Letter to me

So currently sitting on the floor of my makeshift closet for the 4th hour, hating on myself, feeling like a general shit storm, basically blaming myself for everything that is happening in my world. Basically the “why aren’t you better?” narrative.

I wrote a letter to myself a little bit ago that called me out on all the shit that I’ve been doing to myself, that I promised myself i wouldn’t do. So here is that:

Hey you,

I just wanna apologize for all the shit I put you through. I know I over work you, keep you up and run you dry. I know that “self-care” is not wanted but rarely taken. I’m sorry. Rarely do I ever say “hey! You deserve a break! We should take one of those.” Rather the battery has run dry and we’re down to our last energy stores in a desperate plea to keep going. Just one more mile, just a few more things, just one last favour, THEN we’ll deserve that break.

The thing is that I still have no idea what that charger is. Everyone suggests all these ideas to recharge, but regardless I get more and more tired. It’s like I’m trying to plug myself into a bunch of different adaptors, and though they kinda fit, they’re not charging properly. I’m working on that. Slowly.

The fact of the matter is, that helping people simultaneously recharges and drains me. I feel really good when I’m doing it, until the stress of everything hits me and suddenly I feel like I’m drowning. I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know when to stop. If I’m there I wanna finish the job, whether it kills me or not. The biggest curse is that I’m too helpful. I know that people use that as a way to make themselves look good, but not in this case. I help people to the point that I don’t have energy, patience or time to help myself. I put the mask on everyone else on that plane but forgot to put it on myself. I’m trying to stop. I promise. So this is a promise I need to make to you. It might not happen now, but it’s gonna happen.

Dear mind,

I’m sorry I’m so horrible to you. I’m sorry that I say horrible things and make you over work and over think about unimportant things. Things that have happened in the past, things that MIGHT happen in the future, things that don’t even matter. I promise I’m gonna try and fill you with good thoughts

Dear Body,

I’m sorry I torture you. Make you work hours, days, weeks on end with no break aside from sleep. I’m sorry that the words “self-care” haven’t quite reached you yet. I promise I’ll try harder to dedicate time for you to rest. I’ll make small moments to recharge during the day, and give you big rests regularly.

Dear me,

I’m sorry I’m so hard on you. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re doing well, and the fact that you’re here and breathing instantly makes you better than everything that I’ve been telling you for the past 10 years. You’re not fat, ugly, stupid or horrible at all. You’re amazing. Start believing it.

Regards,

Lina 

I keep feeling like I’m getting better, but feel like I’m steps behind where I should be considering I’m been in this mental hellhole for 5 years. I keep trying to compare myself to others, and that’s my biggest downfall. I blame all the issues of the world on myself, and I know I need to stop.

This post was a post for me, and because I hadn’t posted here for a while. I’m studying nursing amidst a pandemic, so bear with me and my absence. But I guess if it helps to hold yourself accountable to yourself, and apologise to yourself for being too hard on yourself, then do it. Ask yourself, if someone were to say all the things you say to you to a friend (that makes grammatical sense, I promise), would you be okay with that?

k.thnx.byee

Depression vs relationships

I broke down last night. There I said it. Anyone with depression would understand having enough, and just needing to collapse into a heaping mess because you’re just exhausted. That was me last night.

I hate being a burden on people that don’t get it. Mostly because no matter what you tell them they don’t exactly help most of the time. They try…but when you’re in the midst of it, all you want to do is relate. You wanna not feel like you’re the weird one of the lot. Not that they mean it, but they tend to do the disregarding of feelings and try and prove that your feelings are just a creation in your own head. But someone who relates knows all the techniques and things that makes them feel better. I’m not saying that everyone has type of depression, but they can relate to you and understand not quite understanding why you’re a heaping mess.

So, my boyfriend is one of the ones that has not been through it. He hasn’t been through the trenches and hells of mental health. Honestly, I wouldn’t want him to. I wouldn’t wish this upon my worst enemy let alone the one that I love. But it also means that I can’t talk to him about this stuff. I know he wants to understand and it’s hard to watch him worry about me. I do my best to tell him when I’m okay what he can do to help, and that’s all you can do. I’ve given him a cheat sheet for my anxiety, which arguably is much easier to deal with than depression…for me at least. All he could do last night was hold me and do his best. Even through the fighting him off, all he knew to do was hold me.

I talked to a friend last night about it. He told me that even though I couldn’t talk to my boyfriend about it, there were people that I could talk about it with. People I could relate to. Finding that group is like having a “shared pain” scenario. Plus, I don’t necessarily want to have my boyfriend to take all the bad stuff anyway. Is that bad?… I know in relationships you’re supposed to take the good and the bad, but…. depression and all its quirks is A LOT. It’s not like he doesn’t have to deal with some of it, but putting that on him is far too much for him to handle. I don’t want that.

