Tiptoe Through the Tulips

You know how they say there is a fine line between genius and insanity.  Well I reckon that line is called Tiptoe through the Tulips.  We all love Tulips they really are beautiful.  I carried them on my wedding day. Beautiful red tulips which in the Language of Flowers means a declaration of love.

Now the song Tiptoe Through the Tulips is not a song I am familiar with.  I read that it was a popular song originally published in 1926 but was revived again in 1967 and then again in 1968.  I do not know the lyrics but I am sure if I heard it on the radio I would say 'oh of course that is how it goes'.

But to me just the title is enough to visualise people cavorting through a field of tulips in a crazed semi-lucid waltz wearing togas and adorned with laurel leaves.  So what is my point?  My point is this.  People who suffer mental illnesses are not necessarily crazy.  There are many different types of mental illness - Anxiety Disorder, Bipolar Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Depression, Eating Disorders, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and many more which you can read about here for more information.

My diagnosis is Depression.  I do have high anxiety, mild paranoia and slight OCD tendencies but that is just part of my overall Depression.  My mental illness does not mean I don a Tiara and dress up as a fairy and tiptoe through the tulips.  In fact, quite the opposite I am very withdrawn and isolated from life.  Some people with mental health disease may have lost their grasp on reality. How this presents in them is something I will not and can not say.  A. because nobody should ever be denigrated for their illnesses and B.  I am not a professional in the mental health field.

Hands up who loves Carl Barron?  He is an Aussie comedian who is a bit of a larrikin.  He is cheeky in a lovable naughty little boy kind of way.  He is also very talented and extremely funny.  One of my favourite quotes from him is - "I saw a bloke the other day talking to himself. So I tried to listen but I couldn't hear him. But the weird part is while I was watching him I was going "That bloke's bloody talkin' to himself over there." There's another bloke looking at me going "That bloke's bloody talkin' to himself over there."


If you want more - I highly recommend catching him live or hiring one or all of his dvd's.  They will make you laugh til your belly aches.


What, I am trying to say here is this JUST BECAUSE PEOPLE HAVE A MENTAL ILLNESS DOES NOT MEAN THEY ARE CRAZY.  It means they are suffering.  It means they have been strong for too long.  We are not less worthy of respect.  We are not violent and generally not incompetent. We do not need to be ridiculed or feared.  We don't need to be discriminated against.   We don't want to be treated differently.  All we want is acceptance, kindness and support.  This is nothing more then any other person wants and what all people need.


Is there a fine line between genius and insanity.  Who am I to say. I am neither a genius or insane.  I am a daughter, sister, friend, wife, mother, aunt, cousin, niece, daughter-in-law, sister-in-law, volunteer, community member, Australian, and many more labels.  I have blonde hair, green eyes, am overweight (I know that sucks big hairy balls).  When I am well I have a wicked sense of humour and am fun to be around.  Even unwell I can laugh at myself.  I love helping others.  I am told by my psychiatrist I do this to the detriment of myself.  I need to start helping myself as much as I help others.  All of these things makes me unique but also confirms I am human.  I make mistakes, my feelings get hurt, I cry and laugh and yes while being uniquely me I am also exactly the same as everyone else.  I need love, kindness, acceptance and support.

There is no need to feel uncomfortable about mental illness.  More people then you realise suffer it.  The reason you don't know this is most will never talk about it.  They are scared about your reaction.  Fortunately I have always been outspoken and have always been an advocate for what I believe is right so I will never be quiet about my own mental illness.  If this makes you uncomfortable, guess what?  That is your problem not mine.


There are many famous people who openly admit their battle with mental illness.  Daniel Johns, Natalie Imbruglia, Pat Cash, Hugh Laurie, Robbie Williams, Spike Milligan and many many more.  If you want to know more about Mental Illness please go here  to Sane Australia which is a national charity working for a better life for people affected by mental illness.


If you don't want to read and know more, that is ok.  If you find it a struggle to deal with mental illness in others that too is ok.  BUT, do not ever belittle or laugh at others for what they suffer.  If you can't deal with it remain silent as that in its own way is kindness.


Take care, life may not be the party we hoped for but while we're here we should dance (or tiptoe through the tulips lol)
Laura

You can all just Kiss off into the Air

If you were a teenager in the eighties you would most likely had Violent Femmes on permanent rotation.  Or, if you were lucky like me, you had one of those boom boxes (google it you young 'uns) with a cassette deck that had auto reverse I think is what it was called.  Basically it meant the tape played both sides without you having to get off your hormonal driven self centred backside to change sides.

This was pretty close to what mine looked like except my speakers detached which was way way cool.  I don't think it made any difference to the sound but it was cool.

I loved Violent Femmes but, at the time, my favourite of all their songs was "Kiss Off"

I need someone, a person to talk to
Someone who'd care to love
Could it be you?
Could it be you?

The situation gets rough, and I start to panic
It's not enough, it's just a habit
And, kid, you're sick
Well, darling, this is it

Well, you can all just kiss off into the air
Behind my back, I can see them stare
They'll hurt me bad, but I won't mind
They'll hurt me bad, they do it all the time (yeah, yeah!)
Yeah, they do it all the time (yeah, yeah!)
They do it all the time (do it all the time!)
They do it all the time (do it all the time!)
They do it all the time, do it all the time

I hope you know that this will go down on your permanent record!
Oh, yeah? Well, don't get so distressed
Did I happen to mention that I'm impressed?

I take one, one, one 'cause you left me
And two, two, two for my family
And three, three, three for my heartache
And four, four, four for my headaches
And five, five, five for my lonely
And six, six, six for my sorrow
And seven, seven for no tomorrow
And eight, eight, I forget what eight was for
But nine, nine, nine for the lost gods
Ten, ten, ten, ten for everything, everything, everything

Well, you can all just kiss off into the air
Behind my back, I can see them stare
They'll hurt me bad, but I won't mind
They'll hurt me bad, they do it all the time (yeah, yeah!)
Yeah, they do it all the time (yeah, yeah!)
They do it all the time (do it all the time!)
They do it all the time (do it all the time!)
They do it all the time, do it all the time, do it all the time

I thought it was just so cool.  I knew it was about taking tablets but I thought it was romantic and so angst driven.  Now, I still love the song but I realise it is a much sadder darker song then what my teenage mind could conceive.  This person was angry, they were going to show the world and they were going to do it by hurting themselves.

