Whilst driving home last night with my son, in the silence of the car and the silence that exists being in the presence of my beautiful, silent son, I realised that I have spent the better part of the past 12 years being confused, bereft and totally miserable.
Why on earth do I profess to love this man?
Why does a heroin addict love the substance that is slowly killing them?
Am I just addicted to being needed; to having a body next to me in the bed that gives me the illusion that I am cherished and loved?
Reality is, I'm not. I am a foe. I am a opponent to be squashed and annihilated. Any form of independence or free thought...or anything that is intrinsically me is questioned, given an autopsy and examined to the point where I question my own right to be different to him. Do I really feel what I feel? Should I feel what I feel and think what I think? Feeling what I feel and thinking what I think only gets me into a world of trouble and the moody, broody, disapproving silences are the worst punishment one can inflict.
Give me a quick slap across the face any day. It's quick, it's painful, it's over.
But to be punished simply for not staying in the box he would have me in simply confuses me.
I wish I was loved.
I wish I was loved like Ryan loves Cole.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Catharsis
Wow.
My old school friend called me last night. Her name is Joscelyn. We spoke for hours. (even missed Criminal Minds, but that was ok!)
I'm finding it really hard to put into words the impact that call has had...on both of us. In the end we both realised that we two are possibly the only two who could understand the impact another one of our friends had on our lives, and how our experiences with her helped shape who we are today. I had no idea that Joscelyn suffered in the friendship with Tania just as much, if not more, than I did. It is so strange, and somewhat scary, how we both needed to revisit things that happened to us both over 30 years ago.
Something new and good is growing again. We had such a brief friendship when we were children, but have never forgotten each other and now we are free of Tania we were able to last night talk about things, heal old wounds and start putting pieces of the puzzle together to reveal a friendship that endured a strange kind of crazy.
I feel kind of empty today. I'm not sure why. Over the course of the morning (and it's only 8am) I have come to realise a couple of things I thought as the truth from when I was a kid, were actually a lie.
I feel a bit stupid for saying this, but the one that's stuck with me at the moment is the realisation that Tania possibly never went to see KISS in 1980. It was an elaborate lie she told.
It's the lie that gets to me...
But I feel stupid that this has an impact on this almost-44-year-old woman today.
Last night Joscelyn was reeling with the fact that she found out from me that Tania never did Year 10. (J had moved to a different school by this stage) Here she was, all these years, believing that Tania left school after Year 10 at CHS. To find out that she ran away from school at the start of the Year 10 year and never came back (and even didn't contact her so-called best friend AKA me to tell me what was going on) really had an effct on Joscelyn last night.
But to explain that impact to you or to anyone else is just beyond us.
What makes someone so "powerful" that they have such a lasting impact on your life? How can you fully explain emotional manipulation? How can you explain your reasons for being so devoted to someone at such a young age? Are there people that exist who have such an "aura" about them that this kind of thing is even possible?
Anyway, the good thing about it all is that I have a friend. Her name is Joscelyn. We're now going to be friends in our own right
My old school friend called me last night. Her name is Joscelyn. We spoke for hours. (even missed Criminal Minds, but that was ok!)
I'm finding it really hard to put into words the impact that call has had...on both of us. In the end we both realised that we two are possibly the only two who could understand the impact another one of our friends had on our lives, and how our experiences with her helped shape who we are today. I had no idea that Joscelyn suffered in the friendship with Tania just as much, if not more, than I did. It is so strange, and somewhat scary, how we both needed to revisit things that happened to us both over 30 years ago.
Something new and good is growing again. We had such a brief friendship when we were children, but have never forgotten each other and now we are free of Tania we were able to last night talk about things, heal old wounds and start putting pieces of the puzzle together to reveal a friendship that endured a strange kind of crazy.
I feel kind of empty today. I'm not sure why. Over the course of the morning (and it's only 8am) I have come to realise a couple of things I thought as the truth from when I was a kid, were actually a lie.
I feel a bit stupid for saying this, but the one that's stuck with me at the moment is the realisation that Tania possibly never went to see KISS in 1980. It was an elaborate lie she told.
It's the lie that gets to me...
But I feel stupid that this has an impact on this almost-44-year-old woman today.
