Sleepless Nights

Author: Veronica

  • On managing social anxiety and learning to be myself

    I have terrible social anxiety. Or, I used to. I’m not sure anymore.

    Two years ago, I couldn’t talk to strangers. I’d avoid eye contact, smile politely, mouth the right words to the cashier and walk away, never having connected with anyone. I was in a bad place and not only couldn’t I talk to anyone – when I did finally talk to people, I would be crippled by the fear of what they thought of me. Did I talk too much, laugh too loud, speak too strongly? Was I enough? Was I too much?

    It was tough, so I just stopped and basically became a very polite recluse.

    Shortly after,  I became part of the team organising the Aussie Bloggers Conference. Conference day came around and yes, I wanted to vomit, but I had no choice. I HAD to talk to people. This was my job and part of my job was making sure as many people as possible felt as welcome as possible.

    I went into that trip determined to have fun and I did. I talked to everyone I saw, asked them questions, listened to their answers and was not told I was an idiot by anyone.

    Throughout that day, I realised that people are incredibly forgiving and that the people who aren’t forgiving have their own issues.

    It wasn’t an epiphany that changed my life overnight, but it was the beginning of the building blocks I needed to get over myself.

    Over the last twelve months, I’ve attended a few conferences, a couple of blogging events and a music festival. I’ve forced myself to make eye contact with strangers, to start conversations and to smile at everyone. 95% of the people I have met have been amazing.

    You know what? It gets easier with practise. Nowadays, I can almost forget that I have social anxiety when I start up a conversation with new people. At MONA FOMA, while I was waiting for The Dresden Dolls to perform, I talked to people. We laughed and chatted and danced and enjoyed the music. I didn’t know them, and yet, I pushed myself out of my comfort zone and had amazing fun anyway. I did the same thing the next night for the Supergroup and had just as much fun.

    People are clique-y. Yes.

    People are also, generally, quite nice and willing to talk to someone who strikes up conversation with them.

    [If they’re not nice, they’ve either got crippling social anxiety themselves, or they’re an arsehole. Be kind either way, both things are hard to live with.]

    I realised this week, as I sat down next to a couple of the school mums and struck up a conversation all by myself, that people don’t scare me so much anymore and it’s really nice.

    In fact, it is damn freeing to realise that I can just talk to people.

    People are interesting and people have stories and I want to hear what their stories are, without having to hide behind a computer screen to get there.

  • Really, this is about it.

    Getting back into the school routine has knocked the entire family around. Gone are the luxurious sleep-ins that Isaac wants and Amy is no longer able to raid the fridge before anyone else is awake.

    Now, if I was any sort of new and popular blogger, I’d have a series of tips here, complete with a shiny graphic. I’d be ready to tell you all about how to adjust your routine and make sure that everyone bounds out of bed without swearing at the alarm, or screaming.

    But of course, I’m me, and fabulous graphics are not really my thing, nor are tips and advice on how to live your life. Sorry, but you’ll have to buy a magazine for that.

    Instead, we’ve been stricken by an end of Summer cold. I use the royal “we” here, but really I mean Isaac and I. Amy, our darling germ carrier was a bit sniffly for a couple of days before improving today (thank god, because it’s photo day) and Nathan has had a sore throat that he’s very kindly shared with me.

    However, it’s onwards and upwards, because anything that doesn’t land Isaac in hospital is not really a bug worth whining about (sure, he sounds like a frog croaking, but he’s eating and playing cars).

    Pregnancy is going well, you know, all the usual bits and pieces happening. My pelvis falls apart on average twice a day, but I’m much better at putting it back together now. Babe is fluttering occasionally, enough to let me know that it isn’t dead in there and my uterus continues to expand at a normal rate(photos when I warm up enough to upwrap myself from the blankets I’ve wrapped around my shoulders – stupid body temperature).

    I had an antenatal appointment last week that consisted of a LOT of waiting, a lot of talking, a slightly panicked midwife (BUT YOU HAVE TO BE HIGH RISK!!!) and a calm, brilliant OB (Sure, you’re not low risk, but I accept that there isn’t going to be much we can do for you, and sure you can have midwife care).

    After two pregnancies with doctors and midwives alike panicking about the growth of my uterus and smaller than average babies, I’ve been set up with my very own personalised growth chart for this kid, hopefully averting professional panicking down the track. I’m not sure that 20th percentile babies are even all that much to worry about.

    Really, this is about it.

    How are you?

  • It’s the small things

    Sometimes, it really is the small things. You don’t notice them until you stop to look and then you wonder how on earth you missed them before.

  • If politicians were like mummy bloggers

    – There would be no talk of a leadership spill before it happened.

    – The entire spill and speculation would happen via email.

    – There would be no face to face discussion about it. Ever.

    – The Australian people wouldn’t know what happened until Julia and Kevin refuse to attend the same event.

    – Someone will be left standing on their soapbox screeching about “the good of the community” and how “they’re TEARING US APART”.

    – Support will be silently given and received.

    – Any information made public will have an overtone of “we know what’s best for everyone, so follow along and don’t worry about a thing”.

    – The second-in-command will let the power go to their head, and end up trying to micro-manage the ensuing conversation.

    – Everyone else will be entirely confused about what is happening, but they will all agree that it was a terrible terrible thing and please can’t we just move on.

    AND

    – At the end of the day, you will be left with split factions, who seem to think that they control some sort of power.

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  • On pregnancy, listeria and being risk aware

    We’ve all heard about the dangers of Listeria, supposedly lurking in every single piece of cold food that you didn’t prepare by hand, yourself. No soft cheeses, no restaurant salads, no uncooked egg based sauces, no ham, salami or other deli meats and certainly certainly no sushi.

    Today I made sushi using smoked salmon and I enjoyed every single mouthful of it. The benefit to eating something that I felt like eating, for me, far outweighed the minuscule risks associated with eating a cold prepared food.

    Listeria is a food poisoning. It isn’t a bacteria that is present in all cold food – no, it’s food poisoning that can potentially grow in cold prepared food and is killed by heating. You’ve probably got more chance of contracting salmonella than contracting listeria on any given day.

    And yet, I find that as soon as I’m pregnant, there is this Listeria Hysteria that surrounds every mouthful of food I eat. Does that contain ham? Has that lettuce been washed and stored properly? Is that egg cooked through entirely?

    I’m just a little bit sick of it. Especially considering if you’re hospitalised during your pregnancy, the hospital sends you up commercially prepared ham salad sandwiches for lunch anyway and the midwives don’t bat an eyelid.

    Pregnant women seem to become public property. Everyone suddenly has a say in what we’re putting into our bodies and it’s getting a bit ridiculous. I’ve already given up a lot of things in order for this pregnancy to progress safely, I don’t particularly feel like giving up all cold foods too.

    My baby might die from listeria – but also, I might get hit by a car tomorrow. Or a truck might crash into my bedroom. Or I might fall down a flight of stairs.

    I don’t think it’s about being frightened, so much as it’s about being risk aware. If I prepare sushi at home, using ingredients I trust, in a clean environment, then my chances of listeria are probably smaller than my chances of contracting salmonella, or breaking my nose walking into a wall (very real possibility).

    This is my fourth pregnancy and hopefully our third baby. Any number of things could go wrong yet. My chances of pre-term labour are higher than normal, my pelvis might fall apart, I might dislocate a hip and end up hospitalised. I might get an infection (again) and land in hospital for a week (again).

    Anything could happen, but provided I am careful, I am doubtful that it is going to contain listeria.