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blog: i miss kissing

I miss kissing. To be fair, I was never a huge fan of snogging for hours on end. But it’s been years since I’ve had someone to kiss who also wanted to kiss me.

I miss kisses hello and goodbye, daily kisses with lips that press passionately against mine. I miss the feeling of gently pulling someone’s tongue, warm and wet, into my mouth. I miss that feeling of deep connection when two fully clothed bodies press against each other, exploring the nudity of teeth and soft faces and the heated crevasses of necks instead.

In so many ways, I’ve been made to feel lacking, less than, not good enough. I’m no longer waiting for my prince to show up. I no longer feel adequate or worthy enough to even throw my hat into anyone’s ring. The trauma I’ve endured this year has finally broken me. But… I still yearn for intimacy, even while believing that I don’t deserve it.

I guess this line of thinking started because I was thinking it will be New Years Eve soon, and while I do have plans to attend a party, I assume this will be yet another NYE without a kiss at midnight. Silly, I know. But if I could get a holiday wish this year, it would be for someone to kiss as the clock takes us from one year to the next, to share that moment of time-outside-of-time, to feel human again for a split second so that maybe I can carry some of that magic with me into the new year.

Yes, I’m superstitious… just shut up and kiss me! 💋🥂

blog: Figure.09

– TW: Depression, Su*cidal Ideation

I’ve got some music videos playing on YouTube and Linkin Park’s “In the End” came on. Maybe I’m just over emotional today, but staring at Chester’s face on screen I started to tear up and think omg, if only he knew what an impact he had on so many people and what a legacy he has left behind, would he still make the choice that he made?

But then I think, he had to have known, at least on some superficial level. But it wasn’t enough, and we need to get that the choice to stay or go is always a personal one. Too many times people think “if only I’d done more or made them feel more loved and needed, if only I’d shown them how special they were and what they meant to the world”. But we can’t put that on ourselves. No amount of love is going to save someone and stop them from going if they truly want to.

And Chester wasn’t some kid, he was 41. That’s old enough to know your own mind. He’d been through enough shit to make an informed decision. Of course, oh my God, of course I wish he hadn’t. I’m crying just now thinking about it. I guess I’m just saying, we can’t lay the burden of life on the shoulders of those who don’t want it. All we can do is love and cherish our loved ones for the time we have with them. And if they go gentle into that good night, we can carry their memory forward so their light in this world doesn’t dim.

That’s for benefit of those left behind, but I think the souls on the other side would appreciate it too. 🖤

blog: doing a runner on God

Imagine you’re young, dumb, and dating someone way too good for you.  They’re smart and beautiful, courageous, generous, kind, loyal, and honest. They’d go to the ends of the earth for you. They believe in you and your potential. And all they ask is for you to trust them, and be the same.

But you – you’re selfish and self-destructive. You’re riddled with demons and vices and addictions.  You’ve already made mistakes. You know you’re not good enough for them, and it makes you feel resentful and dissatisfied even when things are good. You start to nitpick. You start to act out. You cheat on them. And at every turn you’re met with forgiveness and second chances.

Finally, your guilt causes you to part ways. You thought it was for good. Your future relationships range from toxic and abusive to nice and almost (but not quite) perfect. There’s always something missing. You eventually straighten yourself out and get most of your ducks in a row. Time passes. You keep up with your ex through mutual friends – you find out they’re doing great, and you’re happy for them. Life goes on.

Then you have a chance meeting, and it’s clear there’s still something there. After all this time, they’re still the amazing person they always were, if not more so.  You begin to think, you might be good enough this time. You become friends again. You know they’re holding the door open, waiting for you. And you think, maybe you really can rewind the clock, get back some of those lost years, become the person they always wanted you to be. You start to get acquainted with hope.

Then you look in the mirror and you see all your scars, the imperfections and flaws your life choices have brought on. You realise you can never change the past, or undo your mistakes. You have been forgiven, but deep inside you’ll never be able to forgive yourself or quiet your demons.

You’re in the bathroom at the restaurant you took them to. They’re waiting for you at the table.  It’s decision time – what do you do? Do you walk away? How can you move forward, when forward means taking yourself right down to your foundations, and starting from square one?

