Someday I'll wish upon a star, wake up where the clouds are far behind me...

So late last week, a good friend of mine chose to end his life. I found out on Tuesday morning, and have been in a state of disbelief ever since.

Nick was so vivacious, and full of life. He had the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met. He wouldn't hesitate to help anyone who needed it. We worked together as vet nurses for 2 years - I think I could count on one hand the number of times I had seen him mad or angry. And even then, I wouldn't need every digit. He was a prankster, and a cheeky shit, but he was never mean or hurtful to anyone.

I can't even imagine how much pain he was in, in order to feel like that was his only option. And he was so loved, and beloved (the church full to bursting was evidence of that). He has two daughters that meant the absolute world to him - there is no chance he would have left them if he felt like he had a better choice.

Yesterday I drove down to the funeral. I got about 20 minutes into a 90 minute drive before I realised - I wasn't going to see him again. I knew I was going to say goodbye, but it hit me that I would never see his face again. That, physically, all he would be was a body in a box. That was hard.

Arriving at the church - it was heartwarming, and heartbreaking, to see the turnout of people who had come to say goodbye to this gentle giant. It was nice to see people I used to work with, who I haven't seen in a few years, although such horrific circumstances to bring us together. Walking into the chapel, and seeing the coffin - it didn't look big enough. He was larger than life - how on earth was he reduced to fitting into this small space? He was such a presence - I mean, he was 6 foot tall, and not a small guy, but he also just filled a room with his personality.

There was a slide show playing - these photos of happy Nick. It was so hard to associate those pictures with what was happening. How could it be possible that we were here for this reason?

His mum spoke - I can not imagine the pain of outliving your children. Whenever I have been really low and down, my Dad is the only thing that gets me through. I could not do that to him. I know that there are others in my life who love me, but I could not bear the thought of my Dad going through that. He doesn't realise that he has literally saved my life...

The vets from the clinic (where we met and worked together) got up to speak. The owner of the clinic - he has been a vet for 40 years, he is a stoic guy, and I have never seen him upset by anything. He gave this amazing tribute - reminding everyone of the kind of person Nick is was. The tales of his pranks and shenanigans, but also how passionate he was about his job, and how much he cared about everyone he worked with. Nick had started at the clinic as an after school job, and then worked there on and off for the last 22 years. He will forever be a part of that place, and it will never be the same without him. And then Mike told this story, about buying a big tree to plant for Nick, and broke down. It was heart wrenching. Next up was Dr Nick, the sidekick to Nurse Nick. Those two were as thick as thieves - best buddies. Again, so heart broken, and heart breaking.

Nick, if only you had realised how much everyone loved you, would it have helped? If you realised how much pain and heartbreak you would cause, would it have made a difference?

And the hardest was yet to come - when family and friends were to carry Nick out of the chapel. When it hit you, and you realised that this was it. He really was gone, and he wasn't coming back. That this is all that remained of someone who meant so much to so many. A box.

We then gathered together - shared our shock and our memories. Tried to figure out how everyone would be able to move past this shock and grief. The questions, the guilt, the confusion. Suicide makes people feel like they weren't adequate, that they didn't do enough, that maybe if they had been more, that if only Nick had reached out and asked for help, that we wouldn't be here saying goodbye.

I went out to the cemetery for a final goodbye - the spot chosen for him is quite beautiful. It is up high, with lovely views of trees and the surrounding hills. It is peaceful, and he will be able to rest there. The sun came out.

I hadn't been in regular touch with Nick for a wee bit. Life gets busy, we lived in different cities. We chatted every now and then on Facebook and kept in contact, but we had both been a bit slack. It is easy to take for granted that people will always be there. Until you realise that that is not the case. Nick and I will never again have a beer, or tell inappropriate jokes, laugh over ridiculous things, share a loaf of sourdough...

He must have been in a lot of pain. I can not imagine this is a choice that he made easily. It wasn't like Nick to give up, and he was not a selfish person at all. I only hope that he can rest easy now, and that he is in peace.

And somehow, the rest of us, will have to learn how to go on without him being around...

I saw a shooting star and thought of you

Well, well, well. What do we have here?

An old blog post came up on my Facebook's 'On This Day' bullshit, and I clicked it and came here, and re-read a lot of my old posts. Turns out I didn't blog at all last year. Not once. Never. Nada. None.

Turns out there wasn't much to share anyway. I moved back into town, instead of at Dad's. More costly but nice to be closer to work and friends, and to have my own space. My job was made into another 12 month fixed term position, so I am still here. But with way more stress and who knows how much more longevity.

Reading back old posts made me cry. Mostly because I always try to be so determined about losing weight. It's exhausting.