I listen to it now and sing along to it as well as Blister in the Sun and Add it Up but just for nostalgic reasons as it takes me back to a time when my life was simple and full of hope.  I know not all teenagers had it as easy as me and for teenagers now there is a lot of stress, peer group pressure and cyber bullying.

I am going to dedicate this song to my depression.  It can Kiss off into the air and I won't mind.

Today, I am going to start my shift.  This shift is nothing physical.  But, I am going to change.  Not change who I am, but change how I think about things.  Most of my life I have held onto the crap that I could not change.  You know the stuff we label 'unfair'.  I have carried it with me.  It has grown, accrued and multiplied. It is little wonder I suffer from chronic depression.

So on this day I pledge to start changing the way I think about all the 'unfair' things in my life.  It means accepting them, acknowledging them - saying, yeah I see you but you know what Fuck you too.  I don't have to let you grind me down.  You are not going to add to my load.  So just Kiss off into the air ok.

For awhile I might feel a bit empty because I will no longer be holding onto this crap.  But as the saying goes "one door closes and another one opens".  But I will be knocking on each door first to make sure I am entering a zone where I can just be.  Where I can work on my pods and keep any door to crap closed.

One day, I may write a bit about this crap.  But not yet.  I don't want to write about it while I am still trying to let it go.  I will write about it when it is gone and then we can write it's obituary.

Now to something nice.  I promised I would share some of my art with you.  I am very very proud of my developing art skills.  I find it so cathartic and emotional to draw.

Pardon the quality of the pic as I used my phone to take it.  This is called 'Songs About Rainbows' which was a title of a previous post.  I find as I write I need to also draw what I am writing.  I did this with chalk pastels. I love working with chalk pastels.

So from me to you, always be kind, you don't know what people have experienced this morning, yesterday etc. 

Take care, 

Laura

PS I have exciting news but will only share once I know it is definite.

I dropped my basket - you know that one with all the eggs in it

I just had a very positive session with my psychiatrist.  It was the first one I have walked away from feeling ... yes ... he makes sense.  I am glad that has happened.  I was ready to give up on him.  But really, the problem wasn't him; it was me.  While I thought I was being proactive, all I was really doing was going through the motions.

Man oh man it is hard admitting shit when you thought you were right.  It wasn't that I was wrong - it was just that I was stuck.  I still am stuck but am about to jump.  I will tie myself to a bungee cord and let it stretch until it is taut.  It will oscillate up and down.  As will my emotions.  They will be stretched and stretched until they can be stretched no further.  They will strain and they will oscillate.  They will reach different highs and lows.  But for this to happen I have to jump.  And for me to jump I must be brave.

My psychiatrist rightly said I have all my eggs in one basket.  And he is so correct.  It is not something I set out to do.  However, my depression has allowed me to become more and more isolated and withdrawn from life.  In doing so, like a spiralling circle I was becoming more and more lost and lonely. I was relying more and more on just my husband to save me from this whirlpooling vacuum of despair.

Although I love my husband dearly, he can't be my everything.  Nobody can.  I need to see my friends, spend time in my community, look at rejoining a public speaking club and seek out activities that are meaningful to me.

So, from today I am emptying my basket.  I am going to instead have little pods akin to Milkweed seeds.  They will start small, growing and ripening and then bursting open into a beautiful silky transformation to be scattered by the wind.  Seeking out and again starting anew.  Ironically, after reading about Milkweed here on Wikipedia did you know that Milkweed sap is used externally as a natural remedy to poison ivy.  I find that just so symbolic.

To compare my depression to poison ivy is such a great way to visualise it.  To then allow my pods of Milkweed to ripen and have the sap overflow and relieve me is just a great way to think about it.

What will I put in my pods?  I know I will have pods for my friends, pods for my art and creativity, pods for my writing and pods for autism/carers/mental health advocacy.  My pod for my family will remain my largest but will have offshoots allowing me to find fulfilment and helping me to get out of my spiralling despair.  I am also going to grow a pod for public speaking. I love public speaking and for years belonged to a public speaking club so it is time to have a go as us Aussies would say. My most important pod will be my mental health.  I will continue to fill it with my CBT skills, mindfulness and meditation allowing no room for rancid evil head speak and lethargy.

The hardest thing for me to do will be to get started.  To motivate myself and to keep at it.  You my friends, my family and fellow bloggers have permission to enquire, gently question and in fact bloody well nag me about it.

It will take a lot of time, it won't be easy.  I will be stepping out of my comfort zone and I will continue to want to return to the safety of my bed.  But this bed while comfortable and safe is also my rusting stagnating anchor.  I need to to cut anchor and start drifting and see where the tide will take me.  While talking about this I just wanted to share a poem I love that I find also very poignant at the moment.

Home Is the Sailor Home is the sailor, home from sea:      Her far-borne canvas furled The ship pours shining on the quay      The plunder of the world. Home is the hunter from the hill:      Fast in the boundless snare All flesh lies taken at his will      And every fowl of air. 'Tis evening on the moorland free,      The starlit wave is still: Home is the sailor from the sea,      The hunter from the hill.   A.E. Housman

Speaking of home is the sailor.  This is a photo of our Citycats returning to their riverside ports after riding out the floods in safe harbour at beautiful Manly, Qld near where I live.  Love this pic, shows we are survivors and we can come back no matter what Mother Nature throws at us.

Love to you all, take care of your loved family and friends and remember 'fairytales are more than true; not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten' ~ G K Chesterton

You, your dog and the horse you rode in on

For me, I find guilt, shame and paranoia very interconnected.  In a rancid tangled web of dark emotions they taunt and torment me.  Because I am so crippled with these nasty subconsciously self-induced feelings I am very aware that my words here on this blog might at times be a trigger for others.

Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, I never ever intend to use this forum to upset and induce shame and guilt in others.  This is a blog just about my own uptake on my illness and tools etc that I find useful.  My aim is to help recognise and destroy these awful demons. So, please never ever take anything I write to heart or personalise it.  I am on a journey to help myself and if this too helps you then grand.

Now back to my those terrible triplets.  I feel guilty about feeling guilty.  As a Mother, I feel guilty that I am not better, that I do not bake biscuits and give my children store bought biscuits.  I feel guilty that I am sick and not available to my children.  I feel guilty that this may largely impact on the adults they become. And so I could go on forever listing my guilts but I am sure I have made my point.

Guilt leads to shame because to admit to shortcomings whether imagined or not you then feel ashamed.  This shame is such a burden.  You carry it and you stoop, you can't walk tall, there is no way you can look others in the eye.  Your shame denies you equality and this for me leads to paranoia.

Paranoia is so very very awful.  While doing my CBT course I learnt about cognitive distortions.  You learn to label them and it then helps you turn these distortions around into rational thoughts.  So when I think of my paranoia I remind myself it is a cognitive distortion.  How on earth do I really know what other people think.  So I label it as mind reading and jumping to conclusions.  Of course, I really don't know that everyone that crosses my path thinks I am a bad Mother.  They don't look at me and think "did that woman look in the mirror today - surely she can do more about her appearance"  and so on.

In the scheme of things most people will be like me and they rarely look at others and certainly don't think badly of them.  If I do notice someone I usually see the good and if I don't then I empathise and think oh I bet they are having a crap day too.  Paranoia is an exaggerated distrust of others that is not based on fact.  I know my level of paranoia is quite low compared to others who almost cannot exist because their level of paranoia is crippling.  For me to try to and see the funny side of my paranoia helps me get perspective when I am mentally unwell.

Just some funny slants on paranoia.  It is possible for me to laugh about it at times.  But I am only laughing at myself and my own shortcomings.  Please don't see this as a dig at people whose struggle with paranoia is more severe.

In a way my blog is my version of an RET (Rational Emotive Therapy) which was something we learned in CBT.  Rational emotive therapy (RET) is a psychotherapeutic approach which proposes that unrealistic and irrational beliefs cause many emotional problems.  If you want to know more about RET please click here.  It can be very helpful when used in context.  It is not easy, it is hard work and I do recommend you seek professional help before you attempt RET.


So to my frenemy Guilt, it's dog Shame and their horse Paranoia I have something to say to you.

Fuck off okay.  Take your shit and head off to the wasteland of my purged poisonous crap.  No one likes you, no one wants you and no one needs you. You are the weakest link - "Goodbye"

Why are there so many songs about rainbows?

This sweet naive song has today been by lifeline.  I think for a couple of reasons.

Reason 1.  My whole family loved the Muppets.  We watched the Muppets together, we laughed together and we enjoyed the pure naivety of the brilliant Jim Henson.

Reason 2. We also absolutely loved the Muppet Movie.  The first one.  It was fabulous.  We still quote each other from that movie and hold our bellies while we laugh so hard that our bellies ache and ache.

Reason 3. My sister and I as children particularly loved this song.  We sang it over and over again.  We took it in turns, we la de da doo'd with Kermit and we were happy.

Those are the nostalgic reasons I love this song.  So, it is enough that I shed tears just remembering and those tears are joyful tears.

Reason 4. Listen to the lyrics.  They are so simply optimistic and full of naive yearning.

Written by Paul Williams and used by Kermit the Frog, of The Muppets, Jim Henson Productions
Why are there so many songs about rainbows
And what's on the other side?
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,
And rainbows have nothing to hide.
So we've been told and some choose to believe it
I know they're wrong, wait and see.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
The lovers, the dreamers and me.

Who said that every wish would be heard and answered
when wished on the morning star?
Somebody thought of that
and someone believed it,
and look what it's done so far.
What's so amazing that keeps us stargazing?
And what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
the lovers, the dreamers and me.

All of us under its spell,
we know that it's probably magic....

Have you been half asleep
and have you heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name.
Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors?
The voice might be one and the same.
I've heard it too many times to ignore it.
It's something that I'm supposed to be.
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
the lovers, the dreamers and me.
La, la la, La, la la la, La Laa, la la, La, La la laaaaaaa



This song is so full of promise.  It called to me today and I have played it over and over again and I want to be full of promise too. I know that wishing on stars and thinking of rainbows is something we have all done as children but also adults.  I have lost that promise.

So I cried also, because this sweet sweet song reminded me that my emptiness is my loss of promise and optimism.  My loss of belief.  The belief that I could wish on the morning star and perhaps find the rainbow connection.  No matter how silly and childish it sounds deep down we all do it and believe it.

So Kermie my charming handsome frog.  You have given me much solace today.  And I know you know me too.  You sing it's not easy being green.  I sing it's not easy being me.  But one day we'll find it, that rainbow connection the lovers, the dreamers and ME.

Dearest Friends, have been thinking about you all today and the joy you have given me, the support, the strength and sometimes the plain right to just be me.
Take care
Laura

This one goes out to the one I 'Need'

Dear Doctor
Do you think of me when you drive away in your plush luxurious European car.  Not that I know what car you drive nor do I care but I bet it is plush and European.  When you get home and you change from your designer professional threads into your designer comfortable threads do you think about me.  When you wake from sleep in your 8000 count Egyptian cotton sheets do you think of me.  When you get to work and write your scripts with your montblanc pen do you think of me.

Because while I am in hospital and waiting to see you I think of you.  While I dress in my threadbare clothes and go to the same group sessions that are on each week I think of you.  I eat the same bland hospital food and think of you.  While I take the same medication I have been on for years I think of you.

I wonder if you think that that once a week rushed session is worthy of me.  You know the sessions, where you tell me that I am phobic of my son and that because I was fine in hospital I should be fine at home.  Do you think of me as I wonder if you are right and yes I failed again.

I wonder if you think of me when my children cry for me at home.  Do you think of me when I wait each day hoping you will make time to see me. Do you think of me while I wonder if you have explored all options and avenues.

