The universe has a bitchy sense of humour. She also has some pretty exceptional comic timing. This is a story of the universe’s nasty streak.

I love beauty. However, sometimes I fail in the beauty stakes. A couple of months ago, I was getting ready for a day at university, mindful of the fact that I had a little thing called Melbourne Writer’s Club on that evening which I always vamp myself up for nicely. So I got up early, chose a nice dress and rushed to my beauty cupboard.

I had acquired a hair curling product that required no blow drying or heat styling. This was very exciting because I’m lazy and blow drying makes my arms hurt. It instructed to scrunch the product though damp hair and let it dry naturally.  At first, I scrunched in a very reasonable amount. I noticed that my normally wavy hair was beginning to spring up as it dried, into gorgeous curls. They were PARFAIT! Advice nugget one: If it’s parfait, maybe leave it that way.

I began scrunching more and more and even more through it. My curls got springier and springier. I was basically having a curl party in my bathroom. The best kind of party. Or so I thought.

I felt fab. In my sister’s dress, my fave lipstick, my (fake) ray bans and most importantly my curls. I visited a friend and she commented on how good I looked. Externally, I flipped my hair and babbled along the lines of “oh tosh…just threw this together…insert attempt at an attractive giggle/chuckle combo” Advice nugget 2: attractive giggle/chuckle combo is notoriously hard to achieve. Avoid at all costs.

All the while, inside, I was reliving my curl party and thinking “preaching to the choir, girl!” Advice nugget 3: Never get cocky. Always be confident. But crossing this line seems to make the bitchy universe act like she’s on universe sized PMS.

Later on, something changed. No matter how I moved my head, my hair stayed still. And every now and then I heard an odd crunching noise.  I ignored it until I popped to the loo before heading to Melb Writer’s Club. The only words to describe my feeling were Holy. Merde.

A very dear friend of mine once said “I believe all hair product only ends up making your hair look worse.” Big call. And I have devoted my life to proving her wrong. But in this case she may have been right.

My hair was stiff. It was greasy. And, possibly worst of all, it crunched.  Actually, looking back, it’s hard to pick which was the worst part.

After hovering in front of the mirror for a few minutes in utter disbelief, I shoved my crunchy hair into a bun. Good God, it looked worse.I thought I had hit rock bottom. But the universe had an ace up her sleeve (when does she not?) Who would I meet that night at MWC? None other than Gaynor Alder. Also known as the most naturally glam lady to grace the world. I had not envisaged meeting her with greasy, crunchy hair. Touché, universe, touché.

But, darlings, this is where the REAL message comes in. I crunched my way through that night, yes I did. I was brave and I spoke to Gaynor, faked confidence until I gradually forgot about my hair. And somehow, I ended up with this internship. I think the universe figured she’d thrown enough merde my way.

So, in my first column to you, I say, no matter what merde the universe throws your way, think fabulous thoughts and you’ll get through it. And even if a hair product is really amazing, it pays to use it with restraint.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Despite her mammoth collection of beauty products, Amy is not particularly glamorous. However, she really, really wishes that she were. And it’s the thought that counts, isn’t it? She’s a communications student with an alarming curiosity for random anecdotes of strangers’ lives and an unusual passion for bridal shopping shows (where all the best anecdotes from strangers are revealed.) She’ll be putting this to use to source the best feature-worthy stories and pen a little about her own efforts at a sophisticated life. By the way, Amy is exceedingly chatty and would love to hear your random anecdotes. Should you feel like sharing, get in touch with her on Twitter @AmyLCassell

By Gaynor Alder – First posted on 9th December, 2011

We interrupt our holiday popular posts transmission to bring you this brand spanking new article. You didn’t think I’d really be able to restrain myself from the keyboard for a whole week now did you? Inspired by yesterday’s How to Overcome Power Trippers in the Workplace, I felt compelled to put down my margarita and fake tan to write this article.

Not all workplaces are created equal. Here are five reasons you should quit your job and hit Seek quicker than Kim Kardashian leaving a marriage.

Office Politics

There’s nothing more frustrating than trying to do your job and having to deal with other people’s bullshit. Some people simply have nothing better to do than to be difficult, gossip, meddle and create negativity. They thrive on it, gathering troops to make everyone’s life around them miserable, because deep down they are just plain nasty and insecure.

One of my personal favourites, are the ones who feel threatened because you can do what they can’t and it makes them feel inferior, thus they martyr themselves and constantly make niggling passive aggressive comments (because martyrs aren’t a fan of being honest and upfront you see).

Beware, these types of people are damaging, as they do all they can to make you feel bad about being good at your job (consciously or subconciously) and put a full stop on any kind of progress so that things can stay the same and they can stay in their comfort zone. Attempting to nurture their insecurity with kindness, empathy and understanding to make them feel valued for who they are, can often turn out to be an exhausting waste of time when they continue regardless.

The only way to stop office politics is to address it head on. Now this can go two ways depending on the strength of your management. Some will take it on board and get it immediately, because they respect your professionalism and understand your commitment to your work.

However, weak management will brush it under the carpet and often point the finger back at you because they don’t know how to deal with it or don’t want to deal with it, and somehow it becomes your fault. Thus the perpetrator of the politics becomes the victim and is empowered to continue. A complete head fuck and a grave miscarriage of justice.

Your Worth is Not Valued

I don’t need to be constantly reassured, nor do I expect a row of can can dancers in my office every time I do a good job, but sometimes all it takes is two simple words – thank you. And I do expect to be paid properly for what I contribute to a company. It’s not that fucking complicated.

However, at the end of the day, some managers just don’t get it. And it’s a mighty tough pill to swallow when they reward other people who sit around flat out doing fuck all.

The task before you here is to hold your head high, know in your heart who you are and what you have to offer and move on to somewhere that does get it, because banging your head against their office door until it bleeds trying to make them understand is futile.

Like the dodgy boyfriend who didn’t appreciate you, they all soon learn the hard way once you’ve left.

Your Boss is a Bully

Just because someone pays your wages at the end of the week, it does not give them the right to treat you badly. Nobody has the right to raise their voice at you, compromise you or intimidate you. The repercussions of staying in an abusive work relationship can be just as damaging to your self worth as a bad personal relationship.

Bullies come in all shapes or sizes. Some will directly verbally abuse you, some will undermine your confidence and some will make you tip toe on egg shells around them. Sure they are paying you to do a job, but that doesn’t mean you have to nurse their shortcomings. They have a responsibility to communicate effectively and treat you right in exchange for the services that you provide. This is a two way street.

You’re Doing the Work of 4 People

“Ummm, we’re going through some cost cuttings at the moment so we’ve retrenched some staff, and unfortunately we need to cut your hours too. But, oh, by the way, you’re now expected to do your job with less pay and less hours, and also pick up the slack from the other people we just sacked. And, oh, if things don’t get done like they used to, we’ll still point the finger at you.”

WTF?!? No, I don’t think so sunshine.

But I Wanted to be a Ballerina

So many of us unwittingly forge our careers out of what our parents and society expect of us only to sink into the quarter life crisis, trying to reconcile why when we have ticked all the boxes we are so miserably unhappy and spend most of our working days wanting to run screaming to board the next plane overseas.

When you’re bored beyond belief with your job, and the people around you make you want to call OOO to perform emergency CPR on your soul, then it’s time to get back in touch with what you really want to do, regardless of others expectations.

This is no easy feat. In fact, standing on your own ground and forging out a life that means something to you independent of what everyone else says is right, will prove to be your greatest challenge in your 20s.

Give yourself the freedom to to take risks and explore who you are. With that will come perceived failure, as you move from one venture to another. But I beg of you, please know this. It takes greater courage and strength to step outside the perceived linear expectation of “success”, than those around you robotically following the formula others have laid down for them.

