They say that the definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over again expecting different results, but I'm not sure I agree with that. I've seen plenty of crazy people, and they only need to do something once to know it's stupid. Whereas us 'normal people' can go an entire a life time making the same mistakes, especially in love, without learning to just stop doing it.
I must admit that I am one of those such people. Sometimes it's just easier to be optimistic about the situation, or to believe in someone proving you wrong, than it is to face the truth even when it's staring you in face. Sometimes you just want something so bad that you can't accept that it isn't possible to have it. When it comes to your emotions it's near on impossible to control them and as I've said many times before, the heart wants what the heart wants.
I've been living my life very differently in the past year. I'm learning that most of the time the pain of regret, the pain that comes from taking a chance, is better than the regret of living in caution. Every now and then, it's better to take a chance on something or someone, even if you're 99% sure that it's going to go wrong, because otherwise the regret of "what if" will eat you up inside. I decided to start biting the bullet and dealing with consequences afterwards. Mostly it's been working well for me, and I've had some great experiences because of it. But this time I've been burnt.
For the last few months I've been behaving like a pathetic beat up puppy, living with the "what if's" after following my brain instead of my heart and deciding not to take a chance on someone. I've been moping around feeling very sorry for myself, and literally feeling withdrawal for not allowing myself to see this person while I tried to deal with my attraction to them. I was keeping my hurt at bay most of the time by convincing myself that one day I'd be capable of being friends with them. But a lot of the time I was having huge pangs of hurt over the deprival of not sharing my feelings with them. It was eating me up inside and at the same time causing me to feel really angry at myself for being so totally out of character over someone who I already knew I could not pursue anything with. I knew it wasn't worth the risk of rejection, nor the time wasted on a relationship that I could already see wouldn't work.
Eventually, I figured if I was suffering this badly already, then how much worse could it get if I got hurt? So I reached out a little, and tested the waters. And the waters did, as predicted, burn me. I'm really angry at myself for being so weak and ignoring my better judgement over some stupid soppy feelings. But at the same time I'm incredibly proud of myself for putting my feelings out there and risking my biggest fear: rejection. It's helped me to realise that it's not so bad. I was rejected a hell of a lot by stupid boys when I was younger, and I survived. As an adult confident woman who knows herself and is proud of herself, what have I got to fear? That one guy I like won't want me back? I have survived far worse in my life so far, and I am sure I will experience many more worse situations yet.
It turns out that finding out I was exactly right in my prediction was just what I needed and now I am back on the path of being single, happy and doing whatever I want. Because let's face it, I don't need a man telling me he's scared for me to bungee jump, or that he doesn't want me to go away with just my girl mate and would rather I went with him, or not to spend the evening in my jammies looking like I've been dragged through a bush backwards cuz it turns him off. Screw that. I do what I want when I want. Thug life.
Puddy <3
Showing posts with label single. Show all posts
Showing posts with label single. Show all posts
Friday, 24 January 2014
Saturday, 16 November 2013
Barcelona Day One: Heading to Barcelona.
** Hi guys, this post is from Thursday 5th November, the day I left for Barcelona. I didn't arrive there until really late, so I only have one or two photos, however these is some footage so keep an eye out on my last Barcelona post for a link to my vlog :) **
It's adventure time! Today is kind of a big deal, I'm taking a huge step towards dealing with my anxiety. Today, I fly to Barcelona for a four night trip completely by myself. My 16 year old self would be jumping for joy and shouting for more time, but the person I am now is terrified. I've never been great with flying, last year I had a full on panic attack and then I was travelling with my family. I've also never travelled alone, I'm not even great at being alone in my own home town without feeling nervous, so at this moment I'm starting to think I may have completely lost my mind by booking this trip. I start my day with a trip to my doctors to collect a prescription for some Diazepam (Valium in America) to help me through not only the flight there and back, but just in case I have problems sleeping or just generally coping throughout the trip. I struggled to sleep last year, even though I was in a very fancy hotel with my whole family, so I feel better knowing I am prepared.
I'm frantic as I try to make my last preparations before my friend Amy arrives to drive me to the airport. I have to run to the local store to pick up a bunch of things I've suddenly realised I have, but can't take with me as I share them with my family, such as shampoo and conditioner. I pack my flight bag with 2 new books I've bought especially for the trip, you can never be too prepared. I then fill it with food. I didn't realise when I booked my flight that I was going to be on a plane during dinner time, meaning I won't get to eat from 2pm when I leave for the airport, to 11.30pm when I arrive in my hostel if I am to stay on budget. I begin to realise that the budget is unlikely to last.
Amy arrives and I feel strange as I say goodbye to my dad and we pack my stuff into her car. I'm really nervous the whole way to the airport and although we mostly chatted about work and casual stuff, I have a strong feeling of impending doom. I try to distract myself by filming some of the journey, but when I switch on my camera I realise I've left the memory card in my laptop at home! We're nearly there at this point and there's no way I have time to go back, so I have to plan to buy a new one at the airport. £20 for another memory card, argh! I had planned on picking up an extra in case I filled up the first, but this doesn't help me now as my original card is at home.
