Drinking shampain

Photos by Lew

I'm like desperate to get my hands on one of those oversize silver jackets like the one Kurt is wearing in the Heart Shaped Box vid above - me and Lew saw Montage of Heck last week and I really enjoyed it but the main thing I got out of it was this overwhelming desire to recreate the silver jacket/jeans/striped top/poppies look from that vid...

The top photos are from a little birthday do that me and Cass shared on Sunday. I believe it was the last beautiful day before Melbourne winter properly kicks in and it was a nice way to finish an intense week of 'doing'. Cass and I have a shared appreciation for drinking champagne to celebrate not only birthdays and achievements and the like, but also 'cause  life itself is just worth celebrating too. I love the idea of drinking champagne because I'm celebrating literally living - it makes me feel all romantic and silly and young and warm. 

Last week was ~one of those weeks. Like, definitely not a bad week at all however, as I get older, I'm realising the value of proper rest more and more and yet I still deprive myself of it (and here I am unable to sleep and writing on my blog instead of persevering). I have already over-committed myself for 2015 because truly it is what I do best, but last week was the first time in a while that I actual felt the ramifications of that. I stayed at home on Friday night when I had viable going-out options, curled up in Lewis's bed, feeling waves of negative thoughts pushing against all my hard work to keep them out. It's amazing how the second, literally the second, I sit down after a period of high stress, I automatically default to being really hard on myself. At least now I can observe this from an external standpoint and anticipate it; at least I can prepare to counteract it when it happens. 

I wish I had dealt with my emotions better when I was a teenager, because I really think that if I had, I wouldn't still be crying over meals or over the way my body looks so often (or even at all!) I always just assumed that because I wasn't really unwell that I wasn't suffering enough to be able to ask for help. It wasn't until I was out of high school that I realised how unhealthily I was thinking and acting - and even though I got help then, and continue to get help to this day, I really, really regret not realising how my life was being effected and how my unhealthy thought processes were becoming cemented. 

I suppose the point is, it's never too late to ask for help - and if you feel like you need it (like, ever) don't ever try to convince yourself that you don't. 

Sorry for the kinda downer post, I'm actually feeling quite good at the moment! I just was talking about this today and was very proud of the fact that I can distance myself from the thoughts and habits and realise how harmful and how routine they have become. I am getting closer every day to becoming the grown woman I so dream of becoming...