So…a new chapter in the unknown book of life



Ever write for the sake of writing? I do all the time now…and I love it.

Never know where to begin? Nearly every time I pick up a ‘pen’ or rest my hands on the keyboard.

Sometimes the only way to start writing, really it to start. Doesn’t matter what, just start…somewhere. Whether its a topic or words on a page, it really doesn’t matter; it doesn’t even have to make sense to anyone else but you (ICBG/ITILMN/WICRWASANL).

I suppose this post is just a bit of rambling to get me back into the swing of writing. My FanFiction story has reached thirteen chapters (approx. 60,000 words). I get regular readers and a few reviews here and there but that doesn’t matter, because I enjoy writing it.

Of late, there are many other things I enjoy doing; especially things I have never done before or neglected to make time for, or purely forgotten about. Sometimes I feel like I don’t know where to start or even how I’m feeling, all I know is that for the first time in, what seems like ever, I am actually ‘living’.

Depression and anxiety, along with work and study had/has consumed my existence since I was about 15. I never really made time for the things I actually ‘liked’ doing, because I didn’t have time, because of school, uni or work or I went from one extreme to the other.

Sometimes I wouldn’t start an assignment until the week before it was due and then be skulling red bulls the night/early hours of the morning before submission, just to get it finished. My mother used to say I was rather skilled at ‘winging it’. I can agree with her, but I really didn’t like ‘winging it’. I like to be organised and calculating; its just in my nature to be.

Or, all I would do is study and work myself into the ground. Even when I graduated uni, I threw myself into work, sometimes working 50 hours a week in my office jobs. I became a workaholic and stopped living my life. My health and attitude were tainted for many years because of disorders and medication and now that I have finally started to get my life back on track, things seem to be falling into place.

Not everything is perfect and I know it never will be, and of course the circle will never be complete, but I can try, can’t I? I mean, nowadays I am making time for things that make me…well me. And that is something that I have never really done before, because I lost who I was. I was living a tainted existence; I was living half a life, and really I wasn’t really living my life…but I think now I am starting to.

I am starting to be a little more open and honest within myself, and that is hard for me. Although I am engaged to be married, I am trying to be a little more of an individual and do things that I want to do. I lost individualism when I entered the realm of adulthood and more so since I have been someone’s significant other for the last seven years. It is nothing against my husband to be, it just has to do with things inside myself; purely just me. And there is nothing wrong with that, as long as you can distinguish between the two; living as an individual and living as a couple.

Again life, well my life, isn’t perfect; I still have worries and things bashing around in my brain non-stop, but I think I have the advantage now; I have the upper hand on myself, because I am finally beginning to figure out who the hell I am and to be honest it is quite liberating.

I was always so scared of what other people thought, that I would only see things they way others (I thought) would see me. I was afraid to be myself, I was afraid of who I was, that I wasn’t really living at all. Yes the anxiety and depression played a large role over those 12 years, but then I never really let myself live, because I was afraid. Now that I am getting help and support from those dearest to me and mainly from myself, I am starting to not care about what other people think of me so much and it has made me start to live a little more…and that is a feeling that I am chasing at the moment and hope to chase the rest of my life (to keep me moving forward).

I used to think secrets are bad and that living inside yourself was treacherous, but sometimes I think it is essential because it shows you, and only you, who you truly are. Yes, some secrets are bad and somethings people do are unforgivable, but then on the other hand, no one can truly know you, except you and I don’t think that is a bad thing at all.

I want some things just to be special to me; and only me. Is that a crime? I don’t think so. There is a reason I write as The Girl in the Green Shoes and not under my real name, because I am showing a part of myself that I only want to show to people who don’t know me; those who cannot judge the ‘real’ me. I mean there are a ‘select’ few who read my blog who actually do know me and one in particular that probably knows me quite well, you know who you are ;).

As I am starting to learn more about myself (at first some of these things were quite confronting but I am slowly getting my head around it now, or at least trying to), I am finally starting to find the real me; one that was either lost or didn’t exist in the first place, and that my friends, makes me feel real for perhaps the first time in my life.

