My Halloween Wish List (As Christmas is Too Far Away)

Okay, Universe. I'm ready. I'm ready to let go, a la Sandra Bullock in Practical Magic; I'm giving up on finding my ideal (read: "close enough") mate on my own and sending my needs to you. It isn't nearly as quirky and overly specific as Sandra's character in PM, which is why I don't understand how I haven't found this bloke yet, but whatever. I'm over it.  Let Fate send me the man of my dreams (and God give me the vision to recognize him as such)...

 

Physical traits: I know it's shallow to start with this but chemistry is chemistry and I absolutely have to find the guy physically attractive (and he has to feel the same about me). Specifically he should have: dark hair, light eyes, athletic build (especially the shoulders and arms), taller than me by at least 3 inches, glasses are a plus, and a decent fashion sense (but isn't so vain as to think he's a gift to women)

Or someone like him.
I'll even wave the dark hair requirement.

Personality Traits: Um, I've had to break this down for you, Universe, because personality is a pretty vague category, so how about this:

1. Conversation Interests:

• philosophy,
• literature,
• MST3K-type comedy,
• Monty Python,
• Paranormal (Apocalypse, Zombies, etc, etc),
• basically someone who has something to talk to me about (and has the intelligence and wherewithal to back it up with facts and data--in a non-arrogant way)

www.coach2clarity.com

Yes, things happening. In the brain area.

2. Likes:

• Adventure (the more spontaneous and extraordinary, the better);
• Sex (on a somewhat regular basis would be nice);
• Traveling (especially to new places);
• Dogs (bonus if he has one for Murphy to play with);
• Nature and exercise (but not a body-builder...ew);
• Kids (and the possibility of having a couple)
• Laughing;
• Drinking (on occasion);
• Saturday all-day lie-ins (love not getting out of my PJs once in a while);
• Netflix;
• spicy foods;
• Washing up the dishes (if I cook);
• and of course, ME

I mean, come on. Look how cute I am!

3. Relationship Requirements:

• WANTS to be with me and seeks me out on his own
• Desires to go out with me but who is also happy sitting at home and having a pint on occasion;
• continues to win my heart--not every single day but regularly enough--so I always know I am loved;
• loves and loves completely;
• isn't afraid or petrified by the thought of 'forever';
• is willing to consider said forever with me

NOPE; THERE ARE ONLY CLICHE

OR FLIPPING TWILIGHT PICTURES

ON GOOGLE IMAGES---NO.

NO CLICHE B.S. JUST REAL.

 

4. Dealing with Me Requirements:

• will hold me when I cry for no reason,
• won't hold that fact against me (or any other moodiness I may exhibit);
• recognizes that every person is fighting her own battle and seeks to understand mine, and me understand his

http://www.masterfile.com/

So, this, but with us instead
and no weird website name following us.

I hope I've been specific enough for you, Universe (but not too specific that this guy doesn't exist). I know I have some things of my own to finish before I can devote myself to a proper relationship, but if you could at least send him in my general direction sometime soon, I'd really appreciate it.

 

Patience has never exactly been my virtue.

I'm dying!!!! (No, not really)

I will begin this by saying, “Pardon whatever I write; I have drunk a half bottle of Riesling (white wine) already.”

Now that that’s out of the way, on with the blog!

It’s the first day of my 30s and oddly enough, it’s been…normal. No, that’s not entirely true. I have spent the day with some amazing people at the PLUS summer camp in Chelmsford who made the morning really special. But I always imagined 30 to be a really important birthday. When Corey turned 30, I threw him a surprise party. I don’t really expect or have that kind of expectation here.

But when I woke up this morning I didn’t feel any different. In fact, I feel…liberated. Really. I feel like I’ve crossed into some new realm of existence where my past indiscretions don’t really matter and I can finally, truly, completely be myself.

You see, even while being in England, I have regressed into all those aspects I hated about myself previously. I became needy, complacent, agreeable (to a fault). I didn’t stand up for myself or say what I wanted from someone. Last year, I would have immediately broken off a relationship the moment I felt like just another girl, but this year, I let it ride. Endured the unhappiness and uncertainty. For another three months. And I wasn’t even the one who broke it off. Sad, but true.