Sometimes we can only know who we are, by who are not. “Failure” is just a stepping stone for us to build upon to reach our greatest heights. Without the courage of exploration in the face of societal judgment, we will never really find out who we really are and be able to live a truly fulfilling life.

Watch this space in January, when MWSG will guide you through the highs and lows of job hunting, including expert advice from the recruitment industry.

By Gaynor Alder / First Published on Feb 7, 2012

I’m desperately seeking serenity over thy inbox. It’s been strangling me with its incessant requests, and suffocating me with its relentless demands. I’m driven by a crazy compulsion to answer every single message as it constantly cries out for attention.

Na, na, na, na, na it taunts me, you’re never going to get to the end of all these messages. An empty inbox? Yeah, right. Good luck with that.

But, it’s time to make peace with the messages in my inbox, for they’ll always be there. It’s time to let go of the futile obsessive compulsive desire to continually have a clean inbox. And good heavens above, what does it really matter anyway? “Here lies Gaynor, her inbox was always empty.”

But, you can take control of it so that you can free up time to focus your attention on other things. Fun things. Productive things. Say, ahem, like finishing a book and sending it off to the publishers after agonising over its every sentence for eight years.

1. Unsubscribe from Crap

The first thing you want to do is reduce the number of unnceccessary emails flooding your inbox. Otherwise known as crap. Sure, we all want to know when Virgin is offering return trips to Paris for $100, but some of these subscriptions need to be banished like a Nigerian scammer asking for your bank details.

2. Delete each email after its been actioned. Like seriously.

Speaking of unnecesary emails in your inbox, what’s with all those emails you’ve read and actioned still hanging around taking up valuable closet space? You wouldn’t let last season’s frock that’s seriously seen better days clutter up your wardrobe, would you now?

3. Enough With the Thank You Already

For feck’s sake. One thank you and acknowledgement is suffice. No need to thank the thank you by starting a pointless email loop that lingers longer than Posh Spice in front of the paps.

From:  obsessivereplyer@yahoo.com.au
Sent: Tuesday, 7 February 2012 2:05 PM
To:  addictedtopointlessemailing@bigpond.com.au
Subject: Thank you

Thank you for writing that fabulous article for me.

From: addictedtopointlessemailing@bigpond.com.au
Sent: Tuesday, 7 February 2012 2:10 PM
To:  obsessivereplyer@yahoo.com.au
Subject: RE: Thank you

You’re welcome. Anytime darling.

From: addictedtopointlessemailing@bigpond.com.au
Sent: Tuesday, 7 February 2012 2:11 PM
To:  obsessivereplyer@yahoo.com.au
Subject: RE: RE: Thank you

Thank you again xxx

From:  obsessivereplyer@yahoo.com.au
Sent: Tuesday, 7 February 2012 2:12 PM
To:  addictedtopointlessemailing@bigpond.com.au
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Thank you

XX

From: addictedtopointlessemailing@bigpond.com.au
Sent: Tuesday, 7 February 2012 2:13 PM
To:  obsessivereplyer@yahoo.com.au
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: Thank you

Mwah xox

4. Dedicated Email Times

For the chronically obsessed, I can feel the sick rising in your throat as I suggest this, but set dedicated times each day to answer your emails, and then, yes, I’m deadly serious, switch it off whilst you work. And, please, for the love of God, turn of that pesky dinging thing that notifies you every time you get a new message. It can wait, really it can.

Obviously you’re going to need to map out an email management system that works for you and your job. What works for me is an hour when I start work, again at lunch and again at the end of the day.

5. Get Your Lara Croft On

Combat your inbox with an effective strategy.

• If it can be responded to immediately, then respond.
• Delegate it if it needs delegating (and please remember not to fall into the trap of the perilous and pointless thank you loop).
• If it requires more time to action, put it straight into your to do list and continue to take on the rest of your inbox.
• Set up some trusty email folders to save information you may need at a later date.

“Here lies Gaynor, she penned the novel of a century.”

Image Credits: 1, 2

One thing is for certain, being a woman comes with it’s challenges. One such challenge begins with H, and unbeknownst to us can, at times, wreak more havoc than we are aware of!

Yep! Those marvelous little things called hormones! They affect, influence and determine a whole range of things from our mood, to our appetite, to our confidence, our energy levels, our body composition, our motivation and our metabolism!

Once upon a time I was quite an androgynous female and had little to no female hormones circulating in my system. Thanks to being an addicted runner with an athletic body fat percentage of just 7%, I was more testosterone than oestrogen or progesterone. Although I did not realise it at the time, this was the primary reason my pain threshold was so high, my motivation and confidence over-brimming, my moods even and my energy enviable!

Fast forward a few years later, and a much healthier body fat percentage of around 20%, I have rather rudely been initiated into the world of raging hormones. In fact, to be more precise I have actually been diagnosed with a condition that officially means my hormones are MESSED UP!

For those who are familiar with it, my condition is called Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS). Increasingly common in today’s world it is an affliction that varies widely in it’s symptoms and effects for each individual, but over ridingly it will translate to an “insulin resistant” type physiology.

So to add to the usual challenges and swings of everyday women hormones, this diagnosis means that paying particular attention and diligence to diet, exercise and stress-management is especially important.

For this reason, I am acutely aware of how hormones can affect us women, and what is within our locus of control to encourage as much as possible, hormone harmony.

Here are my TOP 5 Tips for balancing your hormones through healthy lifestyle habits:

1)   Eat as though you have diabetes

This may sound like a strange recommendation, and perhaps it is, but truly 98% of our population would do very well to pretend they have this condition and eat accordingly! In a nutshell that means loads of fresh veggies and salad, lean proteins, good quality carbohydrates in controlled quantities, as well as moderate amounts of nuts, seeds, fruits and ‘whole food fats’ (ie avocado, coconut, olives, etc).

2)   Move your body everyday

Truly we were designed to move! Physiologically we are perfectly ‘styled’ to move, move, move! Getting your heart rate up each day will enable you to metabolise a million times better, improve your energy levels and balance out your sugar and insulin levels. The type of movement you choose to do is completely up to you! We are all different, and also go through different stages. Some people are more suited to “short and sharp” styles of training, others prefer “long and slow”. As Nike says JUST DO IT! Anyway you like! Dance, walk, run, ride, swim, lift weights, kyak, do yoga, jump on the tampoline! The options are only limited by your imagination.

3)   Meditate

This is the tip I most struggle to get clients to take on board, yet honestly, it is one of the most effective! Our stress levels today are at best high, more commonly insane, and it does absolutely nothing for harmonious hormones! The chemical changes that occur in our body whilst we meditate are beyond incredible and with regular practice will go a long way to encouraging balanced and blissful hormone management.

4)   Change how you think

Again this may sound like a strange recommendation but “what goes on between our ears” is without a doubt the most influential factor on our internal physiology and chemistry. If you are interested in knowing more about this I highly recommend reading ‘The Biology of Belief: Unleashing the Power of Consciousness, Matter, & Miracles’ by Dr Bruce Lipton, as well as Deepak Chopra’s ‘Ageless Body, Timeless Mind’. It is a lifetime work to become increasingly aware and conscious of how much choice we have over our thoughts, emotions, reactions and behaviours, and how much these indeed DO determine our experience and reality- and yes, our hormones!

5)   Give yourself a break!

One of the most important things you can do to help yourself achieve Hormone Harmony is to remember that they are a very real factor in how you feel, think and operate! Instead of endlessly criticising yourself for feeling moody, low, unmotivated, unenergised and self-conscious, consider that you may be in the 2^nd half of your cycle and waning testosterone and increasing oestrogen and progesterone could be at cause! Remember that you are not a man with predictable daily hormone shifts, and that you are instead a woman with fluctuating monthly cycles. You need nurturing, nourishing, supporting and flexibility. Be kind and implement the above tips to give yourself the very best chance of not being endlessly at effect of these powerful little chemicals!

