My most uninspiring post: The A+ Girl and pizza shops

This is the post that almost wasn’t.  It initially was: I wrote it and then I published it.

But I was unsure.  I sat there for 1-2 hours freaking out.  The post didn’t make sense.  And anyway, what kind of person who’s losing weight eats PIZZA, takes a photo and then publishes it for all to see?  Seriously Kate – you’ve told people you have an issue with food.  Do you really need to give them photo evidence as well??  And what kind of person admits to having 20635 undealt with emails and 124 unread SMS’s?  You already know you’re disorganised and a bad friend at the moment, do you really need to remind people?

And more importantly: do you really need to tell people that you’re struggling a bit at the moment?  Isn’t it nicer to just smile and not tell people you’re sad?  Isn’t it easier to be fake and say you’ll work it out when you have no idea how to?  Hell, yeah, it is.  So I took the post down.  45 people had read it at the time: I checked.  Okay – that’s embarrassingly 45 people – but at least it won’t be any more.  I can stop it now.  I’ll just replace it with a generic “I’m struggling but I won’t tell you why” post.  Yeah, that’s a good idea.

That generic post was hard enough to put out there.  I woke up this morning feeling like years ago when I’d have had a big drunken night then wake up and lie there and think ‘what did I do?!’  But instead of drunken shenanigens, this was about me opening up, completely sober.  Instead of vodka induced table top dancing, I was wincing over telling people how I feel.  What’s worse? 

There may be a bit of shame in the aftermath of a drunken night, but there shouldn’t be with something like this.

___________________


High school.
No, we don't want to go there.  The stomping ground of all things growing up.  Yuck.

We're not delving into teenage Kate, don't worry.  But there's this aspect of school that has got me thinking.  In my early high school years I may or may not have been a library monitor, co-founder and Editor of my grade's newsletter and founder and President of the School Environment Club.

Shhhhh.  You did not read that here.  *cough* #cananyonesaygeek *cough*  Yes, I was that girl.

Academically I did pretty well.  I was, on the most part, a straight A student.  Speech Night academic, cultural and community awards, charity door knocks and readathons, Lions Youth of the Year, musicals, Rock Eisteddfod, student host, school fashion parade, Student Representative Council rep, School Council rep, school magazine, etc. etc. etc.  You get the picture.  If it was offered, I didn't just have my hand up, I helped organise it.

There was one particular school assignment that I did that I have never forgotten.  I got an 'A' for it.  Someone said to me: "Well done.  Why didn't you get an A+?"  

I'm pretty sure they were joking, but there's usually an element of truth to every joke...  And the issue here isn't that person, it's the fact that since around then, I ask myself that same thing.

I think about that assignment now and again.  School is now long, long gone but I've realised through my adult life that I do that the 'A+ question thing' to myself all the time.  I aim really high and get down on myself if I don't reach a certain perceived level.  Level of what?  To be honest, it's actually not perfection - or success.  I fail all the time.  At heaps of things.  I've learnt to embrace failure and I really like that.

What I do however, is put expectations on myself.  I must be this ____ by this ____ and do this ____ to be ok.  Great personal expectations.

Many of them are unrealistic.  So I don't achieve them.  Then I get down on myself.  And I feel bad.  #stupidroutine

This week is no different.  I thought Week 1 of my 4th round would be pretty awesome.  I always get inspired at finales and this one was the best ever.  So hello?  What an awesome week should follow.  That, together with what I've learnt, meant that I expected myself to be in a different place right now.  I assumed I'd be in a place where I was highly organised.

Instead, I've had a shit week.  Finalemelanostia / finale crash has been hard enough.  I got back to work on Tuesday after an awesome weekend and found out my job is ending.  (Life of a contractor).  #helloagainreallife.

I ended up back in hospital on Friday night for something that I think was unrelated to last weeks incident.  Doctors don't know - who knows?  I just know I've been, and am still, in pain, and it's very frustrating.

I haven't had a chance to do pre-season yet or set my goals for the round.  I went off track with my nutrition in between rounds and have let it continue.  I 'meant' to relax with food for 1-2 days.  Instead I ate really badly across finale weekend.  I'm pretty sure pizza from a kebab shop at 2am after cocktails wasn't on 'the plan'.  Nor was the burger and chips I had for Sunday lunch.  I don't know why I'm making out like it was two meals - the whole week was bad.  I picked it back up again but then I've let this weeks stuff get to me and I've fallen immediately back into bad habits.  I had takeaway pizza the other night: WHY?  It seemed Mish asked me the same question.  As I was leaving after picking it up, I noticed the number plate of the car outside the pizza shop.  SERIOUSLY MISH. HOW DOES SHE DO THIS??

Mish is officially magic.

I know better than this which is what disappoints me.

2am kebab shop pizza.  Really?

I thought I could have a little break and relax - clearly I have not yet learnt this lesson or the meaning of moderation.  And that really annoys me.  Surely I should have it sorted by now?  I realised the other day that I keep making these references and grand statements here that I finally 'got it'.  How many times can you 'get it', Kate?  Really, now.  Maybe we never really 'get' everything?  Maybe everything is a process.

I'm also riding the disorganised wave from the events of last year and I'm letting that really affect me.  It makes me feel sick because I haven't been there for my friends.  And I haven't been there for me.  This isn't how I like to live/operate.  I don't like myself when I'm like this.  I feel like I'm forever playing catch up and not actually moving forward.  This isn't who I am.  I let last years stuff mess me over and I've just been coping as best I can.

This, and other stuff, makes me sad.

I wrote on my personal Facebook status the other day: "Maybe some things aren't meant to be fixed."  On the surface, that refers to the mess that I've made.  In a few darker moments this week, the meaning went a little deeper.

This has got to be the most uninspiring post that I've ever written so I apologise.  I was honest with some friends today about how I was feeling.  I feel sick about being honest and speaking up.  But maybe.....

--Maybe I am right and things aren't meant to be fixed -- but new things can be created instead.
--Maybe it's ok to accept that things are too far gone and it's time to look to the future rather than rectifying the past.  "The past is a place of reference, not a place of residence."
--Maybe my expectations need to be more 'realistic' rather than 'greater'.  
--Maybe an "A" is even better than an "A+" -- simply because it is what it is.  It's about the acceptance rather than the grade.
--Maybe my friends were right today when they said it's ok to tell people how you're feeling.  I'm a clear open book when it comes to everything in my life, except for things like this.  I asked for help when I was 18 and I was a mess when I didn't get it.  I swore I'd never ask again.
--Maybe I can ask again.

I'm not feeling great.