It's all me, me, me...

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Vivre Sa Vie
London, United Kingdom
Well hello there. My name is Viv (well, it's not really), and, like a lot of people, I'm ever so slightly neurotic... I have panic attacks and anxiety (ranging from mild to pretty intense), on and off. I also have an amazing and quite high-profile job, so I'm choosing to remain anonymous on here. Not because I'm ashamed of the aforementioned neuroses, but because I don't want to be googled and for my colleagues to read bizarre posts about me breathing into a paper bag and popping lorazepam. I've worked for bookshops, mixed arts festivals and charities, and have met (and still meet!) a lot of famous, fetching and fantabulous people for my job. (See, anxiety doesn't need to stop you being AWESOME and doing what you want to do) Here's hoping you'll find some helpful hints and tips on here which will help you tackle the evil panic heebiejeebs... PS. I'm an Australian, but I live in the UK, and have adopted tea-drinking, pubs, Wodehouse, and a Welsh man.
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Monday, 30 April 2012

Guess what? I think I'm a monk now!

Buddha's schnoops really needed a mansierre.

STOP PRESS. I've just got back from a meditation at the Buddhist centre and feel BLISSFULLY CALM. Honestly. This isn't a hoax. I pretty much floated out of there, and started noticing all the bright colours of the flowers and the blue of the ocean and the silky breeze on my face - I feel like Mr Burns looked when he went all radioactive and glided (glid?) across the forest floor with big googly eyes and floaty arms.

I'm not worried about anything. Seriously. I'm not afraid of the future. It even occurred to me that if there was an axe murderer in my house (well, I'm not completely CURED or anything) that I would welcome death like a beatific, zen monk who had lived a happy life with the yaks (do they hang out with yaks? I'm not sure if we ever established that).

I cannot believe my body has created this. This is insane. I need to write this down because I will never believe it otherwise. I will think I imagined it in a fit of anxious insanity.

I even bought a gluten-free carrot and lentil loaf from their cafe (it's still 1975 in this - and probably all - Buddhist cafes) to celebrate my floatiness and new-found guru-ishness. It came with a rice salad, but it has RAISINS in it. Why must hippies do that? They've cornered the whole 'peace' thing, but they just go and ruin it by putting sweet dried fruit in a savoury dish.

Oh my God. I have literally just found some bits of dried apricot in there too. Now that's just SICK. But I'm that peaceful that I don't even care.

Guys, do you know what this means? This means there's hope for all of us! This means maybe the hippies were right! This means maybe we can find peace that's not pill-shaped! There aren't enough exclamation marks in the world to contain my shock at this buddha-shaped development! Maybe my hippy mother was right all along!  

Now THAT, ladies and gentleman - is crazy.

Actually, so does she...


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