Intellectual and Spiritual Impotency

Well, I am stuck. Words are not flowing and ideas are stagnant. Before Xmas I had a better idea of which direction I was going in and felt a lot more peaceful than I did at the beginning of the year. My sons fathers death kind of threw me and all my intelligence just dried up. I am unfocused and I cannot concentrate. I am also really tired - more tired than usual and everything makes me slightly angry. Nature makes me cry more than ever and I cannot be bothered socialising at all. I guess I am grieving in a angry, hollow, very unspiritual way. Funny that, considering we were far from being friends and I cannot count the times that I wished he would drop dead. Be careful what you wish for! The Universe was definitely listening and displayed its true awesome power that day. I'm not sad that he is dead, I am just sad that he had to die. I spend all my life trying to discover my "true potential". He obviously didn't feel that he deserved his true potential or that it was to scary and maybe he wouldn't know what to do with it if he found it. Hell, I don't know either! I guess I've got that "keep going" button, even if I am terrified. Maybe thats what made us different and unable to communicate. Who knows.........I am going to let it go and, UNIVERSE, PLEASE GIVE ME BACK MY MOJO!!!!

My Sons Father is Dead.

Well, so he has gone to the great palace in the sky. My sons dad committed suicide Xmas day night and I got a heartbreaking phone call from his girlfriend whom I am very fond of and my world spun out of control. I always knew that he was depressed and has attempted suicide in the past. I tried so hard to get him help but he was not interested. I have known this man for 14 years and we have not been together for at least 12 of those. He committed atrocious acts against me in that time and never wanted to know his son until a couple of years ago and that was largely due to his girlfriend. I did not trust him and I haboured alot of hatred against him. I am not angry that he committed suicide (I have been in that place many times), I am angry that I spent 15 years dealing with 3 mental illnesses, tonnes of meds, therapy and hospital admissions all so I could be a better parent and stay alive long enough to start feeling better. He obviously did not feel that way and when I look at my beautiful son I wonder how he could not at least tried to lessen his suffering by getting the help he needed? My mother asked that I let my anger go. It cannot do me any good so in sympathy with that thought -

Rest in Peace Ismal, I loved you once - enough to create our beautiful son....... May God be with you and I have forgiven you.


God give me strength.

Peace at Xmas

Here we are - Xmas 2009. It has come upon us as quickly as ever and as usual it gives us a reminder of sacrifice, goodwill and being true to oneself. It also reminds us of family and the not so fortunate - animal and human alike and binds us for one day in the celebration of the birth of Jesus and all he represented. Let us remember that we humans are not infallible nor are we immortal and the earth does not belong to any one species. We are guests on this amazing fragile planet so I will in great reverence and humility give thanks for all that mother earth has provided for myself and my family and hope that I am worthy to receive it again in the years to come. Good luck and good fortune to all out there, especially to all those who are lost and cannot find their way. I will pray for you. Merry Xmas and celebrate life!!

The Demon Run

I am on a freight train of mortality. I am wise enough now to understand the gravity of feeling well, or, what I imagine it feels like. I constantly dream of flying, trekking lush mountains, skimming across the top of the white crested oceans and opening my eyes after a long, life-giving sleep and feeling bliss. One might think these dreams are liberating, a portent of things to come. Not so. I wake feeling such painful longing, deep sadness, irrational grief and gut-wrenching fear. It is supernatural in its intensity as I feel my body attacking itself, in chaos ripping itself apart. I have no control now. I have to leave it to the professionals to make some sense of all this illness. I do not feel entirely powerless over the course of action I am prepared to take. I know that the universe is on my side and the unshakable belief that since I have been this sick, I have attracted a guardian. Unseen, untouchable but protector nonetheless. This is the first time in all these frightening years that I have felt this protector. It is a sign. So I shall breathe with peace and purpose, even if I feel none and be thankful for all that I am and have. Time is marked by my baby Coco dog as she sits at our back door, melting into the night as her coat matches the darkness. Forever vigilant, protecting her mistress and guiding her home with the navigation of the moon. I know who my unseen protector is. It is in the wise eyes of my supernatural dog. Her eyes that occasionally rest on me and say "I know you more than you have ever been known, I love you unconditionally and I will protect you to the death". Maybe I have loved her before. She is the talisman that is my protection against all that is death and evil. Welcome to the Demon Run.