The more I wonder if you think of me I am finding the less I think of you.

Australia's Symbol for Mental Health Awareness

The Flannel Flower, an Australian native, is a national symbol to promote awareness of mental health.

The Flannel Flower is commonly found growing wild in the Australian bush, which has a wonderful inherent beauty and strength and is known for its extremes of weather and landscape.

To survive the extremes of Australia's climate the Flannel Flower has had to be adaptable, in the same way all of us, regardless of our life circumstances, need to develop resilience and the ability to adapt to change, in order to strengthen and maintain our mental health.

The Flannel Flower, with its soft silky texture, encourages contact and is though to help people express their feelings verbally and to develop sensitivity.

Being open and empathetic to a person's expression of distress can help not only the recovery of a person experiencing mental illness, but to change the negative attitudes of our society to mental illness.

This has come directly from here which is the Mental Health Council of Australia.  I just wanted to share this with you as I found it very appropriate.

I often think of the story of the Oak tree.


Once there was an oak tree that grew in a field it shared with tall willowy grass. Day by day the wind blew across the field of the proud oak. The mighty oak stood firm while the grass bowed at its passing.

One day the oak asked the grass, “Why do you bow when the wind passes?” The grass replied, “It is proper to do so.” The oak stood tall and firm to show the grass its wisdom and might. Day after day the wind blew by. Day after day the grass bowed while the mighty oak stood proudly at the wind passing.

One day the wind had and urgent call far off and far away. It moved through the field faster and stronger than it had ever done before. The grass did as it always did and bowed at its passing. The oak did as it always did and stood proud. The wind persisted to its quest far off. Stand as it might, the wind tore the mighty oak from its roots and through the proud oak to the ground.

When the wind had passed, the great oak laid on its side dying. With its final words it asked the grass, “Why has this happened to me?”

The grass gently bowed.

This is a wonderful analogy and continues to remind me that being flexible and open to change will allow you to adapt and survive.  Don't stand still and allow your pride to come before a fall.

Just a quick post for me tonight.  I went to my first art class tonight since coming back in to hospital on Monday.  I love art but I needed the five days to reflect, write and restore.  Tonight I worked with charcoal.  It is a wonderful medium to work with and one I want to work with again.  I got filthy and it was great.  Will take a pic and post it soon I promise.

If you are heading to bed, kiss your loved ones goodnight, tell them you love them because I can't tell mine and I wish I could.

Laura

A Life Less Ordinary

Thou shalt not be a victim
Thou shalt not be a perpetrator
Above all, thou shalt not be a bystander
as written on the wall at the Holocaust Museum, Washington DC

We, at times in our lives have all guiltily been a bystander.  As a child, in the playground, watching the bully belittling and terrorising.  We were grateful for not being sought out, or perhaps too afraid to stand up even though we innately knew it was wrong.  Sadly, it starts in the playground and once a bystander forever a bystander will be.  It carries on into high school.  You only have to watch Mean Girls to get a snapshot of what life is like for kids in high school now.

Even in Tertiary Education where most students would consider themselves enlightened, believers of equal rights, not many would take the time to help right a wrong.  Oh, for the '60's when we fought for what we believed in.  We marched for peace, we fought for free speech, woman burned bra's and everyone listened to Martin Luther King and cried when he was assassinated.  And how can you not be inspired by the below powerful image from Tiananmen Square.

What has happened to us.  Why are we so comfortable to watch on the sidelines when people are belittled, tormented, berated and treated unfairly.  You only have to watch any coverage of our darling pollies to see them also belittle, torment, berate and bully each other.  THESE PEOPLE are running our country.  They think that it is acceptable to name call and bully to get their point across.  WHY?  I want to know when this behaviour became acceptable.  When did we become so desensitized?

Workplace bullying is rife.  It is given lip service in the media but why would changes be made when our Government the one we voted in the people we chose, carry on with playground bullying.  What hope is there for change to happen.

I too, have been guilty for remaining silent in the past.  But one day I stopped.  I had to.  I was suddenly the Mother of a disabled child.  In silence, our community saw us sell our house to fund his therapy.  In silence, our Government allowed us to slip below the poverty line.  Years later in silence, I allowed this to break me.  In silence, I curled up and like a foetus sought solace in the darkness of my room seeking the same safe womb I knew as a baby.

For many years I used every opportunity to talk about what autism is and what it meant for us and how easy (with funding) organisations like Autism Qld can provide support and early intervention.  Early intervention makes the world of difference - it is a proven fact.  Not just in kids with autism but in many disabilities.  But Early Intervention is just what is says "intervention that must be early".  No point doing something when they are 30.   The earlier you start the better.  We knew this, we sold our house and our beautiful son will hopefully be an active, able member of our community.  He most likely will not need a disability pension.  We have probably saved the tax payers millions.

If I ran into someone 'famous' I would try and talk to them about this, I would ask for their autograph or for some form of celebrity memorabilia to be sold to help fund 'Early Intervention' for Autism Qld.  I rang the newspapers, sent emails to the editors, wrote to members of parliament, asked my family members to write to their members.  I tried and tried and tried.  I refused to be silent about an issue that was so very very important.

Now, I am again facing another battle.  This battle is a battle for my life.  I do not have a terminal illness. But I do have a mental illness.  This illness fills my head with falsehoods and dark dirty messages telling me I am worthless and mean nothing and really it would be better for everyone if I was dead.

I am trying so hard to ignore those poisonous rotten messages.  I keep thinking of my precious family and friends who, I know think I am worthwhile.  But I have found there are some people out there who don't understand depression.  That is fine.  I don't have a problem with that.  I just wish they could be silent about it.  How hypocritical of me.  I want to have my say but am denying others from that same right.

What I have done instead, is cut them from my life.  They are allowed to think and say what they like.  We will choose to disagree.  But in my quest for wellness, I will only surround myself with people who believe in me.  People who will not be silent but instead people who will stand up for me.

Thank you for standing up for me.  I am trying to get strong enough to stand up for myself and one day I will be a force to be reckoned with.  I will never remain silent.  I will advocate for the rights of the mentally ill, the rights of the disabled and the rights of their carers.

