Starting Out

Fifteen days down and so far I've managed to take a photo everyday!  There are times where I feel like I'm taking a photo for the sake of it, having got to the end of the day and not taken enough time to pause and look.  And there are things which aren't easy to photograph - a phone conversation with a friend, seeing some blue sky as I drive to work, a great song on the radio...

 

But there are also days when I know that I'm intentionally setting out to look for something that will make me smile.  And it's that word 'intentional' that has been a big help to me already.  I've talked a lot with my counsellor about getting to a place where I can make choices, rather than just resorting to my defaults.  And I feel like this is a big step forward in that.  I'm choosing to go out for a walk even if it is cold and I'd rather stay inside.  Instead of putting my head down and getting through the day, I'm stopping to get back out of my car to take a photo of the ice on the roof (even if there is a guy trying to park right next to me at the time, and even if I am running late for work).  I'm thinking about how I enjoy wrapping presents for people.  I'm enjoying using Instagram and deciding which filter to use or which hashtags to tag my photo with.

 

I'm not saying I've turned into someone who dances down the road with birds and squirrels following me...  But I know this project is helping.  I know this is good for me.

 

So here are my photos so far.  You should hopefully be able to click on the image to see a larger version.  And even if you don't have Instagram, you can check this link to see the photos that I add: www.instagram.com/muhanga12

 

 

Day 1: Fairy lights on trees, Byres Road; Day 2: Mmm, chocolate pudding; Day 3: Mugdock Park; Day 4: Holly bush in Hyndland; Day 5: A day in Edinburgh with my bestie; Day 6: My mum trying on Christmas wreaths in Dobbies (ok, I made her do it); Day 7: Pretty copper star lights above my bed; Day 8: Last long lie of the holidays; Day 9: Wrapping presents & watching Netflix

 

Day 10: Chilling with some candles; Day 11: Chocolate bunny to hurry Spring along; Day 12: You know you live in Glasgow when buckfast is the special offer on the door; Day 13: Ice patterns on my car; Day 14: Amazing light and shadows in the Botanic Gardens; Day 15: Pizza Friday

Hello, it's me

It's been a while since I last blogged, and the first day of a new year seems like a good time to put some thoughts down.  I can't say I'm a fan of New Year, but it is an opportunity to do a bit of reflecting on the year that's just ended and looking to the year ahead.  Some people make resolutions, but I know they don't work for me - I feel like I'm setting myself up to fail. 

 

I know I have a natural tendency towards pessimism, and that my default thinking patterns are often quite negative.  When I think about the kind of person I would like to be, I often think to the other extreme of what I am - someone who is (nearly) always positive and happy, outgoing, popular, the life and soul.  But that's just not me.  I'm never going to feel totally comfortable being the centre of attention, and I can't see myself as that person who everybody wants to be friends with.  And that's ok.

 

I would like to feel better about life and myself, but 'trying to be happier' sounds forced.  Instead of trying to make myself be a different person or be a 'happy' person, I'm going to take a step back.  My non-resolution New Year's resolution is to do or find something everyday that makes me smile.  So I'm not trying to force a feeling, but am being more intentional about looking for and recognising positives in my day to day life.  More positive thoughts will hopefully bring more positive feelings, right?!  It doesn't have to be anything huge.  In fact the more simple things are probably better.

 

The plan is to take a photograph everyday this year, posting it on Instagram, in order to encourage my creative side as well.  You can follow me on www.instagram.com/muhanga12  I'll share some of them on facebook and here on my blog from time to time.  I'm hoping this will be good for me, in the same way that my list of '30 things to do before I turn 30' was.  I know it helps if I have a project.  Something to focus on.

 

I very much doubt that this is a new idea.  In fact there are plenty of other people on Instagram using hashtags associated with this kind of project - #366days, #366smiles, #project366 etc.  I won't be setting a theme for each day like some photo challenges, but just finding something that makes me smile.  Hopefully I'll achieve some things along the way that I would have set as resolutions (if I was into setting resolutions), such as getting fitter, losing weight, valuing my friendships more, doing more art....

 

Today' photo was of some trees covered in lights on University Avenue, in Glasgow's Westend.  I love fairy lights, at any time of year.  And having spent most of today indoors, it made me smile to see something pretty as I was out for a walk.

 

 

Maybe this is it?

I wrote this post about 10 days ago and never quite got round to publishing it.  Most of the time I feel ok about being honest on my blog, but I wasn't so sure about sharing this one.  But for some reason, I'm doing it anyway....


