Surviving January

I never make New Year resolutions, I’ve written about it many times before, for me it’s just an additional source of anxiety and we all know that most of us don’t really stick to them. Instead I make a wishlist, and try to make some of those wishes come true. Some will and some won’t. That’s OK. As long as I try and as long as I’m well and as active and creative I want to be, that’s all that matters.

In the last few years I started a tradition with an annual wish I make at the end of each year. This is for 2023.

I want to wish everyone health, love, a year full of beautiful memories and above all, remember to look after and love yourself, stand for what you believe, don’t sacrifice your time for anything that’s not worth it, and chase your dreams whatever those maybe. Life is too short to wait or put up with anything that tortures your mind and soul.

Since most of us struggle with January blues, inspired by a mindfulness advent calendar, and after a discussion I had with one of my best friends, I decided to put together a ‘Surviving January’ advent calendar, where I share an activity you can do each day to cheer you up and keep you going. Thank you to all my friends on social media who shared their ideas, I used almost all of them in one way or another!

You can find the calendar here in Greek and in English: https://calendar.myadvent.net/?id=uq1xh7nx9l735wibvj6zuqqihfehpdcx

If you don’t want to wait each day to open the relevant box, you can have a look at all the activities here and decide when to do what.

Let me know what you think and if you need the calendar in another form.

Happy New Year!

Eleni

Advertisement

Those 40 minutes… (An ode to Running)

I’m not the best or the fastest runner.

But those 40 minutes of running alongside trees,

the smell of the soil and the greenery around,

listening to music,

people watching, imagining what they are running from or to,

those stress, worry-free minutes when my body just feels alive and my mind can only hear my heart beat.

Breathing in the morning air, starting the day with a clear head.

A truly special level of mindfulness.

Pure bliss.

Namaste.

Eleni

World Mental Health Day (the pandemic version)

This year I won’t write much about how important is World Mental Health Day. We all know that every day is Mental Health Day, we can’t look after our mental health once a year, we need to tend to it as much as we do our physical health, if not more and asking for help if needed is nothing to be ashamed of, it only shows you are human with feelings.

And if you are one of those people who goes around boasting you never had a mental health problem and telling others they should ‘man up’, then you are in deep denial. One person every 40 seconds commits suicide. Take a minute to let that sink in before you devalue others’ mental health struggles.

I won’t talk about my personal experience either, I’ve done it plenty of times, you can read more here, I just want to say, after everything the whole planet has been and still going through, especially these last few months, the constant fear of contracting the virus, worrying about our loved ones who are more vulnerable than others, the prolonged lockdown, struggling to cope with being inside for so long, the effects on our financial situation and worrying about employment and money, the psychological effects of self isolation, after all these and unfortunately much more, please just remember:

It’s OK. It’s OK to struggle, it’s OK to be angry, sad, frustrated, disappointed, worried.

We are all different and we all deal with our issues in our own way. Do what you need to do for yourself, look after yourself and remember to devote time on your mental wellbeing, in whatever form helps you, it could be anything. For me is yoga, writing, music and travelling, wandering around (though I can’t do much travelling right now but I try as much as I can on my little island). For others could be drawing, dancing, anything. Please don’t feel guilty if you haven’t been ‘productive’ or had a sofa day. 

And if you can, speak about it. Let’s get rid of the stigma once and for all. Why is it fine to talk about heart disease, cancer, little pains, big pains, express our worries, pain and fear when it comes to physical health but we still can’t openly talk about  it when we feel down or sad, or are diagnosed with depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, borderline personality?

So that’s my message for today. Look after yourself and talk about mental health.

Eleni

5 minute mindfulness activity

Wow.

What a week. One of the most stressful of being a teacher. New classes with a small business group, formal observation, trying a dogme lesson, my birthday I couldn’t even celebrate because of work, a conversation club on Friday evening.

I also managed to book a flight back to Cyprus for July, but whether it will materialise it’s anyone’s guess.