I never could handle my emotions very well. Always wore my heart on my sleeve, always very open and honest, very loyal and trusting. Now I am starting to be a little more reserved and keep a few more things a little under the collar; some of those thoughts and attributes kept just for me. And I think living life like this a little more has made me be happier, and perhaps a little more social. It has also made me realise a few things about myself that I never thought were possible or even that I was denying for a very long time.

A long time ago I was quite the social butterfly, well in my words anyway. I used to see friends and family all the time, always had something on every night of the week, always doing something or seeing someone, then something happened…I broke and became a shell of a person; those were my darkest of days.

As I said, I have worked hard on myself, trying to wrap my head around things and finally I am moving forward and that’s great. Writing has helped me get there, it truly has. And because reading and writing go hand-in-hand, reading has made me grow, not only as a writer (not that I am calling myself one, I’m not), but as a person. Some of the posts I read on here or chapters on FanFiction, just speak to me; in words that I understand. Some of the people on here and FF alike, seem just as shattered and broken as I was, but they managed to pick themselves up, and gradually the scars are fading. Their words and stories have inspired me. They have ignited a flame deep inside m that has made me realise that my life is actually worth living.

I no longer look in the mirror and detest what I see (well not at 100% anyway). I look into the mirror and see flashes and glimpses of the person I want to be and one that I am slowly becoming. I have always had very low self esteem and I think it was a mixture of anxiety and depression growing up, but also because of the ‘time’ in which I grew up.

Everything was labelled back then; short/tall, fatty/skinny, pretty/ugly, straight/gay, happy/sad. I am sure those labels still exist, but people in this era are more accepting, because it is no longer a crime to be different, its welcomed (well more so then back then). Sometimes I think that if I had grown up now, back in that time that my life would have been on a COMPLETELY different track.

I don’t regret how or when I grew up, I just think that because of all of those influences, it has delayed the actual start of my adult life. Being an adult is not the easiest walk in the park and most times it just plain sucks, but if I had known back then, what I know now about myself and other people, I would have been living a more full life. But at least I am getting somewhere now; at least there is light at the end of the continuous tunnel…and for that (and myself) I am truly grateful for.

Don’t let anymore tell you who you are or what you’re not. You are the only person who will every truly know you and some parts you need to keep just for yourself, for your eyes only.

Never let yourself be the one who stops you from living or being who you are, because you will always regret it if you do.

Stay awesome ๐Ÿ˜‰

The Girl in the Green Shoes


The day I have had (and it’s only lunch time)…and what I am feeling today is…indescribable.

Do you ever get the feeling (or lack thereof) that you know what it is but really you don’t? Cryptic I know, but it’s all the same. How can you describe a feeling that is many feelings rolled into one big…(insert expletives here)!

Well this is how I feel, so if you can describe it or label it go ahead…I would be very interested to know.

Angry, upset, sad, broken, under appreciated, frustrated, irritated, confused, blazรฉ, tired, awake (insert more if you like) and strangely…calm. I’m not sure if I need a hug, a long sleep, a holiday, strong vodka or to punch someone in the face! WHAT THE HELL AM I FEELING?!

Whatever it is I just want the day to be over…well week actually…and to my disappointment it’s only Tuesday!

That is why I am here; quiet, breezy coffee shop with my Soy Hot Chocolate and some choc chip muffin (wouldn’t surprise me if it’s raw or organic or something, but it tastes pretty darn good). I need an escape from…that place. Even if it’s for only another half an hour that’s left in my lunch break…I need it.

So how do you feel all of these things all at once and not feel like exploding all of the painted walls? I have no clue, all I am trying to do is survive, stay calm and remain impartial, because that is the only way in hell that I am going to get through this day. Oh! And the fact o have a boxing bag at home…

Stay awesome ๐Ÿ˜‰

The Girl in the Green Shoes

Backwards: Condition, shampoo, repeat

Sometimes wearing (or not wearing) glasses can be a burden. It’s not so much the inability to ‘see’ things with your own eyes, but more so ‘what’ you do see with them.

