I am, generally, quite an anxious person. I have the ability to crumble at the smallest little thing.

For example, last week I dropped a shopping bag that had a jar of garlic in it. The jar broke. A normal person would have said “oh, dang it!” and popped the bag and offending jar into the bin. What did I do? I screamed, cried, and then threw the garlic jar across the parking lot. This is the kind of thing that happens when I have a panic attack. I don’t think this is a healthy response when things happen that you don’t expect or plan for.

I am seeking help, but it’s slow. Some days are better than others. I have medication, and I am still waiting for a firm diagnosis on what the heck is wrong with me.

There is a lot on my plate at the moment, I am stuck in a job where, even though the people are incredibly nice and do amazing things for the community, I am unsatisfied, bored and have no say at all in how things are done. My father has been very ill for most of the year or so, and I am worried that I might not have much time left to really get to know him.

In addition to this, I have had agonising back pain for about a month. It’s getting better now, but I feel as if the slightest poke might set it off again.

I am edgy, I have problems concentrating and I am hyperemotional. I cry at the drop of the hat. I know this is not normal, and I would very much like to feel normal. Just for a day or two. Just so I can remember what it’s like.

Some days are awesome. I have a heap of energy, I am impulsive, I make grand plans that (eventually) are never followed out or completed. I even started a business, and wrote a business plan in about 2 days! The website itself is not completed, obviously.

The more I reflect on this - and i have been reflecting on this a lot - the more I come to the realisation that I have been this kind of person for as long as I can remember. Moody, hypersensitive and impulsive. I go through cycles where everything is amazing, and I want to jump for joy. Then, the next moment, I am in a pit of fear and despair that is really hard to climb out. 

The first “panic attack” I can remember was in year 3. We were asked to write a story. I just started to cry. I remember the teacher coming out and I think I actually got in trouble for being disruptive or something. 

I moved schools a lot. I travelled around Australia with my mother when I was about 8, and later that year we went to Germany and I met my half-sisters for the first time. Before that I didn’t even know that I had sisters! We have a wonderful relationship now, although I do wish I could visit them more often.

I went to three primary schools, one of which was an insane pentecostal christian school. I ended up refusing to go back there. However, that is probably a story for another time.

We moved around quite a bit as well. I was born in Melbourne, but moved to Perth when I was a few months old. Then it was one rental after another. 4 moves before I was 13. Then, finally! Mum bought a house. Stability… or so I thought. My mum moved to Tasmania to ‘retire’ when I was 18.

High school is rotten for everyone, but I have always been a bit of a loner so it was always going to be tough. The smart people were annoyed at me because I always passed my tests, without even studying. The popular ones hated me because I was ‘weird’. I had a few friends, but they came and went.

In year 10 I went to Germany for a year exchange program. It was freedom! I could do what I liked, and that was not much at all. I participated as much as I could, but mostly I still just kept to myself. I explored. Had my first kiss, got drunk, and generally had a lot of fun doing what I did.

I came back from Germany feeling a little lost and confused. Since I was now a year behind, everyone was younger than I was, and I fit in even less than I did before. So, I moved schools. I went to a college to finish high school. I honestly just wanted to pack up and go back to Europe again, but mum (being the voice of reason) made me stay and finish. I made a few friends; close friends with whom I am still very close to now.

I finished Year 12. I passed. I didn’t apply to university. Travel was what I wanted to do from the moment I came back from my exchange year. I moved out of home when I was 17, about 9 months after I came back from Germany. There was no logical reason for it, I just wanted that freedom I had when I was overseas. I moved into a share-house and met my best friend. I moved house a few more times after that.. about 4 times in 2 years. 

I then moved in with my boyfriend at the time, which was a big mistake. He was not my type at all, and I kind of knew that from about the second week we were living together. I soldiered on. To numb myself, I drank. I drank a lot! Then, I decided enough was enough and I booked a one-way ticket to Europe and didn’t plan to come back. That was 2005. I left him on Valentine’s Day. I still feel kind of bad about that.

I met someone, and after only a week, I figured it was a good idea to trust him with my life and was a passenger on a motorcycle. We travelled through France, Spain and Portugal. It was wonderful. We were off and on for a few years, and then I felt I had to leave again. So I decided Indonesia was as good a place as any. I found a job at a language school in Sulawesi, and for the first 6 months, it was wonderful! Then the novelty wore off, and my anxiety came back. Indonesians do have a habit of invading personal space, and it got a bit too much for me to handle. I left 9 months into my one-year contract and came back ‘home’ to Australia.