To cope with all the stress I’m trying to focus a day at a time and try and enjoy the present as much as possible (sometimes it’s not that possible).

So I thought for my weekly post and video to put this little activity I wrote about a while ago into a little video.

The rest of the details is on the video. Skip to 3:04 for the activity if you wan’t to go straight in.

Eleni

5 minutes of mindfulness

About two and a half years ago I went to a talk on recognising signs of mental health problems, by Hugh Clarke, the Former Head of Counselling services at London Met University and counselling Psychologist.

It was a brilliant talk (you can read about it here), informative, thought-provoking, we chatted about it for a while afterwards. I still remember how it started, a 5 minute mindfulness activity guided by Mr Clarke. I absolutely loved it and everyone in the room seemed to have enjoyed it too. No surprise there of course. Mindfulness (focusing in the present moment, whilst accepting one’s feelings, thoughts and body sensations, in a nutshell) has been scientifically proven to alleviate anxiety, reduce rumination, improve attention, manage chronic pain amongst many many other benefits .

A lot of people are sceptical, I was initially too. I had tried to practise mindfulness myself before that day but I found it incredibly hard to focus (my overthinking brain struggles to concentrate on just one thing at a time) and ‘aids’ I discovered (e.g. apps), made me giggle, perhaps too cheesy for me. But Hugh’s 5 minute guided exercise completely changed my mind. It wasn’t cheesy, funny, or superficial. It worked fine and by the time we were done I forgot about everything else and my whole attention was turned to the session. It was just perfect.

Fast forward to about a month ago, Nour and I were thinking of ideas on how to start our presentation for our ‘Survival Guide for New EFL teachers’ session and then I had an epiphany. Hugh’s mindfulness opening activity was so effective I still remembered it after all this time, and we all, especially newly qualified teachers desperately need to be able to focus in the moment, do one thing at a time instead of trying to multitask and failing miserably, so why not start our session by giving our audience 5 minutes to relax and forget about anything else?

So, I found a 5 minute mindfulness activity online, similar to Hugh’s but the language used was too ‘formal’ and frankly tacky, so I created my own using my personal experience and a mixture of Hugh’s activity and the ones I found online (I may have borrowed some beloved expressions from Yoga with Adriene). I thought I’d share it in case others would like to use it. A colleague suggested I made a video (for those that may want to try it on themselves) and I would love to but that takes time so for now here’s the instructions (remember to take your time with each step, check your participants’ reactions and act accordingly):

  1. First, sit comfortably on your chair. Close your eyes and relax your shoulders. Place your feet on the floor, if comfortable, your entire soles touching the ground. If you want to giggle, then feel free to do so!
  2. Take a long deep breath (take a deep breath yourself). Now let’s focus on your toes. Wiggle them, feel them, then curl them really tight. Keep curling…. and release. Take another deep breath.
  3. Now move up to your ankles. Again, notice how they feel (pause) and now move on to your knees. Do they feel tense? If so, relax.
  4. Any thoughts that may come up in your mind e.g. what you are doing after this, what you are having for dinner, imagine they are in a bubble and let them float away. Take a deep breath.
  5. Now relax your bottom (pause), your pelvis (pause) and then begin to notice any tension you may have on your back. Take another deep breath.
  6. Now focus on your shoulders. How do they feel? Now lift them up, lift, lift, lift and…. release. Wonderful. Take another breath.
  7. Now relax your neck, gently twist your head left to right and let any tension go.
  8. Now focus on your jaw. Is it tense? Are you clenching? If so, relax your jaw muscles and take a deep breath.
  9. Finally focus on the top your head. Notice if you are frowning, we often do without realising, and relax your eye brows.
  10. Now lift your shoulders once more, lift, lift, lift…. and release. Let any remaining tension go.
  11. Now focus your attention on what’s happening in the room. Notice any sounds you can hear, any smells…
  12. Take one last deep breath… and open your eyes. How are you feeling now?