But now that it’s over, now that I am, again, alone on my birthday, I remember what it was I came to England to do—be me. No, England does not have any special powers that allow me to be someone else (see paragraph above), but what it does have is possibility. I love that I am American, especially being overseas. We may bitch and moan about how we are treated domestically but when Americans are abroad, we have the best protection a birthright can buy. But I don’t feel comfortable in America. I don’t feel like I make sense (if that makes any sense). It’s strange when you move away because when you go back (as I’ve noticed from my mates who’ve left England and returned), you don’t quite fit. The whole “square peg, round hole” analogy again (it’s fairly useful in any situation, really). And I know that if I were to return to America, regardless of the state, I would feel…different. Such a vague word, but it’s the best I can muster at the moment (again, half a bottle of Riesling and no dinner; don’t judge too harshly).

That’s not my point, though. I love the US with all the heart an American can love it, but again, not my point. My point is that, at the dawn of this new decade in my life, where people may ACTUALLY take me seriously, I am embarking, yet again, on another life cycle. I reread all of my blogs tonight, and I remember just how full of possibility I was last year. So, on the first day of a new decade, I make this new resolution: to be myself. No frills, no hiding. No accommodating or standing on the sidelines. To be whoever I am, unashamedly. It will be tough. Hell, I will probably have to read this three or four times to remind myself, but I am pretty fucking awesome, and to deny someone that awesomeness is to deny them, well, me.

So, that’s my resolution, my 30s mantra, if you will. Stop fussing, stop worrying, remember what it’s like to live. And laugh. And love. With all my being. Because if I do anything, it’s feel in extremes. And I’m beginning to feel extremely tipsy right now, to be honest, so off to bed, and a new decade of life! :)

The Cycle of the Seasons...

I would like to apologize in advance as there are no pictures to accompany this post. There could be, but I honestly could not be bothered searching them out and linking them. Make of it what you will....

 

I am still amazed at the way God works sometimes. You think you’re led down a path for one reason only to discover the true one much later (and often with a much more profound effect). I thought I was coming to England to “find” myself, in the sense that I would find a place to belong, a culture more suited to my tastes. What I found was exactly the same thing as Ocean Springs but with different accents. People are people wherever you go, it seems, and what I left behind in Ocean Springs is no worse than here, only different.

What I have found, though, is an understanding about something which has plagued my life since I was born. In developing my essays and delving into the psychoanalytic elements of myths, I now know why I was so immediately drawn to apply at Essex. I didn’t even apply to any other universities in England once I found the Myth, Literature, and Unconscious program. Aside from the fact that I was so interested in the topic of the self during my graduate classes at South Alabama, what I’ve come to realize is that I was meant to be here. I wasn’t meant to find myself; I was meant to find Persephone.

Throughout my studies here, I have been eternally drawn to the combined archetype of the Kore/Persephone, the “Eternal Maiden,” and her older counterpart Demeter, the “Great Mother.” That the entirety of a woman’s existence could represented by one myth fascinates me and fits with so much of what I’ve already believed about females: regardless of what we nurture, we are bound to nurture, and it is the realization and actualization of this nurturing aspect which transitions us from girlhood to womanhood. But there’s more to Demeter (the Great Mother) and Persephone (the Maiden) than I realized. So much more that contrary to what I was originally feeling, I cannot wait to see my own mother next week because, well, because she’s my mother.

My mother and I have a very strained relationship. That I normally wouldn’t admit to this where she could acknowledge it is another aspect of the Persephone-Demeter relationship, but regardless. On one hand, we are extremely close, always have been. Growing up without a stable father, she was both mother and father to me. It wasn’t until I hit puberty that I began to separate myself from her. We are very different people, so much so that we rarely have conversations beyond family life and drama. However, we are also very, very alike, as most daughters realize about themselves as they grow older.

This dichotomy of my relationship with my mother is not abnormal. I used to think it was, but after this year, I realize acknowledging and accepting the normality of it is the hard part. You see, Demeter and Persephone are more than just representatives of the Eternal Feminine. They are representatives of the process every woman must go through with their own mother and daughter (if they have one). The reason my mother and I have such a strained relationship is that we are simply in the Winter Stage of our relationship.

That would probably make more sense if I were to explain the myth a little bit. Anybody with a basic knowledge of Greek myths knows how Persephone was stolen by Hades, and Demeter, as the terrestrial Earth Goddess, started the first winter when she regressed into a deep depression until Persephone was returned to her, which represents spring. But there is much, MUCH more to it than that.