Final Showdown

I am faced with a difficult and somewhat terrifying situation. It is a remote possibility that my dysfunctional thyroid could explain alot of my mental health issues. What I don't understand is why this was never explored with more depth. Surely, if your thyroid doesn't look normal, then you would assume that it is not behaving normally. I have felt physically ill for about 3 years on and off and it has always been put down to stress or mental health, or, lack thereof. The hardest part is waiting for the answers and the what ifs? So I press on and bear the symptoms, try and find a comfortable place in my mind and await the inevitable. God give me strength.

Surgery and the protection of loved ones

Well I am looking at having to have surgery on my thyroid. My poor little thyroid which isn't so little anymore has to have bit of intervention. I have an auto immune disease which causes cysts and nodules over a cm in diameter (in me) which is quite large for a little organ. I am desperately trying to avoid a thyroidectomy but we will wait and see what the surgeon says. I am fascinated by the science of auto immune and am looking at the outcome clinically. It prevents me from feeling and being overwhelmed. One day at a time. On a more scary note(!) we were woken at 4.30 this morning by my baby chihuahua barking and crying her head off. It was the most terrifying sound I have ever heard. It sounded like a child. My blood ran ice cold and I couldn't breathe. I pushed my poor partner out of bed screaming like a banshee saying "Help her, help her, please honey help her! I continued to yell out to her while my partner and I stumbled down the stairs. My poor son was awake by this stage and he ran down with us. Coco, my ever beautiful, courageous and fiercely scary dog had cornered the next door neighbours cat in the living room! The cat is the same size. We had to restrain the dog and release the cat outside. Bloody hell. IT is situations like that reinforce how protective I am of my family and that I am definitely driven by a tidal wave of instincts. My reaction was not proactive, I completely panicked and ran blindly into the situation. I am worried that I may do the same if I thought my son was in trouble. I am shocked by the way I behaved. Despite my deficits I have always been good in a crisis. Maybe I am starting to let out some of my fear and not storing it up all the time. Maybe I am learning how to be scared and not think that it will kill me. Tell me a scary story and how you dealt with it.

Living truth

I spend most of my life attempting to be true to myself and everyone around me. Why do I always feel like such a fake? I seek truth on my illness, my identity, my value system, my allegiance to my own kind and my role as a parent. I have been told that everyone questions this at some time in their lives but that notion does not alleviate the hollowness and persistent, painful and terrifying notion that I am missing something very important. The innate comfort of knowing that I am human. You could argue that my mental heath history sets the mood for delusional and irrational behaviour and I don't disagree, however, doesn't everyone have their human foundations shaken once in a while? Mental health is not exclusive nor is it uncommon yet it is often overlooked. If you tell people you have cancer, you immediately get the understanding and the empathy. You are seen as a fighter of the cause. If you tell people that you are mentally ill, there is more of a delayed reaction and a resounding "Ohhhh. I'm so sorry". End of discussion. People don't ask about treatment, duration of the illness or how it came about. When are we getting our ribbon? HIV and cancer have one that I know of. Lets face it, mental illness can be terminal just like those nasty illnesses. When are we getting our pink lights on Aussie icons and pretty flowers sold to raise awareness and funds? I know we keep talking about it but mental illness can be just as devastating on families and communities as any of the terminal illnesses. When will our country stop being scared of it and face it head on? I know it is better now than a few years ago. When I was diagnosed there was very little support outside of the therapists office. We have to keep pushing it out there and shine the spotlight on our skills rather than our deficits. I have met some amazing, really unwell people. We truly have a gift. No one quite sees the world like we do.

What do you think?