick flick (Dirty Dancing was the flick of choice this weekend) plays in the background as old school Kristy does her thing and does it well. Really, I think I would have spent the entire weekend in this embrace if only I weren't depending on Clinton's power cable to bring life to my laptop. But, alas, dependent I am and therefore have only been spending the hours that Clinton sleeps to live in this hospital or mythological forest - which, since good old Clinton is also being old school Clinton and sleeping for many hours, the time that I have with his power pack lasts me until the afternoon.

Once Clinton rises and takes back his laptop power, I am one distraction down and feeling the anxiety coming on. This is when the new Kristy steps up, takes the reins and sends away the anxiety the way she knows best - the gym! So off I head into the city on both my Saturday and Sunday to pump the iron and pound the treadmill belt (but not train in Body Step, just this weekend - long story perhaps for another post). The new Kristy is adrenaline fueled, feeling good about herself, loving that she is working towards a huge and great achievement (perhaps like combating the goals in her fantasy worlds but this one is something real and something admirable). After the gym, the new Kristy food shops (loving the feeling of being in the fruit and veg and health food sections of the supermarket) and cooks a healthy meal (hollowed out tomatoes stuffed with tofu, fresh basil, mushrooms, spinach, pine nuts and left over avocado from when old school Kristy existed). The new Kristy meets a friend for herbal tea and warming conversations on a wet and cold day. The new Kristy, arriving home, still laptop-powerless and unable to crawl back into old school Kristy's world, takes on an alternative (and healthier for the mind) path to distract herself from the anxiety and let time be consumed - reading a damn good book while listening to damn good music. Cloud Atlas and Emotional IQ are my current reads which send my mind into a happy and calm state. And of course my usual music choice to match this cognitive state being predominately the Kinks and Kimya.

Clinton has just popped in asking 'where his power at? Bitch.' He allows me 10 more minutes to finish my post and then it is time for old school Kristy to morph into the new Kristy. Oooh, I just moved position in my bed and oh my, a major case of pins and needles in both my feet and my butt is painfully numb (is that possible?) - the result of not moving an inch for the last however many hours Theme Hospital has been controlling me (although I was under the impression that I controlled it, pfft). In this dual Kristy world, the third Kristy, anxious Kristy, has made herself known at different times. Her presence is strongest in the transition from one Kristy to the other, hence my heart mildly racing now, as well as at night or on first waking. I am not too annoyed with anxious Kristy for making an appearance because, truth be told, she isn't saying too much, she speaks quite softly this weekend and isn't causing me too much strife (strife? I think that's Alf's from Home and Away's word. No Kristy that I am or have ever been has watched Home and Away).

And that's my weekend - lovely. (Now I'm quoting the Pancake Parlor! Struth! Or is that what Alf says, 'Struth!'? Why the hell am I talking like Alf anyway!?)

Holos, "whole." Kaustos, "burnt."

This morning I was remembering about when I first learnt about the Holocaust, I stated thinking about this on my way from my morning Step class to work. What got me thinking about the Holocaust was a rude Step participant who decided to make my instructing experience a difficult one, a big jump from one thought to the other, but somehow I got there and here I am.

I didn't learn about the Holocaust until year 9, which I think is quite shameful. It was in English, which I always thought was an inappropriate place be introducing these occurrences to students. Sure, we were studying Elle but it became a matter of exploring the concepts of the Holocaust as opposed to the concepts of the book. So complex and intense are the concepts, perhaps better suited for History or a social science subject. Anyway, there we were - the teacher cramming 30 students into a small square in the center of the class room which was measured out and segmented by chairs. This was to simulate the confined space that the victims were subjected to as they rode across the country to the concentration camps. It was good to see the teacher thinking of ways for us to really understand what it was that these people went through but I remember thinking that he'd have to throw some corpses and feces in with us and leave us trapped for weeks to imagine what hell awaits us to even being to come close to simulating the experience.

