I Love My Car ...

Love My Car and Meat You in Korea.

Love My Car:

I love my car, but it’s not what you think. I don’t love it because it’s fast, beautiful or alludes to any kind of desirable status (because it isn’t and it doesn’t).

I love it because it’s another room, and it’s a room that can move. It’s taken awhile for me to truly appreciate how comforting and comfortable this relationship to an inanimate and useful object has become.  My current car was also my Nanna’s, and this of course adds an extra level of affection to my modest Nissan. What I really like is how my car feels like a safe, warm, intimate capsule. Lately, when I have a break, instead of going into a café I often opt to stay in the car. I put back the seat and listen to the radio. Or go to sleep. Or hypnotise myself. The possibilities are endless. I’ve never performed a self love session in my car, but sex and cars are a story with a different angle (ha!).

Yes, my car is a little haven. When I’m driving,  I listen to the radio and lean down to flick through stations until I find a song or topic that interests me. I also love to eat and drive. Icecream or chips are best (hot or cold). I still use CD’s because the updated technology (ipods for the car etc) stresses me out. I just want to stick it in and have it work. I have an ipod and haven’t used it for more than a year because trying to get the fucking thing to cooperate feels like a form of torture.

Boring explanation re. ipod:

 Torture: post-computer crash, when ALL your music lovingly compiled, is gone daddy gone, and the music left on your ipod won’t play because it can’t sync to anything not already burned into the drive of your nice new computer. This has now happened twice. The lesson: don’t give your CD’s away like I did, if your computer dies, so does the music.

Fin.

When I’m driving, I regularly  turn the cd or radio off and talk out loud to my ‘angels’ or subconscious mind. I get very good answers too. They’re good because they’re practical.

So I get a lot of ‘spiritual time’ in the car, singing time, thinking time, and it seems to flow because I’m moving. I like driving. I’m a careful driver. I keep to the speed limit and I sometimes go extra slow if someone is driving too close behind me.  Even I, a fabulously kind person, must find a way to get back at egoic drivers, and muttering  “mutha fuck you” just doesn’t feel enough at times. Most of the time it feels good. Saying “mutha fuck you, hope you die today” seems to alleviate a lot of annoyance quite quickly. I hear myself saying it, then I’m amused, and this leads to a lightening of my mood. I’m amused because I’ve only started saying this in recent months, and I say it sort of half heartedly. There isn’t enough rage in it for it to be taken seriously. If intent could kill, then I’d have far less victims than you’d think.

Yes, I love my car, and I love it because it’s a bit like bed. I can do almost everything in it that matters. Food, music, sleep, reading,  singing, sex, praying, laughing, talking. 

Rose (completed friendship, see end of last year) used to drive a 1970 box style valiant in the 90’s. It was the first time I truly understood that a particular style or brand of car could influence a person’s idea of themselves so strongly. She liked it when we drove past someone else in a Valiant.  Valiant soul mates. It was like riding around in a living room.

 Rose also liked Vespas and would have been keen on getting one if she wasn't pouring every spare dollar into the ever-thirsty and unreliable

glory of the large and cumbersome car.  I grew to appreciate riding around in it (being the non-driver that I was). You could easily seat three people in the front.

I didn’t get my driver’s licence till I was 33. That’s rather rare in NZ. Most people have barely broken through puberty before they’re behind the wheel of a car. My mum doesn’t drive, never has, never will. Has no interest in it. She was also raising me alone on a low wage, and I had no other relatives willing or able teach me. Various friends tried, but of course no one was able to commit to giving me lessons on a regular basis.  I couldn’t afford driving lessons, and in the end I just didn’t care enough to keep trying.

At 21 I got my ‘written and oral’, and this languished as I cycled, walked, bussed and begged lifts for koha.  People were aghast when they discovered that a person over 15 could be without a licence. Eyes would widen. Mouths dropped. “How …?” they would enquire.

The thing is, in the olden days, (up to the mid 1990’s) there was this amazing thing called relatively affordable flatting near the central business district. This meant you just needed a bicycle and a few friends who actually had cars, and you were sorted. I was always going away with friends and sleeping in tents somewhere.  I was thoughtful with petrol money and lavish with thanks.

It was living in Paeroa that forced my hand. You try living in that town with out a car and you’ll suddenly find a way to save up for one. It took absolutely ages to save up as I was on a pathetic wage, but my first car was cheap and the lack of power steering helped me develop a level of tone and strength in my arms I could be proud of. I think it was a 1987 Honda City E. It had a tape deck and an AM radio. It’s taken years to develop the level of joy that I find in driving a car, but it’s a feeling of being centred, focused, yet somehow relaxed in the midst of it.

This does not segue well into my next topic of thought.

Food, Meat, Dogs, Korea:

I’ve just signed an online petition against the torture and consumption of dogs in South Korea. Now I might sound like a hypocrite, being a meat eater, but bear with me.

