Yesterday evening, and for no explicable reason, I had a complete meltdown. When you suffer from the sort of depression I do, well, it does happen. On the most extreme days my mood can sink so quickly that I can be perfectly fine one minute (driven, motivated, energetic) and depressed the next.

In my case there is usually a trigger. It can be small, easy to overlook and seemingly meaningless in the great scheme of things. Later, in reflection, I can usually work out the trigger – when sanity returns that is.

Its no secret I suffer from moderate to severe depression. Some people are just wired that way. I try to avoid blogging about my battle with depression, I just do not see what can possibly be obtained from something which really is – for me – entirely self inflicted. Its not as though I am inclined towards eloquence during my episodes, in fact quite the contrary. Afterwards I would just prefer to put it all behind me and move on.

I pour all the bitterness and paranoia into a private journal and, to some extent, this works. It gives me somewhere to vent without losing the valuable friends I have somehow managed to acquire over the years. Despite protestations to the contrary I just do not believe that the majority would want to listen to my out pourings. I can´t even read these things inbetween episodes myself – so would wish listening to them on none but my worst enemy.

I´m just finding, of late, that there isn´t a great deal I like about myself. I had it pointed out to me that I am unbelievably hard on myself. Something I am incapable of denying because lets face it, its entirely true. I do set high standards for myself and largely fail to achieve them. I can create designs, paintings, sketches… I find myself constantly measuring myself up against my peers in design, in art … in life. Each and every time I find myself wanting. I´m not intelligent enough, artistic enough, pretty enough…

I´m not seeking a dozen people here trying to persuade me how wonderful I am, honestly (they do say when you do that, place honestly at the end of every statement, you are in fact not being entirely truthful). But in this event its true. No matter how people try and convince me otherwise I will always judge and find myself wanting, and until I do learn to come to terms with the events of the last few years, I have a feeling I always will.

To say the last nine years has flown is but a mere understatement. It feels, to a certain extent, as though they never happened. As if the memories were just implanted there by some twisted individual who just wanted to sit back and watch me squirm at the mere thought of them.

March 2001 I discovered Tinmanic. Inspired I began my own online blog, began a hobby which was to become an obsession and would, in its own way, lead to a completely different career. Good job really because, you know, that career in the equestrian industry was never going anywhere.

Through blogging I have met some of the most amazing people of my life. Some I lost some along the way, some remain in intermittent contact and a few precious individuals I am proud to regard as true friends.

I have had my trials over the course of the last few years, especially since relocating to a different country. I have felt lost and isolated in a country which, on the surface, is not unlike my own – yet, much deeper, is so completely alien. Monica touched on something in her recent post “Cultural differences and self  -protecting bullshit” that really struck a nerve with me, namely because she (once again) described something similar to my experiences – only this time it was in complete reverse. Unlike Monica, who moved from a tactile close country to a reserved one, I did exactly the opposite.

For all intents and purposes the people of the UK, with a few exceptions are far more reserved than many of their European counterparts. I did not really appreciate this until I actually went to live in one of these more exuberant countries – nor did I realise how uncomfortable it would make my life on occasion. I am, a fairly tactile person by normal English definition. I love kisses and hugs, I love being close to someone. I also enjoy my personal space and if I don´t know you, I´d rather you kept out of it without prior invitation. So you can imagine when moving to Spain where “dos besos” on greeting is the norm I was suddenly thrown into situations I found uncomfortable. Like Monica I rapidly began to feel isolated and alone, not because I lacked the hugs and kisses on greeting, but because I felt infringed upon and socially awkward – pretty soon I would avoid any form of social interaction because I felt so uncomfortable.

It passed. Now I can dos besos with the best of them. In fact I recently managed to upset some English friends because they decided I was “too familiar”, which made me chuckle.

We have such a wonderful diversity within Europe, and I do not believe we appreciate it enough. I had spent countless holidays abroad, and I didn´t realise how different each culture was until I was thrown in at the deep end of actually living there. A part of me adores living abroad, meeting people from other cultures – experiencing their world, their language…it challenges you to rethink so many things about yourself, your culture and the world around you.

I wish I had been able to access a computer during the first two years of living in Spain – at least more often. This was when I was confronted with the most challenges – lingustically and culturally. I would have loved to have shared these early experiences with you – but now it seems that time has past and they no longer are as fresh in my mind as they once were.

Nine years. Next year will be my tenth blogging anniversary. Amazing, an entire decade of writing absolute gibberish. Long may it continue.

