Archive for March, 2013

It’s verge collection time.

When everyone throws out their unwanted junk, old furniture, fridges, boxy tvs.

This house is full of old junk, my grandfather is a hoarder. It’s an illness, they say. I wish I could open all the windows, crank some Pearl Jam, and ditch things over the balcony. Start again with white cane and furniture made of driftwood.

It’s more about me than the house, wanting things fresh and new, of course. My messenger bleeps and I see it’s my tenant from up the hill, asking what type of garden edging I’d like.

Whatever, I text. Whatever you’d like, what you think is best.

She thinks I’m the best landlady ever.

My friend, who I’ve let ride my good horse this year, calls for a chat, asking me about moving agistment centres, if he might need the chiro, she went out on Saturday and a bit of fencing was down and I just want to scream.

‘Why won’t you people leave me alone and here’s my credit card number and it’s not that I don’t care it’s because I just can’t and if I could I would have stayed at home!’

Fuck. And the thing is, I could be feeling fine tomorrow. I’m deliberately not making any big decisions, not doing anything I can’t undo because I’m not to be trusted at the moment.

It’s the only damage control I can exercise when my brain and body are on the edge of a freak-out. I throw $30 of steak to the dogs because I think it ‘smells funny’, vomit in the sink cooking eggs, notice my hands are shaking and my mouth tastes like metal. So I know not to trust myself, this isn’t real, this is just an imbalance and you’re doing everything you can to sort it out, I tell myself.

I’m so lucky. So lucky I have the luxury of being able to give myself some time. The relief floods me sometimes, the feeling of not having to make hard decisions, which horse goes first, do we sell our house now or later or subdivide the land or stick it out or or or. I’m blessed and I know that but my thankfulness doesn’t change the anxiety I feel when people bring up stuff I’d rather not think about, when my beautiful old horse has his first paddock injury in the 8 years I’ve had him, and I have to find the energy reserve I don’t have to deal with things that would have been minor once.

So my best best friend comes and takes Bailey for an icecream, and I sit here and write all this shit out, and work on my novel, and I don’t know what I’d do without my friends. I call my other riding instructor come friend, who I could barely talk to about my own horse and ask if she’d help me run Drum to the vets because I just don’t want to do it by myself, and the answer is of course. I’ll always help where I can. And it took me two whole days of feeling sick over something so minor for it to even occur to me that I could ask for help.

For an apparently smart person, I can be so incredibly slow.

And this morning I woke up to this 🙂



Life is good, really everything is fine, I just need my mind and body to catch up 🙂


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‘So you’re…’ he paused, glanced at the monitor ’27, you’ve had thyroid problems for 10 years, two separate types of cancer, you have endometriosis, cysts, underlying glandular fever, have previously been diagnosed with PTSD…adrenal fatigue…and you don’t buy that all this is unrelated?’

‘That’s right, and no I think most, if not all of this is connected’

‘Why do you think that?’

‘Because I’m not retarded?’

He looked up, and we held eye contact for a second, surprise evident in his. His lips twitched and then he was laughing, seemingly unable to contain himself.

I waited.

He stood up offered me his hand, and we shook, even though I had already been in his office for 15 minutes. His eyes crinkled.

‘Very pleased to meet you Ash’


 I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but I like this guy… He looks like a leftover hippy, long grey hair and a bright shirt. He’s not only a MD, but a psychotherapist, a nutritionist, a naturopath.

He has a waiting list a mile long, and he picks clients. He specialises in hormonal problems and mental health and is scarily intuitive.

‘The PTSD…what is that in relation to?’

‘I, um, had an awful experience awhile ago. About the same time as I developed the Graves Disease, which I guess didn’t help’

‘Something sexual’ It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

‘Somewhat, yes.’

‘We’ve only just met, and I’m a bloke, so I don’t expect you to discuss this. I’m just getting a basic timeline. I guess you’re sick of all the fuck ups that started with the Graves, and I know you’ve had every test…but I am going to have to do a full blood screen before we go any further. Maybe there’ll be some more red flags to help us, maybe not. I hope I can help you either way.’

No promises. No bullshit. No minimization.

‘So tell me, how’s your life?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘How are you finding life?’

‘Yeah, I’m really enjoying it, living the dream you know’ He grins, and I relax slightly. ‘I don’t know. I’ve changed everything, my whole lifestyle. I’ve dragged my kid out of school, quit my job. I’m getting really fucked off. I’m not a naturally depressive person, but I am just so sick of this’. My voice quivers, and I take a deep breath. ‘I don’t know what else to do. I meditate, I’ve tried every diet. I smoked ten thousand dollars worth of specially grown dope when the chemo didn’t work after I last came out of remission. Something has to change. I can’t do this forever.’

So, I guess we’ll see.


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I just noticed I’m at 150 posts, and I think since I did 100 things about me for my 100th, I should do another 50 random things today 🙂

Some of them will probably be repeats, but oh well.