On the plus side. I’m finally getting help….again. Hopefully I won’t crack anymore.

To all that are reading this, I’m sorry for Sunday night. I’m going through some stuff that is hard to explain because I don’t completely understand it. I’m sorry for any worry or harm I caused. You don’t deserve it.

That’s it from me for a bit.

K.thx.bye

Reasons why

I’ve decided to stop with the desc. and cresc. just because my posts are a mix of both. I’m trying to find the good in the bad…thus I don’t want to say that they’re good or bad specifically. Still gonna continue posting (when I can) though.

And with that. On with the post

So. I did a bit of psychoanalysis on myself. I honestly didn’t realise how much emotional abuse i copped until I started delving into why I did certain things, was afraid of other things, and had certain thoughts.

OCD

I’ve talked about this before, but I have OCD about time and money. Basically anything to do with numbers. Something that I’ve never actually been able to shake. To others having a few hundred in your spendings account is a lot. Like I’ve always found it strange that people can see $20 in their account and go “yes. I still have money I can spend”. When i go look in my bank account and see anything below $400 my mind goes into panic mode. Mind you, this is my spendings account. Not my savings. Last week i had somewhere around that mark in my spending and my mind went “whelp…guess im not going out and spending for the next week!”. Same thing goes with time. If someone tells me to be somewhere at 11, you better believe I’ll be there at least 10 mins early, with me apologizing i wasnt a shit tonne earlier!

Now you might be wondering “but what does that have to do with emotional abuse?” I think this is the least abusey thing, but my parents have always been a steggler for time. If I’m even 5 mins behind schedule, then I cop so much talk about how I should have been better, and earlier and faster. Whether it was my fault or not. I have been told so many times that things are my fault and put down that many times that I blame myself for majority of the things that happen. Its not “how can i learn from this?” It’s “you are useless, and horrible. What are you doing?”

The ‘silent’ treatment

A massive issue i have with my mental health is that i literally have zero clue how to talk about it. I have a tendency to shut up about it. I tend to worry people because I just passive aggressively say “I’m fine” and leave it at that. I think everyone who has ever had chronic mental health issues can recount the countless stories of people telling them to “get over it” and others telling them “but my life is worse”. I’ve had that from my family all my life. I’ve literally taken that on. My thinking process is not “stop sulking and stop being a drama queen”. Because I never really had too many close friends til i was in uni, I got used to no onr caring about my issues and feelings. I processed them in my head, and swept it under the carpet. If i was ever sad or in a shit mood, the usual response wasn’t “hey what’s wrong? Let’s talk about it”, it was “hey, what’s wrong? Stop sulking, your life is perfect”. Hearing that from people that you dont know is barely okay….hearing thst from people who are meant to be your carers and the ones who love you the most…i dont know. Theres something off about that.

Jealousy

Even jealousy. I hate and i mean HATE that feeling. I think its a useless feeling that is not required. But i feel it so often. I got quite jealous of someone that my other half was hanging out with. Now, this is okay. He’s allowed to hang out with whomever he likes. But my issue was that I put it in my head that she was perfect. I had put her in a golden throne in my head in the worst was possible. I literally compared her to me and convinced myself that she was better than me in every way….just the way that my parents did to me. Every time I did an achievement, it would never be enough. They would compare me to my older brother or someone who was gifted in books. I dont think i even heard the words “well done” when i graduated uni. They did however critique me on how i didn’t graduate with distinction. They have also said “why don’t you get a job with your brother? He can get you in”. Despite the fact I’ve told them multiple times, I’m a hands on caring person. I like the face to face interactions and the caring component of my job. He works in an office from 9-5 or there abouts….minimal contact with anyone, just the way he likes it. I’ve always been lead to believe that I’ll always be second best…why would i believe now, after 20 years, that I am good enough or that I’m first choice?

What is help?

I’ve turned down so many opportunities and avoided asking people for help to get me out of situations because I’m terrified of people asking me why I want to do something. I’m scared that my reasons wouldn’t be “good enough” for them, or that they’ll tell me that I’m “stupid for getting into this mess”. I’m so used to being wrong, and always having to admit i was wrong. I’ve second guessed myself too many times to count, had multiple panic attacks because I can’t decide. Again, why would I believe I was correct when I’ve always had to be the “bigger person” and been told that I was wrong? I’ve never been told “you were right and i was wrong” in my family. That only solidifies when i make a mistake actually and people get to say i told you so to me. They have every right to.

