Archive for June, 2013


I am not a fan of birthdays. Most years I have a predictable emotional shit storm in the weeks leading up to it, and then suddenly go ‘Oh ok. Not so bad’ when the actual day rocks around.

This year was better, and it was worse.

It was better because I kept forgetting it was coming up, and because I was so bogged down in the big stuff, it barely mattered.

It was worse, because you know how when things go wrong on your birthday, it seems harder to take than any other day?

What my birthday did not look like

In addition to the phone thing (which I may have a resolution for fairly soon) there was a mistake with a parking ticket, so I found out I’d been driving without a license for god knows how long :(. I was home alone – my mum had Bailey because it was my treatment day, and all I ended up doing was frantically trying to the suspension on my license lifted.

Didn’t happen, so I missed treatment. I wasn’t devastated. My bestie came around ‘for drinks’..we had one and went to bed at 830. I was just exhausted. That week 2 members of my extended family had passed, there was the phone drama, license, treatment, my dog was out of control (Bailey’s dog I should say, my dog is perfect ūüôā ). Masses of bills, medical and otherwise piling up… We decided to get me out of the house the next day…I was sinking, badly. Of course we ran into one person I really hoped I wouldn’t when I decided to move back here. The kinda person you maybe don’t want seeing you at an incredibly vulnerable point.


That was last week. This week has been less awful, just with a couple of random extra things to cope with. Although my finances are being cut¬†– again. I have to report every 2 weeks – still have cancer. Still have cancer. Still have cancer. God. Talk about demoralising. I’d love to be¬†working. Unless I work something out (or start selling stuff)¬†before too long, horses will start going, and my house next year¬†and my previous life will really just be a memory, not something I’m on hiatus from and can go back to.

I don’t even know if I want to go back, but without rental income I’m fucked. Without a base, I’m also fucked because it is incredibly hard to find a rental here, and a single mum with cancer and two dogs isn’t going to make the top of any list.

These things happen, and I can survive ok for roughly 6 months (barring anything else absolutely unfair happening) before I have to make hard choices. Thank God I own my cars, float etc outright and I don’t have any store debt etc. I know that’s unusual for my age and situation – and a massive blessing, and it’s what’s saved my ass so far. If I just could have stayed in remission, I could have gotten through, recovered,¬†without too much long term¬†damage to mine and Bailey’s living situation. But it wasn’t meant to be, so now I just have to be in damage control, bucketing out water and trying to plug leaks so we sink a bit slower, hoping something comes up in the meantime.

I know we’ll be ok. If everything else goes and we have food on the table that’s ok. I’ll grieve, but we’ll be together, and sometimes that’s what left and you can focus on what’s lost, or you can focus on what you have and make it work.

First thing tomorrow morning I’m pulling my head out of the sand, finding out where I really really am, what I can and can’t afford to lose and regaining some control.

Love you guys


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When someone asks me how I am, I’ll quite often respond with this. I don’t know where or who I picked it up from (conversely, I’ve noticed a few friends have picked it up from me) or even what I mean by it.

Maybe it’s a ‘I’ve said everything there is to say, nothing has changed, so let’s move on’

That’s generally the type of person I am. I get on with it. I ‘pull my socks up’, my ‘finger out’. I ‘build a bridge’, ‘move on’, keep my ‘chin up’. (‘You have a determined chin, Flossy’, one of the most special people I’ve ever known used to say.)

Also, I’m not great at small talk. I find it boring and suburban and annoying, and it probably shows.  I don’t want to discuss soft furnishings past a ‘yes that looks good’ or ‘omg no’ opinion when asked for.

(But I know other people LOVE small talk, and with people I love, I’m happy to indulge them. They usually notice when I start twitching and cut me a break.)

Maybe (lately) it’s code for OMG. CAN’T EVEN.

I’m not ok.

People are noticing.

I’m not ok to the point where even fucking Craig calls to check on me.

‘Hey. Just checking in. You ok?’

‘Yep yep. How’re you?’

‘Yeah good. What’s happening with -insert phone company name-? And did you get your license back? How’s treatment? What’s happening for school holidays?’

-mumbling so he can’t hear me fighting tears- ‘Yeah. I’m getting through it. Thanks for calling. Sorry, I better go. Bye.’

Somehow, through all of this, we’re friendly again. I think it makes things worse, somehow.

I’m not ok to the point that MY MOTHER is moving back. Anyone who knows me personally knows what a head fuck that would be. The conversation when she told me was so circular that she probably doesn’t want to come back now, I don’t know. All I could say was ‘Um. Why?’, and ‘You know it’s Perth, right?’. Apparently it seems ‘like you and Bailey might need me around a little more’, and I think it’s a testament to my self-restraint that I didn’t point out that I actually needed her 15 years ago, instead murmuring something about my grandmother being thrilled, while my mouth slowly filled with blood.