Perth was no longer where I wanted to be, so I went to Melbourne. That was December 2008. In 2009, I got a job as a receptionist at a private school. I had control. I had stability. I should have felt satisfied, but of course that did not last long. In 2010, I landed a job at a PR company as the office manager/receptionist/PA. The work was stressful, but it was a lot of fun. I even managed to help then figure out an update plan for their IT system. I am quite proud of that and even got to go on an interstate business trip!

The reality of what PR actually does to the media slowly dawned on me, and I really disapproved of what many of the companies we represented did. So, with a bit of consideration, I decided to quit.

I did some temping for a while and then I landed my current job. I figured, if the work is easy, at least I could focus on other things in my spare time. The problem is that is I am not stimulated and challenged, I get very bored and very frustrated, which in turn then sucks my motivation to do anything else but mope around my flat. Which is where I am now. 

There are many positive things happening in my life. I am recently engaged to someone who I feel I have known forever, but it has only been about 3 years. He is my ‘voice of reason’. I love him and he loves me. He tries so hard to keep me sane, and it drives him mad sometimes. I want to feel happy because I know, deep inside, that I am. I feel terribly guilty that I don’t appear to be happy, which then obviously spirals into a cycle of sadness, guilt about sadness and sadness about guilt and so on.

I want to feel balanced. I want to make judgements based on logic, reason and not emotions and impulsiveness. I do need help with this, and I am getting it. It’s hard. However, I do know, that in the end, it will all turn out for the better. I just need to hang in there!

Read this... and weep

Let’s face it. Debt is as addictive as crack.

Would you like a new car, but don’t have the cash upfront? Don’t worry; you can get it on credit.

How about that amazing red dress you saw last week? Never fear! Credit is here! Want an overseas holiday? Just get a loan; no problem!

It seems that the normal thing to do if you cannot afford what you want is to ‘put it on the card’. Have some fun now, and think about tomorrow when it happens. I used to do this all the time.

Then, I reached my personal debt ceiling. The hangover was incredibly painful. My personal debt is not as bad as some people I know, but it’s still pretty bad. If all goes to plan, I should be out of debt in about 5 years.

What do I have to show for my debt? Not much. I don’t have a car or a huge stereo system. I don’t even live in a huge house full of stuff. I live quite a modest lifestyle. I don’t even go out much. Most of my credit card purchases were for food, bills and furniture.

I will be the first to admit that I had been living beyond my means. This is a pattern that seems to be repeated wherever you are in the world. We are seriously greedy; we have been living well beyond our means and the time is coming very soon when our planet is going to start calling in those debts.

Look at Greece. Look at the US. Look everywhere!

I can understand the reasons why people get into debt. Getting sick is expensive. Children are expensive. Even having a balanced diet and ensuring you have a roof over your head is expensive. It only takes one misguided purchase to send you spiraling into the difficult-to-escape clutches of debt.

I heard recently that in order to live a ‘modest’ lifestyle, a single person living alone needs at least $40,000 per year. A couple needs about $50,000 to $60,000. A ‘modest’ lifestyle was defined as being able to easily purchase food, pay bills, but not really save much and hardly go out. There is not much disposable income to play with.

This means that if you want to live a lifestyle where you go out every weekend, buy designer brands and still save a bit for a rainy day, you aren’t going to do this on minimum wage.

Sure, you could put that amazing pair of $300 sunglasses on your credit card. They are sunglasses. You do need sunglasses. They protect your eyes. However, just because a certain Mr Lagerfeld says that this pair of sunglasses is special doesn’t mean that you really need it. Chances are you can’t afford it.

At the end of the day, it’s just stuff. It’s fine to want stuff if you can afford it. But, if you can’t afford it, it might be wise to just stop and think about how you are going to pay for that – and whether you actually need it.

One day, in one way or another, you are going to have to pay for it.

 Unlike the rest of the world, I am not a sports fan.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t fiercely hate it; I just have no strong feelings either way. I will watch a game if there is nothing else to do on a Sunday afternoon. I will even cheer if a team I follow wins. I even know a couple football songs!