I think the worst part about their denial is that if i try and “talk to them about it” like I’ve been asked to, they’ll deny everything or mock the crap out of me, make excuses, or whatever. I mean, my mum read my diary. She justified this by saying it was out, so i must’ve “wanted her to read it”. It recounted all the times i harmed myself. We have never talked about it. She both said it was not her fault, in a lengthy letter blaming me for never talking to her, and blaming “the devil that lives inside me” that i need to “pray out of me”.

I’ve second guessed whether I’ve over reacted. Maybe this is normal and I’ve just blown things out of proportion. But i honestly have no clue anymore. I’ve been told that it is emotional abuse but i dont realise it because its literally a sense of homeostasis. I’ve gotten so used to it it’s a new norm.

This post will probably be added to in the future. But it’s 4.36am and sleep is probably needed.

K.thx.bye

That ‘self care’ thing

Writing about 5 blogs at once. Two of which are for this blog. The other ones are for the placement.

I’ve been in complete work mode for the past 2 weeks. Between placement, work and obligotarily going to gigs and open mics, and just doing a bunch of things for others opposed to myself, I’ve realised that I zapped all the emotional energy from my system. This happens relatively often, so fair to say I’m used to it. Last night I snapped. I had anxiety attacks and depressive episodes at the same time. To the point where I didn’t have energy to have another anxiety attack….I had one like 10 mins later.

By the way, for those who don’t know and don’t have them, anxiety attacks and panic attacks that last a while are freaking tiring. I think I’ve said it before in a previous blog, but man, any energy you could have possibly had left, all gone. Whether that be physical energy or emotional energy. Now…I was in a public place, and I was essentially hiding it, so my attacks came in waves of adrenaline and deep depression. Any conversations were an attempt of me gathering every last bit of energy left in me to just talk. So I said it in the last post (knowing anxiety), and I’ll say it again…don’t freaking hide an anxiety attack…it’s not fun.

Okay. Back to the self care…yeah. that’s an important thing. I really can’t stress this enough. Honestly. I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve sat there and told myself “I’ll relax when….” Or “I’ll eat properly after…..”, And not realised that my work and concentration levels are being affected because I haven’t taken care of myself. Particularly, when you have a mental health conditions, making sure you are practicing self care is SO GOD DAMN IMPORTANT.

Stress is a part of life, it’s hard on anyone, and people without MH condition take time out to make sure they’re okay. So why is so hard for us to do it? Why is it so damn hard for us to relax?… I’ll tell you why. Guilt. We feel guilty for relaxing, and taking time to ourselves. But we have to. It’s this realisation that I think we all have, but none of us are willing to follow through with. I know I’ve sat there and convinced myself that I don’t need to get up and eat because it’ll be a waste of time…. literally. I’ve got up because I was hungry and convinced myself that food isn’t as important as my work….who the hell does that?! I know food is a fairly fundamental basic necessity of life…but nah…I don’t need it.

So stress. When you have a MH condition, impacts you so much more. It’s like you’re already struggling with day to day life…getting out of bed and finding motivation to do normal stuff, and then you’ve got this added challenge of meeting expectations.

I really don’t know where I’m going with this. But self care isn’t about going to a day spa and pampering yourself. Self care is taking time to do something you WANT to do, opposed to doing something that you feel you have to do. If that means reading a book, then do that. For me it’s listening to music and watching BuzzFeed unsolved videos for hours on end. Even writing these blogs. Doing it because I wanna do it.

But I think that’s it from me. I don’t know whether that made any sense at all. So under the advice of my lovely boyfriend, I’m setting up a Facebook page. This blog started as a way to desperately try and explain my brain, whilst also start a conversation about mental health. This will hopefully add to the conversation…opposed to make people feel sorry for me. That’s the very last thing I want. I will link that in the next post, once I have the whole thing set up. Okay. I’m gonna go watch more YouTube videos.

K.thnx.bye

Knowing anxiety (desc.)

‘you can’t know what that experience is unless..well..you know it.’

I’m sorry I haven’t been writing often, but like. Let’s be honest, I’m terrible at keeping schedule. I’ve been writing blogs non stop for a bit, about mental health, just not for this blog. I’ll post some of them soon or at least link them for you guys. But anyway onto this blog.

I watch this show called the Fosters. No sorry, I’m minorly obsessed with this show. One of the characters has panic attacks, (which by the way is surprisingly accurate to how I feel, but not how I actually act) and her mum walks in to calm her down…using the 5,4,3,2,1 technique. Post anxiety attack they have a heart to heart about anxiety, and the quote above is said. It rang far too true to me.

