Kind

Why can't we just be kind ?
Earlier this year there was a Be Kind movement, following the sad death of a celebrity by suicide. On the run up to her death she had been ridiculed and bullied mercilessly in social media and the press. People were campaigned for change, signed petitions, and shared posts calling for change. Yet a few months later, that seems have disappeared again, with yet again someone in the public eye, being made fun of on social media. People critizing policitians, their decisions or those supporting that decision or person.
Most recently theres been the "lockdown breakers" and "lockdown enforcers" , criticising those who have chosen to break the lockdown rules and those who have taken in upon themselves to police the rules, openly verbally attacking people, they believe have broken social distancing rules.
Following the sad and unjust death of a man in America, and the media reporting as an racist issue , as it was a white police officer that took the life of a black man. Personally a white guy killing a black guy or vice versa is not racist unless there is a racial motive, now I dont know what was in the mind of that police officer, so i'm not going to comment on the race row.  For me anyone dying at the hands of another is a tragedy, and even worse is if that person was someone whose job it is, as they say in America to "serve and protect".
Following the reports, protests started, and as a result of what was probably a minority these have turned violent, this is turn has created more news, more outrage and more upset. Rioting, looting, vandalism, assults (both a poeple and animals (police horses in london)) and even deaths.
Saldy what started out as peaceful protests, went from a way of trying to make a change to something that shared only hate, which in turn has created more hate, more arguements and more distress.

No real positive change can come from events like this when they take this turn.

But what if instead of protesting, instead of standing with a sign, sharing a black space or a #, people actually lived their lives with the change in mind they want, treating each and every person with kindness and respect no matter who they are, where they are from, who they love, or the colour of their skin.
Instead of sharing hate, sharing love.

Instead of sharing a # or post condeming something or someone,  you treat the next person you see with respect, letting someone a head of you in a queue, or sharing a smile, imagine the difference you could really make.

I remeber a quote from a victim of the Boston marathon bombing, " 2 people took weeks to plan out hate, but love responded in an instant" we may not be able to stop hate, but how we respond to it, is how we can really make a difference. The love shone to those victims far outweighed the hate of those bombers.

Sharing posts even as a way of saying its wrong and shouldnt happen, still shares it, no matter what you say, the image of hate is still being spread.

What if instead of sharing a post or commenting on a post with anger and condemnation, just because its different to your beliefs, you simply ignored that post, reported to the social media moderator, or unfollowed or even unfriended whoever shared it. By doing this the hate stops with that person/post.

I'm not saying we should ignore those injustices that happen in the world, but there must be a better way then sharing a image of hate with words to match.

Why can't we be kind?

Flood

There are those things in life you think and hope will never happen to you, whether it is where you live, the choices you make or clear denial, we all do it at some point.
For me one of those things I never though could happen to me, was a flood, I have lived in this village my whole life, always on a hill. My little sanctuary , my own little home, was even higher up the hill (mountain) than my family home. There's a waterfall in the village at the bottom and that has flooded, but I was on the side of a mountain, next to a quarry, I could never be flooded. You watch footage of floods on the news, and you can't imagine what those people are going though and what you do imagine, is bad enough, but isn't close to reality, as I now know.
Back on the 12th June, I followed the local news, and worried about being able to get home, and whether others I knew would be ok, as roads were flooded all around, weeks of heavy rain had resulted in flooding in our area. People were sand bagging at the bottom of my village around the waterfall as it was overflowing in some parts, and I even gasped in horror when I saw someone from the lower part of the village had water coming in their home. I left work a little early to be sure I would be able to get home ok, due to the road closures we'd already heard about. The roads were relatively quiet and I hit no closed roads, what a relief, as I past the front of my house I thought the footpath outside and the wall looked wet, so I thought the ground water had come up a little and was simply draining under the house ("hope it doesn't cause damp" I thought to myself) I arrived home and entered my back porch, to be met by water in my porch, water only an inch at the most filled my back porch, I looked through my back kitchen window wondering if the water from the porch had got into my kitchen and saw little wet paw prints, gutted the water had got under the door, "hope it hasn't gone too far" I thought to myself as I let myself in the back door and stepped into my house.


