#ProjectPositive, September 12th. I feel good about myself today.

September 11, 2014 raphaela99Leave a comment

I feel good about myself today because…

Something just hit me. Do we need a reason? Do I feel good about myself because I lost 20 pounds, or because I am having a good hair day? Those things are transitory, and the thrill is lost within a short space of time. Does my feeling good about myself come down to such detritus, and if so, why? There has to be more; a solid foundation for self-esteem to flourish. I feel good about myself today because a friend (a very devoted friend), called out that she loved me from her car. I called back my adoration, and it left me with a smile. I walked two little girls into school, and enjoyed hearing their banter and giggles. I feel good about myself today because I actually remembered to feed myself breakfast, and felt I was worth the effort of preparing a juice. I feel good about myself because I cleared the calendar and have a day in the office to get paperwork completed so I don’t feel overwhelmed. I always feel good about myself when I look to the future and make preparations. There is nothing like laying your head on your pillow at night, knowing you have taken steps to prepare the road ahead. I have life insurance so my child is provided for, I have a budget for next week. I have my social plans on the calendar. These things make me feel good. I feel good that I caught myself this morning. I was watching the morning news when the Oscar Pistorius verdict flashed onto the screen. Not guilty… My breath caught in my chest, and a tightness gripped my lungs. Tears sprang in my eyes. I was overwhelmed with emotion, for Reeva’s family. I caught sight of the hurt and angry women’s right’s advocates gathered outside the courthouse. Some of these women had endured horrors of their own. One glimpse into their faces was all it took. “I got you,” I assured myself. I listened to Sia, and sat for a while, gathered my thoughts and concentrated on my breathing. I feel good about myself because I know what my triggers are. I know how to soothe the pain that bubbles up, and I know how to temper it. I refuse to turn away and be uninformed because of it, so I have had to devise tools to cope. The reasons I feel good about myself today have nothing to do with appearance. In fact, I am wearing mismatched socks (the only ones I could find), a men’s jacket found in an op-shop and old boots. The reason I feel good about myself is that I am hearing what I need, and providing it. Love, security, peace of mind, comfort.

#ProjectPositive, September 9th. Confidence.

September 8, 2014 raphaela993 Comments

Confidence isn’t what occurs after a haircut, manicure, purchasing new clothes. Those things are transitory and chewed up within a day of receipt. It cant be bought, and doesn’t depend on weight, nor a makeover. To have any lasting value, it must stem from within. If you don’t have it, that’s okay. A clean slate can easily have beautifully-scripted writing imbued on its surface. Make a list of all you value about yourself. Doesn’t matter what it is. Look at the positive qualities you radiate each day and all the great things you do, rather than the stuff-ups. When I see a confident person, I am mesmerized. It’s in the way they walk, the projection of their voice, the way they look you in the eyes. You can tell this person feels at ease within themselves and thus you relax too. They have a way of being. Every day, think about how valued you are, and the wondrous ripples you send out to us all. You are valued and treasured and this world would just not be the same without you. You can have complete confidence in that!

5th September, #Project Positive. Mirror, Mirror…

September 5, 2014 raphaela991 Comment

When I look in the mirror, I see…
A strong woman, and an impudent child. I look into my eyes and affirm, “look love, I know you haven’t had much rest. I know all about your pain. You can do today, you can! I will talk you through the steps, and even estimate how many hours it shall be before you get to have blessed rest. Remember how good it feels to lay down after a productive day? You can do this! You can!” That is the first thing I do every morning when looking in the mirror. I refuse to pay mind to creases and sags and wrinkles and pimples. If I wanted that sort of attention to detail, I would be sitting beneath either a cosmetician’s or plastic surgeon’s microscopic mirror. The eyes, and the smile, that is all that matters. As long as they are set for the day, the rest can be discounted. I pat a little jojoba or rosehip oil onto my visage, and off I go. I first saw my daughter studying her face in the mirror at six. Really studying it, as though they were becoming acquainted for the first time. I have her art and pretty hairbands and clips arranged around the rectangular bathroom mirror. I believe it is time to put up some affirmations too. I have practiced a lot of self-loathing in my time. I have starved myself and binged. When I was underweight, my parents said nothing. Scars and a rotund tummy were commented on, after weeks in bed after surgery. The state of my being after exiting a body cast. The puffiness of my face after steroid injections. Was I going to join the critique and wound myself further? No! I decided the most rebellious thing I could do was to discount the commentary, and certainly not join in. I have loved myself with stitches in my face, with black eyes, teeth that have fallen out due to medications, a body that gained a few stone and a body that became a puffer-fish. I decided that I had to love it all, or I wasn’t practicing self-love, rather conditional approval. It is tough and uncomfortable to look into your eyes at first. To say kind things to yourself. It won’t feel natural. I promise you, that if you keep doing it, it will become a ritual, performed without thinking. It helps to seal the wounds this world inflicts upon us. This world has enough critics. Become an encourager, and start with yourself!

