tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29715502004659944542024-03-13T16:09:04.506+00:00groovy kind of me"Que sei eu do que serei, eu que não sei o que sou?
Ser o que penso? Mas penso ser tanta coisa!"redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.comBlogger1588125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-2499859485149960912020-05-03T19:36:00.001+01:002020-05-03T19:36:06.599+01:00Smile vs lifeJust saw a pic if me when I was 17/18 - big giant grin and an obvious happiness that is almost palpable. It's extraordinary looking at pics up to that age and seeing it over and over again (ok except when I was 13 and hated everything. Ah teenagers!). It used to define me, that smile, it was a guarantee, people described me by it - always smiling, such a happy person to be around... and it was true. <div>
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When did I stop smiling, when did the worries take over? I was always an introvert, so it's not the social side of things, but there is this constant worry, this burden of responsibility, this desperate need for planning and for things to go right (aka according to plan) that wasn't there before. And it seems it's here to stay, stronger, darker by the day. It feels like I move between worrying, being anxious and depressed and being organised, planning and cooing... but the smile isn't there in either... occasionally yes, and it's real and Shows happiness but it's fleeting and carries no weight. </div>
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When did it all change and why?</div>
redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-32934152327258976592020-05-03T11:41:00.007+01:002020-05-03T11:41:58.562+01:00Lockdown has caugt up with me...<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="direction: ltr; font-size: 12pt; unicode-bidi: embed;">... moved from bed to sofa and it took all my energy. Can't seem to hold that silent depressed cry anymore and that's all I feel like doing. Feel useless, haven't managed any of my plans for these weeks and am massively struggling to focus.</span></div>
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<span style="direction: ltr; font-size: 12pt; unicode-bidi: embed;">I am seen as the strong one so noone really asks 'how are you coping?', it's just a rhetorical greeting. I've checked in with my friends here and abroad, always in that one-way system. Bf is going through quarantine smoothly so I am not sure he notices. Because i still function.</span></div>
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<span style="direction: ltr; font-size: 12pt; unicode-bidi: embed;">I clean, I cook, I work/volunteer... auto-pilotting my life this last week with this knot in the throat, silencing this despair. Feeling lost, ultimately lost and not being able to brush it off, bounce back. I am free falling into the wallow... </span></div>
redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-24990203120718179992019-03-15T22:56:00.000+00:002019-03-15T22:56:10.731+00:00Can your body self-sabotage?Like most women that want/need to go on a diet and exercise, I could easily br crowned Queen of excuses and procrastination. However this time I was determined, or so I thought, but then hayfever, sinus and a cold all hit at once like storm Gareth outside. Proper nose blocked, no sleep, constant sneezing and that not-so-lovely pressure in the forehead. Now I wonder, is it possible that it's all underlyingly psychological? That my body is self sabotaging?redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-89454686080828561352019-02-05T15:45:00.001+00:002019-02-05T15:45:25.143+00:00Lists...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e66tE1yhsCk/XFmtjowSjMI/AAAAAAAAESk/iOvqKiuK-Y84PGOxtCHruwVI9aei8grgwCLcBGAs/s1600/635865082981227503-1629808849_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="408" data-original-width="540" height="241" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e66tE1yhsCk/XFmtjowSjMI/AAAAAAAAESk/iOvqKiuK-Y84PGOxtCHruwVI9aei8grgwCLcBGAs/s320/635865082981227503-1629808849_1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is so me and I certainly overuse the Notes app... from work related items to house chores, from places to visit to shopping lists... I have it all.<br />
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Most days it helps me relax (just writing it down is helpful) and there is an undeniable breathing space whenever a task is deleted (digital) or highlighted (paper), but at times it can feel daunting too. The main list is somewhat too big, doesn't seem to clear up and that overwhelming sensation starts creeping in.<br />