I don't think anything could of prepared me for what I saw next and as I stepped further in, the horror hit me, my house was flooded, my living room was full of water ! things were floating, the electrics were sparking, and my poor little Button was scared and sheltering on my sofa.
In those first few moments I cant remember what I was thinking, but I know, I was in a panic and wasn't breathing (well maybe a little)
I was standing in water in my kitchen looking into a flooded living room, my window was steamed up and the sound of the fizzing and crackling electrics was terrifying. I'm not sure when I started to cry, but as I rang my dad, I was sobbing. "what's wrong?" "have you called your mum?" "i'm on the way" a few bits I remember from my conversation with my dad, as through tears and shock I tried to tell him what was wrong, followed was a similar conversation with my mum, and as I waited for help, I phoned my work, as it was ten to five and I could let them know I would probably be late the next day! (probably one of those moments when your brain starts trying to fix things).
I can remember my mum arriving and insisting on turning off the electrics, which meant going in the water to reach it, and making her wear my wellies so she didn't get wet feet, rescuing Button, my dad arriving, texting my sister to let her know what happened and I wouldn't be able to come to help with the horses, and them all trying to help me, fishing things from the water, rescuing what we could, all the while, I was struggling to stay calm, just trying to breathe. Its going to be ok, was said over and over but I couldn't see how that would ever be true.
My little safe haven, my hiding place from the world and my own mind, was ruined, it was gone, my little piece of sanctuary, had been washed away. Ruined like a piece of pottery that's broken and glued back together, its nice even beautiful, but will never be as it was, and even if the decorators do the most amazing job, it wont ever be what it was for me.


Its almost 10 weeks, and I still cannot think of it without tears, part of the reason writing this has taken so long.
Its not just the initial shock and upset, while the water is there, its each step you take after, from the first thing of ripping the carpet up, to sorting through to see what belongings can be saved, to the builders coming to see what needs doing, the fact that things get worse as you go along, as more stuff has to be ripped out.
Watching them take away my furniture, was heart-breaking, they were items I had bought when I moved in and some I had bought while still living with my parents that I'd moved with, they were only material objects , but they each had a meaning or memory. Another hard day was the day the drying out started, something I'd waited 4 weeks for, and been so excited about , delayed because they found asbestos (lucky me) and having to have it removed, yet watching them remove wallpaper and some of the last pieces of skirting boards, broke me all over again, yet more of my little hidey hole was being damaged or taken from me. After 4 long weeks, of noisy machines, and extreme heat (well for my house) it was dry, yay, but a few days later, I found a favourite book that I thought had escaped, undamaged, was damaged beyond saving, another really hard blow, it was only a book, and a book I hadn't read in a while, but it was another symbol, another part of me, gone.
As much as I feel lonely a lot of the time, being on my own in my little house, curled up on the sofa, was my safe place, I could escape the world, and my own intrusive thoughts, I could cry my heart out, or ignore the thoughts and sadness, it didn't matter, either way, my house (and sofa, cushions and duvet) didn't judge, didn't have an opinion and didn't try to help. It was my last comfort blanket I had left and was taken from me in an instant.
When I go to my house, it feels like my house, but doesn't at the same time, the living room is basically a shell, empty with only the quarry tiles on the floor, bits of wallpaper and my curtains over the window that looks out on the road.
Everything that made it my home and safe, quiet zone, gone.
I'll get it back and it will look ace, I'll make sure of that, but how long it takes to be my safe place again I don't know.
Being able to curl up in my living room, is something I cant wait for, its lovely being home with my parents and am so lucky I can have this time with them, but I know for me to get the most of it, I have to have that quiet time , that lets my mind and soul heal a little and relax.
I'm so lucky I didn't lose more in the flood water, and I am so thankful for that.