If you are interested in also ending your silence go here Every Australian Counts  which is a new initiative launched by National Disability Insurance Scheme.  They hope to revolutionise the way people with a disability, their families and carers are supported in this country.


As Martin Luther King proudly and loudly has stood up and cried "Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter"

So I am crying out and telling you I matter.  What I stand for matters.  My family and friends matter.  My beliefs matter.  And any person who is a carer of a disabled person/child matters.  We need to support each other, and voice by single voice choral a chant that we matter, that we will be heard and that we will demand not just change but improvement.

My two gorgeous kids and I celebrating Autism Qld's Dress Different Day a couple of years ago.

Take care, “Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and despair but manifestations of strength and resolution” ~ Kahlil Gibran


Laura 
xx

Letting Go

Have you seen the film clip for Powderfinger's song 'Burn Your Name'. Before you read any further go here and scroll down and watch the film clip.  I will never ever forget this film clip.  Firstly I heard the song on the radio and being a 'finger fan loved loved loved it.  THEN, I saw the film clip.  I cried.  I bawled my eyes out.  It meant so much to me.

I have since found out this is the Yi Peng Festival held in Thailand mid to late November each year.  Tubular lanterns, resembling hot air balloons are lit and released into the night sky as an offering to Buddha.  It is a beautiful spectacular symbolic letting go.

Recently I took my kids to see Tangled.  Another Disney fabulosity.  A rehash of Rapunzel and it is a fantastic movie.  Part of the movie also has a Lantern Festival.  Without spoiling it for people who have not seen the movie this Lantern Festival is also annual and signifies loss and yearning.

I wanted to talk about my inability to let go.  I am a hoarder.  I have every single letter ever sent to me.  Do I read them? No.  I have every single concert and movie ticket I have ever been too.  I am not as bad as some hoarders you see sometimes on A Current Affair.  Hoarding is an illness.  Part of my hoarding has also been holding onto relationships that have long burnt out or become toxic.  When I read a book and I hate it I must finish it.  I do things in a certain way, I cannot change the way I do it.  I know how I live my life is not working.  I mean seriously, I am writing this in a psychiatric hospital.  I am here because I have given up on myself.

I need to learn new ways.  I need to change the way I think, change how I think about myself, change what is important and let go what is not.  I need to remember who my friends/family are and not take them for granted but instead rejoice that they stand up for me and they have not given up on me.

Why am I letting the toxicity of the minority continue to tear me apart.  They have proven they are not important in my life.  They have proven they are shallow uncaring people who cannot see past their own selfish lifestyles.  So why should I care.  I am not going to anymore.

When I get home like my darling Bernard from Powderfinger (who is secretly in love with me even though he doesn't know it) I am going to write the poisons and toxic shit in my life onto a lantern.  I am going to cover it with everything in my life I want to change or let go.  I am going to light the flame and send it off into the universe.  Let the universe deal with it. The universe can decide for me and I will be free.

Ralph Waldo Emerson says "For every minute you are angry you lose sixty seconds of happiness"

Last night was a difficult night because I had to make a decision about letting go of some toxic things in my life.  It was only then that I realised this.  Friends are friends - if friends feel that they can replace you with others people then they aren't your friends and they will always have tenuous friendships because they are looking for someone who is more fun, more rich, more popular more whatever - but to me friends are friends.

I love my friends for who they are.  I know their faults, they know mine.  We love each other anyway.

I have also discovered that you don't forgive those who have wronged you for their sake.  You do it for yours.  WOW. BIG FAT HAIRY WOW.  That is something I never got.  I always thought I was forgiving and was a better person for it.  But really I wasn't fully forgiving because I still carried it. Now I know I forgive others for myself not for them.  I forgive so I can let it go, forget it, lighten my load and carry on.

So to end again I say be kind to others.  It takes very little to accept and acknowledge we are all very very human and need love, support and understanding.  Once again, if this is not possible then do nothing.  Don't gossip, backstab, or denigrate - just do nothing.

Take care
Laura

For Whom The Bell Tolls

I must confess I read this poem in another blog and just wanted to share it with you.   Firstly, I want to dedicate this to my friend who farewells her Mother tomorrow after a brave and courageous fight with cancer.

For Whom the Bell Tolls (No Man is an Island) by John Donne

No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.

I also wanted to talk about my own personal perspective on this poem.  It is a lovely powerful piece.  For me it reminds me that we are all interconnected.  What injustice we inflict on others we inflict on ourselves.  What pain we cause others will also pain ourselves.  A bit new agish perhaps for some but bare with me while I ruminate.  (A much better word then rant would you agree?)

In the dim dark ages we lived in caves. We belonged to clans because we needed help to protect and feed our young.  As we became more civilised as did our lives.  We lived in villages we may have toiled the earth for our master but we were fed and protected.  We continued in our growth and villages became towns and these towns became cities.  And still in the thousands upon thousands of years of our existence it is still true; 'No man is an island'.

Now I would like to bring this back to the level of friendships.  We need each other.  We hold each other in our sad times, we applaud and congratulate in our happy times.  Why then do we hurt each other.  I am not talking about medieval dark ages where tyranny ran rife or the cold war or terrorism or aggressively asserting opinions over others.

I am talking about us.  Each individual who is stands alone a frail and lonely person were it not for our friends. (I include family in this term of friends).

It is very hard to sometimes understand why something has happened when you have no idea why.  It hurts you and you will dwell on it.  If you are like me and you have mental health issues you won't just dwell on it - you will obsess over it.  To the point, where you will forget about the friends who have stood by you.  And that is doing such a disservice to your true and loyal friends.

So, over the next few days my true and loyal friends I am going to think about you.  I am going to remember why we are friends, how we met, how we got up to mischief, the fun we have had and also the times we have been there for each other.   You all know who you are.  Some of you I see regularly, some hardly ever, but you are all as dear to me as you ever were.

To my friends - The bell tolls for thee.  I love you all so much.