As much as I wish I could say that I could explain it, and as much as I do try and explain the feeling of an anxiety attack, you cannot truly understand the feeling of a panic attack until you actually experience it. All I can say is that, it is not an experience I wouldn’t even wish on my worst enemy. Though I know that my current worst enemy has DEFINITELY experienced it.

I think that’s one of the main problems with treating mental health conditions. It’s so hard to explain what an anxiety or depression is like. Not only does it not strike each person differently, but most of the time, it doesn’t even present the same each time I have an episode. Honestly, sometimes I catch myself in a depressive episode and wonder whether I’m just being lazy and forgot to take my meds or something, or I’m actually having a down. Unfortunately, particularly with depressive episodes, they’re both completely spontaneously and yet so gradual at the same time. They seem to come out of nowhere, but you feel like the feeling of being down has been there all along. ‘you don’t know the feeling, til you…well.. know it’.

With my anxiety, it has so many triggers. Tonight, in fact, I found out that a potential trigger is large crowds of people I don’t know. I think that’s a fairly common one. But I’ve been triggered previously by certain smells. Those are ones that I can usually identify though. So for me, I connect people to smells, especially with partners and people that I am close to. So when I have a relationship break down (see my most toxic relationship) and I smell that someone’s scent then my brain goes into panic mode.

I think the other thing that this scene raised was the way people react to mental illnesses, particularly when there is no diagnosis of mental illness. There is a large and sad tendency for people to tell you to ‘get over it’. In fact during a panic attack, I’ve been told to just ‘calm down’. Which terrifies me. It terrifies me to know that people that don’t necessarily know what’s happening have been told to just sweep it under the rug when they have an issue, opposed to actually try and fix it. And hey. GUESS WHAT! That makes it worse!! (Shock horror! If you aggravate a problem IT GETS WORSE!). But what is hard to explain to someone that hasn’t ever experienced a panic attack that it’s something you have to ride out, and that if you try and ignore it, “calm down”, or hide it, it makes it last longer or makes it get worse.

All I have to say about this episode is that it is scarily accurate to what I have experienced. Thank you for giving representation to anxiety attacks and mental health in general. The way that it was portrayed was so accurate and so relatable. That was to a personal experience only, so to others it might seem quite staged…but each to their own.

Anyway, that’s it from me. I’ll be sure to link my other more professionally blogs, you know, when they actually get posted..

K.thx.bye

Why I moved out (desc)

Now slight disclaimer. A lot of what I’m about to write in this post has shook some of my closest friends to the core. If you need help or to get out of an unsafe situation you need to tell someone. I’m not an example to follow by. 

So I moved out of a really nice place, convinient to work and University as well as a shopping mall and my boyfriend. The official story as to why I moved out was to help out a mate. Which is true. He needed a housemate to cover the costs of this house so he wouldn’t have to pay double rent alone. But the truth is he did me a huge favour and got me out of one of the most terrifyingly unsafe situations of my life. 

So in September 2017, I moved into an apartment block with a couple aged in their 50’s (I can only assume). This was an amazing situation for me! It was close to work, university and all the public transport I needed. The wife was amazing! She cooked for me the first night I lived there, and the food was great. I had my own bathroom and the rent was pretty damn cheap. To top it all off, my boyfriend lived a short 5 minute walk away from me. Unfortunately, that’s pretty much the only good things about this place. 

So at this stage, I’m a uni student, so I’m pretty shitty with my money….or so they can only assume. So on the second week, the man offers me $80 to give him a “massage”. Me being the naive 21 year old I am, assume that that means its a back rub. So I accept. Little did I know, this meant a full head to toe, body massage. This required him to strip naked, lock the door and lay on a massage chair in my room. Now, people may know, I am a carer at an aged care place, thus body parts don’t really bother me, but this was super creepy. At work, I have to clean residents, I have to see said body parts for maybe 2 mins max. The awkward situation I was in was me without gloves, massaging this guy’s crotch whilst he’s making some ‘pleasured’ sound effects. Fair to say I refused to do that again. When I told him this, he pretty much begged me to do it again and that pissed me off. I said no about 10 times and the last time he said ‘oh but you hesitated that time! You were thinking about it!’…at this stage I wanted to punch him then leave, but I didn’t. No. I didn’t, my thoughts were ‘are you fucking kidding me right now? You can’t be serious’. He left the alone after that…sorta. I wish that was the last incident. 

