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.

1 pixel, 2 pixels, 3 pixels....

So what are we witnessing? We are approximately one month into an experience we prepared for back in 2009, with trepidation,  expecting H1N1 to be the one that caused the pandemic we were due to have. It fizzled. So part of me was thinking that this would fizzle too, in the beginning.

And yet here we are. Over a million people around the world have now had this disease and thousands have died. Yes, other things kill people. But not usually this fast nor efficiently.

In Australia,  we are at a crossroads. We have managed to somewhat contain this. It has slowed its spread and is no longer razing through  people like pixels in a Lord of the Rings epic battle scene. So now, what do we do? Economic predictions and mathematical models fill the media. Doctors talk about access to care and availability of ICU beds, access to protective equipment for those of us who will be caring for the ill. Economic gurus watch the stock market and try to predict just how big a crash we can expect.

It seems if we save people, we lose money.   So, we will eventually lose more people, slowly; to poverty, disease, domestic violence and crime. And if we don't save people, we retain some money. A sacrifice. We expend people in order to retain some of our comforts. An uncomfortable crossroads, a historic one. No doubt generations will analyse, scrutinise and judge every decision that is made from now on.

It feels surreal and eerie. People are on edge, irritable, nervous. It feels like a battleground at dawn. The mist settling over the pristine leaves, cleansed by the lack of petrol fumes. The streets are deserted and more populated by birds and other critters that roam without fear.
We are insects suspended on the surface of a perilous lake. All it needs is for a little bit of soap to break the surface tension and we ALL fall in..

I wish I could take a peek into the future. Will this very wise bug divide us all as it has over the last month, or will we unite and live to see another day?

Like all wars, a lot of us won't get to see the end.  And it seems so selfish to wish for our own safety and those we love ahead of the many who will perish. It will be someone's mum, dad, child, cousin,  work colleague. People will talk about the many that COVID19 took before a vaccine was available.

No doubt humans will live on. We have done it before. It's the individuals,  the little grains of sand like me, who may not get to see the outcome. Or maybe we will, and rebuild.

What will life be like?

Only a month ago, our wheel of progress was turning and everyone was head down in their own priority: make money, buy a house, have a holiday. And now, we cower in silence. Silenced by a minute and insignificant speck that will FINALLY make us reconsider our values and morals as humans.

If the past is anything to go by, we may learn nothing. But what is certain is that my life will never be the same again. The aftermath of what is happening now will be felt for generations.

I saw a little girl and her father at the lights today. She would have been no more than 6. She approached the lights and she hesitated because she didn't want to touch the button to cross the road. She looked up at her father and he used his foot to push it.

We will have people who may grow up with a much larger sense of personal space,  or hygiene. New words are already emerging and new terms will no doubt enter the everyday. Maybe we will have greater empathy for others. Or will it all be forgotten? The "it's all about me" hoarding and consuming locust viewpoint may just prevail for more years to come.

Part of me wishes that we would just all collapse in a heap and finally become extinct. The truth of the matter is that nature is older than time, and is just dealing a well rehearsed hand and has lived to see the outcome. She presses on, unheeded and yet undeterred.

I am just a speck, a pixel.

 But a flake of snow or gust of wind can cause an avalanche, just look at Covid 19! Think of that. What do you want your legacy to be? What do you want generations in the future to say about you? Be the strongest, most righteous and powerful pixel you can possibly be. The eyes of history are on us.  Because one thing is for sure. This is real, it's happening. Stand up.

Dear Time

Dear Time,

I have only known your new year for a very short while but I feel like I know you already, as you seem very similar to other years I have had before. However, since I am a good sport, I will pretend that I don’t know you and give you the benefit of the doubt.

I only ask that you take my wishes into account for this year.

You see, I think that I need a different sort of year. I mean, don’t think I’m being ungrateful. I am very grateful for a lot of things in my life, and these are just wishes. I don’t want anything taken away, I want it at all as it is, but I just wanted to make some helpful suggestions for the future, and hope that you will take them into account when planning my trajectory for 2016.

I am not sure what sort of groundhog day loop I’m stuck in, but it seems that toughness, resilience and strength are the only things I need on a day to day basis, and I continue to be tested on them. I’m starting to think that this, Time, is a bit of a waste of resources when it comes to the events department of your, should we call it, company. You see, I think I have proven time and again how tough and resilient I am. I think it is about time that you focus on some of the other things that I am.