I wonder how a teacher stands in front of a class and explains what happened during this time, how do they say, "During WWII, not that long ago, a group of people systematically and very consciously tortured and killed more than 11 million fellow beings, as disgusting, painfully and inhumanely as possible." - I guess like that. I remember my reaction, it was confusion and lack of understanding, "huh? what!? why!?" The questions flooded in, the jist of them being, "why would people do such horrific things to another?" - Or how could they!? I slowly began to understand with explanations such as the area being in a Depression, the genocide was designed so that people didn't see the great affects of their contribution or the individuals detaching themselves from what it was they were doing - they were just 'making the trains run on time.' Having studied Social Psychology and the experiments done specifically on the questions, 'how?' and 'why?'. I begin to understand further.

I think that's one of the main reasons why I study Psychology. To understand what forces contribute to a person's behavior because for someone to just be bad or evil doesn't cut it for me. I study Psychology to understand objectively and scientifically why people do the things they do. I feel more comfortable with being a person with these human qualities and living in this world when I can explain or understand behavior in this way. I still struggle with the questions daily, 'why would/how could someone consciously, and even intentionally cause another person pain or distress?' Usually when caught in the situation, the objective Psychologist is thrown out the window because I see something so horrible happening and all I can do is feel the pain and repeat the questions in my head, 'how?' 'why?' And these questions send me insane, quite honestly. It does my head in to see it happening, it does my head in to see it being allowed to happen. More than that, it makes me depressed.

So what are my ways of dealing with the empathetic overload? Firstly, I volunteer myself to help others; this is my biggest motivating factor. Because although, admittedly, I do turn a blind eye to a lot of suffering in the world (some of this suffering occurring in my own home), a way of me dealing with the pain that surround us in this world is knowing I am at least doing something, I am at least helping someone. It means when I ignore a homeless person on the street I can tell myself that I am doing what I can and that I can't help everyone. The other way I deal with all of this, like I've mentioned, my mistress Psychology. When I can't take it anymore, Psychology allows me to hide behind a clipboard and lab coat and instead of feeling the pain of this world. I think up explanations and sometimes, justifications for such behaviors and for the state of society as a whole and that way I am not so much feeling it as I am observing.

Ah, defence mechanisms, a fascinating Psych concept that has very much been on my mind lately. More to think on the topic, more to blog on the topic.

Jenny

Jenny, aged 14, until recently lived with her Dad. It was just the two of them living in a small, 2 bedroom house. Jenny deeply loves her Dad and it is clear he loves her too. Despite the great relationship they share, after Jenny's Dad lost his job and his drinking started in the morning she couldn't live with him anymore, the Department told her.

Jenny stays in a foster home now, a loving family; 3 kids, 2 parents and a dog that the family walks every night, together. The family is a bit too nuclear for Jenny's comfort but she'll admit it is nice to have some routine, even if it is, at times, too routine. Living in a home with breakfast at the table and a bed time is certainly different, she is told she'll adjust. Jenny is used to being the only of her friends at school that has the unusual family. Her friends all have a Mum and a Dad at home, whereas Jenny has always seen her Dad as both parents in one. When Jenny was little, her and her Dad would build a tent in the lounge room or eat ice cream for dinner, but not every night. When Jenny reached puberty she was more comfortable talking to her Dad about the changes than her friends were talking to their Mums. Her friends ask Jenny why she doesn't live with her Dad anymore, if he is so 'cool'.

Jenny's Dad didn't tell her when he started feeling the despair, he usually tells her everything but he didn't want to worry her about this. She's too young to have to face something like what he was going through, he would think. The drinking was only a few each night to feel better, not a problem, he would think. He had no idea it had become as bad as it was now, he thought about this for hours as he sat in an arm chair in his now empty house.

Jenny's Dad, although missing her terribly, is glad that Jenny is being looked after while he gets better. He explained this to Jenny when they met in a room with couches, a coffee table and toys and teddies surrounding them at the Department. The Department workers observed the conversation as tears roll down both faces. Jenny's Dad tells her it won't be very long at all, and she will still go to school and Netball and see her friends so not much will be different. They will still see each other, just once a week, he tells her as he gestures to the interview room designed to be warm and safe.

