Welcome

Hi there

Come in, take a seat, make yourself comfortable.

I’m Ash, and this is where I share my story. My truth.

It’s hilarious, enlightening, awesome real. That’s about it. No filtering here. The honest reality of being me, a 20 something mum coping with ups and downs. Includes my shitty medical stuff (C-word) my (now sadly limited) sex-life, disintegrating marriage and some mental health issues. So check your judgement at the door, please

Also the joy of raising my son, updates on my novel, our menagerie, the fun we have living in a fishing shack and homeschooling. I prefer coffee to tea, winter to summer, long hair to short (or bald ) and dogs to cats.

I appreciate every visitor, even if you were looking for something…different…

Hope you hang around!

Ashx

Now the page is no longer blank.

Someone told me to write that once, when I’ve got writer’s block.

I think it’s worked.

Thankyou to the few people who read here and emailed me to see if I’m ok…I appreciate that more than you know. I swear, you meet the nicest people blogging

It’s Sunday morning here, the sky is blue, it’s one of those gorgeous cool but sunny days. I woke up next to someone who’s not my cat, and who makes great coffee. Someone who kissed the bruising on my hands and wrists, and ran soft hands over my scar tissue skin.

We made toast and listened to U2, I’m not broke, but you can see the cracks.

Everything is temporary, but I’ll take it. Life is temporary, and mine might be a little more temporary than I was expecting, and that’s ok.

Right now, everything is ok

-deep breaths-

There are no happy endings, it’s about being here while you are. Mindfulness is about the only thing helping me right now. And noticing absolutely everything keeps me out of my own head so much, and reminds me of how special this life can be.

x

Yet another post I can’t title

Sorry.

I know no-one really wants to read this shit.

But I can’t talk about it, so this is what I have. Where I have.

I’m depressed.

It’s normal to be depressed. It’s a side effect of treatment. Probably also a side effect of feeling like your future is being ripped away, like you don’t want to die, but don’t want to live like this either. Balancing painkillers with productivity is hard. Trying to be strong for Bailey is hard. Making decisions about treatment and if I should send him to school and should we move back next year or sell horses but he wants his pony and I can’t see him lose one more thing is really motherfucking hard.

So I just try and try and try, because of one little boy who is unlucky enough to have me as the centre of his world, and try not to think too much, because it forces me out of that dark numbing depression but into something worse. Its the reminders that the stupid dog has his life more together than I do, that I have 3 horses that I can’t bear to sell, and can’t bear the stress of keeping.

It’s the ‘you might die, and what about him?’, feeling Craig’s desperation as he hugs me on Mother’s Day, every second person telling me about someone who’s dying or dead from cancer, ‘but that won’t happen to you’.

The aching, chills and hot flushes and feeling like 80% of my skin is covered in newly sensitive scar tissue.

I’ll take my numb bubble, for now.

Except my mind won’t let me.

It keeps forcing it’s way out, like it’s bubbling over and I just want to scream at it to leave me alone because I can cope this way.

I know this isn’t how I’ve really been feeling lately, I can read back here and see that, and the way I’m swinging like a pendulum scares me in an abstract, removed, clinical kind of way.

I see myself from the outside, joking and smiling, making breakfast, reading with Bailey and it almost confuses me. Talking to friends, them saying ‘you can cry anytime’…I couldn’t if I wanted to.  I’d love to.

You know it’s fucked when having a cry because you have cancer seems like an unattainable goal.

I’d love to go and ride, dance with my son, skip along the beach and try and shake this ‘nothing…now screaming anxiety….more nothing….PAIN’ cycle but every. part. of my body. hurts.

This is the part where I have a miracle remission, find Jesus, and meet the most wonderful man in the world, right?

x

 

 

Just A Really Quick Note

to say I’m starting a new treatment tomorrow…today, actually, it’s 12:45 am, I can’t sleep.

Basically some stem cells get taken from me…they get frozen. When they have a little bank of them, I have some high dose medication (a different type of chemo, and something else). Then they put them back, to help repair some of the damage to my body.

Honestly, when he talked to me about it…I wasn’t keen. But I can understand the logic, and know that since I really want to best chance I’m lucky to have this available to me – and that I respond to it  (apparently it’s not a common treatment here). I think of being like a garden, it’s really hard to go and spray every individual weed…sometimes places get so infected, it’s easier and more effective to poison the lot, then replant the stuff you want to grow .

x

Other People’s Husbands

This is something I’ve wanted to write about for awhile. Of course I mean absolutely no offense and I know there are plenty of genuine family men out there who wouldn’t dream of straying. I’m sure there are also single men with morals and standards (call me)…I just haven’t met heaps of either lately.

