Why I hate facebook

I’ve been without Facebook for a year or so now. 

After seeing what a wonderful time people were having on nights out (yet failing to put there phone down and enjoying) I decided Facebook had to go.

We seem to live in a selfi perfect looking life that we love to self promote on Facebook.  The wonderful meals we cook, wonderful nights out, days out with the kids, while promoting this perfect life for our social network friends.

There was friends on Facebook that I hadn’t spoke to in years yet I knew were they was and what they eaten last weekend. Family members that failed to contact me other then Facebook and now it’s gone I done see or hear of them.

When I’ve been out on day trips with friends and children they have spent lots of the time setting photos up in front of things while me and my children carry on playing. For what? Memories? Or the Facebook community? Sharing your whole life with people that really couldn’t give a shit about you but will judge you on your Facebook life anyway.

The parents that post photos of all their kids Christmas and birthday presents, this annoys the hell out of me. How do we know they may have got a payday loan to pay for it? Credit card? Yet in the world of Facebook all we see is how much money they can spend on their kids. It’s a fake life. A fake Facebook life that we all buy into.

I know people that lie on Facebook, about jobs, money etc. And filter the hell out the photos. I ask once, why? Why lie? And they said because Facebook let’s me be who I want to be and when I get a like’s it makes me feel good. So does that mean we are all fake on Facebook? Do we all need a ‘like’ to be truly happy? Or we can never realistically do or be the person we really want to be?

I refuse to play into the fake Facebook life. I refuse to waste mine and my kids time telling people how wonderful our life is, because it is. I don’t need approvals to know that. 

I believe facebook creates anxiety and paranoia. It also create a target for easy bullying, and opens you up to dodgy people that you don’t know at all. Facebook status offending people without actually saying names setting in paranoia. 

I belive Facebook promotes mental health issues, self confidence and self doubt and I refuse to allow myself indulge in it. 

Featured post

Missing dad 

I forgot about my dad.

It was father’s day yesterday, I helped my daughters choose something for their dad, got flowers for my father-in-law’s grave. The halfway through the day it suddenly dawned on me…..I never even got my own dad anything. 

I was annoyed at myself for forgetting. But then I got angry and upset. Upset that our relationship has deteroated that much I never gave him a second thought. 

When I was 11 I found out he wasn’t my real dad. My whole world crashed down. I was so angry. Yet we never spoke about it. It was a forbidden subject even to this day at the age of 35. 

After that we didn’t know how to carry on. I felt dis-connect with my family. Felt I had no belonging. I was different. I didn’t know who I was. My mom refused to aknowledge the situation and our relationship became more strained. I was the outsider. 

I’m sad that it’s came to this. Yet I think times gone our relationship is that strained I no longer think of him.

I do miss my dad. I get jelous of others and there close relationship with their dad. There was a time when I’d be in denial and claim our relationship was good. 

We don’t talk. He doesn’t call to wish me happy birthday, or even to see how I am. I’ve never been out for a meal with him or my mom. 

 My daughter doesn’t even realise I have a dad.

When men have kids and walk away they never see the men and women at the end of that choice. Yet we fail to notice when the mothers don’t tell their children who their dad is. They fail to be honest and end up it being blurted out in a family argument. Then protest it was for the best.

We are the product at the end of the deceit. I’m the women at the end that firstly doesn’t know who my real dad is, and secondly the man I thought was my dad isn’t. 

In the end I’ve still lost out. I still don’t have a relationship with my dad real or not. 

So to all the women that fail to tell their kids that their kids dad is not their real dad remember the person at the end of it. Their the ones that lose out. I have and my children have lost out on a grandad. And that’s the thing that makes me sad. 

Pregnancy and depression 

As I sit and cry for what seems like hours, I’ve finally admitted that perhaps I’ve got pregnancy depression.

I can deal with anxiety, least I can still feel like I’m functioning,  but this is horrendous.

I’ve hid it well. My smile hides what’s really underneath. I’m trying to carry on as normal. But it seems that no matter what I put on the outside – inside I’m screaming. 

I’m struggling to get my get up and go. I don’t want to cook, I don’t want to go to work. I’m struggling to make small talk with people. I’m craving for sleep. Always tired. My morning sickness is still plaguing me and even the smallest of car journeys is making me ill. So then my diet is appalling due to me craving carbs to make me feel better.

