That lovely feeling of confidence

This time in two weeks I will have completed my one year beauty course. I did it. Put in the time and the energy and on the verge of completing, even though I shall be up to the line with the required assessments. It has been a mostly fabulous experience: nearly fifty years old and going back into a college environment with all the students and most of the tutors much younger. We have been a great group which has bonded well, been enthusiastic and worked our butts off. There have, however, been times when it has been extremely tedious and I have seriously wondered the merits of why I am doing this and what are the gains. Especially when I am repeating over a year most of what I had learned on very short and sharp courses it has sometimes seemed a time occupier that has kept me away from developing my co-existing beauty business and actually earning a decent income.

Now that I have also passed the entrance exam and been offered a place on the next level beauty course I am questioning the merits of another year at college. With a timetable that occupies more of a week I wonder if the end qualification is worth the time and investment involved. The pros and cons have been looked at and darling Mr Doris has been helpful in the discussions. Son even offered up his thoughts on the matter and really embraced the idea of his mother asking for his opinions. In the midst of discussions, an unofficial offer of a small financial present that would cover the enrolment and kit fees, or even towards expenses already incurred, came through. Is this the universe saying, "do it"?

This time next year I'd be completing that course and one thing I know I will have, is that delicious feeling of confidence in myself and my profession. Something that has been missing for so long. I remember it in my early twenties when I was a bit of a chef or a caterer. I just knew my stuff and that was all there was to it. Not a cocky arrogance, just a lovely feeling. I also had it when I worked with children. After two years of study and apprenticeship followed by some years experience I had that feeling of confidence in myself. Ever since I seem to have felt on the edge, not quite in control nor ever feeling quite so confident in me. I've walked the walk and talked the talk and generally given others the feeling I am very confident whilst inside was scared and barely holding on at times.

Already, in my new profession, I am feeling stronger and more confident and can see that growing even more. Whilst I might question the viability of taking out another year at college, and keeping business development on hold, I can not underestimate the gains to be made for my inner sense of peace and confidence.

"But" count = 0 found and none exterminated!

Counselling Treasures

These are from yesterday's session and if I don't write them down I may be scratching my head trying to remember them and at this stage I think they are well worth remembering or giving a try. And in no particular order:

• Time in itself is not the healer and you do need time. It is barely three weeks since the funeral and I seem to be expecting everything to be fixed and Rome to have been built, interior designed, decorated and fully functioning. Der!
• Change the "but" to "and". The subject of "but" came up in terms of negating or undermining, and I reflected how I had recently noticed I used "but" far too often in my writings. It was suggested I just simply change the "but" to "and" and see what happens.
• It takes four positives to counter-act each negative. I sort of knew that as an idea and not as a specific calculation and somehow that makes it workable. It accounts for so much now in the way I still find it hard to accept positives about myself because I am still in deficit. This gives me hope as I know the power balance WILL shift.
• It is a jigsaw I am still trying to work out or make some sense and that is OK. The glorious picture show I have created (not yet mentioned here on the blog) is of the wonderful, perfect mother I wanted, and that we all want and there is nothing wrong in that. The picture show is like the finished picture on the jigsaw box and I have still to sort out the pieces. And that is OK too.
• A person who had such a big impact in life will continue to have a big impact in death. At least for a while longer.
• Perhaps the things that are failing in my life are because I shouldn't be doing them in that way. Instead of beating myself up about my failings, acknowledge it is just not the way for me. Modern life is so stressful and we think we must do it this way and maybe there are different ways that are better for each of us.

We still talked a great deal about death; how the mind and the body are considered differently when they are interrelated; and quite a bit more. It was a good hour and I am back again next week on a weekly cycle for the moment.

"But" count = 3 found and exterminated!

Middle of the night

It is nearly four weeks later and I am not sure what I was thinking before but things sure are not whatever I thought they might be. I thought the holiday would create a brilliant curtain through which I walk from my old life into this brave new world. That all that was wrong would suddenly be right but hey, that has not exactly happened. The holiday was great, and just what the doctor ordered and am so glad we did it, but it didn't entirely provide that doorway. I have been up and down and in and out of some sort of stupor. Some parts of my life are getting back on track but other parts just lay around. From inside my body I look out and just look. Some things like answering the phone to clients are vital to any sort of a business but I just don't and I wonder why.

It is the middle of the night and I can not sleep so I have made camomile tea and sit here writing. I am about to dig out some of my writings about my childhood. All those things bounce around and seem to need some further processing. Some sort of attention. I am not crying but I am shocked and amazed and can not quite figure it all out in relation to the daughter I have been these past couple of years caring for my mother and looking out for her.

The night before last there was an episode of CSI Miami that had me pinned to my seat hardly daring to breathe. It was the case of the murder of the soccer mom who it turned out was abusive to her children in private. Her husband was complicit in the silence and web of lies to cope with her behaviour. The writer pressed buttons I had forgotten I had. One of the characters said she had an abuse test where she would go to brush a bit of fluff off a child's shoulder and if the child flinched she knew there was abuse. I am not sure what age I was before I stopped ducking but it did get a bit embarrassing when as a young independent adult no longer living at home that I still did it. All the way through the programme, the CSIs showed their disapproval of this deceased mother's behaviour and yet they showed only a mere fraction of what went on in our household. It once again struck me the night before last that I was abused as a child. And I suppose I can not reconcile that with now.

Tomorrow, or later today, I have a second session of counselling and then later a well woman check up. I think it a good idea in the light of my mother's illness that it is recorded on my notes that she did die and what from. I think I am in shock but I don't know why. I didn't expect this.