I won’t go into it too much, but just from the little bit I’ve read, the stages of the myth are stages of womanhood. Demeter and Persephone (pre-Hades) are mother and girl as mother’s self-object. The girl is a reflection of the mother, which is why the mother loves her and attaches herself so tightly; to lose the girl is to lose the self. This could be seen as the Summer Stage of the myth: everything is perfect and blossoming and bright because everybody is naively happy, just like most young summer romances.

Lamenting Demeter and lost Persephone are representatives of the daughter moving into womanhood; think puberty until mid-thirties. Demeter’s depression is less that she’s lost her daughter and more that she’s lost herself; she has defined herself as “Persephone’s Mother” for so long and without her is without an identity. Persephone, too, is no longer “Demeter’s Daughter” now that she’s in the Underworld and has “eaten Hades’ pomegranate seed,” (yeah, because that’s not sexual, at all…)but she also isn’t a mother yet, either. She’s stuck in this hazy place of unknowing who she is and who she belongs to. This is the formidable “Queen of the Underworld” that she represents in other myths; not knowing who you are can create a very angry and vengeful state. Neither woman is happy and has hidden herself from others: a.k.a. Winter Stage.

I relate all this because I’ve realized that I am in my “Queen of the Underworld” state. I don’t yet have a purpose beyond existing, which really kind of sucks when you think about it because if we don’t have a reason for living, then why live at all? But knowing this helps me relate to my mother in a different way because I know she’s in her “lamenting Demeter” state. I’ve always been there for my mother as her reflection, doing and accomplishing things she always wanted to. Her “living vicariously through me” is not an unsaid statement in my family. But it’s because she hasn’t found herself yet. Because she was so proud of me and my accomplishments, she willingly identified herself as “Brittany’s Mother”; once I wanted to separate myself from her and become “Brittany,” she lost the identity she had held onto for so long. Anything that creates such a trauma is bound to make you attack the cause with anger and resentment. And because she fights my desire to separate myself (and because, to some extent, I have the narcissistic need for her to practically worship me like she did), I resent her resentment. We’ve been this way since I was 14; hence the strained relationship.

But recognizing that this is a natural and immortal way of dealing with each other has made me realize how much I really do still need her. We may not get along but we’re destined not to…yet. Not until she becomes Bautro (I forget the actually name, but she’s a woman in the myth who brings Demeter out of her depression by flaunting the freedom and happiness one could have while being an old crone) and I become Demeter myself will we find common ground. Regardless of whether my mother ever finds freedom and happiness in being an “old crone,” I will always need her, no matter who I represent. She’s the only one who can help me find my own Persephone when I’ve finally become a Demeter, too. And maybe that’s the mystery Demeter discovers and teaches at Eleusius: mother and daughter are forever the same woman, just at different stages; it’s the overcoming and acceptance of those differences that will lead to a higher state of love. And if there’s one thing my mother has always had for me, it’s love.

It Isn't Easy Being Level...(Sung in the Style of Kermit the Frog)

March 2001-March 2011 has come to be known in my life as the “Decade of Death.” Considering I’m turning 30 this year that means that one third of my life has been spent attending funerals or waiting for the next one. I won’t bore you with exactly who all died, but know that they were all important to me.  I guess it seems fitting that the last death of this horrible decade was of one of THE most important people in my life—my grandma.

Although I kept a strong face for the rest of my family (big girls don’t cry, right?), I folded inside myself. I know my students were supposed to be preparing for the state writing exam during the 10 days between her death and memorial, but I don’t remember what I did to prep them or if we just watched movies for two weeks straight.

What I do know is that being the “strong one” took a toll on me. After leaving my grandmother’s memorial, I fell onto my sofa and didn’t move for four hours. I wanted to not think about anything. I would have stopped breathing if my body didn’t do it automatically for me. 

© Izoneguy | Dreamstime Stock Photos

I'm just gonna lie right here...

My poor boyfriend at the time had no idea how to handle it, but I could not articulate the depth of my grief. Luckily, I had already been seeing a psychotherapist and was fairly quickly able to talk through my feelings of emptiness. She suggested I start taking something to get me over this hump and my GP prescribed me Pristiq (desvenlafaxine—sister drug to Effexor, or venlafaxine).

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Pristiq_pills.jpg#filelinks 

America! Fuck Yeah!

