Blogmas Day 10- A different kind of Monday

I usually dread Mondays. It takes me a day or two after the weekend to get used to my 9 to 5, desk based job after a couple of days doing only what I enjoy, draw, play my guitar, write, read, go out, stay in, watch a film, enjoy delicious food at local restaurants.

But not today. I was only at work until noon, we made our first HESES successful submission and in the afternoon I joined the wonderful Touch team for their away day. 

It was by far the best Away Day I’ve ever taken part in. Fun, creative, positive with a great mixture of different people, experts and ideas, from interns, fresh out of university with innovative ideas,  Sam an experienced digital marketing expert, Hannah and Rachel who work for Touch and have inside knowledge and are both insightful and creative and Debs, the Touch founder, creative, thoughtful who has a clear vision on how she’d like to develop Touch.

By the end of the day, everyone contributed and we had a clear, detailed plan on how to expand our events across the country so as many people as possible can share their story and inspire each other. 

What made a difference for me was that we all felt comfortable sharing our ideas and knowing that everyone’s ideas were valued. I guess there were no corporate limitations or culture or disappointment that usually occurs on away days in large organisations.

On this away day I  felt that no matter how it all pans out is that we’ll try our best and what’s on paper will be materialised (with a lot of trial and error as with everything) because we all care. 

We did  all this  whilst enjoying lunch at the White Star on Oxford street. I haven’t been there for a while but I was delighted the quality of food had not changed since. I enjoyed their roast pumpkin, spinach and walnut gnocchi so much I actually finished it. I rarely manage to do so, but it was too scrumptious to resist. 

A creative, positive, fun, exciting Away Day with great food we all looked forward to. That rarely happens. 

No idea what tomorrow will bring but only two weeks to Christmas Eve!

Eleni

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I now sleep in the middle of the bed

About a month ago, on a chilly Saturday evening, I snuggled with a blanket on my sofa, all snacks, sweet n’ salty popcorn, chocolate and a cup of tea at an arm’s reach and put on Bridget Jones’s baby, -you got to Love Netflix-, oh what a bliss!

Five minutes in, a scene shocked me, no it wasn’t how different Bridget’s face looked like, a scene that many wouldn’t even remember. Why?

She sleeps in the middle of the bed… She sleeps in the middle of the bed!!!

Why was I so shocked?

I’ve been single for three years now and until a month ago I slept on the corner of the right side of the bed, leaving most of it untouched. How have I not thought about it until that moment?

My lifestyle has completely changed in the last couple of years, and I’ve changed plenty of previous habits since I lived on my own, but this revelation made me wonder. How many things in my daily life I still do just out of habit without realising? How many things we all do every single day in a specific way just because that’s what we are used to?

Since then, I re-arranged  the many, many pillows I have on my bed and I now sleep in the middle. And I’ve never slept better. I don’t wake up scared I’m at the edge of the bed about to fall down, I actually make the most of it and spread, move, swirl to my heart’s content.

I’m now trying to figure out what else I do because I’m used to it, because it worked better before when I was younger/in a relationship/completely different and not because it’s the most convenient, comfortable solution.

Next time you do something you do every day, stop for a minute and think of why you are actually doing in that way, at that time. The answer may shock you!

Eleni

On board Queen Victoria

Friday, 20th of July,

8:03. The alarm goes off.

I can’t get up. I can’t move my feet. I really want to make it to the QEII terminal. I really want to make it to Queen Victoria but I’m really not sure I can.

You know that feeling, after a huge stressful event in your life, an exam, an interview, a dentist’s appointment (for some of us), when the adrenaline dramatically goes down and emotional and physical exhaustion takes its place? When there is still some stress residue at the back of your brain, but you feel drained and tired all the time?

My anxiety reached record highs in the last couple of weeks, it reached levels I couldn’t keep under control. I physically felt sick, sick to my stomach.

The drama of finding a place to move into tested every inch of me (blog coming soon). As soon as I moved in I relaxed. But couldn’t shake this blanket of sadness. That was to be expected. Closing the door on the last 6 months was not easy.