Finally I will say…..every time you are “hormonal”, celebrate the fact that you are a woman! Having been “cycle free” for a solid two years I cannot tell you the joy I now experience when I get my “friend”, and how much more light-hearted and forgiving of myself I am when I have a hormonal moment

You are a delicious, feminine being and you are now supposed to be like your male counterparts: predictable, even, always strong, focused, regimented and structured! It is our role to be as Mother Nature demonstrates: wild, spontaneous, sometimes harsh, sometimes beautiful, dynamic and intuitively in flow…

I hope this helps you to LOVINGLY embrace your feminine, hormones and all!

Image Credits: 1

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Bridget Jane is a fully accredited and qualified Dietitian who undertook her 4 year Bachelor of Nutrition & Dietetics in Melbourne. Having once been overweight, bullied and incredibly uncomfortable in her own body, Bridget sought out at a young age to find a way to create the health and body she craved, yet in a way that was fun, easy and still allowed her to eat!

It has been almost a 19 year journey, and not a day has gone by in that time that Bridget has not studied some aspect of health, happiness and truly holistic wellbeing. Having evolved from purely a “physical/body” approach and focus, to intensely studying the mind and psychology of it all, to now a completely integrated holistic mind, body and soul approach, Bridget has truly left the title of “Dietitian” in the dust! Bridget does do it differently and to her clients that is an ever so welcome change!

www.newleafnutrition.com.au

With all those bags to push, why does this bitch look so happy?

Oh, why, yes of course, due to her devastatingly good looks, the concierge is about to rush over and alleviate her plight {sound familiar Samantha Brick?} and someone has stretched her legs to kingdom come in Photoshop.

Speaking of bags, I just spent the past two days moving house. Did I handle it with the same amount of style, panache and grace as the aforementioned?

Sheesh no.

Can the moving Gods please tell me …

Why do you always need more boxes than you think you do?

Why can you never find the end of the sticky tape?

Why can’t you find the allen key to undo your Ikea furniture?

And why do the five you actually have not fit, resulting in you having to lower your bed over the balcony {whilst praying to God it will land on the ground in one piece}?

Why are newspapers so slim nowadays?

Why do supermarkets no longer carry cardboard boxes?

Why do you have so much more shit than you realise?

Why are fridges so hard to get down stairs?

Why do we choose to live on second floor apartments, knowing fridges are so hard to get down stairs?

Why are the lifts at Fort Knox so freaking slow?

Why is moving so damn stressful, no matter how organised you are?

Now, where the feck is my hair brush? Anyone?

First Published in The Modern Woman’s Survival Guide on November 27, 2010.

By Gaynor Alder

Mothers everywhere, please let it be known – I’m in awe of you. Do tell me, how do you do it? I’ve been working full time this week and my niece is over from Perth with my parents – and I wonder to myself, how the feck does any woman do this motherhood malarkey with any amount of aplomb or grace?

I must confess. I used to judge those mothers at shopping centres, pushing their trolleys wearing tracksuit pants and sporting disheveled hair that looked like it was in good need of some frizz serum. Now I think they deserve a medal for just managing to have enough energy to be even pushing a trolley.

Like right now. I’m typing this with my niece wriggling around on my lap. We’ve spent the day shopping, and I’ve come to understand that shopping and children are mutually exclusive – to the point I abandoned a Country Road outlet with already discounted prices at 50% off.

I’m exhausted (hence why you’ve heard hide nor hair from me this week). Yet, when my seven year old niece turns to me and says, “aunty Gaynor, you’re the best aunty a kid could ever want, because you do art activities with me, buy me things and love me nice”, I get it. No matter how tired you are, this is the reason you do it all. Day after day. Week after week. Year after year.

You women who do this all the time, seriously, you deserve some kind of award. From what I can gather you seem to constantly run on empty, whilst working, running a home, spending quality time with your children and then trying to look after yourself. I get the tracksuit pants. I get the frizzy hair. I promise never to judge again.

As much as I love my niece (and let it be known she is the love of my live, my very reason for being) I don’t have the maternal urge. People constantly tell me that I’ll change my mind, because I’m so good with children and I’ll make a wonderful mother, but I just don’t feel it, nor do I think I’d be any chop at it.

I am at peace with that decision, even if my Dad isn’t, who I know desperately wants me to have children, and keeps telling me that I’ll end up lonely and regretful if I don’t. But I accept my limitations and I can’t live my life to make someone else happy.

Yes, I love being an aunty, but I just can’t see me being a full time mother, and that is okay. Actually it’s more than okay, because as Liz Gilbert writes in her second book Committed, being an aunty is a very special role, not only in a child’s life, but also for the mother when the aunty is able to step in and contribute something to a child’s life that a tired and exhausted mother may not always be able to.

Please don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to paint a picture of motherhood as one of complete sacrifice and recipe for fatigue, because I know some mothers who seem to take to it like ducks to water, and absolutely relish in it. But, I don’t believe I am that woman. Well, definitely not now, and at 34 years, I can’t see that changing in the foreseeable future. Then again, I could do a Nicole Kidman at 39 and change my mind, but a nanny and a cleaner sure wouldn’t go astray.

But, you mothers who are bringing up children, I think you need more praise. You need to be recognised more. Not just with breakfast in bed on Mother’s Day, but every day. Because you freaking amazing women day in and day out, who do what many may consider the normal every day acts of life, in my book are heroes. Let it be known, that I’m in awe of you.

First Published on The Modern Woman’s Survival Guide on 2nd June 2011

We’ve all worked with people who get an erection whilst wielding their over inflated sense of self importance over others, just because they have a title. Otherwise referred to as a wanker.

They regularly like to let you know that you are their subordinate (directly or indirectly), just in case you forget that you are beneath them in the corporate food chain. Even if your job title doesn’t happen to fall below them in the organisational chart, they manipulate others in higher positions (otherwise known as wrapping equally retarded senior management around their little fingers) so that they can make other people’s lives a misery.

Me? I’ve experienced my fair share. Retail in particular seemed to be a breeding ground for mediocre women lacking in substance, carrying around their clip boards and reprimanding their employees for coming back five minutes late from their break or enforcing complete silence during a stock take. The glint in their eye that they were enjoying exercising their power over you did not go undetected.

When the General Manager for the state cut me off in a conversation to speak to someone else “more important” I quickly handed in my resignation. General manager or no general manager, she wasn’t going to treat me like I was nobody. I later heard through the ex employee grapevine that she was sacked by the company after numerous complaints for how she treated her staff.

My “small penis of the year award” for 2009 went to the guy in charge of the stationery cupboard at David Jones, who despite having the key in his pocket and standing in front of said cupboard, refused to give me a pen because he only opened the cupboard between 9 and 11 am. What one was meant to do when their shift started at 12pm was beyond me, but pushing the issue only served to heighten his satisfaction over being able to hinder my ability to get what I needed. Little, little man.

Although “Fabio” did have very curly long hair and I think he fancied himself as a bit of a ladies’ man. It may have worked for him in the 80s (coupled with a double denim stonewash ensemble, or so I am imagining … actually, eeek, I think I’d rather not), but his locks only made him even more tragic in my eyes.

Another manager enjoyed asking me for files and snapping her fingers to ask where they were not a minute later. I can still hear her ugly shrill descending down the office corridor as she demanded, “GayyyyNNNOR, where is that file?” Listen lady, you may think you’re the Queen of Sheba sitting there in your big chair and fancy office (which quite frankly I find hideous in the extreme with its gaudy decor and framed glamour shot of yourself, but hey whatever works for you), but I’ve only been here a day, so how about pointing me in the direction of your filing cabinet?