My last post was titled 'This isn't everything you are', after a Snow Patrol song.  But what if this is everything I am?  I know people can change over time.  But change can be harder for some than others.  Take a physical example - a person who naturally gains weight very easily will have to work very hard to lose that weight and then keep it off.  There's not much room for 'off' days, as they will all too easily fall off the wagon so to speak, and one biscuit can lead to five which leads to an empty packet (I speak from my own experience there).  This could easily get that person down.  Or they could decide that they are up for a challenge and keep working hard in order to feel the benefits.  Decide...  It has to be a conscious choice.

 

I'm much more of a pessimist than an optimist.  I have a family history of depression.  Looking back, I can see the cycles of depression or depressive episodes that I've gone through since primary school.  When I realised that I was depressed again in summer 2014, I wondered what I had been doing wrong.  Had I got lazy and just slipped back into negative thinking habits?  Shouldn't I be coping better with life?  Most of the people around me seem to cope with what life throws at them, so what's wrong with me?  If I could just find the right medication, or go to enough counselling sessions and journal enough then I will find that 'fix'.  The magic wand.  The fairy dust.  Of course it sounds ridiculously naïve as I type that.  Life doesn't work like that.

 

I had a really hard counselling session a few weeks ago.  'No pain, no gain', I told myself.  And I went home and waited to feel different.  I waited to feel the freedom and release that I expected to come from having touched some very painful memories and feelings.  I thought I would feel a physical weight off my shoulders.  And so I waited.  And began to have doubts.  I asked myself what I was doing wrong.  Maybe I hadn't tried hard enough?  Maybe I hadn't opened up enough?  I shouldn't still feel like this.  I shouldn't still struggle with the same problems that have affected me for the past however many years.  I've talked about these things with counsellors before.  So why do they still upset me?  I shouldn't feel like this.  I should be able to cope better than this. 

 

Is accepting this is going to be a long term fight admitting defeat?  Or just being realistic?  Perhaps it depends which way you look at it.  Part of me longs to get to a point where I just feel 'normal' (whatever normal is) and can put these issues to rest.  A point where this time is the last time.  But in longing for that, am I just adding to the sense of disappointment and frustration that I feel with myself?  My struggle to accept that I'm struggling only seems to make things worse.  I find it hard to allow myself to not be coping.  As if I should be invincible or something.

 

I accept in my head that I will always need to keep an eye on my mental health.  But I think it only really hit home today what that might mean.  The prospect of a constant fight not to eat the whole packet of biscuits.  To dig my heels in when I feel myself slipping down that dark hole.  It makes me feel tired just thinking about it.  I suppose it becomes easier over time.  The more you practice, the more it becomes second nature to reach for the positive reaction over the default negative one.  But the thought of living like this scares me.  What if I don't have the fight in me?  I'm not great at making good choices.  Who would want to be with someone like me if they know there's a chance I'll go through another cycle of depression at some point?  What if I have kids and pass my mess onto them?  What if I can't protect them? 

 

And so the fear of what life might hold stops me from actually living it.  I find myself stuck in a place where I look back with regret, look forward with worry, and miss out on the here and now.  It's not a good place to be.

This Isn't Everything You Are

I spent most of this past weekend having a massive party.  A rockin' pity party with one guest on the invitation list.  Self-pity isn't an attractive quality to possess, and unfortunately I'm quite good at it.

 

A couple of events from Friday and Saturday, mixed with my overactive/ pessimistic imagination, led me to be convinced that I'm going to end up on my own and die a lonely old cat lady.  (I told this to a friend this evening, and she added in being eaten by Alsatians who have already eaten my cats - at least I can see the funny side of it now right?!) 

 

I've been reading a book recently, which presents some interesting thoughts on psychology and happiness.  I came across this last night:

 

Do you believe that your past determines your future?  This is not an idle question of philosophical theory.  To the extent that you believe that the past determines the future, you will tend to allow yourself to be a passive vessel that does not actively change its course.

Martin E.P. Seligman's Authentic Happiness, p66

 

I thought this was a really interesting concept, and one I'd like to spend more time thinking about.  I have a lot of regrets about the past and struggle to come to terms with things that have happened in my life.  My default is usually to focus on disappointments rather than happy memories.  Obviously I can't go back and change the past.  And I recognise that I need to come to a point of understanding these events in my life and acknowledge them (rather than bottling them up or ignoring the pain that they caused).  But then crucially I need to learn from these experiences and move on to the future.  It's something that I've spent a lot of time on in my counselling sessions, and I'm at the stage now where I need to actively decide to make some changes and follow them through.  I'm finding that pretty hard.