I am currently more determined. Most determined even. I have been exercising regularly for over a year. Regularly being 3 times a week or more. I was doing small group sessions 3 times a week with a PT, and about 3-4 other women, which was hard but fun. And now the PT has left us so that has disbanded. But I have joined a gym, and doing some PT sessions there once a week, with a friend. And then going another 3 times or so to do weights or cardio. Just re-started taking Spin/RPM classes, which are horrible but fun in their own way.

However the weight is not really shifting. That's because food still is, and continues to be, the beast to battle. I have signed up with a nutritionist who I check in with once a week. That fell to the wayside over the Christmas/New Year period, but back to it this week.

Not sure about anything else at the moment. No idea what I want to do with my life job/career wise. Single, and only kind of keen to mingle - I have recently realised just what an independent fucker I am, and I do not like sharing my space if I don't have to (I mean, I had an inkling...). So whoever they are might just have to be amazing in order to have any change on that.

And that's all I have to say about that.

I can beat the night, I'm not afraid of thunder

The mind is a very, very tricky and sneaky little thing. It really is the biggest hurdle to overcome when wanting to make any changes. 

On the one hand, I am miserable. I hate being this big. I hate feeling this way about myself, and being disgusting when I see myself and realise how big I have become. I almost made excuses yesterday as to why I could not go and spend time with family members, because I am embarrassed about how much weight I have put on in the last couple of years since I last saw my cousin and his partner.

And yet, after adopting a better lifestyle for the last two weeks (not too rigid), I weighed myself on the weekend and I had lost 2kgs. You'd think I would be excited right? I was. And then I almost sort of panicked. That's not the right word for it, but I don't know how to describe it. Rather than, woohoo this is working and let's keep going, it was more, oh shit really, now what do I do?

I think I am scared of losing the weight and being successful. I don't know if it is because I don't feel like I don't deserve it (reaching a goal and being proud or happy with myself), or if it is just that I have been fat for so long that I don't know how to be anything else, or who I will be if I lose the weight? Or have I just been using my weight as an excuse for so long, as to why I can't do things, that it scares me to no longer have it is a crutch or a reason? I don't even know.

I spend time last week with my friend and her adorable 5 month old baby, and then with my cousin and his almost 2 year old little girl. I want kids. So much so that it almost hurts. And I know I need to lose weight to get there. And yet that is not motivation. Am I scared of being a shite mother? Or that I will have fertility issues and it would be easier to forgo that heartache? Or still, afraid of being happy and having what I want?

Getting healthy and losing weight in order to be healthy and live longer and whatnot doesn't seem to work.

Or is it just that this slow torturous form of suicide is still exactly what I want? I had thought that I was past that, since there's so many things I want to do and see. But perhaps that is overwhelming too.

Too many thoughts going on in this crazy head of mine....

I will not let myself cause my heart so much misery

So I have 28 weeks (including this week) at my current job (also known as 6 months). It is just a fixed term position and then I have to make choices again. So in order to aid this choice making situation, during this time period I aim to:

- Pay off all outstanding bills (personal loan, credit card) and save my arse off. No matter what I decide to do (travel, have babies, etc), it requires money. The more the better. I have loads of stuff I don't need so will try to sell anything that is worth more than $10, and cut down on frivolous, unnecessary spending. I might even sell my Ed Sheeran tickets for December, seeing as I already saw him this year. And its in Auckland. Maybe.... Anyway, time to update the budget and tighten things up.

- And on that note, getting rid of clutter. It is actually ok to throw stuff away (my Dad would argue against it). Or donate it (clothing/shoe bins, etc). I do not need half the stuff I have. If I say I do, I'm probably lying.

- Eat healthier. I have fallen back into shoddy eating habits. The warmer months do make it easier to eat more salads (with tasty ingredients included so I don't feel like a rabbit), and things rather than stodgy, warming foods. Breakfast, healthy snacks, and cooking proper dinners. Even meal prepping and having food in the freezer!!

- Move more. I do belong to a gym. I do like classes. I also have a beach nearby to walk on (and even job once I get a bit more mobile and less painful), and to swim in once it's warmer. Trying to find more active things to do, eg when catching up with friends. I really want to learn to kayak. Also use weights at home (I do belong to a gym filled with them but it's a bit intimidating at the moment).

- Commit to learning the guitar - get actual lessons (this will eat into savings but I have been wanting to do it for ages, and I even own a guitar). Now that I am not working shift work and nights, I don't have that excuse. I need to find a teacher. And just do it. That way, I have an instrumental skill when I'm traveling (for in the Canadian wilderness around a campfire, obviously), or I can play the guitar to my baby....

That's it actually. Doesn't seem too bad.