See, what I’ve left out is that I was seeing a psychotherapist because I was already feeling like a martyr and didn’t know how to escape my martyrdom (see my previous post). I had been dealing with persecution complexes, extreme anxiety in new situations, mood swings, neediness. After back-to-back deaths of two of the most important figures in my life (my 14-year-old dog, Luna, died three months before my grandma), I couldn’t handle my own issues and my double-endured grief. My GP was up on all this info and after my psychotherapist referred me, for medication he put me on the best stuff there was. Literally within an hour of taking my first dose, I felt like every problem I ever had was gone (and stupid, to boot).

© Tina Rencelj | Dreamstime Stock Photos

Fuck you bitches. I’m out!

All those little annoyances, all those little traumas I carried with me every day just evaporated. I could smile again. I could breathe. I had finally stripped off that last layer of cocoon to fly through life the way I always wanted to. The Pristiq was so great that I never considered coming off of it. I never thought I’d stay on it for the rest of my life, but I knew I felt like myself again. It wasn’t until I moved overseas (where Pristiq isn’t available) that I considered getting off the medication, but now that I am, I’m frightened all over again.

To start, here are all the documented side-effects of discontinuing Pristiq/Effexor (in order of likelihood):

·         dysphoric mood

·         irritability

·         agitation

·         dizziness

·         anxiety

·         sensory disturbances (e.g., paresthesia, such as electric shock sensations, known as “brain zaps”)

·         confusion

·         headache

·         lethargy

·         involuntary crying and/or laughing

·         insomnia

·         hypomania

·         tinnitus

·         seizures

Doesn’t that just sound awesome? When I attempted to quit Pristiq cold turkey, those first five symptoms emerged within 36 hours of my last dose. I held out for three days, but I finally had to go to the doctor and beg for help because I seriously thought my world was ending. 

© Photoeuphoria | Dreamstime Stock Photos

Don’t drop it! Don’t drop it! Don’t drop it!

After being bitched out by a rude nurse practioner (because the one thing you should do to a suicidal person is make them feel even worse about themselves), the UK doctor suggested I go on a daily dose of 75mg of Effexor (as I was on 100mg of Pristiq) and see about weaning off after 3 months of balancing myself out. Just like the Pristiq, I was my normal self again within moments of taking a dose. 

The three months came and went, and now I sit here, one week into weaning off, wondering if I have the willpower (or the mental stability) to do this. Since I’m no longer taking an extended-release tablet, the medication only stays in my system about five hours, which means that if I take my AM pill at 9ish, I’m ready to murder someone around 3. Sounds about right, actually, as I have always said I would be happiest in a society where I could siesta in the afternoon.

© Geoffrey Kuchera | Dreamstime Stock Photos

Two things will happen if you wake me; you won't see the second...

But what worries me more is that even when I take two doses a day (I’m on an alternating schedule: 75mg one day, 35mg the next), my brain is bringing back all those old anxieties. Stupid things are starting to get me all riled up inside. I’m feeling insanely lonely and quick to anger. I don’t want to come off a prescription that I might need to function, but considering I don’t have a psychotherapist over here (and even if I did, he/she wouldn’t have known me long  enough), I have nobody to help me make that determination. I know these horrible thoughts and actions aren’t me…or are they?

© Ken Griffith | Dreamstime Stock Photos

Wait—is that me? Or you? Or YOU? I’m so confused!

I always said I was like my mother in that I feel only in extremes: extreme anger, extreme anxiety, extreme jealous. But also extreme love, extreme happiness, extreme excitement. Since I’ve been on Pristiq and now Effexor, I feel no extremes. Just…contentment. Is that normal? Is that what people are supposed to feel? Or am I just in a medicated haze? I’m making another appointment with the health center to discuss my withdrawal symptoms but if websites like this and this are to believed, no matter how gradual my reduction, I’m going to experience withdrawal.

If I have to stay on Effexor forever, so be it. I just want what everybody wants: to experience life in a normal, well-adjusted way. I would just rather not be medicated to do so. :/

An Open Letter to 2013

Dear 2013,

Can I keep you forever?

Seriously. Although you started out a bit bumpy, you turned out to be one of the best years of my life. I started out this year writing a blog where my only resolution for the year was to "Take More Risks (let's aim for three big ones) and Be Passionate Enough to Enjoy It." I didn't plan which risks to take. Nor did I go through the year going, "Oh, I took one risk today, just need two more!" I just kind of made knee-jerk decisions that in another life (read: in 2012 and before) I never would have made. And they all (for the most part) turned out well. Really well. For example:

Risk #1: Leaving OSHS
Now, 2013, I know I had planned on leaving OSHS for at least the two years before you came along. But give yourself some credit. If you remember, 2012 was supposed to be my last year, and it wasn't. I stayed, which turned out to be necessary considering my reasons for leaving completely changed by the time March rolled around.