There are a few occasions where I like wearing shorts, and showing off my legs. Look, I know that I have a nice butt, but I don’t need anyone to tell me that, aside from my boyfriend. I, ESPECIALLY, don’t need a mid 50 year old man to tell me this. But no. I got comments such as ‘wow wow wow, you have a nice butt’ or ‘why don’t you wear shorts around the house anymore? you look sexy in then’. The annoying thing is that he thought they were appropriate comments. Even when I would physically move away from him, he would continue. The same comments were made on my boobs. 

One incident, we were talking about the fact I need to close my windows and these comments about my boobs were made. I had a t-shirt on, but no bra, and I was feeling particularly uncomfortable, so I crossed my arms over my boobs and very hesitantly went thanks. I think that’s a pretty clear indication of ‘please get out, I feel very uncomfortable right now’. Instead, he came over and went ‘dont be silly’ and forcibly dragged my arms apart. A few minutes after he left, he knocked on my door and let himself in, and gave me the shortest pair of jean shorts I have ever seen, and told me to have them. I rejected and he pretty much threw them at me. After he left that time I locked the door and cried because I was traumatized. I threw the shorts in the bin. 

To top it all off, on the last night, we were talking about how to get the bond back to me. We got it sorted and he asked for a hug as it would be the last night. I thought ‘okay. I’m good with hugs’. I hadn’t quite extended my arm properly and he said ‘whats with this one armed bandit?’ and he hugged me properly, then decided it would be appropriate to touch my butt. I jumped back and went nope. To which his response was ‘i was just joking’ like it was a joke.

To top it all off, whilst I was there I got the sex talk and the ‘boys are stupid’ talk, several times in the 4 months I was there. He told me that boys don’t like condoms and they will pull it off during sex without me knowing. Oh believe me. I know, it’s happened before. I took the EC and was fine.. I told him I’m safe and he insisted I wasn’t and basically tried convincing me not to have sex. So… I’m on the pill…and know how to not be stupid and take the EC. The stupid thing about these ‘conversations’ was that, out of all the guys I know and have met, I felt the most unsafe around him. This includes all the guys I’ve talked to on tinder in the past. And he was giving me a lecture on how I need to be safe around guys. 

 Thinking back on it, I really want to punch him, but I know that will never happen. 

Now you may be wondering ‘Lina, why didn’t you fight back or report this?’ well, if anyone has ever experienced a traumatic event of any sort, there’s those times where you kinda just freeze and are at a loss as to what to do…that happened. As for reporting them. I wanted my bond back. If I left on bad terms I would never see that money. I didn’t sign a lease so there is no evidence that he owes me that money. So if I sucked it up and left on good terms I’d get everything I deserved. Also I’m the biggest wuss around and very rarely stand up for myself. 

Anyhow, I’m safe now and living with my friend and know that I’m now safe. 

To everyone I told whilst all this was going on, thank you. You guys helped me through in ways that you will never understand. And to my gorgeous boyfriend, thank you for offering me sanctuary and letting me stay over so often. You’re amazing. 

That’s it for now. I need to get unpacking properly so that’s it. 

K.thnx.bye

I’m (not) fine (desc.)

I think I might start doing the life update at the end…I don’t know when I’ll actually finish this. Who knows, I might actually have one coherent post!…on to said potential coherent post then…

Ahh….the age-old phrase “I’m fine”.. Used so commonly by so many people that are definitely NOT fine. Used commonly by me, almost exclusively in the times that I’m dying on the inside. For me, that phrase is the biggest curse in disguise. When I use that phrase, I get one of two reactions: people who leave it alone, and people who call bullshit.

Calling bullshit

Now, sometimes, and I mean SOMETIMES, the people that I am okay with calling bullshit, actually DO help me out…as much as they can against my stubbornness to help myself in those shitty times…these people are angels that slap sense into me. But you know those people that, you’re friends with, but you’re not ACTUALLY that close to them? Like they’re nice enough, and you don’t exactly have a reason NOT to be friends with them, but you wouldn’t voluntarily go out with them alone on your own accord…yea. THOSE friends. I’ve had times where THOSE friends have called bullshit about my “fineness”, and OH BOY do I not wanna talk about it to them. Like, I barely ever talk to you on a regular basis, so why would I tell you about my issues, that by the way, I don’t completely understand myself?
Okay, okay, this is starting to make me sound super ungrateful. I do appreciate what they’re trying to do, but please don’t continue poking and prodding at the issue when I say I REALLY don’t wanna talk about it. If I wanna talk to you about the issue, I will in my own time, just let me hide amongst my pillows and blankets a little longer, behind my mask that I have so desperately tried to make look realistic and let me be.