Brave Pants

Losing my India my best (horse) friend, was incredibly tough, but there was an upside. It meant I was no longer paying rent or any of the expenses associated with owning a horse, which is turn allowed me to actually do some more riding. A little spare money at the each month meant I could afford to have a couple of riding lessons. 
It has been amazing getting back on a horse and being able to ride again, and it not feeling as scary as I thought it might. Being someone that always faced fears and had to fight nerves, I wondered if they would still effect me, whether in the same way or a different worse way. But my first lesson felt easy no sign of any nerves (other than the “its my first lesson in 8-10 years” nerves) , and getting compliments on my seat and ability in the saddle also went a long way to making this first lesson a big success for me. The following lesson again followed that same trend, with more compliments and some encouragement that I would soon be defeat, the biggest hurdle and fear (we’ll get to that bit).
I knew getting back to riding would probably mean facing and dealing with my 2 aim fears, (i) not being fully in control and (ii) jumping.
Thankfully I am now in a position to ride more often as my sister is allowing me to ride her horse, as she has a new horse to ride. 
The first few rides went well, there were probably nerves there but not really noticeable, even when I fell from the new horse, other than being rattled, I was able to get straight back on and ride. 
The more time spent on the horses, the more comfortable I am getting, which is how I can see there were some under the surface nerves.
So I decided it was time to grab my Brave Pants and wear them to ride ! and decided I was going to attempt some pole work and see how it felt. It was a last minute decision, but think that was the best way to go about it. I wanted to try it so i did.
I should probably explain the “big hurdle” now. About 8 years ago, when I was last riding before I retired India, I lost all my nerve when it came to jumping, I couldn’t even canter over a pole on the floor, I would pull out of jumps and poles on the floor, in panic, without being able to control my hand/arms, my subconscious was in control and I had no way of escaping, even trying to close my eyes didn’t work ! the only way to not pull on the reins would have been to not have any, which wasn’t going to happen (the other hurdle of being terrified of losing control)
I just decided that it was best to give up that aspect at the time, as it was only going to get worse.
But now I was ready to fight that again, I decided that it would be fine as my subconscious would have forgotten all about being scared and not get in the way this time.

So I announced to my sister I wanted to get over some poles even it was only in trot I was doing it, I pulled on my brave pants up and off I went, Moo, my sisters horse was brilliant and looked after me and we even managed to canter over the poles. I literally could have cried with happiness. This was a huge result and achievement for me.
I decided I wasn’t taking my brave pants off for anyone ! now I had managed the poles there was going to be no stopped me. 
Next was repeating the poles on the floor and then we added a cross pole, jumping from a trot but I was jumping, next I attempted to head at a jump in canter ! nerves got the better of me and I pulled out, but with help from my sister we went back to the canter pole and then slowly built it up to the size it was, it was small but it was a jump and I was going in canter. 😊
My Brave pants are now my favourite things, they may be metaphorical, but they are there and I’m keeping them. 
I’m taking it in small steps and setting goals, and I’m making the most of every moment, and celebrating every accomplishment.