A day of Communicare, Art and Crafts

Saturday morning

My alarm went off at 8am but I could barely move. I’ve only been back from my holiday for a day and went straight to work, on a Friday. After a week of wandering and exploring the Forest, London and Brussels (I will be attempting to put together vlogs to accompany my blogs, coming soon hopefully, if I manage to learn the basics of video editing, wish me luck!), I was in high spirits but oh my I was tired.

I was so close to not doing anything at all and have a rest day but my heart wouldn’t let me. I haven’t seen Kathy for a while and I promised to take her out for tea and cake next time I visit. She loves going out and about but after a recent fall she is not very mobile. If I were to hold her arm though and with the aid of her walking stick we could make it.

The Communicare Vintage and Craft fair was also on today, in Portswood. I thought maybe I’d skip that and go straight to Kathy’s but I haven’t seen the lovely Communicare people since I signed up to befriending and Bryony and I went to meet Kathy for the first time.

To make things worse, after a week of holiday and a week before payday I was pretty broke.

After arguing with my self, twirling and whirling in bed for a good half an hour I came up with a plan, sort of. I’d get up and get ready quickly, Uber it to the Fair and walk back home to save money. I could then head to Kathy’s. There were a lot of events in town on the day but I was too tired to attempt more.

I made it to the Fair when it had just started, at 11am. I was stationed at the entrance to welcome people in and ask them to guess the adorable Communibear’s favourite food to initiate conversation and it was fun as well.

I had the most fun and also bizarre couple of hours.

I got to talk to a lot of people and I’ve bumped into colleagues and lovely ladies from SingNow Choir I hadn’t seen for a while.

I watched Annie, Communicare’s manager interviewed by That’s TV Solent, a local TV channel and had a chat with the cameraman and interviewer about video editing.

A random man (who smelled of alcohol) thought I was Polish and came straight to me and asked for toilet paper. I don’t speak Polish but I managed to figure that out. Just before he left he asked for a selfie (!). That never happened to me before and I didn’t know what to do but agreed. I wondered whether that’s how famous people feel when strangers ask them for photos.

I had a slice of coffee and walnut cake and a quick wander in before I left. So many beautiful stalls including Sue’s wonderful flower arrangements.

It wasn’t too busy inside unfortunately as there were 4-5 major events running on the same day in the city, as I mentioned before but it looked great.

On my way back I decided to pop at the Spark and check out the Accessible Art Show. Amazing. Blog coming soon but here’s a flavour.

I then passed by Guildhall Square to listen to the live music (So: Music City Festival was on) but there were in between acts and setting up for the next performance. The Square wasn’t busy either.

After about an hour I made it to Kathy’s. I was a bit anxious whether she’d be OK getting out of the flat but as soon as I walked in her coat was by her side (though she didn’t know I was going today) and when I asked her if she felt well enough to go out she was so happy, her face lit I couldn’t possibly not at least try. Though her memory is not doing well she remembers the Shopping Mall and every time I ask her where she’d like to go, she mentions it first (she would love a cruise too, and a trip to Italy, her travelling spirit never goes away).

I helped her get her shoes on and slowly started moving. There are a few steps within the flat who she struggled with and she needed a minute or two to rest before we headed out. We stopped a couple of times for her to catch her breath but she loved it.

I got her some tea and cake and had a wander around West Quay. She finished all her cake and tea (It’s the first time I’ve seen someone enjoy their cake so much, taking her time to eat every single piece, mindfulness at its best, though I’m sure she never heard the term before but she definitely mastered it) watched people come and go, she had a chat with a random lady who sat next to her at a bench and smiled at everyone. I’ve never seen her so happy.

On our little walk we came across the ShopCreative fair but my attention was on Kathy I didn’t spend much time looking. It looked lovely though. It’s on all weekend if you fancy. The lovely Sarah is there with her gorgeous ceramic and glass creations.

I was worried on our way back as she got extremely tired and I held her whilst she leaned on a phone box to rest. But all good. We made it back home safe and she couldn’t wait until we go out again.

