Broken Bella Donna

{November 2, 2012}  

My inner turmoil is going totally bug arse crazy ATM.

I’m not sure I follow the whole biological clock ticking scenario, but from time to time I just get weird with this lust to parent. It doesn’t happen often so when it does it is COMPLETELY left field. I don’t have lots of good friends having babies, I don’t find myself madly in lust with any special man whom I want to father my children. I just…

Found myself listening to a newborn baby crying on TV tonight. I smiled. That’s right. SMILED. Brain said… “Aw. Cute!” NO SCREAMING BABY IS CUTE.

Bought a family friends new baby a pair of booties last weekend. Never met the kid and his mum can’t stand me. BUT THEY’RE ALL WIDDLE AND TINY AND CUUUUUUUUUUUUUUTE.

Sat watching a man reading a story to a class of kids today. Known this guy (not real well) for months now. Starting intently at his side profile as he explained stuff to the class. Somewhat randomly thought “… I could fall in love with you, right now if I’m not careful.” I don’t DO love. I don’t FALL in love. WTF? Found myself sizing up his shoulders (shoulders are sexy, ok?) and trying to work out how tall he was. He’s MARRIED. GTFO! He isn’t even my type?

No idea what is going on in my strange little head.

I’m finding things… easy at the moment. Relaxing. No pressure.  Have beaten the spazz attacks back into submission (for how long? Hopefully forever!) and everything flows smoothly and beautifully from there. I can build my life back up to what I was happy with and hope that I manage to stop shy of stress again. Perhaps this newfound confidence is contributing towards my aforementioned feelings? Who knows.

New confidence could also be attributed towards two men who are flitting around the peripheries of my life at the moment; two men who are flattering my ego with their comments. Neither of which are married (for a change). One is even age appropriate (for a change).

Apparently I am beautiful. I am *still* gorgeous. I often wonder why I don’t see the same person that others see. I do not see beautiful, I do not see gorgeous (still or otherwise). I wonder if the knowledge of what goes on in my head clouds the way I view myself physically? Do I have a different idea of attractive? Do I suffer some strange body dis-morphism? Or has growing up with an overly critical parent forever scarred my view of myself, so I believe her when she says I’m not that slim, or as pretty as others, etc?

{September 23, 2012}  

I have been having a bit of a rough time of it lately…. nothing huge I suppose, but small, stupid things that all add up to one bad temper. I came in here to complain, to get life off of my chest but… that probably isn’t going to make me feel any better at all. In fact it’ll probably make me dwell on things, and feel shittier until I go and cry myself to sleep just for the pressure release. So instead, I’m going to think about all the things I like. And perhaps I can sweet talk my brain into being happy. It’s worth a try.

  • Jelly beans
  • The first time you climb into bed after putting on the flannel sheets for Winter
  • Receiving parcels in the mail
  • People remembering your birthday
  • Putting on my favourite perfume just for me
  • High heeled boots
  • Puppies
  • The fizz of something new with someone special
  • Laughing until you snort
  • Bushwalking
  • That moment you upload your photos onto your PC and you realise that shot that looked PERFECT on your review screen really IS that perfect
  • Completing a project
  • Chicken soup
  • Hugs from small children
  • Getting back in touch with an old friend
  • Men that smell good
  • Bright shoelaces
  • Being thanked
  • New socks
  • Flirty conversation
  • Re reading old blog posts and realise they were GOOD
  • Having a clean home
  • Ironing
  • Chocolate cake with fluffy chocolate icing
  • The smell of coffee
  • A fresh bottle of coca cola
  • Holding hands
  • Finding money or fun things in pockets of old clothes
  • Photos from yesteryear
  • Being understood. I mean REALLY understood
  • Snuggling under the doona and listening to the rain
  • Standing outside in the rain
  • Heat packs
  • The sound of silence
  • Getting caught up in a spectacular book
  • When a new recipe turns out perfectly
  • Making new friends
  • Nice comments on your blog
  • Lists
  • Finding something perfect in a second hand store
  • Vanilla
  • Pretty matching underwear
  • Working outdoors
  • New CD’s released by your favourite artist
  • Going to the museum
  • Pizza
  • Giving someone the perfect present
  • Sunny days
  • Hearing a song that sounds like it was written JUST for YOU
  • Compliments
  • Been bone tired after a long day of doing something useful
  • Walking
  • Others brushing/playing with my hair
  • Nice text messages