comfort blankets

I've recently lost a few of my "comfort blankets/ safety nets", before losing them I was aware of them, 2 more so than the other.
The first was my Zumba, from when I first started attending classes it was a stress relief, an escape, the music and dancing freed me from doubts and worries, nervous tension was released. It was my coping mechanism for so many aspects. It also became something that grew my confidence and helped me overcome some of my self consciousness, generally this only extended to the classes, but it meant I was able to complete my Instructor course and get my licence, which lead on to eventually running my own classes.
Sadly after almost 2 years the class numbers dropped, it became more stress than a relief and the low numbers affected my self confidence. The low numbers moved my comfort blanket just enough to release some of my demons, reminding me I wasn't good enough. It became that it was doing more harm than good, so I had to decide to stop the classes, in the end it wasn't as hard a decision as I thought it would be, as it came as a relief in a way.
Once they had finished I no longer had that "comfort blanket" or safety net, to keep the stresses away and the inner demons ran free, playing on all my insecurities and doubts. See "you aren't good enough after all" your a failure, not likeable enough, you were wrong you weren't good at it and didn't do a good enough job. If I couldn't even make something I was passionate about work, then I was good enough to do anything,
In the following week, it became evident that my best friend for the last 18 years, my baby, my beautiful horse India wasn't doing so well. Her age had caught up to her, and after a few months of good and bad days, it was finally time to say goodbye. Even through she wasn't feeling great, she was still there for me, her unconditional love was something that never faltered. She loved the fuss and treats. Knowing it was my responsibility to care for her and deciding it was time to say goodbye , is one of the hardest and easiest decisions I've had to make, as I knew she wasn't well, and I could make sure she would no longer suffer, and prevent her from suffering as she continued to deteriorate.
It was far harder to make the arrangements and wait for it to happen then actually making the decision. Also the fact that I was losing my best friend , the constant, one "person" I could truly count on, was physically painful. No matter what she was there for me, no matter the day, time, weather... she was there, I could stand there in floods of tears and she would just stand with me, there was never any judgement she never gave advice, or shared her point of view, it was unquestioning love and support.
I was left feeling broken, there was a piece of me missing, there was a hole that couldn't be filled. A 18 year relationship gone, and suddenly after over 20 years, I didn't have a horse to look after, I didn't have to go to check on her, my days had been structured around horses for so long, that I was lost.   After only 2 weeks another comfort blanket was gone.
Within a few days, my 3rd and not so obvious safety net was removed. I've always been uncomfortable in crowds and having people behind me, even at home with my family I always had to sit with my back to the wall while at the dinner table. I have also become aware of a level of social anxiety I have developed.
Comfort blanket 3 was where I sat in work , now to some this would seem like no big deal, but where I sat was a "safe" zone for me, in a corner, away from the busiest area of the office. It meant I could cope with the day to stress of work. So when I was told I had to move to another desk, which position was the worst possible place for me to sit, I was terrified. Not only was I being moved to the most uncomfortable position I could of been moved to, it was following the loss of my 2 of my comfort blankets, I had no safety net to catch me and I falling.
The anxiety of having to sit where I was being told I had to sit despite discussing with my manager on multiple occasions how hard a move would be for me and telling her again once the move was announced, was unbearable. I never knew I had this level of anxiety, and had no idea how to cope.
Somehow I survived the first few days, I left work early and spent as much time away from my desk as possible, also as when I lost my first 2 comfort blankets, I cried and I cried a lot. I sort help from people, avoided thinking about any of it, and just kept trying to put one foot in front of the other.
This last few weeks have been tough, really tough but I am now moving closer to feeling better, and even without India, horses are still a big part of my life and I am always going to have them in my life and I will continue to dance, not Zumba but dance.

Walls

Walls, they are everywhere, I'm surrounded by them, both physical and mental. Some that I've built myself, others that are built by others.
The physical ones are usually there to keep you safe from something, to keep you warm, dry, protect your possessions or land, or to keep the bad things away. Some are built to segregate people or races. Both in the past and present walls are built to separate people usually for the gain of the few, without it mattering what the cost to those separated is.


Many walls are built by fear, both real and presumed danger, caused by facts, beliefs, experiences and words. We have an inbuilt part of us that is there to keep us safe, which in the past kept us alive, but now the dangers have changed, yet that part of our brain still exists and wants to do its job.


I haven't done much physical wall building, though I have done a little tiny bit. I do have some mighty mental ones, high and thick, totally impregnable. I don't remember building them or being aware of them going up, but they are there keeping me safe. I am aware of them almost all the time. They hide some of the bad stuff, that I don't want to think about, too keep them from causing more pain, but the walls also create their own pain, they keep people away, they keep me shut down and unable to open myself even the smallest amount. They block out the light and air, they cause constant questions and doubt, they create fear. This constant doubt and fear cause me to avoid situations, knowing I wont open up or talk, which means i'll be uncomfortable,  feeling silly for having nothing to say and even worrying someone will try to talk to me, the wall is there blocking any thoughts from forming or even reaching my lips.