I’m relating to people less and less or maybe I just don’t have it in me to try right now. I’m sick of people asking me ‘what’s wrong’ or saying that I just need to learn how to accept help, ‘let go and let God’ (whatever the fuck that is), restore my karmic balance, meditate, whatever. I just want to scream ‘I HAVE CANCER AND IT’S ACTUALLY OK TO STRUGGLE WITH THAT!’. I’m sorry that I’m not pouring drinks, making everyone giggle, that I’m not able to be cruisey with my time and energy. I’m sorry that I actually don’t feel like I can spend a day at a horse show right now, or give some lessons. Or whatever.

I am doing better though. If nothing else, I’m sticking up more for me and Bailey and really really starting to accept that it is just us, that I can’t rely on anyone else. I won’t rely on anyone else, won’t compromise myself ever again. I’ve always put other people first, and I just can’t anymore.

If there was ever a time to put myself first, this is it.

I’ll never give anyone the power to (almost) break me again. Not that it doesn’t feel like that could still happen, I know I’m not all the way through yet. I don’t know how to get all the way through. I feel like you probably have to want it, more than I do.

I have no idea what I’ve written or why I’ve written, but the pressure in my chest just eased off a bit, and that’s enough for me. So no editing, reading back, anything. For once.

Love love xx

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So, it’s all been a little¬†depressing around here lately.

I thought a few of you might be interested in some pictures of where I’m living now, aka my hometown. Home-suburb now within a city. Whatever.

I don’t have an iPhone right now¬†(LOL) so I’m going to stalk through what I have on the puter, plus hit up google.

Presenting :


I must have spent half my childhood here


It’s generally at least this pretty over the water


In town, on the foreshore


The estuary


The ‘old bridge’ into town

aaaand an update:

I think I’m doing¬†a little less crappy, it’s hard to tell. I think just talking a little bit¬†helps to some degree… I know lots of people probably think I’m insane but I decided to leave the anti-depressants¬†/ anxiety medication for the time being. I just can’t stand the thought of putting anything else chemical into my body right now :(.

The phone issue¬†is kinda¬†bigger than ben hur at the moment…but at least it is giving me something to focus I guess. I’m completely pissed off at their shitty handling of the situation…but I will go into it more once it’s sorted.

Treatment is meh. Ok. You know, just one of those things. I got over the pneumonia pretty quickly.

I’m just keeping on keeping on I guess.


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*long-winded, please please bear with me*

Remember how I mentioned my iPhone was in the shop? Like a month ago?

Ok – backstory. This is the iPhone 5 that I have had for¬†about¬†6 months, after dropping my 4 in the dogs water. I have this annoying habit of popping everything in my bra then when I lean over to do stuff…argh.


My dad was down for a couple of nights, so I left Bailey with him and wandered off to check what on earth has happened to my phone, go to the Laundromat, blah blah.¬†I walked into my mobile phone¬†providers shop – quite a large national company, and started fiddling with the display phones while I waited for someone to get to me. Got to the iPhones and¬†pressed the button on the¬†4…hey that lock screen looks familiar. Unlocked it and it was my old Facebook home page.

Fuck. Me.

In total disbelief I flicked through the phone, yep all my apps. Into the messages, every text from all of 2012. On my Facebook, even though there’s no sim in display phones, you can still see a good amount of my messages, it just won’t load more. But it will load all previous¬†texts, my whole call log, 50 emails. Went into photos, pictures of Bailey and other people’s kids. WordPress app – every post from here to here in entirety.

A health app with all my medical details, weight, height, treatments I’ve had – everything. A period tracker.

Oh. My. God.

Once the nice girl in the shop believed it was actually my phone I made her cut it down and kept it with me. She called her manager really upset…asked me to come back in and meet him a couple of hours later. Which was a total waste of time, he just wanted to apologise…

Not that anything can fix it but holy shit.

I rang consumer protection and spoke to two people that were just totally shocked and angry on my behalf.

It takes a lot to get me angry but I am so seeing red over this!

Any thoughts??


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First, an update.

That cold I thought I had? Pneumonia. I don’t feel as bad as you’d expect. But bad enough.

Also, severe depression apparently. Right up in the glowing red, clanging alarms, danger zone.

I’m surprised and I think maybe they scored wrong, or didn’t listen when I said ‘sure, of course I’ve thought about it, I wouldn’t follow through though.’

I still think it feels ‘not me’ and like it’s from…something external… The professional opinion is life catching up to me though.

I guess it doesn’t matter either way.