Animals are very ‘other’ in mainstream culture there, and even ‘beloved’ pets are not treated well, tied up on a very short leash on a concrete street outside a shop all day is not uncommon.  Vegetarians struggle with the diet there as everything seems to be imbedded with some sort of tiny dried fish or strips of fatty grey meat. I got really sick for the first three months of living there -  the diet was so hard on my digestion. I went to the hospital and they said I had Colitis and had to eat soft, easily digestible foods. For awhile all I could consume were smoothies with yoghurt and bannna, no coffee, no meat.  At school I would stare at the mountain of white rice and side dishes of spicey, meaty, fishy mulch and sigh inwardly. To insult Koreans by refusing their food is just not done. Yet what to do? I lied and said I LOVED it but it was very hard on my stomach, so please, don’t be hurt if I can’t eat it all.

I fell in love with a stray kitten and used to save the grey bits of meat from my school lunch, wash off all the spices, and take it to the kitten each day. When the principal found out what I was doing, she forbade me to feed the kitten ‘the children’s food’. She seemed to think that it was better for me to throw it in the bin than give it to an animal in need. It insulted her Catholic God or something.

“That children food. Not dirty animal.”

I played the game though. Nodded, agreed, and then still did it anyway. You get good at that in Korea. Nod. Agree. Smile. As the kitten grew into a strong young cat, he became strong enough to find my offerings less appealing. He was a gorgeous little thing, pale and large of eyes. Even he wouldn't eat the tiny octopuses that haunted my lunches with the consistency of hard rubber and sorrow.

Most days I would put my leftovers in plastic bag and told the Principal 

‘Take home. Fry. No waste. Very grateful.’

I truthfully did take home rice and refry it a few times, and the rest of the time, threw it in the bin or left it on the street for rats or cats. I couldn’t take the food pressure there anymore, it was literally making me sick.

I didn’t want to be rude, accepting the food is a huge part of the Korean culture, but when you get Colitis, you just have to find a way to bow out from eating endless mountains of rice, meat and spice.

Prior to living in South Korea I read about what happens to the dogs that are reared specifically for the purpose of eating. The dogs are tortured whilst still alive as this is believed to ‘tenderize’ the meat. Dog isn’t common, it’s actually quite expensive. You wouldn’t accidentally end up eating dog, you need to go somewhere that specialises in it.  I guess you have to pay extra for all those beatings.

Occasionally I spoke to a fellow foreigner who would announce (quite proudly) that they’d eaten dog. I’d listen as they said things like “well we are in Korea, it’s the culture. If you eat meat then why shouldn’t you try it? It’s like eating cow or chicken, we’re just not culturally adjusted to it, so many foreigners are hypocrites.”

I’d nod. I’d ask if they enjoyed it. Then I’d say “so the conditions the dogs are reared in don’t bother you?”

They’d smile blankly, not knowing what I was talking about.  Then I’d kindly, softly, tell them how the dog had been ‘tenderized’ whilst still alive.  How delicious was that dog? Every person who’d tried it looked sick. “Oh. I didn’t know that” they’d say quietly. I never did try to stick it in hard. I just would inform and then let them decide if that was the kind of meat they wanted to consume.

So if you’re reading this, and you want to do something about it, please sign …. https://www.change.org/petitions/boycott-2013-world-energy-congress-in-daegu-south-korea-no-more-torture-no-more-dog-meat?share_id=kqtRsqAGcU&utm_campaign=share_button_action_box&utm_medium=facebook&utm_source=share_petition&utm_term=29484675

I will not put up horrible pictures, not my style. I said to mum that it really is enough to make me give vegetarianism another crack. I realise it makes sense economically and politically, but really, for me, it comes down to the innocence and beauty of animals. How do I balance that against the enjoyment of roast lamb or a good bacon sarnie?

 Well, if I do go all Vege on you, fear not, I’ll never be one of those scary ones that sneers and tries to make you feel guilty. I don’t find guilt to be very motivating.

Well, that’s my rant for now. Other things that I keep thinking about are Taxidermy , shared gardens, our crazy government voting against protecting the Maui Dolphin, painting everything green, gold and white, eating more pineapple and the nature of forgiveness and compassion.

New Zealand – what should we do about the current situation developing? I’m happy for wealthy people to enjoy what they have, but it does seem as if it’s at the expense of the majority. What mystifies me is why so many good, ‘onto it’ Kiwi people voted for the National government. 

We have had such ground breaking and forward thinking milestones in our short history – the first country to give women the vote, the attempt to create a dialogue and solutions alongside Maori, the way we stood up against Nuclear Ships coming through our waters in the 1980’s.

Now look. We have a government that would whore us out to foreign interests for returns that are surely short sighted, sell off our assets, frack our beautiful country side (proven to create earthquakes and shunned by other countries!) and create a wave of resentment towards beneficiaries in order to try and keep ‘hard working middle NZ’ on side. What I hope people start to see is that most of us would be in the shit if something ‘went wrong’ and we got sick, were made redundant, or, like me, simply could not find a full time job somehow relating to my skill set.