My concentration is poor and I’m struggling to focus on conversation’s. Anxiety seems to somewhat taken a back seat. This feeling has crept up on me as my pregnancy has progressed. I’m scared. Scared of losing my shit, scared of losing me. I’m scared that this feeling is going to plagued for the rest of my pregnancy. 

I cry at the silliest things. The smallest of things set me of. Hormones? Maybe. But I’m better then this. I know I am. I’m stronger than this. I’m the kinda girl that can live in my own company happy. I make everyday count. Not now.

I should be happy. I’ve no real worries. I’ve got two beautiful children, I’m lucky enough to be having one more. I’ve got a nice job, relationship is good.

Something silly set me of today.  To silly to even write it down. But it’s opened the flood gates. I’m ashamed of myself. Ashamed of what I’m becoming. Ashamed of the mental health that I fear will never leave me. 

So today I finally admitted defeat. I’ve finally held my hands up and said enough is enough and I’ve  booked the doctors. 

My children don’t deserve this, my unborn baby doesn’t. Yet I’m scared. Scared of this sadness. 

I hope today is the first step. I hope I can get my happiness back. Get me back. 

Anxiety and friendship 

After having suffering my friend ‘anxiety’ for past few years, I’ve learnt to live alongside it. It becomes my routine.  It becomes you, and people tend to work around you and your anxiety. 

It’s like the friend that you can shake or rid of yet you want it there.  

Sometimes anxiety is your only friend. Your only true friend.

I came to realise that people suffer anxiety because they care to much. We care about what others think. We care when others let us down. We care for our unknown future. We care far to much for friends that never seem to recprate our feelings.

I can’t help but think would I be the same without anxiety? Do people enjoy me having anxiety as I’ll always be there caring. Or needing them.

My main worry at the moment is that friends are no longer wanting to be my friend.  Am I driving people away? Or am I in my anxiety state of mind? 

I seem to spend time waiting for friends to text, I always seem to do it first. Asking if there ok? But what about me? What if I’m not OK ? but they don’t see me or perhaps it’s my anxiety making me unseen. I long for people just to spend time with me not just to ‘catch up’. 

It makes me wonder if I should keep trying. Should I carry on? Or just stop trying. Stop being there. I’m not unkind like that and would drive my anxiety through the roof but what alternative do I have?

I’m so lucky I have the few friends I do. I’d trade 10 of so called friends and have the few I do have. 

Perhaps I’m lookin to much into it. Perhaps I just need more from a friendship. 

Perhaps it’s time to say goodbye? 

The creep called self-doubt

My happiness has somewhat left me these as few weeks. I’m not sure if it’s my pregnancy hormones, but I feel the shadow of self doubt slowly creeping back into my life.

It started with seeing posts on instergram. How glamorous someone looked, fashionable and beautiful. I suddenly felt little. A little voice saying ‘look at the state of you’. 

Now, I’m a comfy girl. Never been a dress up girl. When I was younger I was happy with that. Content. Yet now at 35 I feel I should be more ‘fashionable’ were more makeup, well, just stop being me. But then I fail to remember, I’m a mom of two. Busy school runs, I work unsociable hours, most of the time I barely have the time to shower let alone take care of fashion.

Yet no one has given me this self doubt. I’ve given it myself. I’ve allowed it to take me. I’ve allowed social media to define me. I’ve allowed it to follow me like a bully telling me how worthless I really am. 

Social media is a blessing and a curse. I hate the way it can damper your self confidence in one post. I hate the way everyone leads perfect existence and then shows of about it. How ‘in love’ they are. How they can’t wait for kids to open all their presents in the morning. How it’s raining and take a quick selfie with a slightly more confused look then usual.

I then start to question me. Why am I not like that?  

I don’t see what others see in me. I don’t see what my daughters see. I only see my flaws. My negatives. Not what people love. I’m to busy comparing myself to others on their pimped up social media accounts. I’m to busy living to post numerous of make-up heavy sefies. And if I did get five min I’d rather read or take a nice bath ( oh how I wish! )

Today I made a promise. 

Firstly I will limit my time on social media.

 I’m going to keep being me. Not to change. And be thankful I’m different, embrace it. 

Every morning I’m going to look in the mirror and pay myself a compliment. 

Lastly never forget to keep doing what I love, stop allowing other things to define me. 

No one tells me these negative things, I tell them myself. But you know what? I’m the example of set my daughters. And everyday I must remember they love me for me.