It’s tempting to just put up with the life you built for yourself, it’s not perfect, but it’s safe and familiar and it’s solid. But how does one – how CAN one – do a runner on God?

blog: no heart = no hurt

My entire life has been a series of me drawing boundaries with people, and having them go, “Yeah, nah I’m good thanks,” before walking away. It’s been a long history of showing people who I am and making myself vulnerable to them and then being sidelined or rejected.  I’ve had people tell me how great and wonderful and amazing I am, but there’s never been anyone who has fought to keep me in their lives, unless it was for their own selfish reasons. 

I am not a fucking Nutrimetics party. You don’t get to come to the presentation, play with all the products and talk about how great and wonderful they are and how yes, you can certainly see the benefits; then when the time comes to put your money where your mouth is, you make some excuse about why you can’t afford it right now, or you buy the cheapest thing in the catalogue to be polite. 

I get it.  Some people aren’t into what I have to offer. They can appreciate the value but it’s not for them.  That’s fine.  But when every single person I’ve ever tried to have a real connection with – including the person who willingly married me – says “thanks, but no thanks”… It gets a bit much. 

But I keep doing the right thing. I keep doing the gracious thing.  I keep thanking people for their time and their consideration, like it’s a fucking job interview.  I keep breaking off pieces of my heart, like it’s a demonstration product.  “Here, have a sample of me, have a sample of what my love could be like…” until finally I will have no heart left.

That, my friends, will be a wonderful day. No heart = no hurt. And when you’ve been hurt as much as me, when you’ve sustained so many emotional scars that there’s no room for one more, achieving a state of numbness feels like entering Valhalla. 

blog: the last

There’s always a last time for everything we do. The last time you ate at that restaurant, the last time you took part in a hobby, the last time you spoke to so-and-so.

Sometimes we know our “lasts”.  Our last day at work. The last day of a holiday. The last time we will see a dying relative this side of the veil. 

But often it’s only much later when you’re reflecting that you realize you never did go back to that Greek restaurant before it closed, or see that friend before they moved away.  You stopped going to a particular club because you wanted a change of scene, then the scene changed while you weren’t looking and you got lost along the way. 

Of course we can’t live our moments as if they are our last. We can’t force ourselves to live at a manic FOMO pace. But sometimes I argue with someone special and I think, “What if those are my last words to them?” Or I share an intimate night with someone and wonder if that will be the last time we would be so close. 

Some regrets are for the things we do. Others are for the things we didn’t.  Nothing seems to sting more than the regret of a squandered opportunity.  There’s no ‘undo’ button for life. There’s no way to save and re-load an earlier checkpoint.

Trying to recreate a past happiness never works, even if you come close, it will still be its own thing. So the only solution is to come to terms with loss and learn to deal with endings that don’t come with closure.

There is a way to move forward though. Learn to live in the moment, be mindful and appreciative of what you have. Live with gratitude as a constant companion. Take nothing for granted. And say ‘I love you’ as often as you can.

blog: finding happy

There is a world of difference between “Being with you makes me happy” and “You make me happy”. One is a state of mind, the other is a state of heart. And always, always will I choose the second option.

Because to be happy in a relationship is to be comfortable inside a position, a place, a state of being… it is the familiarity of the circumstances that make you content. Circumstances that can be replicated in another time and another place, with another human. Familiarity that sometimes lulls you in with its repetitious charms and masks the ‘not-quite-right’.

But to be with someone who makes you genuinely, deliriously happy just by being who they are… Someone whose strength of love and character carries you despite all the noise life may toss your way… Someone so trustworthy that you throw caution to the wind and launch into the unknown without any fear or second-guessing… there is no substitute for that.

To find a comfortable place to rest is at best refreshing for a time. To find the one person who gives you such enormous wings you need the whole world just to unfurl them –

That, simply put, is ecstasy for the soul.

blog: dazed but not confused

I am Gen X, and while I’m sure many things could and have been written about my generation, this is my story.

My generation was one of “damn the man”; of being angry at our baby boomer parents for screwing up the world with their wars, their capitalism and their environmental rape. We took up the hippie mantle and turned it into grunge activism, we bought t-shirts from The Body Shop to raise funds for tigers, we banned CFCs because they put holes in our ozone. We protested our disenfranchisement by embracing alternative lifestyles, alternative music, leftist politics and fringe religion (anyone remember The Craft?).