Last night I had to say goodbye to our beloved boss Dave (more on that soon). I know we’ll keep in touch but there is a real possibility I may never see him again. I may not be in Southampton or in this country when he comes back from Bangladesh, he may decide to stay there permanently…  I may never see him againWhat a terrifying thought.

‘Why didn’t he say hi??’ Whilst I was sitting at Tapas, waiting for Dave and the rest of the gang, I saw someone I knew passing by. They pretended they didn’t see me and I did the same. I don’t handle rejection well. I  instantly felt sad. Sometimes I feel too much… I walked to the bar to get a drink, had a laugh with Angel, the barman (that’s what I call him after he made me a delicious Angel’s Touch) and then I looked around the table, the beautiful company I was in, my wonderful friends and colleagues and smiled. Maybe one person rejected you, but look how many others love you and cherish your friendship.

But I really want to make it to the ship visit. All the lovely people I met last time will be there, Danny, Liam, Jordan, Richard, Cat, Tansy and when will I ever be offered the chance again to get a free tour and three course meal on one of Cunard’s most luxurious ships?

I drag myself out of bed, had a quick shower and got ready. No casual clothes as per the dress code so I put on my blue floral dress and black heel sandals and make my way to the terminal.

The sun is shining and the harbour is buzzing with passengers getting out of the ship, naval staff getting on board, taxis, cars. I love it.

A million thoughts cross my mind on my way there. I’ve been struggling with confidence again lately and the sadness is overwhelming sometimes. I wonder whether anyone will remember me from last time, if they still like me, if they ever liked me?

I make it on time for a change! Everyone is there, having a cup of coffee. I grab one and I start chatting with two lovely ladies who work for the Mayflower.

And then I meet Christina. A Solent Cruise Management graduate who landed her dream job at Carnival. Another great Solent success story. I wonder if our ER people know about her... We chat about living abroad, her job, her dreams, her aspirations. She is gonna be one of our tour guides and she is a bit nervous. I’m somehow certain she’ll do great.

The tour is about to begin. Christina and her manager (why can’t I remember her name?) who looks very familiar were brilliant. Where do I know her from? Who does she remind me? Is it from my time at Carnival?

The main hall looks amazing, with the grand piano catching my eye immediately and where later it’ll be full of  beautiful music by three exquisite violinists which I genuinely thought it was a recording. I could imagine myself in a vintage lace dress walking down the stairs, sitting across the violinists enjoying a glass of wine…

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We then pop to the library, it has a very traditional, Harry Potter, almost magical feeling to it.

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I vaguely remember the rest of the tour, especially towards the end, when hunger was getting real but some of my favourite parts I do remember and snapped:

One of the suites that was larger than my whole flat. As part of the package you get your own personal butler and champagne amongst other perks.

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One of the standard rooms, very claustrophobic.

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The gorgeous, elegant restaurant areas…

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My favourite part of the ship: The Spa. Especially the hot stone chairs, I could stay on those for ever.

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My second favourite part: The viewpoint on the upper deck. The views are breathtaking. Every night in my dreams
I see you, I feel you
That is how I know you, go on

 

 

The theatre. Bright red and gold colours. Stunning.

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The vintage dance/performance/ball room. Here I am again, in my vintage lace dress, jiving…

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And as with every ship, the beautiful sea views. What is it that draws me to the sea? Is it because I was born on an island? 

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By the end of the tour we were all starving.

We met at the Britannia restaurant for our three course meal and unlimited wine.

I went for the Crayfish and Crab cocktail with avocado sauce for a starter, the roasted (to perfection) medium rare beef accompanied by glazed vegetables and finished off with white chocolate profiteroles served with pistachio and coffee ice cream.

 

All three courses were delicious, the wine and service were impeccable (the waiter refilled our wine glasses every time we were running low) and I had just the best company on my table. Tansy, Liam, Jordan, Gavin and… Leslie! That’s who she reminds me of, Leslie Knope!! She sounds like her, she even looks like her. Here she is at the background. Pat, Sarah? Doesn’t she look like her??