Last night Joscelyn was reeling with the fact that she found out from me that Tania never did Year 10. (J had moved to a different school by this stage) Here she was, all these years, believing that Tania left school after Year 10 at CHS. To find out that she ran away from school at the start of the Year 10 year and never came back (and even didn't contact her so-called best friend AKA me to tell me what was going on) really had an effct on Joscelyn last night.
But to explain that impact to you or to anyone else is just beyond us.
What makes someone so "powerful" that they have such a lasting impact on your life? How can you fully explain emotional manipulation? How can you explain your reasons for being so devoted to someone at such a young age? Are there people that exist who have such an "aura" about them that this kind of thing is even possible?
Anyway, the good thing about it all is that I have a friend. Her name is Joscelyn. We're now going to be friends in our own right
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
10 Things About Me
1. I am very short. Really.
2. I can't stand hearing mouth noises other than talking or singing. Please chew your gum quietly around me,
3. I danced in front of a Prime Minister when I was only six years old.
4. I hate boiled and fried eggs. I'll only eat them scrambled and in an omelette.
5. I have secret ambitions to be a backing vocalist for a band....a good band. It's not unusual for me to get up on stage at a function with a band and sing with them - just for the hell of it.
6. I wish I was invisible....or at least just blend in with the crowd.
7. I am still madly in love with my husband even after 26 years together. (23 married)
8. I have two dogs, two cats, four rabbits, 1 guinea pig and two rats and secretly agree with my husband that this is too many!
9. I'd do anything to chuck it all in and live on a commune growing my own fruit and veggies, chickens, cows, making my own clothes and generally staying away from the hustle and bustle of suburbia.
10. I love to dance.....especially in the supermarket.
2. I can't stand hearing mouth noises other than talking or singing. Please chew your gum quietly around me,
3. I danced in front of a Prime Minister when I was only six years old.
4. I hate boiled and fried eggs. I'll only eat them scrambled and in an omelette.
5. I have secret ambitions to be a backing vocalist for a band....a good band. It's not unusual for me to get up on stage at a function with a band and sing with them - just for the hell of it.
6. I wish I was invisible....or at least just blend in with the crowd.
7. I am still madly in love with my husband even after 26 years together. (23 married)
8. I have two dogs, two cats, four rabbits, 1 guinea pig and two rats and secretly agree with my husband that this is too many!
9. I'd do anything to chuck it all in and live on a commune growing my own fruit and veggies, chickens, cows, making my own clothes and generally staying away from the hustle and bustle of suburbia.
10. I love to dance.....especially in the supermarket.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Shoulder to shoulder
Jim and I were talking yesterday about how volatile the weather normally seems to be around this time of year. The December/January (and into February sometimes) seems to be when we get the floods, cyclones and bushfires. I guess it's just Mother Nature just doing what she does, but we all do seem to always be surprised by it. Is it getting any worse as the years go on? I don't know. I don't know enough about the theories behind Global Warming to be able to make postulations about whether or not all this is due to that. My brother Lane is very cynical about the notion of Global Warming. He believes the earth has gone through changes in weather patterns like this ever since creation and sees all written material stating otherwise as a load of propaganda. I sit on the fence with it all and prefer not to get into the argument for fear of looking like a fool in my ignorance.
Whatever the case, we're all charged with taking care of the earth and it's inhabitants, whether that be animal, vegetable or mineral. Sometimes I think we've done a poor job of it............
Anyway, it was dark and wet when I arrived in the city this morning. Really dark. I mean it was 8:30am and it looked more like 5:30pm in the middle of winter....and although it was wet like the middle of winter, it certainly wasn't cold. I reneged on the walk and took the tram instead. It still didn't stop me from getting wet!
I was having a look through the Herald Sun this morning and have been inspired by some of the stories of courage and bravery, both by the victims of the flood crisis in Queensland and their rescuers. I've also been looking at the news and seeing the efforts of the volunteers at the Refuge Centres who have given up time just to be there, serve food, be a comfort, entertain children. It touches me to hear of stories of the selflessness of the victims as well...each going out of their way to help a neighbour even though they haev lost everything themselves. Stories of mateship and cameraderie have always touched my heart and make me believe in the basic goodness of the human hear. Yes, there have also been stories of looters and profiteerers, but I believe that these people are in the minority and it's only because they make so much noise and attract attention that we hear about them.