Once Corey and I broke up, I could have easily pulled my resignation. I did it in 2012. The moment I posted on Facebook that I was single again, I was even offered some perks in order to stay. But something in me, something about you, 2013, made me decide to leave still. And boy was that the greatest decision I had ever made.

HP

No work. All sleep. Rock on.

If I hadn't left OSHS, I wouldn't have been looking at teaching overseas. Which led me to Chicago. Which led me to Across the Pond. Which led me to Essex and the UK. I seriously would not be here right now had I not taken that risk. And it was a scary risk. I had no clue what I was going to do once that check stopped coming from OSSD, but I was ready to experience whatever it was, no matter how crappy it would end up being. But I had faith in you, 2013; I knew you wouldn't let me down. And you didn't. :)

Risk #2: Joining the Soul Sisters
I have a strained relationship with women. There's another blog coming about that, but when my psychologist told me I needed women in my life, I didn't believe her at first. I had been burned by so many female friends in the past that I just didn't want to open myself up to that kind of hurt again. It hurts a woman much more deeply when a woman betrays her than when her man does. And I was tired of that hurt.

                                                            How to parent a teen

 It's my vest, isn't it? Fuckin vests...

 

But, 2013, I had promised you to take more risks, so when Heather Eason (one of those people whom God has decided I need in my life--and I must agree with him) offered for me to join the new session of the women's bible study group at school, I decided to do it. I wish I had joined earlier! That first session was like finding a puzzle piece you didn't realize was missing. Or one you had just assumed was gone forever so stopped worrying about it.

Everyone was so welcoming and warm. My experiences in the past with church had left something to be desired, but this group was nothing like that. We joked, we confessed, we praised--both God and each other. I didn't realize how much I had been missing by willingly excluding female friends from my life. And because of you, 2013, because of whatever it was about you that gave me strength to go in there gave me friends more dear to me than I ever would have thought they'd be (and led me to make friends easier later in the year).

Risk #3: Chicago

2013, I'm just going to say this now: you started off shite for everyone. Maybe you were just trying to find your bearings, but man, did you just take a giant dump on the lot of us. Tressie, for example, went through some massive heartaches those first few months, yet she still managed the strength to pack up her and the baby and move to Dublin for a job. How awesome is that?! I realized then that I was being too narrow-minded about my future. If Tressie can move herself and an infant--not even a toddler--to Ireland all on her own, what's stopping me from going somewhere outside of the US? Not that I'm better than her in any way; not at all. It was just that Tressie's experience made me realize any reason I had was just a lame excuse. What did I have holding me back? I could totally go overseas! But what could I do? Teach English, of course!

 

So, I started searching and found Teaching House. I originally wanted to go to Boston but I would have missed my grandfather's 70th birthday. The only other place that looked interesting was Chicago. So I did it. And because it was so expensive, I ended up using AirBnB (a homestay type website) and stayed with an awesome couple and just ended up having the most awesome time. Again, 2013, not something I would have EVER considered doing prior to you coming along.

I fell in love with Chicago AND I was able to reconnect with Karen Murphy, one of my close high school friends. I made some great friends through Teaching House, and it was generally a great experience all around. I even used the road trip as a way to reconnect with Courtney in Wyoming, my cousins in Colorado, and Ann in Texas. But, 2013, what Chicago helped me do most, was reignite that passion for living again.

It wasn't until I was crossing into Louisiana to go back to Mississippi that I realized how heavy I had been living. Finally, I could breathe again. Life was exciting again. And full of prospects! I don't know why I had become so jaded, but you, 2013, made me remember what it was like to be...well...me.

Risk #4: ENGLAND
And the biggest risk you helped me take 2013, the one I never in my right mind would have considered doing before you came along was applying to Essex.

I had found Essex through Across the Pond, a website I had found in my search for overseas teaching vacancies. When I saw there wasn't a deadline and the application process was so easy, I decided that the worst they could say is no and I wouldn't be out of anything, not even an application fee. But then they didn't. In fact, not only did they not say no; they gave me a  £2000 scholarship! I knew before I knew that I wouldn't say no. How could I?! It was like winning at life. Here I was, with the opportunity to not only go back to college for an MA in Literature, but study something I was really interested in AND do it in another country. Like I said above, what was stopping me?

