Failure

It's a heavy word isn't it. Failure weighs on us all. It weighs so hard on me that it creeps into every new thing before it has begun. I'm afraid that fear of failure might be a more powerful motivator than hope of success. I'm not scared of failing, I have already failed, failure is already branded across my interests, my education, ocupation, my body and mind. I am already trapped in a cage of failure and the shame of it, and when I try, I try because I need to escape it somehow. But taking risks, trying things, these are the surest way to more failure. I don't believe that if you don't try then you've already failed, but I do believe that trying is important, despite the risk of failure, I believe it is the better option. When I started writing I was doing so for myself, I made books for myself and I was happy doing it but I wanted to share them, I wanted to prove that I was worth something. Now I have been encouraged and bolstered, I have been told I could use what I have made, I have been told that it could become a career, an occupation, a small hoped that I might use it to drag myself out of this pit of failure I feel I am living in. People were kind, I am still glad of that. Then I went away, I don't know if it made a difference or whether the weight of all that hope and expectation put a spanner in the works but now I have been home weeks and I cannot draw, I have a traditional art block, it is like someone has frozen my hand and only words flow from it, never pictures. All those words waiting for their pictures, you know I would have to write a thousand of them just to break even. I am back to square one and the anxiety of not achieving what I had hoped I would, and the weight of the failure yet again has made me too heavy to drag myself in to school, yet more failure. I have become a ball of self loathing and pity, a tangled, knotted mess of contempt, a mocking, sneering bully. "Thought you'd amount to something eh? You're hopeless and you will always be broken, stay down, don't get back up, you're defective, you failed again". 

Each day goes by and I wish that what I've already got was enough for me to be one of those fuctional, worthy members of society, but we live in a Jeremy Kyle culture and I cannot unhear the things that define me, the way society sees my sort, the truths about who I am. 

So, these are my ponderings on failure, this is where I am post-travel, I don't want placation, I am venting, pouring out the reality I am living due to my perception, it cannot be changed but with time and perhaps validation. I'm sorry it's so negative, not for you, for me, I wish I was happer for me, not so I could write cheery blogs about birdsong and gardening and lemonade. 

The most useful thing anyone can do is hand me some knowledge that I might find my way out. 

My time in Sydney.

The last few days I have done the following: 

- Taronga zoo

- Cinema to see Zootopia 

- Got very wet

- Walked quite a lot

- World's worst cat cafe

- N2 (liquid nitrogen) ice cream

- Met up with my friend Luke

- Bough my teaware (expect photos) 

I think that's it, I've not done everything I'd planned to, but it rained quite a lot and I sort of kept running out of time. 

I'm not happy, I'm surviving, that is my goal, just to get through it all. Sometimes something is nice, like the sun today, but I'm quite focused on getting home now and that's my right, to feel that way. I don't have to like everything, I can hate the whole holiday if I want and not learn a single lesson from it to boot. But that's not the case, I am growing a lot as this is a challenge and it takes a lot of skills to negotiate it emotionally, so it has great value, but I don't know if I'll return to Sydney, at least not for simple enjoyment.

I do have a day and a half left though and I'm certainly still open minded about enjoying myself.  

The blog that went rogue

Below is the post I wrote the other day, I think my second day in Sydney. I wanted to talk about two issues and they kept muddling together and I felt like this emotional ramble (because that's sort of what it is) lacks the economical use of words that I usually make my priority. I don't want my message to get lost in a wall of text, usually I only ever say as much as I believe is needed. 

Well, don't say I didn't warn you...

-------------------

Life isn't simple. We all know it can be hard, but it can also be complicated and there's not always a simple answer when we try to work things out or make decisions. Four years ago I went across the world and I fell in love, I know it was love, because the moment I left Wellington that first time, I knew I had to go back, so I abandoned my other travel plans, lost about £200 on accomodation and went back to Wellington. That's a little thing, a very little thing. To me it's a big thing, it's red lights big, it's alarm bells big. I don't just change plans, I don't deviate, I'm brittle with focus, I don't adapt, there is only ever one way. But, love has a funny way of inciting change, forcing us to choose another path when we find something we can't live without. 

If I tried to tell you the horrors that I contain in my mind, every day, you might not be surprised, I suspect a lot of people suffer far more than they let on to others, but if I were to tell you out loud the feelings I go through and the thoughts I have, they might seem alarming. When people know how much I stuggle to travel, how distressing every single day can be, they always seem to come back to the same, near incomprehensible, questions: Why? How? 