Leslie Knope

At some point during lunch, the lovely Danny, one of the main organisers of the Pride came over to chat about my responsibilities for the day. I’m incredibly grateful he trusted me with something so important and I hope I won’t disappoint him.

For those who don’t know Danny, he is not only kind and sweet, he also does most of the planning for the Pride alongside his main job. He goes home after work and spends hours organising THE whole thing. I truly admire him.

It’s now less than a month before the biggest, most colourful, cheering, love celebratory, open to everyone, party takes place in Southampton, the Southampton Pride 2018 (25th of August). And I can’t wait. 

If anyone would like to volunteer, I’d with no second thought recommend it. You meet amazing people, who make you feel loved from the very first moment you meet them, it’s a fun day you’ll never forget and who knows, you may be on the next free meal Cunard offers for volunteers.

A huge, enormous thank you to Southampton Pride, Danny, the rest of the organisers and Cunard for supporting such a great initiative and of course for the free ship visits and delicious meals.

I wouldn’t probably afford to go on a cruise on either Ventura or Queen Elizabeth and even if I could, I’d opt for a month exploring Cuba and Costa Rica so for me to be given the opportunity to get a glimpse of how these gorgeous sea crafts operate and what they offer to their passengers as well as eating on board with such a wonderful bunch, it truly is a blessing.

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.

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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.

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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…

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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…

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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?

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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

You and You. The most important relationship.

I open my eyes… I don’t know what time it is. I don’t know where I am, what am I thinking? What is my first thought? I look around. I’m in my room…

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I woke up a couple of times through the night. Weird dreams, my mind’s way of reminding me that I need to stop, take a break and think, process what is happening, take care of myself rather than keep distracting me by keeping busy.

I had a wonderful week. I caught up with friends I hadn’t seen for a while, farewell lunch for Alison, I went to my first Touch Network (the charity I want to volunteer for) event I absolutely loved and will post about very soon, I spent yesterday afternoon on board Ventura, enjoying a three course meal with my Southampton Pride Volunteer friends (post coming soon) and in the evening I finally got to try L’Osteria’s enormous pizzas, al Fresco, chatting and laughing with a friend, watching the terrifying thunderstorm.

But, I forgot me. I neglected me. The most important relationship. With myself. I suddenly remember Nayyirah Waheed’s three line poem.

there is you and you.

this is a relationship.

this is the most important relationship.

 

I’m in endless dilemmas on all aspects of my life, work, personal, spiritual and I’ve strategically avoided making any decision, probably my biggest weakness, making decisions, by keeping busy, drinking, eating out a lot, doing anything else other than taking care of myself.

Last night I finally stopped. As soon as I came home, soaking wet from the thunderstorm, I cried. And I cried. I was not drunk or had a crazy moment, I just stopped, I was in my room, by myself and all the things I didn’t process, I didn’t think of all week, hit me in the face.

I message Shebs. I know she is probably the only one who can understand. And she did. She does, she always does.

I was always on the fence whether soulmates exist. But now I know they do. They don’t necessarily come in the form of a lover or a partner and I don’t think we only have one.

Shebs is one of my soulmates. My little sister is another one. We just understand each other on a different level, there’s a deeper, more spiritual connection.

I’m happy. And sad. Grateful. Worried. Anxious about some things, completely and utterly relaxed about others. Unsure, uncertain, in painful conflict but at the same time blessed.

The next couple of weeks will be unbelievably busy but I promise you, you, myself that I’ll make time for you. And take care of you.

Remember, the most important relationship.  Take care yourself. Love and nurture it.

Not because ‘if you don’t love yourself, you can’t love anyone else’ or ‘if you don’t love yourself, how do you expect anyone else to do so?’ That’s all bull***t. 

The love I felt from my friends and family when I hit rock bottom and hated myself is what helped me keep going and I wouldn’t be here today if it’s wasn’t for them. You can love and be loved no matter what.

Take care of yourself for you.

Eat healthy, exercise, do yoga, make decisions, however hard it may be, even if that means you’ll disappoint people you care about. But they will understand. I hope they will.

