Thank god that’s done…

What a day, what a week, what a year…

One year. 

Wow. 

Pretty sure this last year screwed me over more than any of the preceding ones… and some of those ones tried damned hard!

But 2016…

I’m scrambling out the other side with far less people by my side… and not all the ones I expected. I lost more people I loved this year than all the ones before… I had my heart shattered and trampled by people I loved more than I ever thought was possible. There were moments I thought I’d never draw an unpained breath again. There were days and weeks where I couldn’t find any joy in my heart.  Far too many nights where the tunnel’s end just seemed beyond me. I look back over this year… and I can’t even find a connection to the person who entered it…

Yeah… I’ve changed. But you broke me. You hammered me time and again… but I rebuilt those damned pieces one by one. 

I’ve never been more relieved to see a year end… to feel I can breathe again… 

but it wasn’t all bad. Of course. I discovered the people who are here for me no matter what. The ones who stood by me even when I was unloveable. The ones who found they could love all the parts of me, no matter how much I rearranged those pieces. 

So…. I’m sending such a solid ‘screw you’ to 2016 and to all the people I’m leaving behind… and welcoming the year of change and rebuilding ahead, surrounded by some of the most amazing people I am so incredibly blessed to know. 

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You’re not yourself when you’re hungry…

I’m not myself. Haven’t been for a few months now. Ask anyone…

Or maybe…

This is me now. 

You can’t keep breaking me and expecting me to put the pieces back the same way. You can’t keep abandoning me and expecting me to still be waiting. You can’t keep chipping and chipping… and expecting me to be your constant. 

This is who I am now. I put the pieces back this way. Walls with no windows. I’m happy to dine alone…

So many quotes… but people only hear the ones that resonate in their own heart. They can’t hear the words that shattered me one time too many and they can’t hear the words that built my new fortress. 

I want to rail at them. I want the melodrama. To somehow get them to hear… 

You broke me. You abandoned me. You watched me fall. Don’t you dare complain now that I’ve changed. 

Running to stand still…

How long do you run, before you realise that’s all you’re doing? From a place.. people…

I ran from my marriage… then my town… friends… career… family…


Somewhere in that mix… I realised I was simply standing still…

My best friend used to tell me I was running. That I’d filled my life with children, people, work, study, committees, commitments…. there was no time left for sleep.. I’d have 3 functions on in a night plus a sport to get to the next morning by 7am… 300km away… 

She could see my unhappiness… as I can see that of others now. I watch them leave – their job, their town… I watch them full those empty spaces with people and things. With exercise – the ultimate unhealthy healthy addiction…

But when do you finally stop and face it? Stand and fight? When do you find the courage to face your demons and become the dragon? 

When do you realise that the unhappiness… that deep seated unrest is right there at your feet… 


I am the dragon. I don’t slay them. But I stand and fight. I call your bluff. I see through you. And I won’t back down to appease your ego. I won’t settle for mediocre. I won’t die at 25 and be buried at 85. 

I watch and wait… I watch you run and fill and try to ignore that nagging in your soul… that discontent… filling the empty spaces and moments with noise and stuff… trying to push down that bubble of discontent… that realisation you are simply going through the motions… discontent… unhappy… settling for mediocrity… because you’re too afraid to face those demons.

I watch and wait… wondering if you’ll ever find strength. Cajonas. If you’ll ever seize your life again and live it. 

I watch and wait… and wonder if you’ve left it too late… if you’ll leave it too late… if…

Faith is a fine invention…

The last week seems to have been throwing quite a few curve balls… and I wonder what is the point, and is there a point at all…

I can’t remember ever not having some belief in… well… something. Not until the last couple of years at least. Not until my heart and faith was shredded one time too many. 

I’ve done the God thing. Believed in that one true God. Perhaps back when I still believed in one true love…

I’ve dabbled in the Celtic myths and loved  the Wiccan concepts. The romanticism of something mystical aligned with the earth itself. That one is hard to beat. 

But whilst I can’t seem to abandon all hope at all, I struggle now with any faith. The reality of science seems too strong to keep fighting. Or perhaps it’s simply that life is finally, unerringly, wearing me down. 

I don’t know what I want to believe… just that there’s… something. Something to make sense. Something worthwhile. A reason to wake up, exist and sleep. Something other than – you live, you die, that’s it. 