I keep getting this awful feeling that something is going to blow, with Craig and I.

He’s never gotten violent, and I didn’t used to¬†worry about Bailey in his care.

I just have this awful ‘tick tick’ type feeling. He’s irrational…the mood swings are epic. He can’t grasp cancer being worse than a cold… He doesn’t understand that it’s not fair to tell me everything I’ve ever done wrong, practically string me up over these half-truths and exaggerations and flat out lies without any intention in his behalf to make any commitment to sorting himself out.

He can’t seem to see that it’s not the time, he can’t see outside of his own feelings…I guess what I’m trying to say is, he doesn’t seem capable of empathy anymore, not just with me, how he talks about his family, workmates¬†now… I barely know him anymore.

He has me over a barrel financially and could make my life hell if he wanted to. So I try to play nice, and it sucks. Because I want to scream at him to wake up. I don’t know how to deal with all this, how to stand up for myself without making him worse. Without him getting worse, I mean. I know his behaviour is on him.

I can’t handle anymore drama.

I can’t shake him off, or move on properly without losing a lot. I’m not in the position¬†to start from scratch and rebuild my life.

My instincts are screaming at me…when he was here last week, I was jumpy…I can feel his anger and resentment towards me. I felt like every sense was heightened every time I turned my back on him. He’ll lay into me, verbally, saying he ‘needs to talk to me’ and when I defend myself, say something is not true, his jaw clenches and his hands shake…

I’ve never been scared of him before,¬†but he’s never given me reason to be.

Maybe it’s just my messy head mixing things up.

But it feels like something is going to give, soon.


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So yeah, it all sucks a little right now.

Basically, I’d really like to just delete¬†myself from facebook, here, my email, and throw my phone into the ocean. Sit under a doona with tissues and hot tea and no interruptions. I even got to the point of considering just not doing treatment, and feeling¬†lucky because, you know, at least¬†I have an out, right?¬†I could just pretend to be ‘leaving it in the hands of fate’ because I’m not suicidal, I’m more just…not into life.

Bailey. I know right? I’m a terrible mother and probably a horrible person right now. Of course I love the hell out of him, even if I can’t quite touch that feeling lately. Except for when it breaks through, blinding light through shutters, and it’s absolutely all I can feel, too much, leaving me winded and gasping.

Anyway. Today, I bullied myself into having a shower AND brushing my teeth *slow clap*. Ran a couple of errands, more than I’ve done in ages. I was exhausted after. School is on hiatus, so I am sucking at that too. Speaking of which, we got assessed week before last, and I smiled and made coffee and Bailey was gorgeous and she was so pleased with us. I felt like the most worthless piece of shit after though, because it was such a total act.

I have this shitty cold, and you’d think in light of everything else it’d barely register…wrong. I felt like shit before, all I can taste is chemicals, everything keeps bleeding, and god forbid I should try to¬†have some time with the dogs or horses…it’s not worth looking like I’ve been beaten after with huge purpley black bruising. So add a blocked nose and pounding head and dry hacking cough, and yeah it’s noticeable. I’m so close to the edge of my ‘coping capacity’ now, that it takes very little to push me through to the ‘clinging by fingertips’ point.

It was Bailey’s birthday over the weekend, so we had his best friends down for three nights. I love these kids and usually love having them, but yeah, it was a bit much for me. Craig came down, and told me everything I’ve ever done wrong in our whole relationship, from his point of view. Because apparently it’s my fault I’m overwhelmed. And I can’t even write about it, because it hurts too much, making my chest squeeze and eyes prickle, and I don’t understand how he could, when I’m so obviously doing my best and still not coping.

I’m not a fucking punching bag, and yeah it’s easy to say, but if there’s something I know about myself, it’s that I prefer that to … nothing … That’s gotta change.

Anyway, out of the seven mediations I’m on, I think maybe one of them is having some weird side effect…some of the thoughts in my head, about stopping treatment etc, it doesn’t feel like me, and it’s the weirdest fucking thing. Or maybe this is just depression, I wouldn’t know. Anxiety, I get. PTSD, I get. But I *am* going to the Dr tomorrow, and a different one next week, and between the two of them I need some kind of treatment. Like, last week.

Wow, that was exhausting to write.

In other shit, my tests are slightly better, so we are on the right track treatment wise, I still don’t have my iphone¬†back but can’t be¬†bothered pushing for it, I can hear the beach and it sounds angry. My cat won’t leave me alone, and I’m stupidly grateful to him right now.

I watched the surfers for ages today, just sat and stared out. The sun kept peeking through dark clouds, making the grey waves sparkle. Bailey asked why they do the same thing over and over, they already know what’s going to happen. Maybe that’s the point.


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