How is simple, I've said it before and I'll say it again, when you're scared all the time anyway, you might as well do something worth doing. (That sounds more like the why, but it's not) Put simply, how I manage is the same way I manage every day, and maybe that's a post for another time, but when you go through it all the time, you learn skills, sometimes they work, sometimes they don't, but you use them and that's how. 

But why? That's not so simple to explain. I suffer most days, I have abracelet that   reads "I am half agony, half hope", it is a quote from persuasion, I'd actually say it's more 70/30 myself. My whole life is one tumultuous internal struggle, and perhaps agony is the word that best describes the feelings. Fear battles excitement, isolation pushes against the need for space, bordom wrestles with a desire for inner calm. I have desperate feelings of loss and grief with no cause, I feel alone, I feel sad, I feel ashamed. 

With that in mind I feel I have two options, resignation; I could just give up, I could live with things as they are, or I could try to look for answers, try to change, learn, grow, discover, solve. 

So when I travel, it's really because all that fear and angst, all those tenuous moments and difficulties are better than the alternative, which is just to live with the agony every day for the rest of my life, and that's not something I can explain easily. 

I miss wellington, I miss it desperately, I feel such loss at leaving and I wonder why ever I thought I should travel anywhere else, why I didn't stay put there. On one hand I know, but on the other I still can't make sense of why I left. I love wellington, it is honestly my favourite place in the world, I have been four times now and I already wish to go back there. When I have spoken to people here, the same question has come up time and time again; why haven't you moved here? 

I honestly don't know, that complexity I was talking about, this is it, I can't work out why I keep visiting but I haven't moved, up until now I didn't even realise that wasn't 'normal', and I keep asking myself but I don't know. I don't care if it's 'normal' but if has brought up some questions. It's something I'm going to have to reflect on, I guess I don't know much about love. 

Liberation

So Wellington is behind me now and I had a realisation when I woke up this morning in Rotorua not feeling my best, now I'm free to feel miserable! It's amazing how liberating it feels knowing I don't have to have a good time anymore! Now don't get me wrong, out of the two options, I'd prefer to enjoy myself, but when I was in Wellington it was imperative that I have an amazing time and learn and grow etc, etc, but now I just have to cope, to survive, to make the best of things because any good experience is a bonus now, not a prerequisite. I have not visited these places before, or I have, and I've not been a huge fan, so I guess now I just try my best and get on with this travel malarky in the hopes that I have a fun, that I learn, that I embrace it, but if I don't, I always had Wellington. 

Ps. Too anxious to go out, the rain has made the sulphur sulphurous and given me a headache, so I have drank tea, played video games, read and accepted it. Maybe I'll get out later, maybe I won't, maybe I'll miss out because I didn't try hard enough, I'll never know what could have been if I was a different person. 

Here's a photo of Lake Taupo, which  seems like an ocean to me. 

Update: I took advantage of having the house to myself and took a shower, washed and dried hair etc, I got out at 3.25, walked to the redwoods but there were too many tourists and I was too tired to walk into town. I was okay with this, until I got home and the other guest accused me of having been "on mobile all day" at which I crumbled and spent about an hour sobbing, you win some, you lose some but under no circumstances should I have to explain or justify what I do to strangers, especially when I had actually used my phone very little. I am now regretting telling him "No I wasn't, I've been out." and wishing I'd told him to "F*ck right off and mind his own." but like I said earlier, I'll never know what could have been if I was a different person. 

Overcoming

So yesterday after my blog post, I started to plan in my mind what I would do, I started to try to compute all options I had for things to do, cross reference them by number of days here and again by weather, tried to work out which things were close enough to do in one day and which things would take a day in themselves, which were most worthwhile, which cost more, which things would lead to other possible opportunities, which... My brain had crashed. Like a computer given factors that could not be determined and asked to run an impossible algorithm based on uncertaintly and vague, ever changing human emotion. 

A little while later Rhyannon talked to me, told me to run through what the options were, she said:

"It's not a waste of time because you're learning more and more about yourself and what's the worst thing that can happen, you miss a few things and have the rest of your life to go back and see them again"

So simple, how did she make it so simple? 

I knew then what my priority was, but felt reassured that New Zealand wasn't going anywhere, assuaging a constant gnawing fear that I hardly knew was there. The reality is, I do have to choose, not only to have a great fun holiday (cue sarcasm) but much more importantly, because this is my chance to learn lessons, and those lessons will change the year ahead. Two years ago, I learnt some lessons that put me in a place where I was able to have a relationship with another human being, I have always, always attributed my trip to New Zealand as the overiding factor that made it possible, and yes, it did, but realistically, I didn't stop learning once I was home, it just gave me something to run with. 