This is not a Pity Party

I really really don't understand some people.  You are there for them in their deepest darkest moments.  You help them as much as you are able to.  This is help that comes with no strings, has no expectations but is something you do as a neighbour, community member and dare I say it friend.  You admire them for their strength, you are grateful to them for their support because your child has special needs and they in better times reached out to you.

But all of a sudden when you too are suffering and yes it may be a different suffering then you are vilified and gossiped about.   Am I not allowed to also have other feelings.  I really don't understand it at all.  I have never gossiped or been malicious towards anyone as it goes against my whole core beliefs.  Like Ghandi my religion is kindness.  I have always believed kindness is the answer.  If I had ever done anything to warrant ill treatment, I at least believe I deserve an explanation.  To kick a dog when their down is very inhumane so what does it mean to kick a human when they are down.  My blog is my own personal journey and I know I must be doing something right because I have had many many wonderful emails and messages from both friends and strangers thanking me.  They are grateful that they are are not alone, or that they have learned about depression or even just damn proud of my courage.

It is truly sad that in your deepest darkest times, you are not able to gather people around you and allow them to help you lift yourself and rise above it all.  Particularly, when you can also help other people who are feeling depressed.  I can't go out shopping all day to avoid my feelings.  I don't have the financial capacity for one nor the mental wellness either.  I am simply unable to get out of bed most days.  This is not my choosing. If it was up to me I would be up and at em every day.  Getting out there, laughing, chinning it up and so on.  I am barely struggling at the moment to stay alive.

As mentioned in previous blogs we have been suffering financial hardship.  This is not just oh the poor dear can't afford to get to the day spa this week.  This is the poor dear can't buy food for her kids this week.  It is embarrassing to admit it.  We have had to rely on food parcels.  This is not from financial mismanagement.  We don't gamble, we don't smoke and now we don't even drink.  I must also say that before we even sought any kind of help from charity I sold every single piece of gold jewellery including my eternity ring.  I drew the line at my engagement and wedding ring.  I sold the vast majority of our dvd's including the kids ones.  I sold my GHD and did all this to feed my kids.  We have been dealt some crap in our life and we have found it hard to get on top of it.  I never wrote more about it this because it is so humiliating.  How do you tell your kids that this year they can't have school photos because the $20 per child for the basic package is just so far out of reach.

We have tried very hard not to go down the whole woe is me route.  We have done everything we can to avoid relying on charity.  But when you have sold your house to fund autism therapy for your child which has also seen you max out your credit cards so you can help them learn to speak and socialise and then to be dealt even more bad luck it is pretty hard not to start feeling sorry for yourself.

I am not sharing this to get pity.  We want to stand on our own two feet.  But it is not easy.  I watch my friends enjoying lovely outings, events and holidays and I am glad for them.  I don't resent their good times.   My friends deserve them.   But it is soul destroying to time and time again to pay your rent, pay your bills and then at best survive only to have people who you thought you could count on to cut you out of their life and leave you wondering why.

I don't like it that I have had to address this in a public forum but I refuse to be drawn in to games and innuendos on facebook.

The Ugly Truth

Just a quickie - I am back in hospital.  My problem - I have not been walking the walk just talking the talk.  I have been writing and delving deep into what goes on in my head and although it has been cathartic; I would not say it has helped me.  Well, at least not yet.

And honestly, apart from writing my blog I was not functioning at all.  I woke up - took my meds - went back to sleep.  Woke up - ate something, took my meds - went back to sleep.  Woke up - asked my husband to make me a grilled cheese on toast (it really is the best food in the world) - took my meds and went back to sleep.  So that was my day to day life.  The only thing positive was writing.

My poor children.  I walked them into school this morning.  It was pouring with rain.  Normally we have umbrellas in the car but my darling husband who cleaned the car for me forgot to put them back in.  Well, it was the end of the world for me.  I was crying, my kids were crying - it was pretty ugly.  They are expecting me to pick them up from school this afternoon.  My poor bubbas.  I am so so heart broken that I am not a good Mummy for them.

I have found it very difficult to face people too.  Some people have been very kind, understanding and supportive and have made it very easy for me.  Others, have not.  Now this is by no means a criticism, because some people just don't understand depression and/or some people have stuff going on in their life I may not know about or understand.  That is ok.  But if I don't talk to you it is because I am terrified about what you think of me.  I am terrified you will turn your back on me and I am terrified that you are laughing at me.

My illness is an awful invisible illness.  It makes me paranoid, it makes me hate myself and this morning I had to confess to my Mother that I was scared for my own personal safety.  Scared because I am an impulsive person who sometimes does not think things through.  I was scared to tell Mum this but also scared of the outcome if I did not tell her.

My failings have brought me back into hospital, my failings have taken me away from my family and my failings have made me ashamed.

Sheen has lost his Shine and Who Cares

I mean really.

I have no qualms in confessing that back in the Wall Street and Platoon days I had quite the crush on naughty Charlie.  But am really at a loss at the furore building and not yet peaking over his current behaviour.  Now I know giving him some time in this blog I am being a little hypocritical but bear with me.  Why oh why does anyone care.  Am I the only disinterested person here.  Please please tell me there is more then one person in the world who just does not give a crap.

I am sick and tired of badly behaved celebrities. I am sick and tired that these people are even considered role models.  What is so interesting about a person who is so woe is me because they have a high pressured job remembering a couple of lines for a sitcom and gets paid a squillion dollars for this.  I am sure you would all agree we would like to get paid this kind of money for the same level of pressure.  If I was paid according to my level of pressure I would be nudging Bill Gates and the likes down a notch in the Fortune 500 table.

We are all entitled to enjoy a bit of gossip.  I love a bit of gossip.  But I am at a loss of words that there is such a frenzy over badly behaved over paid soap stars.

There are much more interesting stories out there. Most ordinary people have extraordinary moments in their lives.  Remember that - we are ordinary people but we have extraordinary moments.  We give birth, we volunteer, we support our friends, we make sacrifices for our children, we stand up for what we believe in and all of these things prove we really are extraordinary. Each and every single one of us.