However, I really don’t understand why people love sport. By love, I mean really love. There is a certain kind of emotional investment that a fan has with his or her team that – to me – borders on the obsessive and possibly a little crazy. But hey, we all have our passions, don’t we?

If you ask a sports fan why they like their team, you will probably get comments such as:

• -It’s MY team.
• -It’s because my parents support Snickerdoodle United. It’s a family tradition.
• -You are just asking that because you are a Doodlesnicker fan.
• -Shut your face or I will shove this pint up your ass!

The jury is still out on whether this kind of obsession is healthy or not. My main gripe with sport is not the loyalty of fans; or even the fact that people have decided it is a fun thing to go out on the weekend and play with balls while beating the crap out of each other. Sometimes, sticks are involved.

 I don’t even care about the amount of money involved in something that is nothing more than a game. The main issue I have is with the amount of competition in general, and the worship of competition as if it would be a positive thing to value in a civilised society.

A little competition can be a hugely motivating factor; the goal of being ‘the best’ is essentially what every professional works towards. However, competition to me is the drive to win at the expense of others. Some people may see this as a positive thing. I am not so sure.

In my high school years, I remember playing volleyball in a team. I sucked. Then, I tried basketball. I sucked at that, too.

I did learn one very good lesson. If you suck at sport, you don’t get selected for teams. You can go and read in a corner as long as you don’t disturb anyone. This suited me just fine.

The value of competition above cooperation encourages people to consider their own needs above the needs of others. This can have some dangerous and disastrous consequences.

Consider the current financial situation we have on our hands. We have banks, retailers and governments all fighting about how best to spend our money. Since the money we have is limited, we need to decide what we purchase. Hence, competition is thought to be needed.

Competition is said to drive better and fairer prices, but I think this rarely actually happens. Competition means that you can purchase one item which is the same, or as similar as, another item. The main difference is in the price, and quality. The retailer does not care about the consumer; they only care about how much more money they have than their competitors.

In a competitive environment, there is usually politics, infighting, and a general lack of empathy. It’s all about winning in the end, instead of the journey to get there.

I value cooperation more than I value competition. This is mainly because I think that, in general, cooperation results in greater efficiency and innovation. It seems logical to me. Work together, share ideas and we can finish our job and get down to the pub earlier. Heck! I’ll even get the first round!

Perhaps we do need a bit of healthy competition to spice things up; to add a bit of danger. However, the amount of competition we have in society these days does leave a rather nasty taste in my mouth.

You don’t need a better car than Mr Nesbit down the road. You don’t need to own the latest gadget or the most fashionable designer label to feel ‘vindicated’, and a winning part of a team. You really don’t need to be better than anyone else to be happy.

If you do, you aren’t winning; you lose. 

Right now I am sitting at my desk, trying to look busy while not actually doing anything at all. It’s a Friday morning and –although I adore the organization I work for – the work itself is incredibly tedious and boring.

 Such is the life of an administration assistant. One task might be engaging and interesting, while another task could be something a trained ape could do – like data entry. Unfortunately, my current job involves a lot of the latter.

 Oh! How I loathe data entry! Filling in endless data sets for the sole purpose of collating information and pouring it into a status report template is not my idea of a fun thing to do at work.

 Some fun things I like to do at work besides data entry:

• - Stare at traffic. I do this a lot since my cubicle overlooks the Freeway.  I once saw a group of bikies getting arrested, and once there was a truck that lost its load.  Both incidents caused absolute chaos and it was all very amusing with a hint of Schadenfreude.

• - Make coffee. This is a nice way to break up hours of mindless tedium, and also allows me to partake in one of my favourite addictions – caffeine!

• - Write a blog entry. I am a terrible procrastinator when it comes to writing. I know I should; I enjoy it when I do it. However, I have so much trouble getting started that I never get on with it. When the choice is between doing data entry and writing a blog post, guess which one wins?

• - Discuss politics with co-workers. This one can be a little tricky, as you need to balance your personal politics with a sense of discretion and timing. For example, yelling out “F**K THE BANKS” in the middle of a meeting is not the easiest way to make new friends at work, although a bit of banter with someone you have a rapport with is a perfectly acceptable way to waste 10-20 minutes.   

 I also enjoy attending meetings, especially those that don’t require minutes, because it means that I can sleep.

I really like sleep.