So what are we going to do? Just bitch about it?

That’s what I have always hated about politics. Seems like a lot of talking and you wonder how on earth that translates to every day life. We have to find ways to make that so.

We’re gonna have to pull together. Share a garden with someone if you have a back yard. Tell them to pitch in, then they can pop around once a week and grab what they need. Do contra deals, and be inventive. If you’re doing okay financially, consider something small you could do to help someone out that makes all the difference. 

The women I’m teaching English to have left their abusive husbands empty handed. Can you provide a few books (things like dictionaries, aromatherapy, poetry and travel are good) or spare some nice clothing? SHAKTI would definitely appreciate it.

Wealth. What does it really mean to you? 

I guess it’s one thing to the National Government; money. Yes, money is useful, but it’s only printed pieces of paper symbolising a means of exchange. Who said that the map is not the territory? Alfred Korzybski.

Think about it Prime Minister, and in the meantime, let's all think about solutions. 

x

Suck it Up Buttercup!

Okay folks, as promised, an update on the Ritalin/Doctor with-holding prescription situation.

If you are prescribed Ritalin in NZ, there's only one GP who can do it, otherwise you have to pay to see a shrink and the cost is prohibitive. It's unfortunate that I didn't understand how the whole system worked, that it's only by trial and sudden withdrawal that I now know: yes, your doctor (or more specifically the Receptionist) can stop your meds if you don't pay a certain amount of your bill within a certain time frame.

Ritalin, being a restricted drug, isn't like other prescriptions where you can get it on repeat. You might not share the same 'world' as the receptionist, but you'd better make sure you do your best or you'll be going without if you don't pay in time or do something to offend her. In the end I agreed with her; I do need to wake up to the real world, just as she's said. The real world. What an interesting idea. What would that be?

 I don't even know if the world is as real as we pretend it is, but I knew discussing that particular philosophy wouldn't be useful in this situation. She thanked me for understanding (and strangely, I do, though I know she doesn't understand me) and hopefully this whole debacle will be behind me soon enough.

So there you have it. Until we get more doctors specialising in knowledge of ADHD, we must rely on only one GP. No wonder the receptionist has no patience left, she's obviously over worked and stressed. My mum used to be a doctor's receptionist and she was under-paid and definitely over worked, so I'm not being entirely facetious about this whole thing. It's definitely food for thought though; what is the Real World to you?

Mine has lots of rainbows, forests, cats, wine, friends and cuddles in it! Ooh, and maybe a giant owl that puts it's wing around me.
Lovely!
xxxx

Doc With-holding Medication ... know your rights?

19th Septmember 2012 (With comments edited in at a later date)

Last Wednesday I started to run low on my Ritalin. I didn't mind because I knew my prescription was arriving in the post any day.

By Friday I was agitated. I usually take two tablets a day, and now I only had a two left and was biting them in half, making do with quarter of my usual medication. I got a little letter in the mail, saw it was from Dr Hanne's office, didn't open it, took it straight to the chemist with a sense of relief. Relief vanished quickly once I opened it.

The bill was for $103. Weird, my doc apt cost $35 with a community services card, so I couldn't fathom where this additional charge came from. I was devastated. Being Friday, it meant I'd have to go without medication for at least another two or three days, and I felt bananas as it was. To suddenly withdraw from any medication isn't a good idea, and for a doctor's office to do so without any prior warning seemed incredibly unethical. It actually felt like I was being punished!

Of course, I rang and left a message telling them so. I ranted. I raved. I cried. Later I left another message specifically for the nurse explaining that I was feeling terrible and sorry for leaving such a full on message, but it was a shock to suddenly have medication ceased without warning. I did not swear, and everything I said I'd still stand by, but it seems that the receptionist took it personally and I don't think she's passed the messages on.

On Monday I rang. Then I emailed, apologised that my phone calls were so emotional, said I could pay off some of my bill, but please, please send my prescription. On Tuesday I emailed again. No response at all.

 Receptionist:

Today (Wednesday) I finally got a call from the receptionist and boy was it a doozy. She was one angry and embittered woman. She started her cold and clipped tirade with a level of contempt and condescension that must have taken many years to perfect. I was trying to get ready to go to my teaching and didn't want to be late, but my stomach was churning even before I picked up the phone. She told me in a tone you'd reserve for criminal imbeciles that 

"you don't know how the real world works, so let me give you a lesson Can-dis!"

I sort of laughed and said I didn't feel she needed to speak to me that way. It seemed incredible that she wasn't calling to apologise for my unnecessary distress and kindly explain what had happened.

"Hey," I said, " I'm sorry my phone messages were so full on, but it's real shock to the system to suddenly have my medication stopped without any warning. You do understand ADHD don't you?"
Her tone was scathing ...

