Broken Bella Donna











{August 20, 2014}   Poorly formed epiphanies and the ongoing tale of spazz

So my entire life – or at least since I was 12 – I’ve embraced my weirdness. Heavily bullied and ostracized in primary school, I hit high school and said fuck you to the majority. I was going to be the  minority and I was going to damn well enjoy it. If I wouldn’t be accepted I would go out of my way to stand out. And I did. Not so much in high school, where I was rebelling against the norm and finding my feet, but by the time I hit college I was giving the bird to the sky and deliberately drawing attention for not fitting in. I dressed differently, I acted differently, I reacted differently, and the biggest insult to me was to tell me I was normal.

I’ve carried this desire to this very day. There’s too much ‘normal’ in the world and it’s the minorities, the ostracized, the 1%ers who make a difference. Because they’re not so preoccupied with what everyone else is doing to forge their own path… they’re not so busy following the trends. They may not be making the trends but they’re damn well following their own lifestyle.

As an ‘adult’ (and i use the term loosely) I’ve maybe… melted back towards the norm a little. I still hold very different beliefs, I still have a very different lifestyle. I don’t do what society wants me to do, I do what I do. I don’t follow the sheeple and a lot of people hold low opinions of me because of this. Standing out and being a little inappropriate is cool and accepted when you’re a teenager and maybe twenty somethings but when you get older you stop being interesting and start being weird. It’s not until you’re 50+ that you get to be eccentric. And I really don’t care about that. But I thought I was doing it discretely… not because I want to hide it, but because it’s how it has panned out. I suppose I have less opportunity to be ‘interesting’ now I live (very) rurally, it was easier when I lived in a big city. Sometimes it’s inappropriate to dress ‘differently’ when your clothing has, ahhh, not PG comments on it and you volunteer around kids. Sometimes you have to keep your opinions to yourself because you’re representing something bigger than you. So I suppose I had just been chugging along in my unique life, flying under the radar. But it dawned on me today… I haven’t.

I’ve been picking up on little comments lately. One friend (who is very left of centre) telling me she likes me because I refuse to toe the party line and I’m not afraid to be different. Another new friend on facebook telling me she’d happily accept my friend request because I’m not a pack follower. It looks like I AM still unique and without a single shit in regards to people who don’t like that.

 awesomeI love that.

I am weirdly delighted that I have held onto my me-ness (hur hur rhymes with penis!) throughout everything, and that no matter what has happened along the way, I haven’t lost that.

In the last year or so I have just… come across realisation after realisation in my head. I have sorted ducks into rows, I have folded the washing that has been hanging around the inside of my head for… my whole life? I have started to realise where I fit into things, and I have come to so many conclusions about myself, developed understanding about so many things. It’s like my development was waiting for one single incident. One single occurrence before I could develop any further, and that has occurred and the floodgates have opened. Realisation is mine and it has opened me onto the rest of my lifes path, or at very least the next step. I briefly wonder how far behind I am, if everyone else achieved this before I did and then think… I am handed all the knowledge I need, when I need it. I am learning my lifes lessons if and when. These things can’t be rushed. The whole thing is very zen. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING that happens to me… I review it and instead of thinking “That was a bad thing” I think “What did I learn from this?”

So.

I thought I had a fortnight to get my head around the last spazz inducing episode. Turns out I do not. There was another one being held in my area, but I wasn’t responsible for it. Those who were responsible backed out and asked me to take it on. I stupidly said yes. So I not only have one this weekend, but another six days later. That guy who may or may not be involved in my spazz attacks WILL be there. And the whole thing will be tits up as the order will be wrong and the people will be wrong and when you’re a little OCD in your tendencies, all this fuckery may be disastrous for me. I’ve been hustling trying to get everything organised and do not have the luxury of throwing my hands up in the air on the day and declaring I can’t do it, as there’s no one to replace me in the morning. Hmm. What can I learn from this? I am surprisingly not spazzing about it (yet) and hopeful that I’ll keep reasonably calm and all will go perfectly. Perhaps (I’m hopeful) this will be a dry run for the very last one, which WILL be huge and WILL be stressful. Maybe this is the bridge to boost my confidence ready for that. Lets hope!

Progress on My Big Project is coming along swell, even thought I (once again) have been let down by people who wanted to help. Good news is so far so good on the current step, looks like I can do it myself with no issue or cost. And fingers crossed it might even look good.

And…

  • my boys are both well
  • I look damn good in leggings
  • My niggling tendon pain has finally receded
  • I’ve just about finished my seasonal job for now
  • I FINALLY got to purchase something I’ve been wanting FOREVER and kept missing out on when it was restocked
  • I’m enjoying cooking for the household ATM with successful new dishes
  • I love my snuggly warm bed, esp on nights like tonight
  • And now I’m going to go appreciate it

Out x

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