Tag Archives: Alcoholism

A Quiet, Polite Girl

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Like any normal human, I have ‘baggage’.

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‘Issues’ from my past that crop up from time to time, affecting my present life. Although it is true, that I have made more of an effort than most (especially in my family) to reconcile myself with painful elements of my younger years, in truth, I am actually crap at this whole ‘Life’ thing.

You see I was of the Generation that . . . . .
. . . was brought up to never say “No” to an adult, to keep quiet when being scolded, to just accept mistakes made by others (including food orders at a restaurant), to never whinge and to always offer to help others even if it came at a personal cost.

I also grew up in a fairly religious and socially narrow household. I was brought up to believe that I HAD to wear my long hair ‘up’ (in a ponytail) except when you went to church (as opposed to school, going to a friend’s or to a birthday party), that wearing makeup before you were 18 made you a harlet, that popular music was anti-christian (and was definitely forbidden on Sundays), that kissing boys led to sex, and that sex was a dirty and painful business.

Even more acutely, as the eldest of four children I had a unique set of expectations put upon me, like; keep the younger ones safe, if the younger ones are naughty – I get in trouble, I had to lead by example, the ‘rules’ were toughest on me (as the first) and, I had to mature the quickest.

By the age of nineteen I was aware that my family life was pretty skewed and having lived through some fairly violent behaviour from our brother, the estrangement from our narcissistic father, bouts of depression + alcoholism + an attempted suicide by our mother (on the eve of my nineteenth birthday), and pretty severe poverty – my sisters and I were in bad shape.

And the tragedy is – from 1989, when I turned nineteen & my sisters were eighteen & sixteen – my two sisters and I all had to forge a life. A life based on a lot of pain and disassociation. The friendships and romantic relationships we made from that point, are what guided us to be the women we are today. Like every other person walking this Earth, some of those connections were pretty awful. And they had longterm repercussions.

I personally think that both my sisters have ‘issues’ that they are not able to face let alone deal with – but that’s life.
Isn’t it?!?

As 2014 comes to a close, despite the one thousand stories and one million thoughts that I still want to document and share, I am choosing a new direction for my life.

I will be saying “No” & “Fuck Off” a lot more often.
To all the negatives and all the bullies and to all of the elements of this world that have in the past, sucked the lifeblood from my soul, to the “Might over Right” mentality that we live amongst – I am saying “Fuck right off!!!”.

I will be prioritising my health and my happiness.
My little Purple Paper House will become my number two goal.

And after that?
I don’t know.

But I am full of intention to use the second half of my life, to be filled with Joy and the Wonder I once had oozing from me. I will find a way to make my Dreams come true.

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%22Roar%22 Quote

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Man Therapy

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I think it is well established that
a) I have a sense of humour
b) I have Clinical Depression
c) I like helping people

In that spirit –
* if you’re a bloke,
* with a mental health issue
(now or in the past)
* you still have a diaphragm with which to laugh
* you actually DON’T WANT to have a mental health issue
(now or in the future),
. . .
then check out this site.

You’ll bloody piss yourself laughing.

THE Office

THE Office

Seriously – go now!

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Managing My *Asthma*: Part 1

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I believe that I am very responsible
in facing and dealing
with my *asthma*.

I have never pretended that I don’t have *asthma*.
I have NEVER pretended that I am ‘cured’.

I acknowledge that *asthma*
is a legacy of my childhood
and is probably hereditary.

I take my preventative medication,
and do my best.

BUT . . . . . . . . . .
there is so much more I can
(and do)
do for myself to help keep my *asthma* under control. .

Here are some of techniques I use . . .

– – – – – 1 – – – – –

For years and years,
I have kept a close eye on my alcohol intake.

I have a rule – that I am not allowed to drink at home,
alone.
Alcohol is a BIG part of my childhood,
and using it as a crutch is not an option.

I am also acutely aware of the physical effects
it has on my own *asthma* symptoms.
Instead, I choose to partake of a tipple on certain occasions
always with another person – a social drink!

– – – – – 2 – – – – –

Quite by accident,
I discovered that I had invented a wonderfully joyous manner
in which to deal with incidental bouts of *asthma*
with this simple technique . . .

Look Up!

When I was in my 20’s
I would quite often stop and look up.

At the clouds in contrast with the blueness of the sky.

I love looking at the different types of clouds.
It spins me out that they can be so different and mean such different things

Cirrus spissatus undulatus

Cirrus spissatus undulatus

Source

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I regularly stop to look at a flock of birds moving.

Where are they going?
Are they migrating?
Are they just stretching their wings?

Specifically, I am always on the lookout for Wedgetailed Eagles,
as they are a majestic bird.
I LOVE them.

Wedgie

A Wedgie launching

Source

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– – – – – 3 – – – – –

I read.