"Yes. I do. Your email was also very over the top. Very colourful. You need to LISTEN Can-dis. You need to listen. Are you going to listen Can-dis?"

"It's Can-deese, and yes, I'm listening ... " but I was thinking that this woman has no understanding or compassion at all. She seemed to be offended by my email, one not addressed to her. It was for Dr Hanne and the nurse to view, and there was nothing offensive about it. She repeated a number of times that I didn't know how the REAL WORLD worked, and in the meantime I felt a bout of diarrhea coming on. It was gettin' real. 

I tried to interrupt to say I had to go (quite literally) but she wouldn't let me finish sentences. What she was dying to tell me was that they have 1000 patients at that doctor's surgery, that it costs MONEY to PAY the people who are EMPLOYED at that surgery. I think she was angry that I'm on a benefit. It seemed she thought I needed to know about people WORKING and being EMPLOYED. I only think that because she stressed these words so much. She had absolutely no concern for my state of mind. In a voice dripping with hate she informed me that it did cost $17 to send out my script each time I got my medication.

 Oh. I didn't know that.

"How could you NOT know that? It's on the bill every time you get your prescription!"

Er, because it's never happened to me before? In my experience, I've never ever paid $17 a month in addition to the cost of the actual medication. I've been going to The People's Centre for more than 10 years and they only charge $16.50 for an actual doctor's appointment. Even when I was on anti-depressants about 8 years ago, I only ever paid for the cost of them and of the appointment every 3 to 6 months. I didn't get to explain any of this because whenever I tried to speak she would cut in with ...

"are you going to listen? You need to LISTEN Can-dis."

I thought $17 was the amount you paid for the prescription if you didn't have a community services card, and didn't think it was anything to do with me. Instead of agreeing that it had been a misunderstanding, she seemed further enraged.

She couldn't let it go. She wanted to go on and on about how I had to learn, that if I wanted to still go to those offices then I better start listening and learning. Problem was, I really had to attend to the rather urgent matter of my bowels, and I wanted to get to my teaching job in time. I tried to explain that I did have to go, but I felt black mailed. If I could LISTEN and LEARN from her (shut  up and let yourself be bullied) then she MIGHT send out my prescription ... but ... my tummy ...

"Look, it sounds like it's really busy there for you, but I do have to go or I'll be late .."

And she interrupted AGAIN!

"Can-dis," she made my name sound vile, "Are you going to listen? Are you going to listen?!"

"Well I would, but I don't like the way you're speaking to me and I'm going to be .."

"Well if you're not going to listen you'd better think about whether you want to come to this practice! You need to learn about the REAL WORLD."

"Oh my god" I groaned, feeling so horrible as I sat down on the loo, phone in one hand.
Trying to listen to someone being so condescending was hard work.

"That's it" she said, and hung up.

Shaking, I attended to the urgent matter at hand. I realised I couldn't teach this morning, I was absolutely exhausted and felt like I'd been dealing with one of those nasty sort of teachers from high school. Mrs White or Mr Lisette from Takapuna Grammar in the 80's. They were those stoney eyed sorts, autocratic and compassion free. Probably had posters of Thatcher and wished they could continue to administer corporal punishment.

(Post Note: In the following blog entry you'll see that we did eventually come to an understanding. What I had failed to recognise was that she had felt bullied by my original message (left on the answerphone) and sincerely did feel the need to 'teach me' how to behave in a more appropriate manner. She also believes that suddenly coming off Ritalin would have absolutely no side effects "because it's not like an antidepressant". The leaflet inside warns that suddenly ceasing it can result in depression, and if you do even rudimentary research it's clear that coming off it suddenly is not advised. She told me that my reaction was just anxiety, not a result of ceasing meds. I do agree that my handling of the situation was not ideal. Probably because I was having a panic attack, and one that I think was pronounced by having my medication suddenly withdrawn!

I found a forgotten tablet in a handbag yesterday, and I'm hoping I'll find more. This is not a good place to be in. Going off so suddenly is like being hit by a truck of exhaustion and high emotion. when I started taking Ritalin they upped my dose slowly, and then here I am coming off 40mg a day without any kind of graduation in the process. 

Why on earth would they not send out advance warning? Surely it's not that hard. Something like "In case you did not realise, you do owe (whatever the amount it) for the cost of posting prescriptions which is $17 each time. This has now been unpaid for (whatever period of time) and we need to to pay a minimum of (amount) before we can send your next prescription. Please call or email to let us know how much you will be paying as soon as possible."

I'm not even a doctor or a receptionist, yet if I were working with ADHD people, I would send out a warning before cutting them off! It seems so logical.

So what to do?

I've made an appointment with The People's Centre and am hoping to the great gods that they will be able to get my prescription from now on. I may have to wait awhile before the People's Centre can get the Ritalin, if they can at all. From what I understand a doctor has to apply for special permission to prescribe it. It is strictly controlled to prevent abuse.

