How do i do it?

 When my children were growing up, I had to tell myself on a regular basis that the years were finite. 

This had a two fold purpose: one, to enjoy every moment because it would never come again, and two, to be aware that these moments would pass and never be again.

The years were a tapestry of moments sewn together. Some good, some bad. Loneliness enmeshed with sheer joy and exhilaration at the task at hand. Hard work with added short lived passionate affairs, work that was unchallenging but easy to navigate given my circumstances. 

I get asked how I did it. And I find I seldom have an answer. It feels like I am almost at the end of the grueling part, and I find I don’t really know how I brought up two children on my own for 15 years. So, for the benefit of other sole parents, I decided to try to break it up.

The first three days were the hardest. It was the first time in my life that I had to depend solely on myself. No parents, no partner. There were friends, but at the time I didn’t have many, and some retreated from me as if they needed to take a stance and pick a side. I felt acute pain. It was physical and raw. It was so painful that I needed to do things to keep it at bay. That first night, as he drove away, the street flooded, and as I waded in knee deep water and sandbagged the neighbour's front door in the rain, I knew I would survive. I did break after that for a few days, but kept reminding myself of how strong I felt that night.

After three days, I got drunk. A terrible way to cope, I know, but it ended that sadness. I vomited all over the bathroom, and somehow, it helped me pull myself together somewhat. 

I sat down with myself and made decisions about my work. Emergency and shift work were not going to work for my young family, so I started looking for a family friendly job.

I had to tell the children that their parents were separating. Phoebe was almost 6 and she understood.  She cried and didn’t like the idea one bit, but I made a point of telling her that it wasn’t her fault, that both mummy and daddy loved her and that she would see daddy all the time. My ex didn’t have a house yet, but as soon as he did, they would go and stay. Dan was only 4 and he didn’t really understand,  I didn’t think. But after a few weeks of changing sheets at night again after months of being dry, I put him back in night nappies. I guess he did understand in some ways. I joined the COPE library, and took books out for myself on how to navigate legal aspects and the emotions rushing through me. I took out children's books, and read to the kids, which was incredibly therapeutic for me. 

I found myself a psychologist, and started seeing her for 2 and a half years. I had intended it to be a short stint.

Dan started having nightmares, and that was hard. He saw my psychologist for a few sessions, and she said he was well adjusted, and to encourage art. So, art materials were provided by the truckload and he was encouraged to express those emotions he has always kept to himself until very recently.

Phoebe seemed ok. She has always been an intellectualiser.  Her issues didn’t become evident until her world changed. She didn’t like change, and moving into a new house was very hard for her. I had ideas of travelling and living in a different city, but I decided that I needed to be a stable base, so decided I would not move from this house if I could help it. I was angry at having to be the grown up while my ex was off living a bachelor's life. This anger lasted years. But I eventually let it go, as it was not useful and all consuming. I surrounded myself with friends.  The kids' primary school was a wonderful source of support and I met wonderful long term friends who are still in my life. Thank goodness. They saved me. These people nurtured me, helped me, supported me, held me up, helped my children and shared their love with me and my kids. It was the best thing I ever did. I thank my lucky stars for these people every day. Without them, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. My sister came back from Perth some years ago, and I have added her to my network of valuable people. My mum still worked full time, but her partner and her provided me with a place for the kids when I wasn’t available, and they loved it! My ex mother in law did not withdraw her assistance, and once again, that was invaluable.

I decided that I would enjoy my children and still do all the things that families do. I took them away on cheap holidays. Last minute hotel deals, holiday packages, joined the scouts so we could go camping  and hiking and have adventures. I opted for optimism despite recurrent and chronic depression that would take me to the edge of despair on a regular basis. I got myself a GP, I put things in place so people would call me out if I was sounding depressed. My sister in Perth would pick it up easily. I got myself a shrink when the drugs stopped helping. I exercised regularly, and this was another saving grace for me, as I couldn’t have done any of it without physical fitness and it kept the black dog at bay. I only ever had to take a week off one time when I was so burnt out and depressed that I walked out of the clinic and decided not to return the next day and instead increase my antidepressants. 

On days when I would feel like a bad mother, I would allow myself to wallow. But only for one day. And then I would pick myself up, shake myself off and keep going. Who else have they got? Who do they rely on? Who is their rock?” My children have saved my life many times over the years, and I am so grateful for the gift of being their mum.