 

There's a balance in all of this.  For example, I don't particularly like being quiet and I hate the assumptions that people often make about me as a result of being quiet.  But I also wouldn't want to be the centre of attention all the time and in the spotlight.  But there are steps I could be taking to move from where I am now to somewhere in the middle.  (We often talk about it being like moving the pendulum in my counselling sessions, even just 5% and what that might look like.)  The person I am now isn't everything I am.  (The blog title is taken from a Snow Patrol song, which just happened to be playing as I write this.)  Without trying to sound overly philosophical, I guess we are all trying to work out what kind of person we want to be and what that looks like in practice.  I haven't figured out how to get there yet, but I want to believe that there is more to my life than what I am experiencing right now.  That there is more to me.

 

So am I a product of my past?  Well yes, it has definitely impacted who I am today.  But I would hope that it doesn't limit me to staying within the confines of these past experiences.  And that leads me back to my pity party.  Somehow I need to figure out how to shift myself out of jumping to the negative conclusions and recounting disappointments (I've been on my own for ages, so I'm always going to be alone) and move that 5% forward (I might be single right now but there's still the future).  Answers on a postcard please.

Something Lighter

It's been a fairly busy week and I've not been sleeping well, so I am feeling tired and very emotional this evening.  I'm posting this to show (myself) that I'm not just an over-thinker and over-sharer.

A brooch which I made for a friend's wedding for each of her bridesmaids to wear, using the scraps of fabric from her husband's kilt.

Some lovely afternoon sun this week, helping my aloe vera plants to grow.  Not that they need help, they are growing like crazy!

Itchy Feet

I don't blog as often as I would like, but there are times when I have that urge to WRITE!  It's like a traveller who gets itchy feet when they hear of another person's travel tales (I also suffer from this).  Or when you have to go for a run to burn off the frustrations and stresses of the day (unfortunately I don't suffer from this, I comfort eat instead).  I'm not sure what the writer/ blogger equivalent is called, but I've had it this week.  The opposite of writer's block.

 

I've been feeling quite jumbled and out of sorts for the past couple of weeks, and haven't been sleeping that well.  On Monday night I couldn't sleep and eventually had to write some things down on my phone just to stop them from churning around my head.  Here's what I wrote (bear in mind that it was about 1.30am):

 

Why are friendships and relationships such hard work at times?  I sometimes wonder if it's just me who has high expectations when it comes to people.  I'm not excluding myself from this - I seem to regularly let myself down and don't meet the standards I've set out for myself.

 

I need to look for a new place to live over the next few weeks.  This is raising some hard questions for me, that I'm doing my best to avoid thinking about too much.  Should I move in with other people?  It would be good to have more company.  But part of me feels that the older you get, the fewer people there are who want to live with flatmates.  I'm used to living on my own now, having done so for over 18 months.  But can I afford to keep living on my own?  And surely this won't help me to feel less lonely.  My parents have offered to help me buy a place when I'm ready.  But I don't feel that my job is stable enough to do this.  And there's still that wee girl in me who thought I would be buying my first home with my husband. 

 

I don't think it's much of a secret that I would like to be married.  But the prospect of such a big commitment also terrifies me.  Will it be worth the challenges and compromises?  What if it doesn't work out?  I know that marriage isn't going to make me happy and solve my problems in itself.  I can't rely on someone else to sort my problems and issues out.  But there's still something in me that thinks I would probably be happier if I was in a stable relationship.

 

Part of me wishes that I could just hide from all of this grown up stuff.  The ignorance of youth sounds quite appealing.  But unfortunately (as my mum reminded me recently) I am a grown up.  So I need to face these decisions head on.  Like a grown up.

 

I used to make lots of plans for the future.  I don't do that so much anymore.  Now I'm scared of looking ahead too much.  I don't like the unknown.  I'm scared of the possibility of having depressions again in the future.  Of staying single and not having kids of my own.  Scared of not feeling financially stable and running out of savings.  Scared of being left behind in my groups of friends. 

 

Sometimes I wonder what my life would look like if I wasn't living in the shadow of fear?