I am not trying to tell you how to do things, as I am aware that you will do as you please. But I think you should know that I would like my love and caring, and nurturing to be more of a part of my life. Test me on that, I think I deserve that for a change.

Maybe you’d like to test how creative I can be, or how optimistic.

I already have a sore foot to Rehabilitate, and I don’t want that to be the main thing in my life this year. It’s already taken too much precious time and energy.

I’d like you to test me on my softer side. I do have one, you know. I am just squishy in the middle, and I think I am starting to forget it, and others can’t see it either because it lies forgotten in some far away dream. I ask that you allow it to shine. Maybe my future holds a lovely man who wants to share my softer side, and not just see the tough exterior that has been so necessary for such a long time. Let me have enough money to meet all my responsibilities, but also have a lot of time and energy for fun, for carefree irresponsibility. I so long to be just a little irresponsible sometimes. Not in big things, you know I would never do that, but in little things. Please.

Keep my beautiful girls safe, you know I would give a limb for them both, and I can’t help but think; despite my scientific brain; that this is in fact a price I am paying, this is me giving a limb for them. And if that’s the case, I would gladly give a second.  So all of the above is null and void if I am required to give a second limb for one of those precious creatures.

But if not, then please think upon it. I am looking forward to this new year. I hope it will continue to be full of friends and family and good memories. I promise I will do my part and seek out things that may expose my softer side, and I will step more carefully. (Metaphorically and not metaphorically).

I thank you in advance, and hope that we are together for a long while yet.

Sincerely,

Me

My right foot

21/10/15

Sometimes when I look at my life, I feel like I am reading about it in the paper, or in one of those sensationalised magazines: ‘My bridesmaid is having my fiancée’s love child’ or something.

Maybe not, but now that I am sort of on the outside looking in, it looks kinds Jerry Springerish.

A single mum to two teenagers, who works FTE (1.2), runs a household, looks after 4 animals. She is renovating her house; the stove breaks down, leaving the family without a kitchen. Then she falls over and breaks her foot, which requires surgery. As a result, she is unable to stay in her house because of her ridiculous driveway so she has to stay with her mother. On top of this, she was due to start a new job just prior to the injury, so she is under pressure to return to work asap, but can’t drive, because it happens to be her right foot.  And she is unable to return to one of her jobs due to the circumstances.

It just sounds like something someone made up for fooks sake…..

Nevertheless, this has been an interesting opportunity to review my life from the outside. After all, the universe simply granted my wish to have a holiday from my life. Given that I am so busy, I never really have the time to sit and contemplate whether what I am doing is sustainable, or whether there are other ways I could be doing it. Plus, I often find myself with few alternatives anyway.

The weirdest thing, and one of the most valuable lessons for me is the fact that I don’t think I will ever be lazy again about things that I need to do. For example, washing the dishes, doing the washing. It seems that the perceived effort when I was healthy seemed over the top. Everything takes so much longer now, given that an at least a 6 point turn is required in order to get around any corner in the house. Walking to the shops, or cooking a meal just doesn’t seem onerous at all. The other thing I have discovered is that I love driving, and being able to have the freedom to come and go as I please. And also, no matter how much free time I have, I don’t spend all of it doing crafts or reading, I do find myself looking at medical journals (which I never have time to do) and writing.

I haven’t been short of things to be grateful for, and that feels great. My friends and family have been so nurturing, and helpful, and altogether awesome, and I feel so very lucky to have so many wonderful people in my life.

What seems clearest of all is that Wi-Fi is evil and will need to be restricted when we go home, and that my children need to do more around the house, not because I say so, or because it happens to be their dish, but because it is a lesson they better learn now, about living in a community and helping each other out. If I only ever did things for myself, I would still be in my backyard with a broken foot and no one to help me.

People are veritably strange, and I have greater compassion for people with a disability now. The number of people who are irritated by the fact that moving takes longer, or that I need a ramp or take up more room in a lift or on the bus is unbelievable. The number of people who roll their eyes at me, or tell me that I should be more careful or whatever is also astounding.  What do they think that I am ecstatic about it? Losing my independence, using a shower chair to wash, a toilet raiser to pee and take two buses to work, not to mention calling in favours all the time and being unable to pick my kids up from school?