As an atheist user of facebook I frequently receive messages from the fanatically religious. I´m seperating the fanatically religious apart from just the religious, since the latter do tend to (in my humble experience) leave people like myself in peace and accept not everyone shares their beliefs. The former, rather obviously, do not.

I can normally sign in to facebook and simply hit that charming delete button, effectively ridding myself of all the “trust in jesus” or “you´re going to hell” messages. But I am finding it harder and harder to do so without a snipey retort sent back in return.

I´m a little snippy on occasion. I admit it. I can also be a downright bitch too. I do try and be accepting and respect the beliefs of others, but its hard when the same respect is not offered in return. I mean, come on, what the fuck are these guys on? Do they get comission for how many atheists they can drag back into the fold?! Why the hell does it bother them so much that someone out there has opted to follow the path of humanism? I mean, if there turns out to be a god, and he sends me to hell, well, thats my problem isn´t it? I´m happy to weather the risks thank you very much.

Anyway, I digressing again. The reason I was so loathsome to hit the delete button this morning without a response was this – it was a rant blaming atheists for the increase in homosexuality, promiscuity, abortions… well pretty much all of the moral ills in this world. Bollocks. So, apparently, this “moral sickness” plaguing the world is a direct result to an increase in atheism. Goddamit.

I did respond. I couldn´t help it. The response I received was, well, it was not what I expected. All I asked was why all the hatred from a supposed man of christianity? I received a short, rather confusing non-answer.

“I just cannot stand the thought of men in bed together”

Say what? What the hell has that got to do with it? More importantly, why the hell does it bother them so much what others chose to do with their lives? If its consensual, if its not hurting anyone else, if its their choice why does it matter? If they cant stand the thought of it, I have a hint for them, just dont think about it. Simple huh?

I couldn´t care less what other people chose to do with their lives. I don´t care if  their deal is men, women, both or frigging sock puppets. If the sock puppet is capable of giving consent then by all means, go for it.

Why are some people so bothered by what others do? I just dont understand the fascination or revulsion.

Seems to be they could do to spend more time living their own lives and less time contemplating what others chose to do with theirs.

</rant>

I´ve been calling by Clients From Hell a lot recently. It makes fascinating reading and, somehow, it does work to lessen the impact of my own client inflicted scars.

I have had my fair share over the years. The ones who thought designing a website was akin to writing a document in Word. The one who considered because I had designed his site once I was contracted to edit, maintain and upgrade the design for the rest of my life (free of charge).

Most recently however the clients from hell have been found during my part time occupation in technical support. Its seems that no matter how much you do for some people it simply is never enough. It also makes me realise what a argumentative inconsiderate customer I have been myself in the past. Seeing it from the other side definitely opens up your eyes.

Today a client accused me of causing his site to develop a php memory allocation error. Seemingly on purpose? He declared because he had never seen it before therefore it must have been caused by me.  I have no idea why I would do this, maybe to prolong the delight of having my support ticket inbox full of messages just from him. That must be it. Its not the 30+ plugins he has installed, or the server thats so slow I could eat a three course meal and dunk a biscuit in the time it takes the control panel to refresh. Nah, its the poor TSO that is allocated the job of trying to assist him getting a plugin up and running .

</rant>

I woke up this morning (prematurely thanks to amarous neighbours) full of the joys of spring. It might not actually be spring yet, but I can feel it approaching and thats all that matters.

The only problem is I am just not feeling inclined to do any work. I completed a server transfer this morning. But even though my bank balance calls me immediately to station, my head and hands refuse to enter work mode. At some point today I will have to force myself because I have some really fascinating projects in progress.

1. Intranet powered by Wordpress – including user integration with Active Directory, category specific stylesheets, a role manager facility which either allows or prevents users to post on certain categories, user modification and comment file upload facility
2. Completion of website for well known Italian Sculptress
3. Site for Topical Tuesday winner “Kerri´s Klutter”
4. Then there are my personal projects which I am keeping firmly under wraps until completed.

Its great fun, albeit exceptionally challenging at times. I will admit to a little “blagging” at times in order to win these contracts but, in my favour, I do know Wordpress exceptionally well. So, I never blag unless I know full well there is probably a way to do it, I just have to find it!

One of the reasons I am enjoying doing the intranet site so much is because it is for a well known design company based in Madrid. Thats right, after almost three years in the country I am finally landing work in Spain. Just after I made plans to save up and leave. Typical! A further challenge is that I am having to work on this site in Spanish – sure the code is the same in every language, but there has been some challenging moments.

“What the hell is that error message supposed to mean?!”

