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March 27, 2017 9:58 am

 

PROBLOGUE:

 

If you read the title of this blog, quickly and at a glance you will think this blog is about Aids. But if you pause, take it in, and don’t jump to conclusions you will see that this blog is saying hello to positivity. It’s symbolic; something might seem bad at first, but on closer inspection, with time, if you really read what you’re seeing, that negative feeling will fade and will be replaced with warm and fuzzy feelings. This is exactly the way I reacted when I met my boyfriend. Hated him at first sight, thought he was trouble then got to know him and realised he’s actually alright. 

 

I’ve always thought of myself as a naturally optimistic person because my blood type is B Positive but this week I realised that I have a tendency to catastrophise. (Not sure if this is an actual word but Sharon Morgan if you’re reading this, consider it as a possible title for a future spin off show with Rob Delayney).

 

What I mean by ‘catastrophise’, which by the way has to be said wide eyed, with Jazz Hands, is, I always imagine the worst case scenario, prepare for it and then be pleasantly surprised when it doesn’t happen. Nothing is ever as bad as how I picture stuff in my head. For example after Brexit I thought the apocalypse doth be a coming, so I built an Anderson shelter in my garden, stole a gas mask from the Imperial War Museum and stocked up on tins of tuna from Lidl (let’s face it guys, German company Lidl won’t be around apres article 50). Turns out my catatrophising was all in vain. Brexit ain’t so bad! I mean now that the dust has settled it’s really totally manageable. Some might say, positive. I mean how can it be this awful, terrible, painful thing that Twitter makes it out to be when my mate told me that she asked her boyfriend to Hard Brexit her in bed the other day?

 

Apparently it’s the latest sexual fetish. A Hard Brexit in bed is when your partner exits you slowly and awkwardly whilst you cry and call him a racist. It’s a bit 50 Shades you see. And so, I figure Brexit cant be a bad thing if they’re naming sex acts after it.

After all, sex acts are named after nice things. E.g. Tea bagging (who doesn’t bloody love a cup of tea), soggy biscuit (who doesn’t bloody love a biccie), dogging (who doesn’t bloody love a doggie?) You get the picture. My point is that I thought Brexit was going to be this total Katy Hopkinsy disaster when really it’s just a mild Jeremy Clarkson slap in the face. It seems to be not dissimilar to unsubscribing from a lot of mailing lists or changing gas companies. Mildly fiddly and irritating yet nothing like the sheer terror and mania I foresaw.

 

I’ve always thought that being over dramatic about impending change is a good thing, because it means I am never disappointed. I’m most often relieved when the change I fear actually materialises. *drops gas mask back at Imperial War Museum and smiles pensively at the camera in the style of Flea Bag actress Pheobe Waller-Bridge. But it does mean in the lead up to something I envision pandemonium manifested in what I like to call the six d’s- drama, destruction, devastation, death and the ultimate disaster scenario: Donald Trump and/or One Direction. Those bunch of pussy grabbers can do one.

I have no interest in One direction ever since Zayn Malik left and no interest in Donald Trump ever since Barack left. Without Zayn and Barack they’re just 5 middle class rich white men trying to run the world. What good has ever came of a lack of Intersectionality? They might as well be a comedy panel show circa 2004. Or the Oscar nomination board.

 

But back to the word I made up: catastrophising.

I live by the mantra of ‘if anything can go wrong it will go wrong’ and so I am always prepared for the worst. I’m like a Scout only without the bed wetting and soggy biscuit. (Call back).

 

However, this week something changed within me. Like spiritually. I read the great book. The iconic scriptures. The Gospel. No I don’t mean The Bible or the Quran or The Torah, or Ricky Gervais’ autobiography. No! I read The Secret. And it’s like, totally changing my life. if you don’t know what The Secret is, it’s the self-help book which tells you how to get anything you want. It’s like the female version of Neil Strauss’ The Game. No, that’s a joke. I mean can you imagine if there was a female version of The Game? How women can get laid? Very similar actually, instead of reading The Game, you, well you just, er, go on The Game. Which reminds me when I was single I used to love going on dates and then half way through the date casually slip into conversation that I’d read The Game. And watch them silently freak out, slowly removing their peacocking trilby and sparkly gold ear ring whilst their tactical negging started to become just plain begging.

 

But like The Game, The Secret is a self-help book. How it’s different to The Game is that it doesn’t advocate misogynistic behaviour. Instead it works on the theory of positive thinking and the idea that the energy of positive thinking creates positive outcomes. It urges us to ask the universe for things and to usher away negative thoughts via meditation.

