Blah!

I guess I should explain my absence yesterday from my "DAILY" blog. Well the mood state swung from -3 to -4. Yep, despite my best efforts and intake of Omega 3 fish I still fell in a heap. Why? No rationale reasons. But I can list the irrational ones (not as justification, more to illustrate suceptability to strange thought patterns).

1. Got angry that news broadcasts were covering the whole Easter Egg thing. Still cannot reconcile the whole Spring rebirth Christian symbolism in the Southern Hemisphere. As if to balance the commercialism there was token coverage of the Christian church gatherings (no Orthodox pics even thought the Easters co-incide this year).

2. Angry that these little kids and their parents have no idea of either the Christian connotations of resurrection (or are marginally better than the idiots who give their kids the Chocolates on Good Friday). Angry that such a secular nation embraces these festivities when really it is another excuse to overindulge in rampant commercialism.

3. Guilty that I have been trying to hand make gifts for a friend and her daughters but have been too down to do it (and ran out of money for the remaining wool I need... would you believe under $10!) Angry again. Angry at being so badly organised financially.

4. Frightened that it will only get worse from now on as I give up work and end of scholarship. This is very much about me... I am angry I cannot and will not be able to afford the very best care I need. Petrol to get to Beleura outpatients, perol to get to Yoga classes, no access to Art therapy at hospital. (Covered as therapy under NSW Private Health Schemes but not VIC). No money to go to and use Fernwood Mornington. I need those external motivators I cannot overcome my own inability to move when on a downer yet if I have to keep an appointment with someone else I can dredge up a phenomenal amount of willpower to get there).

5. Bitter and twisted that all the blonde yuppies can affird regular trips for massage at Peninsula Hot Springs, and girlie style beauty treatments at Ella Bache, Rye. I want to be feminine finally but I do not have hubby's cash or my own wages/playmoney to splurge. Even the retired European mammas manage the private bathing once a week whilst hubby is playing Bocce. I am shitty that I am still battlin after all these years on my own.

6. Guilty when one rined sent me a Happy Easter txt. She would be missing her mother. Her first without her (no Passover tradition to continue for family reasons). Guilty that I am so into my own head space. Sent her upbeat text then realised another close friend was also in a worse position than I am. Her Mum is overseas on what unfortunatley might be her last trip 'home' given her age), and my friend is caring for her ageing father who is not the strong man of old but a frail man needing care and reassurance whilst his beloved wfe is away. How dare I sit back and feel sorry/angry over my own perceived injustices that were brought about by my own life choices.

7. Back to angry again. This time with self. Sent second friend a supportive txt and pressed wrong button and erased all 450 characters. Rang her and took a while to attempt to get her to put down her guard (Ms I Can Handle Anything.... you do not have to do it alone!).

8. Worried that both my oldest friends are having trouble finding themselves away from their life/family career roles. They are more than wives, mothers and employees.

9. Regretful that we were unable to ( or society told us to shut up)share the load with each other for over 20 years when we all needed each other most. What a waste of time pretending we were all coping OK. Crap!

10. Now angry with males in general, how they sap the energy from wives and mothers. Angry at adult daughters who aren't there emotionall for their mothers when they need support. It still all about them, usually under the 'wonderful caring' miss you/love you/need you emotional energy sappers. No way are these young women puttin back into the mothers emotional well! Angry with Gen Y!

11. That lead to me angry with my own son. At least he doesn't pretend to give a stuff about Christmas or Easter. But I am angry he doesn't put in a token effort to create a semblance of family at these lonely times. After all I did... how many years of early rising Easter Egg positioning and wobbly skewed hot cross buns (let's not even talk about reindeer chewed carrots, Santa cookies etc). His excuse... I am really more into the Wiccan and Pagan festivities... well yeah but what does that say?

12. How stupid that I had to explain that it is all part of my needing to reclaim what were essentially female celebrations of fertility and connection with nature/Gaia whatevr name you choose. Humans need some form of ritual and I seem to desire a spiritual connection the older I become. I even attempted this year to recoonect with the emotional ups provided by my old school and the Anglican rituals associated with them. Whilst I challenge the masculist discourse of the formal Church (let's not forget Henry 8 set up CoE just so he could divorce Catherine!), I need at some basic level a connection to some form of supreme being (maybe even genderless). I guess the Jesus figure is so acceptable to many non-believers because he can be constructed as the first ever SNAG!

13. Next followed anger with Louis (my son's father... Catholic who darkens the door of the Catholic Good Friday Mass for five bloody minutes and does ot even sit or take Communion).. I guess there are far too many "Hail Mary's" to deal with to even up the spiritual slate. Hypocrisy if you ask me. He can't even be bothered to do the "cultural thing"... What I expected was more than roast chicken Sunday dinner... no panetone (because Safeway was closed). He paniced when he got up and saw that I had Buona Pasqua card for him, another humourous yet secular card for Carlo, and had even ensured that Carlo had a bloody card for his Father! He high-tails it to the local shops only to find one card left on the shelf that he thought he could get away with. That's right... my Easter Card reads Happy Easter Mum and Dad... not even pretending to be from Carlo.

14. Insult to injury. He can't find any Easter Eggs apart from (what actually turned out to be delicious)... painted eggshells, which I thought were works of handcrafted art. No they were/are actually painted eggshells with chocolate ganache inside. Pity to have to smash the shells to get to the chocolate. Once I discovered this I asked him how much they bloody well cost.... $7 each. I am guilty now that I smashed one to investigate it's heaviness. Angry also that they really are not totally hand-painted but mass produced somehow and Louis made me feel like a selfish judgemental shit again.

15. Angry/guilty that the ganache has probably used palm oil... as had the Cadbury eggs given out by the CFA on their Children's Hospital collection and the whole Cadbury/Chanel & schtick..... see circular thoughts and emotions.

16. Boss sent me a Happy Easter text message but I felt distressed that I couldn't reply. All this head space stuff was just too exhausting. Ended up in bed asleep the whole afternoon. I had gone there to escape the call of the computer... and to read Sunday paper but fell asleep. This crap in my head really is exhausting. Unless you live those andrealine fuelled angry moments then the crying downs of guilt... you cannot possible understand.

ON PAPER IT LOOKS HILARIOUS... and perhaps today I can begin to see it that way and kick back up the minus scale. At present the sun has disappeared and the grey skies are descending, the 3MBS music has become a tad 'down' amd I do not feel like liturgocal on ABC Classic FM. Too paralysed to actually select a CD to play instead.

Well that's probably all I can dredge up today. Roll on the zero poin on the scale and HURRY THE BLOODY HELL UP!