The Fifty-Seventh: Presence

The phenomenon of giving presents to others is so profound. It's almost in giving that we are indeed selfish. When you think about it, we give to feel better about ourselves, or to gain an emotional response in others, thus reflecting that response onto ourselves once more. I am not heartless. I love giving. I could go completely against my words and say "I love to give because I know that the gifts that I send will bring happiness to the bearer." That's not entirely untrue. It is a reason. But the notion that you're giving to invoke an emotion is still just playing in my mind.

I'm not trying to dismantle Christmas, or suggest that people stop buying me presents, because I love getting them, it's simply the motives behind some peoples' giving. The guilt of "having" to buy someone a present for their birthday. Is that really heartfelt giving? Or is that just culture turned "what is right and wrong?".

Thoughts are swirling.

The Fifty-Sixth: Full of Self

Even though I have received many messages and calls of concern today from friends and family, at the end of the day, I'm still alone and feeling utterly helpless, lying in a hospital bed.

You see, when you're in an unfortunate situation, you're the only one living it 24/7. Everyone else can give their thoughts and prayers, but they can forget about you and your problem immediately afterwards. Out of sight, out of mind.

I am guilty of such things, however I suppose I have been victim to this more than others.

Blah blah blah.

The Fifty-Fifth: Twins

I am writing from the hospital. I've now got both of my major surgeries out of the way so it's only forward moving from now on. Whilst I'm immobile (no driving for a little while) I plan on finding furniture and exciting things like that to place in my new house.

Things are good.
So is life.

The Fifty-Fourth: Nonchalant

I am happy.

I am happy.

I am happy.

I really am.

The Fifty-Third: Wrong in all the Right Ways

Today was a test of some description. Whom it was set up by and to prove remain a mystery but it certainly was tricky.

I had my last consultation before my second surgery next week. It's a little scary but because it's semi-elective (though largely medical), I feel that I should be braver. As in, I opted to have it, I shouldn't complain about it.

Still, the same lack of control scenario is breathing down my neck and I'm crumbling slightly under it's gaze.

In a week's time, it'll all be over and I'll be starting my recover. The second joyous recovery period of this year. That means no driving might I add. I'll be going stir-crazy for approximately 2 weeks. I'm shuddering at the thought of being bound to my house.

I found solace today in a song. Bizarre song choice, but P!nk always seems to really improve my spirits. So for now, "Raise Your Glass" is my happiness. Why so serious?

The Fifty-Second: Futile Devices

I took a plane flight back from Melbourne to Perth on Monday.

There were no little TV screens on the back of the seats.

There were no little TV screens above us near the lights and air con.

There were no little TV screens at all.

This isn't a princess issue. I'm not complaining because I'm someone who just has to have entertainment on a flight. I had an issue with this because normally I use films to distract me for the entirety of the time that I'm in a 180 tonne object 12km above the ground. Luckily though, an old friend was flying home on the same flight as me and we couldn't stop talking for the whole 4 hours.

I discovered something though.

I discovered the source of my anxieties that are to do with flying and other such things. It's the fact that there are so many variables out of my control. I'm not a control freak and I very often let things go wild, but when it comes flights, I don't like the fact that I don't know when the plane is going to jump up and down. I don't like that something could happen that could lead to intense disaster. I've always loved flying. I've flown on horribly long flights before. Yet going to and from domestic cities, somehow I'd developed an anxiety of flying. Lately, I appear to have fought and won my battle with this fear though. I'm quite proud of that.

Another great fear of mine is fear of loss. I'm almost 100% sure that I've mentioned this before so I won't go into it, but it makes so much sense to me now I can look back and see how I think. I have a constant, almost innate fear that the people closest to me are in trouble, or if I leave, I might not see them again. This fear is just the same as the flying anxiety. It's something I can't control or predict, therefore it scares me.

It's just so hilariously annoying. How the mind can work against us so criminally. I wish there was a way to let all of it go.

The Fifty-First: Back and Forth

It seems like I'm just a little bit behind in my own thoughts.

By this, I mean my thoughts are forming but I'm not truly realising them until a little while later. They creep up on me. It's frustrating.

I just wish I could see my thoughts like a word document or have them keep little tabs so when one of them forms in my subconscious, I know about it.

Instead, they all seem to rush in at the most inappropriate moments of anger and pain. Like a giant test of my strength to be able to handle them when I don't want them. It's a constant battle.

Melbourne tends to let my mind wander. Perhaps it's not the city at all, just the change of scenery and people. I can feel myself having a lot of inspiration when I live here in a few months.

"Come on in, I gotta tell you what a state I'm in."