Access Rant

You know what I wish they'd teach in schools? AUSLAN. Instead of teaching languages we're not likely to use (yes, and ok I know we are a multicultural country and being able to communicate with each other is a good thing, but this is known as an English speaking country where English is the predominant language so hear me out!) why don't the powers that be make it a prerequisite that Auslan is added to the curriculum? Auslan can be universal. Auslan uses symbols so that if English is not your first language then ALL of us get the general gist of what we're saying to each other!

The reason I am up in arms about this is that we have a colleague here who is Deaf. He is awesome. I love him to bits. He needs to attend meetings of all sorts but cannot participate to capacity unless there are Level 3 interpreters available to interpret everything for him. Of course you have to PAY for this service....and the costs are quite pricey. My colleague is given a budget for interpreting services but he runs out of that quickly. We went through the DHS credit line with a certain service so we could get interpreters for free but they just give you very second rate interpreters to the point where the interpreters don't know how to accurately sign what is being said. It sucks.

So, which brings me to my point. It would be AWESOME if we all knew basic communication in Auslan - not just the alphabet. Who wants to s-p-e-l-l o-u-t e-v-e-r-y w-o-r-d i-n a s-e-n-t-e-n-c-e? Why can't we start earning Auslan in kindergarten?  Makaton is often used in some childcare centres and kindergartens, so I think it would be great to extend this! I want to talk to my Deaf colleague. I want to just be able to go to him and tell him that we're out of milk and can he please go and buy us some? Or that I had an awesome weekend at the MBS Festival, or that my daughter is in the middle of exams. He and I get by, but often it's awkward and I feel rotten for not being able to communicate effectively with him. He appreciates people at least attempting - even if you mime to him. But if I had've been taught Auslan at school, rather than a smidgin of French, a smattering of German and two and a half years of Indonesian (which I've found totally useless and a complete waste of everyone's time!) both he and I......and many of the other Deaf people we encounter here on a weekly basis......would be able to communicate more effectively on a daily basis.

And while I'm at it.

Physical access. Lifts and ramps........ALL buildings should have them........and in easy to find locations........not round the corner, down the lane, through the freight access. They should be located at the FRONT of the building where everyone else enters so that EVERYONE can enter a building with dignity, not just as a second thought.

Access Toilets. They are for people with access requirements. Not for you to meet with your boyfriend or your girlfriend or random to get in a quick 5 minute bonk. Not for you to smoke a joint in or get drunk in or sleep in. Not for you to spend time fixing your makeup. Yes I know you might be in a hurry and you need to pee just as much as a person with a disability, but you can just go into a loo, unzip your pants and go. A person with a disability may not have the luxury of doing these things quickly and easily....or even without assistance.....so waiting outside the occupied Access Toilet to find someone walking out with no obvious access requirement REALLY pisses people off! (ok, I understand needing to inject yourself with insulin. This counts as an access requirement!) If you don't have a SPECIFIC access requirement which means you NEED to use the Access Toilet - please use the other loos, because.....you can.......and you can have your choice of ANY of the 6 to 12 cubicles available. Unfortunately, those with access requirements only have ONE choice - even if it's filthy dirty and filled with cigarette butts - or WORSE!

Access Parking Spots. I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE ONLY GOING TO BE FIVE MINUTES! If you don't need it, don't park there! I've got a Disabled Person's Parking Permit in my car, but it's not for me........so I park elsewhere when it's just me in the car because I can walk the distance between the carpark and the shops. When I have people in my car for whom the permit is for, then I use the Access Parking spaces. Access Parking Spaces are NOT loading zones. Truckies, don't park behind people in the Access Parking Bays to offload your freight. They need to get out at a time it's convenient to THEM - not to you. Just like everyone else who drives.

If we all just extended a little common courtesy to our fellow human being, disabled or not, then the world would be a much better place.

Rant over.

*Disclaimer*

You may have noticed that I have refered to the "disabled toilets" as Access Toilets. This is my acknowledgement that it is not just people with obvious disabilities who use these facilities. Often there are no Family or Parent Toilets/Bathrooms provided therefore it makes sense to me that having a baby or a toddler with you means that you have an Access Requirement and should therefore be entitled to use the Access Toilets/Bathrooms.

*Disclaimer #2*

I never question a person with a Disability Parking Permit displayed on their vehicle, even if (to me) they don't "look disabled" when they get out of their car. What I get riled about is when there is NO permit displayed at all.

The road to the mirror

What a journey this past 15 months has been. Realisations and reflections and facing up to some things with the benefit of having the space to do it has ensured that I am in a much better place than I've ever been in my entire adult life.

