The Future Freaks Me Out

I've learnt many lessons in my life.
A relevant statement considering the title of this blog.
I've learnt lessons from other people's mistakes.
I've learnt lessons from negative outcomes.
From positive outcomes.
From seeing the results and being pleased by them or being brutally disappointed by them.

I've learnt that getting a fucken perm will not result in "loose, soft waves" but in an actual fucken perm. Think of a perm. That's what a perm is. NOTHING ELSE.
Don't ever let that apprentice hairdresser tell you any different.

A lesson that I am on the cusp of learning, what happens when you invest money, time, blood, sweat, and tears into something, and then consider that you maybe don't even want it...

If we can stop being all elusive about this for one moment and have some real talk.

Approximately 2 years ago, I applied to a degree in midwifery after completing a foundation course to gain the relevant academic credentials.
I think the last blog I posted was the raw emotion and absolute devastation of not being accepted into said degree.
So I had to find a plan B.

I HAD to.

I didn't think, ok well I can move on, I can get a job, I can see where I end up, maybe I can come back to midwifery and try again.
I decided I needed to do something with this little Certificate in Health Science (level 4).

So I went on the hunt. I trawled through the academic options of what I could study next. What I could become. Who I could be. How I could finish this sentence:
Hi, I'm Kealey, I'm a....
There were only so many options. I knew I didn't want to be a nurse. I didn't want to be a phlebotomist. I didn't want to be a paramedic. I didn't want to be an occupational therapist, whatever the fuck that it. I didn't want to do massage therapy. I wanted to be a midwife.
But they didn't want me...

So back to the top of the list I go

I went through the course lists over and over again. Hoping I'd missed something, that maybe upon re-reading, something else would jump out at me.
People made all the suggestions to me.
Be this be that you'd be AMAZING at this.
I appreciated the input, but aside from midwifery, I couldn't see anything else I really wanted to do.

Wait. Hang on.

Did you see it.
You saw it didn't you.
Go back.
That line there...
I didn't want to be a paramedic.

So how is it I've ended up $22,000 in debt and 6 months into a paramedic degree?

Well you saw what I said. I had to BE someone. Apparently just being wasn't enough.
So I decided paramedics could work.
Would have to work.
Because I have to be someone.

I've heard myself say some strange things out loud over these last few years.
"I have to do this, I have to do something, what else am I going to do?"
"I was a makeup artist before this, but being a makeup artist doesn't save the world"
I even wrote in my paramedic application in the section where it asked why I want to do the degree:
"I want to become a valuable member of society and be of use to my community"

Now ain't that some self deprecating bullshit right there.
Can you imagine someone coming up to you and telling you that your job isn't saving the world? That you need to work on becoming a valuable member of society because your current situation isn't making you of use to your community?

That's no way to talk to someone.
Unless you are going about making people sad and ruining everyone's good time, then generally speaking, you are doing just fine as you are, being you.

At this exact moment in time, I don't know who I am, how I am "being", what I am doing, where I am going. I am in between a rock and a hard place. I am in purgatory. I feel little passion for what I am doing, but I feel much fear and uncertainty about moving on. Holding on to desperate hope that it could get better. But the reality being it is only going to get harder...

This isn't a dramatic bid farewell to my education.
I'm not quitting.
Yet.
Ultimately I'm having a fucken bad day and it's making me question a lot of my current situation, so I thought I'd write it down.
My thoughts could be different tomorrow.
I just wanted to put it out there, that sometimes we quit. Or at least we are very seriously considering it.


This isn't going to be about how you should keep on truckin', or when the going gets tough, the tough get going.
There are no inspirational quotes, no heart felt speeches.

I think I've ended a lot of my blogs like that, negative blooming into positive, seeing the brightside, taking the lesson and learning from it.

This isn't asking for help, or inspiration, or a motivation youtube video.

This is the truth.

This is my pending decision.

This is my current unlearned lesson.

Sugar

So today marks the last day of 30 days sugar free.

What an emotional roller coaster it has been.

No I'm totally kidding.
It has been exceptional easy, anticlimactic, and fuss free...
Who would have thought.
In recent years sugar has been hugely demonised in the media.
And rightly so.
That shit is poison.
But I had (what I thought was) a deep seeded love for sugar.
Particularly chocolate.
I knew how bad sugar was for me, but I wanted it. I didn't want to give it up.
I certainly didn't want to give it up for a whole damn month.
I was convinced I was addicted and the process of coming off it would be long, painful, and unbearable.
Then along comes Junk Free June.
It's all over Facebook.
For some reason, I decide I'll do it.
June 1st. My flatmate comes home with 2 giant blocks of new flavoured chocolate.
Hadn't advised him of my challenge. Whoops.
This was my first test.
I swear my jaw was clenched and my fists were balled the entire night.
All evening I had conversations, nay, arguments with myself in my head.

"You actually don't have to do this...No one is making you"
"Have some self respect, it's just chocolate for fuck sake"

That was the tame version. There was a lot of both positive affirmation and down right self abuse going on.
But I got through the night. I didn't eat the chocolate.

