Here Comes The Sun

I welcome the dreams I have of feeling the warmth of sunlight on my cheek. Like a sweet kiss, like a tender caress, like the embrace of a loved one. I had one of those the other night. I felt awake and in the sun, in the light. I was tentative but completely joyous when in my dream everything came true.

The rain has passed and roses are now in bloom. The lilacs are still giving off their scent.

Look. The sun is shining.

Perseverance

Quite fitting, the damp scent of Eucalyptus, Lilac, rain and Gorecki's 3rd Symphony. That's how I feel. Beautiful. Delicate. Fragile.

Oh how I feel fragile.

I'm not too certain of the future, only of my dreams. I'm waiting for the storm to come batter my petals and leave me weak to fall to the ground.

But for now the hush of a gentle drizzle.

Ashtray Heart

I've been meaning to write for a long time. It has been sincerely hard. Now I am compelled to.

Yes, I gave birth to a baby boy, M. He's my world... when I am not stressed or depressed. That sounds horrid. Owen was with me for the birth. I'll write about the birth at some other point in the future.

After the birth, I guess my hormones were racing. I needed Grumpy. I wanted Grumpy. I partially grieved for the past. Even recently I bared my heart and soul to him. I can't be friends with someone who doesn't love me. Unrequited 'love'. But he talked me around.

The latest debacle in this whole sorry saga is the last straw in my 'friendship' with Grumpy. A mutual real life friend decided I had spouted lies and posted logs to one of my internet friends, which is complete bulls***. I'm not that juvenile. I even offered for him to come over and read my message history and logs. But no, he declined. Where does Grumpy fit into this? Well for starters he didn't stand up for me. He washes his hands of it and leaves me alone in the s*** that I have unwittingly been dragged into. He proceeded to text me and phone me and not say one nice thing, not even a hint of sympathy. Pretty much Grumpy is leaving alone in this. Won't defend me. Won't be a friend. And even agreed with the mutual 'friend' that it was probably me.

So that's it. He can't be a friend then he is gone. I'm debating whether or not to send him his birthday present which I got early for once. It's a waste of $80 really, to just go and give it to charity. I know, that sounds selfish. But $80 is a lot for me, who is now on welfare.

On the bright side, I had someone, who I do call a friend, be such a lovely voice of reason as I had a panic attack. The mutual friend that started all this baloney knows where I live and that is still playing on my fears.

But the voice of reason? I'm bowled over once again... and I feel like how I felt initially when Chris came around last year to deliver smokes and sit on the doorstep with me... so now I am wary. I don't want to be dealt the same way Chris treated me. I don't want to be disappointed like Owen disappointed me... I don't want to go to the dark places Grumpy took me... and I don't want to get my heart broken and soul ripped out, what Tad the wonder d*ck did to me.

I guess I just have to be myself... if people don't like that... their loss, not mine.

PS: After 4 years I finally deleted Grumpy's messages off my phone... that in itself says a lot.

Mind's Sedate

Sometimes my mind flashes back to moments in time when I've had such a tranquil state of mind, when I sit down to write. Currently my mind is sitting on the porch looking down through the greenery, through the bees and dragonflies, through gardenias and geraniums, palms and ferns, toward the small eucalypt undergrowth and spying the calves licking each other in the shade. Lorikeets and peewees, finches and magpies warbling a distant tune.

I can picture the flowers smiling in their baskets framing the view, swaying in the slight breeze. I have a cup of tea sitting on an old stump lugged up here, with an astray, packet of cigarettes and a lighter. I'm resting before my duties. Cleaning the chookyard, shovelling cow manure into bags, mowing the lawn, carting water and hay, all before coming back again to admire the view with a well-earned beer in my hand. That is where my mind is and where I long to be. Just for a few days if only.

The Cross

What is this force that helps me stumble along? More I think of it, when I start to think of what happened. It's like the cross that was heavy and Jesus still bore and carried it to Gol'gotha. Is this force Jesus carrying me? My pain, my torment, my fear? Perhaps though he can't be seen, he can be felt.

All I've learned, my scraps of religious education, feels like it's reaching toward epiphany. Realisation. When I feel like I have grasped it, doubt floods in.

Don't Sit Under That Apple Tree

I am me. I am. I am.
I'm the girl who falls for the wrong person.
Someone damaged in some way or another.
An Apple that has already been bitten
by the birds or the hungry little worm
or two.
Perhaps I am that hungry little worm.
Perhaps I am the bee that pollinates
the Apple blossom.

Alle

*Means alone in German. Or if not, well obviously my German needs improving.

This pregnancy just gets better and better in terms of my mental health.

I gave up anti-depressants earlier on in the pregnancy, which probably wasn't the best thing by me as depression reared it's ugly head again and I started to contemplate suicide again. I guess the only thing that keeps me hanging on is the fact that I am Catholic and couldn't bear two mortal sins (ie killing myself and my child) than the one. I still go to therapy every week and due to a complete and utter misunderstanding on my psychiatrists part (all I asked was if my second appointment in the month could be bulk billed, seeing I could only barely be able to afford him once a month, he also misconstrued what I was saying and recommended I see someone else...what on Earth? All I wanted was a yes or a no!) I now see another psychiatrist whom I've only just started seeing. And back on the meds. If the benefits outweigh the risks, it should be fine on my child. It's not healthy for a child to have a completely depressed mother who still has thoughts of topping herself.