Oops. That list got accidentally quite long 🙂

{September 2, 2012}  

I like how this blog doesn’t require me to actually come up with at title. I hate coming up with titles. Perhaps “I hate coming up with titles” would be a good title.


I’m meant to be doing homework, and in my defence I’ve done some… just not enough. But any progress is forward progress, right?

I’ve been too scared to blog lately. Things have been going well, so smoothly… too smoothly. Every time I get on blogging and admire my life and how great it is, everything goes to shit – usually in such a fashion that the world seems too big to deal with and something really bad happens to something I like. I hate this, and I hate it quite a lot. It leaves me only here when things are bad, and thus reading back on this blog makes me look like a loser, a whinger, a whiner… like I think the whole world is out to get me and that I can’t see the positives. This is NOT me. I am very much a glass half full gal. Sadly, the only attention this blog gets from me is glass-completely-empty-and-broken.

Therefore I’m only here because some stuff is crap. Some stuff is great, but the balance seems safe enough to blog about.

Have officially (I think) completed the spazz inducing situation for the year. Unless I get dumped with another, which I’ll know about within the next ten days. Have remained spazz free, which leaves me open to putting this one to bed and not being even remotely concerned about it anymore – like it used to be before it spontaneously turned to shit. Even the last installment, which was bigger and scarier than I had dealt with was FINE. If anything it was more than fine, it was bloody good. The world did not tilt on its axis, I did not spazz out, no one looked poorly upon me. It was all good. No worries on the day, no real worries leading up to it other than good old fashioned normal butterflies. Ergo, I can now finally put that one to bed! Huzzah for me! Alas there goes my social life on the weekends too, but oh well.

I seem to have – I’m almost too scared to type this – a full handle on my spazz attacks again. No more lurking around corners, no threats, no rewriting my life around what may happen. I am feeling confident and in control for now. They flared up in an ugly and annoying fashion for no real reason I can pin point, hung around for long enough to remind me I’m never entirely free of them, and have settled. I made huge steps in my life between the first and second flare ups, lets hope I can progress even more between the second and third – or better yet, let the third never eventuate!

On a less positive note, clouds are hanging around again, in the form of the health of a pet. If you knew me, you’d know that by pet I mean pet child replacement/best friend. A tummy-rattling concoction of tablets seemed to fix the problem for 24 hours but just now has flared up again and is making me a sad panda. Hoping it was a once off accident. Fingers crossed.

If it wasn’t for that, my life would near be perfect at the present. That and the ever lingering sodding homework.

Have also finally taken the next step in The Big Project, after months – err let’s be honest, over a year – of planning. I can now do nearly half of the insulating, and hopefully by the time I get that done the other half will have arrived and I can complete the job. Then (knowing me) I can spend the next bloody year faffing around with the idea of plastering before I actually get around to doing it.

I really need to start setting myself some goals of jobs to complete. I have far, far too many half finished things hanging over my head, in the form of homework, craft projects, Big Project projects… my life is just made up of half arsed attempts at things. Finally getting around to completing things would make me happier, and save me a lot of money in the process.

I bet this idea remains an uncompleted idea. Ha ha!

{May 1, 2012}  

Things are still weird.