And then I continued to not eat chocolate for a whole month.

I also didn't eat any type of dessert, cakes, lollies, muesli bars, anything that was refined or added sugar. No fizzy or sweetened drinks. I had tea and coffee without sugar (I think twice I had sugar free sweetner, wasn't worth it). I didn't even have chocolate on top of my coffee.
My only source of sugar was fruits, honey and real maple syrup.

I can confidently say I did not slip up once. (that I'm aware of...)
Granted I didn't do Junk Free June to it's full potential. This would have included cutting out bread, pasta, cheese, chips, takeaways, processed foods, deep fried food...etc etc. I didn't have a excess of any of those, but I'm pretty happy with my efforts for just going sugar free.

So how do I feel?
Physically I'm not sure there's that much of a difference. I haven't weighed myself yet so I'm not sure if I've lost weight. I don't feel like I have. But that was never the aim.
The biggest result I have out of this was practicing self control.
I thought I had none.
I proved myself wrong in the best way.

I said no. I kept saying no.
And it was fine. I didn't lose my mind, I didn't cry, I didn't have physical symptoms of withdrawal.

I was never addicted.

So now what?

I have no desire to eat sugar the way I did before. Honestly. Now that I know I can manage without it, I'm done with it.
I'm aiming to make it a weekend treat. And in actual treat sized portions. Not entire blocks of chocolate shared between myself and my husband like before.

Some say "I don't need sugar in my tea, I'm sweet enough"
I was bitter and needed sweetening up.

Now I'm sweet as.

So there we go.
I did a thing and it was good.
I'm proud of myself.
Did you do Junk Free June?
How did you do?

Roar

On todays episode of Get Fit or Die Trying, tiny hippo ventures outside into the backyard...

Today I mowed the lawns.
All of the lawns.
All by myself.
It took nearly two hours.
There was some hill action included.
I made many a strange noise hauling the mower back and forth, up and down.
I also had many images of pushing it up, slipping and having it roll back over me....
Mmm gruesome.
I mowed the crap out of that lawn until the sun went down.
It was a magical moment, enjoying the fruits of my labour (what?), witnessing the soft blue grey sunset, listening to Wiz Khalifa on my turbo bass headphones.

Magical.

My elusive app confirmed my 6000 steps and 60 minutes of activity.
I'm already feeling better in myself even after 4 days.
I feel more awake. I am lying in bed writing this but I'm not completely exhausted.

I mowed the damn lawn.

I am tough as balls.

I am woman, hear me roar.

Work It

Day threeeee.

They say it takes 21 days to form a habit.
Then I googled that and google says that 21 days is a MYTH and it's actually more like 66.
Whatever google.
I'm only 63 days away from this becoming a habit!

So todays activities I got a bit creative with.
And can I please have a fucken high five because I've been doing waaaay more than just 30 minutes a day.
Anyway.
I did the groceries today, so that was a bit of physical activity, plodding around the supermarket.
BUT. Buuuut.
When I got home, then came the turbo creativeness.
Instead of this old chestnut...

I made an effort to make as many trips as possible.
Huh huh. Up here for thinkin', down there for dancin'.
So 9 trips up and down 2 flights of stairs.

Boom goes the dynamite.

AND IT DIDN'T STOP THERE.

I also walked to school to pick up my sprog and turned my medium sized butt around and walked her all the way home (wee wee wee little piggy)

That was a total of 5km of walking.
Solid effort!

And my little app I was unaware I had on my phone popped up and told me I had reached my goal before I was even half way to school. Upon my arrival home I have walked ~13,000 steps today.

That's better than a poke in the eye with a stick.



I'm thinking about what activity I can do tomorrow that maybe isn't walking...

This Is How We Do

So todays 30 minute workout was interesting...

I had initially planned to walk the dog again. Nothing exciting. Because excitement isn't my thing.
Introvert life. Yeeeeee.

Upon donning my poorly matching workout gear (it's dog walking, not a fashion show damnit)
a friend rang and said she was on her way. Aw. Oh well, friend catch ups, ain't nothing wrong wit dat. Will walk the dog later. Catch ups extended far longer than I intended and before I knew it it was school pickup time. Bother, no dog walking for me. (I prefer to walk alone, bringing the kid along wasn't an option)

So I turned to my BFF YouTube.
I'll have one 30 minute yoga workout please Mr Tube.

I typed it in and picked the one that had beginners in the title, because I'm probably less than a beginner to be honest.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JPkNZwTFpxU

I was greeted by textbook "relaxing" music, a turbo babe on a yoga mat and then the voice of ...maybe Hugh Hefner? I don't know, he sounded like an old dude who is tired of your shit.

So I did my tubby, unflexible attempt at yoga and it was fine, I'm not particularly balanced yet, but I'll keep working on that.
Then it came to my faaaavourite part of yoga.
Savasana!
Or, in English, the corpse pose!
That's where you lie the fuck down and do all but fall asleep.
So the video told me to do savasana and I was just laying there with my eyes closed, chilling out, pretending to be a corpse. But then at some point I realised the video had stopped and hadn't advised me it had stopped. So who knows how long I was a corpse for.