*****

Being single can be hard. It was hard last year, being the new mum in a small school community, from the next (also small) town. Single mums are the furthest thing from a rarity here, and despite what that says about the socio-economic structure, I’m enjoying it. When I lived ‘up the hill’ it was a rarity. I was a rarity. I was naïve enough to think it wouldn’t matter, because it wouldn’t matter to me.

I shouldn’t feel like I have to defend myself but I do. So here’s the disclaimer. I know that fairly often, when I have guy problems, some of the problem is me. I am far from a man-hater. I’ve been in a really bad head-space and at times I’ve unwittingly made people suffer along with me. Here, here, and here. Bad decisions, not being clear on how ill-equipped I really truly was for a relationship because I enjoy the fun parts, letting a nice guy try to talk me around. Not fair. Not nice. Not who I am inside.

However, in these instances I really didn’t do a thing. If a man is attached, to me, he’s unavailable. That’s it. It’s not worth the drama, and causing someone else pain. Sure, he’ll probably do it anyway. Not with me he won’t.

Yeah, I had some problems with other people’s husbands.

And I’m feeling ashamed writing this.

I just, don’t understand, I guess. One incident, which I could write pages on, was (still is, amazingly) one of my closest friends’ husbands… I mean we were all friends, to the point of him talking about how his kids from his first marriage are so close in age to me, that it felt like I was ‘another one of the kids’.

After, I was just like ‘Why? How could you? She’s in the next room. She’s gorgeous and she trusts you.’

And when she asked me to tell her the truth, I did mostly and it just sucked so bad.

That was after it dragged out for about a week, honestly one of the worst weeks of my life, with the he said, she said, wanting to vomit at every school run.

It’s really hard to be social with other mums, without getting to know their husbands. And more than once when I’ve chatted about this (without using specifics about what happened with who), one of my gorgeous friends has been like ‘Yeah, you have to be so careful. It’s not fair. You’d be totally fine with my hubby though’ with such assurance, and my heart has broken for her when it’s turned out that he’s not worthy of her level of trust.

Do men think that because I’m single it doesn’t count or something?

I know socially I can be funny and bright and helpful. But I don’t flirt with my friends partners, I wouldn’t even sit next to them. Does smiling and saying hi to someone constitute an invitation to be groped next time I pass him alone on my way to the bathroom? Does him pouring me a wine give him the right to ask me about ‘a bit of quiet fun’ next time we’re alone in the school carpark?

And you know what, if a man is committed it shouldn’t matter what I do or don’t do.

I’d be lying if I said this didn’t contribute to my decision to cocoon up in my hometown for this year.

I’m complicated. For anyone who’s been reading here for a little while, it’s no secret how much I enjoy physical affection…but these experiences made me feel cheap and dirty and ashamed. I don’t enjoy being touched uninvited, by someone who shouldn’t even be thinking of me that way. And -I’m justifying again- I never dated locally. As far as anyone knew there, I was single and celibate and happy that way. I was discreet…I guess what I’m trying to say, for lack of eloquent wording, is that I don’t come across ‘easy’, I’m not ‘known for being open with myself’, quite the contrary.

Is infidelity not as big a deal to others as it is to me?

Can anyone shed any light at all on this for me?

x

Facebook Notes – 100 things

Does anyone else remember, like 5 years ago, when the craze on Facebook was ‘notes’? Before e-cards, status shuffle and Timeline . Dredged this up from the archives…

1. Real Name: Ashley Jane, and it’s really not that hard to find my last name here, but I’m still not going to make it quite this easy

2. Like it?:  Nope

3. Favorite Sport: Dressage. Used to love Barrel Racing too.

4. Zodiac sign: On the cusp of Gemini and Cancer

5. Male or female: Female

6.  Elementary: Catholic school first off, then the local government…

7. Middle: Hmmm guess this is American, middle school only taking off here now

8. High: Jesus Christ. An experience. I was probably horrible.

9. College: Haven’t finished. Probably won’t.

10. Hair color: Changes every time it falls out and grows back. Right now dark, and pink and purple.

11. Eye color: Brown

12. Hair length: Short, spiky, hate it.

13. Current worry:  I’d really like to sleep tonight.

14. Race: Aussie . Lotsa Spanish, some English and irish.

15. Are you a health freak: I fucking well should be…

16. Height: Short. 5’1ish.

17. Do you have a crush on someone: Masses of people, actually

18. Do you like yourself: Sometimes

19. Piercings: Ears

20. Tattoos: Just one, Bailey on my wrist.

21. Righty or lefty: Righty – started off ambidextrous but left is ‘the devils hand’ apparently… 

 

FIRSTS-

22. First surgery: Caesarean – thanks Bman!

23. First piercings: Ears

24. First friend: Can’t remember. Can I count our Lassie-dog? Bluey.

25. First award: No idea now.

26. First sport: Uhhh…dancing I think…tee ball?

27. First pet: Bluey I guess, my mums an animal freak like me so we had lots when I was little,

28.  First vacation: Bali and Singapore I think. Would’ve been 4.

29.  First teacher: Can’t remember.

30. First crush:  I don’t know…would’ve been any surfie type I guess

 