Post Note: I need to find out about other 'brands' of 'Ritalin', a friend advised that Ritalin is just the brand name and it's possible I can get my prescription filled somewhere else. In the meantime, I do feel like I've learned more about diplomacy from this experience.

 The Health and Disability Commissioner (phone 373 1060)

• 1) Are doctors allowed to cease medications because you are behind in your bill?

• 2)Is the receptionist allowed to speak to me like I'm shit?

• 3)Shouldn't I have been given advance warning that the bill was overdue?

• 4)Can I get my medication elsewhere, and when?

POST NOTE: If I want to fight a battle because the receptionist did not communicate effectively and with held my prescription with out warning, then I can go for it. Fact is, I'm too tired to do that. I just want my prescription.

Take a look at what the website says regarding The Code of Rights in Clause 2:

The Code (summary)

Clause 1

This establishes the duties and obligations of providers to comply with the Code, to ensure they promote awareness of it to consumers and enable consumers to exercise their rights.

Clause 2

This details the ten rights of consumers and the duties of providers.

Right 1: the right to be treated with respect

Right 2: the right to freedom from discrimination, coercion, harassment, and exploitation

Right 3: the right to dignity and independence

Right 4: the right to services of an appropriate standard

Right 5: the right to effective communication

Right 6: the right to be fully informed

Right 7: the right to make an informed choice and give informed consent

Right 8: the right to support

Right 9: rights in respect of teaching or research

Right 10: the right to complain

The Code of Rights makes it clear that the receptionist has really crossed the line. She spoke to me with blatant contempt and could not explain why I had not been given warning that my medication was being cut off. I was not fully informed, the services were of poor standard as she did not return my communication until Wednesday. She could have easily replied to my email with one sentence. Something like "The extra cost was due to (blah blah) and we're sorry you are feeling so awful. We thought you knew how our system worked, so we apologise for the distress caused. We will of course send out your prescription as soon as possible, please do let us know how much you can pay this week."

See, that wouldn't be hard would it? 

Well I look forward to updating you on this. I think it's going to be more important than ever before to stand up for ourselves in a climate that's encouraging anger towards beneficiaries. It seriously is not the cushy ride many employed people seem to think it is. It's a safety net for people who are struggling, and if doctors start to put the boot in, I dread to think what could happen to people who are seriously ill. Are we going to become like The States? I hope not. I really hope not.

On the up side:
The trees are looking good outside, the birds are singing and I am loved. Life is good. :)

post note: the trees are looking so good that I cannot put up a fight. See next blog entry ....

In the end, it is better to assume that someone might have their own reasons for behaving in a way that causes stress to others. The receptionist was genuinely trying to communicate that the doctor's offices are busy, there just isn't time to deal with people having emotional blow outs. So I understand her point, and I imagine she is a doctor's receptionist because she cares about people, but it's easy to get overworked and feel unappreciated in that setting. Her world and mine may not have a lot in common, but at least we ended up finding a way to be civil.

September Celibate.

some random person and dog on a North Shore beach

Yes it's September again. This is the time of year when I think of friends of long ago who have committed suicide. This is the time of year I try to go swimming in the sea and pretend it's summer.

I've now been celibate for what feels like quite a long time. I've definitely grown stronger in my self respect and boundaries. There are other people I know who are trying to figure out what's right in terms of relationships, boundaries and love. I'm getting better at seeing things very clearly and knowing how to choose what's right for me. Men who can't commit are becoming less attractive to me sexually, and I'm really enjoying Internet Dating. I have about 10 men I'm talking to (via the messages on site) regularly, and of those, five get my heart rate going. I've been on two dates, and both men were kind, intelligent and attractive, but not my 'cup of tea'. One of them has still offered for me to come over and use his spa pool whenever I like. Ha ha.

The only thing is fitting it all in. The dating I mean. I do my voluntary teaching in the mornings, and  my part time after school care in the afternoons. I leave the house at 9 and get home at 6 most days. I like having time to do nothing and I'm buggering that up.

So it's dinner Wed with a man from Rotorua, yoga on Thursday, date with a hot guy who looks like a player on Friday, hang out with Ma on Saturday, then coffee on Sunday with a guy who seems to think the sun shines out of my bung hole. Hey. Maybe it does. If you see me and I'm glowing, that's why.

There's also a guy who likes The Feelers and Op Shop, bands I don't have anything against, but I wouldn't be able to go and SEE them. How would that work? Is that a deal breaker? Imagine going on holiday and you're in the car with someone for three hours and they want to listen to The Feelers and Jack Johnson the whole way. I could cope with Jack Johnson for a few songs, but imagine it for an hour or something. Now imagine that person putting up with me playing Tori Amos or The White Stripes. Yeah. It's a deal breaker isn't it? There's one guy in my fine selection of internet men who has very good taste in music. He's one of the 'top picks' on my list right now. He also loves cats, possibly as much as me! He even mentioned cat reflexology ... now that's some deep cat lovin'.