  1. I’m thinking about having another baby, despite having no-one to have one with the traditional way. I’d love to wait for the perfect situation but my body says I have to hurry up.
  2. I’m going to the US, either this year or next. Yay!
  3. I’m currently ebaying for rosary beads, just because I love them, despite being an atheist.
  4. I just joined NaNoWriMo
  5. I’ve just had a major (hopefully temporary) lifestyle change.
  6. And I have no idea what we’re going to do next.
  7. And by ‘we’ I mean me and my son, who’s 5.
  8. I’ve had 2 types of cancer.
  9. I’m 27. Oh God.
  10. I’m Australian and joke about being a bogan, but I know I’m pretty far from the stereotype really.
  11. I love writing.
  12. Recently someone was hassling me, so (after months) I very calmly told him to Fuck. Off. or he’d see what harassment really was (paraphrasing).
  13. And it worked. Pussy.
  14. I hate watching sport on tv. Or ever really.
  15. And I hate just having the tv on ‘as background noise’.
  16. And channel surfing, argh!
  17. I rarely smoke now (socially every few weeks if that).
  18. I don’t do drugs.
  19. I’m preparing for a divorce and feel absolutely shattered.
  20. I have a brother I genuinely dislike and I think the world would be better without people like him in it.
  21. I love the coast. Love. Like, religiously.
  22. I also worship wide open space, paddocks, red dust and being miles and miles from a shopping centre. Seeing mobs of sheep, hayrolls, tractors, roos… Now that I am living on the coast, in suburbia, whenever I take a drive inland it feels like my eyes are drinking all that in.
  23. We have this puppy, Charlie…he’s like 3 times the size of his mother already. He is really truly as dumb as a fence post and constantly doing stupid, stupid, hilarious things but I love the absolute hell out of him.
  24. I never thought I’d be a mother. I never thought I could love so intensely.
  25. I love pretty things…in some ways I’m such a girly girl and in others I’m really totally not.
  26. My mantra for the last few months until two days ago was ‘Pour yourself a drink, put on some lipstick, and pull yourself together’.
  27. And then my Dr told me to cease drinking immediately due to low platelets (or something. my blood’s not clotting properly).
  28. There’s better ways to cope anyway.
  29. I just can’t think of them sometimes.
  30. I stood up for myself to my ex yesterday. I’m pretty sure he’s not talking to me and may not for a while, and that hurts. But I’m good in myself and I’m sick of feeling like a doormat.
  31. Bailey just started taekwondo and he looked adorable, and so small.
  32. Something doesn’t sit right in my tummy about it…the deference maybe…but this is not about me.
  33. If I am ever blessed enough to have another baby boy I’ll call him Eli.
  34. I homeschool at the moment.
  35. My hair is short and spiky and awful. I look like a troll doll that’s been hacked at.
  36. If I was ever to have a baby girl I’d call her Astrid. I’ve always loved it and one of my parents wanted to name me that. I wish they had.
  37. I hate my name.
  38. I’m writing a novel.
  39. My cat died a little while ago and I still miss him horribly. I dream about him all the time too.
  40. I miss myself, and I’m trying to get her back.
  41. I have this awful feeling I’ll always be looking for something.
  42. I like some seriously lame music.
  43. And some seriously awesome stuff too!
  44. I miss my horses but I’m avoiding seeing them. I don’t know if I’m going to continue riding. I don’t know if that’s my life anymore.
  45. I still wish on stars, birthday candles, and at 11:11. And I always wish for the same thing.
  46. I’m in love.
  47. And technically single.
  48. I’m incredibly nervous about an appointment tomorrow morning and trying so hard not to show it.
  49. The guy who lives next door is a cop, and one time he ‘caught’ me trying to ‘break in’ here. It’s awkward after that little argument so we avoid each other. He was rude first.
  50. I don’t like the smell of lavender.


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…but I still want to 🙂

So I thought I’d do some of those ‘Daily Post‘ prompt things, not on the day they’re meant for, but oh well. I just had a scroll through and liked this one :

Daily Prompt: Playlist of the Week

by michelle w. on March 10, 2013

Tell us how your week went by putting together a playlist of  five songs that represent it.

So here we go!

Jack’s Mannequin – The Resolution

Trying to live in the moment, to get away from someones hold on you, wanting some sort of resolution but knowing you’ll have to find it within yourself…yep. Seems pretty familiar.

Guns n RosesSweet Child O’ Mine


Saw them in concert last weekend, so awesome. This isn’t actually my favourite song of theirs (its November Rain :P) but I always used to sing it to Bailey when he was younger and now he loves it :). Yeah, I’m a bogan 😛

Lissie – Nothing Else Matters


Awesome cover of one of my favourite Metallica songs. Heard it on Californication and have listened to it all week.

Garbage – When I Grow Up


Because I’m still waiting, haha.

Powderfinger – Sunsets


Happy Monday friends xx



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I’m still here.

I need to get my shit together. Badly. Does anyone want to do it for me? No?

I don’t know how long this is supposed to take. I know I still have chemo brain and probably will for awhile…this mental fog is awful, so demotivating.

I’m buying into other people’s expectations, the ‘you should be feeling better by now’ statements laced with accusations.

I’m only writing this to get it clear in my own head, I apologise.

We went to Soundwave the other day and it was awesome…but I was stressed and just wanted to drink my way through it…and I felt like the alcohol barely touched me, except to make the inevitable squealing, crowd surges, grabbing etc bearable.

And I saw this guy picking a fight with security, because I have the best taste in men 🙂

I have huge painful lumps on the inside of my cheeks…my mouth tastes like blood…because I’ve taken to biting the insides of my lips and cheeks when someone screams, or suddenly says ‘Ash!’, or Bailey squeals at the beach, or something comes on tv I’m not prepared for, or, or, or.

I’m so over this.

This week, I’m going to force myself to make a Drs appointment. That’s all. Just ring up and make an appointment. How on earth does that feel so challenging?


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