All I want right now is a hug. One of the simplest, purest, most beautiful forms of love. It will have to wait until tomorrow. I’m not leaving my room today.

For now I’ll stay in Parsva Savasana (The Side fetal pose) for hours, contemplating whilst listening to my favourite music…

Namaste

Eleni

 

You are very much on time

Today I’m not reflecting back on last week.

I weirdly can’t remember much of it. It’s all a blur.  I remember walking home after my hairdresser’s appointment on Monday evening, only to find out the next day that a girl was raped at the very same park I walked through, roughly at the same time I passed by.

I didn’t hear a thing. It was only 6:30pm in the evening. It shouldn’t be dangerous walking through a park with so many people around early in the evening.

I no longer walk through the park at night, most days. Some days I’m angry that women in this day and age are advised not to walk through a park in the afternoon, just to be on the safe side, so I walk through it and I’m ready to fight whoever tries to even touch me.

I remember Mike’s birthday lunch and the fire at Waterstone’s whilst we were at Turtle Bay. How sad to see all the books, all the beautiful books with amazing stories on their pages, all the philosophy, science, literature, fiction books that open up our minds and teach us valuable lessons burnt.

Waterstones

And I remember having delicious pies for lunch on Thursday. This is it. The rest is nonsensical in my brain.

What I vividly remember is waking up one day during the week in tears. I was terrified, panicking. Panicking this year is going so fast, too fast. I cannot believe it’s already March.

I went through a whirlwind of emotions, thoughts. I’ve been contemplating about life a lot this week.

‘Am I good enough?’

‘What should I do next?’

‘What do I really want to do next?’

‘What if I die right now?’

‘What have I achieved in my life so far?’

‘I am running out of time. I’m almost 32, what should I do?’

Excruciatingly painful questions with no simple answers.

And then I remembered. I remembered a video my lovely Lou sent me.

A simple, minute and a half long video going through examples on how people achieve different things at different times. One might have become a CEO when they were 22 and then died a year later whereas someone else became a CEO when they were 50 and lived until their 90. Just an example to show that we all work on our own time zones, some might seem ahead and some might seem behind you, we shouldn’t mock them or envy them. Because we are all running our own race, in our own time, our own time zone.

So simple, yet so powerful. I’m in my own time zone, as you are in yours.

It’s incredibly tough to not compare yourself to others. Society norms dictate and often measure your success on others. But that’s not the case.

I recently finished reading one of the best books I’ve ever read and I would recommend it to anyone and everyone, Emotional Intelligence, why it can matter more than IQ by Daniel Goleman.

I’ve learned a lot from this one book, from the neuroscience behind it to what Emotional Intelligence is to how developing it can benefit yourself, others, the society, the world, but I won’t go into much detail, one must read it to get the full picture.

Emotional Intelligence, recognising your own emotions and managing them effectively, motivating yourself, recognising emotions in others and handling relationships is what can make or break you. Emotional Intelligence in contrast to the highly regarded by many IQ can be cultivated and improved at any age. And it should. It’s vital and essential. It all starts from a very young age. The way your parents raise you up even since you are a toddler affects your whole life but you have the power to change it. It should be taught at school, it should be taught from a young age.

Why? Because when we finally become adults we can cope better in life. We learned how to be good, loving caring humans. We are aware when and why we are happy, upset, angry.  We recognise how others behaviours affect us and how to change that, we know how to treat people truly respectfully without letting prejudices affect us. We are more resilient to social pressure and all of the social rules dictating our lives. We won’t feel the need to measure our success by comparing our lives to others, because we have the emotional intelligence to recognise that’s just emotions and feelings imposed by others. 

What is success anyway? Money, fame, reaching the top of your career ladder?

No, not really. Many have done that and if you ask them years later they all say the same thing. They’d rather have spent more time doing things they love, with the people they love, making memories.

Of course it’s important to love what you do. And I respect people who love their work. But work is not everything and it shouldn’t define us. And not all of us are lucky to be doing what we love for a living.