I hope she gets a wheelchair so I can take her further out. I wish I still had my car.

I came home feeling exhausted but happy. What a wonderful day it’s been. I treated myself to pizza and Netflix (the Maddeleine McCann Documentary is fascinating).

Now time to tackle my long to-do-list.

Happy Sunday!

Eleni

World Mental Health Day, 2018

Every year, since I started this blog, no matter how I feel and what I do, I always make time to write about World Mental Health Day.

It’s been celebrated since 1992, 26 years. A lot has changed since then, but there’s still a long way to go.

I won’t go into much detail of my own experiences, but I fell down the dark hole a couple of times, I’ve been through anorexia in my teenage years, I had a bitter taste of how hypo-chondria feels like and I’ve been struggling with anxiety for years and although I’m handling it much better it sometimes flares up. So, I know first hand what is like.

And is not just me. Many close, loved ones had their fair share of experiences.

Always remember, you are not alone, even when you think you are. God I know how tough it is. How impossible it feels to just admit you are struggling. But the moment you do it, to share it with someone else, family, a friend or dedicated helplines, it will make a huge difference.

And it’s OK not to be OK. Some days are better than others and some days are not. I’m battling with my own troubling, debilitating thoughts lately and I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep for days, I still make it out of bed, go to work, see my friends, do things most of the time and there are days that I just go straight home after work, crawl into fetal position, shut my eyes and lie there in silence, because it’s all too much to handle. And that’s OK.

After almost six centuries, since the first time the term ‘psychology’ ignited the research into the field, we finally live in an era where it is OK to be open and honest about your struggles. There is still stigma around it, but it’s getting better and more and more people, organisations, workplaces realise the importance of mental health.

This year’s theme is Young people and mental health in a changing world which couldn’t be more crucial. Mental Health Awareness, mindfulness and emotional intelligence training should be taught from a young age, children should learn how to recognise and manage their feelings and know from as early as possible that it’s OK not to be OK and that they have someone to talk to about their feelings and their struggles.

Maybe if the support was there for our generation, we would have been able to cope better, so let’s make it our goal to improve that for future generations.

I’ll close this with what I said last year, every day is Mental Health Day.

Here’s to another year of great initiatives to improve awareness and embed World Mental Health in our daily vocabulary.

PS Featured Image is one of the official World Mental Health Day 2018 posters by WHO (World Health Organisation). I do not own this image.

Namaste

Eleni

How anxiety feels like…

June 2014

I woke up soaking wet in sweat, it happens a lot lately…

I’m flying home today, after 4 years, is that true? It can’t be true. I’m excited but paralysed of fear. Nervous, shaking, I feel I’ll throw up any minute now. ‘What if the plane crashes?’, ‘What if my head explodes?’, ‘What if I have an infection and my appendix blows up on the plane?’ The beast has awaken once more…

I used to love flying. Absolutely adored it. And now, now I’m dreading it so much I may faint at any point on my way to the airport.

I was to fly home with my ex-boyfriend. We were together for 5 years and he hasn’t visited my home country yet. I’ve booked a hotel in Paphos and planned daytrips  to show him around. But his passport got washed by accident, he needed a new one, the Greek Embassy in London is ridiculously horrible blah blah blah. I don’t think he ever had any desire to come with me anyway…

I still really wanted to go despite my severe anxiety attacks and my extremely, hit rock bottom confidence. I’ve put on weight, I was unhappy, I hated my body, my daily routine, I hated myself.  Costas and I argued a lot, I rarely felt appreciated and although I told him about my troubles he couldn’t help me. He was dealing with depression himself.

I did well to hide it from my family and my friends. I smiled, I joked as if everything was OK. But inside. Inside, the pain was real. I struggled almost every day, I was scared to do anything and my anxiety also developed to hypochondria. I often diagnosed myself with cancer. The pain was not just mental, it was physical. My breast hurt, my teeth hurt, my head hurt, everything hurt. My mind made my body hurt to convince me I was gravely ill.