When Jenny and her Dad meet, Jenny tells him all about school and Netball and what she has been up to during the week and on the weekend. He will tell her he is doing better, each week he says he is doing better. Jenny wonders how many more times they need to meet like this, how much 'better' he needs to get before she can go home, but she doesn't ask. On the nights that Jenny sees her Dad at the Department she doesn't go with the family to walk the dog or eat dinner at the table. Pizza on Thursday nights, Jenny is allowed to eat in her room on her own. The family understands that she needs some time to herself on this night. The other nights, however, Jenny enjoys walking the dog, she is happy and talkative.

Jenny has made a new friend. She is a bit older which suits Jenny fine as she has always felt she enjoys hanging out with adults more anyway, at least cool ones like her Dad. In her new home the kids are young, still in Primary School and the Mum and Dad, while nice, are a bit too stuffy. So Jenny enjoys hanging with her new friend, it shakes up the dry routine a bit. Jenny didn't know what to think of her at first, she came around one night and ate with the family, Tuesday night, pie and veggies. At first Jenny thought she was from the Department, after dinner while the family walked the dog, they stayed home together and she explained that she doesn't work for the department. Instead she is just a girl at Uni who hopes to make friends with Jenny. They can hang out, she can help with homework or if Jenny ever wants to chat she can give her a call, is how the girl explained it. Jenny was a bit unsure at first, but now they get along great, she's a cool girl, Jenny thinks.

Jenny texts her new friend after school to see if she wants to hang. 'Cool, I'll come around, I'll bring that book I was telling you about,' is the reply. Jenny likes hanging with her, they do adult things like go to cafes and talk about books and boys. Sometimes she goes with Jenny to the Department to meet her Dad, Jenny prefers this than her foster Dad taking her. Other times Jenny will call her friend at night, under the doona, and they will talk for over an hour! Jenny likes that she doesn't tell her that she should be going to sleep because she has school in the morning, they don't talk too late anyway.

Everything that has happened for Jenny over the last few months has been a big change and of course a difficult thing. Jenny knows her foster family, her new friend, the Department and her Dad are all doing what they can to help her. Some nights Jenny cries when she misses her Dad or doesn't understand why things seem harder for her. But most of the time she is strong, like her Dad asks her to be, and she is happy with her foster family and new friend.

I love my bear in his cave

Thursday, September 17, 6pm

Here I sit in my funky cave. A truly blissful moment, relaxing on the couch, listening to The Cat Empire, sipping peppermint tea (being proud that it's not Bourbon). These days there is not much in my life that I'd like to be different. Sure, it's hectic and at times overwhelming but it has been carefully designed and architectured by me to be just how I want it.

In the notebook that I currently write in I stumbled upon some writing that I did in January. In this piece I spoke of the grief around the break up with Cam and more specifically how being on my own was an issue for me. After so long of of being in a partnership such as ours it's not an easy thing to move away from. Turns out once you break through missing what's familiar it's quite a nice thing.

I've been pondering on independence lately - independence of moving out, independence of being manager-less and of course, independence by way of the single-hood. When Cam and I were dependent on each other, we had each other to make decisions with, while this was at times a good thing, it was often a dangerous thing. It had a similar affect to group think. I found we tended to support each other in bad decision making more often than good. We were great at taking in turns to disguise, justify or down play the consequences of such decisions. And of course from this habits aren't too far behind.

In the first episode of being single I ran with the bad decision making habit, whether it be with my health, my finances or other. After a little while, I stopped short to realise consequences exist and I am the only one around for them to affect. This is both a scary and empowering thought. Scary because when I get overwhelmed or would like support, I look around and it's just me. Empowering because this life becomes all mine to mold, decisions are mine to make and benefits are mine to reap.

So this being solely responsible for myself thing goes one of two ways. Sometimes I'm scared, overwhelmed and fumbling. Otherwise I'm empowered, in control and like I say, deliberately architecturing an awesome life filled with funky caves with gorgeous inhabitants and a pot of peppermint tea.

The 8th one across...