But why? Why do I need anything to make sense? Why do I need to have that ‘reason’? And that’s exactly it… a reason. Because I can’t actually see the point of it all without a reason. We’ve destroyed this Earth. We’re destroying what’s left. Why even bother fighting if there’s no reason? Let’s just let it all take its natural course. The earth will right itself once more. 

And so my head spins… my heart staggers… 

We found science and we lost faith… and hope… magic… that crazy belief that a miracle can happen, even when it’s completely impossible… we took away fairy tales and our belief in goblins and fairy rings… 

And we took away the reason… 

Take 5…

So… I’ve hit that point when the task is too onerous so it’s easier to just do nothing…

Except write a post about my chicks… who well and truly dominate my life and thoughts of late… No rest for the wicked? No life of my own? Something…

A rant to clear the mess in my head so I can focus on work once more…

Baby Wizard asked for a bin for his room this afternoon.. and then, for the first time in his 8 and a half years on this planet, he cleaned his room, filling his bin… and then went round the house until it was completely full and he could empty it into the big bin. If I’d realised this is all it would take, I’d have given him half a dozen bins years ago…

Baby Dragon is not happy. She is 10 and has hit the wonderfully moody, hormonal stage of life. That last spike before puberty comes along. Soooo much fun… Her drama, other than extreme moods, is that wonderfully bitchy world that 10 year olds seem to inhabit… She’s not happy that I had a few truths to impart about sitting around with a friend, bitching about another friend who isn’t present… I’m such a loving and understanding mum, that I also asked if she was crying because she was sad she was mean to her friend, or if it was because she was in trouble…. Definitely a winning mum moment there :/

Teen Princess is off to Byron for schoolies tomorrow and I can’t even let my brain go there and stress… They’re driving… Five teens in a car – I think three can drive… A loooonnnnggggg trip. :/

Teen Knight… oh… where to start… I don’t have the skills. Or the crystal ball. I want someone to wave a wand… Sudden flurry of movement in the house this afternoon and lots of whispers and vibes… What’s going on?… It seems that when my darling boys had been out and about yesterday afternoon, some rough play became very rough… Sigh… Parents here are so calm and reasonable. So quiet and sweet. I’m not cut from that cloth. Master Knight takes the stance – that one where the shoulders are back and he’s on his toes, chin high… My eyes narrow as I realise what he is doing… The other parent is calm… understanding that things get a little out of hand sometimes but ‘we don’t like bullies’… Part of my inner mumma bear surfaces at the passive aggressive crap spewing from her mouth – I have zero patience for people who need to do the whole holier than thou act… But I rein this in as it’s not the issue. The issue is that my 15 year old took his 8 year old brother out to the common area and proceeded to take things too far with a group of 11-12 year old boys. The passive aggressive mother left with a sweet smile and the calm assurance that she’s lived here for 11 years and there’s never been a bully before and they won’t allow one now… My rational brain struggles at this moment – trying not to look at her as if she has grown a second head… WTF? A. What does it matter how long you’ve lived here? B. You’re not Queen. C. If you’re freaking annoyed, say so. D. Don’t walk into my back yard uninvited and start talking to my sons without speaking to me. E… Shall I continue? But again, this is not the issue… this is just that part of me that struggles with passive aggressive, manipulative, control freaks… and that is not relevant at this moment. What is relevant is the 15 year old who is still holding his stance and saying – yep. yep. yep at this woman… and I watch as yet another adult think he has heard them, think he has understood their reasoning… Or is it simply that they see the obvious and run? She leaves… I turn on him. His stance changes. I am furious. I rant. He doesn’t listen. He’s intent on saying his own piece and I am not yet ready to hear it. I rant some more. And some more. He says something in his own defense. I rant more. There is no defense. They are kids. You are picking a fight. And finally… I pull out that line I reserve for very special occasions… I just can’t believe you’d do this, I’m so incredibly disappointed… and there it is. Said…. And he rejoins with – you’re not as disappointed in me as I am…

I can’t do this parenting gig. I can’t get it right. I have no idea what to say.

We calm. We talk. He tells me he just wants to fight someone. He wants to hit someone and make them hurt. That anger has never actually abated… still simmering… still trapped as he tries to control it…

And in the midst of everything… the phones and devices ping and ring as his father tries to call… And there it is. Or so much of it. His father is angry because he won’t answer the phone. It’s the most bizarre thing. His father told him he went to the Knight’s best friend’s house Friday for a handyman job. The Knight said – they would have told me if you did. And from that… all hell has broken loose.