That’s what anxiety does to you. It blurs your mind. It turns simple daily tasks into a nightmare, it makes you paranoid, it makes you scared to leave the room. It’s painful. Your head, your brain, your mind hurts. Everything hurts. It’s noisy, never quiet in there and that drains you. It sucks the life out of you.

But I made it. I made it home. And I ended up staying three weeks instead of two and had the best time ever. A friend’s wedding, my sister’s birthday, days at the beach, daytrips around the island, my sister and her friend taking part in a TV music show, severe sunburn. A three week ray of sunshine in my grey, miserable life.

That was the very first time I realised I was in a dead end relationship and I also needed help. But right now the only one who could really help me was myself. Or I thought that nobody else would because I did not want to ask for help from anyone. ‘Who can I ask? I don’t have any close friends in Southampton and I don’t want to worry my family or my friends.’

After I went back I was in tears daily, fighting with my worst enemy, myself to put these irrational thoughts aside and get out of this dark hole.

And I made it. I joined the workplace choir, I started exercising and improved my diet and I later joined SingNow choir which was a turning point for me. I met my best friend, my Sheba, I’ve made great friends and that’s what opened my eyes to the beauty and love I missed out of for years because I was told to ‘be careful what you tell others about us’, ‘lose weight’, ‘you can’t do this’, ‘that’s not good enough’.

I still had bad days.

Anxiety and depression never go away. They are always there at the back of your mind and they make their appearance again when you least expect it, when you are already down on your knees, crying your eyes out, because life got too much again…

After the breakup and my aunt’s death I was in denial and avoided even the tiniest opportunity to deal with the demons that tormented me for years. I was out all the time, drinking, travelling, avoiding any time with myself. I was not used to being on my own, let alone on my own with two of my least favourite friends residing in my brain.

It finally caught up with me about a year ago. It slowly started in November but it reached its worst point in January. I couldn’t eat, I didn’t want to go out, I didn’t want to see anyone. I quit SingNow and stopped going to the workplace choir, I  turned down any invitations from friends. I isolated myself from everyone. Although I was scared. Terrified. Daily things stressed the hell out of me, getting dressed, making dinner. I often skipped eating completely. I was not hungry anyway.

‘What if I die? Nobody will miss me. At least it will put an end to this pain.’

After I’ve written about it, I pushed, no, I forced myself to get out of it. I slowly crawled out of the hole, towards the light… I re-joined the workplace choir and I went home for a week in April which helped immensely. I didn’t have to worry about trivial things I worried when I was on my own, like ‘Have I left the iron on?’, ‘What if someone breaks in whilst I’m asleep alone at home?’ (I lived on the third floor, highly unlikely).

I decided to take part in the One Sound show, although I still suffered from anxiety attacks. It was different this time around. The year before I was excited and I couldn’t wait, the pros of the denial stage, you feel fearless… for a while.. but this time I was terrified. I cried when I went home after the big rehearsal. Seeing my SingNow friends after months, hugging me, asking me how I was, it was so overwhelmingly beautiful. I was worried even going to the rehearsal, thinking they may hate me.

The show was incredible although I struggled the whole time. I smiled but in my head the noise was louder than the noise of 300 choir singers backstage. Deafening.

2018-05-14 18.28.48.jpg

I now feel much better. With the help of my incredible, loving, caring colleagues, friends and family but mostly myself I made it to the other side.

There are still times or days I panic and worry about the most meaningless, little things or I feel down but I now know how to help myself get out of it. I know how to cope with it because I never want to hit rock bottom again.

Writing about it, music, yoga, mindfulness, finally loving and accepting myself, talking through it and lots of love from my nearest and dearest are my remedies.

Asking for help and sharing your irrational, crazy or unbelievably sad and depressing thoughts it’s not easy, it may well be the hardest thing of all to do, but it’s the most liberating feeling I’ve ever experienced.