Maybe my foot will heal and I will forget these lessons, but I doubt it.

Christmas will be a time to reflect on the 3 months prior to it, to be grateful, to regain all the losses, including a tall order of Rehab and further surgery to remove pins. I sincerely love my right foot despite all the challenges. 

Forgetting in my old age

I lost my way. I am not sure when it happened exactly, or how long ago. But I lost my way.
I stopped trusting, believing in myself. I started doubting, and wondering if what I was doing was the wrong thing. How on earth did that happen? I worked really hard to find that strength in me, and I am a tad disappointed in myself.

I took stock in the last few weeks, and realised that my self love: the one that says that I will accept me regardless of the number on the tag of my clothes, or the size of the dark circles under my eyes, or the tone of my teens voices, had disappeared. That love that would echo my thoughts, and say: "Of course you know what to do, and if you don't, you'll find out!". Damn it!!!! How could I forget?
I guess sometimes it happens because you get knocked down over and over again, and the last time, you allow it to make you lie down for a while. And then you simply forget you fell over, you just stay there and allow people to walk all over you.

I realised mostly when I was preparing to update my blog, and was thinking about the piece I was going to write. And then I looked at it in my mind, and it sounded whingie. Fuck, when did I get whingie? When on earth did I become a martyr, a "poor me" type? NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! I refuse to be that woman, no matter what the pressure remains for feminine women to appear to need to be rescued. I refuse to stay lying down.

So shit has happened, so life is hard. So what? No one ever said it was meant to be easy, and haven't I always thrived under pressure? When did the anxiety consume me rather than fuel me?
I need to start saying: "Good morning, the sun is shining, and I am alive". And "what will I teach my children today?". Lately, the self talk has been more like: "I cannot teach my children anything else", "I have had my time, I am no longer useful". Since fucking when????????

My message here is, that no matter what, I will always be worthy. So, okay, my relationships have mostly not worked out, my preferred career wasn't to be, and internet dating has mostly sucked, I haven't finished my book, my serial attempts at shrinking my arse have resulted in a tight, but large arse. But the point is: I AM ALIVE, I have people who love me and appreciate me (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, YOU PRECIOUS FEW), I am still useful, I am still learning, I am still writing, I am still going to the gym and watching what I eat, I am still dating, and I am still hoping, and loving, and making my life worthwhile.
Next time I tell myself otherwise, someone please shake me! And my hope is that people genuinely never stop talking about hard stuff, the stuff that really matters. Let's not become a society where these topics are taboo. Life sucks most of the time, let's acknowledge it, let's deal with it. Hug someone, be someone's strength when they are low. I know without those people who continue to be my strength I wouldn't be writing these words today.

Strength, vulnerability and Christmas love

It has occurred to me that there is a big difference between being strong and having feelings that make you vulnerable and make you human.
I think it was Buffy the Vampire Slayer who was the first person to ever make me think about this (;)), and recently I have experienced it first hand.
I have had to learn self reliance, yes. I have had to distance myself emotionally from my patients in order to cope with some pretty deep feelings. And maybe I spend too much time doing that. Maybe it is not a bad thing for my children to see me acting like a fishwife every now and again and losing the plot: not always calculated and measured. Maybe it's good for them to see that their mother is human, and vulnerable, and ok the next morning, like that oak tree.
I think the hardest thing is the feeling of falling in a whirlpool and losing control. Nothing a big cry and a sincere phone call to a friend does not fix.
Which brings me to my Christmas wish: I hope that this Christmas I can simply be thankful for all I have. Not the material stuff, not the stuff with price tags; but the knowledge that when I'm really in trouble, I've got at least 5 phone numbers I can try before I need to resort to kicking the punching bag. And my health, my ability to face another year with my health. reasonably intact. Thank you to all those I love, my family, my kids, my friends, my animals. Because they are what makes getting up every morning worthwhile. And if this makes me a little vulnerable and shed a few tears at Christmas, so be it. I plan to embrace my vulnerability in 2015. It's part of me. Love, Yellowfluff. ❤️fi