In one of the first Derren Brown books I read, Derren whilst explaining how he memorises and recalls people’s names, mentions that when he meets people he never asks them what most would ask, what they do for a living, because some might hate their job and what they do doesn’t define who they are, but he instead asks them what they do in their spare time, what their hobbies are, what they love doing, and then associates their name with some of their favourite things. What a great way to remember people’s names!

I’ve met many ‘successful’ people in my life. Most could only talk about their job and their career, understandably because they love it but they couldn’t discuss about anything else. They rarely read any book, they rarely had time, or made time, to go on a holiday or explore another culture, they haven’t listened to music or went to the theatre for months. They couldn’t remember the last time they’ve seen a film, they had no knowledge or experience in anything else other than their work.

If that’s success, then I do not want it.

What I loved about my lunch with Charlie yesterday is that we could chat about films, life, society, Higher Education, music to travelling and life. Because we both love learning, trying new things and our life doesn’t revolve around work. What we do for a living does not define us and it shouldn’t.

What the world needs is more well-rounded people like Charlie. Well-rounded, emotionally intelligent, loving, caring humans.  People who have what the Japanese called Ikigai, ‘a reason for being’.

Some of them might have reached success in the conventional sense, some might not. But it doesn’t matter.

I don’t know if anyone in years to come would even remember who I was, I don’t know if I leave a big mark on this crazy world, but we all leave our mark, big or small.

What I’ll leave for others is what I learned from my life through my blog, I’ll leave thousands of photos of delicious food and beautiful places and stories of amazing humans.

The feature image I used for this post today is an example of what I’ll leave for others. A gorgeous moment I captured whilst walking to work. I stopped walking for a second because I wanted to take in the beauty of this world. The sun coming out of the clouds, shining gloriously, brightening the beautiful park. Every time I stare at the sun I think of all my friends and family who live far away but at that moment standing there, the same sun is shining where they are. At that moment they don’t feel that far.

We are on our own time zones, literally and metaphorically but we are part of each other’s life, we are part of each other’s time line, in the most beautiful way. Because we love and care about each other. And I smile. 

It’s all about the little things, it’s all about enjoying every single moment, trying new things and for me right now, doing more things I want to but I’m scared of. And everything will fall into place. Just like that.

There is no better way to end this post with a poignant quote by my favourite lady, Leslie Knope.

—kflagrega

Namaste

Eleni

Wild Mushroom Ravioli, Gyro, Snowmageddon and being brave

Sunday early afternoon…

I’m sitting at one of my favourite little cafes in Southampton, The Docks Coffee house with a hot cup of Americano and a delish fruit loaf served in cute, vintage cutlery.

I enjoy writing in random places, other than home but I don’t get much free time to do it. Last time it was way back in July, when I ventured to Mettricks on a warm, summery Sunday afternoon to write about Awakenings, one of the most interesting books I’ve ever read.

Back then I was terrified to go sit at a cafe on my own, I was still struggling with depression and I found it a little bit overwhelming, maybe because it was busy and loud, normal, everyday situations that could cause a panic attack when you are dealing with depression and anxiety.

But today I feel better than ever, I love sitting on this cosy comfy armchair writing and people watching.

Sunday blogs…

I don’t normally post on specific days, it all depends when I get the time and if I feel like it, but over the last couple of weeks I love reflecting back on each week, especially since the last month or so has been really busy I don’t get time to stop, wait a minute (terrible UpTown funk pun) and think of what happened every day. I try to break habits because I hate routine but I grew to love my Sunday posts and I hope to keep up with it.

Last week of February

On Sunday, after posting my last blog on Life, Death and Everything Between I made a delicious, healthy dinner to help me kick off the week on the right foot. Et voila (my new obsession: Courgette spaghetti).

Sunday dinner

Monday, not fun day

But the next morning I was just not feeling it. I felt drained emotionally and physically. Sad news and tiredness took its toll. One of those Mondays as I phrased it on the day

Monday feeling

My momma Donna was already on the case, she knew how to cheer me up. She got me a cute little Happinness Journal so I can write what made me smile every day and remind myself to enjoy the little things and that life it’s still beautiful no matter what. Thank you Donna.

