Tag Archives: Loneliness

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I was rudely reminded this past week, as to why I have chosen to live online rather than in the real world. Why I not only feel, but am able to be my true self safely on the world wide web as opposed to being exposed to people who scheme, manipulate, lie and spy. I mean seriously! It’s exhausting being related to adults who behave like juveniles.

What healthy, caring human being stalks a family member online and yet never reaches out in real life? Who claims to all around them that they are supportive and present in someone’s life, with the sole purpose as to be perceived as loving, when they in fact do nothing of the sort?

A narcissist?
Someone shallow?
An arsehole?

You be the judge. I genuinely can’t be bothered anymore.

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19 Family Photos

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Poor Little Maxxy Moo

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This is the last photo I have of a 'healthy' Jack & Horatio

This is the last photo I have of a ‘healthy’ Jack & Horatio

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It’s been  six months I lost Horatio & almost six since I lost Jack.
And I still miss Jack so much. Less, but still a lot.

He use to let me love him.
i could hold him or rest him on my crossed legs and rub his tummy or chest or ears for hours.
He was such a beautiful, beautiful soul.

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My Beloved Jack

My Beloved Jack

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Although I still have Max, he has never liked being held let alone cuddled.
Poor little Max is so lonely.

And I am in so much pain, that I find it hard to leave my home.
Poor little Maxxy Moo.

Maxxy Moo

Maxxy Moo

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There are few things that make me angry enough to Hate. In fact I avoid using the word Hate at all costs as I believe we use it way too often in our language. But I can say that the thing that gets me angry enough to use the word Hate is Injustice.

I hate Injustice more than anything.

It is guaranteed to make me so angry that I can’t sit still when thinking or discussing the issue. It goes deep into my psyche that Injustice is so important to me. When I watch a documentary or read an article or hear an opinion, I just cannot contain my rage – I feel debilitated and utterly powerless.

Utterly!

When I was at University I once participated in a group activity designed to highlight how children in minorities feel in modern society. It’s a pretty famous group activity called “Blue Eyed”. The participating group, in our case it was 28 peeps, is then split into smaller sub-groups. Each sub-group is given a set of standards that define them. Eye colour, hair colour, description of housing and level of education. Areas of the classroom were then delineated as socially accepted areas of popular culture; banks, universities, employment, clubs, special groups. The objective of the ‘game’ was to attain as much wealth as possible by using the defined standards.

Can you guess which sub-group I was assigned to?

Yep. I was placed in the most disadvantaged group. As a collective we were repeatedly told that we could not have access to a resource or join a group or be enrolled in an institution. The Lecturer concluded the activity when he discovered I was planning a coup. I’m not exaggerating! I got so pissed off at the Injustice of it all, that I pulled aside everyone in my sub-group and pointed out that we were in effect being barred from every possible opportunity and therefore our only means of progress was to take what we wanted by force. I was never sure if the Lecturer had placed me in the lowest sub-group deliberately or if it had been pure coincidence.

I have always had a keen sense of trying to be fair and balanced. Seriously. I still try to do as much with my left hand as my right hand, simply because I don’t want my left hand to feel it has lesser value to me. I also named one of my earliest stuffed toys with a ‘weird’ name, Mushka, because I wanted my world to be varied and unbiased by my Western upbringing.

I was 8!

And so my journey on this Earth is quite strongly defined by sense of being fair and balanced.
Being Just.

So you can imagine, that in the world we live in, where the stupidity of the masses and the ego of politicians and the control of big business all rule – that my mind is in constant conflict and where my Clinical Depression has the potential to fester and grow bigger, each and every day.

And to live each day feeling and thinking like this, without the love of a Mother or Father or siblings or nephews and nieces or even just one truly close friend – is bleak.

Bleak and lonely.

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But still,
I get up every day and try to be happy and make things and be Creative and try to find small wonder in the clouds or flowers or a child’s laughter.

I am trying to educate myself to fully appreciate the truth about the world and civilisation, and how enlightened people actually survive this Unjust world. How the truth of human behaviour and it’s need to be collectively controlled by religion and/or borders and/or cultural identity: is in fact a state that has existed since we first became bipedal hunters and gatherers at least 40,000 years ago.

And that those who can recognise the truth of Human Behaviour, and their propensity to repeat all successes and failures generation after generation, manage to find solace and fulfillment and peace by eking out their own version of a Happy Life.

I am trying.
Each day.

What Is Love?

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“I love you whether or not you love me
I love you even if you think that I don’t
Sometimes I find you doubt my love for you, but I don’t mind
Why should I mind?

Can anybody love anyone so much that they will never fear?
Never worry, never be sad?
The answer is; they cannot love this much
Nobody can
This is why I don’t mind you doubting

And maybe love is letting people be just what they want to be
The door always must be left unlocked
To love when circumstance may lead someone away from you
And not to spend the time just doubting”

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My Cuddle Buddy

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I am missing Jack so terribly this week.

