Living on a knife's edge.

Time for my visa renewal, and as always, drama and panic ensues.

I can't help it, I'm hot-wired for panic. Oh, not when physical danger attacks - then I act. No, I only panic and go to pieces when something attacks me emotionally. No matter how much time I spend trying to understand my triggers, deal with my issues, learn about why I react the way I do, the minute I'm confronted with something that is an emotional sore point, I suffer almost physical paralysis, while the mice in my head run around frantically in increasingly tighter circles.

Gah.

I may not qualify this time around. For the visa I mean. I may, but I may not. I have no idea - yet again - where I'm going to be living in 2 months time. The ground has been whipped out from under my feet and I'm free falling. I read the application notes two months ago and came to the conclusion I qualified. I read them today and discovered I did not. I'm sure they're the same notes. Lots of phone calls to lots of people later and I may have a chance. But I may not.

Shit.

I am slightly prouder of myself this time around though - I'm still reeling, and my heart is still doing intermittent cartwheels, but I'm thinking now. And taking action too. I only spent an hour in blind panic instead of days of it. And I made a decision; all within 12 hours of discovering I had no hope.

Bah.

You know you're alive when you can't breath.


A poem, for perspective, suggested by my adored mother.

ITHACA

When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,
pray that the road is long,
full of adventure, full of knowledge.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the angry Poseidon -- do not fear them:
You will never find such as these on your path,
if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine
emotion touches your spirit and your body.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,
if you do not carry them within your soul,
if your soul does not set them up before you.

Pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many, when,
with such pleasure, with such joy
you will enter ports seen for the first time;
stop at Phoenician markets,
and purchase fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensual perfumes of all kinds,
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
visit many Egyptian cities,
to learn and learn from scholars.

Always keep Ithaca in your mind.
To arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for many years;
and to anchor at the island when you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.

Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would have never set out on the road.
She has nothing more to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.
Wise as you have become, with so much experience,
you must already have understood what Ithacas mean.

C.P. Cavafy

ARHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I don't want to go back to Australia. But no-one here wants to employ me. This sucks!

Unemployment

Blerch!

Flat as a pancake

Sorry I haven't blogged lately. I've been really antsy. I learned, just prior to Christmas, (and what a wonderful Christmas present it was) that I probably wouldn't have a job come March.

My employer (Govt) is having to rationalise to pay for the bank bail out and so all external recruitment has been stopped and all agency contract will not be renewed. Which means me. It's nothing personal, I know they'd keep me if they could, but they can't.

I tried not to let this affect Christmas at home but I think it did. I wasn't as social as I could have been and I missed spending some quality time with my brothers which is a real shame. I just hope I didn't affect their enjoyment of the holiday - I'm so sorry if I did guys!

But ever since I got back, I've not been able to rouse enthusiasm for writing at all. We even had snow for a few days as I reported and I couldn't keep my joy in it alive for long enough to build a snowman which I have wanted to do for years.

I am down.

I hate job hunting and when you feel bad about yourself it's even harder. I've had all this positive feedback from work too - they like me and I like it here so it's doubly damning.

The job market really sucks in the UK right now too. I can guarantee I won't get another job in Plymouth so I'll have to move again.

It all just sucks lemons, so I'm grumpy and writing up-beat blogs is beyond me. Sorry guys. Hoping it will get better soon. Send me cyber hugs in the mean time please!

Yours in a puddle,
Kat

Brown Day.

Down day today. Don't know why but every human interaction is taking a lot more effort than usual and every time I stop being "On Show" - ie, polite and friendly for an appearance of normality when talking to someone - I slump into a brown study.

Sometimes I feel a bit like an alien in hiding. Like the Slitheen - wearing a human body suite (without the farting of course!). The point is, my insides do not match my outsides at all right now. Maybe I'm a part-time alien? Once every couple of weeks my psyche gets subsumed by another sentience and it watches my life through my eyes. A very sad sentience.

However, the beauty of experience and the wonder of perspective gives me to know that I shall be free of my visitor very soon, and all will be well again. Wonderful thing is knowledge - you can learn from your own history. If you're bright enough that is.

I'm also taking steps to hopefully reduce the frequency of my visitors, visits. I've found a choir to join and also a meditation centre to go to - both within easy distance from my house. More about those anon. And admittedly, the visitations are 100 times better (more infrequent) than five years ago when the monster had a strangle hold on my mind and was choking the life out of me. Millions of thanks go to Jo, Sally, Andrew and Stacy for helping me out of that quagmire. Whether they knew it or not, together we fought the monster until he was forced into full retreat.

But until then, please stare into space with me and wish me luck escaping my monster. Actually, rather than a Slitheen, I think it's more of an octopus, perched on my head, tentacles holding on tight, emitting a cloud of ink, blinding me to reality. That works for the strangulation part too.

So, wish me luck escaping my octopus. Right now, he's being bloody persistent and clinging on against all attempts of removal. Gah.