My walls also have guards, they warn against lowering the walls, as if I speak, share or spend time with people the will see the emptiness I have inside, that I have nothing to offer, that I'm a "loser", different, and weird. They'll see there's not much to like. Exposing people to that inner me will make them leave and i'll be even more alone.
If people are there but not too close, I wont be totally alone, I know I cant live like that, because i'll end up hurting myself and others, (I already am) but I don't know how to be any different, the very rare occasion the walls have been breached a little and I've tried to put my trust in someone, I've been hurt, which has only made the walls stronger and thicker.


Some places have moats outside of the walls for added protection, I think mine are on the inside, and I think I may be lost in between the wall and moat, as i'm not sure I really know myself, or who I really am, I cant let someone see the "real" me as I don't know I know who that is or if I'd like that person. I've been told how strong I am but I don't know what it is they see , other than the walls I've built , that are sometimes the only thing that keeps me standing.

I don't want to have mental walls surrounding me and keeping me away from people, but i didn't choose to build them, and i don't know where the weak point is, but once i find it and figure out a way to pull them down, i'll be free of them.

dream over

I'm completely lost and want to cry all the time, I knew it was time and important for me to make the change I've just made for several reasons, but it hurts so much, all I can do is work really hard on thinking about anything else but that.
When I first discovered Zumba I never thought it would have such a huge impact on me, change so much and help be discover a side of me I didn't know existed.
I went from painfully shy and self conscious , not being able to speak in front of only 3 people, and basically having no life outside of work, to eventually running my very own Zumba classes, I was able to dance, be silly and even sing along at the top of my voice, on my little stage in my venue. I never believed I would be able to do any of that , I dreamed and wished for it, without much hope of it coming true, but dream I did.


I fought and fought to teach, challenged myself and never gave in. After ups and some horrible downs, and a few twists and turns. I found myself in a position where it was just about achievable, with encouragement of friends and family, and a new found strength, I set up and started Fearless Limitless Fitness !
It was ace from the first class, and it continued and I continued to grow in confidence and ability. I achieved my dream of teaching my own class, and it was a amazing, but I still had obstacle's to climb and things to fight through, demons from my past, older ones and more recent ones as well as the longstanding issues of shyness, self consciousness, and low self esteem.
But I wasn't going to let that stop me, I was living a dream come true, and flourishing in that, the longer the classes went on, the better the atmosphere got and the better I got as my confidence rose, and my shyness and self-consciousness shrank.
I would catch myself doing something I never thought (only dreamed of), I could do. There were those classes , songs or moments when I could of cried from pure happiness, beaming and glowing from joy ! in those moments I realised I had achieved everything I had dreamed of maybe even more.
Even on hard days, once the class started I was flying high, strong and confident.
It meant the world to me, to be able to call myself a Zumba Instructor and say I ran my own class, after so many let downs, challenges and failures in my past, I had finally achieved something, found something I might actually be good at.
For over eighteen months the class was brilliant, there were quiet times, but always a good turn out, last summer I got my best class numbers ever, which is when I had to start using the stage in my venue, as I needed the space !
But lately the numbers haven't been so good, I started having to cancel classes as I wasn't covering the cost of the room hire, I made changes to try and increase numbers and worked harder to make the classes better but for whatever the reason they didn't increase, and even dropped more.
I was devastated a few weeks ago after cancelling yet another class, I cried and cried, I was heartbroken, this thing I had worked so hard for and dreamed of was no longer there, it had got me through so many bad and stressful times, but now it was causing me pain and stress worrying I wasn't good enough and that people didn't like me, and just worrying if anyone would turn up.
I think I became tired, tired of the anxiety, and stress, exhausted of setting up and then taking the equipment down again, because no one came or only a couple came so I wasn't covering my costs.
I realised recently something in me had changed and I realised it was doing me more harm than good, or maybe my heart and head were finally on the same page, that my heart finally knew what my head had been saying, but I realised it was time to stop. I thought at first to just stop one class, but once I realised that it was happening and I couldn't do it anymore, I realised I had to stop altogether as I couldn't afford to run just the one class.
I knew it was going to be hard to let go of something that meant so much to me, the change of routine, the drop in my exercise amounts, the time I would spend looking for music and routines, planning and creating routines and playlist and the beautiful people I spent time with. I know the time was right and it needed to happen, but the pain is worse than I thought it would be, the sense of loss and fighting so hard to not let the thoughts in that it was me or my fault people didn't come, that I just wasn't good enough.
I cant think about it without getting upset, once the tears start they come hard, I fight to catch my breath, pain rushes up on me, shaking all I can do is try to breathe. To some it was just a hobby or something I did but for me it was so much more, it was proof I could do something , it was life changing and a dream come true.
That dream is now in the past, and what I have to remember is that even now its ended, it still happened, I got to do, what not everyone gets to do, I got to not only achieve a dream , but I got to live it.
I have more dreams we all do, whether we admit them or not. What's next I don't know or care at the moment, but i'll be taking the strength and sense of achievement I got from Zumba and teaching with me wherever I go.