Learning to love other people’s inperfections 

Throughout my quest to be free from worry, I’ve learnt so much about myself and others.  The recently I’ve learnt ‘being negative will only attract negative people’

As a perfectionists, I tend to get annoyed with those who don’t do as I would do. Instead of celebrating difference. 

Most of my time I seem to spend moaning about people and things. People I cannot change, things I cant change, yet in my mind moaning about them makes me feel ‘better’ or does it?

It makes me a negative person. When I’m hopefully in my old age, I don’t want to look back and think ‘why was I so consume by other people’s faults’ when ultimately I’m creating faults of my own.

I then attract the same sort of people. The same people as me. They match my negativity. We complement each other with our grey outlook on life and we look for imperfections in others. This unfortunately makes me, unapproachable. And ultimately a unhappy person.

I cannot change anyone. I cannot change things that happen. What I can change is me. My attitude to situations.

I decided that I will no longer make criticism of those who annoy me or do me wrong. I’ll no longer look for the imperfections on others when I’m far from perfect myself. I’ll no longer treat people the way they treat me, it only makes me sad, annoyed and bring my own negativity to the situation. 

My challenge this week to think positive, be positive and look for good in everything and everyone. 

I cannot change anyone. Only myself. 

Daring to be different – happy journey 

On my happiness journey, I’m discovering thing’s that matter to me, and making sense of my own happiness, and what makes me ‘tick’ 

I was listening to the radio, a station that I like, it’s not something your average person my age would listen to. I then turned it over as I thought ‘I shouldn’t be listening to this I should be listening to something more ‘modern”. I then thought, why? 

Why does it matter what I listen to or watch.  I’ve noticed lately that saturday night TV bores me, yet I’ll watch the things that I know everyone else is watching. I follow the crowds. I’m a sheep. I’m influenced by social media. Not making my own choice. 

It’s been the same with blogging. At first I found I was blogging about stuff I thought people wanted. I read lots of blogs and tended to follow their subjects not writing what I want to, what I feel passionate about. As I thought people won’t like it or even read it. (Anxiety mind again- but anyway why should it matter how many retweets you get? I’m doing this for passion!)

Twitter is a major influence.  It can influence opinion’s, your choices, and sometimes, your afraid to say what you really want to, or to write about what you love.

So, today I made a decision. 

 I’m going to listen to my old headed (not for my age) radio station. I’m going to watch a documentary on Saturday nights that take my interest or even turn the TV of and read. I’m going to write what I’m passionate about and not be afraid of who I am. (Which I’m already doing)

I’m going to be proud to be different. I always feel guilty for who I am. But you know what? I’m going to do all the things that make me firstly happy and secondary do the things that make me ME. I will choose not to be influencedby social media and other people. I will dare to be different. 

On my search for happiness and anxiety free,  I’m going to stop confiding myself to the normal following the crowd and be me ! 

I also dare you to take the challenge ! 

Be a leader to your own happiness not a sheep ! 

Xx

Afraid of happiness 

I realised something.  

My body and mind don’t know what to do with happy feelings.

This may seem like a strange statement to say and it is.

 I’ve noticed a few times, that whenever I’m happy I tend to shake, and cry. I get an overwhelming feeling I simply cannot put into words,  I can’t talk or get my words out all I can say is at that moment I’m happy. 

As most of my life has been plagued with anxiety, depression, and generally miserable. I’m a glass half empty kinda girl. When ever I feel content with things I tend to stop myself and think of something for me to worry about or get upset about, I’ll dwell on the negative things, or repeat conversations round in my head. I’ll analysis everything till I’m anxious and wound up and again, miserable.

I was in the park with my girls and we was watching a parade. Totally random and silly, but the joy on their face, the noise, the lovely atmosphere it made me happy. So I then started stuttering, crying, and shaky, it sounds absolutely crazy but it’s like my body cannot deal with happy feelings. It’s happened a few times this strange feeling when I’m happy. 

This made me so sad. Sad that I’m not use to being happy. Sad that my anxiety, self loathing, has made me that miserable I cannot deal with happy feelings.

I’m not sure how to approach or deal with this. And I sound totally bonkers. The only way I can approach this is to be happy more often. To embrace happy feelings. To cry if I have to and not hold back. Learn to be happy and stop any negative thought’s that can bring me down.