THIS OR THAT-

31. Orange or apple juice: Apple

32. Rock or rap: Rock if I had to pick forever, I like both though.

33. Country or scream o: What is screamo? Probably still that, lol.

34. NYSNC or Backstreet Boys: I feel like I should just leave this…but I had a massive Nick Carter crush growing up.

35. Britney Spears or Christina Aguliera: Neither generally, I think Christina’s got some actual talent though.

36. Night or day: Night.

37. Sun or moon: Moon.

38. TV or internet:  Internet.

39. Playstation or XBOX: Xbox, although I really have no idea about that gaming stuff.

40. Kiss or hug: Both at the same time please.

41. Iguana or turtle: Turtle.

42. Spider or bee: Holy fuck.

43. Fall or spring: Either. As long as it’s not Summer, I’m good.

44. Limewire or iTunes: iTunes

45. THIS LINE IS MOSTLY FILLER – um. ok.

46. Soccer or baseball:  Not really a ball sport kinda chick…

 

CURRENTLY

50. Drinking: Water.

51. I’m about to: Try and sleep.

53. Singing: Crack the Shutters – Snow Patrol

54. Typing: Fuck, I don’t know smartass…

 

FUTURE-

55. Want kids: I sure hope so at this point…

56. When: Almost six years ago seems about right..

57. Want to get married: *cringe*

58. When: God. Stop.

59. Where do you want to live: Hmm. Somewhere cool. North America, east coast-ish.

60. How many kids do you want: One is fine.

61. Any names on the mind: Bman. Haha.

62. What did you want to be when you were little: Everything. I wanted to write and have a dairy farm for agessss.

63. What do you think you’ll be doing: Kicking cancer’s ass hopefully.

64. Mellow future or wild: Either would be fantastic at this point

65 THIS LINE IS ALSO FILLER

66. Something you would never try: Um. Skydiving, bungee jumping etc. No interest.

67. When do you wanna die: I don’t.

 

WHICH IS BETTER WITH THE OPPOSITE SEX-

68. Lips or eyes: Eyes.

69. Hugging or kissing: Both

70. Shorter or taller: Taller than me, but still on the short side, haha.

71. Tan skinned or light: Don’t mind.

72. Romantic or spontaneous: Both, romantically spontaneous sounds pretty hot.

73. Dark or light hair: Don’t mind.

74. Muscular or normal: -shrug-

75. Hook-up or relationships: Hook ups for now, but really I’m a relationship person.

76. Similar to you or different: Hmm. Similar in some ways would work for me I think.

 

HAVE YOU EVER-

78. Kissed a stranger: Hell yes.

79. Drank bubbles: Maybe?

80. Broken a bone: Only toes.

81. Climbed up a tree: Yep.

82. Broken someones heart: Probably. Yes.

83. Turned someone down: Yep.

84. Had your heart broken: nope never

85. Liked a friend as more than a friend: Of course.

 

DO YOU BELIEVE IN-

86. Yourself: I’m trying to.

87. Miracles: Yes.

88. Love at first sight: In a way.

89. Santa clause: I wish.

90. Kiss on first date: Sure.

91. Angels: Not so much.

 

ANSWER TRUTHFULLY-

92. Is there one or more people you want to be with right now: Yes.

93. Who is it: Anyone who would lie in bed, rub my back and put up with me sooking?

94. Like someone: Not like…in particular…but yeah I guess?

 

LASTS-

95. Text message: My bestie, just saying Lol. I’m so articulate.

96. Received call: Crazy friend who I love.

97. Call made: Hospital.

98. Facebook message: One of my best friends, who I met through blogging.

99. Missed call: My Dad.

100. Last hung out with: Bestie and Bailey.

x

The post where I cry. And some more. And then hopefully feel better.

After writing this, I now feel all self-conscious, almost guilty, like I lied and now have to admit to it.

I didn’t, by the way, and some of me still feels like that. That inner-okness. It’s just the shit around all that that is making me feel like my brain is about to spew through my ears.

Over the past few months. probably 90% of the times I’ve felt like I couldn’t cope, have cried, hyperventilated, wanted to self-medicate, blah blah, come down to three things. One of them, I can cut right back on, one I can’t fix and just have to cope with, one is a total headfuck that should not be going on this long, but if anyone can tell me how to fix it…

Number two is obviously illness. I cope. I have to. It sucks.

Number three is the Craig thing. Yep. Still.

Number one is…deep breath…these guys

Safin

Elmo – giving Bman a kiss

Drum <3

Put simply, horses aren’t a hobby or sport, they’re a lifestyle.

