Is It Me Or...

... is everything shit? I am not referring to the book but to my life.
Well, what can I say... it all started yesterday - at the gym of all places.
Perhaps it was simply not a good day, perhaps I was tired from a little too much too soon - I cannot quite say. Anyway, I found myself on the treadmill letting my eyes wander as you do and oh the envy, the desperation, the hopelessness. Whomever I looked at seemed super slim, super fit, in top form. Whilst I was never further from Greek Goddess and closer to red-faced chubbster.
So inevitably, I got myself really down, sort of went through the motions and went home, depleted, not elated.
On my way there I had visions of myself being alone forever, felt desperately in need of a hug and convinced myself that there was NEVER ANYONE there when I NEEDED THEM.
Also my life is crap, I am ugly, an underachiever, unfit and totally not on point where ambitions/plans for future are concerned.
I really worked myself into a state. And found that also I am fat and unlovable, a control freak, a weirdo, a bitter bitch, and basically all things nice.

In a brief moment of rationality I told myself this mood will not last. It will pass. Ride it out, tomorrow is another, a better day. That helped a little. However, I was also frustrated by that fact that I had these thoughts in the first place, that I was convinced of it all, however irrational.
And that is the funny thing, one part of you goes, calm down dear, it's not that bad, you are in fact quite alright, while the other goes into uber-sensitive loser of the year mode convinced that nothing, but NOTHING, is good (enough) in one's life, least of all oneself.

I'm a strong believer in the well known "This too shall pass" - because it always does. No day is the same, same goes for moods and ups and downs. I need to believe that otherwise I'd just hide from the world forever wishing for the end.

I cannot control the chemistry of my brain, but I try to cope with what it does to me.
Physical activity helps they say... I believe yesterday was a slip. Well it'd better be. Greek Goddess' patience is wearing thin anyway.

Still no six pack. We aren't impressed and think of stuffing our face every five minutes.

Life In A Box

First boxes are packed.
One set of curtains is being washed.
Had a good old clear-out..
All in all it's going well.

Bit of a sore back, though.

I must say I feel proud of myself and generally pleased with my life right now.
Because it needs to be considered that this is the first proper flat I am moving into all by myself. So far I have had what feels like 50 flat shares. I lived with girls and boys, just boys, just girls.
And now it's going to be just me. YAY ME!

I have weaned myself from "we" and have now reached a mostly healthy "me".

Ever noticed how one area of your life can be a metaphor for another?
My housing situation, my looming move, seem to mirror my personal life, i.e. I am clearing out and starting afresh. I am moving away from the past, from what has been. Sure enough I will be taking parts with me but mostly I will move on. That is the plan.

I have just been for a little walk and I have noticed - not for the first time, mind you - that ever since I've found that cosy little new place I have been saying goodbye to my neighbourhood. I cherish my morning walks to work, trying to memorise the houses, the trees, the shops, the quirks of this part of town. I trace and re-trace the routes, places and spaces that are soaked with memories of days gone by. That have silently witnessed brief moments of happiness, wonder and surprise, that have seen me in despair, without hope, that have felt my heart ache and that caught the tears. There are tiny pieces of me left here and there. Nothing big, nothing world-stopping, nothing extraordinary. Just a few years of my life, a handful of memories, the good, the bad, the ugly... that is how it is. And always.

It is good that I am moving on. It is time.

And it is Spring. I have been told that is when life starts over, full of hope, full of faith.

Could It Be Magic

Looked at flats.
One of them could be my new haven.
If all goes well...

A kindly friend picked me up to look at them together. All afternoon I had been super nervous.
It was like final exams all over again. Sweaty palms, palpitations, queasy feeling in stomach area, you name it.
But I made it. And as a result may have found a little flat for little moi.
Of course the nerves had totally obliterated my ability to think rationally and clearly. Common sense was conspicuously absent, too. Thus, all I managed was to squeak out questions in between gasps of delight and wonder. Not necessarily the right kind of questions, the ones any sane person would come up with. Like what about the deposit, what about the estate agent's fee? The list goes on, believe me.
Hey, cut me some slack!
I viewed a newly refurbished decent-sized flat with a big kitchen, a PROPER bathroom and CENTRAL heating! I have been living on a building site the past couple of months http://somethingstartsnow.blogspot.com/2011/12/war-zone-and-fa-la-la-la-la-la-freakin.html ? Not to mention: http://somethingstartsnow.blogspot.com/2012/02/winter-of-my-discontent.html !
I COULD NOT HELP MYSELF!
It was a bit like leaving the Cookie Monster unsupervised. In a shop. With cookie jars. Full of delicious, still warm chocolate chip cookies. And the chocolaty bits are sticky and soft and ... alright, you get the idea.

Anyway, all I am saying is:
Fingers crossed!
And even though the Void does not have fingers, forget about opposible thumbs, I would like to think that IT does IT's special magic-y thing to help me out.
All in the name of the greater benefit of the universe, of course.
Haven't you heard - happy me, happy u-niverse.
It's that simple.

No, really - I would love for this to go right. REALLY VERY MUCH (and, yes I know I am using a LOT of capitals today. It's just to show just how important this is to me, in case it had slipped anyone's notice).

And if you can be grateful in advance, then I am herewith.
VERY!
Cooper, watch out!

That Thing Called Hope

I remember it very cleary. I know for sure that they said, hope never dies.
I hope I'm not wrong. (Get it?)

What if I simply misheard that. What if we all did...?!