My eyesight? Crap. I can see relatively clearly about 10cm in front of my nose and the rest is a blur; has been that way since as long as eye (excuse the pun) can remember.

I was fourteen when I became aware that I needed glasses. I was sitting in the science lab (like where you sit is like halfway across the room from the white/black board) and everyone was writing ‘stuff’ down, and I just sat there. I had no clue what everyone was writing, so I just started copying my friend next to me.

My friend soon realised that I couldn’t actually ‘see’ what the teacher was writing on the board; it was like he was ‘pretending’ to write stuff and making the students learn or something…well to me anyway. Not long after, did I actually realise I had to do something about my eyesight. I started getting extreme headaches, almost to the point of throwing up and being unable to concentrate on things I would normally have no issue with doing.

I didn’t know that what I ‘saw’ was different to everyone else. Looking back, I used to think that (when sitting in the school hall with the rest of the school) not seeing the detail on the teachers face when they were talking was…normal. Surely people couldn’t have that clear eyesight, could they? How could I have been more wrong…

Our school was split into four ‘houses’ each with their own colour; Lassig ‘Sharks’ (Blue), Tallon ‘Tigers’ (Green), Miles ‘Mustangs’ (Red) and finally my house, Hazzard ‘Hawks’ (Gold/Yellow). We each had a designated corner of the hall, in which Hazzard sat in the back left hand corner…basically as far away as you can sit from the front stage.

I would always know who was talking and could match up their voice with the way they moved and their position on the stage; again I thought seeing like this was ‘normal’ obviously it wasn’t.

After the headaches progressively got worse, my mother took me to the Optometrist for an eye test and diagnosis? Blind a a bat (although back then I could see about a meter in front of my nose clearly).

When my first pair of glasses arrived and I put them on, I remember that day so clearly (seriously no pun intended) like it was yesterday; in fact this was fourteen years ago…wow that is a long time now I think about it. Do you want to know what I saw? Everything…yep…every little thing.

Things I never knew where there were now staring at me clear in the face for the very first time. It was like everything was in 3D; like a filter had been changed or a light had been switched on for the first time. I instantly felt better; like more of a whole.

Aside from getting used to ‘seeing’ properly for the first time in my life (you know the headaches, sore eyes, sometimes ringing in the ears?) I felt amazing. I could read signs, see small font in the distance, see birds on power lines, and some things I actually found out had been there all along and I just never noticed them, because to my naked eye they never existed…until now (well then if you look at it that way).

My Optometrist had this like this…ritual (I suppose that’s what you’d call it) when you get your new glasses/prescription (and he still does this after all these years) he would make you stand in a specific spot by the front door of the shop and made you look down the street, towards the buildings in the distance. It allows you to adjust to the new strength without actually walking around and making yourself sick or fall over. And I remember the first time he did this, you know when everything was in 3D?

He stood me by one of the stands holding numerous amounts of different frames (in all colours, shapes, sizes and designs), basically pointing to the exact carpet or tile spot to stand on and directed me to look out onto the street. I felt a rush of feelings; a rush of pure emotion really. Like all my Christmases had come at once. Look I know that sounds stupid, but I am sure if you do wear (or have ever worn) glasses for the first time (like when you ‘actually’ require them) you know exactly what I am talking about.

Most people take the ability to ‘see’ for granted, because they don’t know what its like to not see, well ‘see’ through your own eyes, unassisted. I know this feeling oh too well, the not being able to see part, not the taking for granted part. I have always said if I had the choice of superpower I would most definitely choose the ability to see again, like properly; unassisted pure sight. I can’t speak for people who are actually blind and cannot see anything at all (and I feel for them, I really do…well as much as I can, as I am one of the ‘lucky’ ones who can ‘see’ at the very least something), but seeing is truly believing and being able to live your life to the fullest.

So what does all this have to do with Shampoo and Conditioner (well Conditioner then Shampoo in this case) you ask? Everything and nothing; depends how you look at it.

I have probably done this a million times but only recently this has stuck out in my mind (twice). The first time was towards the end of last year I think, and the second was about an hour ago; this morning. What am I talking about? Conditioner.