I don’t have the time, energy or money. This is killing me, because I actually love all of them. I thought this would be a hiatus… but now all the plans I had have fallen apart. I don’t know what to do. The thing is, life doesn’t stop because I need to cope. I want to put them on ice, pause them where they are while I wait and see how my life turns out, how I adjust to this new reality.

I thought I’d be less stressed not having them at home, so they’re agisted maybe 45 minutes away. I have people feeding them, checking on them, looking after their every need… I have a running account at the vet so there’s never an issue of having to get hold of me if someone needs attention.

I’m less busy, maybe even more stressed though, every time the phone rings, my first thought is something’s wrong with one of them…and wouldn’t you know it, they’ve had more injuries in the last 6 months than the 10 years before that.

My heart pounds, my hands shake and I want to hyperventilate.

Is the (slight) possibility of getting better enough to move home and play ponies worth this?

Two aren’t really saleable…Drum has cancer (anyone seeing a theme? Fuck cancer) and he’s old…I fucking love him and he taught me so much. He’s happy – except for the fact he injured himself again tonight, cue frantic phonecalls and explaining to the vet yet again no I won’t be out, this is why I pay agistment, because I’m 45 minutes away in the middle of a chemo cycle. Before vomiting. Elmo is a little feral, the one rescue I’ve broken my ‘no rescues’ rules for.  Saf, who Craig and I brought together could be sold… it would be a load off my mind, would cut the costs almost in half…

He’s the one I pin my ‘when I get better’ hopes on, if I sell him, does that mean I’ve given up on a life?

Fuck knows.

Breathe.

x

Mother

“Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children.” – William Makepeace Thackeray.

I haven’t really written about my mother before.

She’s smart, free spirited, young looking. She’s funny (with an edge). She’s short like me, with the same long legged and minimal torso ratio.

She left permanently when I was 9.

She’d been gone before, for long stretches of time, sometimes a couple of months.

I never really minded, and I can remember being confused when people would sympathise with me. About friends going on about their mums as a teenager, and then looking awkward ‘sorry Ash’. It really never bothered me.

She was kind of a huge bitch to live with, and I remember feeling annoyed when she would come for visits. She favoured my brother quite blatantly. We used to visit her most school holidays…she chose to live overseas from us…and that’s ok.

I miss her now though. Not her, specifically. We have an ok relationship, not a mother-daughter one.

I look at my friends and the relationships they have with their mothers now, in our 20s…I could use some of that. That nurturing. I’ve never really had it, but I somehow miss it now.

I wonder if it’s part of the reason I often end up in close friendships with women older than me, if it’s that yearning I can’t quite put my finger on. I have this one particular friend…I love her to death. She makes me soup and tells me to whip my jeans off so she can hem them. I roll my eyes when she talks to me about organising her freezer and how to make meals from leftovers, but secretly I’m lapping it up.

I know people have been worried about me and Bailey. Craig, in one of our worst arguments ever, confessed he was worried that I could do the same, because I’m like her. In so many ways. I’m intensely curious about other ways of life, and when I go somewhere I don’t want to be a tourist… I want to immerse myself in people, live like them, experience their lifestyle, not just look at it. I’d talk about living overseas for 5 years, revisiting orphanages, riding in Europe, staying with family in Venice… He’d talk about what was on TV, his favourite beer, and I’d feel like I was drowning.

I’ve got no idea how to be a mother really, my memories from when I was little are all blurry and skewed. I never ask her about when we were small, there’s this unspoken truce that prevents it. I’m not like a mother now, and I know that. I’m cool with that. I love love love my friends who are mothers, and I think they love me back and we laugh about our differences and they trust me with their children and think Bailey is beautiful ‘and he’s so you, Ash’. They laugh hysterically at my attitude towards it all, when Bman asked why I was ‘vacuuming that funny table’ (ironing), and my apparently ‘holistic ideals’ about parenting (I don’t smack, rarely yell, say yes a lot. and now I homeschool.).

But when they talk about ironing, or school lunches, or nits, or poo, it makes me twitch. I have no idea how to get over that. I love my son more than life, I actually feel honoured to be the one raising him. But holy fuck, give me a conversation about psychology, spirituality, the most hilarious thing their offspring did that week, who they are as a person, and what they feel and how they got here…

I suck at this mum thing.

I rock at this mum thing.

I swing like a pendulum between the two mindframes, and yeah sometimes it’s dependent on his behaviour (when he swore after I let him watch Drop Dead Fred to when he picked up coins for an old lady, when he did a poo in the kitty litter after I spent 2 weeks trying to bribe him to use the toilet, to when he befriended the four year old in his class who couldn’t speak English) but other times I feel sucky because of my genuine disinterest in the day to day mundane…

Does it make me a bad mum? Does he feel my ambivalence?

I asked him, and he said ‘Life isn’t about that stuff. I wish we could have McDonalds’.

x