Upon rising from the dead, another video had popped up.
30 minute dance workout.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tj9d6aBOzDo

Go on then.

I like dancing, I'm pretty good at it. I got nowhere to be.

Let me say. I am glad no one was around to see this train wreck.

Have you ever noticed how white I am?
No neither.
NOT UNTIL THIS WORKOUT VIDEO.

Good lord I am uncoordinated.
These moves weren't even that complicated.
But I powered on through that mother.
I pretended I was looking in a mirror instead of at a TV. Like fuck yeah I am an Indian GODDESS.
Look at my sexy abs and bewitching eyes. Fall under my spell bitches. Yeeeeee.

There was commentary throughout the video from the resident Goddess herself. She was actually kind of aggressive at some points. I almost took it personally. MOVE IT! KEEP UP! she bellowed at me in a stern voice.
Yes Miss, sorry Miss.

It was high energy and it definitely got my heart rate up. After my 1 minute water break allowance my Indian beauty told me we were moving on to the best part, the Bollywood phase!

Wait what.

Ok GO.
Just kidding. There was no instruction and they just danced like it was a competition.

I couldn't keep up so I literally gave my TV the fingers and had my own dance party for the last 5 minutes.

Day 2
Done and dusted.

No More Bad Days

3 or 4 years ago I wrote a blog about losing weight.
When I wrote that blog I was about 15kg lighter, was single and a mother of just 1 child.
Fast forward to now, that 15kg ain't sitting pretty.
I'm 5ft2ish and 70kg give or take...give mostly....
I'm too big for my height. BMI, health reasons, aesthetic reason, no matter which angle you look at it, I am too big.
And more importantly I am too unfit.
So here we begin my little journey.
And this time round it's actually important that I stick to it.

So I'll be the first to admit I'm sort of a lot hopeless at sticking to things.
I am a quitter and a defeatist by nature.
So I'm going to keep the goals few and small for now.
In fact, so small that so far I only have 1 goal.

30 minutes a day of physical activity
Anything will do. Walking, gym, yoga, swimming, ANYTHING. But AT LEAST 30 minutes a day. Everyday.


That's all.
Additional bonus points for drinking more water and reducing sugar intake. But main goal focus is 30 minutes a day.

Beyond the glaringly inspiring aspect of feeling like a land whale every time I look in the mirror, there are several driving reasons behind this.
I am tired, bored, slow, unfit and all round unhealthy.
I am planning on applying to do a paramedics degree, a job that requires at least some level of physical capability.
So all of this should be reason enough to sort my shit.

So!

This isn't even a "tomorrow I start" carry on.
I started today! High fucken five.
I took my dog for a walk in the rain. I had put a timer on to see how far I had to walk to make up my 30 minutes (don't think I'm going to do a minute more than I have to...) but I failed to push start on the timer. So that was a job well done. But I think I made up around 25-30 minutes. Tomorrow I will ensure it's the full 30 minutes.

I'm going to attempt to document every days activity.
So feel free to come cheer me on. I'm sure I can do this VERY BASIC daily task.

Do you think..??

Emotion Sickness.

So today is the day that I was meant to be in Otago. Starting O week. Starting my midwifery career.

It may come as a surprise to you that today is the single hardest days of my life.

Let me hesitantly compare this to the recent death of my father, and explain why this hurts more than losing him. Why today is the worst day of my life.

You see, I am an atheist, a very committed one at that. I believe in nothing but science.
The death of my father was, for a lack of a better term, easy to accept. Because everything that happened to him, happened as science meant it to. There was a solid and understandable explanation for why his heart stopped beating and why when we turned the machines off, he never woke up.
But of course there is an undeniable pain. There is the pain of losing my parent. My Dad is gone and I will never see him again. But I knew my Dad well enough to know that he wouldn't be for me wallowing in his passing. I know what happened, I know why it happened. And so as Dad would've expected, I have accepted it and I have let it go. Many people mightn't understand this, and will question my love, sanity, emotional wellbeing and all other aspects of my person. But it is how I am, it is who I am. And I know Dad would more than likely be proud of me for not wallowing in misery at his passing.

So how does the death of my Dad not trump my failure to get into my degree?

It's because I have no explanation. I have no scientific reason behind why I didn't get in. Why I worked my ass off and it amounted to nothing.
There is no black and white, typed out reason why I didn't get into this degree.
What makes this even harder for me is that this is probably one of the only times in my life that I committed to something, and followed through.
My perpetually pessimistic younger brother has always told me to never have expectations, then you can never be disappointed.

Right now, I'm joining his team.

Because fuck this.

I was intending to make this a deep and insightful entry.
But it's resulted in me sobbing and no longer having the dexterity or brain capacity to keep typing.
I am a heartbroken mess.

I have failed.

I have failed and nothing anyone says can change it. Yes I can try again next year. Maybe. But that's far beyond the point.

The next person who asks me what my plans are now is going to get punched in the throat.