Hey, speaking of music, Morrissey is coming!! Can't. Wait. The more you ignore me, the closer I get ... every day is like sunday ... spring heeled jim ...

Oh in fact I do love the words to Spring Heeled Jim ...

Spring-heeled Jim winks an eye
He'll "do," he'll never be "done to"
He takes on whoever flew through
"Well, it's the normal thing to do"

Spring-heeled Jim lives to love
Now kissing with his mouth full
And his eyes on some other fool
So many women
His head should be spinning
Ah, but no!

Spring-heeled Jim slurs the words:
"There's no need to be so knowing
Take life at five times your average speed, like I do"
Until Jim feels the chill
"Oh, where did all the time go?"
Once always in for the kill
Now it's too cold
And he feels too old

Oh Mowissy, I wuv you!

So Marc ... September and it makes me think of you, of all the daffodils, of riding my bike and crying, of cold swims and your funeral. Playing 'Blue Monday' which worked well, cos you did it on a Monday. Not mad at you, just hoping that people will find ways out of the hole and into a reason to love being alive.

Cos I do. I love it. I love being here.

xxx

Clinical Hypnotherapy and The Deep.

8th September 2012:  The birds are singing and the clock is ticking. I have created a self hypnosis affirmation in which the sound of the clock ticking is benevolent, that it helps me to be organised and punctual. Organised and punctual. That's right. Being organised and punctual feels good. Very good. The clock tick is a friendly little voice saying 'on time feels fine'.

It is now day 8 of the 9 day course in Clinical Hypnotherapy with Roger Saxelby. This block focuses mainly on the kind of relaxation and visualisation work used in a wide variety of situations and modalities, the history of Hypnotherapy, the ways it can be used and how to use it effectively to help yourself and others. This block of the course (I'm doing the full course) focuses mainly on using the positive affirmation style hypnotherapy. Affirmations aren't very effective when you're just using them with your conscious mind, you have to by pass that and get to The Deep! We will learn how to do the regressive process in the October block. There are three other people in the classroom for this part of the course, and to say we are all rather strong characters would be a mild way of putting it. It's like a strange sitcom. A very funny one.

Roger is a sweet, smart man of later years, and though hard of hearing he is sharp in mind. He emphasises the fact that hypnotherapy may have a rather mystical reputation, but that it is effective for reasons that are based in science. Discussions cover the full gamut - is it really possible to create a 'Manchurian Candidate', what's the difference between stage hypnotism and clinical hypnotherapy, the use of hypnotic techniques in religion, politics and advertising, can people be hypnotised to do things they don't want to? We practice on each other, and Roger encourages us to write 'scripts' for different situations using positive language, also role playing situations which may arise. The main fear that people have is that they will be hypnotised into doing or saying something against their will.  Hypnotism works on the subconscious, and your subconscious must still give permission for you to do or say anything. You can't do something unless on some level, you really want to do it. The exception to this is when brainwashing techniques accompany hypnotherapy. Brainwashing techniques involve things like changing the diet, restricting sleep and being worked into a highly emotional state. Cult leaders certainly know how to play that game, and sometimes less nefarious outfits use brainwashing techniques for reasons of enlightenment. I never have managed to do a Vipassana retreat, but I can't say I'm in any hurry to meditate for 8 hours a day, rise at 4am, eat small vegetarian meals ... and not speak. For 11 days straight. I sometimes toy with the idea and then think 'ah, nah'. I'd rather do 90 minutes of yoga, or walk for two hours, and then have a nice glass of wine.

Hypnotherapy itself is powerful, but it is only as powerful as your own subconscious.

Years ago I went to a stage hypnotism show. I can't remember who the guy was, but I volunteered along with about 9 others to get on stage to be hypnotised. I believed I would be. I was quite excited about it. As I stood there and he did his thing, I felt that nothing he said was having an effect on me. I felt like a dick. I was also wearing very high heels and a short skirt. There was a fear, not even a subconscious one, that I might fall over and give everyone more of a show than intended. I could not relax. I opened my eyes and looked at all the others with their arms out in front of them as if they were sleep walking. I thought 'they must be pretending' and walked off the stage and back to my seat in the audience.

When I went to Caroline Cranshaw (Hypnotherapist) last year, I'd already decided that I didn't really care if hypnosis didn't feel the way I thought it would. I trusted her and as a result, I could relax and let go of fear. The letting go of fear made it easy to enter into an altered state, and it's a perfectly natural state that we can all learn. Athletes use it with great success, and there are many amazing examples of people using hypnosis to give up smoking, lose weight and increase confidence. I would love to help people achieve their goals. That's my goal. To help you with yours. What I love is how it isn't any great mystery. The Hypnotist is no magician, simply a facilitator.