And so here I am, almost a fortnight into 2014 in the UK, wondering and hoping what the next year will bring. If 2014 is even half as great as you were, it's going to be a good year. But I'll always remember you fondly. I promise. :)

Thanks for everything,
Brittany

Confessions of a Reformed Martyr

So, you’ve decided to give up your ways as a martyr and rejoin society as a normal person? But you don’t quite know how to get there? Well, have no fear, Brittany is here!


I know, I know...no cape.

What are my qualifications? Why, dear friend, much like you (or someone you know for those of you non-martyrs reading this), I, too, was once a martyr. I had all the symptoms and outbursts. I even went through DTs whenever there wasn’t someone around to give me sympathy. The worst of it all, I didn’t even realize I was a martyr, at least not to the extent that I was. I thought that, because I was less dramatic than other martyrs I knew, I was fine. But sometimes, oh, sometimes that mirror looks a whole lot like somebody else when it’s you looking in it.

Colourbox

And this woman just realized what mirrors really do...

How did I become reformed? It wasn’t easy. And, depending on whom you ask, I haven’t finished yet. That’s to be expected, though; martyrdom is like drug addiction. The attention makes you feel, for a short while, like you actually matter in the universe and nothing else can make you feel that way. But, as soon as you realize what you’ve done, you feel like shit and can’t seem to undo any of the damage you’ve caused. So you cause more to cover up what you’ve done wrong, and the cycle continues…

But, I’m working on it. And to do so, I’ve had to take up a four mantras. Yes, only four. They may sound self-righteous at first, but believe me, they make all the difference in the world in how you perceive people and how other people perceive you. So, crack out your notebook, grasshopper; these are going to be on the test.

#1: Take responsibility for the decisions YOU make because YOU chose to make them.

I’ve rewritten this mantra about six times to get it all in one statement, and I think I finally have it. Martyrs are notorious for blaming others for the decisions they make, especially when something bad happens because of that decision. “Well, so-and-so wanted me to try this great shellfish appetizer even though I have an allergy; I didn’t want her to be upset with me.”

 Hitch, 2005

Yeah, it was so great it took my breath away.

That’s a goofy example, but I’m using it to make a point. I did things like this so often. It was a learned trait that I never knew was wrong, but once someone pointed it out, it was like I had won life. You are the only person who can decide what to make YOU do. Yes, even when a gun is put to your head, you make that final decision to live or die. How can you learn from a mistake that you refuse to admit you made? How will things ever get better if you can’t stop and admit what YOU’ve done wrong?

As with any other recovery program, the first step is admitting you have a problem, or in this case, taking responsibility for the ones you’ve caused.

#2: Life is a sum of the good things and bad things…don’t dwell on the bad.

I should have changed my name to Chicken Little when I was in college. Even though some serious shit was actually going wrong in my life—my then boyfriend had been shipped off to Iraq, my mother and I were become estranged, my work and college lives were completely stressing me out—nobody could see past all the daily crises of which roommate didn’t wash the dishes or why I was being required to do some new task at work. To us martyrs, the world is always ending. It’s never your fault that it’s ending, nor can you see how just one or two readjustments on your end will fix the problem; it’s just ending and that’s that.

CJ Maltby

Nuts are flying at my face!

 

But in reality, life happens. To borrow a quote from Doctor Who (are you surprised?) “Life is made up of good things and bad things. The good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.” Once you stop and realize that this crisis is just one pebble in your otherwise calm pond (or tumultuous ocean, whichever your life may seem), then it is so much easier to enjoy the beautiful accidents in life. Or make some beautiful accidents, as in the case of my life over the last six months.

Yes, this is MUCH easier said than done, and to be honest, this is where I’m struggling the most in my own reformation. But I see the light more and more every day, and it’s beautiful.

#3: Nobody owes you anything.

Oh, I struggled with whether this one or the next one should be the most important (and thus last on the list), but since this one is easier to master, it got bumped. Martyrdom is all about making others feel guilty because they “owe you” for something you’ve done for them or given them or sometimes just because you exist. I wish I could go back in time and smack myself every time I made Corey feel like he owed me something just for being my boyfriend. Nobody should ever be made to feel like they are indebted to you in that way, unless they are actually indebted to you because you’ve lent them money or an object of some sort—that’s totally different.