If you have been reading my blog for awhile you will know that I have been struggling with my mental health.  I am one of hundreds of thousands of unsung heroes across Australia.  I am a carer.  I care for a disabled child.  There are carers who care for their partners who may suffer dementia, there are carers who care for a teminally ill family member and carers who care for the disabled. Carers are Mums, Dads, Husbands, Wives, Grandparents, Siblings, Daughter, Son, Grandchild and even friend.

To the world we are just one but to the person we care for we are their whole world.  Do we get any support or help.  No not really.  If you are lucky like me you will have a supportive network of family and friends but many have no-one.  Our Government allow the majority of us to live below the poverty level, provide no long term infrastructure for ongoing support and for this privilege most of us receive a carers' payment of about $106 a fortnight.  Pretty cool hey.  It so helps us cover all the costs associated with caring for our family member.  It re-compensates us for not being able to work, to cover transportation costs to medical appointments and therapy appointments as well as the cost of these appointments.  It covers the cost of their medication, the equipment and resources we may need to assist with their ongoing care and not to mention the special diet some may need.  With the change we are able to get along to the day spa once a week for a much needed pamper and then off to a posh lunch with a glass of champagne.  Hahahaha had you going there.

I haven't even raised the issue of respite.  A much needed break that most carer's never receive.  The whole system sucks.  The only way we can change it is to lobby, fight and be outspoken.  Many of us just do not have any energy left.  We are drained and sapped from our daily strain, worry and physical exertion.

Many of us (me included) have lost our houses, are in debt to our eyeballs and are so stretched financially that we survive on (at times) handouts from family (if you are lucky) and sometimes charity.  It is humiliating, it grinds you down.  But you are still the world to the person you care for.  They rely on you and of course you love them.

This grind became too much for me.  I was tired.  I had carried my load for too long.  It wore me down.  My back was bent and I could no longer see ahead because I could only look down.  Worry for my son, worry about money, and other stressful issues broke my back and broke my heart.

I became almost catatonic.  I had given up.  I begged my husband to find a better Mother and Wife for my family.  It upsets me to admit but I was thinking of ways to die.  I wondered if I should drive my car in front of a truck or just step in front of one.  I even had gone as far as thinking this must not happen at home.  I don't want my family to find me.  I just wanted the hole in my heart to go away and the pain of life to end.  There was only a very fine tether keeping me here in the present.  It led from my heart to my children.  I could never allow them to think that their Mother chose to abandon them.  It was my only saving grace.

I find this very hard to admit.  But from the day I went into hospital I promised myself and my family I would be honest with my psychiatrist, I would be honest with myself.  I would do everything I could and I would do it with everything I had.

So excuse me if you find me different at the moment.  I am still not whole.  I don't do small talk very well as I am fighting a fight that is so very difficult.  I can't accept ridiculous behaviour from people who have money and access to the very best support money can buy.

So Sheen's shine is gone but I am working on my own.  The shine must come from within.  So you may not see it yet.  It will start as a faint faint glow and slowly effervesce and bubble over.

If you are reading this and you are feeling you need help, please please please ring Lifeline.  Also, when you are able please donate to Lifeline or similar organisations.  Because to the world we are one, but to one we are the world.  That person or people who are special in your life also think you are special in their life.  So really that makes us all special.

It has been a long road to get to the stage where I could write honestly and brutally about my deepest darkest thoughts.  I am clawing back.  My heart is scabbed over and will scar.  This scar will be a forever fragility.  It will remind me on a daily basis I have to work at my mental health.

So until my next post as I keep repeating, be kind, be tolerant, and be grateful.
Take care
Laura

Ego is not a dirty word

Skyhooks are just a tad too early for me to have had to choose between them and Sherbet.  From what I understand under no circumstances could you like both.  It was either one or the other and never the two shall meet.  I do remember them though and I remember this song "Ego is Not a Dirty Word".  I will share some of the lyrics shortly but far out.  This song is not only from the early seventies but also from an Aussie band.

Us Aussies are the most self deprecating of all.  You are not allowed to love yourself.  No way.  I remember at high school that if you displayed an iota of self confidence you were so far up yourself you needed a street directory to find your way out.  We all thought it, some said it.  That tall poppy syndrome - something only us Aussies inflicted on anyone who showed any talent or innovation.

It is little wonder that many of us have low self-esteem and no idea how to be our own friend.  We are great at listening to our friends, helping them out, dishing out advice when asked, taking time out to be there for them.  But you would never dare to stop and think that you too deserve this same treatment.  I mean really who are you to ask for help, who are you to ask for advice, how dare you not cope - not manage - fall apart.  What a freaking double standard.  And this is a freaking double standard most of us impose on ourselves.  From now on I will no longer be a martyr and suffer in silence.  I will listen to myself and be my own friend.

 Anyway, back to those lyrics.
Verse 1:
If I did not have an ego I would not be here tonight 
If I did not have an ego I might not think that I was right 
If you did not have an ego you might not care the way you dressed 
If you did not have an ego you'd just be like the rest 



Verse 3:
Some people keep their egos in a bottom drawer
A fridge full of Leonard Cohen
Have to get drunk just to walk out the door
Stay drunk to keep on goin'
So if you got an ego
You better keep it in good shape
Exercise it daily
And get it down on tape 


Pretty powerful stuff hey.  The chorus is simply Ego is not a dirty word, don't you believe what you've seen or heard.


I know for me I have a life long habit of self-loathing and negative head talk to change.  This is a habit that will be hard to shift and change.  But I am going to.  I am going to first pretend.  Pretend I have an ego, pretend I am a good friend to myself, act it out and then perhaps start believing.  I hear and I forget. I see and I remember. I do and I understand.  Confucius

I will never let myself hate myself again.  I am going to work at loving myself.  I will continue to write my blog to help me.  I will seek to inspire and encourage empowerment.  I will remind myself of these things on a daily basis.  If you too need to hear this on a daily basis then copy and paste this to your desktop to remind yourself.

Now between you and me - maybe today I can leave my bedroom where I have been hiding and venture out for the first time since Monday's shaky visit to my kids' school.  I will be the little red caboose that could.