I learned to practice gratitude. I would find something to be grateful for, even on the darkest of days. A jacaranda in full bloom in a dark storm, an outing to the park to blow bubbles when strapped for cash, a zoo membership so we always had a free exciting place to visit, my health,  my strength and fitness, a fragrant candle lit in the evening, fresh eggs from the chooks, my children. Always my children. On days when I was so tired and I just wanted to scream, I would just make my coffee a bit stronger and sometimes have a little brief cry in the kitchen.  I wrote a lot. I did a lot of internet dating, with the mistaken idea that I would find a man to rescue me and make everything better again. That I would have a family again, and more children. But I needed to rescue myself, and I did. I learned how to. I kept this blog to remind me of what was good. And I listened to gems at work, people I worked with over the years and patients about how precious those years were, and not to waste them, be mindful,  carpe diem.

I used movies and television and books, and took wisdom from those places. Buffy was a great teacher to me, about relationships and learning about them. I grew up a lot. I was a 31 year old divorcee with two young children, and desperate to regain a nuclear family. It wasn’t to be for me. My lesson was in all of this instead. To learn to be happy with what I have. It is so much.

I read hundreds of books on child development and parenting, I attended positive parenting courses at the council. I hugged my children, I told them I loved them daily, twice daily. I helped with homework, I helped at school, I did reading. I lived with very little money, in exchange for being with them and enjoying being their mum. You don’t need a lot of money to create fun. We used the library and toy libraries a lot. We exchanged books at the book exchange. We used nature a lot, and made food from scratch. Baked bread and made pizzas. Anything can e special if you make it so.

I had a few relationships over the years,  but the biggest lesson for me was about self love, and learning about healthy relationships.  It was not something that came naturally to me, and after a few years, I gave up my pursuit for a relationship and settled instead on male company, not necessarily casual,  but serial monogamy,  I guess.

My animals became a huge aspect of my life, and I have learnt about respect, mutual affection, security and love from them. Unconditional love. Lucy is one of my best friends, and while this may sound pathetic to some, she is a constant. She has been by my side for 14 years. She greets me at the door every day, comes when I need to hug her (when she feels like it), sleeps next to me, sits near me when I cry, has taught me about unconditional love and mutual dependency.  She is here when my children are not, and has been my substitute when my kids have moved on to seeing their dad more. She's helped me to sit with grief as I cry all over her perfect coat.

She has taught me about beauty, and femininity. She is a goddess incarnate, and she will be the hardest thing to let go of as she ages.

So how did I do it? How do I still do it? 

I found myself and all my gifts, that’s how. I am a good friend, a good mother, a nurturer,  a goddess.

I never knew any of this about me at 30. None of this would have happened to me if my life had not hit rock bottom. And I would have missed out. 

If you are a sole parent, or have depression, or are simply sad today, make yourself go for a walk and find something to be grateful for while you are at it. I am so glad I did. I still do. And I am forever grateful for this life.

Connection

So maybe I am a very old fashioned soul, but I don’t understand what is happening to our world. I know that I have previously written about this topic, but I need to do it again.

Social media. What a crock, really. It is basically advertising, but with the added illusion that it is in fact truth.

As a single parent at the beginning of the new millennium, I find that the longer I am on my own, the more disconnected I feel from the rest of the world. People rarely post when they are feeling low, or worried, or sad, unless someone has died. Day to day sadness is never shared, only the funny or the poignant, or the happy. Because it makes people feel good.  And I fall for that trap too, because when you post something more serious or sad, or something that makes people uncomfortable, then people don’t “like” it, and you assume that people find you whiney, or self indulgent, or just simply don’t care about your pain, or your problems. Because, let’s face it, the majority of people on facebook don’t. That is the truth.

I doubt many people will read this, and those who do are the people that I will see in the next couple of weeks most likely, in real life; with real facial expressions, and attitude, and opinions that occur in real life and that they can’t censor before speaking them, nor edit them for correct spelling!!!

A few of you may know that I have been doing internet dating on and off for years. Because, this is the new way of meeting people, isn’t it? In the old days, you used to meet people at work, or at Uni, or at the pub. These days, no one is actually out there at the pub, and if  they are, they are too busy checking their facebook or their Tinder hits. I am disappointed, and I am sick of looking. Because when you write a profile or even chat to people online, they invariably put their best foot forward, and it takes time to get to know people. In reality, when the make up comes off, the nice clothes, and even, cough….the actual clothes, we are denuded, we are simply people who are looking for connection, love, romance, in a world that moves so fast that people walk into you at the shops, but not because they are charmingly awkward, but because they are staring at their phone!

What’s even more interesting, is that social media promotes certain standards for men and women. Be strong, don’t rely on others, always be beautiful, because, hey, who posts their daggiest selfie? Always be busy doing something and have it ready to upload, because you have a much more interesting life if you do, even though posting something semi interesting takes 2 minutes and the rest of the day you do mundane things like eating, and sleeping, crapping and dishes, washing, etc.