When you literally cannot see anything (like details of ‘things’) without your glasses on (like when trying to wash your hair) picking up the wrong bottle can make a massive difference. So this morning (possibly like many times before) I picked up the wrong bottle and started to condition my hair instead of shampoo.

You know how they has wash, rinse repeat? As in shampoo, condition, shampoo? Well today I did things backwards; condition, shampoo, condition. It really does make a difference and probably not a bad one. Like I said the first time I realised I had done it, I thought maybe I should do this more often; wash my hair backwards that is.

My shampoo and conditioner bottles are the same colour and size, but one opens from the top (shampoo) and the other (conditioner) opens from the bottom. Most times I would pick up on which is which, but my fiance has been stealing my shampoo again and switched the bottles around. I know he didn’t do this on purpose, but there is an underlying reason why everything has its place in our house and in my life…the fact I cannot see.

Mise en place (pronounced ‘miz on plus’ for those new to the concept) as the French call it, “everything in its place”. Its usually used in the concept of cooking, but it has its place (again with the unintentional puns…I am truly sorry about that!) in the concept of eyesight (or lack there of). I keep try to keep everything in a certain place or in a certain way. It’s not just an OCD thing, its a legitimate process as well.

For example in the shower, my bathing products are lined up two by two on the ledge, in a certain order (from right to left from the shower wall); conditioner at the back and shampoo in front, face scrub at the back and cleanser in the front, body scrub at the back and body wash in front, then my finance’s ‘2 in 1’ shampoo and conditioner at the back and men’s body wash in front.

The reason? So I can shower in control, by knowing which bottle is the bloody shampoo and which bottle is the bloody conditioner of course! Seriously, those who do not wear glasses do notย  know the daily struggles of those who do. Although I would rather wear glasses now than contacts (not that I can’t stick my finger in my eye…I have no problem with that!) I get annoyed a lot at my inability to see like everyone else does and just the way I look without glasses. Mostly because my eyes look sunken without them, having worn glasses for fourteen years and also because they kind of suit me after all these years.

The struggle is real people! Like when people say “your glasses should have windscreen wipers attached”…no joke it would be a freaking brilliant idea!

I suppose if you look at this post one-dimensionally, I guess all you’ll ‘see’ is glasses, not being able to see and washing your hair backwards is probably good for your hair (seriously I read that somewhere when I realised I had washed my hair backwards the first time), but really I guess the moral of this post is what you make of it.

Some may see it as clarification, others entertainment, me? I see it as soothing; and maybe perhaps a little justification in why I do the things I do and feel the way I feel. However you take it, I hope you enjoyed my positive (?) rant and perhaps you should actually try washing your hair backwards and tell me what you think, yeah?

Stay Awesome ๐Ÿ˜‰

The Girl in the Green Shoes


Escape…sometimes you need it; sometimes you don’t. Today is a day where it is desperately needed, required even.

It’s wet; raining. Muggy. Miserable.

For some reason wet weather brings out the crazies…whether actual “crazy” people or just crazy circumstances. Whatever the reason both are out in full force today.

It took me ages to get to work because everyone was doing 20km under the speed limit. Then work is crazy. Always so much do but it’s one of those days when one thing goes wrong and then you keep getting constantly hammered and the proverbial “shit” hits the fan and coats everything in its wake. And I’m tired, lack of sleep is starting to take its toll.

So escape you ask? What I need.

Sitting here in the quiet coffee shop next door with a hot chocolate (on soy) with two chocolate chip biscuits; planning an escape that won’t happen. After my lunch break there is one and a half days to go until the weekend is mine.

I don’t mind if the wet weather sticks around in my time (the weekend)…I can escape the “crazies” by not leaving my house…generally speaking. You can curl up at home, watch a movie, read a book, write something, all while listening to the rain catch on the roof and the windows. It’s a beautiful sound, one I love; always have. Must be a farmer’s daughter thing, I guess.