 

 

All sounds a bit depressing now that I read back over it!  I also sound like a broken record, and I'm sure those who are close to me are fed up of hearing me talk about the same old worries!  But these are my worries, and at times I do feel better for laying them out bare in front of me.  (Although I wonder if I overshare on my blog...)

 

I have been doing better over the past few months, for which I am very grateful.  The dark pit of depression is not a safe or pleasant place to be.  It's like that analogy of the frog and a pan of hot water.  If you dropped me into the hot water of depression, of course I'd do what I could to jump out of it straight away.  But when it happens gradually you don't notice you're in danger.  It creeps in and the familiar warmth almost feels comforting, until you realise that it's suffocating you and you're too tired and weighed down to kick your legs and get free.  So I am relieved to be out of that place.

 

About a month ago, I was doing some reflecting and journaling.  I thought back to when I was 18 and in the Dominican Republic with Tearfund for 6 weeks.  It was hard work and I was terribly homesick, but it was such a formative experience for me.  I was reminded that I came home having decided that I wanted to work for a charity and would do what I could to make a difference in the lives of others.  It feels like such a revelation to be reminded of that time.  I imagine being able to tell my 18 year old self that 12 years later I would be working for a charity, and that I would be making a difference.  It gives me a lump in my throat to think about it.

 

At what point did I lose that dream and get bogged down in the uselessness of comparison, disappointment and regret?  And how do I avoid falling into that trap again?  I feel like remembering that young dream has given me some of my sight back again.  I can sense my enthusiasm return.  Slowly.  For life, for work, for myself. 

 

And I think I'll stop here before I write a book...  I need to blog more regularly!

Chicken Soup and Lemsips*

* Other brands of powdered cold relief sachets are available...

 

I hate feeling unwell.  Especially when you live alone and there's no one to keep you company, give you sympathy and bring you supplies of food, tissues and DVDs.  I remember when I was a kid and mum would give us chicken soup and toast if we were ill.  And if we'd been throwing up then the first thing we were allowed to eat were rich tea biscuits, which will forever be known as 'sick biscuits' in the Smith household.

 

Do you ever get that feeling where you know that a cold is coming on?  The tingle in your throat, extra pressure in your forehead.  I felt that yesterday morning and by the evening it was a full blown raging headache and snotty nose.  I dragged myself out of bed this morning and went into work only to be sent home by the ladies in the shop at lunch time.  They told me they didn't want my germs... in the nicest possible way.

 

So I find myself in a heap on the sofa surrounded by tissues, a blanket, water, a half drunk lemsip (which is making my teeth hurt), a half eaten box of chocolates (ok, fine, more than half eaten - it was a small box!), my journal, a book, my cardigan and scarf.  My temperature is all over the place.  I woke up boiling this morning, was freezing in work, sweating on the way home and can't get it right in the flat.  I don't often take time off sick, and would much rather push on through it.  But after hardly sleeping last night and struggling to string a sentence together this morning, I'm glad to be taking it easy.  I know I'm feeling unwell because I started crying at the end of the Nicholas Sparks movie I just watched on Netflix (The Best of Me).  Next step is watching clips of puppies on YouTube... save me!

 

It's funny how the brain distinguishes between physical and emotional illness.  Even as someone with experience of mental health problems, I somehow justify physical illnesses in a different way.  I don't have a problem with taking antibiotics or painkillers.  If I had diabetes, I wouldn't think twice about following the medical advice from my doctor.  So why is it different for depression?  Why did I feel like it was admitting defeat to go back on antidepressants again last summer (almost a year ago to the day)?  I tried a couple of different types and dosages, gave up in February because I couldn't cope with the side effects, and then took a complete nose dive.

 

I wrote this in my journal on the 21st May:

So I have an appointment with my GP tomorrow and I think I'm going to admit defeat and ask to go back on antidepressants.  Something needs to change in my life - I can't keep going on like this.  I met up with [a friend] last night and she asked what was keeping me going, what was I holding on for/ with?  I'm not sure that anything is keeping me going apart from the natural passing of time.  I'm not actively fighting through this, I'm just floating down the river.  I feel totally empty inside and just miserable...  Surely life wasn't created to feel this bad.

 

Once again, I used that phrase 'admitting defeat', but why should treating depression be any different from treating any other illness?  Did you know that according to the World Health Organisation depression affects around 350 million people of all ages worldwide (figure from 2012)?!  That's more people than the population of the United States.  So it's not like depression is rare or unheard of.