The thing is this. You’re never going to make me feel small by withholding a pen from me. You’re not going to affect my confidence in my abilities by placing unrealistic demands on me. You’re not going to belittle me by sending me bullshit emails, and you’re sure as hell not going to impress me just because you’re carrying a clipboard. In fact, your hideous displays are a source of entertainment that make me laugh at you on the inside.

Do not continue to work for people who do not respect you and get their self worth by stealing yours. Kick these kinds of people to the kerb, and step over them in your Christian Louboutins with complete disregard and disgust as you would a drunken bogan spewing up in the middle of the footpath. Protect yourself from these vampires, just as you would your new designer shoes whilst stepping over said bogan.

Arm yourself with the knowledge that what you’re dealing with are very weak, small, tiny, sad, little specimens. For empowered people with style, substance and self belief, have no need to power trip over others to make themselves feel important. Do not let them steal your confidence, self worth or time and energy. Rise high above them, for you my friend are the stronger, more fabulous, better, much much better person.

In our minds we tell ourselves that can apply for that new job, open our hearts to a new relationship or take off for overseas shores  … but deep down, fear is in the driver’s seat, and in reality it’s driving us around in an orange Datsun 120Y (definitely not draped in a scarf, Grace Kelly-esque in a Mercedes Benz).

So, how do we break free of the deep rooted fears holding us back? How do we stop fear running our lives? How do we let fear know that we’re in charge and that it can plain bugger off?

First of all we need to identify exactly what the fear is. Nine times out of ten, it’s some crappy low life from our past, holding us hostage in the present. But then there are the other fears – born of the what ifs and the potential for things to go wrong in the future.

What we need to understand is that fear, no matter how old, needs to firstly be honoured and respected. Like a plane crash victim who attempts to board a plane five years later. Because you can bet your bottom dollar that they are going to be reaching for the valium once the plane starts to leave the tarmac.

But then, as the plane starts to ascend into the clouds, and we move through things that were previously tarnished with bad memories, we realise that we are safe. For each time we do the thing we thought we could not, we are one step closer to being free.

Of course, it’s not always as easy as that, because we can’t always board a plane and have a hostess dispense us hot towels and serenity.We have to work through it step by step sans frequent flyer miles – we have to feel every inch of the fear as it holds our psyches hostage and has us breathe into brown paper sick bags.

This is your captain speaking. Please listen carefully to the following safety demonstration:

1. In case of emergency hyperventilation, please count slowly backwards from ten.

Yeah right, as if counting back from ten is going to calm the mounting hysteria this is escalating by the second in my mind? But, seriously, honest and for true, sometimes all it takes is a few moments to breathe and relax to realise that everything is okay, and all is going to be well.

2. Please note your emergency evacuation exits, here, here and here. If you can’t find them, then do please call a friend.

So often we bottle up our problems, when calling a friend could easily release them and have us realise how silly they were in the first place. Our friends help us to put things in perspective and alleviate the merry go round of thoughts needlessly terrorising our psyches.

3. Remember to fit your oxygen masks before tending to your fellow passenger.

Yes, sometimes you really do need to put yourself first. Like seriously. Shutting yourself off from the world (i.e. turning off your phone, and not logging into your Facebook) can be just what you need to get back in touch with yourself and process what you need to.

4. If you need further assistance, then please call one of the air stewards.

There is never any shame in admitting you need help. And help out there, there is. There are many counsellors and professionals that can guide you through what you are going through, to help you permanently alleviate the fears that are holding you back from living the life you really want to live.

How do you alleviate fear in your life?

Why? Because I’m used to managing things on my own. Translation – clamming up until I reach breaking point before I ask for help. Hardly a healthy pattern is it? Certainly not smart.

As modern women, magazines have cut through the superwoman myth, telling us that it’s okay if we can’t hold down the career, motherhood and a social life – and god forbid, time for ourselves. But has this really infiltrated our psyche, and allowed the peace of not having to do it all on our own free us? Do we deep down still expect more from ourselves than is humanly possible?

For me, as someone who works a day job, whilst working towards a dream of becoming a financially self sustained writer on the back end of chronic fatigue syndrome for a decade (which I have thankfully recovered from), things sometimes fall through the cracks.  And, holy hell, on top of that I beat myself up for not having frizz free hair seven days of the week, perfectly manicured nails or tending to my laundry basket as much as it demands.

As much as I know many of these things don’t really matter, they still quietly wreak havoc on my psyche and have a picnic terrorising my thoughts:

Psyche:  “Seriously, are you really going to leave the house with hair looking like that?”

Gaynor: “Oh, but please just let me hit snooze on my alarm a little longer. Pretty please. I’ve been working hard all week long.”

Psyche: “And tell me, what are you going to do about that bag of dry cleaning that has been sitting in the corner for weeks?”

Gaynor: “I promise I will get to it soon. How does tomorrow sound?

Psyche: “When was the last time you called your friends? They’ll disown you soon.”

Gaynor: “I know, yes, I’m such a bad friend.”

Instead of calling a friend when life gets on top of me, I bottle it up and try to manage it all on my own. This is especially crazy when I’m surrounded by beautiful friends who would give their right arm to listen to and support me, as I do them. So why don’t I lavish the same love on myself, as I do them?

Perhaps it’s just my DNA. The way that I am. But, there’s also my inherent fear of burdening people after being burnt by some shabby friends in the past, and not wanting to be judged when I lay things out exactly as they are, no holds barred.

However, those friends who weren’t there for me and showed me their true colours are no longer part of my present. The friends who are in my life now, all offer something different, but one thing is consistent – they love and respect me and want what is best for me – and they will never judge.

This is the beauty of friendship – we have different friends we can turn to for different things. One will comfort you and make you feel safe as you let down your guard and cry into a box of tissues. Another will shake their pom poms for you and give you advice to help you get back up and reach for all that you deserve. Another may dish out some tough love when you need it most (but in just the right way for you). Another will crack a bottle of vino and light your cigarette as you grapple with a crisis. And another will spend hours on the phone with you, just listening and letting you pour your heart out to them so that you can find the strength to dust yourself off and keep on going.

No matter what type of friend they are, one thing is for sure – we can’t do this thing called life without them. We are not superwomen and we can’t do it all on our own. So stop beating yourself up, yes, right this very instant, because no matter how together everyone around us may look, we all fall down. We all struggle from time to time. We all have moments when we think we can’t cope. However, one thing is for sure, it’s our friends who keep us going.

But don’t forget, the very best friend you can have in this world is yourself. So when that little voice in your head starts giving you a hard time, give it its marching orders, because, hell, we can’t always be frizz free god damn it.

Image Credits: 1

Having just returned from a beach side holiday alongside the pristine waters of Boracay in the Philippines, I was in awe of their photos and tales of their time in this beautiful paradise. Their top stress of the day was whether they swam in the beach before or after breakfast – a breakfast that consisted of mangoes and other exquisite local food delivered each morning to their 5 star resort.

After my friend told me how much I would love it, I began lamenting on how many people would find it difficult to just be in such a beautiful place. This is not the kind of holiday filled with things to do and sights to see, rather the kind where you fully surrender yourself to the moment and the beauty of your surroundings. No laptops. No iPads. And certainly no mobile phones.

The reason I love these friends and their family so much, is that they have the most beautiful outlook on life. They know what’s important and what is not, and just being around them, makes you want what they have. They are truly inspiring people who show others how to live a rich and fulfilling life.

