Not yet out of the woods

Ugh, I curse myself.

Yes I've a way to go yet.  I'm in all sorts of pain and I'm also very exhausted.

Having a day with a thumping heart and feeling very tearful I began to think of quitting this course.  Yes, that's it, you heard me right.  I was thinking of giving up my dream, but despite the fact that I had promised myself i would not suffer anymore like i did in the last degree, I was feeling so empty and lost and incapable.

I slept for a couple of hours then bravely reached out to a new friend from the class.  She was very kind and really helped with some practical tips.
My inbox 'dinged' with a message from one of the tutors. A group message.  But something naturally overtook my body and I emailed her asking for help to decide which genre to specialise in.  She replied to me with gusto. There were several upbeat sentences with exclamation marks at the end of them and her tone was more than refreshing. She sounded incredible.  Instantly I was uplifted.  In the past, if you even got a reply from an academic you were lucky.  Let alone a positive one!

Beginning to change my thinking slightly, I realised I might be able to do this.

Lighting some candles, i began to look at the course work.  True, I don't know much.  But I could give this a go.

In a week, if I'm still feeling negative, I shall contact the uni and let them know where my mind is at right now and see if I can get some support and understanding.  If not, then I will have no choice but to stop early.

That said, I am worried about my physical health. My blood sugars are high. My pain through my body is bad. My fatigue is awful and mental health is haywire.  Yet today, :i have researched what I can do to help some of these and I'm really motivated to try. I must x

Mental health issues ignited as I begin my First day as an MA student.

Unable to believe I haven't updated this blog, 
it has been 3 days since I met the new class. 
Starting on a positive note, everyone seems just lovely. 
We totally are a mixed bunch of people from the 
usual colourful clothing you would expect to see 
in the art department, to a couple of muscle 
bound young guys who would be expected to be 
seen over on my last course or something similar to 
the strength and fitness MSc that some of my last 
science cohort have signed up to. Then of course 
there are the typical writer types. Slightly shy, maybe 
having some internal struggles, yet rather unlike me
 I suspect. Not being too tough on myself but no-one 
can possibly be as crazy as me with their thinking .
 I'm just Mrs Over thinker. And I 'do my own head in'. 

Perhaps because I have been feeling very much in pain of 
late, perhaps I simply am unsure if I am good enough for 
all of this. I thought I was over all this. I thought the anxiety
 had gone away. On the way to class I was so ready to 
start the class. Then a few things happened, I had to walk
 quite a long way across the beautiful walled city; I'm not 
so good at walking. I'm not sure what the triggers were 
really as everyone was so lovely and this is always my 
first request. Just like when I joined choir. Everyone was 
so sweet and lovely and I was determined to give that
 a good crack of the whip. That was all swimming along 
beautifully until yesterday. In fact, it had seemed to be 
the answer I was looking for. It was seeming to distort 
my mental health head and sorting my issues out through 
music. Yesterday, it seems I was singing soprano rather 
than alto. I do that a lot. Perhaps I should be a sop, 
i don't know. But the lady next to me began singing her 
notes very loudly to help me get back on track. 

She was singing into my 70% deaf ear. The lady the
 other side was new and had been introduced to me
 as a Trinity music school student who was learning 
Harp. Wow. She was also singing the same notes 
as me and I was sure she would know the correct pitch. 
Anyhow, the neighbour announced she was moving 
to the back of the room. Was I so bad?

This had me gutted and upset to say the very least. 
 This was a pretty massive step considering the 
severity of the crime.

Aiming to bite the tears back, I used the techniques 
I know which have been somewhat effective in the past. 
Breathing, distraction, looking up into the corner of the 
room...nope. None were working. The black cloud came
 rolling in overhead and it was roaring on this day. 
My eyes began to sting. I blinked over and over and yup, 
I could feel they were filling up. I left the room with all 
my things in my arms. Something inside me was 
screaming, "Leave! Leave!" which seemed ridiculous to
 the actual girl who I actually am. Of course I wouldn't 
leave. This was choir and I loved it. Yes I got it wrong 
but I also remember my first concert which was heavily 
loaded with Mozart who I have come to love with a 
passion. The concert goes down in history as a rocking 
chair moment for more reasons than I can list here. 

Of course I wasn't going to leave.

Yet my mind was becoming dangerous. I could sense it. 
SO i reached out and text my friend which only brought 
my emotions to the forefront. I cried. i left. Driving home 
I was a mess of emotions. Crying like crazy and feeling 
very dark.

Why oh why? Suddenly out of nowhere? Or was it? Saturday 
I had walked more than i likely should walk, and at speed 
too. I was exhausted and frustrated. The work didn't seem 
to make sense to me and the genius lecturers mentioned, 

"Of course you won't write in cliche, none of you would 
do that and fail...hahahaha." 