I feel free in more than one aspect. The biggest thing has been freedom from the religious ideals and ways of thinking that, in my ignorance, I thought were SO RIGHT. Not just so right, but the ultimate and only truth. I'm still not entirely sure of what I actually do believe, but in my own heart and spirit and mind I feel that there is a Creator God. Of that I feel certain. There is just too much order and symmetry and design in everything for me to think that it all "just happened". So, for me, that's part of my truth at least.

I've come to think that now I've left the hierarchical and organised place I called church that I have been a judgemental person, simply because life was divided into what was right and what was wrong - people who were right behaved like "this" and people who were wrong behaved like "that". I judged myself according to those standards. I harshly judged others according to the same standards and in the end there were no winners because none of us are anywhere near capable of living up to them.

I harshly judged my husband daily. Out of my own insecurities I expected him to never forget his shortcomings. If I was motivated by love, then I should have just let him walk his own path and concentrated on my own healing journey. I needed to be the change I wanted to see in my world.

I now understand what people meant when they said they felt judged by me. I did, and harshly. This wiser head would let them be. This wiser me would just love them but continue on my own life path towards my own healing. Having my eldest daughter live away from home these past two years has also helped me realise this. There have been many things she has gotten into and done that worried my mother-heart and I had to fight my own inclination to come down heavy and read the moral riot act and to rescue her from a few less than safe situations.However, I know that if I did she possibly wouldn't have figured out her own life path. It took HER wanting to take control of her own life to stimulate her into instigating change.

In this journey to the mirror I have seen my own ugliness reflecting back. I didn't like what I saw, so it was up to me to do something about it. I began to see that other people in my world were also mirrors. Traits that I found annoying or undesirable or just plain ugly in others would make me think and reflect about myself. I began to see that I was seeing my own tendencies reflected back. I began to work on changing them in myself and let people be who they were, with no judgement. I began to respond to people in a more positive manner, rather than with suspicion. Since then I have been blessed with how responsive and friendly people are in my daily encounters. Smiles from strangers, a cheery, "Good morning!" when on a walk or a jog, people simply just passing on useful information when we are out having fun as a family, the kids at G's school being friendly and courteous. What's changed? My outlook on the world!

There will be other mirrors along this path. Right now I'm liking what I'm seeing in this one. There will be times where I won't, in which case I will reflect and continue on my own journey towards change. Life is good and green and challenging and exciting; filled with possibility and hope.

What the photos don't show.

We gotta get us one of these!

I must preface this entry by saying that I don't resent what follows one bit. I'm simply writing it as a statement of what life is for us. All of us have accepted this reality and are at peace with it.

A trip to the beach is not easy. Once we're there and have secured our spot on the sand reasonably close to the water it's easier but the actual getting there and then packing up and heading home is, for me at least, exhausting.

Beaches are not made for wheelchairs; or maybe I should say, wheelchairs are not made for beaches. I have often said that some clever person should invent the "Hover Chair" so that one can just hover over the sand and stop at the waters edge if one wants a swim. I have seen a wheelchair with tracks like a tank which would possibly also do the trick but finances don't allow for anything so expensive, let alone something that would only be used sporadically and that we have no way of transporting anyway.

But no, wheelchairs are not made for beaches. However, I've never wanted the girls to miss out on a wonderful beach experience. As a family we've always loved the beach and I've never wanted the girls to ever miss out because their disabilities have posed a challenge.

And so I carry them down to the waters edge. I always have and, for as long as my body let's me, I always will. And yes it's exhausting, yes it's sometimes painful, but I've challenged myself to never let them feel as though having to do it is a burden to me. We've made it into a game on many an occasion; we've pretended we're the girls from Rabbit Proof Fence, trekking through the desert trying to get home. We've laughed. They know it's hard and I know they worry for me but it's more important to me that we have shared, happy family experiences together and I'd rather be uncomfortable for a short while than all of us miss out on something we love to do just because it all just seems too hard.

And I know the girls don't take it for granted. Between us there is a beautiful level of respect and gratefulness. I am so blessed to have such thoughtful, loving, positive kids. They make all the extra tasks that are part of their package into things I feel honored to be able to do for them, rather than being a burden. When they can, they try and make things as easy as possible for me. I look at them in awe sometimes because their positive, calm nature just astounds me.

So that's what you don't see in the pictures, but I'm kind of glad you don't because you see the important part; the greater part. You see a family just enjoying an evening on the beach.

Lasso the moon

There are times where you just have to say, "Hang it all!" and get out there and do something that soothes the soul and reconnects you to those you love.

Yesterday would have been the tenth birthday of Chloe's little dog Lucy. Chloe still misses her and wanted to do something to commemorate the day so we decided to go to the beach - Lucy's most favorite place in all the world - and have some fish and chips and watch the sun go down.