 

I think for me, I don't like that I struggle with life.  That I might need medication to help me get through.  It makes me feel weak or less of a whole person.  That I'm not strong enough to cope on my own.  But I wonder if those thoughts say more about how I see myself than about my views on medication.  Self-stigma.  Would I say of think these things about any of my friends who were in a similar situation?  Of course not!

 

I've been on a new medication for about 11 weeks now, and it's actually working.  I feel like I'm living again, not just existing.  Is this all down to medication?  I don't think so, but I know it's part of my recovery.  And am I about to start a campaign to reduce the stigma around mental health problems and treatment?  Definitely not.  But I think it's helpful for me to reflect on my own struggles with this topic, and hopefully gain some insight for the future.

Mission Completed

9. Fly in a helicopter

 

Well, I can now say that I've finally finished my list!  Yesterday I ticked off the final item, flying in a helicopter.  I'd booked it in April, but had to wait a wee while to use the voucher and had my first attempt called off by the weather.  It was a bit cloudy yesterday, so instead of flying over Glasgow, the pilot took us up to Loch Lomond and back.  Not to sound like a show off, but the views were very similar to when I did the hot air balloon.  But it was amazing being in something that moves so fast, and very differently to balloons or planes.  My favourite bit was when the pilot turned round and said to me over the headphones, 'Don't worry, you won't fall out', and then did a really steep turn to the left making the helicopter lean right over!  It was over far too quickly (it last about 15 minutes), but I'd definitely recommend it.

 

 

Circling over the Clyde

 Obligatory selfie and the view approaching Loch Lomond



Balloch

 

And so, my '30 things to do before turning 30' list has come to an end.  I have mixed feelings about it.  As I've said before, it's been really good for me to have this to work on over the past 13 months, and it's given me a sense of purpose and focus (two things I struggle with a lot).  I've done new things, some that I've wanted to do for a long time.  I've had fun, and been able to share some of them with friends.  And I've loved being able to blog about it - I find writing very therapeutic, and it's good for me to write about something positive.  My diary is a pretty miserable read!  At times, it's felt a bit of a burden, especially financially.  And I struggled with some of the items, like the sewing machine projects.  But I feel sad that it's over now.

 

I've been in my thirties for over 10 weeks now.  And no, the world hasn't fallen apart and I haven't turned wrinkly and fat overnight (thankfully).  Do I still worry about the future and the prospect of getting older?  Yes, of course!  But at least I've created some good memories along the way... something which I hope to continue to do.

 

I'd like to thank my family and friends for being so supportive of all this over the past year.  And a big thank you to anyone who reads this blog.  Sometimes I worry that I'm boring and that people aren't interested in me, so I find it very encouraging when people say they enjoy reading this blog.  It means a lot to me.

 

Better get writing that '40 before 40' list...  Xx

Some Days

Some days I don’t particularly notice that I’m depressed. I get out of bed at a reasonable time, as soon as the alarm goes off. I do a full day at work. Cooking dinner is easy because I left something out the night before, or there’s fresh stuff in the fridge. I might see friends in the evening, or go swimming or out for a walk. I go to bed at a sensible time and sleep well.

 

Most days I notice it though.

 

Days like today are the worst. I feel this heaviness, like walking around with 10 encyclopedias on my head. I can’t face getting out of bed. I don’t want to go into work. I am desperately lonely but probably couldn’t face meeting up with someone or talking on the phone. Small things make me incredibly stressed and angry. I have to force myself to leave the flat. There’s hardly any food in the fridge. I binge on stuff that will distract me – Netflix, snacks, Candy Crush… I go to bed at 2am. I can’t sleep. I fluctuate wildly between feeling totally overwhelmed and feeling nothing.

 

I’ve seen depression illustrated as like a big black dog that follows you around. Mine tells me things like:

• Why even bother trying to start doing something creative, you’re no good at it and won’t like what you make anyway
• They’re not interested in what you have to say
• You can’t do this job – why not give up now?
• He doesn’t care about you. What, you think you actually mean something to him? Haha, don’t be so stupid.
• They only say those nice things because they are your parents and they have to
• You’re a disappointment
• She’s sick of having to pick up the slack from you
• You are never going to meet someone who will love you, want to get married and have a family. You had your chance and you blew it.
• You are unlovable, unaccepted and unforgiven. You will never experience that freedom that you so desperately want to have from being a Christian.
• Don’t even bother looking at that job advert, you won’t be able to do it
• Your friends just feel sorry for you, they don’t actually like you
• That flat and empty feeling inside - the one that sucks the life out of you - it's here to stay
• Even if you do come out the other side of this bout of depression, I’ll come back again. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.