IMG_20180302_124711_046.jpg

Tuesday- the first Snow

Tuesday was so busy I didn’t get to have my first cup of coffee until 10:30am, I was late for singing and the whole day felt like a blur. One of the very few things I remember was all the hugs, from Dan, Helen, Emma and other lovely humans and the snow blizzard which unfortunately only lasted for 10 minutes (who would have thought the University would be closed a few days later due to snowstorm). In the evening some colleagues (I loved all the food convos with Denise, Fraser and Chris, I had to mention it) and I went for a drink to say goodbye to our lovely colleague Peter who left Solent to go travelling. I love our kitchen chats, talking about travelling and photography. Peter if you are reading this, I hope you have an amazing time in Cape Verde and see you soon!

Snow Tuesday

Wednesday- Glorious food and glorious show

Wednesday was a long long, busy day again but it turned into the most amazing evening I had in a while, A finger-licking three course meal at Soleto (including the most delicious Wild Mushroom Ravioli I’ve ever tasted, no exaggeration) a gorgeous little Italian opposite the Mayflower followed by Miss Saigon, one of the best shows I’ve seen at the Mayflower so far. More on that including lots of snaps here. (But here’s the dinner we had).

 

Thursday- Snow is falling… and some Gyros

On Thursday, Snowmageddon struck. I woke up to a white blanket covering everything. But our lunch plans with Jamie were to go ahead. We’ve been meaning to go for lunch for a long time and we were to try the Greek restaurant Lemoni, we wouldn’t let the snow ruin our plans.

I missed Greek food and I was seriously craving it for a while so I enjoyed my Gyro in Cypriot pitta to the point I’ve actually finished it. I rarely manage to but the cold and my cravings had something to do with it… We also shared a scrummy feta baked in Filo pastry sprinkled with honey and sesame seeds, Jamie loved it so much he wants to learn how to make it.

 

After lunch we were told we could go home. I could not believe it! I’ve been to Southampton for almost 8 years now, we were never sent home because of snow. It felt I was living somewhere in Siberia. It took me 20 minutes to walk back home because of inappropriate footwear, it’s a miracle how I didn’t fall on my face, but I weirdly enjoyed it. It felt like being in a fairytale.

I spent the rest of my afternoon catching up with my friends back home and I loved every minute.

 

What I didn’t expect was:

Friday Snowday… and being brave

Yes, the University was closed! So it was not safe to walk outside, it was freezing and I was to spend the day at home. Under other circumstances I wouldn’t mind at all. But because I couldn’t go out, I got cabin fever by the end of the day. The mind works in mysterious ways always wanting what it can’t have and undervaluing what it already has…

So what to do? I facetimed my little sis, I booked my ticket home in May (yeay) and then inspired by Donna’s gift I booked ticket and a gorgeous AirBnb in Bordeaux, MY FIRST EVER SOLO TRIP (double yeay!). I’m incredibly excited and a little scared but I cannot wait!

What I learned the last couple of weeks is that life is too short and I want to do more of the things I really want to but I’m scared of. And going on my first trip alone is the first step.

Saturday- Finally out

On Saturday I got up early for a change. I was desperate to get out of the house so I woke up at 9, did all the boring chores one must do to remain a semi-responsible adult and got out! I did my essentials shopping and I finally ordered new glasses, wait until you see ‘Smart looking Eleni’ with my fancy new reading glasses.

In the evening I did what I’ve been doing when I get some free time, binge watching Parks and Recreation, one of the best, funniest shows I’ve ever watched. Thank you to Jamie for recommending it and Sarah and Pat for all the fun we have talking about it.

Leslie Knope

Looking back, it’s been an incredible week.

Here’s to March, it’s looking good already…

Namaste

Eleni

PS. Happy birthday CHRIS!!!! Thank you for being an incredible friend and all round good egg x

 

Life, Death and Everything in Between

One of the very few things I vividly remember from my first year studying Psychology at the Uni back home was something my lecturer said that shocked me at the time.

‘You are the only one responsible for your mental wellbeing, you are the only one responsible for your feelings and actions, no matter what life throws at you, no matter how others treat you. Feeling sad or angry or happy is your fault, your responsibility.’