I… feel ultimately very vulnerable with this guy and his attentions. I don’t understand why but I am becoming increasingly more flustered when I talk to him, when I’m trying to explain or justify or whatever. Which I don’t usually feel any need to do. I’m very candid with him – as I think I said, very early in the piece I started explaining about my spazz attacks and that is something I don’t usually feel comfortable/the need to do – and everything seems to have hurtled towards a surreal, almost intimate relationship very quickly. I’m unsure if I’m comfortable with it, but at the same time I don’t know if I’m uncomfortable with it either.

It feels almost like he knows me, and I him. Like we’ve come from similar situations, that we share the same demons, which I’m fairly sure we don’t. But we’re both broken people and I think we both understand that perhaps there is so much more to each other than most others would – I don’t mean this in a ‘HE GETS ME!’ way, like I want to run off and have his children – I don’t, he’s married for Pete’s sake – but it is nice to have to not put up a front. It is strange and I don’t really understand my thoughts or feelings at the moment, but I do enough to say that there seems to be no threat to his marriage from either side; he’s made it clear what the situation is there and I have no desires to take it any further than what it is now. In fact I’m not entirely sure I wanted things to progress to the point they are now, but what’s done is done.

Things are strange. I feel strange.

He is still laying on the compliments, hard and fast. I am not entirely comfortable with them and explained this to him. I don’t think he’s lying but I don’t think they’re truthful either, not in real life, perhaps to him they are but… They don’t sit well with me, they feel like lies. I feel like I’m being deceptive, although I understand that unless you’re a fan of the fake tan/boobs/nails etc you CAN’T be deceptive in regards to that sort of thing, not when people see you in real life. I can’t look in the mirror and see a ‘exceptionally hot’ person. I don’t see the… what was it… ‘fine features, pretty face and great body’. I just see me and I don’t think I’m that special. In fact I know I’m not. But I feel that most people – people like me anyway – look in the mirror and see their inner demons as much as their external front. Perhaps I feel that because we’ve been so candid, because he seems to understand that I have demons, that he should also be able to see them…

It feels so damn weird, it really does. Not bad weird, maybe not good weird, just unusual. Like no one should know so much about the inner mind of another person without… without what? Without being them? Is how I feel right now how people who read this blog feel? Like they know too much, and that they wish that perhaps they didn’t, so that cloud of knowledge wasn’t there, lingering over everything? Like some strange perverse intimacy that invades everything, leaving you feeling dirty in your vulnerability?

Vulnerable keeps coming up, and that is what it is. I’ve given too much too quickly, and I have no idea if this friendship will or even can continue. And if it doesn’t, it will leave me wondering was my weirdness, and my desperate-ness that chased it off. I’m less than comfortable with my own forthrightness… and his.

And I’m still scared that I am deliberately attracting his attentions in a hope to make myself feel less alone. He says that I’m not, and based on things he says from when we first met, I am inclined to believe him but… at the same time, I’m left wondering if I’m just another sad, pathetic little girl who needs validation from married men in order to feel like I’m worth something. Nevermind the fact that at no stage did I approach any of these three men in order to ‘start’ anything; they all contacted me, came to me with their comments and their friend requests and their innuendo and their roaming hands and their text messages and their ‘can I have your number’s. But be this as it may, I’m the one waiting for them to log on, or text me, or drive past my place and pull in for a coffee. I’m the one analysing their every word, blogging it, trying to make sense of my place in this life. I’m the one living in the past, or so far in the future, but never in the now.

Or perhaps, in this situation, too much in the now.

He asked me to keep our conversations private as he may want to tell me things he’s never told anyone else before. I jokingly asked him if he was hiding me as his secret online girlfriend. He replied that he wasn’t hiding, but protecting us, if I understood what he meant, which I’m not entirely sure I do. And he let the online girlfriend comment go, but that’s almost what it feels like, a relationship made up of mental intimacy, the sex replaced with vulnerability and gut emotion. Opening your soul and laying it bare, for someone else to pick over like a crow, to satisfy their own emptiness. Or curiosity. Or perhaps just… tit for tat. Tell me your innermost thoughts and feelings so that I don’t feel like you hold all the cards. Perhaps the release and relief of just letting spill the tar and dark matter than clogs your heart and soul is worth it, if only to let it  spill onto a keyboard and into someone elses mind. Alas, leaving them ‘knowing’ you. A downside.