We were also a generation who experienced huge feelings of ethical powerlessness, it felt like we were the only ones with our eyes open, seeing changes that needed to be be made and not having a loud enough voice to convince those in power to do something about it (except for the Berlin Wall… that shit fell down on our watch, proud to say) Which led to another Gen X phenomenon – burnout turning into apathy, leading to our generational motto – “Life’s short and then you die, f#@k the world, let’s go get high.”

We embraced technology, but were distrustful of moving too fast, seeing it as an extension of the previous generation’s obsession with “bigger better faster more.” (Personally, I’m still keeping an eye out for the birth of Skynet.)

The world now belongs to the Gen Y / millennials and even the Gen Z. In a few short years, the work force will burgeon with kids who weren’t even born yet while I partied with a bottle of Baileys and my tits out on New Years 1999 (I never claimed to be a saint!).

These are people who were birthed into a world of apps and gadgets; the tech my generation developed and used is now either obsolete (RIP DOS) or running in the background, being taken for granted. My friends’ toddlers either own an ipad or at least know how to use one, and I can’t even figure out how Snapchat works.

The passing of time is a funny thing. Most of the musical influences of my formative years have long since disbanded, their cds placed in bargain bins. Kids listen to the music I listened to back in the day and call it “vintage” or “classic”. Movies that defined and impacted me haven’t seen air time in years. Tom Hanks looks really old.

Whenever I realise events that I think happened only yesterday actually happened 15 years ago, I stop to wonder if the things I do today are going to stick with me 15 years from now. When I struggle to accept new technology, or embrace things that are uncomfortable for me but have become the norm for my society, I feel old and out of touch. And I wonder if that’s the same way my mother felt when I protested the Bobby socks rock’n’roll she played on the radio for being “lame”. Did she see me roll my eyes at her old movies, or was she reliving the time she saw it in the cinema as if it were only yesterday?

I feel isolated and marginalised more and more. Most of my Gen X friends have moved on to other stages of their lives; spouses, kids, mortgages, careers. They’re not living with their heads in the past and wishing for the good old days. Meanwhile, I’m over here mourning the loss of my youth. And this nostalgia suits my melancholic nature, but it also holds me back and makes me sad and ineffective in so many ways. I’m tired of trying to play catch up. I’m tired of trying to recreate my best experiences. It’s both emotionally exhausting and unattainable.

I need to learn to let go of what was and what could have been, and focus on what the present has to offer. I want to engage in life more, and stay open to growth and new experiences. Time moves on, and that’s not always a bad thing. Some things stay the same, but a lot of stuff changes. We just have to try to pass our experiences and our knowledge on as best we can, and not be too quick to close off any chapters in our own story.

Write a sequel! The universe is always expanding to include new and shiny things!

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blog: viewing paradise

I think about how much imagination and energy i had as a child, how much passion and fire I had as a teen, how much ambition and drive I had when I was in my early 20’s. And I wonder where it all went.

The world used to be this great place for me, like Willie Wonka’s factory; a fantabulous everlasting gobstopper of a place, a 3-course meal in a single piece of chewing gum, a rich river of flowing chocolate. The world for me used to be the kind of place where schnozzberries really do exist. I used to want to do everything and anything I could and I wanted to do it all at once. I used to write poetry, sing, act, read, party, sew, paint, cook great food and throw fabulous soirees. I was witty, I was funny, I had an incredibly full social life.

I wish I knew how to get all of that back. Sure I could go on medication for my depression, and probably should. A little discipline in my life wouldn’t go astray either; I could benefit from a stricter diet and exercise regime – feeling good about how I look is the first step to feeling good about myself, I get that. And it wouldn’t kill me to make a few phone calls, touch base with a few friends, buy a diary and start filling up my spare time with stuff. I could join a few groups, pick up a new hobby, message a few guys on a dating site… There’s lots I can do to improve my life.

But is it going to be enough to fix my apathy? What is the cure for waking up every morning and feeling like you’ve heard and seen and done it all a thousand times before? How do you get back the rainbows in life, when it all just seems like a pile of ash? I don’t want to think that my best years have gone by – I’m not nearly that old! I’ve got plenty of time to hit the reset button and get back out there into the game. And I’m trying, but I’m not sure that my “fake it till you make it” approach is going to work here.

I really hate to be on this much of a downer. I hope there are people out there who read this who get how I feel… But at the same time I wouldn’t wish this feeling on anyone. I guess it’s just that I was barreling full steam ahead on what I thought was the right course of action, when suddenly I hit an unexpected iceberg and now I’ve been derailed. People who have been emotionally shipwrecked know that sometimes its harder to fight, that drowning seems like an easier option at times.

