I remember at school once being told to...

...blow my own trumpet. Now how on earth was I supposed to do that? I've just been reading CLP's blog with all the messages of support for Gazza, and one near the end (as I read just now) said this:

"It may not be the cause for his troubles, but one of the contributory factors must be our country's inability to applaud success. From school age when we're told not to brag about winning, through to adulthood when we're not allowed to 'blow our own trumpet'.

"The tabloid press embody this way of thinking - all too keen to pounce on anyone with any amount of success and rake some dirt or fabricate some damaging story. And what makes it worse - this rubbish sells newspapers." (PeeBee on CLP, 22nd Feb)

I remember one day in secondary school our lesson in PSHE was about writing your Personal Statement to go in your Record of Achievement (do they still exist?). We were encouraged to "blow our own trumpet" for the main reason that nobody else will blow it for you. I had no idea how to blow my own trumpet. I'd learnt not to brag, I'd learnt to play down my achievements, I'd no idea of the achievements of others so I had nothing to aim for to compete with until the completion of an achievement was announced at which point I'd think, I could have done that, how come I didn't know about that?

We had to give our testimony the other day in the Joining In course we're doing with church, and I know I'm hopeless at the moment at giving my testimony. I am just hopeless at talking about myself and my past, unless I'm sat at a keyboard and can write and delete and write some more and edit heavily. Probably I should've done exactly that, and brought my script with me to the course but I didn't. I'd heard a testimony the previous week and it had inspired me because the person hadn't talked much about their life BC, although they had told us where they were from and their brief life history. They focussed on their life since being saved. Now usually, when I am asked to give my testimony, I say much the same thing and talk about a point in my life which was pretty low and talk about how God pulled me through. But this time I just didn't was to focus on that at all - it wasn't something I wanted to dwell on or re-visit. It's not that I want to start fresh here, it's just that I feel that I've moved on and at some point in the future I will be able to incorporate that period much more succinctly into my testimony.

Anyway, I babbled. I babbled and skipped and hopped here there and everywhere and so still nobody really has any idea of who I am. I am just hopeless at telling people about my past, my achievements and what I can do. Maybe I fear being shot down. Maybe I fear being asked to do something based on what I've said, only to discover that I'm not as good as I thought I was. I think that's my main fear. Not being as good as I thought I was. I think that fear is something that holds me back at lot of the time and perhaps now I've properly identified it I can start to work at solving it and getting fixed.

Actually, now that I think about it, I'm thinking that maybe the reason that my memory is so shocking and why it takes so long for me to remember what I did the other day whenever anybody asks me, stems from this inability to tell people about myself. I suppose that keeping a blog - a journal that, theoretically, anybody in the world could read if they wanted - is a small step towards telling people about myself. But it's all so current. Maybe I'll attempt to write my testimony - my life story, concisely - again one day.

Well I wasn't going to but....

...then, somehow I was in the car on the way to the gym.

The thing is, I gave myself the "gym" amount of insulin this morning (less, because exercise does a great job of reducing blood sugar levels) and then, ten minutes before it got to the appointed time to go to the class, I thought, "I don't feel like going. I hurt too much from yesterday." Then somehow I was in the car (I was late, ok) and was on my way. Not entirely sure how that happened.

But it was good. I went to "Body Balance" today, which is some mix of yoga and pilates and tai chi, and the last time I did the class (I've only done it once before) I wobbled and overbalanced quite a lot. I have such a pathetic sense of balance! Today it wasn't so bad. I'm determined to learn how to balance, I guess it's something you learn and most people learn it as they go from birth kind of thing. I'm pretty good at staying upright but I do have a tendency to fall into walls and doors and anything else really. But once I can balance, then maybe I'll be less scared of downhill skiing, and cycling downhill, and running downhill, and basically doing anything that involves going downhill.

See I can DO going uphill, even if it kills me, but it's the getting downhill that I have issues with.

Pushing on to receive the prize...

Did myself a mischief at the gym last week. I've been having physio for my shoulders, to try and teach them the correct way to exist, and one of the exercises that I did last Thursday hurt while I was doing it. Hurt in a not-good way. Really, I should've stopped and said that I didn't think I should be doing that exercise, but sadly I'm quite proud and refuse to give in when somebody's set me a task like that. Anyway the upshot was that I couldn't go to the gym on Friday due to extreme discomfort, and Saturday and Sunday weren't much better. I was going to go for a class on Monday for some pilates/yoga/stretching thing, but although I can cope with the humiliation of falling over because my sense of balance is sadly lacking, I decided to give it a miss because my usual range of movements in the shoulder/arm department was still way below normal.

I missed going to the gym. I moped all day Monday, and decided that I really needed to go yesterday just to beat the blues. Couldn't do much - did maybe half my programme, and felt absolutely shattered afterwards. Today however, I am feeling so proud of myself. I did a good set. I hate the cross-ramp thing with a passion because it makes me work so hard, and today I nearly gave up halfway through the set. But I pushed on - and discovered that if I push past that "do I give up?" point, I could finish the set and not have to stop feeling sick just before the end!!! I was SO proud of my effort. Then I discovered the changing rooms were "closed" for cleaning - so now what am I supposed to do??! Ah well, might as well complete the programme....

It's evolving, I'm telling you.

It's been a while since the last blog, but since then a lot seems to have happened. I made the transition onto insulin the day after the last blog, and have been amazed by how easily my mind has accustomed itself to me stabbing myself twice a day for the insulin. I still hate the finger-pricking blood testing, but that is a necessary evil which I will just have to live with until I die or am healed, whichever happens first.

The babyfever evolved though. After New Year, when we stopped stopping babies from happening, the broodiness changed from the desperation that comes from not being allowed to try at all, to a crazed checking of my belly every morning. Babies were no longer off-limits, small children made me smile instead of cry, and sex had reason again. And then, as suddenly as my hormones went insane, they just vanished. Well, not exactly vanished, but there was suddenly no babyfever, no broodiness. I was me again. It has been a very nice month, thankyouverymuch. No demented hormones dragging me this way and that way and all over the place.

In hindsight I think I was daft to think that this perfect balance would last. It's only half-way through February and already the babyfever has evolved once more with the arrival of my period last month. Now I feel like I will be crushed if my period arrives this month although I'm really trying not to think about it, in the hope that if I don't think about it I won't mind so much. I suspect this isn't going to work though.


Ah well. Raise your glass with me, if you would, if you're not already pregnant that is (although feel free to use a substitute red liquid and join in my toast):

Here's to bunnies.