Maybe there is something wrong with me. I want real, I want faults, I want the smell of sweat on a hot day, and a nervous telephone call when a text message is easier. I am reminded of the movie Crash. People crave connection so much that they end up crashing into each other, or having thoughtless sex to feel liberated, to block out feeling. God forbid you might have feelings for others.

Why have we become so afraid of connection, of commitment, of touch? Why are we so afraid of so called “negative” feelings? Why is it desperate or sad to feel lonely? I like my own company, it’s true. But hell, I get sick of my own company, I get sick of always planning things on my own; I wish I could just pick up the phone like in the old days and say, ‘Hey, I’m off to the museum, wanna come?’

There are literally thousands of people sitting behind their computer right now craving exactly the same connection, and yet we seem to have lost the ability to go to a dance, or to socialize with others like people used to. We chat on the computer instead, fabricated threads of connection, imagining people that sometimes turn out to be completely different from what we imagined. And are then left again with the dissatisfaction. And when we do meet people in real life, we expect them to be perfect, to not snort when they laugh, to have a flat belly (even though they have given birth numerous times, and shit, everyone in their 40s and over has a stretched belly!!!), to make interesting conversation 100% of the time. I crave flaws, people. Bad breath (maybe not bad breath), but awkwardness, nerves, clumsy hand holding, and love that emerges from relating to people. All I can say is thank goodness for the friends I have made over the years through knowing them, talking to them day to day. I will keep the hope alive that one day I will meet someone in real life, and get to know them, and fall in love.

In the meantime, I will go along with this new wave of relating, I will log into that website, time and again, hoping….

Retreat into Myself

I have just returned from one of the most unforgettable 48 hours of my life. It so happened that my family bought me a gift voucher for my 40th birthday so that I could go on some meditation classes or a retreat. It turns out, (and I am sure it was not by accident), that the voucher was just enough for a hills retreat. I participated in a silent retreat, no phones, no books, no strict schedules. We had a cooking workshop (obviously voluntary) with an Ajurvedic chef. So I ate beautiful vegetarian food and spent time with myself, walking, feeling.

I am not new to meditation, I have done it before, and enjoyed it. I attended many sessions at the Buddhist Centre in Adelaide. I have been interested in Eastern philosophies and have taken a lot of the teachings into my life over the years.

But like everything else, I forget to do it. I get caught up in the moment, the hurrying, the hustle and bustle. And who doesn't? One of the great things about it is that I realised that I have incorporated some of the teachings into my life automatically. I wash the dishes purposefully and with awareness. I have learned to stop and say; "Can I get back to you on that ?" when I am feeling tired, rather than the shotgun; "I should say yes because he or she wants me there". I have learned to some extent to nurture aspects of myself that do not just need FOOD.

By the same token, I am somewhat frustrated by the fact that things I thought I had covered to death, I need to revisit and re-explore with more maturity, and more experience, and more depth. It just doesn't stop, and I think that is where I have gone wrong. I have managed to get my fitness regime going and have realised that it cannot be a temporary thing, but neither is the growth and development of my soul or inner being. Especially when life is not static, and my relationships and physical space shift me, toss me, and sometimes gently coax me into action. If I listen. And that is the crux of it. To listen.

But not just hear it. I am not sure if I am the only one who does this, but sometimes I hear the inner child, or the need loudly ringing in my ear, or my bed beckons, or I am starving or need to pee; and I simply choose to ignore it because it's just too inconvenient or too hard right now! So listening takes patience. And sometimes you just have to make the decision that you will ignore it temporarily but will get back to it before it is too late and the whole situation makes you sick. COUGH COUGH COUGH..... she says as she crawls back from the inner alveoli of hell...

So what I am getting to here is this:

I have decided that Facebook is slightly poisonous. And I know that the media app polarises people like Tony Abbott does. But I guess I have always kept it going because I accumulate so many people in my life and would like to keep in touch with them, as much as I can. And that is not always possible.

I find it terribly sad that recently because I have been busier than ever, I have stopped calling people and making an effort to connect. I mean REALLY connect. NOT on facebook, but on the phone, face to face, over a coffee. And I am lonelier than ever sometimes. My core people continue to be in my life and those are the ones I will continue to have real connections with, in real life.

And this is a survival tool for me. I NEED real people in my life, not pixels. Obviously, for those who live overseas or interstate, I will continue to keep in touch. I think I will slowly withdraw from this format, though. I want real connections, real warmth, real touch, real meals, real laughter, real visits, real shared times, real relationships.

And if you want my number, just ask.