Reading Asia's letters tonight, I'm clicking on the particular colors which I can expect to be to a boy and, ah, exciting. And she does excite me, her descriptions, her talk of 'fucking,' same goes for writing by another, exciting. And I've had a few drinks tonight so I can say these things. The thing I miss most about being with someone is the regular sex, and I don't even need regular, semi regular will do me. Thoughts of sex has been bombarding me recently, I see a boy and that's it, my thoughts will be there, without going into too much detail. I want and need him. Surprisingly it's not the case with girls though, it surprising because girls do it more for me sexually, maybe I think it actually might happen with the guys where as it's not so likely with the girls. I wonder if it's going off my meds that has sent my sex drive through the roof. Whatever it is, something's given or perhaps I should say something's got to give or I'll...what happens if one's deprived of sex? Hmmm, maybe I'll be finding out.

Sex, hmmm. I remember having a conversation with Court a long time back, I guess I was still with Cam, about sex and what it was to us. To me, back then, it was something special and not to be shared with just anyone. I guess back then, with Cam being my only and my love I had the luxury of that way of thinking. Attitudes have definitely taken a shift since then. Still, to shag someone they need to be someone to me, but the criteria has, ah, relaxed over the last year.

My boozed state is wearing off, wanting to blog on the topic of sex is becoming less. If you had of caught me an hour ago I would have been much more interestingly discussing the topic, more, ah, descriptively. Probably safer this way, saves me waking in the morning to delete evidence of the night before.

Always will I be strong and proud.

No longer will I work towards gaining the approval of someone who holds no respect for me anyway.

No longer will I allow this unfounded criticism to slap me to the ground.

No longer will I think I should have done something differently to satisfy these expectations that I'd never hold for myself or anyone.

No longer will I let my place in this world be challenged nor my confidence in myself be shaken by these destructive attitudes.

No longer will I be left feeling the sharp pain of rejection by someone who disapproves of my core attributes.

No longer will I be convinced that my best qualities are in fact down falls.

No longer will I feel lonely and fearful of abandonment because of my beliefs or experiences.

No longer will I hurt myself to be accepted or justified.

No longer will this negative energy get a pass into my space.

No longer will I see someone else negatively because they too have had these attacks directed at them.

No longer will I be sorry for who I am.

Always will I surround myself by and collect the energy from those who love, accept and respect me - unconditionally.

It's funny how certain memories stick with you and seem to continue to have an impact long after they no longer matter, and some barely mattered to begin with. One day, quite a few years ago, Cam and I were catching the V-Line from the City to Craigieburn. That's where our car was parked and we were cruising our way home to Broadmeadows from there. As we got off at Craigieburn I saw a woman who was obviously stressed speaking broken English to the train conductor. This lady had boarded the wrong train and was trying to get to Glenroy, she didn't understand why the train didn't stop there or how she was to get home now. The train conductor was being fairly inconsiderate, he pretended to be supportive but was really giving her the 'it's not my problem' brush off. Of course my thoughts went straight to giving this lady a ride home to Glenroy, after all it is 10 mins out of my way. For her to find her way home now would be really, very horrible - this was before Craigieburn was Met, so not an easy trip and additionally her Engish skills were lacking and she was obviously confused about where she was. In the end, for reasons beyond my control, I couldn't take this woman home. I walked passed her and away carrying her problem with me as a heavy burden that belonged to me. I still think about this lady, more often than I really should, after all she is bound to have found her way home by now! When I think of her I feel pained that I couldn't help her, I feel a sense of responsibility and mostly I feel regret.

Why has this memory emerged itself tonight? I've been thinking about my desire to please people and how in doing so sometimes leads to doing wrong by me. I continued to think about this and how this tendency can leak into my relationship with boys. I thought about times when I have spend my evenings doing anti-Kristy things (drinking and watching cricket!) for a boy, or how when told I have to be 'all in or all out' I jumped to say that I am all in (which resulted in a relationship crash not long after because I really should have stood my ground on what I want to begin with).