It’s like finding… someone equally as broken. Someone who doesn’t think you should change for the sake of fitting in. Someone who is willing to let you be you, even if that you isn’t quite right in the head. Perhaps someone who can save you from yourself – but when these two people are of opposite sex, it’s expected that they will enter into a romantic relationship – can they circle each other without this happening?

I have no great desire for an intimate sexual relationship with anyone, that is too much like letting someone in under my skin, letting them see me with all guards down. I am too broken for that. But I’m terrified that I will confuse all… this… whatever this may be, for desire.

It’s my obsessive personality coming out. I must concentrate on reigning it in.

Blogging this has helped me sort through some thoughts in my head. Trusty blog. I wish I could show him to try and explain, but I don’t want him finding out even more from this blog, and I don’t want to come across as a completely loopy nutjob. Or anymore so than I already have.

{March 21, 2012}  

(I hate hate HATE coming up with post names. I have left this one untitled until I think of a good one – lets hope that happens by the end of this post…)


Shit it’s chilly tonight.

Cat spent overnight at the vet. Came home, still no idea. Still wont eat so if it doesn’t sort that out by tomorrow we’ll be back off again. I’m kinda tired of having a vet that sends 75% of animals home with the diagnosis of  ‘dunno’… it’s just not good enough, but when you live outside of a populated, built up area you kinda get used to having second class everything. Fingers crossed he’s better by tomorrow.

God, I keep feeling bad about blogging about my boring life shit. I keep feeling that if I haven’t got anything to say worth reading, nothing stimulating or intelligent, that I’m letting some sort of side down. Which is crap as my blogging has always been narcissistic and used as a vent. It’s why I’m hardly blogging these days… I just… don’t think anyone wants to read my snivelling crap.

I hate KFC’s ‘goodification’ campaign. Like the budding generation these days need the encouragement to invent words. Especially stupid ones.

Life isn’t proving too stressful at the moment, in spite of the fact my #1 stress inducer is starting up again in a month. And the cat is chucking up blood. And my ex job (that I’m still too bloody involved in, in an advisory capacity) is chucking up some very tricky issues ATM. I’ve stopped feeling spazzy  every time I go to bed, and stopped feeling spazzy whenever I think of spazz inducing situations. This means I’m getting life under control again. For now? Hopefully for good.

Trying not to get overly excited, but ATM my current job is looking promising to not only continue, but to perhaps grow. I’ll never make a lot of money, not even enough to be considered a real ‘job’ however it, plus a few other small month making schemes will hopefully add up to enough to live on, if I’m frugal. And I am. Grew up in a povo situation so I’m used to it. I’m a demon at saving, and pinching pennies until they scream, so it should be all good.

You know, I wonder if I’m feeling more settled due to that? If I think about it, perhaps the spazz attacks started around the same time my previous work fell through? That, coupled with the inappropriate advances… hrm. I think I’m onto something. Wow. I’ve been writing it off to my weirdness, and it may have boiled down to good old fashioned financial insecurity.

I’ve spent so long – the last 16 years – being so freaked out by the silliest little things, now I don’t realise when I’m legitimately worried by something. Ain’t that something.

Thank you blog, for letting me dribble my way towards another epiphany!

I need a haircut. I swore recently I was going to dye my hair an awesome colour. Still trying to get the nerve to go bubblegum pink.

{January 14, 2012}   Midgets?

I just read the word widgets as midgets.

Feeling a little lonely and unloved at the minute. Spending too much time thinking about stuff I shouldn’t be dwelling on. People I shouldn’t be dwelling on. Reading flattering messages from men who mean nothing to me, just to remind myself that I’m still desirable.

