Person in the Mirror

Reflections on the life of Weejars


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PLEASE NOTE: Retirement of ‘Person in the Mirror’ Blog

My journey with blogging started over 5 years ago with this precious WordPress site called Person in the Mirror. Although it has been quite a dark blog at times, it has served a healing and cathartic purpose for me, after a series of miscarriages and my ongoing struggles with depression and anxiety. Thankfully, I am in now in a much better place and have decided to retire this blog. Starting afresh if you will!
If you have enjoyed my writing (which I sincerely hope you have!), never fear!  I have started a new blog called ‘By Sarah‘ and I hope you will come over, check it out and even follow me if you like what you read.
Thanks to all my readers and followers over the years (all 58 of you!)

You have supported me in ways you will never know.

Love and blessings,

Sarah (aka WEEJARS)

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Up on the airplane

There is something very unnatural about flying. Yep. In my mind, the fact that we as humans, don’t have wings, probably suggests we don’t belong in the air.

Yet, daily, thousands and thousands of people, venture into the skies to get to their meeting/holiday/wedding/reunion/weekend away/whatever-excuse-you-need-to-go-somewhere so much faster! And they LOVE it! Most people I know, enjoy that special feeling when you travel by air.

And I do get that. There is something almost VIP-ish about having someone check you in, screen you, grant you exclusive entry to the venue (aka the plane) and then serve you whatever you want in your seat.

And everything is so small and cute!
The small serving sizes of the snacks.
The small drinks.
The small TVs.
The small leg space.
The small toilet.
Even the delays are miniature.
‘There’s a slight delay’
‘We’ll be landing shortly’

But I digress.

I have a ‘small’ problem with flying. And that is that I have a terrible fear of it.
Nothing makes me feel sicker, more anxious or fearful, than from the moment of take off until the time my feet are firmly planted on solid ground again.

The lurching, dipping, vibrating, and constant roar of engines, invoke an undertone of terror that lasts the duration of the flight, making it impossible to relax and enjoy. I entertain visions of ‘how we are going to go down’ and listen attentively to safety and emergency presentations provided by the cabin crew. I have no doubt I would be the most well versed student should we be in an actual emergency.

And heaven forbid if we encounter any turbulence! Every jolt and shudder, I imagine rivets popping and wings detaching.
I wish I’d never watched ‘Air Crash Investigations‘!


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Don’t Panic

Bones, sinking like stones,
All that we fought for,
Homes, places we’ve grown,
All of us are done for.
And we live in a beautiful world,
Yeah we do, yeah we do,
We live in a beautiful world,

Bones, sinking like stones,
All that we fought for,
And homes, places we’ve grown,
All of us are done for.
And we live in a beautiful world,
Yeah we do, yeah we do,
We live in a beautiful world.

Here we go,
Here we go.

And we live in a beautiful world,
Yeah we do, yeah we do,
We live in a beautiful world.

Oh, all that I know,
There’s nothing here to run from,
Cos yeah, everybody here’s got somebody to lean on

source: http://www.lyricsondemand.com/
credit: Coldplay


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The only constant

I think about dying at least 10 times a day.
I’ll be busy going about my business and all of a sudden, wham! It hits me. I could DIE any second. I could literally, drop dead, at any time. Bam. Just like that. Who knows where? Who knows when? And who knows what the hell I may be doing when it happens (hopefully nothing embarrassing like sitting on the loo or um, heaven forbid, the middle of a more intimate situation!)

And believe it or not, that’s the good scenario!
I would much rather ‘go’ in an instant (and hence not really know about it) than linger on and on with some hideous illness, knowing that my death is imminent.

One might argue that knowing you are going to die would give you an opportunity to seek peace and let your loved ones know how you feel about them. And what your wishes are.

I think I would turn into a basketcase from the anxiety and fear, long before I could do that.

I suffer from terrible health anxiety as it is. Every twinge, spasm, growth, lump and bump, must surely be a heart attack/stroke/cancer or some other death sentence out to get me. It’s exhausting. And my line of work doesn’t help matters! I see the very worst of the human condition – there are SO MANY things that can go wrong!

I’ve been enduring a mild-ish ongoing panic attack about dying for over 6 months now. I’ve worked out some strategies to on the whole, keep it at bay, but sometimes, the fear just consumes me.

I wish I could turn off the switch and just go back to my happy-go-lucky, fear-of-death free existence. It’s no way to live with a shadow over your days. I guess the only consolation is that, inevitably, death is something we must all face. It is the only constant. Acceptance of that may just help me dispel the fear…


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Yuletide blues

With the ‘festive season’ nigh upon us, for me it brings a deep melancholy. I do not see this time as a happy or joyous one. It just reminds me of all I do not have in my life. As each day brings us closer, my mood becomes more and more brooding and somber. I cannot shake these Christmas blues. And the goodwill and cheer of others makes me wanna puke…

‘There are some people who want to throw their arms round you just because it’s Christmas, there are other people who want to strangle you just because it’s Christmas’ Robert Lynd

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Pieces of me

Lately, it feels like everybody wants a piece of me. Not in the ‘come-on-let’s-fight’ sense, but literally. A pound of flesh and all that. There just isn’t enough of me to go around.

My work, my friends, my family, my service club, my drumming group, my dogs…myself!

My head is starting to swim from the pressure of so many competing demands. Just thinking about all I have to do makes me feel overwhelmed, anxious and panicked. There just aren’t enough hours in the day!

I constantly have deadlines looming. I chase my tail trying to get on top of things again. I just want to secure some semblance of control. I seem to be the ‘can-do gal’ in everyone’s eyes but it’s exhausting feeling like you’re the only one who ever tackles the things that need doing and/or solves the world’s problems (*exaggeration I know but sometimes it feels like it!*)

The problem inherently lies in the fact that I can’t say ‘no‘. We all know the saying,
If you need something done, ask a busy person

Well, I’ve worked it out.
The reason they are busy is not because they are an
exceptionally organised, energetic, motivated, disciplined,
efficient super-breed of human

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….but, in fact it is because they are like me.

Simply put, saying no makes us feel bad. Even more than that, it instils a fear that we have let others down and they won’t like us. And so we continue to say yes, meekly taking it all on with a smile that is really a grimace, because inside we are screaming ‘ARRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!’

I am trying desperately to get another job. But I don’t even have the time or energy to put into any job applications because I have too much on my plate. Crazy! This is an absolute priority yet I can’t even make time for my own needs?! This girl needs a lesson in ‘Assertiveness 101‘. And pronto!

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But in the meantime, something’s gonna give. I’m like an elastic band wound tight and ready to snap.

You wanna piece of me? You got it!!!!


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Awoken

Awoken.
By a familiar feeling.
Pulse racing. Rat-a-tat-tatting in my skull.
My breath is shallow. Short.
Butterflies swirl up a frenzied storm in my stomach.
And a rising panic is sweeping up my throat.
But is caught. By my lips snapping shut
As I remember I have no real reason to feel this way.

Still, I’m not reassured.
My mind starts ticking over
All the fragilities of life.
The what if, what might and would should’ve been.
The what can, the what will happen, the most terrifying.
Paralysing me with fear.

I am crippled by a cycle of rumination
Focused on my own vulnerability.
Sapping my enjoyment of life.
Not living, just thinking and fearing
The uncertainty that each day brings
When I wake.

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The Nightmare, by Henry Fuseli (1781) is thought to be one of the classic depictions of paralysis perceived as a demonic visitation. My panic and anxiety is like an ugly old demon that holds me down, keeping me at its mercy