Hardrock Nights

Then, sick Enforcer on them

 

Yes, you are a special snowflake on this special planet that shouldn’t even have the amount of sentient life that it does, but that does NOT mean that all the other sentient beings owe you something in return. And that ESPECIALLY doesn’t mean you should do things for people just SO they owe you in the future.

As a martyr, you look at everyone else in terms of what they can do for you instead of who they are. Once you stop doing that, once you just allow yourself to do things for other people because you want to (see #1), your relationships will be so much fuller and happier. I didn’t realize how many real friends I had in my life until I took on this mantra, and I can only hope I’m becoming more and more of a real friend to them. It’s amazing how great life can be (see #2) when you start seeing people as people instead of your “servants.”

#4: YOU owe nothing to anyone.

This one is much harder to accept, and it relates back to #1 but in a much deeper context. I don’t know if it’s a cultural thing or human thing, but whenever someone has done something for us, we often feel like we should “get them back.” Many of us do this with our jobs where we feel like we owe our boss to do a good job or with our friends where we feel like we should give up our own moments of happiness for theirs. I felt this way for most of my life. My family went through pains to take care of me when they didn’t have to, so I always felt like I owed them for any successes of my life. But my psychologist (LOVE her! Seriously, OS friends…if you need one, message me; she’s amazing) made me realize that I had one seriously fucked up definition of family. I went through my whole life thinking that anything I ever did right I needed to attribute to my family because they raised me. I felt like a victim, a martyr to my own family because I “owed” them for my life.

NO! That’s so important, I’m going to repeat that in bigger font.

HELL NO!

You owe nobody anything. You are your own person who is allowed to have your own life. Whether someone is actively making you feel this way or you are just assuming you owe them (as I often did), you need to shake that right now because you will always be a victim until you take control. We feel bad saying, “No,” but your life is just that: YOURS. Unwillingly giving part of it to someone else because you feel like you have to just breeds resentment and leads you back to 1, 2, and 3 above.

Try this: whenever someone asks you to do something, even if you think you might say yes, say instead, “Let me think about it and I’ll get back to you.” Unless it’s super urgent and super important (which is rarer than you might think), getting this little bit of distance between the request and the answer will do wonders for your impression of that person and your relationship. I could go into a whole bunch more detail here about how the way the person responds reflects the type of friend or family member he or she is, but just know that you’ll realize who you really want to spend your time with when you start saying this to others. And the best part: you’ll have your life back!

 Smiley Faces.org

Happy faces all around!

I hope my mantras helped. It’s going to be a rough battle, you’ll lose a lot of friends and family members from your “callousness,” and you’ll fall off the wagon now and again, but you’ll feel much lighter with that crown of thorns off your head. You’ll begin actually to like people again, and they’ll start to like you!  So, go forth, young grasshopper. Remember the mantras. Or, if four is too many, then just remember this one:

“It’s your life—every decision, every moment, every outcome is up to you—even the way you perceive it. So don’t fuck it up.”

J

Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Programming....

So I really, really suck at this whole blog thing. It just takes me so long to get an idea and really organize it the way I want it to look that I get halfway through and say, "Oh, look, it's time for lunch!" And end up playing video games for the rest of the evening.

Starting, well, now that won't be an option. Are you on the edge of your seat, wondering what has brought me back from the dead (so to speak...)? Well, hold on tight because here....we....go!

Wheeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!

Okay, so that was anticlimactic. If you've been following my video diaries, you should know by now that I am in the UK. If you didn't know that, then either you aren't on my FB or have been living under a rock the last 6 weeks because it's all I've been able to talk about since I got accepted to Essex back in August. Yes, I spent the last six weeks reminding everybody how awesome I am...as often and in the most annoying way possible.

See?! Bigger crown=better than you

I've read a lot about what it's like moving to another country. So far, none of that has applied. Okay, now I'm just acting underwhelmed. No...much of that has applied. In fact, let's just move into list mode, shall we? It'll help explain all the ways the UK is different than the US (as I've discovered so far...).

 FIGHT! 