September 4th, #Project Positive Challenge. The most valuable thing I’ve learnt is…

September 4, 2014September 4, 2014 raphaela991 Comment

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I have learnt many valuable things. The lessons bleed into each other, and are multi-levelled. You know, I think I understood more when I was younger. I think kids naturally "get it." We then get dulled by the world, our perceptions tarnished. Breakthroughs happen after breakdowns, big and small, and we are washed clean. Rainbows appear as does the knowledge that was always ours. Here are some valuable things I have learnt, re-learnt or am still learning.
1.You are going to be okay.
I wish I could travel back in time and reassure the girl (who was always afraid), that the life she dreams of will be hers one day. I wish I hadn’t spent so much time worrying. Now I say to myself, in three months (or three years), will this still be problematic? Everything comes to a conclusion.
2. Your perceptions are right.
I listen to my instincts when meeting people now, as in hindsight its always been proven correct. If I want to teach my child to follow her gut, then I have got to do likewise!
3. Everybody needs quietude.
We cant be all things to all people. I have tried! We need a quiet moment to ourselves regularly, just to check in.
4. I need to approve of myself, and there needs to be self-love, rather than self-loathing.
Intent is everything. I can exercise to flog my body, or to release endorphins to make myself feel great. I can raise a toast in celebration at a friend’s occasion, or drink to obliterate myself.
5. Regret nothing, as time is never wasted.
A love affair gone sour? It was sweet for a while, and provided nourishment for a time. Now it’s gone, its time to release and go onto another adventure. I have had the privilege of being with many folks, young and old, whilst they were letting go of this life. Sometimes I wonder if its only at the end that we can fully grasp the bigger picture of our lives and what it all meant. The people and places suddenly make sense. Hindsight can be a wonderful thing.
6. If I feel lousy, I must do something for someone else.
Whether that be a simple text message, sending a card, making a meal…
7. When depressed, I have to do the opposite of what I am feeling compelled to do.
If I feel like having a glass of wine, I have to have water. If I feel like eating nothing but crap, I will make soup. If I feel like climbing into bed, I will go for a walk. It speaks to the rebel within to defy the black dog’s compulsions.
8. Listen to other people, only when what they are saying resonates with you.
If I had listened to other people and taken their simplistic advice throughout the years, Raphie would have been kaput a long time ago! Nothing wrong with listening to yourself first and foremost!
9. Stop and rest.
You cant notice majesty when rushing around. You were made to be in this world, not do in this world. When I make time to stop and have a cuppa with a friend, walk or play with my child, my day is so much more pleasant and my head contains more clarity.
10. Ask yourself what it is that you want to happen.
Sometimes, I feel shocked when I enquire this of myself. Without unrefined goals and purpose, we can float along in a sea of inertia, overflowing with everyone’s input but our own.
11. Life can be bloody hard and really silly at times.
Find people who make you laugh, and whom you adore. At the end of it all, love is what’s real.
12. It’s okay to be angry.
Use it as a mighty force for change. Righteous indignation is a great energy to unfurl when we witness injustice. There are things happening here on earth that just aren’t right. We are allowed to be peeved. I was pissed off every day during my stint in rehab to learn how to walk, and it helped!
13. Be kind to yourself.
I think we are both stronger and more fragile than we give ourselves credit for. No more negative self-talk!

Owning My Me-Ness

March 24, 2014June 26, 2014 raphaela99Leave a comment

I love this! It gives you space to transform, to contract or expand. This is what I feel it is to be human.

The Body Cast and other Relic’s.

October 10, 2013June 26, 2014 raphaela99Leave a comment

It is a wondrous act, the art of rebuilding. Fractured and pulverised, like the component’s of stars. I was told there was a probability that I would never eat nor drink by myself again. That the nasogastric tube may be in place for the rest of my life. I was fifteen. I wish I had pictures of myself at that time to share with you. It was in the era before digital cameras, and nobody cared enough to keep a photographic journal of my recovery. I have snapped the relevant images within my mind. I found the white tracksuit pants I was wearing on that bitter winter’s night scrunched up in my wardrobe. They were torn, and despite having been washed, had stains from where blood and urine smattered. They were hidden in the back of my wardrobe, a shameful piece of my past. I retrieved them, and held them close. When I got dressed that winter’s night, I had no idea that I would be fighting for my life within a short while. I still have the gold bangle I was wearing. My wrist was fractured in the fall, though I barely noticed. It’s bent out of shape, having adapted to my twisted wrist. It has many scratches, from where bark chips stabbed it. I still have the Hartshill rectangle, which had been wired into my back in the first surgery, and my body cast, of which I was in for several months. I painted it. These horrid relics provide some comfort. In the absence of photos, which detail what I looked like after the fall (my face was bruised and cut, and I looked nothing like myself), these relic’s are evidence that it happened. That I survived. They are capsules confirming that it was as bad as I remember, and that I was stronger than that which tried to destroy me. I wish I had pictures of myself pre-surgery and post. Of the first time I walked again. Of myself in the body brace I wore for two years. I have my relics, and I am thankful for that.