Evening Time:

Another information packed day, very intense for me. Having such good laughs with my fellow students. Very good puns being thrown around daily. Can't say too much of it all, got to respect the privacy of people who will be future colleagues. I'm feeling very motivated by what I'm learning.

Quick Life Update

I decided to take a very long break from The Sexy Ex a few weeks ago. That's been fine. I haven't even missed sex, hasn't been a worry at all. I am back on internet dating and feel very positive about it. I'm getting the best selection of men messaging me, men with minds, men with questions, men with communication skills and reasonable levels of self awareness. Quite good looking ones too. I may or may not share what happens with such things depending on my mood.

I'm considering drawing the blog to a close and using that time to write a book that's been simmering away inside me for about 9 years. I originally wrote quite a lot of it and then the computer I had died and I lost everything I'd written. I've been procrastinating ever since. Now that I can hypnotise myself I may as well direct that skill into any areas of procrastination or fear. I've always worried that it just won't be good enough. That I'm not good enough. Inferiority complex beggone, you are a figment of my overactive subconscious and I'm seeing what you're up to!

Tomorrow is the last day of this part of the course. I will go on to do the second part in October.
On Monday I'm back teaching English to the women who have gone through SHAKTI foundation for domestic abuse. I'll be doing it voluntarily, 12 weeks worth, and I'm excited about showing the women how to use relaxation techniques and visualisation to assist them with problems like insomnia and low self esteem. All of that can be incorporated into English lessons, so all the learning will be saturated with self empowerment.

So much I'm thinking about. So much to keep learning.

The Painter is back from Europe! He has gone on a journey that I knew would be transformative and healing, and I do think the answers he seeks are within close reach. Although I did not get on a plane or a train (or even a bus) in the last five weeks, I feel like I have somehow also travelled very far. I've gone very deep. Very deep.

I'm very sleepy.
So sleepy.

Night night. x

How to recognise an abusive 'Friend' (and my new fave song!)

March 25th 2012

Left: wow, took this last week, a praying mantis shedding it's skin. Gorgeous!

Well I'm enjoying The Boxcar Rattle; they're getting a bit of air play on BFM. Love it. Lots of energyyyy.

Today I was looking back at my old diaries. I was thinking about my old (now ex) friend 'Rose'. Her birthday is coming up, and it will be the first time in 18 years that I haven't gone all out looking for beautiful things for her. We have a lot of history together. I don't exactly miss her; she had a habit of not being entirely present for me when the going got rough. So what do you do when a friendship is 'completed', especially a long one?

RECOGNISING A NARCISSIST ...

I recently found a great article on the Oprah site by Martha Beck. It talked about recognising a narcissist personality and that it's rare this kind of person will see reason if you step outside the assigned 'role'. It's hard to imagine that someone quiet and shy could be the one doing the manipulating. Looking at one excerpt from a 1997 diary I am amazed that I allowed myself to be treated the way I was. I was recovering from my fractured pelvis and displaced left hip, and still on crutches. I was really fragile physically and emotionally:

10th February 1997 (names changed)

Rose and I were really honest with each other about a week ago. She mainly needed to tell me I had hurt her feelings when I had snapped at her sometimes, and she was feeling resentful.

One night when I stayed over at her place I was meant to sleep in with her, but Barry, her boyfriend, had come over, so I got left in the lounge with nothing. I slept on the floor. If it wasn't for Logan's friend Peter, I wouldn't even have had a blanket.

I thought the whole thing was a mistake, but it turns out she knew she'd done it and didn't know what to do, so took the coward's way and went to sleep. Really, I think I am still angry about that, but I let her off lightly to start with as I knew she was drunk etc.

Now that I know she purposely left me out there, I feel like I can't trust her. I would NEVER do that to her.

I'd forgotten about this until I re-read that diary thismorning. In fact, there are a lot of things like this that happened throughout our friendship that I continually forgave or over looked because I really loved her. Sadly, it's obvious that her habit of being resentful did keep popping up over the years, and my habit of being her Echo and doing whatever I could to save the friendship persisted. After awhile you realise you can't do it anymore. Martha Beck writes about it beautifully:

Martha Beck article from Oprah site:

Imagine what this friend's response would be if you stopped playing your part or stepped into hers. Would she be shocked or angry? Would she ice you, scold you, drop off your social calendar? If so, I'm afraid that particular connection isn't exactly a friendship. Rigid roles enforced by social pressure add up to something else—something I call a naiad dyad. Naiads are mythological nymphs who ruled the rivers and springs of ancient Greece. One of these watery demigoddesses had a famously handsome son named Narcissus, who attracted many admirers, none more admiring than himself. He fell so madly in love with his own reflection that he did nothing but stare at it. Narcissus's friends found this daunting—all, that is, except for another nymph named Echo, whose curse (naiads were highly curse-prone) was that she couldn't voice her own thoughts, only repeat words spoken by others.

