What gets you by? For me it is cupcakes. Friends. Blogging. Red wine. Oh yeah - and my anti-depressants! But normally I need to bend the ear of a good mate to vent my wrath, to be able to let off steam and feel human. I'm lucky - I have quite a few good female mates who I bend the ears til they almost fall off - but sometimes, it is hard to admit things even to them. We are all so busy trying to prove to everyone that we are fine, life is just swell and gee don't you all wanna be like me - that it is difficult to open up and say - you know what, my life sucks! Christ if we all were swinging from the chandeliers in the bedroom, cooking up a storm in the kitchen, tidying our houses to Bree style standards, raising perfect rugrats and still holding down great jobs and being a perfect size 6 - feck, we'd be stepford women. Dull as feck. Yet, we try. We are overwhelmed with guilt for craving 5 mins to ourselves to read a newspaper, or for putting the sprog in front of Monsters Inc for the 50th time, just so we can shower in peace. We starve ourselves and stuff ourselves and endlessly diet and berate and massage dimples in order to look better, younger, more glowing... I mean can you honestly tell me you like the taste of green tea? Yeeach.
We fill our houses and wardrobes with status symbols - I've made it! We brush our hair, shave our pits, paint our toenails and hell, even floss. I have no idea on earth why I ever had a brazilian wax - I mean, I like myself - and this is surely a form of self-abuse? Anyway - point of this post is to say - that we all try to get by - to show others that we are successful, happy, content - and inwardly we are often curling into self-loathing balls, willing the ground to swallow us up. If not -then hurrah for you! But me, well my rocky job road is just about sending me to hell and back. I can just not get a break - and on this fair St Pats day - for I am Oirish, I should be drinking a whisky (yuk) and singing old songs and being filled with joy - but instead, I am reaching for the cup cakes.... and despairing of ever getting a script editing job - ever! i thought there was an opening coming up this week but it appears not. I had my frail hopes so damn high and now... well, pass the cakes. Now if you ever feel you can't get by - give Samaritans a bell. They really are the business. I know, I volunteer for them. They don't advise or judge or give an opinion. They listen, they befriend, they support. A problem shared is definitely halved. So if you feel you can't tell others that life aint too good, for fear they would judge you, or try and advise - when all you want is someone to unload to - then don't be afraid to pick up the phone. Samaritans care and they always want to know how you are.
I'm off to bend the ear of a friend I call 'Pocket' - for she is so damn chirpy that we should have a pocket version of her in our bags/pockets to pull out when we need cheering up/help in the old optimism department. She makes my glass seem more half full. And I'm grateful for her. So on St Pats day I give thanks for all my female friends. And anyone who is reading this too.
x
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