 

So I have started trying to do all this.  It’s hard for me to think positive all the time because I’m a woman and I get PMS a couple of times a month, but I’ve totally nailed the meditation part. it Turns out I’m really good at meditating. I meditate up to 8- 10 hours a day if I can, on weekends sometimes longer. It makes me feel refreshed; it balances my Shaka Khan (something like that) and helps me feel more in tune with The Universe. I never knew the power of meditation before. It’s a lot easier than I thought too. All I needed was some Night Nurse and a bottle of Rioja. Yeah, meditation is the best. So restorative.

What The Secret also harps on about is how our whole lives are manifested from our thoughts and our feelings. Think about it, where you are today, right now is all created from your thoughts.

 

The Secret says that having negative thoughts will bring negative things so I am now trying to re- learn how to think. ‘I think therefore I am’ is starting to bring new truths to me. If all your thinking is bad thoughts you will be surrounded with bad things and bad people and you will be bad but like, not in a cool way like Michael Jackson pre sex offence accusations but in a horrible way like Michael Jackson apres sex offence accusations.

So now all I’m thinking about all day is being Jon Hamm’s girlfriend. I think therefore I am… Jon Hamm’s girlfriend.

 

The Secret really got me thinking about my levels of positivity. I said at the start of this that I thought I was an optimistic person but then I backtracked and said I catatrophise. What I mean is that my general disposition is cheery to the outside eye. I am upbeat and positive in personality. I mean, I’m a hoot. Life and soul. I come across as a glass half full kinda gal. To quote a Facebook meme I once saw on my timeline, ‘I’m a glass half full Kinda girl….. as long as that glass is full of wine’. Because I’m an alcoholic. Its ok, I’ve been sober for 14 years. I mean, I’m not sober right now. I mean I was sober from birth to the age of 14. See how positive I can be about my drinking problem? Putting an upbeat spin on negative topics, polishing a turd so to speak.

 

Yet whilst having this Mary Poppins cheery disposition, deep inside myself I am plagued with an infinite amount of deadly dark thoughts which rattle my mind forever more! I hear the owls cry and the crickets creek if you wanna get all Shakespearean/ Lady Macbethy about it. How else can I put it? In layman terms ‘I see dead people’. I think and fear the worst at every moment of the day. I’m like a female Jon Richardson. Without the meticulously high levels of hygiene.

 

I know this isn’t good. I’m from the Beyoncé generation. I want to be a Warrior not a worrier. (Said this on stage last night, they didn’t get it, I think it may only work written down).

Maybe I’m being dramatic and maybe the very notion of writing  about my fear of catastrophising everything in my life is, well, catastophising.

The truth is I’m trying very hard to nip my negative thoughts in the bud. For example, now when I see the black dog of depression, I try and imagine its a cute little puppy dog, and its little tail is wagging. And I do, really really love doggies as I said when I was mentioned dogging. (Call back).

 

I think one of the reasons why I have a tendency to think negatively and to think the worse is because I don’t want to be disappointed.

For example, I do not believe in God is because I don’t want to get my hopes up. I’m managing my expectations. How annoying will it be if I go my whole life believing in God and looking forward to meeting him only to find out that all that awaits me at the pearly gates is a Morgan freeman recorded voice over. Or worse. Absolutely sod all. Like that time I got stood up on a Tinder date.

I thought I was going to meet The One. And he didn’t even exist. Oh dear, What happens if God is cat fishing us all? He’s not an old man with a beard, he’s actually a 13 year old school girl?!

Not spending my whole life waiting around for ‘The One’. I don’t need ‘Him’ to save me. I am an independent woman, and that’s why am Atheist. Because I think the worst all the time.

But The Secret is changing me. I’m getting radicalised. I don’t mean I’m going to throw out all my Richard Dawkins literature and start believing in God. But I am going to start believing in Good. Good things, positivity, nice stuff, glasses half full of great fun and lovely things and shit. Hell! Snowflakes and roses and whiskers on kittens and all the stuff that Julie Andrews prattles on about whilst under a Nazi regime.  I urge you to do the same because, I don’t mean to get all existentialist on your asse but life is too short and potentially ultimately meaningless to waste time worrying and thinking the worst all the time. So next time someone says to you ‘we need to talk’ don’t presume you’re getting dumped, think ah that’s nice they want to talk to me! Or next time someone says ‘you look healthy’ don’t think it’s because you’ve put on weight, think ‘oh I must be glowing and radiant’ or next time someone tells you to go fuck yourself, think ‘ah that’s nice they want me to go and give myself pleasure, how sweet of them!’

After all days are getting longer and summer is on the horizon so put on your rose tinted glasses and shield yourself from the harmful effects of The Sun.