In their twisted way, Narcissus and Echo were ideal companions. Both were obsessed with the same person (him), and both expressed the same thoughts, ideas, and opinions (his). I'm sure the next-door satyrs thought their relationship was perfect. Not so much. In one version of the story, Narcissus, unable to work out the logistics of being in love with himself, plunged a dagger into his heart and was transformed into a flower. Echo, devastated, wandered off to haunt canyons and glens, repeating random sentiments shouted by strangers.

I have to say, I really did teach Rose that it was okay to be manipulative in our friendship as I let her get away with it for so long. I tried to be honest all the time, and of course I also have my faults, but I guess the difference is that I do know my faults and I'll admit to them readily.

Take a look at your friendships. Do you have to 'tip toe' around that person in case the love or friendship will be withdrawn from you? The same goes for romantic relationships; if you have to work that hard to keep someone's favour, it might not be worth being 'in favour'. I used to think it was always up to me to work, work, work at loving and rescuing people. Of course our child hood patterns set us up for this, but we are no longer children. It's time to grow up. You can walk away now. You don't have to stay and put up with quiet manipulations or passive agressive behaviour. That sounds simple but may require help. That's the journey we undertake.

Rose had her own issues; food addiction and unresolved grief. People with addiction issues sometimes appear to stagnate at the age they started to deal with life through the addictive behaviour. Her actual intelligence might be at a reasonable level, but emotional intelligence may suffer due to denial. The denial carries over into other areas of life. That's why programmes like AA or Overeaters Anonymous are so important; it shifts a person out of denial and then they can get a handle on the feelings and fears they swallowed. I still hope Rose gets help and is able to look after herself properly as a result.

So let's take a look at how a real friend treats you. She or he allows for your humanity. She won't let resentments build up until you're being made to sleep on the floor with broken bones.

She or he will trust the kindness and love you've shown rather than focusing on the one mistake you make. There's a big difference between making an honest mistake and someone deliberately hurting you. Rose had a history of finding ways to deliberately withdraw her love or to hurt me, yet I continually saw her as sweet and beloved. I was her Echo. I kept choosing to believe she hadn't meant to be unkind. Big mistake. It's like a man who keeps a woman on a tight leash, a man who tells a woman she's a goddess one day and a slut the next; it's a power play and it's not cool.

As you grow in authentic power, you will find these kind of manipulators and bullies dropping out of your life. It's good to take responsibility for your own mistakes; I know I have to sometimes hold my tongue; mum tells me I can be really scathing. Ha, Andrew likes it when I'm scathing, he thinks it's funny. He says I need to be 'less tolerant' and I think that might be working for me in some strange way.

Having said that, I think what he really means is that I shouldn't take shit, and so my friend, neither should you. Be honest, take responsibility for your own issues whatever they may be, but to keep letting someone be unkind or resentful towards you for not behaving exactly as they want ... that's a whole lot of hard work you don't need.

As far as letting go is concerned, it's easier when you start noticing how difficult it is for the Narcissist friend to be there for you when the going gets rough. A Narcissist is there for herself or himself and even if they make the right noises "oh you poor thing" they won't front up with the goods when you really need them, in fact, they may attack you or abandon you. What are 'the goods'?

The goods; what is the delivery?

No Goods:

When I went through my terrible depression last year (a few months worth) I reached out to Rose and asked if I could stay with her one night as I was so low. I basically begged. She said no. She said her flat was "busy till next year". Oh. So she couldn't have me over for one single night for a period of nearly three months?

I was surprised, but not entirely. You reach a point where you realise the Narcissist friend's lack of support should be accepted without complaint or question (or she'll leave you). As it turns out, tolerating this kind of 'fair weather friend' behaviour just reinforces it ... it's like being friends with a massive toddler.

The Delivery:

I then rang my dear friend Lisa. She invited me to stay as soon as possible for an entire weekend. She held me when I cried. She had my favourite wine waiting in the fridge and had gone and bought beef for a roast meal. I was treated like the most beloved sister. The spare bed was made up with lovely fresh sheets. She sat and listened when I poured out my heart and assured me I would get through it.

If you are on the shit end of the stick, then you are bound to have had a few (or more) of these kind of experiences. For some reason, your loyalty and love stops you from calling the person out. You make up excuses for them. You know they wouldn't mean to be unkind or thoughtless. Well wake up sunshine, cos I've been there too many times, and I'm over it. I hope you're getting to that point too, if you've been the Echo in a friendship for too long.

Take courage. You won't miss them as much as you think. Other kinder people will enter your life, and you'll notice that you don't have to 'be careful' all the time of what you say or do in case it's being stored away and stewed over. I will never again be friends with someone who deliberately hurts me.

So happy birthday Rose. I hope you get everything you ever dreamed of and all that you deserve.

;)