I could not understand why. How? If someone treated my badly, if a loved one died, why is it my fault I’m sad?

It took me years and years to fully comprehend it. It took me years to realise, as Lisa Fieldman Barret, a neuroscientist and psychologist beautifully stated in a TED Talk I recently watchedYour emotions are built, not built in‘, meaning you, or your brain to be more precise is the one controlling them, although it may feels impossible.

I co-incidentally watched a Youtube video of Will Smith explaining how what happens in your life and how others treat you it is not your fault, but how you respond is your responsibility. And that’s exactly it.

When you stop blaming others and get out of the ‘victim’ mentality everything suddenly changes. You are in charge, you are responsible. Scary, tough but liberating.

My week

I say that every week since the beginning of the year but last week felt like the longest week of the year so far.

It’s been incredibly busy at work, which I actually enjoy. I’ve learned a lot over the last couple of weeks, I met different people across the University, from students to lecturers to HR experts such as Geoff Glover whose experience is impressive to say the least.

I’m incredibly grateful and honoured he agreed to meet with me and chat over coffee. I’ve learned more in an hour that I learned in a month. I truly admire humble, talented humans who love sharing their knowledge and experience with everyone and don’t let arrogance and success blind them. Geoff is definitely one of them.

But not everyone is nice and getting into arguments it’s inevitable sometimes. I had some of those too this week.

After work I spent most of my evenings writing or catching up with messages and other things I needed to do with the exception of my magical evening at the John Hansard Gallery.

the Transformer

By the end of the week I was shuttered.

On Friday sad news of a friend friend’s death, our age, and one of my best friend’s dad’s death added to my mental and physical exhaustion.

I went to bed at 11pm on Friday. That rarely happens but I was so tired I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

I woke up early the next morning but I couldn’t get up. I messaged my best friend, my soul sister, my soulmate Happy Birthday telling her how I wished I was there to celebrate with her. And then I went back to sleep.

I stayed in bed until 2pm. I needed it. That meant I had to spend the rest of the weekend cleaning, tidying up, shopping, washing but I needed the break. I need a holiday and I can’t wait for my week off in March but for now that’s the best I could do.

It sucks when people lie to you, underestimate you or undervalue you. It sucks when your near and dear ones are ill, it sucks when they die. And it’s not your fault. Don’t you ever blame yourself. But you are the only one who can change things, you are the only one who can fix it. You are the only one who controls your feelings, your emotions, your actions.

Over the last three years I learned to take responsibility for my emotions and my mental wellbeing and even more importantly, I learned to control them. Not all the time but well enough not to beat myself up and fall back to depression.

Mrs Polikseni I get it now, it took me years but I get it.

Here’s to another week. No idea what it will bring, life is full of surprises lately, but whatever happens, enjoy every moment. Forget about dos and dont’s. Forget about anything that makes you unhappy, worried or anxious. Just live.

Every weekend I facetime my little sis and we chat and laugh for hours, catching up, talking about our week. Something so simple makes me so happy. It’s all about the little things.

I often ask myself…

‘If I die right now, how I want others to remember me?’ I want to be remembered as kind, caring, creative, always singing, a tad crazy, obsessed with food and Yoga With Adriene who made others smile and laugh.

‘If I die right now, what I want my last thoughts to be?’ I’m happy and blessed to have amazing, loving friends and family, I have a roof above my head and delicious food on my plate. I do my best to enjoy every single moment. I’m happy.

If I die right now, what would my biggest regrets be? This I struggle to answer but…

What most people dying, the single moment when the clarity of mind reaches extraordinary levels and you cannot but be honest to yourself wished for was that they worked less and spent more time making memories with their loved ones, enjoyed life more, expressed their feelings more and were happier and true to themselves.

Life is really too damn short. I’ve been reminded of it so many times I started to wonder if the universe is trying to tell me something…

Or maybe not…

Namaste

Eleni

PS Happy birthday to my little Prince. I promise I’ll teach you all I learned about life, death and everything in between.

“And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” 

My Little Prince