Then there’re the times that I’ve actually been fine…not good, just fine….and these friends call my “bullshit” and make a good day bad. Okay, let me explain. So, you know that mask I briefly mentioned a couple of sentences ago? So when I’m a heaping mess and need to function as a decent member of society, that mask goes on. Whether it looks real or like a 2-year-old painted it, I have no clue, but nonetheless, it goes on. Sometimes I wear that mask for so long that, I trick myself into thinking I’m happier than I actually am. Which to me, I honestly think is awesome. Happy is happy, if I believe it, then I’m happy. So when someone calls my “bullshit” about me being fine, when I legitimately am, then I begin overthinking my happiness. When I begin overthinking, you better believe, I will OVERTHINK that shit to death. “Hmm, maybe they’re right, maybe I’m not happy, am I happy? What is happy? Was that joke yesterday even funny or was I just conforming?” and suddenly, I’m in bed not particularly wanting to move. That overthinking quite literally sent me into a depressive episode…yea.

Leaving it alone

This also can be one of two people. The people that believe me, and the people that are calling my bluff but understand that I don’t want to talk about it.
In the moment, these people are amazing. “Oh yay! My mask is working! I can continue dying on the inside and I don’t have to talk about this!” I think to myself. Now, you may think, “hmm, this is probably the way to go…just leave her alone when she say’s I’m fine.” NO! Even though it’s what I want in the moment, I know consciously that it’s not good for me. I mean, why do you think I write these blogs? I need to tell someone, as well as attempt to figure out what exactly is going on inside my head.

Talking about your feelings even if you don’t fully understand your feelings is super important. In all honesty, I think bottling it up 10 years ago was toxic for me, and the effects have lasted. So whilst I don’t want to talk about my feelings in the moment, it is probably healthier than not talking about it.

For the most part, my concern about talking to people about my feelings comes from not wanting them to be concerned about me and also not wanting them to misconstrue the information I gave them and think that it was an invitation to watch over me like a hawk to make sure that I don’t do anything…stupid. I’ve discussed this in many of my other blogs (or so I think/hope). But in case I haven’t, the last thing I want to do during these times is draw attention to myself, thus the desperate attempt to convince people I am “fine”. The thing I hate most it people watching over me. I’m not a child or a pet, I’m not really too likely to do anything stupid..and again it kinda makes me feel worse. Its just not necessary. 

In all honesty, I still have no clue what to do if I say that toxic phrase, but I definitely know that I need to stop using it, because it’s just a flat out lie that is honestly hurting more than it’s helping. As per usual, these are only my sides of the story. Other people may actually be telling the truth and other people might just be really good actors. I can’t tell you who’s who, and this isn’t really an advice column, just a general opinion. Mind you, if you are struggling, please tell someone, don’t swipe it off. It’s not good, and trust me, me being a hypocrite to this…. I’m aware it’s much easier said than done. 
Life update: it’s been a pretty crappy week…. let’s be honest. Got texts from someone that I really didn’t want to get texts from and just in a bit of a rut since. Unless I said anything to you, it really wouldn’t be noticeable that I’m forcing myself out of bed and using every last bit of energy to not stay at home and just sleep. But this is going on Facebook so who knows who’ll know now. Just want to add that the situation has been resolved… hopefully and I’ll be out of my rut as soon as I can get the energy to be a productive member of society again. 

That’s it from me. I have a few other posts up my sleeve so watch out for them. 

K.thx.bye

The 61.6 percent (cresc.)

Oh please, like you didn’t know this was coming. I’m a part of the LGBTI+ community, OF COURSE this post was coming out (pardon the pun). Anyhow, yes! Majority of people in Australia want the laws surrounding marriage changed. All my rainbow family is celebrating because we are supposedly ‘finally being accepted’, meanwhile I’m sitting here because I know this is just another day. This survey doesn’t mean anything. Via the various surveys (of which there were many) surrounding marriage equality, we already knew that the majority of people in Australia wanted the same-sex marriage to pass. Has this ACTUALLY changed any laws yet? No. The plebiscite just confirms an opinion that we knew all along. If it went the other way THEN I would have been surprised.

After this survey,  my Facebook feed just filled with celebration photos and posts, rightfully so. This is a win! (though it doesn’t sound like I think so, but HOPEFULLY, the laws will legitimately change sooner rather than later). It’s one more step towards having equality in the world. This doesn’t just mean in marriage but also families where a child may have homosexual parents. What is happening at the moment (to my understanding) is that the non-biological parent in the same-sex couple raising a child is not the child’s legal guardian. By law, the next of kin (NOK) to the child is the biological grandparents or aunt or uncle. Why would this matter? Well, in the horrible situation that the biological parent was to pass away, though the non-biological parent was raising the child, would not gain legal custody of the child as they are not the NOK. By the way, this doesn’t happen if the couple is married. I.e. Step parents are NOK because they are married in HETEROSEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS. Bottomline, marriage good.