This sort of behavior has also been a issue for me when it comes to boys and sex. Don't get me wrong, I am not about to sleep with a guy just to please him. Actually, I had a guy asking me to spend the night with him a week or so back, long story short, it lead to me forcing him off me (I have no issue with that) - that's not the kind of thing I speak of here. In these surroundings it can be easy for a girl to fall in line with the 'a boy will only like me for sex' kind of thinking. I guess what I am saying is while I am not one to let someone use me, especially physically, I have allowed this kind of thing, on a smaller scale, to go on.

I think self-esteem plays a big role in this kind of behavior, another reason this topic is hot on the mind - today has been a low self-esteem day (which fortunately for me is something I am not too often affected by). When I am feeling critical of myself and a certain someone else is presenting with confidence and being so sure of themselves (and sometimes putting me down at the same time) I feel my power being stripped and as if I have to give them what they want. If a confident boy is saying to me, 'I have other girls waiting to date me so it has to be all in or all out,' for instance, the part of Kristy that lacks in confidence will give him what he wants. This train of thought is leading into the issue of respect and whether the guy respects me. On a low self esteem day I may ask myself the (obviously ridiculous) questions, do I deserve this respect? Or what can I do different to gain this respect? Which further encourages the confidence in the boy and the put down of me and leads into the doing what the boy wants which of course only leads to a deeper lack of respect.

This is the part where I'd go on to speak about how I am to correct this issue. But I don't need to do that, it's all obvious - love, girl power, R-E-S-P-E-C-T! Perhaps I'll watch an episode of Gilmore Girls to learn a valuable lesson in how to relate to boys :p

I think I have some in my drawer at home?

Sharp pain in the chest along with a fast racing heart. Head light and dizzy, however full and pounding at the same time. Stomach aching with nausea, pleading for vomiting. Panic felt for no reason which results in panic over the panic, because I know how bad it can be. Where's that Valium?! Oh, that's right, I threw it all away! Quite rightly too, Valium is only an easy way out. And how so easy it is, how blissfully quiet my previously anxious world turns once I slip a few. Yes, definitely for the best that they have been tossed.

So what's happening now? Is it just the pressures of this life I am living, combined with the pressures of the upcoming Board Meeting resulting in a temporary relapse? Because I am certainly not going back to that place, I won't allow it!...or am I? The images are returning, thoughts become obsessive. Where's that Valium?! Oh, that's right, I threw it all away!

I remind myself to remind myself it will pass and when it does I won't even believe that it was felt at all. Because Kristy's world will be grand again. Right now it feels all encompassing and permanent but at the back of my mind I know better, I know it will pass, let it pass... Where's that Valium?! Oh, that's right, I threw it all away!

The best thing I can do is to not let myself use the anxiety as an excuse to 'get out' of something, in this case - work. It's a duel between my subconscious and conscious selves. Both stubborn, neither wanting to back down. The subconscious part of me thinks it better to avoid a challenge, it's main deciding tool is past experience and it's main motivator is to relieve discomfort. The conscious part knows that dealing with the challenge head on and leaving it in it's dust is truly the best way to eliminate discomfort, it's main tool is logic and main motivator is logic. I'm calming down...logic wins.

Sunny Beans

Today is the first day in September and the first day of Spring. Spring is a beautiful season; birth of new life and new possibilities, optimism and hope are in the air. I am very much looking forward to the nicer weather it brings as well.

I am saddened to be leaving August, however. August being Hands Up For the Homeless month; raising money and awareness by cruising the city streets in my pjs with a teddy and balloons in hand or hosting a Hands Up morning tea at work was loads of fun. I have worn wrist bands to represent what it all means and to stand up for the cause all throughout the month. Every time I have seen the bold colors wrapped around my wrist I would think of my commitment to not just this cause but commitment to living my life dedicated to improve the lives others in this world. A burst of excitement and passion every time I saw the bands, a feeling of comfort as I slept with the bands attached to me; I will certainly miss that. They are still on my wrists, I think it is time *removes bands.* Fortunately I move straight from one project to the next. Tonight I am hitting up Anglicare to hopefully get involved in their volunteer program mentoring foster children.

Yes, I will absolutely feel less hungry if I eat half my bean and give the other half to someone with no bean than if I ate the whole bean.