A Week In Review

I did four things differently last week.

1. I wrote every single day. I worked on blogs. I worked on a couple of longer/larger works I've been kicking around.
2. I turned off the notifications on my smartphone except for the ringer. I went from 8 AM Monday, August 4 to 8AM Monday, August 11 without being signaled by my phone. I only used it to answer calls or respond to messages (Hangouts, SMS) sent directly to me.
3.  From 10 PM Friday night to 10 PM Saturday night I did not use technology. My smartphone was off. My laptop was off. If I owned a TV it too would have been off. I went "No screens" for 24 hours.
4. I started x-stitching again. I'm using someone else's pattern to get my hands/fingers nimble again, but I will start creating new patterns next month.

So what does this all mean?

     a)  It means that my brain is less foggy.
     b)  It means that I both appreciate and respect the screens in my life a little more.
     c)  It means I got a METRIC SHIT TONNE done around the house.
     d)  I really enjoy stitching swear words and odd things into fabric.

Ultimately, this is what I learned:

1. My brain, some days, is not as broken as I think it is.
2. My Pavlovian response to my smartphone notifications isn't strong. That's actually a surprise. But I appreciate what they do for me to make my life easier and respect the fact they can also allow me to fuck up my day fast and efficiently.
3. I require 7 hours sleep to properly recover from a day of light activity. I require 9-10 hours sleep to properly recover from a day of heavy lifting and physical activity. This helps me with my time management more than I can possibly explain.
4. I really, really like to swear. A lot. Like as much as I love coffee and baked goods, I love to swear.
5. I really love lists, too.

If I had my way...

I would be packed and moved by now.

Right now I'm rationing the moving tasks so I don't just spend every waking moment living surrounded by all my packed up stuff until May 31.

Good news though! I still pretty much have everything I arrived from Vancouver with and we've barely added anything.

I guess there are bonuses to being fucking broke all the time.

***

I started a Coursera class on English composition to see if I can stop being tedious and stupidly wordy.

I'll let my future words speak for whether or not it was worth the time and effort.

***

I'm trying to focus on doing things that will propel my life forward.

I have no idea if its working at this point.

I'm not contemplating suicide so much anymore, so I guess it's doing something.

***

I think part of my problem is that I was being a hypocrite on a couple of levels.

See, I know how to get shit done. I know how to kick shit into order.

I just wasn't doing it because I don't like doing shit that is only for me. I don't like doing shit that only seems to matter to me.

There seems no point in doing shit if I'm the only one who sees it and cares about the results.

So I stopped doing shit because it was only for me and only mattered to me.

But then I realized that that attitude probably shows up in the rest of my life and if I want people to take me seriously professionally, I have to talk AND walk what I do in my personal life.

Otherwise, I'm just another person on the planet who wants you to do as I say, not as I do.

So fuck that.

I'm going to do some shit that will make people take me seriously.

Life wrap-up - Debrief - Part 2 of an Indeterminate Amount of Blog Posts

I'm only writing this today because of four people. Well, six if you include my parents who got it on just shy of 40 years ago leading to my birth 40 weeks later, but I digress.

I'm here today because I once had a best friend. A best friend who needed my help, and she said she would help me.

I'm here today because I flirted with a man on the internet and I wanted to find out if the online attraction worked out in real life.

***

On September 20, 2003 I got on an airplane. I had a few thousand dollars, a one-way ticket on a now-defunct airline that offered the aviation equivalent of Greyhound, and I had hope that something would be different.

My best friend and I would stop speaking the following March, and would not see each other again for five years. 

I'm here today because an ex-partner let me move in with him after we broke up because he realized that we didn't break up because we couldn't live together, and having someone splitting the rent and bills with was better than going it alone.

The online flirtation turned into a 15 month on-again, off-again, something or other. It ended with me screaming "Lose my number, pretend that I am dead." into the phone on Boxing Day afternoon, 2004.

10 months after that fateful bubble bath of rage and fury, I would marry a man I met online just days before that break-up telephone conversation. 

I didn't know that then. I didn't know that man's last name then. In that moment, I didn't know if I would ever speak to him again.

I would leave my ex-partner's apartment to move in with my spouse; just three doors down.

I'm here today because I met a man and the only way we could be together was to get married.

***

Ten years ago today I spent my first day in BC. Breakfast and coffee in North Vancouver. We visited 29th and a Half beach in West Vancouver because I had never seen the ocean, I got my first piece of beach glass there. Then we had more coffee and patio time at Bean Around the World in Ambleside. I was ridiculously dressed for West Vancouver. In hindsight, that should have been my first clue that where I had moved was not the big city I'd been hoping for. In hindsight, I am pretty sure that my "something or other" was kind of embarrassed by me. In hindsight, I was hopeful that something would be different.