This presence is certainly part of my DNA and something that I resonate with. However my relationship with time can sometimes be shaky. I work a high pressure day job with never ending deadlines and an unrelenting schedule, whilst working towards my dream of becoming a financially self sustained writer. And these dreams are not only something I strive for because I want to do what I love, but because I also want to live a life where I am more present and have time for what’s important. Every single day.

For, isn’t the present moment what it’s all really about? Isn’t that where true peace and happiness really lies? But for so many of us, we are constantly striving towards the next goal, the next deadline, the next achievement and discarding the present like a dirty rag.

These friends of mine inspire me to be more present. Enjoy the journey and not the destination (yes that old nutshell). However, I am sure I am not alone, when I say, for me, being present requires work. Mediation. A bit of yoga. Chamomile tea if you wish. And when I lose my footing with the present moment, I sometimes reach for a bottle of wine more than is good for me.

For us who can’t always be present, meditation is they key. But, meditation has always raised an equal fear of anxiety – thus canceling out its benefits. The mere thought of sitting quietly with myself for five minutes, can raise more anxiety than I had before I sat down and starting saying omm. However, I am learning that I am the master of these thoughts, and rather than attaching anxiety to them, I can in fact let them float through my mind, rather that resist them.

For meditation isn’t about being perfect. Yes, thoughts will come and thoughts will go (oh my gosh, did I pay that bill, have I replied to that email yet, and oh shit, did I forget someone’s birthday last week?) . But within this space, there will be moments where your mind will let go, even for a few seconds. A few seconds that will mean that when you walk back out into the world you will notice the beauty of simple things more. The sound of a bird chirping. The pretty colours of a flower. The smell of jasmine wafting through the air. Being more present to a conversation with a friend.

And this is something worth working on.

By Gaynor Alder

After a number of stressful weeks at work, I found myself reaching for the bottle more than I wanted to, resulting in a blow out on the scales. After beating myself up with the proverbial stick of guilt and jumping on the merry-go-round of incessant self loathing, my mind was inevitably latching onto drastic action. However, these drastic actions are never the way forward, because as we know the process towards change is never linear – yes that old dieter’s demon of two steps forward, one step back.

What we can do is use these moments to learn, reflect and find our centre again, so that we may continue to move forward in a peaceful and sustainable way that will help us successfully reach our goals. Otherwise we are neurotically hatching plans out of fear (to ease the discomfort of our bender), that will only have us crazily spiral further down the ladder of despair. We need to be gentle, oh so gentle, and get back in touch with what is right for us, regardless of our recent bender. Jo Bassett from Living Savvy would be ever so proud.

Whilst reflecting on my recent fall from grace, I came across a book by Marianne Williamson,  “A Course in Weight Loss”, containing spiritual lessons to uncover the emotional reasons for being overweight. Whilst part of me resisted the book (the part that doesn’t want to put on a wet suit and dive deep back into the emotional wounds of my past – feck haven’t I had enough therapy over the years?!) there was another part of me that resonated with its underlying message. (I didn’t buy the book, but if you have let us know what you thought of it.)

Unless we uncover why we are holding onto the weight, dieting and exercise is futile. Because our sub conscious will always be in control, steering us towards the bottle or binging on food. I started to reflect on why I may be holding onto the weight and thoughts of protection rose to the surface. Hell, I’m walking around with a safety blanket of fat!

The fears are all yesterdays news – way past their use by date. People I had already forgiven and wounds I’ve already workshopped. However, that doesn’t seem to be stopping my sub conscious from cracking a bottle of vino and having a party with them on a regular basis. Yikes, every time I down a bottle of emotionally charged vino, I may as well be clinking glasses with these people and sharing a room with them. No thanks – there’s a reason they’re no longer in my life.

Clarity is the first step in giving these fears their marching orders and having them relinquish their power over the waistband on your jeans …. hey, hang on a minute, I’m in charge here, now go bugger off. Once you know what’s hiding and lurking around in your sub conscious, you can have a little talk with yourself (promise I won’t go calling the men with the white straight jackets just yet).

Will I ever enter a damaging relationship and allow an unworthy man to destroy me again?

No sirree. Au contraire, the man I have in my life now is the most beautiful, kind, gentle and honest person, and our relationship is full of love and happiness.

Will I ever allow someone to enter my friendship circle who isn’t worthy of my friendship and hurt me?

Not on your nelly. I kicked good time friends to the kerb a long time ago. The only friends I have in my life now are top shelf.

Will I ever place myself in potentially abusive situations again?

You’ve got to be kidding. If you don’t whole heartedly respect me for who I am, then you can get off the train thanks very much. There’s plenty of people lining up who do.

So, this safety of blanket of fat is just a lingering hangover from years gone by – years I have since recovered from, moved on from and triumphed over. I’m like a 4 year old with a dummy – even though I know I don’t need it any more, it may take a little while for it be to cajoled away from me. But once I realise, really realise that I am free of these fears, I’ll be able to spit it out in disgust, because I’m all grown up now.

Question time: What underlying fears or emotions could potentially holding you back from reaching your weight loss goals?

Gaynor Alder is a Melbourne based writer with a penchant for vintage glamour and all things Parisian. Constantly living outside of her means, she brings new meaning to living the champagne lifestyle. She believes that one should never leave home without gloss (universal law 1.1), wouldn’t dare attend a red carpet worthy occasion without false eyelashes, and isn’t interested in doing anything where she can’t wear her heels – although she can be tempted by a lovely pair of Audrey Hepburn ballet flats, should the occasion call for them.

But, fatigue has made another unwelcome guest appearance, barging in like a obnoxious teenager gate crashing a party with a six pack of Bicardi Breezers, and it’s left me running on empty. Constantly. It’s one of those rather pesky spells of fatigue whereby not even sleeping for twelve hours seems to take the edge off it.

I wake each morning without the energy to face the day, but go on I must, and so I drag myself to the shower and board the morning train still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Rest, rest, rest my body urges. Craves for. Yearns for. But commitments I must keep and pay the bills I must.

Push on an on I go, attending each social engagement and meeting work commitments of my day job, hoping my little legs will hold me up and my body will hang in there (pretty please). Push on and on I go, whilst hoping that the next day I will wake up and fatigue will have packed up its things and decided to shove off. But like any bad guest at  a party, fatigue leaves a trail of debris in its wake and the effects linger on for days, and sometimes weeks.

Sleep has become my number one fantasy and I lust for it like a porn addict does double d cleavage. I snatch sleep in my relentless schedule whenever I can, collapsing into bed, and caressing my sheets and pillow like I’m being reunited with a long lost lover. Oh Tontine, I do love thee so. Please let me stay here in your arms a little longer.

It’s hard not to get frightened that fatigue is coming back for good, like it did plaguing me for all those years – and it’s equally hard not to get frustrated and overwhelmed. Frustrated that I thought I’d given it its marching orders long ago and now it’s back at a time when so many good things are happening in my life, and overwhelmed with how to hold down my life whilst battling through the exhaustion.

I’ve been popping vitamins like Lindsay Lohan on a bender, but they’re not really helping. Because what I really need is time. Time to push pause and let my body recuperate. Time free of pressures and deadlines. Time just for me.

I have another week until a major work deadline is met, and then I can start to unwind and relax. Take some annual leave. Sleep in every morning. Get a massage. Rest as long as my body god damn wants to. Because my body has had a gutful of meeting everyone’s demands and not its own, and my life has too many fabulous and exciting things happening it for me not to be match fit.

I am starting my new 3 day work week in my day job so that I have more time for my writing, but also for me. So, as I take this time to honour my bodys natural rhythms and its pleas for rest, I will vow to keep living a life that is conducive to my well being regardless of what society demands of me.

