Tag Archives: Loneliness

Happy Birthday Clint Eastwood

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The 31st May is Clint Eastwood’s Birthday.

And Brooke Shields,
Colin Farrell
Lea Thompson
Tom Berenger
Chris Elliott
Don Ameche
Walt Whitman
Denholm Elliott
Prince Rainier of Monaco
Jim Bolger
Tommy Emmanuel
Justin Madden
Corey Hart
Sarah Murdoch
and a few other peeps here and there.

Oh, and it’s mine.

But since my 40th Birthday, exactly five years ago, I no longer celebrate or even recognise it as a special day. I don’t answer the phone when it rings, I don’t check my Facebook until the very end of the day to thank any Birthday Wishes, I don’t accept any invitations to dinner or lunch, and generally I just ignore the day altogether.

This year I received just one card in the mail – from my ex-BFF’s Mum (not my own Mum).

My girlfriend Sally also dropped a card off to my place, on her way home from church. I took some two day-old soup to her place a couple of hours later and we watched the footy and crocheted in front of the fire. Max LOVES going to Sally’s house. He knows we’re heading there as soon as I turn off the highway and stands with his front paws on the dashboard.

And now it’s over, and I don’t have to feel the hurt and the reality of how alone I am – as polarised by a birthday – for another twelve months.

By which time,
I am planning on not living in the Purple House any more.

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Overcoming Hopelessness: Nick Vujicic

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Although my life has been far from idyllic, it certainly hasn’t been the trial that so many others on this planet suffer through.

I am genuinely grateful for that. However, I do have, and have had for nearly thirty years, a mental illness that has robbed my of my ability to view my life and life in general, in a true and clear manner. My vision of the world has been tinted with scratches and murky dark clouds. Clouds that became physical burdens often.

But I never stopped trying to find a solution to this situation – to the reality of my life. I kept trying and trying to find peace and maybe a speckle of happiness. I look at other sources outside my mind to generate calm and discover different points of view. I’ve heard this described as bravery or courage. To not succumb to the darkness.

I don’t think that’s what it is.

Although I no longer wake, disappointed to still be alive  – the truth is I don’t really have any passion for life. I have been banished from my nephews’ lives, my mother only remembers me when she needs something and all but a couple of friends have found my journey through Depression to be exhausting to the point of abandonment. Losing Horatio, then Jack ten months ago was in a way, the final straw in my connectivity to this world.

While I have a deep awareness of ‘Why’, it doesn’t alleviate the sting of the reality.

So, without a purpose or person or reason to ‘live’ I just muddle forward. I am building a website from scratch in the belief that one day it will provide a substantial income. I try to learn something new every day. I am building a kitchen, from the floor up. I have started a long-since dead practice of taking “Afternoon Adventures“. I Create something EVERY day. I blog. I watch. I view. I read.

Although there is no ‘happiness’ in my life I can claim to be ‘happi-er‘. And this is a grand victory against previous hopeless moments.

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Marriage

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Someone who admire quite a bit, because she is frank and honest and brave – just separated from her husband of 15 years.

In October 2012 her baby brother committed suicide, and she has been in deep, deep grief ever since. Her two young sons have weathered the storm quite well. Her friends have banded around her as best they could. And her husband?

I always wonder what people actually think Wedding Vows mean.

In sickness and in health?
Through the good times and bad?

Life is HARD
H.A.R.D.

It’s MUCH harder on your own – I know, I’m doing it.

And I just want to understand, if you only intend to hang around for the ‘good times’, then why go to the effort of getting married? Marriage is worth working to save. It’s precious, rare and incredible when truly valued.

It’s a gift that I am likely never to know.

So . . . .

. . . . if you are married, I am begging you – please realise that you have something so unique that many in the world will never know it. Never have it.

Please work at it.

Communicate with each other.
Be honest with each other.

Find a way to make it work.

Please.

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Losing

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Can you imagine being so lonely, that you crave physical contact?
Simple but small gestures like a hand on a shoulder or a brush of your arm?

And can you imagine how a soul would harden
when denied that contact?

When I lost Jack last May, I lost the one being on this Earth who still let me touch him. He would allow me to pick him, cradle him, cuddle him, stroke his back, massage his scalp, rub his ears.

He would let me love him.

And I loved him so much. More than I can express in mere words.
And I don’t care how pathetic that sounds to other people, because I had no-one else to touch. He was my last link to keeping an open heart.

Poor Max, HATES to be touched. He really isn’t comfortable at all being picked up or held or even stroked. I’m not allowed to touch his head – he ducks away – and he doesn’t like laying on my lap for a tummy rub. He just doesn’t like contact with humans. And because I love him, I respect that he needs his space.

I don’t have anyone to love.

The scab over my heart is so dense that there is
no salve,
no treatment
and no possible means of revival.

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My Beloved Jack

My Beloved Jack, just two nights before he died

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Max - 2015

Max – 2015

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My Boys . . . . 2009

My Boys . . . . 2009

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My Body Is Borrowed, My Mind Is Not

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I don’t know if I’m a fan of Beyonce.
My own prejudices and life-learned judgements impose themselves.
I’m not particularly proud of this.

But, I cannot deny her strength of character and her intelligence.

I was blown away by this mini-doco.
You will be too.

I hope.

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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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