Take care and remember a good friend sees the first tear, catches the second and stops the third. We can all do this not just for our friends but for ourselves.
Laura
xx

Everyone is entitled to their own pain

We all, at times in our lives deal with pain. A pain that at that point is just unbearable for us.  There are many reasons we have pain and mostly and thankfully it is short lived, we get over it and we move on.  At other times it may be much much harder.  Grief in any shape or form is one of the hardest of all to bear.  Grief also comes in many shapes and forms.  A loved one lost, a broken relationship or loving and coping with a disabled child.

What is important is that our pain is our cross to bear.  You cannot compare, there is no competition.  A person feeling short term pain because they have been made redundant is as entitled to feel pain as is a person who has suffered a miscarriage.  Yes it is comparing apples to oranges but it does not reduce the entitlement either person has to feel that pain.

If you are anything like me you will often think why can I not get over this.  After all so and so has to contend with such and such - if you get my drift.  But by doing this I am truly doing myself a disservice and belittling my right to feel pain.

When my son was two, he was diagnosed with autism.  From birth he had many struggles and issues.  And I dealt with this whilst feeling very isolated and removed from family.  You see at this time we were living in Mackay. This all contributed to my post natal depression.  I can remember "The Day" like it was yesterday.  I was still recovering from the birth of my daughter.  I was naive and did not for one moment really think the paediatrician would confirm the autism diagnosis.  Yes my husband and I had googled it, discussed it and probably resigned ourselves to this. But I was still irrationally hopeful.  So hopeful that I attended this appointment alone.  My husband was at work, my Mum was 1000 odd kilometres away in Brisbane.

I had to walk out of that hospital with my two year old son and my new born.  I had to walk out with a broken heart.  Like a near death experience the life my son may never have flashed before my eyes.  I saw a lonely childhood, a troubled puberty, an insular existence, no celebrated milestones, no fearfully handing over the car keys after obtaining his licence, no girlfriend, no job, no marriage, no children no joy.  I will talk further about my son in a later post.  But, what I felt at that time was so devastating.  I still carry this devastation with me every day of my life.  Because at nine we still don't know what is in store for our beloved son.

Your children are all your hopes and dreams come true.  They are your walking talking heartbeat.  I still have hopes and dreams for both my children.  But for my son they have become foggy, they are not as clear, they are more distant and somehow far more raw.

However, I don't see this grief as a more substantial more 'important' grief then someone whose child perhaps has a club leg or a lisp.  Their issue IS their grief.  They are entitled to worry and be upset as much as I am about my son or someone else would be if their child was diagnosed with leukaemia. Yes the degrees of grief are vastly different.  You can't compare but once again without sounding like a broken record every person with any worry is entitled to feel pain and grief.

Being guilty about grief is a very dark and downward spiral.  It adds to your depression.  It does nothing to help you.  What you need is to own it.  Acknowledge it, let it go if you can.  If you are still not able to let it go then put in a box for when you are ready to let it go.

As the Dalai Lama says "Our prime purpose in this life is to help others.  And if you can't help them, at least don't hurt them."

So, take this from me, a person who is battling daily just to breathe.  If you are not able to be kind or supportive, then at least be silent.  That takes no energy.

I write this blog for me.  This is part of my journey to well being.  It helps me formulate thoughts, face fears, deal with pain and acknowledge my depression.  I make it public because depression is more then an emotion, it is a disease.  If I educate and help one person understand then I have done my job.

Take care of each other, we all need kindness.
Laura
xx

Some Days are Diamonds

Throughout my journey fighting depression I have tried to keep my posts very positive and very constructive.  This is not just to help me but also I am mindful of anyone reading this who may be a fellow depression sufferer.  I wanted to show that with the right tools, the right support and mindset it was possible to work through it.  Not necessarily beat it, but day by day or even minute by minute breath in, breath out and take a step forward.

Coming home from hospital since Friday I have really struggled.  I knew it would be hard.  I reasonably (at the time) thought as issues arose I would dig out my CBT book (probably 150 pages plus) flick through find the tool I needed and yep fix it.  Far out.  This was so far from a reasonable expectation it would be like diving to the bottom of the sea while holding your breath rather then set up with full scuba gear.

It was my sister's 40th celebration on Saturday night. I only have one sibling and I missed it.

                                                         She looks beautiful doesn't she as does my niece

I know she understands that to be in a room with a lot of people, particularly people I don't know was too much for me.  But you only turn 40 once.  Mum was telling me about how much fun she had dancing at the party.  The more I think of that the more tearful I get because I can't imagine ever wanting to dance again.

For some depression is a chemical imbalance which can be helped with medication.  For others it can be due to post traumatic stress, anxiety disorders, and many other causes (please realise I am no expert).  My depression has been an ongoing battle for many years and came to crisis point very early in the new year.  It stems from poorly treated post natal depression and situational crises beyond my control.

So, for some coming home from a lengthy stay in hospital hopefully sees them slowly adjusting. They have their medication under control and perhaps have worked through therapy and CBT and now have a good foundation to move onwards and upwards.

I have returned home to the same crises, the same pressures.  They won't go away and I am still not facing these issues from a position of strength.  Life in hospital is a safe cocoon but it is not reality.  So for now I am just trying to one minute at a time deal with my reality.  I inhale, I exhale, I tear up, I inhale, I exhale, my bottom lip quivers, I inhale, I exhale, I sigh, I inhale, I exhale, I hold my head high, I inhale, I exhale, I take a step forward.

I am in a very tenuous time.  I am very determined because I am so sick and tired of being sick and tired.  I don't want to just exist I want to live.  I want to be exhilarated.  I want to ask myself what would you do if you were not afraid and then to answer I want to live.

My diamond days are hopefully just around the corner but presently my days are stone.  I will carry that weight sometimes stooping and cowering from the burden but I will slowly chip away until my load lightens.

We all have diamond days we all have stone days.  Just remember this and be kind to all.  Be kind to the cranky their stone days may just be too much to bear.  Be patient with the impatient they are racing to a finish line we can't see.  Be tolerant to the intolerant as they can't see their day from behind their stone.
As always, take care
Laura