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Some people find it obsessive, others relate to the core, but the fact is that is gives me some sense of control (albeit not always balanced!). What about you? Are you a list maker?redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-3911929466314059372019-01-10T17:01:00.001+00:002019-01-10T17:01:36.658+00:00I have a feeling...It's not a great year so far when you sit at Tesco's carpark crying your eyes out for over an hour...redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-61293530358499190032018-10-18T13:53:00.000+01:002018-10-18T13:53:03.622+01:00Repeat until it sinks inIt's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok.It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok.<br />
It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok. It's ok not to be ok.redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-21564148081379619582018-10-05T01:38:00.000+01:002018-10-05T01:38:11.405+01:00It's that time of the year...when weather changes, christmas is around the corner, work piles up, i can't make time for social life and i spiral into a black hole. Every year, the same story. Around this time I stop being ok... I want to cry more ofetn than i don't, i hate my body and no clothes fit me, i want to eat my bodyweight in chocolate and i feel slightly angry with everything. I always recognise it early - the black dog. Stillt it creeps in and I am powerless to it. It starts with the blue mood, then the annoying knot on the throat like a swallowed cry, the feeling of loneliness, an urge to scream but a mute voice... and I am not OK. Again.redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-33175439452277227862017-12-31T20:35:00.000+00:002017-12-31T20:35:15.149+00:00NYEI am not sure I ever liked NYE, but I like it less this year. I am ill and feel terribly down. I wanted to do something different, something fun like going dancing or going to a party or simply watching fireworks. Instead I'll be home, have a beautiful meal and watch something silly on tv... but that's what we did earlier and last night and last week... I know I should be thankful that I get to spend this evening with my parents and boyfriend and that I could drop by a friend's house... i am grateful for all that, really, but i just wanted sonething different, something fun...redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-45528308347368767472017-11-10T15:13:00.000+00:002017-11-10T15:13:01.790+00:00CoincidencesToday this blog was needed which is not the best thing... I am not sure if it's being under the weather for 4 weeks now, work, christmas approaching or what, but i was totally overwhelmed this morning. I felt utterly alone, without anyone to call and say 'hey i am not ok.' I seriously considered calling my old therapist but thay felt too extreme. I wasn't that bad, not today. And i know i have friends that would have been there for me, but i don't like to bother them with these black moments, i don't like to put them in that situation where they are powerless to help because i don't actually know what's wrong.<br />
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A crying fit, lonely, 'put your head between your knees' anxiety attack, whatever you wanna call it, it happened and there's no shame in admitting it. I sort of pulled myself together (don't I always?!), got ready, kissed the furbabies and drove off... and then, as a sign, a coincidence or just pure luck, basket case was blaring on the radio and i couldn't help to laugh out loud, shaking off all (well most) of those bad feelings.<br />
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It's true when they say the black dog never truly goes away, which is why i always acknowledge it and admit it, but then again I adopted a gorgeous lovely black GSD so black dogs must be a good thing!!!<br />
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<a href="https://youtu.be/NUTGr5t3MoY">https://youtu.be/NUTGr5t3MoY</a>redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-47082412996531208842016-05-19T16:40:00.003+01:002016-05-19T16:40:42.664+01:00BaggageI would never delete this blog, it carries too much of my soul. But I am not sure it still represents me or just drags my baggage along. I want to write again, yet I somewhat freeze when I log in here. There's a weight, a time, a situation associated with every word written that stops me moving forward. I instantly get pulled to a darker place when I am here, which is strange as most memories here are happy, deep though ones... I guess I'll just leave this here, so I can remember and check in if needed be. Because sometimes you need that... to check in to your past self, to retrace the steps of the learning journey to this moment. So maybe this is goodbye or see you soon, maybe time has come to write a new chapter and leave the past where it belongs.redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-42169306111909291232016-01-23T19:08:00.000+00:002016-01-23T19:08:19.484+00:00Silent wordsAlmost a year went by without posts, then 2 about new year resolutions... I want to get back to writing, I crave it, but the words