And I don’t think there’s any secret trick to getting over it. I think you just have to accept that life is going to be pretty shitty for a while, and make up your mind to keep slugging it out no matter what. There’s no miracle cure. There’s only good days and bad days; and initially there’s probably going to be a helluva lot of bad days compared to the good ones, but in time they balance out and eventually you reach a point where the situation is reversed.

So do whatcha gotta do to bring back the good days – buy a goose that lays golden eggs, get some lickable wallpaper that comes in schnozzberry flavor, or dress up like an Oompa Loompa and sing funny songs. I dunno… Whatever you do, just keep slogging it out. You gotta have faith in the good days; sometimes that faith is all you have to hold on to. But if you do find any miracle cure, let me know!

“If you want to view paradise
Simply look around and view it
Anything you want to, do it
Wanna change the world?
There’s nothing to it”

From “Pure Imagination”, Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

blog: cognitive dissonance – closing the distance

‘Cognitive Dissonance’ – something the Universe gave me to ponder this week. It’s what happens when your statements and beliefs about yourself – who you want to be, what you want to do, and who you expect others to be – don’t match reality.

Like, I want to spend more time on my commute to and from work doing meaningful stuff instead of just sleeping – researching things online, or posting here, or reading news articles, shopping for things, doing a crossword puzzle, etc. I want to go out more, I want to follow my friends on facebook more closely, and text them more regularly. I want to set and maintain a budget. I want to get back on track with my diet, and start making progress on my ‘to-do’ list. But honestly, my life is a mess right now, and I don’t get around to achieving a lot of my goals.

When what we want vs. what actually happens = two very different things, that’s cognitive dissonance. And we feel guilty, hurt, or upset because there’s this massive gap in what we wanted life to be like and what life actually is. The theory is that humans strive for internal consistency, and work to reduce any dissonance or gap between fantasy and reality. We adjust our thinking, try to justify things, make excuses, or flat out ignoring that it’s happening. We create mental stress, because of our belief that things have to be consistent.

So what then… do I just accept that my life is chaos? That I’m never going to get even a 10th of my bucket list crossed off? That I’m always going to be rushing from one thing to the next and missing bits along the way? Or do I bolt everything down and live a life of routine and rigid rules for interaction with others, and try and control my environment as much as I can?

I don’t want my life to be summed up as a bundle of cognitive dissonance. I used to think that if you want to do something, you don’t make excuses, you just make it happen – but the implication  – that if I didn’t make it happen, I didn’t want it bad enough – weighs too heavy on the soul.

I want consistency,  but is consistency really this great prize to reach for if it comes at the risk of mental health and wellbeing?

I guess it’s about finding balance – making adjustments in habit, challenging some of my thinking on what I think “has to be”. And then re-examining my priorities, determining what the “small stuff” is in this big picture, letting go of that concept of “should have” and “must” and living life in a more fluid way.

I think that’s the lesson the Universe is trying to teach me today!

blog: just smile and say thank you

I was talking to a friend yesterday about how a lot of people have to learn how to take a compliment graciously. For example, someone says “That’s a lovely dress!” Me a few years ago: “Oh, this old thing? I got it at Kmart on the clearance rack!” Me today: “Why, thank you!” But it took me a while!!

It’s really not hard, but I guess a lot of us struggle because compliments force us to admit we secretly think we look cute too, or did well in a challenge, or cooked a really great meal, etc. A lot of us grow up being told not to “put tickets on ourselves” (for non-Australians that’s “think too highly of yourself”!).

And we have “tall poppy syndrome” here in Australia, where anyone who tries to stand out above the crowd becomes a target for being taken down a peg or two. Which makes today’s rhetoric of “love yourself” and the body positive movement, etc. so hard to embrace for some people.

But if we were to embrace our own awesomeness, it wouldn’t be hard to say “Thank you” when we are paid a compliment. Instead of deflecting the compliment we are paid, I’m sure some people give false compliments just to be ‘nice’ or to be manipulative but I’d wager that most compliments are genuine and people who give them just want to contribute to making your day a little brighter. By deflecting their compliment, you are devaluing their opinion and their contribution to your life.

So practice just saying “Thank you” when people say nice things about you! It’s hard at first but it’s not impossible, and when you do there are smiles all round.