I remember as a kid (and still do) smelling the rain before it came. Closing my eyes and breathing deep, the scent filling inside me, providing an instant calm. I suppose that’s what I’m doing in my lunch break…escaping without really going anywhere. Listening to the rain is escape enough…well for the moment anyway.

As much as I would love to pack a bag and escape (even for a little while), this is all I can spare. Half an hour away from it all, sipping a hot chocolate and listening to the soothing sound the cars make as they pass by on the wet road.

Sometimes you don’t have to go all out to provide yourself with a little “escape”; sometimes you just have to leave your normal and do something different, even it’s only for a minute.

Stay awesome ๐Ÿ˜‰

The Girl in the Green Shoes

Snippets from a Weekend Retreat

The people are nice here. Not that they aren’t nice where I’m from…just different…a different kinda nice than I’m used to. And to me that’s…well nice.
The view is amazing. Ocean views through the harbour. Boardwalks, cafes and restaurants right within arms reach. I like it here. Need to do this more often. Not all the time, then it would become ordinary, but just enough to get excited when I do and miss it when I don’t.

I do miss the company but that’s not the point is it. The point is all about me…for once. It may seem selfish to others but I have never put myself first, like ever. I’m trying something different, to gain my happiness back. You know that thing that has been lacking in my life for years and to be honest it’s hard to remember the last time I was happy. But I’m trying to get that back or the idea of it anyway.

I will never be happy like I was; too much has changed and the years have passed. I’m chasing the feeling more than anything, perhaps the idea of it; of being happy.

Overlooking the harbour is a beautiful site; picturesque even. Many different boats, yachts and catamarans. All different colours (mainly white), shapes and sizes. Same as people I guess. I mean like different shapes, sizes, colours, attitudes and personalities even.

As much as this is a getaway from the struggles of adult life, I’m glad I don’t know anyone here. It’s a place of peace and serenity. No one knows your business and frankly no one cares. The ingredients to making the getaway worth it; reaping all of the benefits and rewards without the price of judgement from your fellow man (people who know you really)

Sitting here eating my French toast, it’s delicious by the way. Flavours of cinnamon and maple syrup and bacon…yep bacon. Oh how I love bacon but that’s a story for another day. I overheard a lady on my right across the cafe describing how nineteen year olds should be, “wow your nineteen? Shouldn’t you be out like partying like all of the other nineteen year olds?” It made me laugh thinking back to when I was nineteen, almost a decade ago. I was like that. Not partying it up and all that. I was different, heck I am different. Sometimes I feel like I’ve missed out on a lot because I’m stubborn but oh well got me here didn’t it??


I like those lights. The ones that hang from the ceiling; all industrial-like. Black wire casing with a single bulb. Some of these have different size and shape bulbs. It’s daytime now so I cannot see the ultimate beauty of them but I can imagine. I might have to return to find out.


This retreat I’m on is so…refreshing, relieving. I had my doubts about going away this weekend…alone, but I am glad I took the plunge and did it…for me. 

After breakfast I did almost 10,000 steps along the foreshore of this beautiful seaside town. Walked all the way down to the pier and back and it’s a long pier…like nearly 900m long. I knew I was going to have blisters as I wore my yellow chucks (not exactly walking material but it was worth it). And yes I have a big blister on each little toe and under under my toes on the bottom of my feet, but like I said totally worth it; I got my vitamin D (which is severely lacking), I stretched my legs, cleared my lungs and cleared my head. Even now I feel like a new person.

Since I got back from my walk, I was gone for like an hour and a half, I have been writing. Yep writing. One of the main reasons to get away in the first place. I feel better when I write, feel like I’m working towards something; the benefit being solely my own.

I have had some personal things going on lately and I needed to get away, so here I am. Relaxing, writing and sitting on my private balcony overlooking the harbour eating room service…delicious pasta and a pineapple mint frappe…mmm. Did I tell you I have an obsession for all things pineapple? No? Well I’ll leave that for another day. If it’s one thing I can talk about it’s my love of pineapples…oh and bacon…yes…everything is better with bacon but you already know that don’t you?