So two things happen after the results:

Why do you care?
After the results were released I received a message from a friend asking if I was happy with the results. Of course, I was happy. I followed up my happiness with the fact that it didn’t mean that the laws would change, basically what I’ve said earlier in the post about still not meaning that two people of the same gender being able to be married. I spoke quite passionately (and possibly ranted a bit…sorry friend!) about it. His reply was “You’re with a guy, why are you so passionate?”, which is a fair question. I mean, these laws wouldn’t affect me in the event that I do end up with my current partner, so why does this matter so much?

Well, for one, I’ve only been with this guy for about 2 or 3 months, not a long time in the grand scheme of things. I’ve been in relationships for much longer and been convinced that I’d grow old with them, then split up with them. I don’t take for granted that this could all go to hell in an instant. Which means that in the event I do in the distant future want to marry a girl, I want to be able to. Though that is in a hypothetical situation very far down the line.

Moreover, I have a lot of friends in the rainbow clan that identify as gay or lesbian, and do not have the privilege of marrying their partner due to current laws. I don’t think that’s fair whatsoever. As well as that, there is still some discrimination around the LGBTI+ community, though it has reduced, it still exists.

Generation gap
So on the day of the results, I had work. I work in the aged care industry as a carer. Essentially helping the elderly do what they can’t do themselves (dealing with lots of bodily fluids and functions). Of course when I walk into work, on all the TV channels are the news with people covered in rainbow flags and face paint. I sorta made some comments to myself about the laws, but the general opinion was not in favour.

Every time I work in one of the wings, there are a few “female carer only” residents. Lucky for me, those residents are fairly easy, some are very particular, but all fairly easy to assist. So I walked into the room to assist my favourite resident (yes, she is my favourite. No, we’re probably not supposed to have favourites. No, I don’t care). On the TV is, of course, the news.

This is the moment I realise I cannot talk about this topic in this setting and the moment I realised the true difference of opinion in the generation gap. She told me that she had spun herself into a bad mood due to the results being released. Now, I really do love caring for this resident, she is a lovely lady that I always give cuddles to, go in early to work for just for chats, and just love talking to, but her comments just struck a chord in me. In that moment, I had to switch up my ‘opinion’ on the topic and make sure that she was alright despite my values and beliefs. She is fairly religious, and her problem was that she didn’t want to change the meaning of the word. It was less so about two people of the same sex being together, and more about the religion for her.

So for me personally, I have a lot of issues with working in the aged care, or as a carer in general. For the most part, I am significantly taller than a lot of other carers, therefore I have to bend a lot when working with them. Also because I’m tall I have to raise the beds higher, which takes a minute longer than if I was shorter. Another disadvantage for me is I am significantly younger than the majority of the people that work there, and therefore I have a much more contemporary way of thinking. I like to think that I’m very open-minded and accepting, but that way of thinking is not shared with most people there. I am okay with this, but it can make it harder for me to work.

Me, coming from a not so open-minded, old-fashioned thinking family, who I, by the way, haven’t done a whole coming out thing to, and frankly, don’t plan on doing till it is necessary, I’m fairly used to hearing that “homosexuality is a sin because bible!” thing. In terms of my mental health, it is a tad disheartening, but on the same token, I like to think that I’m not the type to say that people who don’t support the rainbow clan are evil. You believe what you wanna believe. NOW, I reckon people who beat other people up because of stuff they can’t change, THEY’RE horrible…but if you’re not hurting me or my friends directly, then it may be a tad disheartening that you don’t support my life choices…but you do you.

For me, the results of this plebiscite doesn’t really mean anything unless something is done because of it. If nothing results from it, then the government just wasted millions of dollars to confirm the opinion that we knew all along. So yeah….that’s my 5 cents about that.

Life update

I don’t know….there really hasn’t been much that happened. Working? Life? The usual crap. But I am in a fairly positive mood. Hayfever sucks though, the majority of the time I really can’t tell if it’s hayfever or I’m legitimately getting a cold, but WELCOME TO SPRING!…yeah….okay, I’m done.

k.thx.bye

Only 10 mins early? (Desc.)

Currently sitting downstairs in my apartment block waiting for my boyfriend to get here so we can have a cute dinner date. It’s 830. It takes 15 or so mins to get there and the place closes at 1030pm. 

Most people would probably just chill out about it and be like “oh that’s plenty of time”. But oh anxiety, how I hate you and your non relaxing ways. My brain is scrambling and telling me that it’s too late and we’re not gonna have enough time to eat before the place closes. Or that there’s not gonna be enough space at the place. 