An ominous landscape of never-ending calamity

So I've been looking back over photos from when I was overseas, and realising that it was 10 years ago is just mind boggling. I like travel. In fact, I would go so far as to say I love it. Discovering new places and things and cultures and people. When I went I thought it was partly to find myself, as naive 20-somethings do. But I think it was more to lose myself. It makes you appreciate home and the people in your life so much more. And it's amazing to be part of something so much bigger than yourself and your problems. It gives you a different perspective on life. Especially when you see how lucky we are in NZ, compared to the problems of other countries in the world and the scale of their issues.

And it makes me want to go overseas again. I miss it. I want to discover new things and places.

But then I have the issue of which I want more. Travel, or babies. Not that I can't have both. But both require money and so need prioritising.

And I think, travel and then babies, because then I can travel selfishly and it will be cheaper, etc. But then I go shopping for clothes for my friends' kids (just turned 1 and 2) and almost cry over the baby clothes, and end up leaving without buying anything. And I think, okay so babies first. But is it just hormones talking?

Either way, I need to save up, and lose weight/get healthy. The weight and health is obvious for babies, but I also want to be able to do amazing things if I go overseas - climb mountains and hike through wildernesses (especially in Canada). And then once I'm ready for either, then I can make the decision.

So then I need to make a vision board with both options I suppose....

Still a little bit of your words I long to hear

So it's been a while since my last update. A few things have changed:

- I got sick of being treated like crap at my job and resigned. I thought it was the dream vet nursing job, but that turned out to be a big fat lie. The job itself had it's moments, but was generally really depressing and just confirmed for me that I do not want to do emergency and referral work. It can be exciting, but give me the mundanity of general practice veterinary work any day. Especially referral medicine cases. It sucks when you feel like only half of your patients walk back out the front door again. Some of the team I worked with were awesome, and some of them were really really really not awesome at all. The job is too stressful to be able to cope with shitty people as well. And I don't really need anything extra to add to the downward slope of my mental health. I think being told by my "mum" that her and my dad had had meetings to discuss me, and thoughts of interventions, might have been the critical point that made me realise it is just not worth it.

- So now I am in an admin role. It's great. It is only fixed term at this stage, while someone else goes off to have baby (and I try not to get the eye twitch of jealousy for all things baby related).  So it's until the end of March. I will try to win them over with my awesomeness so they find a way to keep me, but even if I don't, I'm determined to not freak out over the uncertainty of what I will be doing after that time.

- I have moved out of my temporary country paradise and back home to Dad's. I am a lot more comfortable about that than I have been before. I love my Dad to pieces, it's easy, cheaper, and who knows how much more time I will get with him (fingers crossed for the rest of my life, but the universe can be fickle). Plus Diesel is pretty chilled out there which is nice. Room to run around, trees to climb, rodents/birds to catch outdoors. And I have the bonus of bugger all lights at night or pollution, so the sky is beautiful and clear and full of stars to gaze at. I find that actually, despite the shittyness of his small kitchen, it's easier to cook at Dad's too. In the country I had a fancy pants big kitchen that I loved, but living on your own isn't as fun. Now I get to cook for Dad too. It's kind of nice.

- With the out-of-routine-ness of my shitty job, which involved shift work - nights, weekends, holidays, 12 hour shifts, generally crap - and people that I needed to escape from, and general excuse-making, I have loaded on even more weight. Talking to Dad last night and he mentioned how big he was at his heaviest, which turned out to only be about 100kgs. I was looking through my old photos from Ireland (wanderlust and itchy feet are making themselves very present), and thinking how big I felt then, and yet that was double digits and almost 30kgs ago. Gah. Babies and travel need to motivate me. Or I just need to motivate myself. Something. Broken record syndrome I know, but somehow I need to fix this. I need to find the fire within me to get myself going.

That about wraps up my update. Spring tomorrow - bring on longer days, and pretty flowers, and baby animals everywhere!

Bandaids don't fix bullet holes....

I'd been feeling like work was getting better. Although the last week has involved so many euths and sad cases, and it does definitely get hard.

Worst of all though is the bullying. I have never had an issue with any place I've worked before, but now I am about to have my second "performance" meeting in a few months, thanks to someone who keeps complaining about me. Since the first meeting (held in March, about "issues" from Christmas - so nice and timely), I have given 200% more so that no one has reason to have any such complaints. And yet just yesterday I received an email requesting another 'informal' meeting to discuss performance issues.

I don't feel like I do any less than anyone else regularly does - I make sure the patients are all looked after the best that they can be, as well as doing loads of cleaning, washing etc. I don't get it. I know the Christmas problems were primarily from one person, and were all pretty petty. She doesn't seem to hide the fact that she doesn't like me, or think I'm good enough as a nurse. Despite the fact that she is only in her early 20s and hasn't graduated that long ago.

I don't really know what to do. I don't love the job enough to put up with being driven to tears regularly by someone singling me out to bitch about me to my bosses. But at the same time, I don't want to let bullying drive me out of my job either.

Ugh.