Next time you see someone smile or laugh, do not assume they are OK. They may be fighting a demon inside… This is a snap of me from 2014, at my worst. Would anyone guess from this what was happening in my fucked up mind?

Smiling but dying inside

I hope one day mental illness is taken as seriously as any other illness and nobody is ashamed or scared to share their story.

Namaste

Eleni

 

Nothing stays the same and nothing changes… (part 2)

Thursday afternoon…

I’m ready. I put my Spotify on and After all comes up first… ‘tou tou tou tou tou tou...After all I really love you‘.  I smile. I loved this song since  the first moment I heard it, when a friend sent it to me a while ago. It never fails to cheer me up.

I packed all I need and waiting for the little one to pick me up. First stop, her Italian oral exam. Somehow half an hour later I find myself sitting with her and her course mate in the classroom. Stefano invited me in, I smiled and nodded. What a lovely man. Funky yellow trousers, cool glasses, a sweet, polite voice.

I’m surprised how much Italian I remember. I’m so proud of my little sis and her classmate. They did brilliantly.

I chat to a couple of her classmates afterwards, nervously waiting outside. I wish I could tell them that none of this really matters… Enjoy your life little ones and don’t worry about exams. But would have I listened if I was told that ten years ago when I was in their shoes?

Now… what should I have for dinner on Tuesday when I arrive back in Southampton late and exhausted? What about moving? What if I don’t find a place and have nowhere to stay, what if the agency messes up me and I have to stay another two months? (Cold sweat…) Stop it! Focus!

Now the exam is over it’s time to head to the theatre for a final rehearsal and the show.

There’s no signal in the theatre and I can’t use my phone. That’s for the best. It can be my worst distraction sometimes…

A few hours later…

Tickets sorted, all ready, it’s showtime!

It all went well minus a couple of hiccups. I feel bad I didn’t recognise the Vice Chancellor straight away. I’ve only seen a photo of him the day before and there was a mess up with the tickets… I didn’t instantly figure it out. But all well.

I’m so proud for my little sister and everyone involved in the musical. None of them is a professional singer or an actor but they put together a brilliant show. Now, let’s help pack, tidy up and go home…

 

 

I can’t unlock the car, why can’t I unlock the car?

I knew it! The long beep I’ve heard earlier when we were rushing out of the car was the lights. I told her. She thought it was the door…

Now it’s half past midnight and other than one more person, who didn’t have any equipment to help us start jump the car anyway there’s no one else left at the car park.

After about an hour, we are finally home. A friend came to the rescue and it all ended well. God I’m exhausted…

Friday noon…

I finally got some sleep. I still feel drained but there’s no rest for the wicked.

The little sis and I pop to the shops for some essentials. The guy at the newsagents starts a conversation… Surprised, I stare for a second and then I remember where I am and how people are different here. I smile and make a joke. I’ve adapted again, a couple of days before I’m about to leave…

Friday afternoon…

I’m meeting two of my oldest best friends. We’ve known each other since high school. We haven’t changed much, other than carrying our bruises and scars of the last 18 years, hopeful but more realistic and scared to dream as big…

And… a lovely surprise! A friend I haven’t seen for ten years, a friend I spent endless evenings just driving around town with, nights out and days at the beach as a naive and careless 20 year old. So happy to see him. He looks exactly the same. He talks exactly the same, strikingly honest as always but he as well more mature and pragmatic about life.

Saturday morning…

This is the only time during my short visit the five of us are all together and it’s hilariously chaotic as always. We go for a walk at the beach, still a bit too cold for a swim but perfect for a Saturday stroll and lunch. I can’t stop humming ‘tell me how to be in this world, tell me how to breathe in and feel no hurt’…

I cherish these rare moments, that’s what they are nowadays, rare and they will get rarer the older we get.