It’s such a stupid circle. I find myself desiring attention and orchestrating chances to gain it, from men that it’s inappropriate to expect it from… non threatening men… technically… until it becomes threatening and freaks me out. The older I get, the more complicated this all seems and I thought it was meant to be the other way around?

Most of the time I don’t feel lonely and I know that by being single, I can be my own person – no one to answer to, I can flirt, spend my own money, do what I want and I KNOW that in a relationship, I’d feel smothered and irritated. And aren’t I so STRONG that I can do this and not feel like I need to be vindicated by others??? And that other 10% the time I feel miserable, like I’m washed up, on the shelf, not worth the bother.

Just feeling that 10% a bit today.

My dog is going through some health problems. Problems that are similar to a massive cancer scare we had not all that long ago. Reminds me that he isn’t infallible, and that I will lose him one day – my pets are the only things allowed under my skin. I have a feeling this current crop could well end up the last I have… for all the joy they give me, that understanding that they too will hurt me is enough to tarnish it.

I usually fancy myself glass half full in life – I like to hope for the best. But when it comes to matters of the heart I am definitely glass half empty…

I am still eating breakfast every day. Go me!

{January 2, 2012}   The year anew

I was once asked by someone I used to be friends with if I had made a new years ‘revolution’. I thought that wasn’t entirely inappropriate – as every new years we all do an about-face and swear we’re going to change, and by the end of the year we’re all the same, ready to revolve again come January 1st.

Courtesty of…

(n.) resolution
a formal expression of opinion or intention made, usu. after voting, by a formal organization, a legislature, or other group and/or the act of resolving or determining upon a course of action, method, procedure, etc.


I again this year was asked by another friend (hello) if I had made a new years resolution… I said no, that I don’t do that, that I feel my self-improvement is an ongoing job and that I don’t need to start a new year to continue it. Or something pious, to that effect.

Upon checking the definition of resolution… I stick to this opinion. Instead of a new years resolution, I set myself goals that I hope to achieve, and I’ll be happy if I at least make some effort, even if they become unattainable.  I do not resolve to do something, I aim to. Sometimes my goals have tangible end results, sometimes they don’t – the fact is I often can’t measure the success. Is this the same thing? In my head it isn’t, however I suspect that comes down to interpretation. To me, resolutions are promises, whereas my desires are simply hopes…

Why set yourself up for failure?

So my goals for 2012?

  • To implement better eating  habits – breakfast is my key goal at the moment. I’ve never been a breakfast person and I’m hoping that by incorporating it into my diet – if not every day at least regularly – I might feel better. I’m also aiming for more fibre, less carbonated drinks and opting for wholemeal or multigrain over white. Have had some niggling health issues lately and I’m hoping these changes might sort them out.
  • To implement better exercise habits – this one is due for failure because I swear it all the time and it never happens. This goal is for nothing other than vanitys sake; I hold little interest in how exercise can help my health, I just care about shedding a few kg.
  • To finish my building project – now that one CAN be a resolution! As I bloody well CAN measure it and I’ll be filthy if I haven’t achieved it. This is a project that should’ve been completed by now, and quite frankly it’s affecting my happiness and potentially life quality at this stage so I’m dead keen to do this. If I can achieve this one, it may well make implementing better exercise habits easier too. Triple word score.
  • To cut back on life’s little stresses and  relax. Anyone who has read this blog in its entirety knows I have a problem with spazz attacks and stress. I am in the process of palming off some of my commitments so that I can try to reign in the stress.
  • Learn to be happy again. By cutting back on my stress and participating in things I enjoy. And again, getting this building project completed will remove me from a certain amount of the negativity in my life. (I feel like I’m hanging a lot on this project…)
  • To cut back on a lot of the clutter in my life. I know this has come up in previous posts. I just have too much junkity junk. I’m taking a multi pronged attack to this goal – I’m hoping to sell some, box up some of it to opportunity shops, give some of it away and to simply use up some of it – people give me gift packs of scented products and I end up hoarding them because they smell too nice to use. Well. I’m gonna use them this year!
  • And most importantly? I just want to do the right thing FOR MYSELF, every opportunity I can. Instead of doing the right thing for everyone else.