I stop for dinner at a Weatherspoons express in the airport and start my book. I take some shots of the airport and beginning of my journey, but it isn't long before I end up running out of distractions and just sit in front of the screen waiting for my gate to be announced. I have a chat with my mum on the phone, and stayed on to her right up to my gate. When I eventually got onto the plane, I had prebooked my seat, extra leg room to make me less claustrophobic in the hope that will ease my nervous, but then also the window seat, which I usually avoid like the plague, because I want to film take off and landing. Thank God for medication! I sit next to a nice Spanish couple who sleep a lot of the flight. I daren't sleep as I worry about sleeping when I get there. I'm surprisingly calm for the whole flight, even take off and landing where I usually freak.
When I get off the plane it's not quite as warm as I expected, and I'm actually a little chilly but I hop on to the coach transfer to the airport. I ask a few nice English speaking people where they are staying but none of them are staying at my hostel. I collect my case and head out in search of the train station. I feel a little twinge of panic as I realise I can't read any of the signs and none of them have an obvious train sign. I head for the exit and right outside is a bus to Barcelona city centre. I have directions to the hostel by bus or train, so I jump on and accept the change of plan. I arrive in the city centre and muddle my way to the nearest metro station, getting confused on the simplest of things like how to buy a ticket and how to get through the barriers. Everything is so different!
My directions say to get off at Diagonal and the hostel is a 2 minute walk. However they don't mention that the metro station has 5 different exits, all of which are about 2 blocks apart from each other, and I can't even find an exit anyway as all the signs are in Spanish! I stop several people asking how to get out.
I end up coming out of the wrong exit and have to walk 20 minutes to find something even close to my hostel address. I cross the road, anticipating that the number of my hostel is the other side of the street, but I can't find number 116. I walk the stretch several times following the numbers, but 116 isn't there. Across the road, partially boarded up, I see a sign cas[BOARD]cia. I am looking for Casa Gracia. I run across the road with my case, which is now killing me to pull with all muscles aching and sweat pouring from me. This building is definitely a hostel, but it's all boarded up and I suddenly realise the sign says its sold.
I can't explain the level of panic I felt. My stomach flips, my heart starts pounding, and I think I might vomit, faint and burst into tears at the same time. Oh my god, it doesn't exist. It's sold. There's no hostel. I have nowhere to sleep! I take a deep breath and force myself to check the other side of the road again. I am adamant that I will find this place. All the even numbers are on the other side so it has to be there. I check each doorway more closely. It's only on checking the intercom system on the third door that I see a tiny little piece of paper that says Casa Gracia. I could scream I am so happy.
I burst in and drag my case beside me with ease in the relief. I quickly check my phone, it's 11.30. I told my mum I would be at the hostel by 10.30 at the latest. She has text me saying she hopes it's not too expensive to text in Spain, but that's she's emailed the hostel to ask if I have arrived, where am I? Shit. I approach the lift and my stomach drops. It looks about 100 years old and I don't even understand the buttons. I press every button and stand there for a while, but nothing happens. I decide it is easier to just drag my case up the spiral staircase, some guests tell me it is only one floor to reception. I freak the hell out of the receptionists with my utter relief to see them.
I check into my room, and someone is in the bed I was assigned. She tells me someone is in her bed. I'm pretty happy to settle anywhere, hell I'm just happy to have a bed! I'm introduced to my two room mates, Lina from Berlin and Jamie from California. I'm so glad it's just girls, but it's a 6 person room so I'm aware more people could arrive any time. I'm told there is a boy staying in our room too, but no one has seen him yet. He dumped his stuff while the girls where out and hasn't been seen all day. He swings by briefly to collect something but doesn't say hi. I email my mum to fill her in and reassure her that I am still alive. I don't sleep very well that night so take diazepam, but am super glad I decided to buy earplugs at the airport last minute.
It's the beginning of an awesome adventure, and I feel invincible as I realise I am here, by myself, in a hostel! Jamie tells me I am superwoman for facing my anxiety and coming here. I feel like it.
Puddy <3
It's adventure time! Today is kind of a big deal, I'm taking a huge step towards dealing with my anxiety. Today, I fly to Barcelona for a four night trip completely by myself. My 16 year old self would be jumping for joy and shouting for more time, but the person I am now is terrified. I've never been great with flying, last year I had a full on panic attack and then I was travelling with my family. I've also never travelled alone, I'm not even great at being alone in my own home town without feeling nervous, so at this moment I'm starting to think I may have completely lost my mind by booking this trip. I start my day with a trip to my doctors to collect a prescription for some Diazepam (Valium in America) to help me through not only the flight there and back, but just in case I have problems sleeping or just generally coping throughout the trip. I struggled to sleep last year, even though I was in a very fancy hotel with my whole family, so I feel better knowing I am prepared.