It was a magical evening; balmy and peaceful. We laughed and made up stories about the flock of seagulls that were waiting rather impatiently for even a hint that we were going to toss them some of our food.

Pick the bossy one!

Georgia quoted Shakespeare to them as they seemed to have some kind of power struggle happening.

When the evening was drawing to a close, Chloe said that she lassoed the moon with a golden thread and tied it to the car so it could follow us home.

I love the way she thinks. At the age of 22 she hasn't lost that childlike magic.

Kindred Spirits

Image credit

You know, the more "recovery groups" I do, the more blogs/diaries I read and the more I attempt to connect with people; the more I learn that the experiences I've had as a person with a "difference" are not exclusive to me, to people like me, to people with a difference/disability. They're all part of the human condition.

It's been quite comforting really, because I've realized that there are more kindred spirits out there than I originally thought.

People I've judged as being physically attractive often struggle with being extremely insecure about their bodies.

People I've seen as happy and confident, who seem to have no shortage of people who like them can often be insecure and shy.

People who have no reason to suspect that they stand out and are up for public scrutiny can feel horribly self-conscious when they're out in public and they almost pray not to be noticed and will do everything they can to avoid attention being drawn to them.

This year I've learned to let people in and I've learned that we can ALL relate on some level. I've felt less alone on what I perceived as my little island.

Let's hear it for SSRI's!

I think taking control of my mental health is one of the most sensible decisions I've made all year.

I guess there's still a stigma attached to antidepressants. Maybe people see it as admitting defeat, that you're too weak to cope on your own, that you really are seriously losing the plot. I didn't *really* want to take them. My prior experiences of them weren't really the most positive. I felt like a bit of a zombie, looking at life around me through a glass box. I felt neither happy nor sad, excited nor down. I just felt...nothing. Just this disinterested observation of life around me; just going through the motions like an automaton. The only thing I could feel was a soaring libido which was annoying more than anything.

I didn't want that again, especially this time when I was about to embark on a ten week Art program for people who experienced anxiety and depression. I wanted to be able to tap into emotion and draw on it to be able to produce good art. I didn't want my art to be a reflection of disinterested observation.

But I knew I needed something to help me undertake some necessary changes in my life. Mental health is just as important as physical wellness. Let's face it, if you presented to a doctor with a broken leg the doctor wouldn't just say, "Cheer up! Things will get better! Just keep going and your leg will get better eventually!" No! You'd be treated, your leg set and encased in a cast and you'd be given a pair of crutches to help you get around until your leg totally healed. Perhaps you'd even be sent off to a physiotherapist to help with the healing.

So why do we think that when we have a broken heart, or broken emotions and an overwhelmed mind we should just carry on? We shouldn't! For me, I knew that I was on the right road, but with my current mental circumstances I was easily going to get overwhelmed and just keep traipsing around in the wilderness, never fully healing, never getting anywhere. So I went to my doctor and I told her where I was at, told her all the practical things I was doing to help myself heal, explained how I felt on the last course of antidepressants, and together we formulated a plan to help me on the road to holistic health.

This time I've been dedicated to it. I've stayed consistent with my medication, my exercise plan, my diet and building relationships. The medication has helped me balance everything. I'm not a zombie looking through a plate of glass. I can feel all emotion but it doesn't overwhelm me like before. I can plan and think logically. I still tear up at touching, emotional scenes in movies and at beautiful, joyous moments in my own life. I feel more like ME - and I like it.

So, that's the reason why Lexapro is my friend right now and one of the most sensible things I've done for myself this year. I hope one day I'll be healed enough to be weaned off it but for now it's part of my daily routine. I like the way it's helped me through an incredibly trying year. I like the way it's helped me give myself a break and enabled me to learn that I am ok just as I am.

Teenage wasteland

I think one of the hardest things about being a parent sharing the same genetic difference as your children is watching them experience the same things as you did as a teen, remembering how hard and hurtful it was and feeling powerless to "save" them from it.

I've come to the conclusion that childhood/teenage friendships can be as fragile as gossamer thread as well as being wonderful and fun. When it's all good you feel good and strong and happy, but when things are in their fragile, changeable state you feel alone, as if the whole world is against you, worthless, unloveable.

For the first three years of her Secondary School life, my youngest daughter has enjoyed a happy friendship with another girl she met in Year 7. Both of them share the same name but they've developed pseudonyms for each other - Bailey and Riley. I forget who is who.

Unfortunately this year, their friendship has been tested with my daughter having to have a good part of first and second term off due to her spinal surgery. Then when she did return to school it was for half days. It's only been in this final term has she been able to go full time.