I for one, want to pay more attention to the people who are standing shoulder to shoulder and supporting each other....the ones who are doing good and showing the spirit that made this country one of the best places to live.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Still working it out
It's funny that after 25 years we are still negotiating our own Christmas traditions. Actually, sometimes it's not funny. Sometimes it can still be a minefield. I don't know why that is. Maybe it's because our memories of Christmas in our childhoods are filled with so many significant events, memories that are still precious and important and we are both sometimes unwilling to let them go. We want to recreate what was so precious to the both of us and neither of the recreations can exist in its own fullness without the deaths of some parts of the other's recreation.
I get nervous. I think maybe I am the one more willing to let mine go...locking my memories away in the box of yesteryear. They will always remain valid and real and precious, so I am content having them at rest in the memory box. Instead, I am concentrating more on the things that make it significant and memorable for my kids and participate in their creations with gusto. It seems we have two set-in-stone traditions now. The first is decorating the Tree. We put on a specific Bing Crosby CD and start decorating - I assemble the tree and put on the lights and tinsel and then everyone hangs the baubles together. We sing, we laugh, we all exclaim how quickly the year has flown, we tell jokes and reminisce about some of the decorations from over the years.
That is Tradition #1.
The other is the annual drive-around-the-streets-looking-at-the-Christmas-Lights. We did it last night in the pouring rain. We've had a lot of rain all throughout December so the house lights are a little scarce this year. Still, it was nice. We all get an attack of the sillies when driving around. I don't know why this is. Maybe the excitement that Christmas is coming. One of the kids said last night that it really feels like Christmas when we do the drive around the streets.
That is Tradition #2.
Still, there is the tension that exists between the two of us where Christmas has to be "just so". I am learning how to negotiate this time. My strategy is to just let my agendas go and concentrate on what's important to this family. I don't want my kids remembering a mother who was hell-bent on getting her own way that she forgot what was important to them. I don't know how to do "his" Christmas and I find myself feeling awfully inadequate sometimes because I simply can't provide an ample bounty of decorations, food, people coming in and out delivering well wishes and blessings. There has been times where he has been frustrated because there are things we haven't got that "every other normal family has."
Sometimes you have to just let your own memories go and work at creating new ones with the people you are with today. If you don't, you may just miss out one some of the richness that is already around you and rob others of the right to create their own traditions.
I get nervous. I think maybe I am the one more willing to let mine go...locking my memories away in the box of yesteryear. They will always remain valid and real and precious, so I am content having them at rest in the memory box. Instead, I am concentrating more on the things that make it significant and memorable for my kids and participate in their creations with gusto. It seems we have two set-in-stone traditions now. The first is decorating the Tree. We put on a specific Bing Crosby CD and start decorating - I assemble the tree and put on the lights and tinsel and then everyone hangs the baubles together. We sing, we laugh, we all exclaim how quickly the year has flown, we tell jokes and reminisce about some of the decorations from over the years.
That is Tradition #1.
The other is the annual drive-around-the-streets-looking-at-the-Christmas-Lights. We did it last night in the pouring rain. We've had a lot of rain all throughout December so the house lights are a little scarce this year. Still, it was nice. We all get an attack of the sillies when driving around. I don't know why this is. Maybe the excitement that Christmas is coming. One of the kids said last night that it really feels like Christmas when we do the drive around the streets.
That is Tradition #2.
Still, there is the tension that exists between the two of us where Christmas has to be "just so". I am learning how to negotiate this time. My strategy is to just let my agendas go and concentrate on what's important to this family. I don't want my kids remembering a mother who was hell-bent on getting her own way that she forgot what was important to them. I don't know how to do "his" Christmas and I find myself feeling awfully inadequate sometimes because I simply can't provide an ample bounty of decorations, food, people coming in and out delivering well wishes and blessings. There has been times where he has been frustrated because there are things we haven't got that "every other normal family has."
Sometimes you have to just let your own memories go and work at creating new ones with the people you are with today. If you don't, you may just miss out one some of the richness that is already around you and rob others of the right to create their own traditions.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Anonymity
Anonymity....being anonymous. It is a gift. Embrace it.