We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are.” — Anaïs Nin

During the course of the last month my long awaited success in design has really started. I do not believe I will ever win any awards for my work but, for me, a happy client is more than enough justification for what I do. That and a decent enough pay cheque for which to pay my bills and my outstanding debts. The secret to my final success was signing up with ODesk and, although criticised by a great many of our so-called profressionals, it works for me.

But this post has already started to wander off in the direction not intended. This was never going to be an entry justifiying my obsession with ODesk. Well, you caught me, it has no real purpose. I just wanted to write something, anything, in my blog.

Yesterday, when I found out my site had been hacked, I felt violated. Intruded upon.  Sometime, during the course of the last week, someone stepped into personal space and used it for defrauding others. I cannot believe, as someone who works in this field, that I had left myself open to such an attack.

As a result of this attack I had to delete and reinstall everything. I finally transferred over the remnants of the old fembat unhinged – the bits I deemed marginally worthy of saving and deleted the rest. To be fair, not a great deal was saved. Shameful. The odd smattering of red links in nine years of black type.

Blogging has always been about connecting with others. A paradox for someone who, in real life at least, is actually fairly insular. I find it easier to communicate, to show my true colours as it were to people on the internet. I do not find it quite so easy in the outside world, not anymore. During the course of the last few years, at some point, I began to follow the family line. I can see it happening, bit further on I´ll be the mad old lady shunning the world in favour of cats, dogs and dinners for one.

Angry, Cynical? When did this happen to me?

I remember the girl that was. The giggling teen who was open and friendly, who had patience and understanding.

Where did she go? Why was she suddenly replaced with a cynical thirty-something who can no longer control her temper? Self involved?

A few months ago I declared I was going to start afresh. It hasn´t happened. But maybe it is time it did before I really do become that old woman who batters people with her walking stick.

I´ll just have to keep annoying Poe, Colin, Sarah and whoever else can stand the pain of a friend like me for a bit longer yet! Just for the record, you know I love you guys right? I just dont really understand why you like me!

</miseries>

I was waiting for this. The thorn in a short period of relative quiet.

It appears that your website http://www.fembat.me/ has been hacked by a fraudster. It is now hosting a phishing attack against Lloyds Bank.

Please remove the fraudulent folders/files as soon as possible and secure your website as it has been compromised.
Please note that it is possible that the fraudulent content is embedded in your website’s legitimate files.

online.lloydstsb.co.uk/customer.ibcWT.ac=IBPLO0809/

In addition, please send us any source files of the attack.
Please let us know if you have any questions or need further assistance. We appreciate your cooperation.

Update:

• Found significant evidence of phishing on my site  – HBSC & LLoyds.
• Discovered an email address they had set up hofori@fembat.me
• Found a page linking to a furniture store in Indonesia ?
• Found IP address – Ghana (there´s a surprise)

All this happened because I was just too busy to take much notice of fembat. Where have I been this month?!

I am breaking my code today. I am so tired of hearing about Valentines Day – the one day of year which features commercialised romance, wilting flowers and lack lustre performances of love and adoration.

For some.

This morning I awoke in my new apartment to the sharp reminder as to why I am still single. Do you know what that sound was?

A women begging her partner to leave her alone. Screaming. Shouting. The tell tale signs of Domestic Violence.

I´ve been there. My mothers been there.

When all fell eeringly quiet but for the faint sobbing of a broken woman I felt a selfish sense of relief. The memories of my own experiences eased and I could begin work. During the course of the day my feelings of guilt crept into the limelight, the selfish betrayal of another woman in need. Two years ago that could have been me. Forty years ago that could have been my mother.

Happy Valentines Day. I´ll stick to my small box apartment, eat my Pizza and watch my movie.

This post was inspired by Topic 32 from Topical Tuesday´s My Year Competition Challenge. I will not be entering of course, because I can design a site for myself anytime.

Then I was invited to spend a few months living in the Findhorn Community in Scotland. It was a life changing experience. I discovered my passion for the Environment, which in turn lead me to discover GeoSciences.

For a long time I have held the ambition to live abroad. This came to fruition in the latter part of the decade. I found my beatiful but now OAP horse a new home with a really nice lady, packed my bags, and left for pastures new. I had some knowledge of the language and, unlike most Brits who relocate abroad, I had plans to master the language. Especially when I rapidly discovered I had seriously over-estimated my capabilities.

The next few years were plagued with problems – financial, personal, cultural… Good times were had though. I met some interesting people, I ate some seriously awesome local cuisine, and I spouted off to my hearts content about Brits who failed to mindle with locals. I mingled, a little too well on occasion I believe.

