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Posts Tagged ‘life’

Something I started thinking about at 4pm on a random boring Tuesday. The promises we make ourselves. No. Not promises. More like contracts. Long running scripts, fulfilling expectations.

I promised I’d never be loved, or wanted or sexualised ever again. I was 14.

I pledged I’d never suicide, after seeing it up close, in high definition. The most envious I’ve ever been was when I realised I’d have to live through what he did, and that I couldn’t make the same choice, could never cause a fraction of that pain. And that he wouldn’t know any of it.

When I was 10, I was given a horse. I clung to him. I was focused. I managed his care, his diet, my life revolved around him. He was my safe place and I knew I would always need to have horses. I will forever be grateful for that all encompassing passion and commitment, it saved me through my messy adolescence, but I’m not really there now. Horses don’t serve me the way they used to. Still I hang on. Because that’s what I do. I have horses.

I knew I’d never be ok again, after my ex left, and its dawned on me that I sub consciously hold myself to all these contracts, expectations that I set for myself. It’s hard letting go of all this. If I’m ok, does that mean I didn’t try hard enough? Does it mean I think Bailey not having the ideal is good enough?

Growing up, I assumed that I’d end up being a single mother, living in a unkempt house with a menagerie. It wasn’t what I wanted, it was just what I expected. So here I am. I have been a cyclebreaker in other, arguably more important ways, so it stands to reason I should be able to break this one too, if I so choose.

We really do create our own reality.

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Last night, I had the strangest dream (I sailed away to China, on a little rowboat to find ya). No, I dreamt I was dead, really dead, and I could see everything and know what happened, but then there was God, and I realised I’ve been wrong all these years, and oh fuck there is a God, and what happens now?

Even asleep, I knew I wouldn’t have done much differently anyway. Actually, a god-like figure in my life probably would have just given me someone else to fight with, to pull back from, to blame for my own shortcomings.

Anyway, I could also see everyone I love, and some I don’t, and what was going to happen in each persons life and how inevitable it all is. It was devastating watching people throw themselves on fires of drugs and dysfunction and burning nothingness, having no idea.

Hmm.

So, this morning, I got up, went to work. Didn’t feel like doing too much, so came home and felt shitty. Last week I blitzed the place, washed the horses, worked everyone, premade feeds, scrubbed waters. I have a feral pony here, supposed to be in work, I’m probably doing a quarter of what I should be.

This is recovery. This is coping.

Turns out it’s not all physical. My brain throws out the weirdest shit some days and I get these thoughts that go around and round, oh God, is there a way I can be made to do mainstream treatment, what if my car blows up, I have no money, blah blah blah. I got so used to living with anxiety for actual reasons that now my brain looks for them. Things are actually good! And getting better, and I’m so grateful.

Ash xx

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Hey guys, seems time for a life update yeah?

So, you’ll never guess what. I’m still off mainstream treatment, and still holding steady. I have good days (like yesterday) and very flat days (like today). I’ve lost some weight (I needed to, and should keep dropping naturally I hope) and my cycle is slowly becoming regular. My skin is looking better, I haven’t needed a nap in the afternoon in ages, and I’ve slowly started riding again ūüôā

My best mate lives with us now, it’s awesome. Saved my ass financially too. And sometimes, she makes my bed ‚̧

Everything is so up in the air but I’m fighting in the only ways I can to keep our house and lifestyle, and that’s that. Underneath that, I’m stable. I have shitty horrible days but I’m ok. I know myself. I’m single and actually good with that to the point of wanting to stay that way. Bailey is just a livewire, bright and happy. He’s developed a real sense of humour (god knows he’ll need it) and his creativity has been shining through. We’re still ‘homeschooling’ (legally, though truth be told we tend to edge more toward unschooling these days, not that we try to fit into any particular category) and I can’t see us re-entering mainstream education any time soon. It just works for us. I regret putting him into school in the first place, I had that spot in my tummy where you know something’s not right but I just I don’t know? Wanted us to fit in? I guess school is just the thing to do, and there aren’t a lot of options here.