So yesterday my brain stopped trying to compute uncertainty and just gave me an answer, my priority was Scorching bay. 

This little place had captured my heart 3 years earlier and I had been vowing to make it back ever since, only it's not simple, a bus ride won't get you there unless you're going in the evening, and then there's no way to get back. My hosts had offered to take me on Saturday but I already had ideas for Saturday and quite honestly, after 3 years it was something I wanted to do by myself. 

I looked at the bus to Miramar, the peninsular that scorching bay sits on, if I took the bus there, walked to Scorching bay, had lunch, and took the same bus back, I could stop in Kilbirnie on the way home, walk up the hill to Newtown to take photos, back down, buy groceries and take the bus home, it seemed a flawless plan while the weather was still pleasent enough and I was sure I could fit all that into one afternoon, I already had plans for the evening and as I was sitting, fretting, it had already reached midday. Furthermore, if I went today, I could politely tell my hosts I had grasped the opportunity to go while the weather was good and free up my Saturday, and it had been that simple.

Rhyannon Jordan, I love you. 

I marched myself out of the appartment and called the lift, then I almost screamed. The lift was dressed up as a witch, the doors had opened and there it was, wearing a long black cape. I amost ran back inside. I had to walk away and ready myself before I called the lift again. For reasons I later learned, the lift had been kitted out with weird black curtains covering the walls, it was eerie (and no doubt totally benign to normal folk). 

I marched myself onto a bus to Miramar and asked the driver to let me know when we got there, the bus drivers so far have been very friendly and understanding and for that I am eternally grateful.

In the end I went to Scorching bay, I had lunch, I walked along the coast and back to the bus, I bought groceries but did not climb the hill to Newtown. I did a lot, so much so, that it'll need it's own blog post. 

I found the best place on earth. 

Just a quick update. (May contain self pity)

Okay, so I haven't written because I've been miserable, and that doesn't make for good writing or for good reading, but I wanted to keep people in the loop. I'm not strugging with massive demons, I'm just really bloody lonely and there are only so many shop assisants I can talk at before word gets out and they start avoiding me. I did however, have a very good day on Monday, after the cinema I went in search of tea shops and discovered T2, which is a kind of Davidstea from Australia, we have them in britain too, I've just never been into one. That are very impressive, I think the adrenalin of finding so much tea and the actual caffine boost of trying so much tea made me a bit overwhelmed. That night I went to the circus, (La Verità, beautiful, contemporary circus) and it wasn't bad, though a little busy for my taste, too much going on at once. However,I made   friends with the woman sat beside me who was very interesting, I may see her again as she offered me a lift to Otari-Wiltons bush this evening for a light show, but I don't know yet. Then Tuesday (yesterday) I met a friend for lunch, the first host I had in Wellington (2013) who I feel lucky to have stayed in contact with. Went into various shops, just trapsed, felt rather deflated despite managing to actually get out of the house, went to the museum but couldn't focus, came back, had a bit to eat then headed out to the 'dingle' (well, session on at the welsh bar), as I walked out of the apartment door I did a U-turn and walked straight back in, I had to give myself a fair pep talk before I felt confident enough to venture out and go to the session, only I didn't enjoy it, I was on the outside, in a bar full of people with not a single person to talk to or instrument to play, I wrote a bit, drew a bit, drank my ginger beer, reflected on how, like two years ago at the outdoor cinema, it was okay to concede defeat when you realised that you didn't want to do something because you just didn't like it. That as long as you don't let fear hold you back, once you've conquered that fear, it's fine to say "tits to this, I'm out of here suckers" or words to that effect. Not everything is about forcing yourself to do things you don't want to do, not everything is about inner demons, sometimes you're just cold or lonely or bored and you decide to leave. Though I'd missed my chance to sneak off to the cinema so I stayed a while for the hell of it. I walked back along courtney place, the centre of Wellington's night life and bar culture (and very close to where I'm staying) and watched all the happy people with other happy people so I walked past my apartment and out to the waterfront where I stared out into the vast, dark, sea and the distant lights of the city like some walking cliche of angst. Ughh, yeah, that's me, looking out at those cold lonely waves, black and turbulent, it's was like looking to a mirror, like looking into the depths of my soul... Ah f*ck off internal dialogue.  But I still haven't shaken that feeling off, now, on Wednesday morning I'm feeling sorry for myself, and then I'm like 'Hey you're in the best place on earth' and then I'm feeling dismal at my inability to appreciate my surroundings, and I'm an awful person then, and my guilt reaches up and knocks me over the head and I should be donating my body to starving orphans or something. Anyway, so, my thoughts are not concise and neat, I don't think I'm doing a great job conveying my feelings and to add to that it's 11.40 now and I still haven't got out, oh joy, more self imposed restrictions, more shame. I didn't keep to the plan mum, I screwed up. 