***

So much has changed in ten years that I don't even recognize the person who got off that plane in 2003. I'm no longer a redhead. I no longer use $30 hair goop. I no longer wear stompy boots, or go clubbing, or drink 6 double shot lattes before 4 PM and smoke a pack a day.

***

As terrible as my first year in BC was, and as not quite as terrible as my last year was, I'm glad I did it. I'm glad I got on that plane. I'm glad that I loved two people enough to trust them, even if that trust ended up being a little misguided. I'm glad that I went to Bowen Island. I'm glad that I went to the parties, clubs, and The Cambie. I'm glad that I dressed ridiculously for West Vancouver, North Vancouver and Vancouver Vancouver. I'm glad that I bought yoga pants, and Gore-Tex fleece jackets, and learned to buy jackets with hoods and stop using umbrellas.

As much as I miss the weather, I am glad I don't live there. As much as I miss functional public transit, cheap and plentiful sushi, edible Indian food, and conveniently located amenities, I'm happy we left.

Edited to add the sentence that should have closed this post:

I miss my friends, but I'm relieved to be away from the place that never quite fit.

A good Friday

I got a lot done this Good Friday. I cleaned out the front closet leaving only what we will need to use for the rest of our time here (laundry soap, vacuum, broom, mop, dust brush) , the coats I am moving, and the coats the Joe needs to decide about. I vacuumed the floor of the closet and cleaned the top shelf. I cleaned out the four drawers I use as a bedside table. I cleaned out my hanging folder file drawer full of x-stitch patterns and cloth. I had this wild and crazy idea that I could move to Ontario with just one banker's box of craft supplies, but that is quickly going to become a funny idea I had once and had to reject in the face of reality.

Had some good new today as it relates to our move. I already feel less stress because of this news, but it certainly doesn't solve every problem, that's for sure.

Tomorrow we give notice on our apartment. I'm pretty excited about that because we both HATE THIS APARTMENT. It's ugly and small and hot. I can hardly wait not to live here.

Tomorrow is laundry, clean sheets, clean towels and a start on the actual packing of boxes.

I moved to British Columbia with two suitcases and nine boxes.

My goal is to leave with two suitcases and five boxes.

That is not a crazy idea.

This title has nothing to do with the content within

The prospect of moving cross-country in theoretical car that hasn't been purchased yet, in just six-ish weeks is daunting.

***

I don't regret moving to Vancouver, at all. I do regret staying as long as we did.

***

I've started sending emails to people I used to know. There are two people who've completely fallen off the face of the earth that I would like to say goodbye to, but it appears that they don't live in Vancouver any more either. It seems as though those couple of years are just as well left in the past.

***

I figured out that this is the first "new life" I've started that isn't because of the end or beginning of a romantic relationship.

"Now THAT'S progress!" I can hear my ex-therapist say.

***

Truth be told, I'm a little embarrassed about where we're moving, but I hope that my husband finally gets to realize his dream of a BCS sooner rather than later.

And maybe, just maybe, our luck with timing will change and we'll be in the right place and the right time.

***

Someday, maybe soon, I'll write about how Vancouver saved my life. Maybe that won't happen soon. Maybe I'll wait until I'm gone.

Rain Clearing, Breezy Overnight.

"It's not going to stop
'Til you wise up."

Shaken

I wrote last night,

"My "Urvertrauen" (basic trust) in the basic goodness of existence itself is shaken. I can't read the news any more. I really don't want to be part of the human race any more. There's nothing I can do to help and nothing is going to change.

I'm not suicidal, I just want to quit the world."

Thanks Jason.

Why do I feel this way?

This, this, this, and this. And those are only the beginning.

Sorting the bits and pieces

Unemployment is really, really, bad for me.

After realizing that every single great habit I had going hinged on my requirement to be awake, dressed, out of the house and on my best behaviour by 8 AM I am trying to resort my routine for not being required to go anywhere or do much of anything.

I have a great routine and schedule, don't get me wrong. And it works *great* in making sure I am a productive member of society. But getting the motivation to get up and do things when I don't have to... that's my stumbling point. I know this.

But there is good news!

The point where I notice it's getting bad is happening sooner. I've only been off work for three weeks. I'm aware of it and am now trying to right the ship as it were.

There is probably nothing worse than a hypocritical professional organizer.

I get anxiety just thinking about personally failing at what it is I really want to do.