It makes me realise how sad I’ve been. And how that has carried on for most of my life. I’m scared to be happy. 

My body is scared of the feelings.

But now I’ve realised that I’m hoping I can now start to embrace happiness. Welcome it. Hold onto it. This is the first day. I’m going to enjoy happiness and let it take over me and my life ! 
Xxx

It’s OK not to love your family 

I wrote before about my relationship with my mom. At the age of 35 it seems more complicated and complex then ever.

You see, my mom lies. Lies a lot. Not major things, but silly things. My sister also lies a lot. She seems to paint herself as this character she’s not. Yet my mother fails to see that my sister has learnt it from her.

It’s white lies. My mom seems to keep me and my siblings apart. She seems to make me feel I’m different. I’m not worthy of their time.  She came to the park with us last week, she didn’t even push my daughter on the swing. She stayed for 5 minutes and said my dad needed her at home. 

This hurts. It hurts that I crave her love. Her honestly. It hurts that I don’t feel that unconditional love I want and need. She’s failed me so many times, I couldn’t write down how. I don’t think I’ve dealt with it myself.  Yet I go back for more. I then will torture myself after phone calls and make myself so angry for allowing her in my life.

We all belive that we should have our family around regardless of the hurt they cause. I now don’t belive in unconditional love. I don’t belive that every women who gives birth to their child loves them in a way they should.  I know my mom doesn’t.  I feel she feels she has to pretend, I feel she’s fake around me. And it’s her own fault.

But for some reason I cannot let go. The situation makes me so unhappy. Yet I can’t distance myself. It’s like I love the drama ( I dont) or I’m a martyr.

Reading something today gave me a little bit of hope. 

I have to let it go.

I need to smile, and box it up, and forgive her.

Forgive her for being a crap mom, worse grandmother. I have to learn that in her eyes she’s not doing anything wrong. She’s always been like this. And I cannot change her or any of my selfish family. But I can change. I need to.

The love I have for my kids overwhelm’s me. And my mom hasn’t been so lucky. Yet I am. The fact I have my children here makes me feel the need to break away. Breakaway from their negativity and set myself free.

The only way I can do that is to forgive her and move on. Other wise I will forever be in a cycle of hate and I cannot live my days with hate and anger. 

Sometimes our families are not good for us,  and there seems to be a taboo about it or disgust when people say they have no contact with their family. Today I see why. Sometimes moms and dads are not great people or even lovable. I’m one of them, and for now I have to be OK with that. I have to be OK and never to be like them.

So no shouting, crying about it. For now I say, mom you crack on with it. And for me, blood isn’t always thicker.  And quite often it isn’t. 

Lots of love xx

My happiness what’s yours?

Happiness is what we all strive. It’s what we crave. To be happy. To die happy. Yet, many of us feel that we are not. We are too poor, not enough friends, an awful childhood that haunts us and ruins the future and present day. Too many things as reasons to make us unhappy.

Yet, when it comes down to it how are we measuring our happiness? Comparing ourselves on social media? Forgetting that it’s an incredible mask to show how ‘happy’ and incredible our friends and family life’s are. The reality TV shows,  were girls seems to have endless of money and not a 9-5 job. They have beauty we can only dream of. The friends that are always busy going here there everywhere while your stuck in with nowere to go. The friends that have endless social lives.

Happiness is different to each of us. We measure it differently, yet sometimes I think we are that busy looking at what everyone else has, what we feel we should have to be happy. 

So, today,  I had a think of MY HAPPINESS. What is my happiness, what does it feel like? How do I feel? 

My happy is listening to my children laughing. Proper belly laughing. It gives me a warmth that I cannot describe and feel’s me with complete unconditional love. 

When my 2 year old gets into bed at 2am in the morning and puts her hand on my face. 

When I’m stuck into a good book, with baby napping beside me.

A sunny day, and I’ve managed to dry all my washing ! (Yes really !)

A random text of partner ‘ I love you’

A silly conversation with my 4 year old then giggling together. 

A long soak. 

Meal with close friends and cake after- with NO regret or calorie counting.

My hair looking OK. 

Writing or waffling!  

Finishing work little bit early and managing to watch soaps before bed.

These things make ME happy.  This is my happiness. Yes it’s silly things. But our happiness is different for all of us. We should never measure our happy to others. And that’s what makes us all fab and different. 

 So when you feel rubbish. Take a step back and look at your happy ! 

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