Image Credit: 1

By Gaynor Alder

I’ve been working with the divine and ever so fabulous Jo Bassett from Living Savvy to create changes in my life. Changes that are moving me towards a more authentic life. Changes that bring me closer to long held desires for how I want to live my life. Really live my life.

Jo’s mantra is all about fine tuning and taking small steps that combine to make lasting and sustainable change. Because, haven’t we all tried a crash diet to only end up piling it all back on as soon as we can no longer resist a bowl of fettucini carbonara. No, deprivation and unrealistic goals are not part of Jo’s ethos.

Since Jo has been shaking her pom poms for me, I’ve set myself 3 weekly goals as part of her “Monday Bites” posts on her website. These three goals are things that will make your life sparkle. Since doing this, I have successfully implemented many lasting changes in my life that have made a real difference. The other important aspect of her coaching is to celebrate your successes on ‘Champagne Friday”, where you review the week that was and also look at what was missing, so that you can implement something new and sparkly for the following week.

To date:

- I have reduced my alcohol consumption by gradually increasing the number of AFD’s (alcohol free days) per week: check

- I’m drinking water everyday like a supermodel: check

- I’m taking vitamins every day (my hair and skin doth thank me so): check

- I have implemented “All About Me” Wednesdays when I get manicured and pedicured, and the hairdresser tames my tresses, wielding her prowess with a hairdryer: check

- I found the courage to cut down one day a week from my day job to focus on my writing : check

- I secured a fabulous new writing opportunity : check

So, yes, I think we call that progress. However, my jeans still feel tight. I still don’t have my own apartment. I’m still not a full time writer. So, you can guess what’s coming next can’t you? I’ve started living in the future. Focusing on the steps I’ll be taking in months to come to get me where I want to be – pivot tables, pie charts and plans for each week of the year mapped out. Oh, god forbid my complex mind and the anxious riddles it weaves that tie me up in knots.

But, warning, danger Will Robinson, when we forget the present and focus too much on the future, we leave a trail of anxiety in our wake that will catch us when we’re sleeping and tie a noose around our necks during the day. Panic attacks anyone?

The question here is, why after going so well have I fallen into this trap? The answer is perceived dissatisfaction with the present, fear and being at the pointy end of the sword when staring down the barrel of the crossroads of change. In essence, it’s got hard. Sure, it’s easy to prance off to the hairdresser each week, but face up to why I drink more than I should? No thanks. I think I’d rather manically try concoct plans for the future. Obsessive compulsiveness at its best.

Ever so insightful, Jo shone her spotlight on a comment I made in our one on one coaching emails. A comment that made me realise that I’m focusing on the destination and not the journey (yes, that old nutshell). Because as soon as I reach these set of goals, I’m sure I’ll have other things I’ll want in my life, and the whole crazy progress will begin again. 10 kilos lighter or no 10 kilos lighter.

So, I’m jumping off this crazy bandwagon called results, and focusing on how I can enjoy the present whilst working towards change. Because, unless I focus on what I’m doing now, I’m NOT going to get to what I want from the future anyway. Oh, serenity, my long lost friend, you’ve turned up at last. Not only have you knocked on my door, begging to come in from the rain, take your coat off and put your feet up on the couch with a cup of tea and a nice warm jumper, you’ve come with wisdom and insights. Well, yes, do come right in. I’ll even get you a pair of nice warm socks, and, oh, how do you take your tea? White with one?

I realise that my personal journey requires patience and acceptance. For, as a former chronic fatigue patient, setting myself too high a benchmark is as futile as attempting the high jump at faction sports day in school. Tunnel ball I could manage, but I’ll leave the high jump to the Olympians. But this acceptance doesn’t equate to defeat. For the strength I gained on my CFS journey, was all about learning how to take small steps and celebrating each small milestone, no matter how teeny tiny – even if all I achieved all day was washing the dishes. But, oh how quickly we can sometimes lose the lesson and demand too much from ourselves.

Of course, now I only touch dishes if I’m eating from them in a restaurant or placing them in a dishwasher after someone else has cooked for me (the kitchen is not my domain – I have a cut on my finger to prove it, after being left to fend for my self last night and having to open a can of tomatoes to dress a frozen packet of tortellini …”hello, can I order number 32, pad thai with noodles thanks?”). I’ve recovered from CFS, but it still sniffs around, casing the joint occasionally, hoping to barge its way back into my life. So, yes, patience is key. I may not be able to sweat it out at the gym every night, but I can do other things that resonate with what my body tells me is right for me for right now.

The other question that has been tapping itself on my shoulder this week (“ring, ring, hello, Gaynor are you there? Please pick up …. oh, it seems, you’re not home, but I know you’re there and screening my call. Can you please call me back when you have a moment? … beeep, beep beep.”) is how can I enjoy the journey more? How can I make things more pleasant when I am up against things that challenge me? How can I support myself more whilst I am going through this process?

If that’s not enough to ward off anxiety and kick it to the kerb (in a pair of Pradas no doubt) it is this. I need to start looking at how rich my life already is (glass half full or half empty and all that). Not in one of those unrealistic, I’m going to be positive about everything even when it’s shit, denial type of states, but because I genuinely have so many fabulous things in my life. Like a BF who worships the ground I walk upon and bows before me before I enter a room and continually encourages me (” I’m not interested in you ironing my pants or cooking me dinner, you just be you, and by the way, I think you’re gorgeous”), fabulous friends, a family who loves me, a well paid day job working with great people and writing opportunities dropping in my lap, left, right and centre.

I’m now learning to balance the present with change – a classic juxtaposition. Wish me luck.

The most beautiful thing about Jo’s coaching is that she intrinsically relates to the individual to deliver advice, insights and tips to help you move forward towards your goals and create lasting change, in a way that is right for you. Click here to find out more.

When I hear the word “simplicity”, it immediately conjures up emotions of lack, frugalness and going without. Shudder. However, simplifying our lives, whether it be physical, mental or emotional, not only creates space for the new and fabulous to enter, but also provides us with more peace. More time for the things that really matter. More time for friends and loved ones. More time for ourselves. More time to just be god damn it.

Despite my disdain for the drudgery of domesticity, I have rather a penchant for spring cleaning. I’m not a believer in Feng Shui per se (you certainly won’t find any flutes hanging in my romance corner), but I swear I can feel the energy shift as I throw out old things. I’m told that this also makes way for new things to enter my life, and as such, I sort through papers, letters from ex-lovers and old bills, as though the more I throw out, the bigger the chance a Chanel handbag will miraculously enter my life.

Following a spring clean is always a mental spring clean of sorts, leading me to review my life – what has been working and what hasn’t been working. I like to make a list of all the things that drain my energy, and once I let go of them, I always feel a sense of renewed energy and motivation.

1 – Draining Friendships

It’s important to ensure that the friends in your life are people who nourish, support and respect you, and that there is an equal exchange of energy between the both of you. I’m sure we’ve all been on the other end of the phone to a friend who constantly seeks your advice but never takes any of it on board, never asks how you are, are constantly needy, or who have a dummy spit when you say no. In short, these types of people are like big black holes that drain you of your energy and give you nothing in return. Make a commitment to yourself to only let people who are worthy of walking your red carpet into your life. For everyone else, make sure there’s a bouncer to let them know that they’re not on your guest list.

2 – Excessive Commitments

There’s only so much we can do before we burn out and wind up in an exhausted heap. As heart wrenching and guilt provoking as it can be, sometimes you need to let go and say no. At the end of the day, the people who love you, really love you, will understand when you say no, and those who don’t can get back on the horse they rode in on. Giddyup.