I'm frantic as I try to make my last preparations before my friend Amy arrives to drive me to the airport. I have to run to the local store to pick up a bunch of things I've suddenly realised I have, but can't take with me as I share them with my family, such as shampoo and conditioner. I pack my flight bag with 2 new books I've bought especially for the trip, you can never be too prepared. I then fill it with food. I didn't realise when I booked my flight that I was going to be on a plane during dinner time, meaning I won't get to eat from 2pm when I leave for the airport, to 11.30pm when I arrive in my hostel if I am to stay on budget. I begin to realise that the budget is unlikely to last.
Amy arrives and I feel strange as I say goodbye to my dad and we pack my stuff into her car. I'm really nervous the whole way to the airport and although we mostly chatted about work and casual stuff, I have a strong feeling of impending doom. I try to distract myself by filming some of the journey, but when I switch on my camera I realise I've left the memory card in my laptop at home! We're nearly there at this point and there's no way I have time to go back, so I have to plan to buy a new one at the airport. £20 for another memory card, argh! I had planned on picking up an extra in case I filled up the first, but this doesn't help me now as my original card is at home.
I stop for dinner at a Weatherspoons express in the airport and start my book. I take some shots of the airport and beginning of my journey, but it isn't long before I end up running out of distractions and just sit in front of the screen waiting for my gate to be announced. I have a chat with my mum on the phone, and stayed on to her right up to my gate. When I eventually got onto the plane, I had prebooked my seat, extra leg room to make me less claustrophobic in the hope that will ease my nervous, but then also the window seat, which I usually avoid like the plague, because I want to film take off and landing. Thank God for medication! I sit next to a nice Spanish couple who sleep a lot of the flight. I daren't sleep as I worry about sleeping when I get there. I'm surprisingly calm for the whole flight, even take off and landing where I usually freak.
Landing in Barcelona - sadly at this point I hadn't worked out how to focus my camera yet!
When I get off the plane it's not quite as warm as I expected, and I'm actually a little chilly but I hop on to the coach transfer to the airport. I ask a few nice English speaking people where they are staying but none of them are staying at my hostel. I collect my case and head out in search of the train station. I feel a little twinge of panic as I realise I can't read any of the signs and none of them have an obvious train sign. I head for the exit and right outside is a bus to Barcelona city centre. I have directions to the hostel by bus or train, so I jump on and accept the change of plan. I arrive in the city centre and muddle my way to the nearest metro station, getting confused on the simplest of things like how to buy a ticket and how to get through the barriers. Everything is so different!
My directions say to get off at Diagonal and the hostel is a 2 minute walk. However they don't mention that the metro station has 5 different exits, all of which are about 2 blocks apart from each other, and I can't even find an exit anyway as all the signs are in Spanish! I stop several people asking how to get out.
The buttons in the lift of the Metro - where is exit?!
I can't explain the level of panic I felt. My stomach flips, my heart starts pounding, and I think I might vomit, faint and burst into tears at the same time. Oh my god, it doesn't exist. It's sold. There's no hostel. I have nowhere to sleep! I take a deep breath and force myself to check the other side of the road again. I am adamant that I will find this place. All the even numbers are on the other side so it has to be there. I check each doorway more closely. It's only on checking the intercom system on the third door that I see a tiny little piece of paper that says Casa Gracia. I could scream I am so happy.
I burst in and drag my case beside me with ease in the relief. I quickly check my phone, it's 11.30. I told my mum I would be at the hostel by 10.30 at the latest. She has text me saying she hopes it's not too expensive to text in Spain, but that's she's emailed the hostel to ask if I have arrived, where am I? Shit. I approach the lift and my stomach drops. It looks about 100 years old and I don't even understand the buttons. I press every button and stand there for a while, but nothing happens. I decide it is easier to just drag my case up the spiral staircase, some guests tell me it is only one floor to reception. I freak the hell out of the receptionists with my utter relief to see them.
I check into my room, and someone is in the bed I was assigned. She tells me someone is in her bed. I'm pretty happy to settle anywhere, hell I'm just happy to have a bed! I'm introduced to my two room mates, Lina from Berlin and Jamie from California. I'm so glad it's just girls, but it's a 6 person room so I'm aware more people could arrive any time. I'm told there is a boy staying in our room too, but no one has seen him yet. He dumped his stuff while the girls where out and hasn't been seen all day. He swings by briefly to collect something but doesn't say hi. I email my mum to fill her in and reassure her that I am still alive. I don't sleep very well that night so take diazepam, but am super glad I decided to buy earplugs at the airport last minute.
It's the beginning of an awesome adventure, and I feel invincible as I realise I am here, by myself, in a hostel! Jamie tells me I am superwoman for facing my anxiety and coming here. I feel like it.
Puddy <3
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)