“Check yo’self before you wreck yo’self” is something you would normally say to your bestie as she chucks back her fourth Jager-bomb. It’s also a good thing to say to yourself when you’re staring down the blackhole you know to be depression, hanging on to the edge with the last of the strength you can muster.
While I’m unstable as all hell, I’m also self aware, and know well enough the signs that I’m not doing too good. Lately I have been s-t-ruggling with life, and on Saturday I had a full #nomakeup #nofilter meltdown over Snapchat to Hey Little Sweets.
I went back through the blog archives and was surprised to find the last time I felt this shit was almost 15 months ago – so that’s positive. Maybe it’s because I don’t like Christmas. There, I said it! I don’t hate Christmas, but I’m just not a Jingle Bell Rock kinda gal.
Perhaps it’s remnant from my retail days, 14 hours on minimum wage dealing with customers who have left their shopping ’til the last second. It could be because I’m an accountant and Christmas is month end, if you’re really lucky it’s also year end, which is month end to the power of 12.
Maybe it’s because for years, our Christmases have been someone’s last, or the first without someone else. Having more deaths in a family than births tends to take the sheen off the Christmas baubles.
Whatever it is, I just don’t love it like everyone else seems to. The actual day is great however. For some it’s about a baby in a manger and a few wise men, for our family it’s about strawberries and sparkling grape juice and selfies with Clydesdales.
Aaaaanyway, whether it’s all the ho ho ho-ing and mistletoe-ing or something else, I just feel flat. Low in energy, out of mojo, nothing left in the tank, and this is when the anxiety starts to sneak in.
I’ve got my first ever social event with Dixie this weekend, and I’m wishing I started pre-loading three days ago. Give me a room full of strangers interrogating me on a professional level, over putting my personal best foot forward any day.
The closer we get to the event the worst I feel. The FB invite states cocktail attire, but does that mean casual cocktail or cocktail cocktail. Can I wear my pleather pencil skirt? Will a bralette be too much? Should I go full stiletto or would a block heel be safer?
I make mental notes not to talk about myself too much. I remember running into a guy from school at the Mermaid Tav and asking him questions about what he’d done in the years since I’d seen him last…
It’s safe to say that “several cycles of steroids” would have been an obvious answer but instead he replied that I was fucking intense and that I had always been a fucking nosy bitch. That one exchange has made me paranoid about asking too many questions when making conversation with a relative stranger.
I tend to stick to innocuous chat about my pet sheep Rog and my life long love affair with salt and vinegar chips. Then I walk away (genuinely) worried that I’ve talked about myself the whole time and come across as a self centred bitch in a pencil skirt and stilettoes.
I was supposed to be starting a new project in Auckland the week just been, but that was waaaaaay too much adulting for me, and instead I booked a sleep over with one of my besties. You might think that sleepovers are for teenagers, but the best thing about being an adult is that you can have a sleepover on a school night.
It was on her couch, eating sweet chilli Doritos (another perk of being an adult), that I scrolled through Instagram and saw that Stacy Sadler was offering one card tarot readings. It’s no secret that I’m hocus pocus as they come, and so tarot is right up my alley.
To steal Stacy’s word, it was synchronicity, and the card that came up was Five of Cups. Some of you will be horrified to hear that this card shows three cups of spilt wine – what is this witchcraft?!?! But Stacy’s words came at exactly the right time:
“The five of cups can indicate feeling alone, isolated or not in a completely fulfilling career right now…It’s easy to get pessimistic about the future when our track records has led us astray but the key is to let go of whatever has been and know that at any time, our luck can change! Just because something hasn’t worked before it doesn’t mean it won’t in the future, so if you’re passionate about something and you feel like it’s for you – stick with it!”
Stacy also echoed something that one of my fave humans has said in a reading with a medium in the past “you need to back yourself”.
Lately I’ve been feeling a lot like I’m letting my team down, and so I did some things I know I can do – I needed to feel a sense of accomplishment. I went to the hardware store and stocked up on soil. Because nothing says “I’m a boss bitch” like flipping 40l bags of potting mix into the boot while four Bunnings staff watch on.
I replanted my succulents, and I lured a wild cat to within metres of the house with some good old fashioned Chef in a Tip Top container – two kiwi icons collaborating.
I made Dixie and his dad their fave dinner. Let me assure you that it’s impossible to make a shit meal with Pepper & Me pastes. So there I was, a triumphant green fingered, feline loving, master fucking chef with good hair (thanks to afore mentioned bestie).
“Always live every day with the saying in your head ‘always believe something great is about to happen’”, was Stacy’s advice, and some days the simple stuff is amazing. Now, where did I put the Christmas lights…