So the thing is the thing that triggers my anxiety the most, is being late to things. I was on the way to the doctors and I was only gonna be on time to it. If you have ever been to a doctor, you’d probably know that more often than not, they’re running behind time. Guess who still had an anxiety attack about the fact they wouldnt be early!…yeah. me

Now. There are many nights where I have spent the night at my boyfriend’s house when he’s had work the next morning. What I have learnt from this is that though he’s never actually late, he’s always cutting it close…by the way, not my fault whatsoever. I stay out of his way! I.e. in his bed whilst he’s rushing about around me. 

Mind you, still not the worst story in terms of tardiness and reliability, he’s not the worst. I mean he’s actually shown up, and given me time updates, which I appreciate and also do when I’m running late. (The funny thing is the first time we met, I was running late to the house inspection and have texts of me telling him I was gonna be a bit late). Majority of the time, my ex didn’t even show up to our catch ups because he was sick or asleep, conveniently only on the day that we needed to meet up. I know it was legit…I think…but really? 

So I wrote this last night. Turns out the place that I wanted to go is closed for renovations, which sucks but we were surrounded by a bunch of other restaurants so not too bothered by that, though I was totally up for hotpot last night, ah well. The date was awesome, as was the food. I feel like I may have oversold it to him though, he was in a freaking suit and tie to a casual joint. Mind you he looked hot as hell but still. I felt underdressed around him. He’s precious on so many levels. 

Anyway. I know there was a point to this, something like, anxiety attacks for really random reasons? I don’t know…I was having an anxiety attack, thinking straight isn’t my forte…..so. that’s where I’ll leave that….

K.thx.bye

Me too (desc.)

Ah. Another day another Facebook trend. I’ve been seeing this thing about sharing stories of sexual harassment and assault. Basically, they want to get as many people as possible to share their stories to hopefully see a change. Honestly, I want to see a change in the way authority deals with this so I’m fully behind this.

I think the ironic thing is that I was talking about this to my boyfriend last night, and it wasn’t even because of this. Just a general level of conversation in the car about serious matters that should probably be talked about.

To be quite frank, I don’t like to use the term harassment lightly. I’ve had my fair share of wolf whistles, being shouted at from cars, and ‘daayyyuummm guuurrlll’ from guys in the past. Even had strangers plain ask me for sex then back off, only when they hear I have a boyfriend. I think this behavior is stupid and ignorant, and I don’t condone it whatsoever, but in terms of sexual harassment, though by definition is technically true – I don’t see it that way. Then again what do I know, right?

But definitions aside, I have experienced harassment. No blurred lines whatsoever. And the stupid thing is that it goes back to my good friend ‘Tinder’. Should I have ever expected anything more from it? Probably not. This guy’s profile wasn’t all that flash, but it had a guy with a saxophone in it so I thought…’he could be cool’. Oh, I couldn’t be more wrong.

We met up in the city and all he wanted to do was make out with me….he eventually wore me down with his persistence and we made out. Soon, he asked me to go to his house, I didn’t want to but again…his persistence was high and we went back to his house (on the other side of the city to me). He ensured me that nothing would happen…far out Lina! How naive could you be?!?

So we got back to his and he basically threw me on his bed and made out with me….you can guess what happened next. Lots of regrets for me…including unprotected regrets without my knowledge.

He took the train back into the city with me afterward and begged to see me again….hmm…maybe.. we’ll see

A little while later he ended up texting me and asking me if we could meet up again. I told him the truth and said no. What followed was him essentially attacking me because I was refusing to have sex with him again. It got to the point where one of my friends had to hack into my account to message him and tell him to back off. “Hacking? really? Why couldn’t you just block him yourself?”. You know those moments that you freeze up and your actions are no longer logical? Yeah. That.

During the 5 minutes that my friend was talking to this guy, he proceeded to ask her whether she’d have a threesome. The conversation ended with my friend threatening to report him to the police for harassment and him telling me it was our loss.

Mind you, there have been a few other guys that have had questionable actions around me, some of these events even causing me anxiety when I am in certain places or doing certain things. But, as far as harassment goes, this guy was the worst.

So many people have told me to report this guy but I haven’t. There is a certain amount of pain that a person must endure for anything to happen to the perpetrator, sometimes the pain isn’t worth the fight. I can admit here and now that this isn’t the worst, or even close to as bad as some other cases, but this is my story.

I feel like the first few paragraphs will strike a few nerves, and that story in general feels very attention seeking, so I’m just gonna go and run whilst I still can. Yeah

k.thnx.bye