are locked inside and still fail meredordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-67997843655638479722015-12-31T23:20:00.001+00:002016-01-02T17:41:39.667+00:00Resolutions amidst fearsTo get thinner and healthier... To attend more craft fairs... To get more freelance jobs in different types of events... To read more... To organise my own events... To dance... To travel with P... To have a girls only weekend with I and C... To go walking more with the doggies... To start writing again... To be happy!redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-81941003300930282032015-12-31T22:06:00.000+00:002015-12-31T22:06:07.132+00:00Update for 2016...http://groovykindofme.blogspot.co.uk/2011/01/um-destes-dias.htmlredordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-69583062978068251562015-01-29T23:29:00.001+00:002015-01-29T23:29:48.678+00:00some days are just shit...redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-19470223474597350982015-01-27T19:38:00.003+00:002015-01-27T19:38:55.594+00:00Murro no estômagoJust re-read one of my 'draft only' posts (now 4 months old) and it hit me like a brick to the face... so accurate, so poignant and so helpless...redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-14237732736206560102015-01-27T19:32:00.000+00:002015-01-27T19:32:19.871+00:00Se a Jenninha pode...também posso mostrar o mamalhal sem suporte ao mundo!<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ctOkWv5FtC8/VMfnt2YHUoI/AAAAAAAADaw/Ut9TCp-NkRo/s1600/sag_awards_2015_looks_jennifer_aniston_1-z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ctOkWv5FtC8/VMfnt2YHUoI/AAAAAAAADaw/Ut9TCp-NkRo/s1600/sag_awards_2015_looks_jennifer_aniston_1-z.jpg" height="320" width="249" /></a></div>
redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-34369242738444284992014-10-07T19:34:00.003+01:002014-10-07T19:34:52.296+01:00I guess that's the wayWhenever I am feeling worse, more depressed or needing to talk, I tend to crawl back into my shell. However, every now and again I reach out to friends and end up listening to their problems and conforting them. Maybe in handsight my issues are not that important after all...redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-58062122423823279892014-09-14T18:47:00.002+01:002014-09-14T18:47:44.101+01:00hard to come bysometimes all you need is a friend, but...redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-23394324236692276482014-09-08T22:08:00.003+01:002014-09-08T22:08:47.223+01:00oopsEver knew exactly what you wanted and when achieved, realised you might have been totally wrong?redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-1405749077415365972014-08-14T22:28:00.000+01:002014-08-14T22:28:15.233+01:00"To die would be an awfully great adventure"Esta coisa de nos morrerem estrelas famosas que nunca conhecemos pode-nos passar ao lado ou pode ter o impacto de um murro no estômago. A Bacall faz uma falta danada a um mundo de memória cada vez mais curta e sem grande noção do que é ter classe natural, mas o Robin Williams era o meu inigualável John Keating. Se isso não bastasse ele era o meu Pan e quem me conhece entende o que isso significa.<br />
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Até breve capitão.redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-62199605701161009782014-07-17T14:58:00.002+01:002014-07-17T14:58:45.902+01:00Facto #52I hold Mix because I need cuddles, not himredordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-69488770230996372182014-06-24T23:14:00.002+01:002014-06-24T23:14:28.983+01:00in need...over a year since leaving therapy, i now need it more than ever before...<br />
<br />redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-6528489464124734242014-06-20T18:38:00.001+01:002014-06-20T18:38:14.201+01:00Throw in the toweli feel lost and anguished like a teenager that questions even the existence... my world has been shaken, torn and broken yet again... the past that i thought was dead, was simply buried and has returned to once again cause damage, kill life and hurt those i care for... i feel helpless and defeated more than ever before...redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-77184386187893187912014-06-20T16:06:00.005+01:002014-06-20T16:07:11.708+01:00esta coisa de recomeçar, reconstruir, partir do zero torna-se cansativa quando repetida vezes de mais. deixa marcas. vai recalcando e espremendo uma acidez que corrói por dentro.<br />
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deixem-me ser amarga e cínica e tudo o mais que me vou tornando... tenho razões, acreditem que tenho razões que justifiquem isso e mais.redordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2971550200465994454.post-67447913180077410832014-05-30T22:07:00.001+01:002014-05-30T22:07:49.188+01:00...alone in a sea of peopleredordeadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12857795571902132909noreply@blogger.com0