***

The first step to any project is to gather together everything together and then start sorting - like with like - until there is a manageable pile of tasks or items to deal with.

I have my pile.

***

If anyone knows when and where the annual Calendar Club store is setting up before xmas in Vancouver (or  SkyTrain-able Burnaby) I could use the heads up.

Thnx.

Stuck

Everything is going to be so different in six months.

But right now NOTHING is changing and all I can really do is sketch out a plan of the things I need to do so the change happens smoothly. Hopefully.

One of my phone interviews from last week turned into a "It's not us, it's you." email. Which I guess is okay because it didn't fit the plan well.

I have a phone interview tomorrow morning. I am resigned to indifference toward anything that isn't an in-person interview with the person who is empowered to hire. And even then, I am not hopeful or eager.

I have a coffee & business chat on Thursday I want to be hopeful about, but I am unsure it is the right opportunity or it will fit the plan.

I guess I'll know that on Thursday afternoon.

I'm working on starting my own business. That feels right as well as smart. I guess I'll know if that is working out by this time next year.

Until forward motion can start happening... here I am.

Turn my sorrow into treasured gold...

I'm trying to change. Still.

The past couple of months have been a lot about just trying to find the energy to get through my day. 10 days away from work seems to have helped. 9 days being reminded of where I came from and recalling how I ended up where I am now has been emotional and at times difficult but probably what I needed.

I am hoping that the last half of this year brings more change.

The future starts now. I know that. I've probably always known that.

Oh, and in case you were wondering... it is not enough for the Canucks to win.

Boston.
Must.
DIE.

DIE!

Paranoia will Destroya

Two months ago to the day my mind and body just completely crapped out on me. I had done two straight months of being completely on top of my game and feeling great about it. Then one day, it all just broke.

My anxiety is constant and shifts from quietly lurking in the background to full out, screaming loud hyperventilation as it feels like the weight of the world has been rested on my chest. As I write this, I'm about a five on the ten point scale between those to ends. I'm terrified of everything.

Once again on my lunch hour I found myself in the self-help section of the bookstore scouring the shelves for the book, the program or the workbook that would help me fix my lousy fucking life. But it's not there. No matter how much I want it to be there, it's not.

My neurologist doesn't want me to do cardio (other than walking) or strength training every day because recovering from the nerve fatigue gets harder and harder with each successive day. So instead of figuring out a routine that would work I just quit. I just quit because I know myself.

Building a habit for me means I have to do it, practice it every single day. If I can't do something every day, I won't do it. I know myself. That's how I maintain my employment, I have daily routine that gets me out of bed and to the office and then home again. Any deviation from that can cause problems. Which is why I sit here.

I'm sitting here because I know I am being judged. I'm being judged by everyone I come into contact in a day. That is not rational, but I feel it. Every screaming loud hyperventilation trying to get out is telling me that I am a failure and completely worthless. No book or program or church or whatever is going to fix the MS to take this away.

My brain is broken. That is the most difficult thing for me to accept. I rebel against the idea on an hourly basis, but then reality smacks me in the face by making me bang into a door frame, not be able to lift my arm up, or just leave me so hopeless I wonder if there's any redemption in this world at all.

I keep making plans that keep getting blown up before they even taxi down the runway. It's gotten to the point that if the next plan gets shot down, I'm not telling anyone until they actually happen. It's just too devastating and makes me self-loathe with almost a religious fervor.

My friend Karen sent me a BBM after the MS Walk telling me that I am awesome and the over $2,100 we raised as a team was because of me. I never thanked her, because I was too embarrassed by her words. So Karen, if you are reading this... thank you. Your kindness humbles me.

So here I am with a sink full of dirty dishes left by Joe as he skipped the country, a disorganized house, a 1000 piece photomosaic jigsaw puzzle of the Canadian flag set up on the table, two cross-stitch projects started and one to just do the finishing on and all I can do is sit here and just obsess about how much my life sucks already and how what happened last night can only make matters worse.

I've been through enough therapy in my life to know that reality is what you focus on. I just don't know where you get the drive to just keep going through the motions. I don't have any goals that are important. The only dream I have is to have enough money that I can have a haircut, manicure & pedicure, waxing and threading scheduled in the same month. My only goal is to have a clean enough house and do enough writing in a month that I don't completely lose my mind. I'd like to lose 30 lbs, but that's highly unlikely given my strange food obsessions, fear of cooking and grocery stores and propensity to sit for hours and days on end.

I finally started to cry. That's where this ends.

