Threads

Those pieces of you that entwine through my life and memories… it’s hard to complete unravel someone… to reach a point where those memories are all simply bitter sweet at worse… a song or a smell… a sound or a place… a phrase…

So much of me is stronger now and living now… because living in the past brings sadness and living in the future brings stress… so I live now… and I’m quite good at it… but those memories…

It’s the songs that unravel me the most… there’s nothing to compare to a long drive with the music up loud to drown out my voice… but I still find it so hard to song those words without tears…

There are far too many people who have left my path… and whilst I am in the strongest and happiest place I have ever been in life… whilst the only people I give my energy to are the ones who give positive energy in return… my god those memories can still unravel me when I least expect it…

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Christmas wish list..

and I got it… I just forgot to say which character I was meant to play…

because I’m clearly the teapot… with a lot less ‘niceness’ and a lot less patience…

There are days my wish list involves a time machine… days it involves an Alice… and others when it involves that endless credit limit so the stress of balancing it all is a little less…

My kids wishlists… the real ones, not the ones for social media… would be this:

The Princess is 18 and would like a wealthy benefactor so she will never have to work…

The Knight is 16 and would like an endless supply to any drugs he wants and for me to give him the peace to enjoy them… whilst he finds himself… so a benefactor would be on his list, too…

The Baby Dragon is 11 and currently in a mood and a half… but she just wants mum and dad back together again so she can see us both every day and we can own a house and not have to keep moving and mummy will not have to always work and always stress about rental inspections and botch neighbours and paying bills…. she knows far too much reality for an 11 year old :/

The Magician is 9 and would simply like a nice dad who is always around and wants to play with him all the time and has lots of money to buy him presents and an Xbox…

I can’t give them any of these things of course… but what’s the common theme for my cherubs?? They all want money and stuff… and security….

Yin and yang

Some days I forget the golden rule… that life has terrible moments, but these just let you appreciate the awesome ones even more 🙂 

I’m so tired of an ex who won’t disappear… who makes everything in this life about him and his needs…

I’m tired of arguing with a teen who is so vagued out on who knows what that he can’t understand the words, let alone the intent. 

I’m stressing about a child traipsing through India and Nepal with so little common sense and who tells me she’s vomiting because she drank some dodgy water…

I’m fed up with the manipulation of the ex with his children, and worried at child number 3 who still tries to mediate his crap even when he’s bullying and bombarding her and telling her he’s the only one who really loves her… 

I’m exhausted trying to reason with number 4 who needs to be reassessed as apparently I’m the only person who can’t see he is obviously on the spectrum…

I’m fed up with stressing about money and bills and just where the hell the $2k for this next assessment will come from, let alone bills, food, a child turning 16 in two days, Xmas around the corner…

I’m fed up with neighbours who pretend to be your friend but file a complaint over stupid things to your real estate… 

I’m fed up with deadlines and working for so little return and it’s still not enough…

And that’s just the last 24 hours… 

and then most of all, I’m fed up with people who claim to love me, but then attack me because I didn’t pander to their ego this time… because *I* made them feel awkward when they made comments they shouldn’t have been making. When I called them on their unfairness and asked them to respect the boundaries they themself chose… 

but my yin and my yang… the two sides of my mountain…

Because even in the chaos and the defeat of life today… I have these awesome beings who call me Mum and choose to live here… and these incredible fgiends who remind me that they love me for who I am, not for who they want me to be… and then, at the moment when I’m on the brink of just giving up, there’s a text from a rather sweet boy in my life, reminding me that life is a balance… and we need the yin to appreciate the yang… 

and that’s what I need… and where my energy resides…. with these amazing souls who love the me that is real and not the me they have created in their minds… 

A friend keeps telling me to find what I am passionate about… but the problem with this, is that he won’t seem to listen to what I tell him…

If I were to post on social media ‘What’s my #1 passion?’, 95% of people would respond with ‘reading’… because I do love reading…. but reading is an escape. Reading has always been an escape. It’s never been a passion.

So what am I passionate about? I’m passionate about life.

Apparently that doesn’t count.

Ummm… yes, it does.

Because he’s wrong. Most people aren’t passionate about life. Most people go through the motions. Most people die at 25 when they get that mortgage or find ‘the one’… when they begin to dig those pickets into the ground and to settle for the safe path that lets them simply exist…

But I want to live. I want to shout at the sky and laugh at the wind.

I have excuses not to do this of course. Four of them. Some people call them children 😉

But they are simply excuses to exist. Excuses not to take the chance and to live my life. Excuses to simply exist.

I watch so many friends, content to exist… and i wonder what it is that means I cannot. Why can’t I be happy to leave those pickets in place. To have the mortgage and the career and the 2.2 kids and the family dog…

Why do I want so much more???

Because we have one life. One. And I want to teach my kids to grab that damned bull by the horns and to ride it til you fall off. I want them to know that you do not need to follow society. To stay in the safe choices you made because you’re too damned scared to shake the shackles.

If one more person tells me they’re staying for the kids… or because their partner is a nice person… or because…

Because they are scared.