It’s funny how as a teen, even a young 20 year old, we dread family time with our parents and our siblings but the older we get, the more we realise the fragility of life and how thing may change at any minute, the more we appreciate the sacrifices they made and still make for us, their selfless love and the only thing they want in return is for us to be happy and spend time with them…

 

Saturday afternoon…

I finally get to see the only best friend I couldn’t see at Christmas. We sit at a cafe for hours chatting, with a coffee in hand, like we used to back at uni.

A few hours later we are having beers right next to the Faneromeni church with her fiance, his brother and my sister. It feels like a scene from Boyhood… but a few years later, now some 30 year olds who’ve known each other for years, sitting at a bar, just outside one of the oldest churches in Nicosia, having a beer, still troubled and  desperate seeking the meaning of life whilst reminiscing… What a beautiful, surreal way to end the day.

2018-05-13 13.28.53.jpg

Sunday noon…

No matter what you have planned for the day, there is always time for a cup of coffee and almost always the company grows at the last minute.

Sunday afternoon…

After some shopping and… a coffee with friends and sisters it’s time for my godson’s belated birthday. I’m so happy I’ve been to his first birthday last year and now his second. He’s grown so much and every time I see him our bond is getting stronger and stronger…

Pappou Costa and my aunties are here, my cousin’s little angels and her husband and relatives are here. I enjoy every moment, despite the mayhem and the noise, it actually somehow makes it better…

Monday noon…

I’m sitting at the Uni’s cafe with my mum. I’m on my laptop writing a post, the first part of this blog and she is knitting rosaries. It’s quiet, peaceful…It has just rained but the sun is out again. It never stays away for long on this island…

IMG_20180507_140704_158.jpg

Monday afternoon…

I take the little sister on an educational trip down old Nicosia. I’m surprised how little she knows about the island’s history but I’m glad I’m teaching her what I’ve known for years… Up the Siakolas tower for a panoramic view of the city, one of the few spots you can see over ‘the other side’ without having to show your passport to cross the green line, the only divided capital in the world, down the old town, the Archbishop’s place that was half burned during the coup in 1974, the house of the dragoman  Hadjigeorgakis Kornesios who, although working with the Turks, secretly helped his fellow Greek Cypriots in the 1800’s, when the country where under the Ottoman empire…

 

Tuesday morning…

My throat feels sore… typical. I’m getting a cold just as I’m about to leave. I try not to think about it.

I say goodbye to the family and this little man…

 

 

and my sister drops me off at the airport. I think I prefer it to just get dropped off rather than saying goodbye to my sisters and my mum to the gate. Still emotional but makes it easier to leave.

Time to go back, but I feel I needed a few more days… to tackle my overthinking… Remember, one day at a time…

IMG_20180510_210651_025.jpg

Remember… nothing stays the same and nothing changes…

Remember… you got this…

Namaste

Eleni

Nothing stays the same and nothing changes… (part 1)

Tuesday morning

I just woke up. Where am I? I’ve been having dreams about a friend, the same friend for two or three nights and they never end well, I can’t understand why… what is my brain trying to tell me? I wake up confused.

Two days ago I was on our amazing One Sound show, singing with my colleagues in front of 700 people and the next day knackered having a Sunday coffee with a friend and then watching Beast at Harbour Lights, a film I’m still thinking about.

But now I’m in the summer PJs my mum got me (pink floral Good Vibes written on the top, very fitting), it feels warm, no it feels hot, I must have sweat a lot last night. I remember. I remember my long day of taxi, train, flight. I remember the airport guard looking for a specific guy on my flight but he never showed up, I remember watching Schindler’s List on the plane (why I thought it’d be a good time to do that I don’t know,de-press-ing), my sisters and my mum at the airport…

I’m at home… my other home, my first home…

It always feels weird the first day or two I’m back. No matter how often I may visit, I always get this ‘out of place’ feeling every time. As if I travelled for days and I’m  now on another planet, an utterly and completely different life that’s somehow very familiar.

I guess it is. I’m a different person here, but also the same. Does that make sense? I’m not sure it does but I have a feeling that expats will get it.