Fingers crossed that 2012 works out successfully, and that I can look back on it come December 31st, and be happy with my life.

Assuming we’re all still alive. Aren’t they threatening some end of the world crap for December 22nd or something???

{November 20, 2011}   Post Secret

I like a website called Post Secret quite a lot. I check it every Sunday and almost without fail, find a secret of mine – sometimes one I didn’t even realise I had – on there, each and every week.

However I’ve never had one on there. I once posted one, but it was never published. Understandable, as Frank must get buttloads. But this fact, plus living in a small country town where the post office manager has a big mouth and is nosy, I’ve never sent any more.

Here’s my secret for today.

Nearly ever night, after eating a big meal I walk around outside in the dark and let my belly poke out and pretend I’m pregnant.

I don’t know if this is my dramatic side erupting, or it is some secret indication that I privately covet a baby…

{November 15, 2011}   Nature is Lifes Best Teacher.

Spring is the funniest time of year. Not ha ha funny, but just… thought-provoking, for me.

I spend a lot of time outside, where I can, at the best of times. Spring makes this easier, after the worst of the rain and cold and before the heat and risks that come with that. Standing outside right now, with the panoramic view around me, it just makes my brain rattle.

The thing with nature… it doesn’t care. It doesn’t care about anxiety, or death, or pain or hurt or fear. Equally, it doesn’t care about confidence, or birth, or happiness or acceptance or pleasure.

I love nature. I consider myself a nature child; happiest when outdoors, working under the sun, standing in the rain, bushwalking, photographing nature – you get the idea. So right now I’m really trying hard to absorb some of Mother Natures finest offerings – peace.

I want to lean into the inclement weather and know that after the shitstorm, there will again be warmth and sun. I want to sit back and let everything wash over me. I want to know that no matter what… it will bloom again.

The bees are buzzing, one of the most important hunter gatherers. Flowers are filling the air with their radiant perfume, leaves have unfurled, fruit flowers have blossomed, been pollinated and are now starting anew as tiny little potentials. The vegetable seeds have woken from dormancy, grown up tall and strong and are now starting on their final journey to adulthood. Life is simply progressing in the most beautiful fashion.

Right now, my life has stalled. I need to take a leaf from Nature’s book and learn to bloom again.

Strength to grow and radiate: so much harder to do than it should be.

{October 31, 2011}   What do you do?

What do you do when your ex orchestrates a situation to get you alone?

What do you do when he asks – very nicely (in fact in the same tone he asked for a kiss, the first time you kissed) – “Can I please have…?” as he comes at you with his arms open, to envelop you (without permission) in a big hug, and a kiss on the cheek (which was aimed lipwards, and missed due to the reciever deliberately turning her face).

What do you do when he says “I just need to feel a real woman”, as his hands quickly slide to the cheeks of your butt, pulling you towards him and crushing you together.

What do you do after taking hold of and removing his hands from your behind, telling him no and pushing away he repeats this another TWO times, the final time holding you to himself whilst you fling your arms outwards in sacrifice, loudly stating “I’M NOT ENCOURAGING THIS!” (his answer? “I know you’re not.”)

What do you do?

What do you do when he does all this immediately before telling you the only reason he’s still with his wife is it will cost him too much to leave her? What do you do when you know that really, by not slapping him and telling him to fuck off, you really ARE encouraging this? What do you do when deep down, this encounter made you feel good?

I need to tell him to fuck off. If he isn’t prepared to do the right thing, one of us should. But deep down, I’d be lying to myself if I said I’m not enjoying having the attention of a very charming man. Even if he is a sleazy player.

et cetera