Books have always been a MASSIVE part of life.

I was a High School Library Teacher for 15 years.
My Mum was a Librarian for over 30 years.
I have always collected childrens’ Picture Books for myself
– they’re so beautiful, and magical, and funny!!!

My favourite fiction genres are:
* Horror
* Crime
* Adventure
* Supernatural
* Romance
* Historical

However,
lately I have reading a totally different ‘kind’ of book.

I guess you would categorize them as “Self Help”,
but they are a bit less generic than that,
for me anyway.

It started with,
“I Quit Sugar”, by Sarah Wilson.
Then I read,
“Sweet Poison”, by David Gillespie
and then,
“Make Every Man Want You” by Marie Forleo
and also,
“She Took On The World”, by Natalie MacNeil

I Quit Sugar

I Quit Sugar

I have also begun reading some journals for the first time in 20 years.
Particularly, I have read “New Scientist” & “Time”.

And what impact has this re-immursion into reading had?

I have had to learn to face
some seriously difficult aspects of my personality
and reminded me that my ‘journey’ if far from over.

However,
these written materials have also given me a number of new tools to use,
and have ultimately led me to believe that it is time,
once again,
for me to start seeing a psychologist.

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– – – – – * – – – – –

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MM*A*: Pt 2

may include
Creativity

Exercise
Meditation/Yoga
Incense
Drastic diets
Groups

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I am so tired

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of being the only sane adult in my family.

Seriously why would my sister – who happens to be studying for her Doctorate in Psychology – tell my Mum what I had written in a text message? Especially when it could be seen as undermining?

Why is my Mum now saying that she wasn’t trying to commit suicide?

Why hasn’t my other sister tried to contact us about the incident, when she has been notified?

Why does this keep happening?

Big Enough

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I came across this tweet today . . .

 

Big Enough

 

. . . . and it made me realise that the bullies didn’t win when they took away my job.

They won when I stopped blogging!

And in reality, I need this blog more than I need that job.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Yesterday my Mum attempted suicide.

She didn’t mean it of course, she was just indulging in self pity.
She’s done it before.

This time it was seven days before Christmas,
last time it was the night before my 19th birthday.

I feel very tired of having to deal with her dramas.
It’s exhausting.

I tried so hard this year to help her through rehab.
I spent money I didn’t have and time I couldn’t afford,
driving two and a half hours to see her and visit her in hospital.
I rang her a minimum of once a day.
I cleaned her flat and did all her gardening.

Even when she fell off the wagon and lied to me about it,
I still supported her and remained non-judgemental.

She REFUSED to tell any of her family and friends and
she refused to ask either of my other sisters to support her.

It was all up to me.

And it was fucking exhausting.

And now – she needs me AGAIN and I am so tired.

And They Wonder Why!

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On Saturday night I took my Mum to a game of Bingo.
Not your usual ‘granny style’ bingo – no,
this was Bogan Bingo.

Bogans? No – just a pair of “wanna be’s”

Lots (LOTS) of swearing.

The F word was the most common
and the C word came out twice.
Lots of flannelette shirts and ugg boots.

Quite a few ‘mullet’ wigs as well.

I saw a lot of people I knew.
Mostly local business owners.
Lots of really decent family-oriented folks.

B – the husband
FYI the tattoos, not real!!!

There were some fun games throughout the evening including an ‘air guitar competition.

The prize?
A 96cm flat tv.
Three contestants.
One eventual winner.
And his prize stunned us all.

The letters “TV” cut out of 3mm mdf at the height of 96cm.
The whole room erupted with laughter!

A few other games were played during the evening,
including bingo (which inconsequentially I had never played before)
and fun was had by all.

There was one really sour note to the evening however.
And dammit, I didn’t get a photo of it or the culprit using it.

A drinking funnel.

No link for this one – I’m not promoting this crap

A retard of a human being brought, used and ‘shared’ the funnel all evening.
One whole stubby of beer went into the funnel and 3 seconds later,
it was in the gullet of some poor already inebriated fool.

He used peer pressure
(as opposed to Pia pressure)
to make others at his table and around the room
consume 375ml of beer at a dangerously (stupidly)  fast pace.

Binge drinking had their poster boy.
A Brian Mannix **  looking gnome,
who bullied others into killing more brain cells.

Although there was no one under the age of 18 at the event,
it’s not hard to see how binge drinking survives so well in our society.

I was desperate to say something
but knew I would be put down as the “Fun Police”,
and ridiculed.
Every one else knew it too.

The tragedy?

The real tragedy
is that the evening was a fund raiser for junior football in our town!

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** Brian Mannix is a dude & a legend
– the comparison is purely physical,
certainly  not moral or character.

What a little spunk!