Well I’m going to finish my delicious lunch and get back to my latest fanfiction chapter ๐Ÿ™‚

Stay awesome ๐Ÿ˜‰

The Girl in the Green Shoes


Catharsis ~ “The process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions”

Catharsis is what I want. Catharsis is what I need. Will writing this post give me that relief? Probably not. Will it help at all? Yeah, I guess so, but that’s not the point is it?

Has someone ever asked you one question that has changed your entire outlook on life?

Ever thought that one question could change your life?

Ever thought, that one question could make you question everything about your life and who you are?

Well one seemingly insignificant question, has perhaps changed my perspective on everything I thought I knew about myself…and to be honest it scares the shit outta me.

Life knows how to throw a curve ball, I know that…but what I didn’t know is that life can really fuck you over with one simple question. On one hand, I wish I was never asked said question, in fact my life would not have been railroaded if the person who asked the question never even asked it in the first place. But that is life for you, one detour after another and I get that. On the other hand, I understand why said question was asked, and why this question needs to be answered, because it has mentality to make or break me.

I get that life isn’t fair. I get that life is hard work. I get that life is…well life. But what I don’t get is why this question has uprooted me in a way that I may never recover from, not entirely anyway. I mean I’m not dying (well not yet anyway and I mean everyone will at some point), but the result is “life” threatening. Its threatening to my life…you know the one I thought I had a handle on; the one I had control (well mostly) of.

I just want to see reason in a sea of doubt. I want to find what I lost. I want to be strong again, but I don’t know how. This stupid insignificant question is perhaps the most important one of my life up until this point. The way forward is in my hands, but I have no clue what I should do or where I should go, you know why? Because this question, made me doubt who I am and to me that is devastating.

Life is hard enough without having to start again, but imagine if in a matter of weeks or days even, that your world was turned upside down. Imagine if everything you knew about yourself was…gone…*poof*

Imagine if all of your morals, beliefs and core values were shattered?

What if.

Would you cope? Could you handle the pressure?

To be honest, I am not sure if I can, but I am going to try because I will not let it be the death of be or be the bane of my existence . The challenge is now trying to find who I am again, because that person does not exist since this question was asked, pondered and an attempt was made to answer said question.

Trying to find myself again will come at a cost no doubt, but I am determined to sort this shit out…I mean I have to. I just can’t help but feel the pressure. Its like I have to explain myself to…well myself. Like I have to start again, relearn everything that was once me; what was once my sole existence.

Like I said I cannot deny that it will not be a road full of twists and turns, humps and bumps and blood sweat and tears, but why did this have to happen now (if at all really)? Life was finally starting to move forward; finally starting to get better. I was becoming the person who I wanted to be, the one that had been lost for years behind the darkness of depression and anxiety and now here I am, lost even more than I was before.

How do you cope, when one question can change everything? The answer is you can’t; you just have to deal with it and move on the best you can

The Girl in the Green Shoes




Chapter Four, back to work & pajamas

Just a quick progress update on my FanFiction story and generally how I am feeling at the moment.

I am absolutely ecstatic at the response I have received so far for my Skins FanFic. I am surprised people are actually reading it, let alone taking the time to review and send me messages of encouragement. I originally posted the first chapter basically for myself, to prove I could actually do it…you know to stop being afraid and all of that.

So here I am… four chapters posted and almost eight chapters written. I never realised just good I feel when I write. Whether blogging or writing my FanFic it makes me feel…alive. Like I was meant to do this. It has only taken me to the ripe old age of 27 to figure this out about myself, but you know what? I am glad I found out at all. Better late than never hey?

This week has been a bit hectic. I went back to work after having a week off at home. I am one of those people who has to take my four weeks leave every calendar year otherwise I burn out and go crazy. A week at home did me good. I was able to recharge my batteries.

The bad part was the returning to work thing…always is. I was dreading going back on Monday just gone because I knew things wouldn’t be the way I had left it and basically that the “shit was always going to hit the fan” and it did…not as bad as I had been expecting but I still had to spend most of the week cleaning up the carnage left behind.