So this is why sometimes I stop writing, and I need to stop sometimes because my narrative has to be good, even at the depths of dispair, I can write about how awful I feel but this, this is a far poorer narrative, it's hardly even a thread of sense, it's a ramble, and I don't want to ramble, so I hope you'll forgive me for my lack of updates, normal service will resume when I am either euphoric or full of pain, because this, this watery self pity isn't woth either of our time.

T2

Poor man's dingle

Baptism of fire

Ah. 

So.. 

Right, well... 

I managed to leave the apartment at 12.35pm more or less, only last night when I got back from my Zealandia tour, I was locked out, key wouldn't work, had to go outside and dial up to the apartment to be let in. So I left the apartment just now, and I'm locked out again. I guess that answers that question doesn't it. I'll just have to cope. I'm going to the cinema. 

Oh what now?

It's 11.20am, I still haven't got out of the house, I have been up since before 6am but I can't get out. It's funny how inexplicable anxiety is, how do I put into words something I really can't begin to understand myself? All I know is yesterday I could go out, though I felt anxious, today I feel like my chest is full of rocks and I can't leave the appartment. The knowledge that should spur me on, that I have so little time here and so much to do, does little to quiet this anxiety, it raises it to a cacophony of troubles, and it feels like it's bearing down on me. I know this happens, I know this always happens but it feels a blow. I know I'll get out in the end, but the knowledge that Wellington is just passing me by outside and my brief time here is being wasted makes me want to cry. I feel like a machine that cannot process the command to leave, it does not compute, my being able to go outside and get on with doing things, I feel like I have frozen, my system in lockdown. I feel hard done by quite honestly, I feel like life has dealt me a card I don't want, I feel like I'm between a rock and a hard place, and the focus is always on what I CAN do, and what I SHOULD do, and rarely on what I want to do... what DO I want to do? I think more than anything I want life to be more flexible; Can't go out today? It's okay, Wellington's not going anywhere! Want do do 100 things at 2am? That's fine, we'll just stick more hours in the day for you! Not in the right frame of mind to be an adult at the moment? That's alright, the world needs more kids! What on earth do I do with this feeling? I feel some small pathetic misery, a heavy fear settled in my chest, a roaring injustice. I need a pause button on life for when anxiety strikes because there are few things that make me feel just as pitifully helpless as watching time slipping by and not being able to engage. 

Got to write this down while I'm still experiencing it.

Right, so I just made the mistake of planning to go somewhere without checking it was open, so travelled actross the city, bought metro tickets etc only to arrive and it was closed. Why am I upset? Is it because I wasted my money? Is it because I wasted my time? Is it because I made plans and now I don't know what to do? Is it because I might have to change other plans to allow for my mistake? Is it because I made the mistake in the first place? 

I'm not sure, I keep telling myself it's not a big deal, it wasn't much money, it didn't take long, plans are flexible, people make mistakes. And yet.. And yet my face feels hot and my nose is tingly and my eyes keep leaking. My head is thinking of other things I might have got wrong, dredging them up, saying "look at this, look what a terrible affect this will have and now you are doomed and things will be awful forever, you're stupid and you should curl up and die, it's your only option really." It's like I majored in melodrama. What the tits! When people say that mental ilness is all in your head they are just making nonsense sounds with their mouths. No matter what sense of calm and perspective I bring to my mind, no matter how I use my HEAD to rationalise it, my body betrays me. Shakes, churning nausia, tears, stomach cramps and difficulty breathing. My words start getting caught in my throat and I grow dizzy, then I feel my body shutting off, my eyes start to close, my thoughts get fuzzy and vague and everything is in slow motion. If that's just in my head then so are all the other illnesses that you experience due to mental stimuli to the brain. 

I feel exceedingly stupid and sad. I'm not looking for someone to coddle me or tell me it's okay, everyone has plenty of kind words and I thank you for that but it's not what I'm looking for, what I want is something that comes from inside myself, I don't want other people to tell me it's okay, I want that feeling to come from inside ME, I don't want my mind and my body to turn against me at every little mistake I make, god knows I'm trying as hard as I can, so for once, would you just support me instead of beating me up over everything I do?! 

What have I been getting up to in Canadia?

Right, a nutshell... 

