findingnoo

In a conversation with a co-worker, they mentioned how other people at work like me. Which they then corrected to "most people".  For the rest of the chat, all my mind was fixated on was the fact that not  everyone  likes me. It made me feel sad to think that there are people around me that don't like me. I started thinking - why not? what's wrong with me? what did I do wrong? I bend over backwards for others. Often ignoring my own needs to make sure they have a good day so what more can I do?! Round and round the spiralling went. When the conversation was over, I thought "I don't like every single person I know so..." which then lead to me criticising myself for being a 'mean person' for not liking every single person 100%.  But why did I take it so personally? While I am a flawed and unperfect person taking such things so personally is a daily occurrence for me. And this is - as I'm sure you can imagine - painful and exhausting. In the back...

In recent years I have noticed just how codependent I have been in my relationships. In each relationship that I have been in, whether they are serious or what some may call a "situationship", I have put 110% of myself into them. I'd remember all of the little details, try my best to make their lives as easy as possible, do pretty much whatever they wanted in the bedroom and just basically have them as my every waking thought. I made another person my  e v e r y t h i n g . The reason I got up in the morning, the reason I would go to work. Why I would make the choices I made, have the opinions I had. I moulded myself into whatever they required and was happy to do it. "Codependency: excessive emotional or psychological reliance on a partner, typically one who requires support on account of an illness or addiction." - Google So when a relationship would end I was left with this grand canyon size hole in my life. I'd look around and didn't even recognise m...

For months – I mean months, I had been in so much pain. I hid it all away from everyone. Making my family worry is something that I never want to do so I bottled it up. At times the lid would start to lift off but then I would screw it back on tight. I begged to have the strength to let him go. To be able to move on with my life, move forward. It had gone on for far too long. I pleaded to the universe to give me the strength I needed to let go. He was an ongoing reminder of all the pain I had (and still was) enduring. I hadn’t had the strength to completely walk away and remove him from my life. While I had had enough, the discomfort was familiar. The turbulence was habitual. It was part of my everyday life. It was routine at this point. For about two years of my life, the mind-numbing misery was pretty much the only thing that was consistent. It was a constantly open wound.  Then one day, he was gone. I would never * see him again. And while this feels somewhat peaceful, som...

• |Trigger warning.| • The following contains adult content, my experience with mental, verbal and emotional abuse, mental health struggles. Reader discretion is advised. ❤ 🌱 I don’t know what came over me. It was a normal day, I was doing what I do as I always do it but something was different. I was suddenly filled with courage, anger and with determination. I spoke my truth.  I laid it all out in front of him. I told him how he had made me feel. I explained that I had given him everything I could possibly think of: money, my body, my love, my attention and nearly even my life. And it was still never enough. I let him know how all of this made me feel, how it still makes me feel.  Throughout I had a swirly feeling in my stomach. Saying these things that felt so overdue, out loud, to him… It was surreal. It felt like word vomit but in an articulate, calm and - somehow - polite manner. He, on the other hand, seemed nonchalant and as if he weren’t hearing the words coming out ...

  We are the only thinkers in our minds. – Louise Hay   I’ve been feeling very disconnected from myself. That’s nothing new really, to be honest, but lately, I feel distracted and very distant from myself. I have attended all of my shifts this month (-1) which makes me feel proud. I have been disregarding myself at work. Not staying hydrated, not taking proper breaks, eating crap for the sake of it etc. On my days off, I do nothing and sometimes even less than that. It’s at a point now where I don’t even plan on doing anything let alone plan something and not follow through with it. I haven’t been creating, writing. Wearing makeup is a thing of the past. I get signs to meditate, get fresh air, watch something that promotes growth, sleep routine & waking up earlier, read… But never act on it. I feel so sick of continually getting to this point. It is so draining to know that this vicious cycle will just keep going round and round. I want to change/improve but I never a...

I allowed a patient* to repeatedly hit me. I mean proper hits. Slapping, punching, and grabbing. Fortunately for me, they were of an age and frailty, where no damage was done. No physical damage at least. It didn't occur to me until afterward that I had had multiple opportunities to walk away. To literally leave the situation, but I didn't. I didn't start crying until they (for no apparent reason) grabbed open my uniform. That was when the tears came. The hitting? No real emotional effect but the opening of my clothes without my consent? Completely different story.  It reminded me of him.  *this person suffers from mental illness, I hold no resentment or blame towards them. 

 I remember the goal. The goal was to get well enough to be able to get a job. To push the OCD back and far away enough to be able to have a 'normal' life. Well, I achieved it. It took blood, sweat, guts and too many tears to count but my god did I do it. I looked OCD in the face and told it to fuck off. I mentally listed everything it had taken from me. The opportunities I had missed, the life I had been unable to live. I sat one day flooded in tears saying aloud “I hate you. I HATE YOU”. I had blocked the hoover with tissue that I was too afraid to pick up. I had to practically dismantle the thing to sort it out, which lead me to think that it would have been so much easier and less time consuming to have just picked the stupid tissue up in the first place. I was filled with rage. And for once it wasn't aimed at me, it was aimed directly to the correct culprit, the OCD. Having that thing to directly place the blame on became my bullseye. Something to aim towards – or in m...

• |Trigger warning.| • The following contains adult content, my experience with mental, verbal and emotional abuse, mental health struggles. Reader discretion is advised. ❤ 🌱 I spoke to him. My ex-abuser. I told him about that one specific time and how what he did to me would constitute sexual assault. He looked at me blankly. No apology. I described what he did to me that day. Somehow I managed to describe it without the gory details. Giving just enough information to jog his memory. He couldn't remember. No apology. All he added to the conversation was that I had freaked him out by saying that I could have reported him for what he had done. He didn't ask how I am/how I've been dealing with it etc. No apology. Since what happened I have been plagued with flashbacks. Now when I think of him it is one of the first thoughts I have. But for him? He didn't even remember it happening. No apology. For months I have been in a prison. Remembering that d...

For the majority of 2019 I was in an abusive relationship. In December of that year I - reluctantly and somewhat unwillingly - walked away. Throughout our time together there had been flags of all kinds of colours. Which I pushed to one side every time. The way in which he spoke to me, about me and how he treated my soul and body wasn't okay. To put it lightly. But he kind of reminded me of someone. Me. The words he would use, the lack of consideration for my thoughts and feelings. His callousness with my emotional well being, the body that I live in and my mental health. It all felt familiar. Close to home. I feel on some level he was able to see what little regard I had for myself and used that as his benchmark. It makes me assess other relationships I have had and how there is a common under current to how I am treated. Since then I have been on the journey working on healing. I have had racing thoughts, endless questions to which I have largely been trying to push to one sid...