Anger.

September 4, 2013June 26, 2014 raphaela992 Comments

Today, I learnt that a group of bad guys from my past were flourishing, and planned to open a business nearby. My first reaction was numbness. I couldn’t feel anything, nor did I want to. Nervous energy needed an outlet, and I cleaned my guinea pig’s hutches. I paced. I put on music. My daughter could feel the nervous energy and asked what was wrong. I couldn’t tell her. She is seven. It would require a long, convoluted explanation that I didn’t want to give to this precious child. These people almost successfully ensured that I didn’t get to grow up, and have her. I took her to school, and had coffee with a friend, a lovely distraction. I then became pissed off. How dare these people ever be allowed to be in a position of trust again. I want more for kids. I want more for my kid. I want them to live in a world where the bad guys get punished. I want her to live in a world where stuff like this doesn’t happen to kids at all. The truth will come out. It always does. I know that. I have been around long enough to see empires crumble, villains brought to justice and Royal Commissions uncover the reality of various groups. For now, I will treat myself well, go for a stroll in the sunshine and pick my daughter up from school. I can’t wait to play with her this afternoon and hear about her day. We are planning a trip to Nutcote, May Gibbs’ home. A place of Gumnut babies who get away from Banksia men.

PTSD.

July 31, 2013June 26, 2014 raphaela99Leave a comment

As a toddler, I had night terrors, the peculiar feeling of being cognizant of forces at play which can be felt in sleep. Terrorized to the point of screaming. They faded as I grew. Now, I suffer PTSD, as a result of having lived a dark dream. To confront the places of terror, and rewrite my own endings, was my weapon of choice. Many years ago, I revisited places of trauma. Instead of being left bloodied, broken and half-dead, my husband could recite a poem, I could leave flowers, and I could walk away. Not a speck of blood upon me. It rewrote the script, and I felt stronger. Over many years, I began to heal. It is a process, a series of steps. Walking to the letterbox whilst an unfamiliar car with a driver was parked outside was a moment of triumph. Listening to a song which once hooked me into the past was cause for rejoicing. Climbing a staircase, picking up my phone… Learning to be a functioning human.

The past few weeks have been tough. I have retreated somewhat, which fills me with pain, though not surprise. I have had a book published which details my dark dream. The media have interviewed me for hours on end, dredging up every painful moment, then leaving me to deal with the fallout. I was on a train with my daughter, travelling into the city for a day out. As we approached the station in the suburb where one of my villain’s lives, I could suddenly see his face. I could smell him. I recalled his deep guttural voice and the hollow eyes which contained no depth. He was there in that carriage. The other day, it was the anniversary of my fall. The day that changed everything. The reason I have had to pay a few home deposits to surgeons, the reason my kidneys are damaged and I self-catheterize. The reason I had to have a caesarean and was in unbelievable pain in pregnancy. The reason my daughter has to adapt to having a mother who needs to lie down mid-way through the day and can’t do all the physical activities other mums do with their kids. The reason I cry in the shower each morning from pain, so my daughter can’t hear.

A friend met me at my gym and we worked out together. We screwed up at our noses as a smelly, muscle man lifted weights, then had lunch together. I was so grateful she was there with me, my friend. I took my daughter to her singing lesson, and delighted in hearing her practice her scales. I chatted to the teacher’s grandmother, and revelled in discussing the frivolous subject of candles. I had dinner at the shopping centre with my child and husband and did the groceries. Songs from the past came over the speaker, and I was furious. Why tonight? Why are they playing songs he collected and strung together in a cloying, threatening mix-tape? I got home and burst into tears. The distraction of the day was over. I was here with my soul and my body’s cellular memories. Grateful and sorrowful at the same time. How could I not be thankful? Somebody wanted to kill me and yet I am still here. I have married, and had a spectacular child. I have a multitude of friends who love me deeply and I them. I laugh often and much and am resilient. Nothing much shakes me, certainly not the little hiccups in life. Thankyou! Thankyou! Thankyou!

Sorrow… Hmm, I have that too. As a mother, I grieve for that child, put in an impossible situation and left to fend for herself. She did the best she could. She screams within my heart that somebody hurt her, and it’s not fair. No, it’s not fair my darling. I will spend the rest of my life loving you, and protecting you as best I can. Memories get stirred up, songs are played. Something on the news reminds me of yesterday. I try to take each moment as it comes. Right now, my husband and daughter are playing with our baby guinea pigs, and I am in the office, listening to the sweet trill of my budgerigar, Cuddles, who has decided to join me. This moment is all that matters right now.