#1: Currency
Okay, so one of my biggest hiccups is the UK's currency. Whereas in the US, my change purse was rarely filled because I abhorred coins just from the shear weight of them, the UK functions pretty much solely on coin currency. They even have a £2 coin. I mean, look at all the coins they have compared to paper money:

From bottom right to upper left, those are the 1p, 2p, 5p, 10p, 20p, 50p, £1, and £2. And of course, I don't know the difference yet, so I stand at the freaking counter for 10 minutes, rummaging out the appropriate coins to pay for my £1.90 soda or bus fare. It's not worse, just really different. I've yet to determine, by feel, the difference between a 10p and a 2p...and until I do, I'm going to be that "dumb American who can't pay fast enough." :(

 #2: Friendliness
I read somewhere that Brits were supposed to be ruder than US citizens; although, I also read that pretty much all of Europe thinks Americans are going to fly off the handle and kill someone for no reason (which I may do if I can't get this currency thing under control). However, to the former part of that sentence, I must say it is absolutely UNTRUE. Now I know where Canada gets it from. Everybody over here is sooooo nice. And accommodating. And really in love with America.

Yes, these exist here. And they're just as bad in person (I've seen them <shudder>).

 

I'm sure it's just because the people of Colchester and London are so used to foreigners (Essex has a HUGE international student population--they're known for it nationally, actually), but I am pleasantly surprised at the lack of scoffing and eye-rolling I was prepared for. Whenever I do something obviously wrong, whoever is closest just whispers or motions what I'm supposed to do without issue. It's pretty nice, actually. And almost makes me ashamed to be American. We, as a nation, joke about how inconvenienced we are by "ignorant foreigners," but it's just a fact of life here. Which is really nice because now I don't have to worry so much about insulting someone.

So you're saying that the currency isn't a good enough reason to kill someone?

#3: Road Travel
I almost don't want to buy a bike because I cannot get used to the traffic rules here. The first couple of days, I spent too much money on taxis because I thought I needed a bus pass to ride the bus instead of just paying for one trip like we do in the States (ignorant foreigner, remember?). During those rides, I gripped the "oh, shit" bar in the back more often than not because all drivers in the UK take wicked sharp turns, drive WAY too close to the person in front of them, and encounter more roundabouts than stoplights, per capita (I don't know if that's true, but it sounded right).

Seriously, roundabouts already confuse the hell out of me. Whose right away is it, when can you enter the roundabout, what lane should you be in to get off at the 2nd exit...it's crazy! And the people here know the rules so well! I mean, duh, they should, but these taxi drivers just zip into roundabouts, knowing exactly how fast, which lane, and how sharp to turn in order to get where they are going. They have streetlights but that's more for pedestrians crossing than for allowing traffic to pass. It's surprising how much I miss the stop sign. At least I know those rules...

There's a white border--that means it's "optional," right?

 #4: Pay-as-you-go and Home Utilities
Everything, and I do mean pretty much everything, can be "topped up" here. My electricity is monitored by a key that I put money on and put in my meter. When I'm getting close to being out of money (which, at this rate, won't be until mid-November), I take out the key, bring it to my local convenience store, add more money to it, then return to my house, put the key back in the meter, and my electricity resumes. Same with my internet, same with my phone (well, not the key thing, only the top up thing). It's really...different. I'm not sure whether I like it more or not, but it makes monitoring my usage easier. The electricity meter shows how much I've used. I started with £40 and in a little under a week, haven't even used £5 of it. Granted, I haven't learned how to use my radiators (which is going to suck here soon), but I kind of like knowing exactly how much I've used.

It's not THAT cold. There's still mercury in there...

They also have a cool way of limiting "vampire usage." You know, when you consume electricity by just having something plugged in? Every outlet in the house has a little switch next to it. When I need to charge something, I simply flip the switch next to that outlet and only that outlet becomes active. Same with the hot water. Rather than having one big wasteful hot water heater, each sink and the shower has it's own pull cord that turns on the individual water heater attached to the faucet. That way, I'm only using hot water when I need it instead of heating it all the time. Very efficient. At least, when I remember to turn them off, it is...

Overall, this past week has been already been a huge learning experience. Day 1 sucked horribly, but things have gotten better as the week has gone on. My classes officially start next week, as well as some of the social gatherings, so once I actually meet and start hanging out with people, things may get even better (or worse, who knows). I'll keep making video diaries and keeping a weekly blog. It might not always be about my experiences in the UK, but I will try to update it every Sunday or Monday.

If you haven't watched my video diaries (or forgot the link to them), go check them out at the here: Brittany's UK Adventure. If you want to email me, fill out the super awesome box on the right and it should magically find its way to my inbox.

Until next time.....!

P.S: All images used above are copyrighted through Microsoft Office...