You see, Jack was the only being in my Universe who I was able to cuddle. Although towards his end days, he wasn’t altogether keen, he would still allow me to pick him up, rest him against my chest and nuzzle his head under my chin. In previous healthy years, he would even put both paws either side of my neck and then rest head his on one of my shoulders, sort of snuggling into me.

And now I have no one left to hold. Although I still have Max, he really dislikes being picked up let alone held. 

So this past week, I have needed to cherish someone.
And my Jack isn’t here.

And I miss him.

Jack, just before he rested his head on my shoulder - Age 10

Jack, just before he rested his head on my shoulder – Age 10

Thank You Universe

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I just didn’t see today coming.
At all !!!

More than two weeks ago, I had offered to do some rigorous gardening at a H’s house, as she and her family were in the process moving after five years in one house – to their very own freshly built, home. And after five years, the garden needed a general prune and tidy-up. No probs. I’ve got the arms, skills and tools for the job. It will take me no more than a morning to do the whole from yard.

But then Jack died, and I fell into a massive BLACK hole.
MASSIVE.
BLACK.
HOLE
An emotional vortex.

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I haven’t been able to speak to anyone this week. Not by voice or email or even text message. I’m not coping. Derr!

And then I just told myself, that I was going to spend Thursday morning working at my girlfriend’s garden. No excuses. No alternatives. No hiding under the doona until after lunch. I just got up at 9am (just!) and headed out. I filled a plastic bags with garden tools; garden scissors, secateurs, a weed prong, some kole beer & cheetos. I bundled Max into the car and we headed down the road.

And when Max & I got to H’s home, I was forced to do something I really didn’t want to do.

Talk.

H kept probing me, asking me how I was and gently reiterated that she was “here” for me. I on the other hand, attempted to change the subject, repeatedly, but only managed it a few times. I implied and then said outright, that she didn’t want to get involved with me, especially when I am depressed. It is exhausting being around ‘depressives’. The very nature of depression saps the brightest light out of the strongest of souls. I have a litany of lost friends and family from my years of depression.

But, she wouldn’t have a bar of it.

So she let me speak, and listened to my vague arguments and let me cry – as I hacked and chopped at the row of cordylines in her front yard. My eyes were red and my hands were very sore at the end of it all. I am actually disappointed that I didn’t take a couple of before and after photos. What surprised me, is that I truly believed what H was trying to say to me.

She genuinely wanted to include me in her and her family’s lives, despite my depression. She wanted to be of help to me. She really absolutely wanted to offer me support!
I am still coming to grips with this reality.

But, my day of the Positive Universe didn’t end there.

6:00pm this evening, another friend, M, dropped in. She is going through a messy divorce with a man who has no control over his language, temper or life choices. He’s a total dropkick (believe me, we called him a lot worse!). She spent a good hour regurgitating his latest abusive rant. This guy would make Idi Amin blush when he’s in one of his moods. Put downs, name calling, lies, general abuse and death threats – he’s a real charmer!

And if I’m being honest – which is the priceless nature of my blog – I didn’t really want to hear it. But, a shift happened. I listened to her, and reiterated some important facts back to her. I agreed with her and challenged her when she started to concur with her psycho ex’s point of view. And then BLAM she flipped the conversation directly back to me and my depression.
And as I talked I wept. Streams of salty aqueous dripped off my chin as I tried to at first to disguise and then describe my all-encompasing pain. My utter loneliness and lost sense of self.

She didn’t shy away or offer insincere solace.

I don’t know why the Universe sent me these two Amazons my way today. I’m just in awe that it did.
I feel a slight sense of peace – just the tiniest sliver – piercing through my armour.

Thank you Universe.

Thank you.

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A Trickle Of Hours

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It’s absolutely bucketing-down outside.
Cats and dogs.

It’s only 11pm, but I’m hitting the hay early tonight.

I didn’t go to bed last night.
I stayed awake the whole night.
Then kept working all day.
It’s not an unusual occurrence.

I cleaned,
and organised and vacuumed and tidied.
I’m just a little proud of myself.

And it all means nothing.

I turn 44 in eight days.

Probably,
with my genetic lineage,
exactly half way through my life.

And I honestly feel, that given the reality of human existence, it can be argued that I have put in more effort than most. To live. To REALLY live.

Against the tide of my poisonous family, and a weak society that attacks my kind:
The gentle, loving, creative and generous.
The one without guile or malice.

So if my next chapter in life fails.
It will be by final chapter.

I will try one last time
to stay alive.

Then I am leaving.

Because living in this much pain,
with a truly shattered heart
and only dogs to love,
isn’t living.

It is just existing.

And,
if when it is done,
I am 45,
or 55,
or 85
– I would have done my best.

And I would have earn the solace of the longest sleep.

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