What? What did that mean? Writing in cliche? Have I 
bitten off more than I can chew? Is this something which
 just simply fuells my anxieties? Honesty I cannot believe 
the person I have become. I seem unable to deal with 
anything. Any level of nastiness, anything negative on 
the TV, just any level of work. So what do I do with my 
life from here?

Right now, the only thing I can think is to make a way 
forward to do little or nothing but putting my health as 
number one day by day.

Feeling little and lost

Today I work at university as a student ambassador. Watching the new students making friends, getting lost, looking at maps and wondering what they might have set themselves up for.

Hoping to be helpful, I smile. And help them.

During lunch I read about writing. My course starts in a couple of days and I am/was so excited. This feels so right. I'm excited. I said that already. Yet I am also seeing how I have so much to learn.

Imposter syndrome is lurking a little - yet I want to do this so the only way is to DO THIS. I'm nervous. Worried I don't know enough. I need to learn! And FAST.

Something crazy is going on with me. I am considering the PHD. Yup. I said it out loud.

Potentially, I think I may have found a supervisor. She seems awesome and signs off posts with things like, "With love" etc. She shares her teachings on Patreon so I have signed up to be a supporter of her and hope that I can go ahead and learn from her and possibly have her as a supervisor on my phd...

Much as I love and adore my science academics, I just literally sweated profusely. All these potential new students, and I asked if I could just address them about the student ambassador scheme. JIKES. Being the first person to speak to them in class was a massive responsibility. The academics said yes but let everyone arrive first.

So here I was in a room full of 200 new students, plus 15 academics in science and I was saying, "Good morning and welcome, come be an ambassador and earn some money..." among other things.

Yes, I love public speaking but this was so off the cuff. It showed. My confidence is beginning to wobble ever so slightly.

Feeling so at peace - and people wonder what's going on!

Yes, ok so the title of this post gives you a good idea where I'm going here.

Have you followed this journey from the start?
When I began my university career as a scientist?

If you answered yes then you might understand why people are checking on me. It's so sweet of them I know.  But they are actually really questioning my words.  Yet all I feel right now is content.  And peaceful.

Finally stepping into who I am and what I'm doing is exactly what has helped me with my mental health and likely my physical health although that is a work in progress but we are getting there!

The problem i have is people are messaging me telling me
"You're really quiet, what's up?"
"I know something is wrong and you have to let what I said go.  I didn't mean it."
And the list goes on with several friends.  I'm not upset as its just through care and love.  But when I say I'm honestly ok, I mean I'm honestly ok.

I'm the writer I was always meant to be.

This makes such a difference in my life and how I'm feeling. I'm happy.  I'm content.  I'm not even sure I  have words for how I'm feeling but it's a definite positive 'thing'.

Last night I watched something from Mindvalley.  It was a hypnotherapy.  Incredible.  Taking you back to the exact time when you felt like you were not enough.  Not good enough.  All these kinds of thinking will lead you to illness, underperforming, self loathing, weight gain and all that type of thing...shockingly, my 'block' came from the time I was smacked by the headmaster in Junior school. For NO REASON!
Everyone Always ran to the line up queue and I was just one of them. For whatever reason, he smacked me really hard on my thigh.  It caused a hand print.  I thought he was a good headmaster but this really hurt.  I remember trying hard not to cry and quietly telling my friend what had happened.  Jeez I even can picture the skirt I was wearing (I wore it a lot) and remembering how I lifted it up to show her the redness.  It was a kid of rough tweed, sort of pleated. Not comfortable really but this was the early 1980s and we wore weird stuff.

To say I'm shocked at the detail that came through in this meditation is an understatement.  Has this been something that was holding me back all these years?  He made me the victim. Of all the people he could have chosen, he chose me.  He made me the victim.  Then follows a long story of being bullied in senior school, not getting love and affection from my parents, much less ever expecting hugs and kisses, and feeling cared for when there was joint pain.  Which of course I now know to be part of my autoimmune illness.  So would this feeling manifest into illness and depression?  Possibly. Yet now, I have an overwhelming sense of leaving it all behind.

I'm not the victim.  I am ENOUGH.

I have qualities and skills to offer and the most strange feeling of stepping into my reality and worrying less what people might say if I go ahead and create the life I want.

Which is me. Being a writer.

I am so in love with my life right now and I am so happy.  Truly.

IT's September.

September: You’re here!

This is the month I promise myself to ALWAYS step into my reality and show up for myself and my family every day.  

Morning pages will be a part of my ritual.  Writing at least 750words every day.  Giving my muse it’s daily freedom to just flow.

Excited for my writing degree in three short weeks.

Pens a-ready.  Let’s finally do this life I’m designed for.

This is the month I start my new course

Im excited.

I feel like this is the me I am supposed to be!