And one disappointment from Owen to another. And now this. My sister and brother in law completely taking my opinions over a certain politician here way too seriously and continually labelling me a racist. I mean what the hell. Anyone who actually knows me knows that that isn't like me at all. Hell, two of my good friends are from Pakistan, I have lots of friends from different countries here and even another of my good friends was a refugee from Vietnam that went from refugee camp to refugee camp at such a young age. They said if I was joking why was I getting defensive and in hindsight I should have told them that being labelled an idiot, a racist and being told it's proof I was adopted makes me defensive. Way to work up a pregnant person. I wonder how many years it's going to be this time and if they're going to expect me to apologise. They never apologise for this and no doubt will feel that they've been wronged. Whom am I going to ask to be the Godparents of my child now?! And no doubt their version would be enough to turn my newly found relationship with my dad and grandparents to dust. Even though Dad hasn't talked to me since I told him about my pregnancy. And didn't even send a message to wish me a happy birthday. And my brother is completely unhappy about my pregnancy and I say so in censored terms. His explosive tirade at me was enough to convince me that he hates me as much and as deeply as he hates my mother.

And then there's the elusive Mother of mine. Excuses excuses on why she cannot call or send a message. And whenever we do talk she spends most of that phone call chatting about things I really don't give a rat's behind about when I need information about hereditary problems and you know, whatever mums and their pregnant daughters are supposed to be talking about. And then with me hardly getting anything in, she has the audicity to say "I have to go now." And hangs up.

What the hell is wrong with my family? What have I done to deserve this? (Despite the bleeding obvious of having pre-marital sex and having a child out of wedlock) Am I suppose to "grow up" or something? I thought I was handling my pregnancy and my life with utmost maturity. If they only knew just want hell my mind has gone through and is still going through. But no, they're just the kind of people to say I only want attention. Which is bullshit because I hate drawing attention from my family because it ALWAYS causes problems. Like the time I saw a psychologist when I was 14? And she had the great idea of bringing my mother AND my sister into a session with me, and my sister went completely off her brain at me and thought I was doing it all for attention and my depression was just bullshit. You know what happened after that session? After the hellride home I tried my best to lock myself in my room and for the very first time in my young life I started cutting. It actually felt an awful lot better than I felt.

So with my meagre family and friends....well really, I am alone. I don't think I've got anyone that's going to sit there with me and take me to the hospital when I give birth. Although Owen says he'll be there but I just know he's going to disappoint me again. I don't have faith in anyone anymore when they say they will be there and they will be supportive blah blah.

And as for my child? I'm not sure if I'm going to be much support either. I don't have faith in myself on sticking out this existance much longer after the birth. I'm barely coping as it is.

Say Hello To Barry Colours For Me

The title I would like to say came to be in a dream not a few hours ago. I have no idea what it means but in my dream I was on blogspot reading my blog and had an entry titled that for some reason. There you have it.

I've been sort of battling a writer's block if you will these past few months. It's been rather hard.

My news? Baby is doing quite well, I'll find out the gender hopefully this Wednesday coming. Owen and I just recently broke up for reasons I guess I can't vent out on this spot in cyberspace but I do hope for a future for both of us, I really do. It has been a lonely pregnancy thus far and I suppose not having him by my side (officially) doesn't make much of a difference if he wasn't there to begin with. I don't know. I hurt a bit. But it was my own doing so I shouldn't bitch about it so much.

I'm not sure what else to write. All I know is I had to write Say Hello To Barry Colours For Me. Trippy.

All I Need

First and foremost, best wishes to all for 2009!

I'm due in 7 months. In perspective that isn't a very long time to go. So much to do in preparation. No energy to do it with. Still signing up for study in my laboratory course which I can do still when the baby is born. Have to move into a new place, buy furniture, buy a fridge and a washing machine, maternity clothes, baby clothes, nappies, bottles, kilos of washing powder, a pram, a cot/bassinette and surely more things I haven't thought of yet. All on a happy single mum pension.

Owen will support as much as he can but I really do feel like I am on my own with this one. I mean. My family aren't too excited as I thought they would be, they said they will help where they can but that gesture has done bugger all to mask their disappointment. Friends? What friends? Apart from friends on the internet? Real life? Nobody really except for my housemates and Grumpy's family.

A young single mum how does that work? How on earth did that happen? Here I go from severe depression, to sheer happiness and clarity, to a job I've to do every day for the rest of my life. Sure I'm happy about that and happy to do it. But is it really the best for my kid? They deserve better. All I have is my love but judging by today's society love is a skint way to bring up your kid.

And no longer will I be afraid for me, I will be afraid for my child. How do you mothers deal with that fear?

(Please share your tips for dealing with All Day-All Night Sickness too...it's becoming unbearable!)