Everything is geared towards people entering the mainstream education system. Doesn’t mean it’s bad, just not for everyone I guess.¬†

So yeah, that’s us. There’s been a lot of friend drama, house drama, financial drama but I feel removed from it all most of the time. It doesn’t matter. It’s highly likely I’ll end up walking out of this house with nothing to show for it but that’s ok. If I’m here for one year or ten before starting over I’m just going to make the best of it. We like it here. It’s cruisy and I have the best work and friends, but I find gorgeous people anywhere i go and Bailey seems the same. I want to stay here as long as possible, because we’re set but when it’s time to go, I won’t grieve.¬†

Sunsets and stars. Bonfires. Hugs and true friends and the smell of rain. I can have the important things anywhere we go.

x

 

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‘Who knows, and does it matter?’ I scratched a pattern on the sheet. ‘I don’t think I need to define it. I’ve been there. Straight. I’m straight. But then I’m not.’

She yawned, luxuriously, not bothering to cover herself as she stretched. ‘Maybe it doesn’t matter. I just think that I deserve to know. Is this real?’

‘It’s as real as anything else.’

*******

All of my relationships have been with men. Nice, not so nice, tall, blonde, funny, smart, but all of them men. Writers and labourers and dealers and doctors. So would you assume I’m ‘straight’? Does it matter?

All of that, relationships and rules and limits, seems so far away now, almost alien. 

It took me so long to drop the labels. I wish they didn’t exist. Sexuality, to me, is gorgeous and intrinsic and can be so, I don’t know, fluid? It’s so hard to put what I’m trying to say into writing. I wish no-one had to ‘come out’, and we would just love who we love and that’s it. Isn’t it odd to have all these expectations and boxes and contracts. I understand the level of relief some people must feel when their sexuality has a name and is accepted. I’ve just always felt sort of…straight-jacketed, I guess… by labels, but it seems like society is so uncomfortable and overly invested in people not having one, and I’m insecure enough to let that bother me still.

Some experiences just are what they are, whether it’s a lasting enduring love, a passing attraction, or one intense night with someone. I don’t want to over-think and label everything. It truly doesn’t matter, and life is swirly and confusing and connections with people are special.¬†

I still can’t touch what I’m saying. I’ve slept with people I’ve loved and disliked and felt ambivalence towards. I change. It changes. Needs and wants change. Can your sexuality change? I don’t know. Do people have a true base sexuality that fits into one of five (? that I can think of) categories and are the layers on top a nature vs nurture type deal? Why does it matter? People do care who you sleep with. No one ‘comes out’ as straight.¬†

Freedom in all ways can be so intoxicating, and sometimes it seems like there’s no rules left.¬†

So beautiful.

x

 

 

 

 

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I’m struggling, badly.

I hate writing these posts, but I hate not writing them more. I’m doing nothing with my life, I feel genuinely incapable of letting go of objects, people, and situations that I know are weighing me down. I’m fairly sure I’ve become symptomatic, some days.

I still have good days, a few in a row, and it’s them that keep me going and striving towards some kind of life. Ironically, my cancer count has continued to fall after stopping mainstream medication and there’s something that makes me think I won’t have cancer forever, that I will reach full remission. I can’t describe what that ‘something’ is but it just feels like something I know, like the sun will set tonight, a deep faith. I’m not religious, but if I was, I would¬†think¬†that God¬†is looking after me in this way, and that everything is going to be ok.

Being in the middle still sucks though. Some days I even consider sending Bailey to school, just to give myself a break, but when my brain fog clears I know we’d both be worse off. I’ve grown more and more disenchanted with our education system, and more distrustful of government systems in general – I think having so much go wrong medically, learning about treatments available elsewhere that are illegal here, seeing a close friend being treated incredibly poorly by the Education Department, having my privacy severely compromised more than once has all taken its toll. Being screwed financially over and over doesn’t help either.

It’s alienating, feeling at odds with society in general, but also strangely freeing. Not my circus, not my monkeys –¬†and all that.

I try not to write about Craig much anymore, but let’s just say he’s a letdown as a father and a human being. On the same day he told me that Bailey hasn’t been doing swimming lessons because of ‘too many bills’, he bragged about his new motorbike. It was Bailey’s birthday a couple of weekends ago and he was so slack. I have protected Bailey’s feelings more and more but unfortunately I can’t keep lying for and making excuses for him.