 

I know these sound quite extreme. You may tell me that they’re all lies, and that I need to think positively, try and change my thought patterns etc. Of course I have moments when I can be rational, weighing up the evidence for and against. But depression is not rational or clear. It’s like being stuck in the middle of very thick fog. And in the heaviness of that fog, these feelings and thoughts are very real to me. Sometimes I feel like my insides are being crushed or twisted together. Or that I’m drowning.  

 

Have you ever tried to put a sleeping bag back into its little storage bag? This is my current coping strategy – to stuff as much as I can inside the bag, piling it all in on top of each other, pushing it further into the bag in the hopes that it will all fit inside and I can pull the cord closed and shove it to the back of the cupboard again. Occasionally I let a little bit out, air it and fold it up smaller and neater. But most of the time I just to try to hold it together. I can be quite good at it (much to the frustration of my counsellor). Sometimes it physically hurts to keep the bag closed – the concentration needed to hold it together leaves me feeling exhausted. Depression can have an anaesthetic effect as well as pain, and I welcome the numbness as it often seems like the only way to make it through another day.

 

 

Disclaimer:

Of course, this is just my experience of depression and it can differ hugely between individuals. I find using metaphors helpful (as I'm sure you might have noticed!), and hopefully this gives some insight into what depression is like.

Handle With Care

It's almost a year to the day since I came up with the idea of making a list of 30 things to do before I turn 30.  I had hoped I would finish it off today, but my helicopter flight was cancelled due to the miserable weather.  As with my hot air balloon ride, it's pretty understandable that getting the right conditions for these things when you live in Scotland isn't straight forward.  So I've rebooked it for June.  But at least I've got the voucher, and know it will happen at some point.

I've been 30 for over a month now.  I was about to write that it had been quite uneventful so far, but I don't think that's true.  It's easy to forget, even in that short space of time.

I was telling someone about my blog recently, and said that quite a few people had commented to me that I was often more honest in my blog than I was in face to face conversations.  I have to admit that there's a part of me that liked this - as if I had found a way to open up to people and a way for others to see the 'real' me.  But this person totally deflated that - 'just because people tell you that, doesn't mean it needs to be true'.  It's easy to hide behind a computer screen and type whatever you want - look at the soaring numbers of cases of cyber-bullying.  Social media gives us the option of being so very selective in what we tell the world.  It's easy to misrepresent the truth. 

The longer you put off doing something, the bigger and uglier and less appealing it becomes.  Have I become too used to being selective in what I say?  Too used at putting on a front?  Do I hide behind my blog?  I don't find it easy to make friends or to talk openly.  I can't even seem to tell my parents how I really feel and have kept a lot of things from my closest friends over the past year.  Sometimes I pinch my leg to stop myself from crying during conversations because I don't want to show that I'm upset.  I know it makes it harder for people to understand me when I don't give much away.  And it's pretty lonely.  There can be a place for putting on a front - not everyone needs to know all the details of my life.  I'm quite a private person and don't like others being nosey or gossiping about me.  It also becomes confusing when you get so many different pieces of advice, most well meaning, but not all helpful.  And then there are those who ask 'how are you?', but don't actually want an answer longer than 'fine'.

Often my problem is that I let other people do the majority of the talking.  I regularly come away from meeting up with people feeling frustrated that I wasn't given the chance to say what was on my mind.  Sometimes, like in work meetings, it just feels easier to sit back and be silent rather than try and get a word in.  Perhaps I need to make more of an effort in pushing myself to speak up.  Yes, I'm quiet.  But I have something to say, and I want the space to say it.  I'm just not very good at making the first move.

Sometimes the worst moments are when you do open up to someone and tell them exactly how you feel, and they don't respond the way you want them to.  They say nothing.  Or say something unintentionally hurtful or unhelpful.  And therein lies something of the complexity of human nature and relationships.  Who can really say they have a friend or relative that meets their every need, all of the time?  It's like being at the fairground on the dodgems, bumping onto other cars, sometimes accidentally and sometimes on purpose.  We all collide from time to time.  I think I'm feeling particularly bumped and bruised at the moment, and extra sensitive to how other people are with me.  Perhaps I need a 'fragile - handle with care' sticker to wear?