Being invisible...blending in...not standing out in a crowd. Do you have any idea how much I envy you for it?
I guess a lot of people would love to have people notice them, to stand out in a crowd, to have people call out their name, to have people know who they are.
Not me. I crave being invisible. I crave blending in. I long to be just another face in the crowd, nothing different, nothing special.
I don't want random tourists to take photos. I don't want post work/school stories, "Hey honey! Guess what I saw today!"
I don't want blogs to be written about me...
Not that this one is about me, but you get the picture.....
There! It's out there now.
Being invisible...blending in...not standing out in a crowd. Do you have any idea how much I envy you for it?
I guess a lot of people would love to have people notice them, to stand out in a crowd, to have people call out their name, to have people know who they are.
Not me. I crave being invisible. I crave blending in. I long to be just another face in the crowd, nothing different, nothing special.
I don't want random tourists to take photos. I don't want post work/school stories, "Hey honey! Guess what I saw today!"
I don't want blogs to be written about me...
Not that this one is about me, but you get the picture.....
There! It's out there now.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
The Pact
He and I seem to have this pact.
Do not acknowledge each other.
Under any circumstance.
I don't know why this is. It's stupid really. We even live in the same neighbourhood; around the corner in fact. We went to the same church. We went to the same school for a while.
We went out....but when I say we went out, I mean we went to see Ghostbusters together. He asked me if I'd like to go to the movies. I said yes. We went.
We didn't "go out" in "that" sense.
After the movies he called me. Asked me out again. Asked me if I wanted to go to someone's birthday. I wasn't sure. It was all just too weird for my liking.
He went away...enlisted in the Navy. He'd write to me. I'd write to him. In letters I was able to tell him things I couldn't say to his face. I've always been like that. The written word is easier. I also hate the phone. Please send me an email instead of calling me.
See, at the time I was seeing someone else. I felt comfortable with the guy I was seeing. He was just like me. It was easy to believe that I was accepted if the guy I was seeing was just like me.
But this guy...he was.....normal (for want of a better word)......and I had always been led to believe that if a "normal" guy showed an interest in me then his motives should be questioned.
Question him I did.
He was kind of pissed off I think...that I was suspicious of his motives. He pretty much indicated that I was the one who had the problem with my difference, not him.
On reflection, and with the passage of time, I can see he had a valid point.
One day a letter arrived from him. A letter that contained photographs of him in his navy uniform.
That was the letter I never answered. It was all too much. You don't send photos of yourself to a girl if you don't have some kind of interest. It freaked me out.
Since then we have never spoken.
We seem to have this unspoken pact.
Do not acknowledge each other.
Under any circumstance.
Do not acknowledge each other.
Under any circumstance.
I don't know why this is. It's stupid really. We even live in the same neighbourhood; around the corner in fact. We went to the same church. We went to the same school for a while.
We went out....but when I say we went out, I mean we went to see Ghostbusters together. He asked me if I'd like to go to the movies. I said yes. We went.
We didn't "go out" in "that" sense.
After the movies he called me. Asked me out again. Asked me if I wanted to go to someone's birthday. I wasn't sure. It was all just too weird for my liking.
He went away...enlisted in the Navy. He'd write to me. I'd write to him. In letters I was able to tell him things I couldn't say to his face. I've always been like that. The written word is easier. I also hate the phone. Please send me an email instead of calling me.
See, at the time I was seeing someone else. I felt comfortable with the guy I was seeing. He was just like me. It was easy to believe that I was accepted if the guy I was seeing was just like me.
But this guy...he was.....normal (for want of a better word)......and I had always been led to believe that if a "normal" guy showed an interest in me then his motives should be questioned.
Question him I did.
He was kind of pissed off I think...that I was suspicious of his motives. He pretty much indicated that I was the one who had the problem with my difference, not him.
On reflection, and with the passage of time, I can see he had a valid point.
One day a letter arrived from him. A letter that contained photographs of him in his navy uniform.
That was the letter I never answered. It was all too much. You don't send photos of yourself to a girl if you don't have some kind of interest. It freaked me out.
Since then we have never spoken.
We seem to have this unspoken pact.
Do not acknowledge each other.
Under any circumstance.
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