By the time I had left work on Friday I felt pretty good with the week’s progress and satisfied for once. As much as I want to be proactive at work, because of the nature of the work I do its almost impossible to be ahead of the game, but you can always try hey?

This weekend has basically seen me where three different pairs of pajamas…and that was only yesterday! I felt like having a pajama day and writing. It was so hot that I had to change three times. That’s Queensland heat for you.. I wasn’t in the best of moods this weekend, so the writing helped. Sometimes you have to listen to your mind/body and if it tells you to not see anyone and have a pajama day, then you MUST have a pajama day!

This morning when my fiance and I cleaned up the house (I really couldn’t have been bothered yesterday and I was grateful he decided to help me this morning) the sweat was literally dripping off me. I had it all over me, it was even dropping on my glasses! If you wear glasses I am sure you understand the predicament of the situation.

Anywho I am going to get back to editing my latest chapter. If you are a fan of Skins and like FanFiction let me know and I will send you the link ๐Ÿ™‚

Happy Sunday everyone

Stay awesome ๐Ÿ˜‰

The Girl in the Green Shoes



Return of the Avid Bowler

Tonight is the first night since the return of the bowling season  ๐ŸŽณ that I have actually been able to make because of my ankle. Remember the “when I fell out my house and hurt my ankle” story??

I’m not bowling too badly. Better than last year I think. I started really good last season and then got worse, but I love it so it doesn’t really matter.

The thing about bowling is every ball you bowl is different. You may have technique but the game is unpredictable; it’s what makes it exciting.

I bowl in a league once a week on a Monday night. I bowl with a whole bunch of different people. Different backgrounds. Different ages, shapes and sizes. A few people have dropped out so it leaves me the youngest at 27 and oldest is around 80-something. 

I love bowling. I love the feeling when you get up to bowl. I love the sound the pins make when the ball crashes through them. Sometimes I close my eyes and just listen. The music is pretty good too!

Some people have a style of bowling. Some spin. Some twist. Some people literally throw the ball halfway done the lane and you think the wooden lane will split in two. Some people bowl like butter; I particularly admire these people. When the ball is bowled so damn smooth it’s like they are spreading melted butter on toast. I find it fascinating. Me?? I am what you call a straight bowler. My arm doesn’t turn and if I get the angle right I (usually) hit what pin I want. I don’t use boards or markers for aim; I bowl by feel. If I feel good I bowl good. If I feel crap or tired it certainly shows at the end of the night.

I am in no way a professional or even amateur bowler. My average used to be 77 and now it’s 87. Tonight I bowled a 92, 115, 94; over average so a good night. When I started I was bowling an average of 120/130. My highest was 147.

Like I said I do it because I enjoy it, it makes me happy and gets me out of the house once a week. The people are friendly and you can learn a lot from them; especially those who have bowled for over 50 years!

Do you bowl or do something that makes you feel the way I do? If so, I’d love to hear from you and your stories ๐Ÿ˜Š

Please comment below or email me

Stay Awesome ๐Ÿ˜‰

The Girl in the Green Shoes

Cross bowling on Lanes 1 & 2

Something other than…food

So it’s been like a week since I last posted. Believe me I have been trying to come up with something to write…but I have to be in the right mood to blog, otherwise it all comes out like some regurgitated piece of shh..sheppard’s pie.

I don’t just want to write anything and everything on here. I’m not one of those people who just status updates every 5 minutes, with whatever comes into my mind that very second. I think about what I write; it’s important to me.

So when I finally I got over myself and I felt the desire to write, here I am.

Okay, so what’s with the title?? Well, not that I’ve said a lot about it on here, if anything really (maybe I have…not sure??), but I have anxiety and issues with losing weight. I have battled the weight demon for years and after ditching some horrid medication and getting my health back on track, I think I am finally heading in the right direction.

When you have been through what I have, and experienced the unsuspecting side effects of drugs (prescription that is), it’s hard to change your mindset about things, in my case…food…especially food.