Accountable

I was supposed to write about Chapter 1 - Preparing for Change last night, but I ended up spending over three hours completing the job application for the government.

THREE HOURS (and I didn't even finish the cognitive skills test) and it left me just exhausted. So... I'll be brief.

Chapter 1 of This Year I Will... is less than two pages long. It simply warns against just jumping in and taking drastic actions when you haven't even thought it through. You have to prepare to take action.

Be clear about my motivation:

Why do I do what I do now?

What will help and support my personal changes?

Can't linger here, at least not for very long. I know for me one of my fail points is just jumping in and not realizing what I can actually fit into my life logically.

Before action - prepare.

I"ll be back tomorrow with Chapter 2 - You've Really Got To Want This

Preparation

It's a new month.

I am fairly happy with the state of my resolutions.

I managed to meet all of my goals on 22 of 28 days in February, and got at least one thing I wanted to do on all 28 days.

Tonight begins a new set of priorities. I am trying to figure out what three things I want to create or maintain during the month of March, so I'll be reading and working through This Year I Will... over the next two months.

The biggest change is that I'll be blogging every second day. We'll see how that goes. Thankfully, there is a really public way of holding myself accountable. Either this space gets filled or I'm not living up to the contract.

It's almost bedtime. G'night folks.

"Different"

Someone from my deepest, darkest past sent me a message today that said, "Wow, are you different!"

Bear in mind that I have not had a conversation with this person since I was 19 or 20 years old, so that comment should come as a compliment. I am SO HAPPY that someone noticed I am not the person I was 16 years ago.

As a result I started thinking about my resolution for 2011, and realized that almost 9 weeks into the year my resolutions are still on track.

Yeah, I know. I was shocked too.

In late December I started reading this book. "This Year I Will..." - I read a chapter every day in the month of January and now I'm reading the remaining ones every second day. (There are 48 chapters, mostly three or four pages)

I'm nearing the end and I feel that it has given me or reminded me of the tools that I need to still be in the game 50 days later. I'm really amazed by this simple and compact group of ideas. Why I am succeeding now makes sense, but I've also learned why I failed in the past - and that's huge.

I want to make some changes to my daily and weekly habits in March, and I'm going to be going back through the book to do it. I think I am going to stick with the every second day reading and focus and it occurred to me that I could blog about it.

So, gentle reader, would you be interested in reading my thoughts about change? This is a completely serious question, and all votes will be published. If you don't want me to know it's you voting NO, make sure you respond anonymously through Blogspot.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

RESOLUTION OF THE SOLE SHAREHOLDER
OF
LVK VENTURES INC.
WHEREAS LVK VENTURES INC. is a fictional extra-provincially registered corporation headquartered in British Columbia, Canada;

AND WHEREAS the sole shareholder, LVK, acting as the only legally recognized adult that resides in her head has declared that she is “sick of this shit”;

AND WHEREAS sometimes the pain of staying the same is greater than the pain of change.

THEREFORE BE IT RESOLVED that the sole shareholder establishes the following guidelines for the year 2011:

1. The sole shareholder will make and keep all personal appointments, either health or mental health related, in a timely and proactive basis. These appointments include and not limited to:

a) Doctors, and other health care professionals;
b) Hair stylists; and
c) Estheticians.

2. Complete one hour of visual art practice each day, which will almost always be limited to the completion of counted cross-stitch works, usually including profanity.

3. Ride the stationary bike for 20 minutes each day, 7 days a week and preferably in the morning, and walk for 20 minutes each lunch hour on scheduled work day when a one hour lunch break is in place.

4. Practice mindful eating, realizing that when the mind says “mass produced take out” what it is really saying is “You’ve lost the will to live, because that ain’t food.”

5. Write a minimum two hundred-fifty (250) words a day, even if that means typing, scribbling, writing in flowing long-hand, or printing with the left hand the words “I have to write 250 words today” over and over and over again.

6. This resolution of the sole shareholder does not count toward that total. Though her lazy brain thinks that it should because it’s now well over 275 words.

7. To irritate lazy brain, the amount is not cumulative. That is, the overage in a daily word count one day does not allow that overage to be counted toward the 250 word count of the next day. So take that, bitchy lazy brain.

8. The sole shareholder is to kick at the darkness until it bleeds daylight.

9. This resolution shall be revisited daily, weekly, monthly, quarterly and annually to ensure that adjustments are made for the health and capacity of the sole shareholder to act upon them.

Signed, Sealed and Delivered
on this 1st day of January,
2011 in the presence of: (original signed)
LVK
The people on the internet
reading this. Love you all.