In 2008 I added domestic violence to my list of experiences. I also miscarried twins, quite far into the pregnancy. I pulled through although I am still battling to keep the gentleman in question out of my life. It seems he doesn´t concider domestic violence a cause to end a relationship.

2009 saw me once again return to website design and, finally, I am making a go of it – helped significantly by a far more profressional attitude to my work. I am developing a loyal clientbase and am now helping those who are not technically minded run and maintain their blogs without having to worry about updating, upgrading, backups or error messages. I deal with all that so they dont have. Its quite fun actually. In fact my blog maintenance clients are taking over my schedule by a significant margin!

So, I have looked back. What about looking forward? For the new decade I have some serious plans. Not only do I plan to return to UK, probably Southern England, but I also plan to try and find work in a design studio. I´d love to broadan my horizons and develop my skills. Even if that means a tiny wage.

I would also like to further my interest in Geo & Environmental Sciences.

Thats it for me. If you´d like to consider taking part in the current competition challenge take a look at Topical Tuesday.

This post was inspired by Topic 32 from Topical Tuesday´s My Year Competition Challenge. I will not be entering of course, because I can design a site for myself anytime.

As I wrote my entry yesterday I realised just important my archives are to me. I had previously deleted them, in a mad symbolic gesture to mean I was moving on and leaving the past behind. But the past defines who I am today, and to a certain extent I will never leave that behind. So, I am returning the archives gradually, but only the select entries that I still have tucked away.

Yesterday I left off where I mentioned the significance of animals in my life. I have always loved animals, and I love nothing better than to sit and watch Nature Programmes, Steve Irwins old programs… The bio-diversity on planet Earth fascinates me. We live on such an amazing planet, don´t you think?

My love of animals lead me to become Vegetarian again in 2001, and eventually to follow through and become Vegan in 2002. The only problem is, despite researching diet and nutrition more thoroughly than I had done since my last attempt (at 14) I once again became severely anaemic. In the end I was forced to abandon my attempt and return to the land of guilt ridden meat eating. I have ethical issues with the idea of eating meat, no matter how natural to the human condition it appears to be. This is worsened by knowledge and experience of working with animals, and knowing just how poor the actual meat production process is. At the moment I try to only eat organic ethically produced items, but I know that once I return to the UK I will probably return to Veganism once again. I generally try to avoid drinking milk anyway, and prefer to drink Oat/Rice or Soya Milk. I do love Cheese however, especially Feta, and Vegan Cheese never quite lives up to expectations!!

January 2003 started off really well. I broke my leg on the 25th January 2003. I´ve survived more falls off horses than I can count, usually without injury (though admitedly with some painful repercusions). My broken leg, rather ironically, was a result of climbing down from a stack of straw. How humilating. The coming few months were a nightmare as Mum and I struggled to look after two highly strung horses with little or no help from family, friends or fellow owners.

Late October 2003 see me returning to university yet again in a vague attempt to complete my History degree. Only years later do I realise the reason I cannot complete it is because I´m not all that interested. I love to read about the past, especially Medieval History, but to study the subject is a different ball game entirely. By this time I have already been to four universities and frequent utterings of  “She has the intellect to go far, but lacks the commitment to complete” start to appear in reports.  Most recently I realised that the only reason I chose to study History was becase a lecturer told me I had a talent for it, and so I steam rollered ahead and chose that subject to pursue to university. Its a self-fulfilling prophecy of its own kind, gone wrong. I did have a talent for it, I can waffle extremely well in Historical babble. I just don´t enjoy doing so, and ask any of my friends and they will tell you. Eliza has a very short attention span.

So I never completed that History Degree. I had my Equine Science one completed of course,  which is really worth the paper its written on, really…

I played at formalising my qualifications in Website Design & Interactive Media, eventually finishing by doing it part-time.

I´ve found my niche now however, but I will discuss this in Part III.

In 2004 my Mum was d¡agnosed with Breast Cancer and I had a breakdown resulting in three months in Hospital. 2004 was hard to endure. When the cancer treatment was over I, well, I brokedown. I spent Christmas 2004 and New Year 2005 in Hospital. I was suffering from severe depression, and for a while at least, various Doctors debated diagnosing Bipolar. I lost a lot at that time. I had been working in design for sometime, I had built up a steady income from design and hosting. I lost nearly all of it because there was no one there to pick up the pieces when I was incapable. For a while at least I also felt I had lost most of my friends.

During this Sam, one of the Jack Russel´s we bought in 2004, was given away to a new Mum. Jezebel was sold on. Both with my consent.

The next five years was spent piecing all that back together. Depression would return, but this time in moderation and I could cope.

Thats it for Part II. Part III tomorrow.