I’ve forgotten how fragile this child is. How much this child is trying to hold the world together… His father sends me ridiculous texts throughout the week and I ignore them. He rings and I tell him to go away. If he rings persistently, I answer and leave it on speaker, only partially listening to whatever rubbish he needs to spew this time. But mostly, I just ignore him these days. I’ve learned to call his bluff. I’ve learned to ignore him.

But this child hasn’t worked that out yet. He’s still not strong enough.

So when his father texts me: you know he’s drinking all your alcohol – he’s drinking it right now!… I simply look at my son and think – umm, no he’s not… But my child isn’t able to do this… and his father knows it… so he texts him constantly telling him that he’s an alcoholic and he’s having withdrawal… And I have to wonder – woah, the child has only been here just over a week, how can he be an addict unless you were aware he was drinking all your alcohol at your place??? He texts him more abuse – constant and frequent… swearing, name calling, threats… The child has a new phone number so the father can’t ring him – he’s not aware he has one – but he calls the other kids, calls me, texts through social media… threats and abuse… constant…

So I don’t know how to parent… but in the scheme of things, I’m doing better than the sperm donor…

Apparently, their father tells them frequently that I am angry and bitter and jealous that he is doing so well because he is about to buy a third house… He can’t understand that I am more saddened that he will buy more and more and more… but he won’t spend that on his children. I’ve just signed paperwork I organised to allow him to only pay a pittance for the next three years – my final move in the bid to get my child back without the backlash the child isn’t strong enough to withstand… So he gave me the child with one hand as he took the paperwork in the other… and now he’s realised he’s lost any control…

The Knight tells me he is making a bid for the Dragon, but I won’t allow any of them to go again. I will fight tooth and nail this time. I won’t let another suffer. I am stronger now.

But the Knight tells me: mum, he thinks you are bitter and jealous that he is more successful and has more stuff…. but I haven’t told him mum… I haven’t said to him – dad, look around you… where are the kids?

 

It’s funny how the universe just keeps delivering… Once you stop forcing it :p 

I find people come and go… A simple ebb and flow… And I’m enjoying the shifting sands…

There is a part of me that longs for some of the connections of my past… It’s such a deep yearning… But I let the memories slide, slipping through my fingers… 

Because my world is full… My days and nights filled with love… Threads weaving together… 

That is my zone most days… Simply living now and enjoying the amazingness life has to offer… A part of me misses the passion, but so much of me is simply enjoying peace for a while…

And I miss some of the people from my past with such passion… For such a long time, I was searching to replace those connections… Finding others to fill the gaps… But, of course, that’s not possible… And I’m okay with that… Because the people with me now create new threads to weave through my life… And whilst their colours are not always as vibrant, the sturdy fabric warms my soul… 

I don’t have the energy to be annoyed with people for too long anymore… Those that hurt me, deceive me, betray my trust… All that negativity seems to flow away so easily, too… Frayed threads… Some will mend… Some will simply taper off… Others will leave a snag… 

I am watching the fabric of my life weave around me… Twisting together threads that tangle through my fingers… Watching others entwine themselves… And the universe seems to constantly deliver the colour and texture I need each time… 

My truth…

I hate fighting with the people I love… and I can’t vent about it here because I know you will read it… and I don’t want some passive aggressive war aimed at inflicting pain from behind a keyboard…

I don’t want to hurt you.

I adore you.

But…

and this is the bit you will not stop and listen to…

You are not here.

You have made your choices, and I have come to terms with those…

But now you have to let me move on with my life.

Ultimately, this is love…

I want to meet someone and fall in love. I want to have a future with a maybe. I want passion and adventure. I want to fall in love! With someone who loves me, too. I want someone who makes me a priority in their life. Who is there for the good times and for the moments when my world is crumbling. I want someone who I can call at 3AM. Someone I can introduce to my friends. Someone I can tell my hopes and dreams to. Someone I can wake with in the morning.

And maybe that someone won’t be forever… but maybe they will!

But I want to try. I want to have that experience. I want to have that maybe.

And I am greedy… but so are you… because I still want you in my life. I don’t want to lose you from my life again…

But you need to let me move on… you need to let me fall in love… and you need to be happy for me…