3 – Being a Corporate Whore

For the creative amongst us, working the 9 to 5 grind can deplete not only our energy, but also wear away our souls. Even if you’re not creative, working in a job that doesn’t fulfil you will lead to the same state of unrest, unhappiness, dissatisfaction and ultimately have you veering head onto a mid life crisis. There is no doubt that living in this modern world can be expensive, but are there things you can cut out of your life, so you can have more balance and less stress, or work towards the career that you really want?

I’m not talking about giving up all the luxuries that make you happy, because after all I’m a big fan of my weekly mani and pedi, and blow dry at the hair dresser, but all this I do working 4 days a week instead of 5, whilst I work towards being a full time writer. Sure, I could earn a lot more working 5 days a week, but working towards what’s important to me is worth more than the extra money each week.

What 3 things could you do to simplify your life?

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As you may know, I am what you call an all or nothing person, and as such I don’t naturally gravitate towards the middle ground. This means May could well throw a few challenges my way. However, with help from Jo Bassett from Living Savvy, I am continuing to make small sustainable changes until they becoming lasting lifestyle habits.

After cementing habits in April for self nurturing, Wednesdays will continue to be wholly and solely “all about me” with a weekly blow dry, manicure, pedicure and doing whatever I god damn well please without worrying about anybody else. In May, I am committing to my weekly “AFD” (alcohol free day) and pledging to take up yoga, drink water on a daily basis and take my vitamins. I will continue to do these until they become part of my lifestyle, and Jo will be on hand to help guide me through any precarious moments that have me reach for the bottle. Downward dog anyone?

As I start to clean up my act on the health front, other parts of my life are putting up their hand to have their draws cleaned out too. Combine this with hormones that often seek refuge in going on a cleaning rampage, I find myself decluttering my life of all the things that are, how shall we say, okay, let me just be frank – giving me the shits.

From shoes with broken heels that have been sitting in my wardrobe for months, to things on my to do list that have been taunting me with their tardiness, and ill fitting clothes that leave me uncomfortable (ahem, they must have shrunk in the wash) nothing is safe. If it’s annoying me or preventing me from approaching my days with ease, then it’s being scrutinised like a princess about to walk down the aisle and thrown out like a guest wearing white at a royal wedding.

The more I repair, throw out and complete, the more I feel the energy around me shift, thus creating harmony and space for new things to enter my life (hello Penguin Publishers, my people will talk with your people).

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Chronic Fatigue Syndrome is an illness of our modern times, but one that is often met with disbelief, persecution and a complete lack of support. After suffering with an illness that has completely debilitated her for over a decade, it’s no surprise to hear that she has resorted to attempts to take her life. What makes me so angry, is that it shouldn’t have to be like this.

Why isn’t the Australian government injecting money into research about this modern illness? Why are so many people silently suffering and needlessly losing so many years of their lives? Why are people like Theda having to resort to taking their own lives because they simply can’t endure the pain of their existence anymore?

I’ll tell you why. Because people still don’t believe this is a legitimate illness. Just for a moment, even for a second, think about how it would feel if you had cancer and the hospital and doctors turned you away because they didn’t believe you, and left you to suffer on your own. This is how a CFS patient feels every day. Some might argue CFS isn’t life threatening, but I beg to differ. Not only because of Theda’s recent attempts to take her life, but also because CFS robs people of their life, day in and day out. Day after day. Week after week. Year after year.

You can read the article that I wrote in Onya Magazine last year about Theda Myint and her mother Carol’s quest for support by clicking here. I highly recommend that you do, before reading the below excerpt from WA Today.

A Perth woman battling chronic fatigue syndrome was committed to the locked ward of Fremantle Hospital after an attempt to euthanise herself in a desperate bid to address her crippling condition.

Theda Myint, 34, has grappled with myalgic encephalomyelitis (ME) – better known as chronic fatigue syndrome – for 11 years. The condition has left her bedridden with crippling migraines, severe body pain and an extremely low tolerance to light and noise.

She and her mother, Carol Adams, have campaigned to raise awareness of the condition, which they say is commonly misunderstood in the medical world.

The pair have also lobbied the state government to subsidise her medical treatments, which they say must be administered in the home due to the debilitating nature of her condition, but their requests have so far been rebuffed.

Ms Myint was rushed to hospital by ambulance last Wednesday after attempting to end her life for the third time in five weeks.

Her mother Carol Adams said ambulance, emergency and intensive care staff were “fantastic” in treating her debilitating ME pain, and it wasn’t until she was transferred to one of the hospital’s medical wards that things took a turn for the worst.

Ward staff informed Ms Adams that they would not be able to provide food for her daughter due to her intolerances to potatoes, gluten, eggs, lactose and legumes brought on by her condition. In desperation, the family was forced to turn to highly processed food from a vending machine after Ms Myint went without food for two days.

While on the medical ward, a psychiatrist reviewed her case in light of her suicide attempt and made the decision to move her onto a locked ward, rescinding her rights and placing doctors in full control of her wellbeing.

“She was in so much pain. As soon as she was put in the locked ward, her ME needs were not being met,” Ms Adams said. “She was in a nine out of 10 for pain, and she was being refused treatment for that.

“She asked to have a hot bath or shower to ease her pain, and she was told she couldn’t because it would disturb the other patients.

“She asked to see another doctor, and she was refused. She then asked to be taken back to emergency, and that was also refused because she was in the psychiatric ward.”

It was then that Ms Adams appealed to WAtoday.com.au for help. After a call was placed by this website to the hospital on Saturday morning, Ms Myint began getting the treatment she required and that afternoon she was released from hospital.

“It was only in desperation that we contacted the media, as our requests to the hospital had been refused,” Ms Adams said.

A Fremantle Hospital spokeswoman refused to directly address Ms Adams’ accusations about her daughter’s treatment.

“We have every confidence in the care provided to Theda during her recent admission to Fremantle Hospital,” she said. “We are unable to comment any further due to patient confidentiality.”

Health Minster Kim Hames also declined to comment on Ms Myint’s treatment at Fremantle Hospital last week, citing issues of patient confidentiality.

Now back home, Ms Myint is under 24-hour watch by her mother, who said she was deeply concerned that she may try to harm herself again.

“She is extremely distressed and she just wants to die,” she said.

“She has just lost all hope. She doesn’t believe anyone can help her anymore. She’s had so many knockbacks and has been let down so many times, she’s just frightened to have hope.”

Ms Adams’ previous appeals to the state government to subsidise in-home treatments have been ignored, with Dr Hames previously telling the family that he was “unable to direct any doctor to provide care outside what they consider to be standard medical practice”.

Why was Theda denied food she could eat? Why was she submitted to the psychiatric ward when her illness isn’t psychiatric? Why on earth are people with CFS treated in this way? Why should it take another decade or god forbid, even more before modern medicine catches up and recognises this illness, and worse still, why should Theda have to be cruelly subjected to this in the interim and potentially lose her life?

My post work drink (well, haven’t I been a good girl, I think I’ll pour myself a glass of vino) has slowly yet surely become a bottle a night, and on the weekends, I can drink 2 bottles and remain coherent and even leave my shoes on in public. Yes, I am referred to by some as one who can “put it away”. Oh dear.

The thing is this. I don’t consider myself an alcoholic by any stretch of the imagination, but I will admit my consumption is excessive and is something I want to change. The other thing I know is that there are many other modern woman out there in the same boat.

Drinking has become integrated into our daily lives, something we do with friends, to reward ourselves or simply unwind. We can drink a bottle a night, yet still function perfectly at work the next day sans a hangover. The fabulous Jo Bassett, Life Coach from Living Savvy, said her moment of clarity came when she when to crack open her second bottle of vino for the night and realised she was stone cold sober. She also posted this link of a radio discussion on ABC’s Life Matters about this very topic:

http://www.abc.net.au/rn/lifematters/stories/2009/2688627.htm

Being the fabulous and savvy woman that Jo is, she gave me some brilliant advice for moderating my vino consumption, as it is something I am currently shining the spotlight on with my coaching with Jo – she suggests drinking red cordial or lemonade out of a wine glass. As Jo is all about making small sustainable shifts in your life to create the extraordinary, I am committing to an ‘AFD’ – an alcohol free day a week. I will gradually increase this until I am drinking in a more balanced way.