I thought it would be fun to ponder for a minute - on the last day of the year, naturally - what if nothing really changed or changes AT ALL. (I am now starting to think in the direction of 'bad idea' and 'Fun... not so much!')

What if what I thought was change was just a minor glitch, a minor de-tour in my hum-drum life to trick me into thinking I have what they call glitz and glamour in my life. Alright, not so much that but rather direction and purpose?

Remember:   http://somethingstartsnow.blogspot.com/2011/11/coming-through.html

How come then that I feel rather deflated and - I know I should not say it - frustrated.
How come that what was good a mere 3 and a half weeks ago now seems jaded pleasures?

Sorry, I am out of answers, out of silly things to write, out of neuroticisms and dizzy tales.
And I certainly do not want to spread gloom.

So, here's to hoping and wishing!

Happy New Year to all and sundry

Coming Through

I got a call this morning.

At precisely 9.02. And it was good news, indeed.  Such news that mean change. Good change.

Since then I have talked to friends who have reminded me how far I have come in the past months and how this makes for a wonderful ending of the old year.

Only now I begin to think back what has gone before, what evidently needed to happen to allow for this.

It sounds banal. People often say that things happen for a reason, that all will work out in the end. While being in the middle of it one seldom believes such utterings and disregards them as just that: “what people say”, when nothing else can be done, when all (else) has failed.

But in retrospect it makes sense, as everything tends to do with hindsight. They don’t say hindsight was 20:20 for nothing.

Once you have a result, the way you got there seems blatantly obvious. And you even argue that you could not have done it without the hardship. But growth apparently is only ever achieved within the vicinity of shit. And shit happens all the time, so no worries about shortages there. It’s a bit like with plants, I guess. Without manure, no harvest.

That certainly was true for this year. Manure galore. In a steady stream.

However, the end justifies the means.

Along the way, things shifted, the world has seemingly changed. Or have I?

I believe it’s a bit of both. 

Towards Brighter Things Via Brussels

There is something splendid about travelling early in the morning. Something that makes you feel like you're a god. Alright, a minor one. 

At so many moments in life mankind feels overwhelmed and lonely, and cut off. Early mornings however, seem to have quite the opposite effect. At least on me.

There is joy and hope. There is being-overwhelmed, too - but for different reasons. It feels a little like all was here simply for me to see, for my profound pleasure, for my wonder and awe.

Is that why they call it a miracle? The miracle of another dawn, another day - the grace of a fresh start?

And indeed it is, isn't it?

There it comes, that new day, utterly unspoilt.

(Am I beginning to sound like some born-again something or other? FYI: No, I have not joined a cult.)

Still, there is magic in the moment when the first sunlight hits the earth.

A silent, gradual march on darkness and without fail light always prevails. Which is reassuring and can, if you are that way inclined, give you that proverbial ounce of hope.

I am indeed travelling. With Deutsche Bahn. At this precise moment this fact does not lessen the pleasure of my witnessing the sun coming up. At the butt crack of dawn (as Kathy Griffin phrased it so aptly) I rolled out of bed and onto the train - not in one continuous motion, mind, but the smoothness of it all was spectacular. I am sure it had to do with the fact that I am going on a sort of mini-break to Brussels and that it is so damned early that everyone else is turning around in their beds one more time.

Still I cannot quite help but wonder where the Dickens this dawn/hope babble is coming from?

Granted, I love travelling early in the morning. Granted too, that I love going to Brussels. And granted finally that the sun rise is a beautiful thing and usually does get anyone who gets up early enough into a bit of a state of bliss. That is if you genuinely care for such things as birds beginning to stir, the mist rising slowly off the earth, the heavens turning from grey to a soft pink etc.

I admit I am in holiday-mode, thus, in high spirits. This week away is sorely needed after what seems an eternity of gloom and depression.

So, I may be forgiven if I feel like "a change is gonna come". But then that tends to freak people out, including me. Of late I have become more than a bit apprehensive of change.

But today - with this glorious day just beginning - I am willing to lift my head a little bit higher than usual and actually take a peak at what life may have in store. I am in dire need of practice, I'll admit readily. You get like that after a shit storm has rained down on you and caused a substantial change in your view on life and yourself. That is just a fact and I wish to God I was one of those people who after they have fallen get up again and carry on regardless. Nope, not me. Once I am down it takes me a while. Hell, it took a lot of work to get me so low. Might as well make the most of it.

Wallowing? Who me? Occasionally one resorts to that kind of behaviour, I admit. However, this time it was just difficult to simply pretend nothing had happened. Also I had misplaced that brush I usually dust myself off with after major and minor mishaps.

Is it possible that this week in Brussels will set me off to a good start? Like it has done in the past? Yes, Brussels does that to me sometimes. Thus happened in 2004 before my first big final exams at uni.

So if I have any say in this change that seems to be a-coming then I’d like this week to be the Auftakt, the prelude.

(I like how I am not convinced that I could have a choice in this and that I seem to believe that change is an event that is coming at us from the outside exclusively. At this point I wish very much to set myself straight once and for all: here, change is a) not an event and b) happens within you, too. It’s a bloody process, it’s gradual, get it?!?! Alright, I do not hesitate to add: Well at least usually.)

I blame it on the early hour and my destination but I cannot deny that I feel a rising conviction, ok now that is a tad too strong. No, I feel hope and I have faith that at least some of the dark will go, will be chased away and there will be more clarity, more assurance and confidence. I actually went to sleep last night with that exact thought of hope in my head. I take that as a sign.

Perhaps it works this thinking positive things and surrounding myself with positivity. Let us see, shall we.