It's Mia

This is going to sound pathetic. But who cares, what do I care what you think of me? These last few months I have been on a high. I have my own home now, my own space. Enjoying being a mother. And being so social it's driving me mad! I never used to be that popular. So I have a party. I informed my friends weeks/months ago about it, with reminders. People said they were coming, they didn't show up. I have so much food in my fridge and freezer now... here lies my dilemma.

I've had a few flat/depressed days in the last few weeks, nothing serious. I'm going to see.. I don't know what I am supposed to name him here, seeing one of my past mistakes shares his name and I'd not like to confuse him here. I don't know. Well... I am going to see a gentleman this coming week that I've grown close to these last few months... but suddenly drifted apart. He's not there when I need him. I guess I'm too needy I suppose. I don't want to talk about this but why am I writing about it??

I haven't thrown up (on purpose) in God knows how long. I am feeling awful right now. No. Not suicidal. But fed up. Let down. By everyone. My family, my son's father, my friends and my potential mate. I've let myself down for being to trusting and too "happy" for so long. I can hear that angry voice I kept quiet for so long now shouting again "Told you so! Told you so!" I don't deserve happiness. The closest thing to happiness I have is a fridge full of food, my fingers and my toilet bowl.

Shh. I'm returning to Mia. Fuck the world.

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.