Oh, and by the way – you look nice today!

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blog: create your own interpretation

Three things are true:

1. Everyone has a story
2. Your story is important
3. YOU ARE NOT YOUR STORY

We tell ourselves stories all the time. We give meanings to things, it’s kinda what humans do. We hear what people say, we see what they do or don’t do, and we add our own meaning on top. It’s natural to apply personal experience to things, to want to deepen our understanding of them. But too often we stop there, we take our assumptions as gospel.

Assumptions make asses out of umptions, which is bad enough. But when we internalise ‘meanings’ as truths, when we allow these perceptions to become part of our “story”, we cross into dangerous terrain.

Interpreting stuff that happens in a way that is negative and harmful to our self-identity and self-esteem can damage and alter our view of who we are so effectively and insidiously it can take years to come to the surface. And yet these damaging hidden ‘truths’ we embrace about who we are have a very real affect on our actions and choices along the way.

“I’m worthless.”
“I’m ugly.”
“I’m fat.”
“I’m trouble.”
“I’m no good at anything.”
“I tore my family apart.”
“People will always let me down.”
“I have to look out for myself.”
“I can’t trust anyone.”
“I can’t be trusted.”
“I’m a bad person.”
“I’ll only hurt others and let them down.”
“I deserve to be hurt.”
“Nobody gets me.”
“I have no one.”

Seriously, who wants to go through life with a story like that?

Things happen. How you interpret them is going to become part of your story, that’s inevitable. But you are in charge of what you make it mean. Don’t stop at assumption. Don’t short-change yourself. Look at your identity, the stories you tell yourself about who you are, where do they come from?

Our identity is often comprised of a series of coping mechanisms and defences we created to deal with the challenges in life and our limited understanding of them. You don’t need to lock yourself into an identity that was created to address life situations you may no longer inhabit.

Take any of the above statements and picture a friend saying them – how would you react? Would you tell them they were being ridiculous? Would you rush to reassure them that those things are simply not true? Would you help them find ways of turning their thinking around?

Good. Now go look in a mirror, and do the same thing.

“I’m worth everything.”
“I’m beautiful.”
“I’m happy in my skin.”
“I’m someone worth knowing.”
“I’m good at anything I put my mind to.”
“I value and respect my family relationships.”
“People want to be there for me.”
“I can learn to let people in.”
“I have faith in people.”
“I am trustworthy and reliable.”
“I am a good person.”
“I am committed to having positive relationships with others.”
“I deserve to reach my potential.”
“I have many unique qualities to offer people.”
“I have a strong and supportive network.”

Life’s too short to build your identity based on negativity and pain. Embrace change, embrace love, embrace a more authentic and connected life

blog: eulogy for Jim

Today I laid a rose on a casket that belonged to the father of a good friend. I hadn’t had much contact with him in quite a while, but he played a significant part during some of the best years of my life.

Jim was the kind of man who kept an open door policy. He didn’t judge people. He was quick to give you his opinion, and you could rely on him to be honest about how much of a dickhead you were being, but he always let people make their own choices. And he was always there to lend a hand whenever it was needed, from offering a place to crash for the night to picking up a ute-load of stuff.

I practically lived at his house the summer of 1999-2000, during a crazy time in my life when I was making the weird and wild choices only the young can make. There were many nights of pizza and gaming, watching movies and shooting the breeze. And after more interesting pursuits like trying to turn an aerosol can into a rocket and hooning around the streets singing “what’s the colour of a 2 cent piece?” at every cop we saw, we always somehow ended up back at Jim’s. I doubt my parents could count the amount of times they heard, “Yeah I’m still at Jim’s… I’ll be home tomorrow – probably.”

Sure, there were times when Jim had had enough. He’d look at me and say, “Haven’t you gone home yet?!” And I knew it was time to disappear back home for a few days. But Jim always welcomed life and people into his house, was always quick to tell a joke and make you laugh, keen to show off the latest game he was playing or berate us on our lack of musical taste. The house where Jim and his sons lived seemed to attract a happy group of strays who just needed a place to be themselves. And as I said, for me the few years I spent hanging out there were some of the best and happiest times in my life.

I know Jim is proud of the legacy he left behind in his kids, and the turnout at the funeral today is a testament to how many other lives he has touched. Rest in peace Jim, and stir up a few angels for me!