On day one I got up at 4am, flew from London City airport, arrived in Amsterdam, bought 'Plato and a Platypus' and read it in the airport during my crummy 6 hour layover, flew to on to Montreal, watched 'Man Up' on the plane and continued reading my kindle book 'The Scar' (more on that later!), then when I arrived in Montreal I had the longest border patrol queue I've ever waited in, took an express bus to the metro, and a metro to my house for the week. Montreal metro is so easy, it makes the tube look like quantum mechanics. Crashed into bed at 9pm very jet lagged. My accomodation is lovely, as is my host. Total travel time: 19hrs :(

Day 2 I woke up at 3am but managed to doze uptil about 6 when I finally gave up and read, later I got up and read, my anxiety was (is) huge and I didn't manage to crawl out of the house until midday. I walked over to Cafe Chat L'heureux, Montreal's original cat cafe and had a very amazing grilled cheese aptly named a 'Cat Lady'. It was boiling out, really scorchio, but I knew the weather forcast was predicting rain so I dragged myself around the city trying to find a coat (I left mine ready to take in the kitchen). Okay, well long story short I did not have a good day, my anxiety was just too much for me to handle and everything I did was pretty miserable. Went to bed at 9 again, exhausted. 

Day 3 I woke up at almost 9 (hoorah!) and had a breakfast of biscuits and crackers before heading out. What a difference, where the previous day had been hot and bustling, the city lively and exuberant with lots of people out enjoying the sun and the weekend street festivals, today in the rain the city was calm and quiet, it was everything I needed quite honestly. I finally found a coat but while searching I discovered something much better, DAVIDsTEA! This is a paradise of tea choices! I have never seen so many tea options, nor have I ever smelled something so amazing! With everything from perfect traditional teas to the most incredible fruit and hebal blends, I was practically floored. I tried the tea of the day (a spiced pumpkin chai) and bought a few little tasters. It's incredible, expect me to come home, tea laden! I will include some photos at the bottom. Next I walked to the 'gay village' but I couldn't find the good bit so I carried on to Old Montreal, the dockside area with old buildings and cobbled streets, it was beautiful but packed with tourists and tourist shops so not my cup of tea (my cup of tea was a pumpkin chai latte with honey and it was very much my cup of tea!). After a little look about I headed back to Rue Saint-Denis and started the long walk back to my accomodation. I was starving by 4.30 and happened to be going past a different cat cafe so popped inside, they seated me at a single chair with no table and told me they'd be back to take my order, after 10 minutes or so they brought a cupcake to the people on the next table who asked if they could have their drinks too. Overhearing one woman say to the other '30 minutes for a cupcake and they still haven't brought our drinks!' I left. Knowing Cafe Chate L'heureux served excellent food I headed there instead and had the most amazing roast cauliflower salad! 

I went home and showered, washed my hair and bouyed myself up to go out again, but it was raining so much by this time, that I didn't want to stay out in it so I was back to the cat cafe for a cup of tea before bed, I stayed until 10pm, dirty stopout that I am! 

So now I have woken up on day 4 feeling far more positive and wondering what I will have to write about at the end of today! Who knows! Thanks guys, I wasn't happy when I got here, I'll admit that, because it's just as as important to be unhappy, you learn more. I feel much better now though, I hope I will look back on this trip and say I love Montreal, but if not, then that's okay too. :) 

The area I'm staying in; Plateau Mont Royal

Cafe Chat L'heureux!

DAVIDsTEA!! 

One of the beautiful old buldings of Old Motreal. 

Self awareness

So, a quick breakdown of my self development. The best way to describe it is like an eclipse. There was a time when my sun; my ability to cope, my self awareness, was really small. My anxiety was like a huge planet, moving in front of the sun and blocking out all it's light. In that moment, I was in a place so utterly dark, that I could not even imagine what the sun looked like anymore. Over time I have learnt a lot about myself and what brings about an eclipse, what helps me to nurture my sun and what helps to remind me that the dark is not all there is. My anxiety has stayed much the same, it is still a huge heavenly body, utterly dark that can move between me and my source of light, it hasn't got smaller, however, as I have nurtured a sense of self awareness, my sun has grown. Sometimes it is still the tiny ball of light that it used to be, and it is completely overtaken by an inability to cope, but other times is is huge and though the anxiety is a blot on it's landscape, terrifying, threatening to cut me off from all feelings of hope, my self awareness is bigger. The fear is still the same, but the knowledge that I can cope, and how to do that is has grown. 

Travel, mindfulness, music and friends have been the biggest instruments in my self development, I don't know what happens next, I'd like to think I find a way to keep that sun the same size, as it is a most contrary star and not at all predictable like my anxiety is turning out to be.