In the natural progression of things, the other G has had to develop other friendships in my G's absence. These friendships have now replaced the one she had with my G and now she's feeling left out as her friend now chooses to spend her free time with the new friends in an area of the school grounds that is inaccessible to my G. Naturally my G is dreadfully hurt and spends her days at school alone, trying not to look alone by looking busy and purposeful, as though she has somewhere to go and something important to do.

I remember those days. I hated those days. They were the loneliest days of my life. It's hard being in an environment where being part of the crowd and feeling like you belong is of utmost importance and you feel as though you are invisible or, even worse, an outcast. It wasn't until I was in Year 11 that I found a friend who stuck around, who bonded with me just as much as I bonded with them. Alas, we drifted apart as adults.

G and I have talked about everything. I have listened to her hurt and wanted to be able to help in some way, to do something, to make it all better. I also have to remember that I am only getting my daughter's side of the story and, although it is valid, it doesn't make up the whole truth. I have to remember that, as painful as it is, this is the way it has been for teenagers since the beginning of time and my daughter's experiences are shared by billions of other teens - disabled or otherwise - all around the world.

G is a reader and gains inspiration and hope from others who have gone before her. Yesterday she told me that she "had a crap day" but found this little gem from one of her literary heroes:

"Getting socially outcast can be the best and most informative thing that can ever happen to you because you have to learn who you are separate from the pack."
- Ezra Miller

Reading this encouraged her. This experience has opened the doors for many deep conversations between the two of us, and with her siblings. We talk about the value of learning about who you are, learning what you like and what you don't, what your passions are, what your goals are, learning that you are OK on your own. Being OK with being alone but not lonely.

Today she said to me, "When I find a boy, I want him to make me feel pretty before he makes me feel sexy." So I told her that the most important thing was to know that she was pretty without someone telling her that she was. After telling her that though I then went on to tell her she was beautiful, inside and out - because she is. Very much so.

I think my girl is on the right track. She'll be ok.

In the woods.

With the events of the past week and my reactions to them I've realized that although I'm in a good space at the moment I'm not entirely out of the woods yet.

Fragile stability I guess you'd call it.

The desire to isolate has been strong this week. I realize it is a reaction to perceived angst, criticism and disappointment. I've become unsure, hyper-sensitive and slightly anxious. Again, I realize that some of this is also hormonal which is why I've also committed to giving it some time to balance out before I start looking at seeking help.

I don't want to see my family most of all, because they are the ones I want to please the most...and somehow I feel as though I am failing them or letting them down or disappointing them, which heightens my anxiety.

And that mirrors my relationship with J. I wanted to please him more than anyone. HIS acceptance of me was of critical importance and if I felt I didn't have it the anxiety would soar and I'd feel as though I had to find the ONE THING that would secure that for me. But now he's not here anymore and I've found that that insane need has transferred to my birth family. I don't feel it with my kids. At all. Being my nutty self with them is easy. They accept it and I feel their love easily reciprocated.

So the intense desire to escape is what I feel right now. Where I don't have to perform and prove and seek...or even make decisions that may affect others, although as a mother I know that they do. Even if I act on the need to escape and G and I take off for a while and take a year off & she does some natural learning, exploring, self research and enquiry, this will have an impact on her, whether it be now or somewhere down the track....

Not out of the woods yet, but at the same time I recognize that this is all part of the journey. I'm still discovering things and with each discovery comes an opportunity to face the issue and learn how to deal with it. It's all part of moving forward. It's not a step back.

Half a story, half a picture doesn't mean a whole truth.

Amongst my siblings and I we haven't had much of the above picture as adults. As kids, yes, but with there being seven of us you just found someone else to play with while you forgot about what the problem was and then you were friends again.

Dynamics change as you get older...and you add partners into the mix who come in with their own ways of doing things, own preconceived ideas, own ways of looking at life, own baggage. What was once a fairly functional, non-functional way of doing things and relating with your family of origin eventually becomes something that is questioned and challenged by the new-comers.

The hardest thing to deal with is when people only get half a story and half a picture and they come to a conclusion which becomes a whole truth. Offence is taken, feelings are hurt, accusations are hurled and the "innocent" party is left with their head spinning wondering, "Where the hell did that come from?" The hardest part is when the offended party refuses to communicate, refuses to hear an explanation, refuses even to hear a genuine, heart-felt apology for being unthinking and perhaps a little insensitive. Everything just gets blown out of all proportion and the event that was the cause of the angst is now tainted because of the offence taken.

How often do we all form our own truths from half a picture, half a story and a whole lot of assumption? Whatever happened to believing the best in people?