Every time I come home I remember the person I used to be before I left, how I changed over the years, how I grew up, how living in the UK has changed me, but somehow deep down I’m still the same little girl. Am I a different person here or just a different version of myself?

I guess I subconsciously adapt to the environment, different people, different culture, different weather. Different but familiar… A familiar environment, everything is familiar but not as familiar as it used to be. People here are more open, more affectionate. I forget how they stare, how they start a conversation with a stranger with such ease. And after a day or two I’m more open and ‘more’ of everything myself. The wonders of human nature. How easily we learn and adapt to a different way of living… especially when we lived it before in ‘another life’.

Why am I thinking all of this now? Maybe it’s because I didn’t have any time to think for the last week or two, maybe a walk at the beach and a coffee by the sea with friends will help…

I keep mumbling Bastille’s Pompeii… But if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing changed at all? And if you close your eyes does it almost feel like you’ve been here before?

IMG_20180501_125849_885.jpg

Wednesday morning

Marios, the hairdresser remembers me and my friends in primary school. He remembers me playing my guitar… How? Why can’t I remember him? I wonder what my childhood friends are now doing… I later in the week discover that one of them is now a well known chef in Cyprus, Charalambos! I recognised him as soon as I saw him on TV. Last I remember of him was 10 year old us playing outside my grandma’s house. I have a picture of us on the school nativity play, he was Joseph and I was Holy Mary…

 

Later in the day…

I just got a message and a rainy snap from a friend back home. I sent him a snap of me in my summer attire. I finally escaped the longest winter, my longest winter in the UK. I smile… I’ve been chatting to two of my friends back… home all week. I don’t mind, I actually prefer it. I somehow don’t want to forget my ‘other’ life. It’s part of me.

I meet my little sister’s friends, her co-stars in the musical they’ve been working hard on for the last six months. I’ve heard so much about them and I can now put together faces and names. Although we just met they welcome me with such love and affection I find it moving and can’t stop smiling. They’ve heard a lot about me from my little sis and couldn’t wait for me to visit, and I’ve heard a lot about them, it feels as if we’ve already known each other for while. One of them wants to speak in English, he likes my ‘British’ accent. I giggle to myself. As much as I can try, I can never completely escape my ‘British’ self.

Later in the same day…

The three of us, again, like back in the day, in our uni years, having a drink and a cigarette, chatting, serious, deep conversations and bursting into hysterical laughs every now and then. No one would have ever guessed the turns, the ups and downs, the crazy, surreal almost things, people, events life threw at us. How we changed but we are somehow still the same.

Thursday morning

I can’t get out of bed. I’m exhausted. Ran out of energy. Completely. But I know today will be a long day. It’s the day of the show. That’s why I came home now and not summertime. I need to focus on that.

And stop thinking about what I’ll do when I’m back, decisions I need to make, what to focus on, what I can do to help the family here in case they need to move out in the near future. The condition of the flat is getting worse… the government is doing nothing. Maybe I can move in with a flatmate again so I can save and help my parents if needed? Although I hate it. Although I will worry whether they paid the bills, although I love and miss living on my own so much it hurts.

‘Do what is best for you. You are in your thirties, you work hard, you deserve to enjoy life, have your own place again. I’m sure everything will work out fine for us’ my mum said. I was about to cry but I didn’t. I knew that will set them off. I’m so blessed to have such an amazing pair for parents. They always put our happiness first. No matter what.

I feel guilt. I feel torn. What should I do? How do you make a decision like this? How do you make any important decision?

One of the reasons I need to go home every now and then (other than the sunshine) is to remember who I am, how much I’m loved, escape my troubles back home in the UK, reset and go back with a fresh mindset. But this time I find myself thinking of all the things I need to sort out most of the time. I can’t let it consume me…

A lyric from Vincent keeps playing in my mind…

Now I understand what you tried to say to me… how you suffered for your sanity…

Get ready, quickly, you only have an hour… Focus on the musical, focus on today, focus on the now. Please…

Eleni