It’s a horrible lesson to learn that your parents aren’t who you want them to be, but unfortunately I think Bailey will have to start seeing Craig for how he is now, and that’s going to hurt both of us.

We’ll be ok though, we always are.

Ash x

 

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(again)

 

Up the hill.

Sometimes it seems like it’s either fucking cold or really fucking hot, but we have been having some in-between weather lately and I’m grateful for that. And rain. On my tin roof. Small things matter.

I live in a town that seems further than the hour, or roughly 70kms, that it stands from Perth. Our house is ‘in town’, on a few acres. It’s usually pretty quiet. We’re walking distance to the Primary School, playground, bakery, post office, real estate etc.

I like so many things about living here. Actual seasons, spring especially is amazing. Seeing hayrolls and tractors and lambs. It’s a horse-orientated area and that can be good and not so good. I have some awesome, amazing, wonderful friends. It’s low crime, people look out for each other, kids play outside and get dirty.

We have horses, dogs, chickens, a cat and a rabbit.

If someone wants to make your life hell though, it’s pretty easy to do. If you are ‘different’, people notice. Not much stays private. If you are ‘interesting’ or ‘unusual’, people will discuss your life like it’s a TV show, and then pretend they don’t know you at the next get-together.

The good outweighs the bad, usually. It turns out people are actually pretty protective of Bailey and I here, and rather than being given the cold shoulder when we came back like I half expected, most people were just glad to see that we’re ok.

Sure, people think I’m left-centre, but in a likable way I guess.

I don’t have many recent photos, and my house resembles a construction zone right now¬†anyway, but here’s a few old ones, mostly of Bailey here.

014 157 107 102 125 131 149 153 157 009 236 237 240 245

Ash x

 

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Sometimes, when I’m overwhelmed, I get in the shower, turn the water as hot as I can stand and sit at the bottom with my hands over my ears.¬† It feels like¬†I’m in another world, totally removed.

Lately it’s been a daily¬†occurrence, sitting, counting to ten, letting tears escape, rinse and repeat.

I’m starting to get used to the idea that I might not reach this ‘acceptance point’ and feel stable from then on, that it’s going to be up and down, good and not so good days mixed in with cancer counts and banana pancakes, reading eggs and nosebleeds, horses and long drives and friendship and bullshit.

This hurts, you know? It sounds so juvenile but at a base level, cancer has hurt my feelings. It’s not fair. I’m not the type of person who gets sick young. I¬†sleep with men I shouldn’t,¬†get addicted to television series, love avocado and can catch the trickiest horses.¬†¬†Bailey’s not the type of kid who has a sick single Mum. He’s homeschooled, wants to be a ninja,¬†loses his brain on sugar and likes Adventure Time.¬†I have no idea what these ‘types’ are, I just know we’re not it.

It’s ok.¬†I’m as¬†ok as I can be. There’s no point being otherwise. Last year when I realised I’d been misdiagnosed, mistreated, could have been cured I fell into a hole over it. When I had to write an ‘impact statement’ I felt like I would explode before I got it down on paper. How do you add up hours driving to specialists, whole weekends away from my infant son after radiation, relationship breakdowns, seeing my father cry, the¬†loss of a lifestyle I worked hard for? How could I even halfway articulate how it affects me to know that Bailey didn’t have to know anything about this? That if I’d been diagnosed correctly I could have been in full remission before his first birthday?

These things happen, and no-one is to blame, and that’s the truth. I’ll admit to feeling some closure after seeing¬†my first Doctor, who has no bedside manner, didn’t listen to my concerns, and downplayed independent testing I had done, avoid eye contact until I actually¬†said ‘Fuck You’.

He apologised and it sounded sincere. And I know he would have been asked not to.

*****

So now, I just get to be brave. I’m choosing less treatment in favour of a life where I can play ponies and have my son at home directing his own learning, where we can grow things and take day trips. Where there’s room for coffee, hugs, sex, novels, stargazing. Where I have to be brave enough to deal with the possibility that this won’t pay off, that I may look back and wish I’d done more mainstream treatment. Sometimes,¬†when you have a gut feeling, you have to be brave enough to go with it.

Ash x

 

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