Because life is incredible and frightening and OMFG, I get it! It’s freaking hard! It freaking sucks some days. There are days when that tunnel is so damned dark that I can’t believe there will ever be an end and I’m not sure there was ever a beginning…

But then I remember something… I’ve never been afraid of the dark. And I’ve never been afraid of the storms. And I sure as hell am not afraid to live my life and to go out with a smile on my face. To be lying in that bed at 95 remembering that time when… rather than wishing about that time when…

Breathe in… breathe out…

I’m wondering why I inspire men in my life to want to harm me? 

My 15 year old has told me, yet again, that it’s not his siblings’ safety I should be concerned about…

I’m not sure the resigned answer of – so kill me then.., if that’s what it will take so you’re forced to get help, go for it.., so what you need to do… – was the best response…

But what is the best response? Get out? I don’t want you here? It’s not safe? Becaus… he’s still my little boy… somewhere deep inside…

Some stories need to be told… but the words never sit quite right…

How do I tell a story so old it’s taken up half my life… yet I had the pieces in the wrong place until only a few years ago… and even now there seems to be pieces that I didn’t know… the puzzle larger than I thought…

I remember an old school friend. From primary school. Not a close friend. A peer really. Nothing more. 

An encounter on a train station or somewhere early in uni days. Catch the train with us. There are so many of us. We take over the bottom floor of the second last carriage… not the last carriage – that would be ever so quaint… and we were young and invincible and far from that. 

I remember he had a friend. And I remember another encounter. Another friend I made somewhere. I don’t remember all the connections. They just weren’t important. 

But I do remember there were three of them. They seemed to gel. I liked matching friends to the misfits. I liked seeing people happy. I liked people. I liked everyone. 

That liking often landed me in trouble. The misfit that noone else liked would often think our connection was something more. 

One of them though that. Now, looking back, perhaps they all did… I have no idea. 

I’ve told the story a handful of times of a guy taking me aside at a BBQ to break up with me. The thing was… I had no idea he thought there was anything to break up from. We were friends. We hadn’t dated. Or even gone out together as friends. There was nothing to misinterpret… but apparently there was. 

I remember the first of these guys. The one I’d known the longest. I remember him being odd as the years went by. I have a vague memory of an expression of interest.. of a maybe date… that I fobbed off. I sucked at fobbing, but I tried. And I managed that one. I hated that awkward feeling. Knowing I’d hurt someone. Embarrassed them. I couldn’t seem to connect with being friendly and so many people thinking that meant more… 

I remember the other guy. Was he the the Third or the second ? And where did he actually come from? Suddenly a part of our lives. Suddenly everywhere I turned. He’d walk me to my seat in lectures. Meet me at the door. He knew my timetable. He seemed to be around the bend so often when I was out and about. 

Today, id think he was stalking me. Back then… he was just odd and at times, kind of creepy… til that day he broke up with me and I didn’t know we were dating. 

I look back and simply see odd memories of people from all walks and all personalities. Funny memories. Sad. Lost. 

But a few years ago, those memories changed with a few emails. 

They’ve stayed with me… dimming with time…

Until a few weeks ago when I was talking about them with a friend for some reason… laughing. Vaguely concerned. The memory I am living back here now… using my maiden name. 

Then three days ago, sifting through old emails… literally thousands of them. Archived. Went back all those years… and there were two of those emails. Only two remain. I thought they were all erased. 

The missing ones filled in with my memeories. 

Reading those two. Remembering I hadn’t simply dramatised. They were real. The fear justified. 

Then suddenly, last night, my phone rings. An old friend from primary school I haven’t spoken to since we were 8. Fb friends for years. But suddenly she called. To catch up on the last however many years…

And in the middle of the long conversation…

We touched on this guy…

And she said – yes, we talk occasionally…

Me – I’m sure it was nothing… I’ve dramatised it..

She – no.. it was very real…

Me – but he’s has therapy. Years of therapy. Institutionalised a couple of times. I’m sure he’s fine now… healed…

She – no… he doesn’t seem to be thinking of you at the moment. He knows we’re friends. He knows you don’t want to talk to him. But he’d still like to. We don’t talk about you – I made that clear. But no… it’s not really in the past… he’s not healed… he’s on the edge… delusional… 

and we left it… she’s declared she actually wants to cut ties with him now that she’s confirmed with me. She’s concerned he’s begin fixating on her. Remembering a fondness from primary days that didn’t exist. She’s worried…

And now I am too… probably foolishly. And I’m worried for my children. For a teenager who looks far too much like me. 

I’m worried that I was talking last night, wandering about as I was wont to do when young… when noone knew I would wander the streets to escape my home… but that somehow, a few years ago, in a couple of emails, I learned that he knew. He knew all of it. All of those moments I was sure I was alone…

And I worry that last night as I chatted and worried and roamed around the street just outside my place, that a car kept pace with me, stopping and turning… probably just looking for the right address… possibly wanting to ask directions… 

I worry at then coincidences in my life. In my last week. 

I worry at what the universe wants me to hear.