Not again

Been having another wobble again lately, its gone from finally feeling and thinking that maybe just maybe I was getting better and could book an appointment with my GP to discuss reducing my antidepressants to feeing lost, low and tearful. We all have down days, whether we struggle with a mental health problem or not, they are a normal part of life and for me I know how those feel and how best to cope with them and recover if needed. However this isn't one of those days, its several days of down and not so down, to very down.
Its caught me out and come as a shock to be not ok again, its ok not to be ok, but its shocked me.
I've also noticed a big drop in confidence, my inner self esteem as well as my day to day confidence in myself. Something happened a couple of months ago that showed me my inner self confidence wasn't good, its something I hide from as I don't think about that stuff because it pulls me down and hurts too much. Running away and hiding from it, isn't a solution, but until then I thought things were getting better.
Depression has a habit of lying to you, and one of those lies, is "your not good enough" and other such things, so that could be a cause of my lower confidence but for me there's always been a link between my low confidence causing my lower mood. They can go hand in had, so it can be difficult to tell.
There's also the medical side of things, (my naughty thyroid) which I am aware of, and I will be checking.


One of the main thoughts that I have that fuels these feelings is the reply that comes to mind when someone says something positive. Its the one sentence that I cannot get past or find a way though or a way to deal with.
I know that depression lies to you and I often tell people that, but when its in my own head, those things are stronger and either my depression has found ways to combat the good or maybe its just something in me.


That sentence/ thought is "if that's true, why am I still …." and its almost always backed up with "x y z..... proves your right, thinking that" , in that past experiences prove whatever the negative is.
for example, If I'm such a nice/good person, then why am I alone ? You've never had many friends, so it must be something wrong with me.
I try to tell myself, that if I can accept things as they are, then it wont hurt so much. If I can accept that I'm always going to be alone, it wont hurt as much to be alone. If I accept that I'll never find love it wont hurt when I stay single. I mustn't of accepted these things yet, as I know I still hope for it and hope and dream of better things to come, but sometimes I do wish I didn't cause some of that pain wouldn't be there anymore.


I want to understand why I feel down or how its happened again, but part of me also just wants it to stop, wants to just feel better. I'm over it now, I'm fed up of these feelings, the exhaustion, tiredness and the constant fight.
I want to find a way through this and be better, find the strength to get past my worries and feelings, even just being able to accept those things that get me down.


Whatever the cause or reason, its happened again and I have to find a way.