You see I had an extreme reaction to taking the contraceptive pill for 12 years; I have put on somewhere within the vicinity of 30-40kgs since my teens. Having only discovered this fact in the last 12 months, I have ditched the medications, changed other medications to avoid stacking on or impeding my weight loss once and for all.

I guess that hard part was, and still is to some degree, changing my relationship with food and ultimately how it makes me feel. A combination of side effects, anxiety, hormonal and emotional issues have contributed to my significant weight gain over the years. It isn’t just any one thing. The medication started the weight gain, and fueled it for years to come.

I was always hungry, never full; that was the medication.

I kept eating and eating and eating to try and fill the void I felt; that was hormones and emotions.

I kept hating myself for not being able to stop; that was the anxiety

These set of circumstances just fueled my anger, my hate and my low self-image of myself.

Its been about a year since I have ditched the pill and about 4 months since I changed my anxiety medication to try and combat some of the feelings I had and the potential to gain/ not lose weight. I’m not going to be on medication forever, I hope to be able to do this on my own one day, but for the time being I need a little bit of help to get there. I am not ashamed of taking medication to help me deal with my anxiety, but I am going to monitor myself so I don’t fall back into that black hole…it’s a scary place there.

Okay so food…changing my meds and getting my health back on track, I had finally started to lose weight (not much only a few kilos) and size (something is better than nothing). But the big change was how food made me “feel”. I’m not as hungry anymore, I don’t mindless eat as much anymore, I am trying to change my relationship with food.

It’s not that easy to change your mindset of something. The way you think has been ground into you your entire life; you can’t just flip a switch and say “I am going to stop doing that and do this instead”. Well some people can, but me? Meh, not so much.

Anyway, I have been going to a counselor/life-coach again to try and help me deal with some underlying issues that have inhibited me from moving forward and getting myself back on track. I go every 3 or 4 weeks for an hour and end up leaving much lighter…emotionally. The sessions do help with the main idea of change the way you think to change the way you feel to change the way you act (its actually a triangle diagram so the notion can go either way really)

So what have I been doing? I have been finding other things, not food related to do. Don’t get me wrong, I will so till continue follow my passion of cooking, but for now its on the back burner until I can learn to deal with stuff.

Food and food thoughts, have been replaced with…reading and writing (and a bit of music). Sounds simple enough. I have rediscovered my love of reading and believe me its hard to read and eat at the same time…have you ever tried it? Munching away, the page moves and you end up reading the same line like 9 times, before you realise you need to just chew your food and come back to the book later. I can escape with a book (or fanfiction) and enjoy living inside my head, where food can’t hurt me. And writing…obviously blogging has helped considerably, not that I have been doing it for long, but what do they always say? Quality not quantity?

Along the blogging route, I mentioned a few weeks ago that maybe one day I’ll write some of my own fanfiction…well you know what…I have ๐Ÿ™‚ That is another reason why I have been AWOL in the last week. I have been totally engrossed with dumping my thoughts on paper (electronic paper that is, long gone are the days were we have to “write” on paper) and starting to write my first fanfic story. I’m up to like 14,400 words (4 chapters) so far and I feel absolutely amazing. Its like I am using a part of my brain that hasn’t been used since I was at university and even before that, when I was in high school. My creative brain

I have always been somewhat creative…I think so anyway…but it was always visual and via my imagination. I always had trouble saying, writing and drawing how I feel, but let me picture it in my head and it felt awesome. Now think of how it must feel to be able to express that “on paper”, its amazing. The euphoric rush I get from writing something that has been dancing around in my head for ages is a totally freakin amazing feeling.

For someone who hasn’t been truely happy for like 15 years, that is saying something. I am well on my way to curing my unhappiness and with that it could lead to losing weight and keeping it off for good (here’s hoping).

On a side note, I have started exercising again. I can’t do it everyday, because my ankle is still healing and my arthritis can be a bitch, but I am trying to do every second day (this week I done two 1hr is sessions). I feel so much better, and now I just have to keep going forward, one foot in front of the other.

Thanks for listening guys, I’ll try and not take too long between posts

Stay awesome ๐Ÿ˜‰

The Girl in the Green Shoes