I am also setting foundations for new healthy habits in my life. Every Wednesday (my day off from work) is now “All About Me” and entails visits to the hairdressers for weekly blow dries and the likes. I am also currently investigating a yoga/pilates class and will soon be walking around the botannical gardens once a week (‘doing the tan’ as we Melbournians affectionately like to call it). Not only will my waist line benefit from the reduction in vino consumption, but so will my well being with the healthy habits I am implementing into my life.

Confession time: how much wine or alcohol do you drink during the week?

Image credit: 1

But finding a flat mate is even harder. You have a very short time to decide who you’ll be sharing your living space with, who’ll inevitably see you coming out of the shower with nothing on but a towel. So, just how do you choose the right person to live with?  Like any relationship there are no guarantees, but you can ensure the best possible chances of success by asking the right questions.

Q: Are they shaggable?

If the answer to this question is yes, finish the interview immediately. “We are speaking with another 5 people today and will be making our decision in the next couple of days. You unfortunately won’t be on the shortlist, as right now I want to rip your shirt off and take you on a tour of my bedroom – the bed mainly.  If we live together, shagging each other within the month is inevitable.  As much as this prospects excites me (in places I can’t speak of to someone I’ve just met), it will only end in tears. We’ll then start staying out late to avoid the awkward exchanges in the evenings and when you bring home a girlfriend, jealousy will consume me and I will become someone I won’t like very much.  I’ll eventually have to move out and then you’ll move move her in. It was very nice to meet you though. Good luck with your house hunting”.

Q: Are you a smoker or non smoker?

Never the twain shall meet.

Q: How clean are you?

Failure to clean a stray hair from the bathroom sink has the power to utterly destroy someone’s life, but most arguments will start with the dishes.  Dish crimes include leaving dishes festering in the lounge with bacteria growing on them, not washing and drying every item immediately after use, not inspecting whether everything is spotlessly clean before being put away, leaving the dishes to drip dry on the sink, leaving them in piles on the sink for days and washing your dishes but not someone else’s cup when they wash yours.  No share house should be without a dishwasher – period.

Q : Do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend?

It’s definitely uncool to bring home random shags every night of the week in a share house.  Your flatmate will be less than impressed at being kept awake by the loud noises coming from your room, and she also won’t appreciate having to make conversation over her toast with some strange guy whose helping himself to her orange juice in the morning.

Q: Which shelf would you like in the cupboard?

Sharing food within a share house is a recipe for disaster.  Inevitably, all out war will break out because someone always eats more than everyone else. Always, always ask first before you borrow something from someone else. If it isn’t your milk, don’t use it. Such acts inevitably lead to the dreaded note from the housemate on the kitchen table – the appearance of which, is the beginning of the end and you may as well start looking for the number of a good removalist.

Q: Are you mentally stable?

There’s nothing worse than tip toeing around someone in your own house, but no one is going to confess to being a moody bitch in the mornings when you first meet.  It’s not until their toothbrush is in the bathroom, that they start to reveal their multiple personalities, and realise you have moved in with not only Sharon, but also Melissa and Karen.

Q: Can you tell me what the Dow Jones are today?

Splitting the phone bill between everyone is more involved than a United Nations treaty.  There’s always an international phone call that nobody seems to remember calling or is willing to highlight with their nominated coloured pen. The electricity company will threaten to cut the off the supply at least twice a year, and after 3 days of living circa 1808, playing eye spy in the dark quickly loses its appeal.

Furthermore, whoever is responsible for keeping the house in sundries always seems to be hungover on the designated shopping day, leaving you stranded on the toilet with your knickers down and no toilet paper, and when you go to the kitty to get some money to buy more, it’s empty and full of I owe you notes.

Yes, there inevitably comes a time in every woman’s life when she shuns sharing in favour of her very own abode, because she no longer wants to peg her knickers next to some strange guys on the line, can leave the dishes overnight if she wants to, doesn’t have to tip toe around other people’s moods, put up with anal retentive control freaks, and can sleep in as long as she wants without being woken up by other people slamming the microwave door in the morning.

What are your nightmare flatmate stories?

Image Credits: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

A reader recently wrote to The Modern Woman’s Survival Guide about her experiences attempting to come off anti depressant medication. Here’s what she had to say:

When I wanted to come off my anti depressant medication, I looked on every corner of the earth for support. Those pharmaceutical companies make me a bit cross sometimes. They’re “all go” when it comes to getting on them, then “nowhere to be seen” when one needs realistic tools to go off them, telling you to taper off them in 2 weeks. Oh well it seems to be all about $$$ to them, and I didn’t feel right about giving them my hard earned money any more. They were a blessing, but my body just knew when it was time, and I was actually feeling emotionally worse on them at that point.”

This reader has since come off her medication after discovering The Road Back book, and reports that she is feeling better than she ever has.

With statistics reporting that one in four people suffer from depression in their lifetime, I am of the belief that there are a hell of a lot of people out there who are struggling with not only depression, but also struggling to come off their anti depressant medication, due to the side effects that seem to keep them trapped in continuing to take them.

We would like to hear from readers who have struggled to successfully become medication free post the need for the medication to treat their depression or have you successfully come off medication? What have been your experiences?

Disclaimer: The Modern Woman’s Survival Guide would like to disclaim that coming off anti depressant medication should always be done in conjunction with your Doctor, and in no way is this article offering medical advice. The Modern Woman’s Survival Guide has no monetary affiliation with the book mentioned in this article, nor is the The Modern Woman’s Survival Guide endorsing the book without support from your medical professional.

First Published in Onya Magazine on March 3rd, 2011.

I’ve come to the conclusion that the world is, in no uncertain terms, screwed. I cannot remember the last time I received a bill, ordered a meal or bought something from a shop that did not require a return trip to address some issue, a phone call to clarify something or a painful exchange with someone.

And it appears I am not alone. Apparently we’ve all argued with a telecommunications company, or bought an electrical item to find it kaput when we arrived home, or simply tried to order a meal without a food substance that’s going to send us into allergic rapture…to no avail.

But we can’t all be wrong.

I’m not sure of the current unemployment rate, but I know that the incompetency rate is at an all time high. Complete and utter incompetence is washing over our great nation – and half the time it is washing over us from an offshore call centre.

I’m not sure about you, but I’m tired of spending 10 minutes spelling my name in Alpha Bravo Charlie every time I need to make an enquiry about an account – to someone listening to me on delay.

I’m sick of all the fees and taxes associated with everything to do with our lifestyle. I have a landline. I have to pay rental on my handset. Despite the fact that I purchased the handset myself. I don’t rent it. But I get charged for it. Make sense to you?

If you were to subtract the fees and charges from your monthly bills, chances are you’d be able to buy a small island in the French Riviera.

We are governed by morons, over-governed in fact, by morons that penalise the good, the honest and the hard working at every turn and allow organisations, companies and businesses to deliver inadequate goods and services.

The system, that fateful word that’s thrown around every time something crashes, is lost, or someone operating it is just too cretinous to use, is the bane of our modern existence. And it’s the same system that does not protect the innocent and most certainly does not reward those who do the right thing.

Nothing is easy anymore. Nothing is seamless. Nothing just works.

Read the rest of her article, by clicking here. It sure has readers divided, but let it be known, that I’m right behind her. Love. Her. Work.